Patrochilles ~ Anything But Lovers

Pilot

Achilles stirred, the embers of a dream clinging to his subconscious. Images flickered – crashing waves, the glint of moonlight on sand, and laughter echoing in the darkness. He reached out instinctively, finding the warmth of Patroclus beside him. Panic flared momentarily, replaced by a wave of relief as he saw Patroclus fast asleep, his chest rising and falling rhythmically.

The dream felt different, more vivid than usual. There was a charged awareness, a touch that sent shivers down his spine, a whispered secret shared under the cloak of night. Shame mingled with longing within him, a bittersweet reminder of the desires they could never fully express.

He sat up, the cool morning air sending goosebumps across his skin. Patroclus stirred, and Achilles held his breath, fearing he'd woken him. But Patroclus only mumbled sleepily and rolled over, leaving an empty space that felt achingly vast.

He glanced at the sliver of the moon still visible in the sky – a silent witness to their stolen moments. It was time to rejoin the world, don the mask of stoicism expected of him. Yet, the memory of the dream, the phantom warmth beside him, lingered, igniting a spark of defiance within him.

He dressed quietly, the familiar movements taking on a new meaning. Each buckle fastened, each strap tightened, was a silent promise to himself, to their shared secret. When he finished, he turned to Patroclus, his expression unreadable.

"Patroclus," he whispered, his voice rough with unspoken emotion. "We need to leave. There's something I need to show you."

Patroclus' eyes fluttered open, a question dancing in their depths. He sat up, the sleepiness instantly replaced by a keen awareness. He saw the unspoken turmoil simmering in Achilles' gaze, the hint of urgency in his voice.

Without a word, Patroclus rose, pulling on his own garments with a haste that mirrored Achilles'. They moved in sync, an unspoken understanding hanging heavy in the air. Reaching the tent flap, Achilles paused, his eyes searching Patroclus' face.

"Are you ready?" he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Patroclus met his gaze, a resolute glint replacing the sleepiness. "Always," he replied, his voice equally soft.