Patrochilles ~ Anything But Lovers

He knows! He knows! And I know he knows! I know he knows!

Like I said before, if you're homophobic, GO DIE IN A FATHER-FUCKING HOLE.

The training grounds buzzed with the usual pre-dawn energy. Grunts and clashes of wooden swords filled the air, punctuated by Chiron's booming instructions. But today, amidst the familiar rhythm, a discordant note vibrated.

Chiron, his gaze sweeping over his trainees, felt it instantly. A tension between Achilles and Patroclus, a subtle shift in their movements, a spark of something hidden in their averted glances. It was like a shadow cast over their usually synchronized dance, a dissonance that sent a prickle of unease down his spine.

He had watched them grow, their bond blossoming from shared laughter and playful sparring into a deep, unspoken connection. They were inseparable, two halves of a whole, their movements echoing each other's thoughts before they were even spoken. But today, the echo faltered, replaced by a hesitant push and pull.

As they sparred, their attacks lacked their usual precision, their movements hesitant, almost guarded. Where once they fought with a joyful ferocity, now each blow seemed measured, careful not to overstep the invisible line that had formed between them.

Chiron paused the training, his eyes lingering on the pair. "Something troubles you, Achilles," he said, his voice laced with concern. "And Patroclus, your focus seems divided."

Achilles met his gaze, his expression unreadable. "Nothing troubles us, Chiron," he said, his voice clipped.

Patroclus remained silent, his eyes fixed on the ground. Chiron knew they were lying, but pushing them wouldn't reveal the truth. He needed a different approach.

"Sometimes," he said, his voice softer now, "the greatest battles are fought not with weapons, but within ourselves. Are you sure you are both ready to face whatever is truly going on?"

His words hung heavy in the air, the trainees watching with bated breath. A flicker of something crossed Achilles' face, a mix of defiance and vulnerability. He opened his mouth to speak, but Patroclus cut him off.

"We are ready," he said, his voice firm but lacking conviction.

Chiron nodded, sensing the unspoken plea for privacy. "Then continue your training," he said, his gaze lingering on them for a moment longer. "But remember, even the strongest warriors need support. Do not hesitate to seek guidance of your friendship. You know I can tell something is wrong."

As the training resumed, Chiron watched them with a keen eye. He knew something had shifted between them, a secret that weighed heavily on their hearts. He couldn't pry, but he could offer a safe space, a listening ear if they needed it.

The day wore on, and the tension between Achilles and Patroclus remained. They trained diligently, completing their exercises with practiced skill, but the spark was gone, replaced by a hollow echo of their usual camaraderie.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the training grounds, Chiron saw them walking away, their figures silhouetted against the fiery sky. He watched them disappear into the distance, a sense of unease gnawing at his gut.

The secret they held, whatever it was, was eating away at their bond. He knew that left unchecked, it could fester and grow, poisoning their friendship and potentially leading them down a dangerous path. He only hoped they would find the courage to confront it, to seek help before the shadows consumed them.

As the night deepened, Chiron sat alone by the fire, the flames reflecting in his wise eyes. He knew he couldn't force them to open up, but he could offer a beacon of hope, a reminder that even in the darkest of shadows, there was always light to be found. And he would be there, waiting, ready to guide them if they needed him.