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    Summary

    “I love you, I love you, I love you,” Achilles gasped, his hands finding his own hair when he found nothing to hold onto, pulling on his long, golden curls in something in between frustration and ecstasy. From the trembling breaths filling his throat in a familiar way, Patroclus could tell he was crying. “I’m in love with you, Patroclus, I’m so in love with you, I- I- You have no idea–”

    Patroclus wanted to reach upwards, to hold him and press him to his chest, to kiss his hair, his forehead, his mouth, his cheeks, his temples. He wanted to push him down on his back, bury his face into his sweet-smelling neck, whisper those same words against his pulse, to tell him.

    Yet his jaw felt like it was screwed shut, his body paralyzed.

    Patroclus has fucked up, he somehow fixes it.

    Series
    Language:
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    Words:
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    Chapters:
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