Chapter Text
“But Achilles, you’re the best soldier the Greek army has. You need to fight!” Patroclus pleaded.
It was the dead of night in the Greek camp, meaning absolutely no one was getting any sleep.
Since Achilles had withdrawn from the war when someone (not going to point fingers, but *cough cough* Agamemnon *cough cough*) had offended him, the Greeks had been failing at battle miserably. Even with their other fiercest warrior, Diomedes, the smartest strategist, Odysseus, and their best healers, Patroclus and Polites, the Greeks were having more and more casualties, and lesser men were returning from raids.
Their last resort was to try to persuade Achilles to fight again. Ajax, Nestor, and even Odysseus had all tried, and they had all failed. Patroclus, Achilles’ boyfriend—sorry, best friend (though the whole camp knew they were a little bit more than friends) was their last hope. If Patroclus couldn’t persuade Achilles, no one could persuade Achilles. And then they were all cooked.
”No,” Achilles answered, stubborn as ever. “That good-for-nothing, wannabe general has insulted my honor for the last time.”
”If you’re talking about Agamemnon—“
”Of course I’m talking about Agamemnon, you idiot!” Achilles all but screamed. He sighed, rubbing his temples. “Look, I already told you, I’m not fighting. Why can’t you all just leave me alone?”
Patroclus was quiet. Then, as he turned to leave, he said “This war is bigger than you and your pride. Maybe you should think of that while good and loyal men go out and die.
Before Achilles could speak, Patroclus stepped out of the tent and into the cold night air.
Menelaus was the first to speak. “So, I’m guessing it didn’t go well?” The crestfallen expression on Patroclus’ face answered his question.
Ajax slumped in his seat. “Gods fucking damn it! Now what do we do? We don’t have Achilles, and we don’t have hope!”
“This could have all been avoided if someone hadn’t insulted Achilles’ honor,” Diomedes said pointedly to Agamemnon.
”Look, I already apologized for stealing Briseis from him!” Agamemnon argued. “But you all took Chriseis from me, and she was my war prize.”
”What did you want us to do?” Ajax exclaimed. “The god Apollo himself came down from the heavens to curse us if we didn’t give her back to her father! You didn’t have to steal Briseis, either.”
”Oh please, everyone knows that Patroclus is Achilles’ boy toy,” Agamemnon scoffed. “He didn’t need that village girl.”
”Um, I’m still here, you know,” Patroclus said. “I can hear you.
”Whatever.” The Myceneaean general folded his arms. “The point is, the blond bitch is being whiny annd unreasonable.”
Patroclus shot to attention. “You take that back, motherfucker!”
Agamemnon stood up. “What did you just call me, you lowly slut?” The camp broke out in an argument, taking sides and defending Achilles.
”QUIET!!!” Odysseus shouted. Everyone immediately went silent. Odysseus was the most cunning man in all of Greece. What Odysseus lacked in strength and stature, he made up for in his wits. In fact, there had been a rumor going around that Palamedes, a man the camo had recently killed for treason, had been Odysseus’ rival, and the Ithaca’s king had orchestrated his whole death. It was highly unlikely, but still, no one wanted to cross Odysseus’ path.
The short man sat back down in his chair. “Now is not the time to blame each other. That won’t help us win this war. What will help us, however, is getting Achilles back in the team.” Odysseus shut his eyes and folded his arms, in deep thought. When he was thinking of speaking, people listened.
He opened his eyes. “Patroclus, how good of ‘friends’ are you and Achilles?”
Patroclus thought. “I don’t know. We’re just . . . great friends.”
”Yes, I know, but . . . how does he act around you? Does he, like, blush or fidget?”
”Why do you ask?” Patroclus asked warily.
Diomedes looked at Odysseus, and then his expression changed into shock. “No!”
”Yes,” Odysseus said, nodding grimly.
”But—but you can’t!”
”It’s the only way!”
”No it’s not!” Diomedes rushed over to Patroclus, taking his face in his hands. “Look at this sweet, innocent face! It’s the face of a virgin! You can’t take it away from him!”
”It’s for a greater good! We’ve got no choice.”
”Wait, what the fuck is happening?” Ajax asked.
”Odysseus is going to make Patroclus fuck Achilles!”
Nestor, who had been sipping on a goblet of wine through the whole conversation, spit out a mouthful of it onto Agamemnon in front of him, drenching the king.
”But! He’s not going to!” Diomedes interjected. He turned to Patroclus. “Well, he won’t if he doesn’t give consent, at least.”
”I’m not a virgin, actually,” Patroclus admitted. “I’ve slept with Achilles before.”
The camp was silent. “Tea!” Ajax shouted into the quiet.
”Oh. Well, if Patroclus gives consent, it’s fine,” Diomedes said, settling back down in his chair.
”Alright. It’s settled, then,” said Odysseus. “What are you waiting for?” He motioned towards Achilles’ tent. “Get in there.”
______________________
I was curled up in my bed, staring at the wall of the tent.
I felt horrible for shouting at Patroclus, for dismissing him so easily. So, I did what I always did whenever I felt like a piece of shit.
I curled up in the sheets into a burrito, blocking out the outside world.
I could hear faint, muffled speaking outside of my tent. They’re probably talking about me, I thought. What they’re going to do with me. Send me back to Chiron, or my father’s kingdom.
I heard my tent flap opening. Probably Odysseus or Nestor coming in to chew me out. “I’m sorry, okay?” I said, throwing a pillow in the direction of the entrance. “I’m not in the mood for a lecture.”
”I’ll try to keep it short,” a sly, welcome voice said as I felt a weight at the foot of my bed. I turned in my cocoon of silk and saw Patroclus, smiling.
”I thought you were one of the kings,” I said, sitting up. “I . . . I’m sorry about a while ago, I shouldn’t have shouted at you.”
Patroclus shrugged, tracing shapes on the sheets. “It’s fine.”
”No, it’s not fine.” I let the blanket fall to my shoulders. “You’re right, this war, it’s bigger than me. It’s bigger than us. We need to win this, and I’ve been a selfish little brat through it all.”
Patroclus scooched a bit closer. “It’s not your fault that Agamemnon’s ego is bigger than his dick.” I laughed despite myself.
”You don’t understand, Patroclus! We could have already won this war! Helen and everyone else would be safe at home already, we would be safe at home already, but I’ve just been so selfish and—“
Patroclus cupped my face in his hands and pressed our lips together. The sudden intimate contact startled me, sending shivers down my spine. One second I was moping in self-pity, the next, I was kissing my best friend.
But I had to admit, I had always felt like Patroclus was a little more than a best friend to me.
The kiss was light, soft, and sweet, just like the man kissing me. It could’ve been just an accidental brush. But the way Patroclus held on to my face like he was scared I’d disappear, the way his lips lightly pressed on mine, it was clear that this was intentional. This was something Patroclus wanted, something we both wanted.
We parted, gasping for air. My blue eyes met Patroclus’ brown ones. “Why?” I asked, breathless.
”You talk too much,” Patroclus replied, running a hand through my long blond hair.
This time it was me who leaned forward, closing the distance between us. The second kiss was deeper, more intimate than the last. Patroclus’ hand slipped into the blanket wrapped around me, under the folds of my chiton. I gasped softly, allowing Patroclus to quickly slip his tongue into my mouth in a sloppy kiss.
The intimacy had reached its peak. I knew I was supposed to be enjoying and savoring it, but some small, prideful part of me couldn’t stand the thought of being topped and outdone by my best ‘friend’.
Two can play at this game, I thought, as I placed my hands under Patroclus’ thighs and positioned him on my lap, still connected by our lips.
We parted again, Patroclus’ lips trailing down my jaw as I traced and ran my hands over my ‘friend’s’ thighs.
”So,” I breathed, “does this mean that we’re a little bit more than friends?”
”I guess,” Patroclus purred, kissing the tip of my nose. “I don’t know.”
I laughed breathily at that, thrusting myself deeper in between Patroclus’ thighs and slipping my hands beneath the cloth of the older man’s chiton. His hips grinned against mine, making me arch my back and let out a small moan of pleasure.
”You like that?” Patroclus said teasingly, grinning.
”Y-yeah,” I stuttered, letting out another sound of delight. Patroclus laughed, still moving. I put a hand on my lover’s chest, signaling for him to stop. He cocked his head to the side questioningly.
I kept my head down as my hands slid up his arm, stopping at the pin fastening his clothing. I looked up, my eyes glimmering with mischief. Patroclus smirked, understanding, moving his own hand to my chiton fastener, the blanket covering me long gone. In one fluid moment, the two of us ripped off each other’s clothes, the silky fabric blending in with the sheets.
“Eager, are we?” Patroclus said, smirking. I rolled my eyes, cupping my hand around the back of his neck, pulling him in for another kiss. But before our lips could meet, I flipped to the other side and pinned Patroclus to the bed by his wrists.
Patroclus laughed, taking in the sight of me above him. “You know, if you wanted to get me underneath you, you could’ve just asked.”
”Where’s the fun in that?” I purred, leaning down and pressing my lips against his.
Patroclus bit down slightly on my bottom lip while I grinned my bare hips against his in a motion that was all friction and no penetration. Patroclus moaned against my mouth, placing his hands on my back and pulling me closer, our flushed bodies pressed against each other. I was forced to stop my movement, breaking away from the kiss and instead moving my lips down Patroclus’ jaw, his warm neck, his sweat-soaked chest, his abdomen, and stopping at the base of his thighs. I parted my mouth from his warm, tanned flesh, hovering slightly above it. I looked up at Patroclus, my eyes flashing the question I needed to ask.
He nodded, his face flushed. I grinned, sitting up. This was going to be a long night.
I traced the muscles of his thighs, caressing the soft flesh. Then I bent down, kissing the places I touched and biting gently, leaving marks that said all the words I couldn’t before for fear of anyone hearing. Patroclus moaned as I swiped my tongue over his skin, lapping up the white liquid that had started to trickle down his thighs. He tasted clean and sweet, the opposite of what we were doing. My hands found his hips, holding him for support, as my mouth explored further (Dora the Explorer ahh Achilles). Patroclus’ hands found mine at his waist, clutching them tightly. I surfaced from his lower part, releasing my grip on his hips. I crawled up his body, resting on his chest, and leaning down to kiss him, deep and slow. Patroclus drank me in, his body pressing upwards into mine. We parted for air, gasping. He looked content, happy, and as was I. But I wasn’t done with him yet. I was going to break him with all of my love and desire. My mother Thetis, though I loved her, could not glimpse us in these foreign shores, and even if she could I didn’t care. I loved this man, and I intended to show it. I’d scream it at the top of my lungs for all the world to hear, if I could.
I kissed the tip of his nose, mirroring his gesture a few minutes ago. He blushed, and I said “I love you, Patroclus.”
He smiled shyly. “I—I love you too, Achilles. I always have, and I always will.”
“What do you mean by that?”
”I’ve loved you ever since I met you that day in Phthia when we were young.” Patroclus turned on his side, making me topple over him. He pulled me close to his chest with a strong arm. His fingers absentmindedly traced shapes on my arm, just as he had with the sheets a while ago. “You . . . you are the light of my life. Every time I look at you, I feel like I'm reading the scroll of my own life, and you’re my favorite part." I looked up at him, my arm reaching up to tuck a stray lock of his hair behind his ear.
”My . . . my whole life, I’ve been told that I have this ‘great future’ planned by the Moirai,” I said, “that I’m the greatest warrior of Greece since Heracles, that I’ll win this war for all of us. And it’s a lot, to have everyone’s hopes pinned on you. And then there’s my mother, who says I’ll die if I try to win this war. But I don’t even know what I want to do. I’ve been grown into this . . . this ruthless warrior, with no say in who I am.” I leaned into him, basking in his warm presence. “But you make me forget about all that.” I took a deep breath. “If I had to choose between you or the world, you or the Greeks, you or Olympus, Patroclus, I’d burn it all down.”
There was a moment silence, a beautiful, calm, loving silence where it was us, and only us. “So, does this mean we’re a little bit more than friends?”
I rolled my eyes, laughing, and playfully hit his bare chest. “Well, best friends don’t usually want to give each other blow jobs, so . . .”
Patroclus smirked. “So you want to suck me, huh?”
“Maybe,” I said, drawing out the vowel at the end.
He sat up, moving to the edge of the bed. He looked over his shoulder. “Come on, then. Prove we’re more than just friends.”
I beamed, eagerly climbing out of bed and kneeling before him. His wish was my command. My legs were tangled in one of the blankets. I draped it over me, covering my head and most of Patroclus’ legs in case anyone decided to barge in the tent uninvited. Of course, what we were doing would still be obvious, but at least it would be less . . . exposed, for lack of a better word.
I could practically feel him smirking from above the blanket. “Shy, my love?”
I scoffed. “Well, if you’d like to do this outside, by all means, open up the tent.” Patroclus laughed. I set to work. In the dim light under the silk cloth, I was faced with his sexy thighs that I had just marked and claimed as mine. But they weren’t what I was here for. I wanted what was between them.
I put my hands on his knees then started to spread his legs apart, slowly, deliberately, revealing his already-hard, flared cock. The tip of it was wet with the white substance I had lapped up a while ago. I traced the inside of his thighs again, my touch less than a caress.
”Patroclus?” I called out to him.
”Yeah?” He replied, his voice ragged. Good. That meant I was doing my job right.
”The next time you see your parents, tell them that I said thank-you for their genes.” That earned a breathy laugh from him. I trailed my fingers inward, stopping at the crook of his legs, then going back out, slowly stroking his dick.
A moan rattled Patroclus’ body, making me smile. It delighted me to know that he was falling apart because of me, that he was melting into a beautiful mess at my touch.
I adopted a rhythmic pace, going faster with each round. The thrill of the moment made my heart pound. After a few minutes of this, Patroclus’ thighs were shaking. I took his length in my hands, feeling it throb beneath my skin. I licked the wet slit gently, experimentally. Another sound of delight came from Patroclus above me.
I swiped my tongue around his rod, not fully taking it into my mouth yet. I savored the taste of his leaking erection, drinking him in like a goblet of wine. The moans from the man above me slowly faltered to small, needy whines. My hair brushed his thighs. Finally, I decided to take pity on him, and took his pulsing cock in my mouth.
Patroclus’ back arched, and he let out a ragged, breathy moan. “Fuck, yes, Achilles!” He exclaimed, his hands gripping the edge of the bed tightly. “Yes.”
I said nothing, only humming around his dick, the vibration making Patroclus’ legs twitch again. I loved how this man, this beautiful angel of a man, was unraveling in my hands. I swirled my tongue around, experimenting further. I sucked on him gently, tongue still in motion, while loud, shameless sounds of delight came from Patroclus.
”You know,” Patroclus’ strained voice said, “we can give Briseis back to her village.” The silk sheet fell off of my head, revealing my lover above me, face flushed. He carded a hand through my hair. “Who needs a sex slave when I have you?”
I broke off from his length, my mouth a garbled mess of his cum. “Oh, so I’m just a sex slave for you?” I said, smirking. Patroclus rolled his eyes. “No, I’m just saying that I’d have never captured Briseis for you if I knew that you were so good at this and willing to do it with me.”
I stood up, the blanket pooling at my feet, until I was the one looking down at Patroclus. He leaned into me, burying his face in my stomach. I ran my hands all over him. “Oh, darling, ever since the first time, I’ve always been willing to do it with you.” Patroclus looked up at me. “So we’re returning Briseis?”
I shrugged, sitting down on his lap. “Anything for you, my love.” I moved for his lips, as if to kiss him, but then pulled away at the last second. “But . . . there’s something I want you to do first.”
Patroclus smirked. “Okay.”
I untangled myself from him, crawling over to the other side of the bed, the side next to the fabric of the tent. I laid out, presenting myself for him. “It’s your turn to pleasure me. Go on. Show me that you love me.” Almost immediately after I said those words, he climbed over to me. He grabbed me by the waist and flipped me over to lie on my stomach. I glanced over my shoulder, surprised.
“What are you—“ I started, but he put a finger to my lips.
“Im going to show you that I love you,” he said, positioning himself over my hole. I blushed, looking back in front of me. “In other words, I’m going to ride you until I break you.” I nodded, clutching the headboard of my bed for support. My heart was beating right out of my chest. A moment of silence. Then, he lowered himself down into me, taking me up to his hilt.
A loud, satisfied moan came from my throat. “Gods, Achilles, could you keep it down?” Patroclus said teasingly. “At this rate, all of Olympus will hear us.”
”I-I don’t fucking care,” I said, holding the headboard for dear life. “They can talk. I don’t care as long as you’re mine.”
Silence. Then he started to move, bringing himself up, nearly out of me, then sinking back down in a rhythmic motion that drove me crazy. He adopted a faster pace. I was growing closer to cumming; I could feel it.
“Harder,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “Now.” He obliged, going harder and faster above me. I whimpered. I guess I was a bottom after all. “Harder!” I nearly screamed. Gods fucking dammit. This man would be my undoing, but my own self would be my downfall. “Harder!” His pace increased, and I felt myself painting the sheets with the white substance that came out of me. My vision went hazy. I faintly heard the sound of wood snapping. That must be the headboard.
Finally, just when I was starting to get overstimulated, he stopped. My body deflated, sinking into the bed as Patroclus sat beside me.
“Content?” He asked, brushing my hair with his fingers. I sighed. “Yes. Thank you.” Patroclus reclined down beside me, holding me in his arms.
“Anything for you, my love.” And for a moment, there we were. Two souls, basking in each other’s presence, hearts beating only for each other.
”So,” Patroclus said tentatively, breaking the silence. “Can I . . . ask you something?” I got up, propping myself up with my elbow. “Lay it on me,” I said.
”Could you fight in the war again?”
It was the world had flipped over, leaving me floating upside-down where the ground used to be. My heart dropped. Of course. This wasn’t real. How could it be? I was foolish to think otherwise.
”They put you up to this,” I realized. “The others put you up to this, didn’t they?”
Patroclus sat up. “Achilles—“ he started, but I cut him off.
”They told you to . . . seduce me and get me to fight in the war again, didn’t they!?” I shrieked, sitting up. I laughed maniacally, running a hand through my blond curls. “I should’ve known. I really should’ve. I mean, what kind of beautiful angel like you would fall for a little blond, idiotic bitch like me?” Tears were running down my face as Patroclus hurriedly pulled on a chiton. I noticed it was actually mine, but I didn’t care about that right now.
Everything that had happened, every endearing word Patroclus had said to me, was a lie. Nothing, no wound, no injury, no sword cut could even begin to describe the hurt and pain I was feeling.
As Patroclus basically sprinted out of my tent, I called out,
”Wait!”
He turned around.
”If-if anything that you said a while ago was true, if you meant any of the words you said, then come back here and say them again,” I said.
He hesitated, then turned and left the tent.
I was alone, silk sheets clutched in my hand.
Stupid, stupid, stupid. This wasn’t real.
This wasn’t real. None of it was.
His love for me wasn’t real.
And knowing that, knowing that Patroclus would use me like that, I’d gladly accept the death of all these Greeks.