Patrochilles ~ Anything But Lovers

Sun Dipped Low

Fuck anyone who says Travis Kelce, Patrick Mahomes, and the rest of the Cheifs deserved the win. I'm screaming, balling my eyes out, as I write this. Be worried!

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across Mount Pelion. In their shared cave, Patroclus sat restlessly, Achilles' silence heavy in the air. The night before, under a sky thick with stars, Achilles had leaned in, his lips seeking Patroclus' in the darkness. Fear, a cold serpent, had coiled in Patroclus' gut, and he'd pulled away, his voice sharp with rejection.

Shame gnawed at him. Chiron, their wise mentor, had offered an open ear after their morning training, a silent invitation neither of them had dared accept. Patroclus, burdened by the weight of his own emotions, finally stood.

"I'll speak with Chiron," he announced, his voice barely above a whisper.

Achilles looked up, surprise flickering across his face. He opened his mouth to speak, but Patroclus held up a hand. "Please," he pleaded, "let me."

He found Chiron near the stream, the sound of water a soothing counterpoint to the turmoil within him. The centaur greeted him with his usual gentle smile, but Patroclus saw the knowing glint in his eyes.

"I know you offered to speak," Patroclus blurted, "about... what happened."

Chiron sat patiently, his silence urging Patroclus on. He poured out his confusion, the fear that had choked his words the night before, the turmoil of a love forbidden by whispers and societal norms.

As he spoke, a strange calm settled over him. Chiron's attentive gaze held no judgment, only understanding. He spoke softly of the power of love, of its ability to defy expectations, to carve its own path. He reminded Patroclus that their bond, their love, was not something to be ashamed of, but something to cherish, to protect.

Leaving Chiron, Patroclus felt a lightness he hadn't known he missed. He walked back to the cave, his heart no longer heavy with shame, but with a newfound resolve.

He found Achilles by the fire, his face shadowed. "I spoke to Chiron," Patroclus said simply.

Achilles looked up, hope glimmering in his eyes. "And?"

Patroclus sat down beside him, the firelight painting their faces in warm hues. "He said," he began, taking a deep breath, "that love, true love, can't be caged. It finds a way, Achilles. It finds its own path."

Achilles' hand reached for his, his touch sending a familiar warmth through Patroclus. "And what path does our love choose, Patroclus?"

Patroclus met his gaze, his answer unspoken but understood. He leaned in, not with fear, but with a newfound courage, and their lips met in the flickering firelight. This time, there was no shame, only the comforting silence of shared love, the murmur of the stream outside their cave, and the promise of a future they would build together, defying whispers and societal norms, hand in hand, heart to heart.

The next day, the training grounds buzzed with speculation, but Patroclus and Achilles walked with their heads held high. Their love was no longer a secret, but a truth they embraced, a beacon that shone brighter than any whispered doubt. And as they stood side-by-side, facing their destiny, they knew their love was not a weakness, but their greatest strength.