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The first few weeks they're together, Patroclus feels he barely gets to see his boyfriend.
Patroclus had, regrettably, told Achilles he couldn't formally tutor him anymore within a few days of their relationship. If the school found out he and Achilles were using paid time to make out on Achilles' bed, Patroclus would more than likely lose that job. He liked that job. It had proved to be beneficial in more than one way: it had given him money and Achilles, two things he couldn't live without.
But that meant less time they could spend with each other. Achilles would still eat lunch with Patroclus and sit with him in the library, but Patroclus no longer had the energy to do much after his last tutoring session for the day or a shift at his fast food job, and Achilles was beginning to practice more for upcoming meets. Everything felt relatively the same as before, save for the addition of 'I love you' into their conversations and a lot more kissing and touching when they did get the chance to see each other.
When Patroclus gets Achilles' text asking if he can come over, he genuinely has to look to see if there's space in his schedule for an unannounced boyfriend visit. Patroclus looks over the date long and hard before texting Achilles back. He's finished with his last student for the day, and he'd managed to complete his homework that afternoon in between classes. It was getting late, but Patroclus was off for the weekend for once and could spare losing a bit of sleep.
Was this what being grown up was like? Arranging appointments for loved ones to come over? Patroclus would almost rather go back to being a kid when the only things he worried about were the newest toys and scraping his knees on the pavement.
Sure, head on over, he replies.
Almost immediately, there's a knock on his door.
Patroclus is baffled, but he can't say he's entirely shocked. He doesn't even bother checking the peephole. When he opens the door, Achilles throws himself into his arms.
"Wow, okay, hello," Patroclus says, catching him before he could fall onto his face. He holds his boyfriend tight. He'd never get tired of embracing him, feeling the warmth and the softness of Achilles' body against his. It was intoxicating, and Patroclus would shyly admit he'd spent more than one night staying up wishing Achilles was beside him.
Achilles buries his face in Patroclus' shoulder. "Hi," he mumbles back. He inhales deeply as if taking in Patroclus' scent, and the man blushes in response.
Patroclus sways side to side with Achilles in his arms. Since they'd gotten together, Achilles had insisted they always be touching each other somehow: holding hands, knees pressed together, a head on Patroclus' shoulder. Patroclus had no idea he had signed up to date a literal koala.
"Everything okay?" he asks. Not like it was unusual for Achilles to be so clingy, but he'd never rushed over to his apartment like this before.
Achilles nods. "Perfect now, thanks." He pulls away from Patroclus' shoulder and holds his face in place instead to kiss him. Patroclus hums happily in response, hands falling to Achilles' hips. "Couldn't stay away from you," he rumbles against Patroclus' lips. It sends a shiver down his spine.
"Have you been waiting outside?" Patroclus asks softly. He brings a thumb up to trace the line of Achilles' lower lip. His boyfriend's mouth parts slightly, welcoming the touch.
"For five minutes," he admits. His breath puffs gently against the pad of Patroclus' finger. "I remembered you didn't have anything planned tonight, but I also didn't want to just barge in. I was going to try the whole, you know, making you wait for me to come, but I got a bit impatient."
Patroclus smiles fondly. His heart swells at the thought of Achilles knowing his schedule. It was a small detail, but one that was intimate and so very appreciated. Cuter still was the image of Achilles pacing at the bottom of the stairs leading to his apartment, trying to decide when would be the appropriate time to come running up to his door. "What? Want to study stats that bad?"
Achilles grins. "Oh, yeah, for sure." He tilts his head to kiss Patroclus once more, gripping the back of his neck firmly. It's possessive in the slightest way, and it makes Patroclus' gut feel warm with delight.
He manages to guide Achilles away from the front door while their lips are still locked. Patroclus kicks it shut behind him and fumbles to lock it once more. Not once does he part from Achilles, one hand still on his hip. Once the door is shut, Achilles presses Patroclus up against it and fits their bodies together.
"Oh," Patroclus breathes. His head falls to one side, and Achilles is on his neck in an instant. He kisses and bites, much too excited and fast paced for Patroclus. His head is still reeling from the first kiss, his brain a constant static as it desperately tries to keep up. "Are we doing this tonight?"
Achilles pauses, lips against Patroclus' skin. "If you'd like." They hadn't had sex yet. Actually, Patroclus hadn't even seen Achilles naked. There hadn't been time, and when there had been, Patroclus felt too stiff and awkward to initiate anything. Patroclus was too self conscious, too overly aware of the soft bits of skin hanging over the waistband of his jeans or fretting about not being able to pleasure Achilles the way he deserved. He knew Achilles must have been frustrated, what with all the heated kisses ending with half-baked excuses, but his boyfriend had never rushed him.
Patroclus inhales sharply as Achilles sucks on his collarbone. Today does feel right. He'd been yearning for Achilles for so long, and his resolve was quickly crumbling. "Ah, I- yeah that sounds good." He feels Achilles lips curve into a smile. "Can we just- can we move? Couch? Bedroom?"
A hand slips into his, calloused and strong. "I don't think I've ever heard you sound so intelligent," Achilles teases, pressing his nose to Patroclus' cheek with a crooked grin. His fingers fit in the grooves between Patroclus'. Achilles holds onto him so tight his hand aches, and Patroclus knows he's not going to be able to go anywhere tonight. Lucky for him, there was nowhere he’d rather be.
Achilles’ back is to the hallway leading to Patroclus’ room, so Patroclus has to nudge him in the right direction- a simple task, usually, but Achilles keeps pulling Patroclus back to his lips. Patroclus is lucky he lived alone, because Achilles’ hip bumping into the furniture followed by stifled giggles and Patroclus’ choked moans would be enough to make any roommate want to move out.
Patroclus pushes Achilles against his closed bedroom door. His boyfriend grips the front of his shirt in one fist. "You need to move to the side," Patroclus manages, fumbling for the doorknob pressed against Achilles' back.
"We could always just fuck right here," Achilles says. The lack of humility makes Patroclus wheeze. Even after living on his own for so long, he still worries someone can hear Achilles.
"Our first time is not going to be against a wall." Patroclus pulls Achilles away from the door by his wrist and against his side so he can twist the handle open.
Once it's open, Achilles smiles wide at Patroclus, and Patroclus can't help but grin back. It's like they're both rowdy teenagers and not actual adults with responsibilities. There's the same excitement Patroclus had felt his first time he'd slept with someone, amplified by his adoration for Achilles. Patroclus hasn't felt so carefree since his first semester at college. It's like a fog has lifted and his shoulders can finally untense.
His boyfriend pushes him against the edge of his bed. The back of Patroclus' knees hit the mattress and buckle, and he falls backwards with a laugh. "You're cute when you smile like that," Achilles murmurs. His green eyes shine with love. "I want to be the only one who can make you like this."
Patroclus flops onto his back, one hand tangled in his own hair. "You are," he says breathlessly. "Only you." Achilles was the other half of his heart, the one person Patroclus had ever felt he really connected with this way. No one could possibly compare.
Achilles straightens his back at that. Way to stoke his ego, Patroclus thinks to himself. He reaches out one hand for Achilles to join him, and his boyfriend takes it.
"I must admit something," Achilles begins. He settles onto Patroclus' lap and leans over him. His hair frames Patroclus' head like a curtain of golden curls.
He's waiting for Patroclus to respond. Achilles looks… almost nervous? "What would that be?" Patroclus prompts. He brings Achilles' hand to his lips and presses a kiss to his knuckles. It seems to soothe his boyfriend enough to continue.
"I…" Achilles looks away. His cheeks grow red before he manages to say, "When I imagined this before, you were always the one taking the lead."
Oh.
Patroclus feels like the wind has been knocked out of him. "Oh, alright," he whispers. This was not at all like the suave and cool Achilles he'd dreamt in his mind. His Achilles was shy, unable to meet Patroclus' gaze and very obviously at a loss for words. It was much better because it meant Achilles was just as human as Patroclus and not held on some pedestal. "I didn't know you'd thought about this so often." It's a genuine comment, but Achilles sputters in shock at it.
"I mean, just a normal amount!" he protests. "And-And not before we were together, of course! I respected you and everything, so I…" He trails off.
He's never seen Achilles so flustered, so at a loss for words. Usually it was Patroclus who would be stunned into silence by Achilles' romantic gestures, or too shy to say much more than a small 'sure' when his boyfriend asked to hold his hand or put an arm around his shoulders in public.
"And it's only if you want to, though!" Achilles blurts frantically. "I, um, I can manage, if not-"
He quiets when Patroclus strokes a hand gently through his hair. "Have you ever done this before?" he asks.
Achilles hesitates. It makes Patroclus ache terribly. Surely he knew that Patroclus would never even think of judging him? He didn't care about Achilles' past or what decisions he'd made in high school. The Achilles he knew now was genuine and true and nothing could ever change that.
"Not with a guy," Achilles admits quietly.
That was all okay. Patroclus had sort of figured, what with his home life. "With a girl?" Patroclus asks.
Achilles flushes a darker shade of red. "No," he barely breathes.
Patroclus wants to hold Achilles and never let him go. "Oh, my beloved-" He pulls his boyfriend down into a tight embrace. Achilles makes a small noise in surprise. "You don't need to be embarrassed."
"Not embarrassed," Achilles mumbles against Patroclus' shoulder. His face and total change in demeanor say otherwise, but Patroclus knew better than to tease him.
"Okay, you're not embarrassed. That's good." Patroclus presses a kiss to Achilles' forehead. He's still tense, as if expecting some sort of reprimand from Patroclus. "I'll take care of you. You know that, don't you?"
Achilles' eyes flutter shut. He sighs gently as Patroclus rubs his back reassuringly. There's the smallest nod in affirmation, and Patroclus' heart swells with happiness. They've only been together a short while, but their friendship before had been more than enough for Patroclus to see how genuine Achilles is. There was no faking the bright smiles he'd flash Patroclus' way or the pure joy he had for life. He'd do anything to protect his golden boy, to make him feel safe.
"You're squeezing the life out of me," Achilles protests.
"Sorry." As soon as Patroclus loosens his arms around Achilles, there's a pair of lips on his own. He can't help but smile. Achilles kisses like he did everything in life: so eagerly, practically bubbling over with excitement. Patroclus wasn't sure how he was supposed to ever keep up.
Achilles untucks Patroclus' shirt from his jeans and pulls at it, pausing for a moment. "Is this alright?" he asks. His expression is so full of concern, the need to please Patroclus and make sure he's okay.
"Yeah." Patroclus nods. "I'll tell you if something isn't, don't worry." Achilles brightens immediately. He runs his hands up Patroclus' bare abdomen. Patroclus jolts in discomfort at the contact, back arching off the bed.
"Not good?"
"Your hands are freezing!"
"Oh, sorry." Achilles blows a puff of air into his palms and rubs them together before going back to touching Patroclus. It's as he's feeling along his ribs, grazing his fingers lightly across his abs that Patroclus realizes Achilles hadn't even seen him with his shirt off. He'd seen Achilles shirtless at a few of his meets, and Patroclus had to look away every time his mind wandered too far as he watched his muscles ripple.
Patroclus rests one hand on Achilles thigh and exhales slowly as his boyfriend touches him. There's nothing heated about it. Achilles' hands only want to explore the slope of Patroclus' body, map the curves and planes of the man he loves. It makes Patroclus feel… worshipped. How strange, when he'd always felt that Achilles was the one meant to be praised and adored.
"Can I take this off?" Achilles asks. He tugs at Patroclus' shirt, already bunched up at his armpits.
"Of course." Patroclus raises his arms, and Achilles pulls his shirt over his head and throws it to the side. He dips down to suck at Patroclus' collarbone. It feels like a brand burning into his skin, Achilles' mouth hot against him as he sucks and bites. Patroclus shudders.
He slips his hands under Achilles' sweatshirt and maps the muscles in his shoulders. They're well defined from use, Patroclus thinks to himself. Achilles was one of the star javelin throwers after all. He'd broken records within the first few months of school and made quite a name for himself. The seniors, normally reluctant to mingle with first years, took Achilles on immediately as a close friend. It had been part of the reason Patroclus wondered why Achilles had noticed him in the first place. He was ordinary and not at all involved in this world of his.
Achilles presses his lips to Patroclus' nipple. Patroclus jerks at the sudden change of pace. He fists one hand in Achilles' hair tightly.
It's uncomfortable at first, Achilles' lack of experience showing through. "Less teeth," Patroclus says hoarsely. He wants to push his boyfriend's head away, but Patroclus doesn't wish to discourage Achilles either. He'd get better eventually. He was good at everything, after all. "More sucking." Achilles obeys, and the pain ebbs into waves of pleasure. Patroclus shifts as his dick twitches with interest under Achilles' body. "Mm… that's good, yeah."
Green eyes glance up and bore into Patroclus' gaze. He looks so intense, so determined to make Patroclus feel good. It's almost scary. Achilles pops off his chest with a lewd noise and licks a long stripe across Patroclus' breast.
"Tell me what you want," Achilles demands. Right, they still had to get used to each other physically. Patroclus reaches his hand out and cups the back of Achilles' head. He guides him to his other nipple, forgotten and pert with the cold air. Achilles latches on and hums happily, as if this was what he was made to do. His hair falls across Patroclus' chest, and Patroclus has to pull it behind Achilles' shoulders for him.
Achilles is perfect, Patroclus decides. He'd made the decision long before they started dating, but every moment he spent with Achilles only strengthened that belief. Was it even a belief when it was truth? There was little Achilles could ever do to deter him, nothing he could say that would make Patroclus love him any less. Because Achilles was a kind person and there was no room in his heart for causing Patroclus grief. His clumsiness when navigating their relationship was sweet, his blunt honesty embarrassing but appreciated, and the inexperience only meant this time with Patroclus would be that much more special to him.
He'd like to have Achilles with him forever, if he'd allow it. They'd been brought together by some twist of fate, Patroclus was sure of it.
"Ah, Achilles…" Patroclus tips his head back. It feels good now that Achilles has gotten the hang of it. His thumb has come up to toy with Patroclus' other nipple, flicking and pressing in ways that Patroclus hadn't known could affect him so.
Achilles brings his hand between Patroclus' thighs and cups his growing erection, and Patroclus keens.
This part Patroclus did get right. Achilles is too excited for his own good, squeezing a little harshly and rubbing too quickly. Patroclus cries out and wriggles his hips for some sort of relief from the stimulation, but Achilles' hand only chases after him.
"Thought… you wanted me to lead," he hisses between his teeth, gripping the bed sheets tightly in his fist.
Achilles comes off of his nipple. His lower lip is puffy and shines with spit. "I'm playing it by ear," he says.
"Well, I want to see you."
"You're looking at me right now." Achilles frowns in confusion. Patroclus huffs in exasperation.
"All of you." He pushes Achilles' sweatshirt up. His boyfriend seems to get the message, and Achilles quickly discards his own shirt with Patroclus'. He's beautiful sitting astride Patroclus' lap: curly hair cascading down his shoulders, eyes dancing with glee, his lips pulled into a small smile. Patroclus puts his hand over Achilles' heart, and Achilles covers it with his own.
His heartbeat is strong under his palm. As reassuring and true as the rest of Achilles. "It beats only for you," Achilles says. He looks so genuine, so unaware of how it affects Patroclus, green eyes full of affection. Patroclus' other hand flies up to cover his face and he groans. He feels as if his chest was about to explode with how full of love it was for this boy. Each compliment was another stab in his heart that he'd never be able to recover from.
"You're a sap."
"You like it. Just admit it."
"No, you're killing me. You're a murderer."
Achilles only snickers.
"Get off of me, stupid," Patroclus grunts, pushing Achilles onto the bed. His boyfriend giggles some more, covering his mouth as his body shakes with laughter. Patroclus has to steel himself so he doesn't laugh as well, although the corners of his lips twitch up in a smile.
Achilles has grown hard without even being touched himself. It's sweet, Patroclus realizes, that he could get off by pleasuring his boyfriend. There had to be a reward in store for him for being so wonderful.
Patroclus rolls them over so he's on top of Achilles. His boyfriend smiles slyly at the change of positions, eyes half-lidded in arousal. Golden hair spills across the pillows, and Achilles' has his hands beside his head as if he's expecting Patroclus to pin him down by the wrists and take him right then.
"You're a little gremlin."
"Just for you."
Patroclus shakes his head and reaches to open his bedside drawer. "If I had half a mind, I'd be meaner with you just to wipe that smirk off your face." He rummages around the mess inside until his fingers graze a familiar bottle. Patroclus tosses the lube onto the bed.
"You missed me," Achilles says. His eyes are alight with mischief. Patroclus softens at the familiar green gaze. He could never truly be rough with him, none of his taunts would ever be more than a silly light-hearted jab or a push on the shoulder.
"I did," he admits. Patroclus had felt like part of himself was lost these past few days. Not seeing Achilles as often crushed him. Chaste kisses before running to class and ankles brushing under the table at lunch were not nearly enough to satisfy his needs. Patroclus craved Achilles like he did sunlight or food.
Achilles touches Patroclus' wrist gently. "You have me now," he murmurs. His fingers graze Patroclus' hand and curl around his palm gingerly. "You always have my full attention, my heart. You know that."
No, no more pet names or Patroclus would surely combust. "Y-You should make your major creative writing," he manages. "Or English. You're good enough with your words."
"Ah," Achilles smiles, "but then I'd have to share them with someone besides you." He always knew how to get the last word in. Maybe he should get into pre-law, instead. It was impossible for Achilles to back down from any challenge.
He's straining against the front of his jeans. Achilles lifts his hips obediently when Patroclus undos the zipper and tugs the fabric down. It shuts Achilles up. His teeth worry at his bottom lip as Patroclus discards of his pants, cheeks red with what's to come.
"Everything okay?" Patroclus checks in.
"No," Achilles complains with a pout, "you're too slow."
Patroclus snorts in amusement. Of course his Achilles would be in a rush to feel as good as possible. But Patroclus knew better than to move too quickly. He wanted to savor their first time together, to make Achilles' first time with anyone be as wonderful as possible. His golden boy deserved more than a quickie. He needed to feel the overwhelming love Patroclus had hidden away in his heart, to be worshipped and praised like Patroclus knew he was born to be.
He finally, finally pulls Achilles' boxers down just past his thighs. His erection springs up almost comically, the head red and angry from being ignored. Achilles eagerly reaches down to touch himself, but Patroclus smacks his hand away.
"Sit still." He uncaps the lube and spreads a fair amount onto his palm. Achilles watches as if it's the most important thing he's ever witnessed, gaze locked onto the liquid Patroclus rubs heat into on his hand.
Patroclus cups Achilles' face with his unsullied hand, his thumb brushing his cheek tenderly as he grips his dick in his other hand. Achilles' mouth falls open in a silent moan. His hips buck into Patroclus' grip, and he makes a high-pitched whine that Patroclus had never imagined could come from his lips. His poor beloved had been so neglected, deprived of the pleasure he deserved to have bestowed onto him by someone else. Patroclus vows in his heart to take care of Achilles with everything he has.
Achilles lays his hand on top of the one on his cheek and tangles their fingers together. He turns his head into Patroclus' palm as he starts to stroke him, face scrunched up with building pleasure.
He's perfect in every single way, and Patroclus would have Achilles no matter what. It's different not seeing him in sweatshirts and jeans, or the occasional pajama pants that made their appearance when he'd slept through his alarms. Seeing Achilles so naked and spread out for Patroclus struck a chord deep in his heart. His imagination had done a terrible job filling in the gaps before when all Patroclus could go off of was the student he had a huge crush on.
Achilles squirms more than he'd thought he would, his back arched off the mattress and his toes curled with pleasure. He's louder too, one hand over his mouth to stifle the soft gasps and moans that threaten to spill from his lips. Patroclus was a fool for ever thinking the Achilles he'd dreamt of was enough. The real thing was so much better.
Patroclus twists his hand and Achilles chokes out a strangled sob, writhing in his grip. If he could get this worked up from a handjob, Patroclus couldn't fathom how Achilles would be when he penetrated him. Tears pool in the corners of his lover's eyes and threaten to fall down his face. Patroclus wipes them away with his thumb.
"Talk to me," he breathes, lips only inches from Achilles' parted mouth. His boyfriend pants roughly against his face. "Let me hear you."
"Pat, I-" He grimaces as Patroclus rubs his thumb against his slit, gathering pre-cum along the pad of his finger. "I can't…"
Patroclus moves his hand from Achilles' face and pushes his boyfriend's hair back and out of his eyes. He looks miserable: forehead glistening with sweat and eyes shiny and wet. "Can I try something?" Patroclus asks. He pauses striking Achilles and plays with his balls instead, tugging and rolling them in his palm. Achilles grunts and twists at the sensation.
He huffs and covers his forehead with one arm. Achilles could be impatient all he wanted. Now Patroclus knew just how easily he could unravel. "Try what?"
"Have you ever…" Patroclus trails off. He feels awkward saying it. He'd never been good with words, especially not in the bedroom. It was much too embarrassing to discuss such filthy things as if it were completely normal. Just having Achilles whisper obscene things in his ear at lunch was enough to make Patroclus' ears grow red.
Instead, he puts more lube on his hand and rubs some warmth into them before pressing the tip of his middle finger to Achilles' asshole. His boyfriend yelps in surprise at the intrusion. "Shit! Nope, sure haven't!"
Thinking about how tight he must be makes Patroclus' head spin, all the blood in his brain rushing down somewhere else. "Did you imagine me doing this in your daydreams?" he questions. Achilles' eyes widen almost comically.
"I-I mean, I might have, yes." He shifts uncomfortably. His dick is still hard and leaking against his stomach. "I just never did it myself. I was… scared, I guess. That it might hurt. I don't know."
Patroclus softens. He appreciates Achilles being so open and honest. There was no need for Achilles to be shy around him, not when they knew they could tell each other everything with no judgment. It melts his heart and makes him fall in love all over again. "I'll go slow," he comforts him gently, "but only if you want it."
"I do want it, but…" Achilles hesitates. "Can I be dumb for a minute?"
"Nothing you say is dumb, Achilles."
His boyfriend still seems reluctant. "Can you hold my hand? While you do it, I mean."
God, Patroclus was never letting him go. Not in a million years. Not if it killed him. He fits his hand into Achilles and their fingers interlock into place. His palm is cold and clammy against Patroclus', but Patroclus only tightens his grip. He'd make sure Achilles knew there was no reason to be afraid.
He pushes against Achilles' hole with some resistance. His golden boy squeezes his hand tight and whines softly, pitifully. Patroclus leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. "You have to relax," he instructs Achilles. It takes a moment, but Patroclus can finally manage to work his finger in to his first knuckle. It's so warm and tight around his finger, and Patroclus wonders how he's ever supposed to fit.
"I don't think I can do it today," Achilles admits, voicing Patroclus' concern. "Um, have you fuck me, I mean. I'm sorry, Pat, I-"
"No, no, there's no need to apologize." Patroclus rubs his thumb along the back of Achilles' hand soothingly. "Do you want me to stop?" Of course Patroclus was a little disappointed at the thought, but he'd also be perfectly happy ending everything right now and pulling Achilles to his chest, embracing him tight and whispering praise into his ear. Everything was for Achilles. He could never do anything wrong in Patroclus' eyes.
Achilles seems relieved that Patroclus doesn't push him. "You can try a little more. I want to be prepared for next time." Next time. The thought alone makes Patroclus shiver with anticipation.
He goes slower than before, waiting for the tension to leave Achilles' features before pushing in any further. After a minute, Patroclus' finger is fully inside of him. Achilles still looks uncomfortable. He just hasn't found the right spot, Patroclus decides. He nudges his finger deeper in Achilles, searching for what he knew would feel just right-
His finger brushes against something and Achilles shouts.
Patroclus starts to remove his finger, horrified that he had managed to hurt Achilles, but his boyfriend shakes his head frantically. "More of that," he instructs breathlessly. "God, Pat, I need- please." The terror that had lodged in his throat sheathes its claws for now. Achilles had liked it. Nothing was wrong.
He grinds his finger against Achilles' prostate and watches him writhe and moan in response. His walls tighten around Patroclus' hand and urge him to give more, more of that sweet relief and the ecstacy that came with it. Patroclus pumps his finger in and out, curling it just right upon entry to hit Achilles' sweet spot every time.
"Do you want me to put another one in?" he asks hoarsely. Patroclus is dizzy with arousal, his mind playing scenario after scenario of thrusting into Achilles and fucking him until he cries. Another time, Patroclus thinks wistfully. Achilles nods, and Patroclus starts to push in a second finger. His hole stretches with moderate resistance, and Patroclus fears that he really is going to hurt Achilles. He's just so tight, so inexperienced and Patroclus worries he'll give a bad first impression of sex to his boyfriend and ruin things forever.
But Achilles seems to still be enjoying himself. He groans at first in discomfort, but easily grows acclimated to the sensation of two fingers inside of him. His legs spread a little wider as indication for Patroclus that everything was alright. He's so obedient, one hand holding his thighs apart even as Achilles shakes and trembles at his growing climax.
Patroclus is still holding his hand, although Achilles squeezes so tightly that his fingers hurt and his fingernails dig crescents into Patroclus' skin. He starts to let go of him, to put his hand to better use, but Achilles grabs his wrist before he can pull away. His green eyes are blown out with arousal. Achilles tries to protest, mouth open with the beginning of a complaint, but he can only pant shallowly as Patroclus fingers his hole.
"I have you," Patroclus reassures him gently. He'd always be just within reach. All Achilles had to do was call his name and Patroclus would come running.
He wraps his other hand around Achilles' weeping dick and strokes- slow and rough, his thumb paying extra attention to the ruddy head. Achilles can only turn his face into the pillows and whine. Patroclus commits the picture of his lover to memory: blond curls damp with sweat, face pink with lust, eyes screwed shut. He seems so different from the usual boyish Achilles who walked Patroclus to class with their arms swinging between them and cupped his hands around Patroclus' ear to tell him he was handsome like it was some sort of secret.
You're absolutely wonderful, Achilles murmured softly into Patroclus' ear in the library. His lips against the shell of Patroclus' ear makes him shiver. You know that, right?
And Patroclus doubts him, of course. It was against what he'd been told all his life. But being with Achilles, braving each day with his hand in Patroclus' made it a little easier to believe as time went on. If someone as bright and beautiful as Achilles could see the good in him, surely Patroclus must be a decent person.
He leans down and presses his lips to Achilles' cheek. His face is warm and slick with sweat, but Patroclus doesn't mind. "You can let go," he urges Achilles. His boyfriend lets out a strangled whine. "It's alright. I've got you."
Patroclus hits his prostate hard and kisses Achilles as he comes, swallowing his sobs with soft encouragement and praise. He trembles violently as he coats his stomach with his seed. He's still shaking when he's finished and limp, sighing into Patroclus' lips. Patroclus pulls his fingers out with a gross pop! and they both grimace.
"You still with me?" Patroclus asks. He sits on the edge of the bed, leaning over Achilles' wrecked form.
His boyfriend gives a shaky thumbs up. "Holy shit," Achilles giggles breathlessly. He turns himself so he can press his face against Patroclus' thigh. His body vibrates with quiet laughter, and Patroclus assumes that's a yes. "Can we do that more often?"
Both of Patroclus' hands are gross. He wipes some of the slick wetness off onto his pants before resting one hand on Achilles' back. "You're insatiable," he chides fondly, feeling the bumps of his boyfriend's spine with his fingertips.
Achilles hums in agreement and wraps his arms around Patroclus' waist. "Well worth the wait."
"What wait?" Patroclus massages the back of Achilles' neck. "Till I was ready? I'm sorry, I don't know why I was so weird before-"
"No, no," Achilles interrupts. "Not that. I didn't mind." He looks up at Patroclus shyly. "I… may have wanted to do that with you for some time." He coughs into his fist. "Um, a while before we were together, even."
"Oh, yes, from what I've heard you've even dreamt about it on occasion-"
"Oh hush."
Patroclus smiles slyly. "Was I this good in your daydreams, as well?" He's not sure where this cheekiness is coming from. Neither does Achilles, from the way he chokes on a reply and stares up at Patroclus wide-eyed.
"Who stole my Patroclus and replaced him with someone so cruel?" Achilles laments. "Bring back my sweet boyfriend. The one that feeds the ducks and draws little hearts on my homework." He rubs his cheek against Patroclus' thigh with a sad sigh. Always one for overdramatics.
"I'm afraid you're stuck with me."
Achilles shakes his head, disappointed. "I suppose you'll do for now." The cute Achilles from before was long gone, and Patroclus' obnoxious lover was here to stay. Not like he couldn't still tease him. Patroclus intended to never let Achilles forget just how sweet and pliant he could be if left to Patroclus' devices.
Patroclus gives Achilles a few more moments to catch his breath. He doesn't mind the quiet- Patroclus rubs Achilles' back slowly and soothingly, and Achilles keeps his head on his leg and makes no noise.
Eventually, though, Achilles sits up in a rush. "You're still hard," he says. His hand grips the inside of Patroclus' thigh, dangerously close to where his erection aches for relief. Really, Patroclus had been fine treating Achilles like a king and putting his own satisfaction on the back burner. He hadn't minded. Anything for Achilles.
"Yeah, but I'm alright-" he tries, but Achilles interrupts.
"No, I want to return the favor." He squeezes Patroclus' leg and earns a strangled moan in return. "Lay down."
Patroclus would like to argue that Achilles really didn't have to do anything for him, but the part of his brain clouded over with lust screams at him to just shut up already. He maneuvers onto his back, hands awkwardly clasped over his bare chest. There was an idea of what Achilles had in mind, but Patroclus wasn't sure why he was the one who was so anxious.
His boyfriend palms at the front of Patroclus' jeans, and his nerves melt away with a soft moan.
It's so much different when it's Achilles unzipping his pants and pulling him from his boxers. His hands are calloused, fingers long and sure as they grip his shaft. He bends over and presses a kiss to the head of his dick before sliding onto his stomach. Watching him makes Patroclus feel lightheaded: Achilles with his head between his legs and his arms over Patroclus' thighs.
"It's my first time doing this," Achilles admits, although Patroclus already knows this, "so tell me if I'm doing alright." Patroclus jerks his head in a nod. He can't imagine Achilles could possibly do it wrong.
He dips his head down and takes Patroclus into his mouth. Too much at once: Patroclus is overwhelmed at the heat of the inside of his mouth, and Achilles coughs and lets up for a moment. "Slower," Patroclus advises as Achilles swallows uncomfortably and rubs at his throat. "You don't have to rush."
Achilles looks impatient, but he obeys. He bends back down and presses his lips to Patroclus' head. His mouth parts, and he takes him in just past the ruddy tip. Patroclus throws his head back and groans, fingers clenching the bedsheets tightly. That was good. Much better.
What Achilles lacks in experience he makes up for in eagerness. He sucks Patroclus' head and dips his tongue into his slit rough enough for Patroclus to buck his hips in shock. His hand grips what isn't yet in his mouth, stroking slowly in time with his head bobbing on Patroclus' dick.
His hair is too long. It falls in front of Achilles' eyes and gets in the way of his eyesight and his lips. Patroclus reaches out to tuck the stray curls behind his ear when he gets a better idea. He pulls Achilles' hair back in a sort of ponytail and keeps his hand fisted in his golden locks. Achilles glances up, seemingly amused, before he focuses on taking another inch in his mouth.
Patroclus thinks he wouldn't mind if this were how he died: Achilles sucking him off, pleasure short circuiting his brain and heat building in his stomach. He tightens his fist in Achilles' hair and holds on for dear life. In turn, Achilles moans around him. His boyfriend can only take maybe half of him down his throat, obviously struggling with his gag reflex, but it's more than enough to get Patroclus off. He has to make a conscious effort not to rock his hips into Achilles' mouth and choke him.
He feels the beginning of his orgasm already threatening to explode like a dying star. Patroclus pulls on Achilles' hair frantically. "Off, get off, I'm…" But Achilles doesn't move his head. He swallows around Patroclus and speeds up his hand. It's too much, and Patroclus pushes on his forehead weakly once more before his climax rips through him. When he comes, he comes harder than he ever has before. His vision blurs around the edges at the intensity, and Patroclus is left wheezing in the aftermath.
Achilles has one hand over his mouth as if he's debating swallowing Patroclus' seed. "You can go spit it out in the bathroom," Patroclus says hoarsely. Much to his dismay, Achilles swallows in one big gulp and coughs. "Jesus, really?"
"I never back down," Achilles insists. His face is screwed up at the taste. Way to make Patroclus feel great about himself.
"It wasn't a challenge," Patroclus points out. He knows there's no talking sense into his boyfriend. Achilles looks proud of himself regardless, lips drawn in a smug smile and eyes glittering with his personal victory. Maybe it would be more meaningful if he didn't look absolutely wrecked.
Patroclus opens his arms as an invitation, and Achilles falls into them immediately. He's gross and sticky against Patroclus' chest, but knowing Achilles he won't move no matter how much Patroclus complains. So he endures it, arms holding Achilles tightly in place.
"I want a kiss," Achilles mumbles, tilting his head up so his lips are against Patroclus' chin.
Patroclus shudders at the thought. "No, you're going to taste nasty."
Achilles props himself up on one elbow and leans over Patroclus, a pout spoiling his pretty features. "You're neglecting your poor, poor boyfriend," he says. "Kiss me."
"I said no-" Achilles squishes Patroclus' cheeks together to pucker his lips and swoops in to kiss him. Patroclus squeaks, turning his head to the side so Achilles' lips land on the corner of his mouth. A strong hand holds his shoulder down, and Patroclus wriggles and pushes at Achilles as he's forced into a chaste kiss. Like he expected: it's disgusting. Patroclus sticks his tongue out afterwards and groans.
Achilles looks satisfied enough. "It's your jizz," he says pointedly, settling back down against Patroclus' chest.
"Yeah, that I told you to spit out. And don't say jizz, that's just a terrible word."
His boyfriend snickers.
…
Achilles spends the night, and it’s wonderful.
For once, Patroclus wakes up to the sun instead of his alarm blaring in his ear. He cracks one eye open and glares at the parted curtains as if they’ve personally offended him. Beside him, Achilles still sleeps soundly in his arms. He’s got the same boyish charm when he’s asleep that Patroclus had fallen so hard for: his lips are slightly parted, hair fanned across his pillow in a golden sheet of curls.
Patroclus rarely sees Achilles so at peace. He lays his head on the same pillow and presses their foreheads together. Was this what love was supposed to feel like? This overwhelming balloon of emotion in his chest? It’s like free falling with no change of reaching the ground, and Patroclus isn’t sure he’d ever want to land in the first place.
Achilles stirs beside him, murmuring something unintelligible and pressing closer to Patroclus' chest. He exhales softly against Patroclus face.
"Good morning, sunshine," Patroclus greets him softly. He brushes a stray curl behind Achilles' ear and smiles as he rouses from sleep.
His boyfriend only grunts in response.
Patroclus tangles a hand in Achilles' hair and pulls his boyfriend's head to his chest. He massages his scalp and glances back at the window.
It's bright, maybe a few hours past what he normally wakes up at. Patroclus grabs his phone from the beside table and squints. Eleven AM.
Eleven? Fuck, Patroclus had class with mandatory attendance at eleven fifteen!
He wrangles himself out of Achilles' arms and throws the covers off, much to his boyfriend's dismay. Achilles groans and pulls a pillow over his head as Patroclus frantically tries to find something decent to wear.
"Shit shit shit!" Patroclus chants, ripping open one of his dresser drawers and grabbing the first shirt he can reach. He still feels gross from the night before, but he could shower once he got home.
Achilles lifts one side of the pillow and watches Patroclus rush. "Pat," he calls out, voice muffled.
There was still the problem of Achilles. Patroclus could leave him behind, sure, but then there's be no one to lock the door when Achilles went to class. "Can you get ready in five minutes?" Patroclus asks. He finds his jeans from the night before and wrestles them on.
"Patroclus." Achilles still isn't moving. In fact, he's watching Patroclus with a small smile on his face.
"Nevermind, I can swing by and come get you after class. You'll have just enough time to make your twelve thirty." Patroclus runs into his bathroom to put on some deodorant and brush his teeth. He was running late and very much not able to freshen up, sure, but he wasn't a total monster.
"Pat, my beloved," Achilles says. The pet name grabs Patroclus' attention immediately. He pokes his head out the bathroom door, toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. Achilles is sitting up in bed now, one hand rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. "It's Saturday. There's no classes."
Oh, right.
Patroclus spits the toothpaste out and wipes his face off with a hand towel. "You could've told me sooner," he mutters weakly, sitting beside Achilles in bed. His boyfriend has the blankets wrapped around his shoulders. Patroclus steals a bit of the covers from him and nestles against Achilles' side.
"You didn't give me the chance," Achilles chuckles. He kisses Patroclus on the temple. "You know how you get when you're stressed."
Okay, so maybe Patroclus didn't handle being late very well. It wasn't his fault he had standards to uphold. "Try harder." He lays his head on Achilles' shoulder. This was much nicer than going to class anyways.
Achilles looks at Patroclus so fondly that Patroclus isn't sure what to do with himself. "You're lucky I love you, you know that?"
As soon as he says it, he freezes. Patroclus takes his head away from his shoulder and meets Achilles' frightened gaze. Neither had told the other they loved him yet.
Achilles' cheeks are pink with embarrassment. He covers his head with the blankets and hunches in on himself, looking anywhere but at Patroclus. "I, um, I mean love as in… like, you know-"
Patroclus takes Achilles by the chin and tilts his head so they're facing each other one more. "I love you, too," he says. He's never been more sure of anything in his life. Achilles opens his mouth to say something, but Patroclus is already closing the distance with a kiss.
It's more tender than before with the knowledge they had nowhere to be except here in Patroclus' room. Achilles sighs happily into Patroclus' lips. He tugs the blanket over his head until it hides both of them from the world. The sunlight is blocked out and it's only the two of them in their own little world.
Patroclus backs from Achilles' lips, and his boyfriend chases after him. "You're ridiculous," he murmurs against Achilles' mouth. Achilles doesn't reply immediately, still peppering Patroclus' face with kisses. "As if you hadn't already stolen my heart."
Achilles smiles wide. "And you, mine." He rubs their noses together. His grin is so genuine, so loving. Patroclus can't help but rest one hand on Achilles' cheek and rub a thumb along the indent of his dimple. "I was just worried you might think it was too soon."
"Is it?" Patroclus voices aloud. They'd almost been together a month. Maybe for other couples, but Patroclus felt they were different somehow.
"I don't know." Achilles frowns in thought. "I'm not exactly the right person to ask."
But there couldn't be anything wrong with this, with knowing they shared the same feelings for each other. It didn't matter if they had said they loved each other two weeks ago or months from now. Patroclus knew deep in his heart that he needed to be with Achilles.
Now that Patroclus has said it once, he doesn't intend to ever stop. "I love you, Achilles," he says. It sounds more natural the second time around, as if Patroclus were born to say it. Achilles beams brighter than the sun.
"I love you, Patroclus." Pa-tro-clus, not rushed like when his teachers called his name or his father told him how disappointed he was. Each syllable is pronounced with adoration, the promise of something long-lasting.