cowsonabus - Tumblr blog

cowsonabus · 8 months ago

Text

PATROCHILLES FANFIC CALLED Don't they know its the end of the world? BY cowsonabus

hey! so i decided to post my other fanfic on here- i havent updated in over a month due to work load and planning but a new chapter should be out around friday? I usually aim for a new chapter every two weeks, every week if i have time.

also-if its hard to read in this its because its b en copies from ao3! its formatted a lot clearer there i think. i recommend reading it on there, this is more of a taster for the actual fic.

Enjoy!!

PATROCLUS POV

Patroclus had always believed that death would be peaceful. He had never envisioned some grand afterlife for himself- maybe, he thought, the heros of the world would be promised the sweetness and security of eternal paradise for themselves. But for himself? No. He didn't believe he would be rewarded with such. He had believed he would be allowed what in its own way was the greatest gift- rest. He had hoped that when he died his mind would be soothed as his body finally put to sleep, he had envisioned his life after death as quiet and slow, where he mindlessly progressed through time.

That was until the end of the fucking world happened.

Now when you died, if not by being bitten, there was no one left to preserve or handle your corpse. Your dead body would have to be let to slowly rot away in whatever hiding place you had managed to secure, and if you weren't lucky enough to die where your body was hidden there was no doubt any zombies within a mile would sniff you out and tear into your flesh without remorse. And hey- on the rare occasion your corpse was found by another human being it would most likely be ignored or treated with the utmost disrespect. After the outbreak, morality seemed to become a thing of the past.

Funny thing actually, Patroclus found himself staring at the corpse of a young girl being torn to shreds by the undead from his makeshift apartment. He watched their teeth sink into her soft flesh shredding it in seconds, watched the blood drain out and pool around her lifeless form. Flecks of flesh splattered around.

At first, this had turned his stomach. He had seen many gruesome things at his time in med school yet cannibalism was a whole new factor. However, after seeing it so much he had grown used to it- almost apathetic. Even so, watching a young girl of about 11 be destroyed like that was unsettling. Children had little to no chance of survival, he wondered how she had survived so long.

He often found himself in times like these revising his old medical notes. After the fall of pretty much any type of government or monarchy, he had hoped to find a solution by himself. Because if he couldn't rely on himself, there really was no one else to rely on. He hadn't made much progress yet. He had done a multitude of experiments to try find out how to solve the epidemic of undead. He had hated every single one. Watching people and animals go through the process of turning was gruesome and disgusting. They were fine the first few days until they're bodies started to mutate, first, their minds would alter. Their loss of speech and social skills was the first thing to happen, second, was the increased hostility and animalistic behavior. After that their bodies would start to grow, teeth and nails would sharpen and harden acting as new weapons for the beasts, then their bones would grow and extend awkwardly in places. Legs would be slightly too long, torsos would become unnaturally lanky, and faces would become sunken. And shit- they got fast. They weren't particularly strong but they were impossibly fast, alarmingly fast.

So far he had concluded that the turning process would take about seven days, and humans and other animals with simillar genetic makeup were the only things that seemed to get infected. He had noticed the often the desire for food often outweighed the desire to reproduce and multiply. Seven times out of ten a zombie would rather feast on its prey then turn them.

He had also noticed something when he visited a hospital for supplies. It seemed the zombies couldn't infect anything below 10 properly, small children would often lie in hospital beds half infected, either a mixture of physical deformities and mental abnormalities yet not undead or a mixture of undead behavioral traits yet no abnormalities or deformities. He had been horrified when he found the baby ward. The small creatures seemed unable to move in their weak vessels yet seemed unable to die by themselves. Any normal baby would have died in that cold, desolate hospital within a few hours without someone to look after it yet these babies still lay there crying in their deformed state. He had felt pity for them and fled. He couldn't see those things again. They were disgusting.

He turned away from the window with a slight gag, the girl's head had just been ripped off by an excessively violent zombie.

He looked around the apartment he had managed to secure for himself for the next week. He was attempting to cross over a couple of states to find a camp he had caught wind of on his radio. The message they were broadcasting was as follows: "We have found an immune. We need medical professionals to experiment properly. If you are hearing this, our coordinates are -----. May the gods smile upon you and bring you safely to us"

At first, he had believed himself insane when he heard the message, he couldn't believe there were other living beings so close to him. He wondered about the immune they had caught. He had theorized about them often and had been looking for any other survivors ten times harder now. He was scared a third-year medical student wasn't classed as a medical professional, but if he could just find them immune or anyone else to experiment on- maybe they would accept him into their sanctuary. It was an awful thing to do- to capture someone like that and trick them into following him. But some things were for the better. some things needed to be done for the greater good. He was tired of fighting constantly for a chance to live, and if he could get humanity one step closer to healing he would do it in an instant. The war against the undead had turned him calloused and cruel. Once he just wanted to help people but now? After seeing people act like savages,? He couldn't find it in himself to care.

He sighed as he settled himself onto the bed. It was surprisingly soft and fresh, the thick duvet and mattress brought his tired body immense comfort. His stomach rumbled.

He was running low on food. He needed to go scavenge outside. Gods- he hated it but it wasn't like he was provided with many choices.

Later, he thought. Later he would grab food.

He trudged through the abandoned streets of the city. He had no idea where he was if he was honest. Sure, he could probably find out if he wanted to but what was the point now? who cares where he was. all he needed now was food.

The city was a mix of towering skyscrapers full of offices or apartments, hotels popping up here and there- but the main parts of the city consisted of shops. Every street had some sort of shop or two lining it. This was one of the perks. Plenty of stores to keep him entertained when he scavenged. It was convenient for keeping him clean too- there were always clothing stores where he could grab fresh clothes. He had done so a few days ago, grabbing himself thick cargo pants, a tank top and plaid overshirt, and an aviator coat. He wouldn't typically dress like this but clean clothes were better than none. Besides, the coat was nice. A dark thick leather with comfortable sheepskin inside. It was expensive and high quality- before the outbreak, he probably wouldn't have been able to afford it. Financial freedom was one of the few perks to a zombie apocalypse.

The sun was beginning to ease itself from the sky which worried him slightly- never mind zombies, soon the wildlife would begin to feel braver. while the wildlife wasn't bad- turned animals were. He found it difficult to kill them, it hurt his heart to do so, especially dogs. Speaking of dogs he had acquired one of his own lately. He hadn't tamed the stray on purpose yet every time he left the apartment he was staying at the dog would find him and silently follow. He was grateful for its silence, he knew he would be upset if he had to kill it due to zombies. It was a dusky grey great Dane. It was gentle in nature and a rather sweet thing. It seemed to miss company as much as Patroclus did. He had named it Iris after one of his favorite flowers. How long ago it seemed when he was receiving and giving bouquets of flowers. He stared at the ground hard as he walked.

He had dated only a few boys growing up for the majority of his childhood he was far too afraid of his father to think of doing such a thing but when he was kicked out at 16 he stopped caring. A kind-hearted professor from the local university named Chiron had taken him in. He taught him about medicine and fighting and various other skills in life, listened to him talk about school, and was essentially the father he never had. He felt his stomach ache at that thought. After he had left for university in another state he had no idea what happened to Chiron. He had last seen him when he was turning twenty a few months before the initial outbreak.

Maybe it was stupid but some part of him would like to believe Chiron was alive and well somewhere.

He shook his head to clear it when he felt a wet nose nudging at his palm. The dog beside him wagged its tail and licked at his fingers. He scratched the top of its head lightly and continued to walk down the pavement.

He had entered a busted open corner store in hopes of finding food. Iris had wandered off elsewhere outside, keen to not enter the building.

He peered between ransacked shelves for left overs, stuffing any useful items into his satchel quietly. There admittedly wasn't much available for him to choose from, either canned beans and lentils or soup nowadays. Foolishly many people for some reason had taken fresh foods in the beginning.. During the outbreak, people didn't think rationally simply just joined in whatever raid they could and stole whatever they could reach. This didn't mean there hadn't been smart people who grabbed longer-lasting foods it just meant many were too panicked to prepare properly. He shoved cans of different food into his bag and grabbed seasonings. Any bottled liquid that hadn't expired since the initial outbreak last year was also shoved in. He was just looking over the pharmacy aisle when he heard a sharp cry of pain.

His head snapped to the right, his heart thumping and his stomach dropping. It was a high-pitched sort of groan- hard to tell if it was animal or human. His first thoughts went to Iris and he felt sick bubbling up his throat. That's when he heard a second groan, deeper alongside a few pained whimpers. Human.

He stumbled away to the stock room in a panic, just because it was human didn't make it any less dangerous. By those sounds, it was injured meaning its scent was stronger to the zombies. And even if they weren't injured they could be bait. He had seen the atrocities created by unsupervised men and women- he would not fall into their traps. That's why his heart almost stopped when he heard a man dragging himself through the store on a faulty leg, begging with Patroclus.

"ple- please! fuck-, this hurts. Please- dont go. i need- please!"

He recognized that voice from somewhere, his hair prickled on the back of his neck.

Danger danger danger danger-

Fast footsteps, a zombie-

danger danger danger danger.

That man would be dead in a few seconds. He should hide. however.. if that man turned out to be an immune or possible test subject it could be his ticket out of this fight for survival, he could be a ticket into the sanctuary.

Danger danger danger dangerdangerdangerdangerdangerdanger-

He stepped out, yanking the man by the waist and shoving them into the storage room with him, locking the door.

It was dark and without a lot a room, it was more of a closet really. He couldn't exactly make out their face- his eyes hadn't adjusted to the darkness yet. He could however feel their leg slotted between his, could feel hot sticky blood dribbling down his leg. Were they bitten? did he just fucking lock himself in a closet with a stage idontknow zombie? He couldn't breathe. His palms sweated and his breaths shallowed. He could hear their quiet prayers of thanks. Where they stupid-? they needed to be quiet if undead were around. The scent was bad enough but adding noise?

He clamped his palm against their mouth forcing them to shut up. His eyes had started to adjust.

He could see a very startled blonde man behind his hand.

Golden hair with a few stray honeyed locks falling over his face, gentle waves that fell around his shoulders, a few clips in it. Pools of sea greens and gold stared back at him, his eyes were catlike and curious. His straight, narrow nose had no bumps or defects in it, and that bronzed skin had no marks of imperfection or signs of the sun on it- It was abnormally radiant and smooth, something straight out of a magazine. Perfectly even eyebrows and rosy cheeks. Lean, athletic build- not unlike that of runners. Muscled and toned, tall. Every feature was strong and deliberate and looked as though it had to be cut by the sharpest knife- yet the overall look was not sharp. Gods- how unfucking fair, why does he get to be so pretty in the middle of an apocalypse?

For a moment he felt embarrassed by his own messy wild looks. He knew his own body was broader than the others, he was built like that of a boxer. He knew his hair was messy and dark, his curls going wild due to the atmosphere and occasional rain. He knew his skin was currently a little bumpy and coated in a thin sheen of sweat and god knows what else.

Then he felt incredibly stupid. I guess that's what a year of isolation does to a guy.

He pressed a finger to his own lips and the blonde nodded. He removed his hand and stared at them bemused. He had to be imagining this. It couldn't be. Achilles Pelides? Really?, The first and last time he was meeting an international star was in a zombie apocalypse. When he hadn't bathed in like a week and looked disgusting, really?

Whatever it didn't matter. It seemed the man before him was stupid as he was gorgeous which was rather convenient for Patroclus. He bet the sanctuary would want someone like Achilles to toy with. The nation's sweetheart, teenage heartthrob, pretty and talented- who wouldn't want to take him in? It seemed he had struck gold. A rather popular, stupid blonde had fallen into his grasp.

He knew it was wrong to trick the other man or try to trick him into being a test subject for the sanctuary. It didn't matter. He couldn't go soft or start to get attached to a man he barely knew. If Achilles wanted his help he would have to help Patroclus get into that sanctuary in return.

The blonde eyed him cautiously. Maybe he thought Patroclus wanted to hurt him. Despite himself, he felt nervous now.

They stood like that for at least half an hour until Patroclus decided it was safe to speak. He moved his leg, starting to bombard the other with questions when Achilles let out a loud yelp of pain. Right, his leg injury. perfect.

Just, perfect.

Chapter 2: honey

Notes:

Hi! any advice or feedback is welcome- I find it helpful when people give me constructive feedback or their thoughts on a chapter so if you have any make sure to lmk :) If I get something wrong please feel free to correct me!

Achilles POV

Achilles was forced into a dingy, musty-smelling closet. It was dark, too dark to make anything out. He could feel his heart pounding as he resisted the urge to try pull away from his capture. He had no idea what to make of the situation. Was the man helping him, was he listening to his desperate cries for help? He hoped so. After the outbreak, it didn't take long for his security system to crumble. He lost any sense of safety after that. Dealing with zombies was one thing but in all honestly the hardest part was the filth. He couldn't stand the smell of rotting corpses and flesh EVERYWHERE. Gods- he had no problem killing zombies or getting dirty but the taste and smell of human flesh was not one for him. He had lived off the most disgusting animals and water- even gotten himself sick a few times from a few careless choices on what he would make a meal. He hated his new life. Not to mention he was so lonely.

It wasn't like he was particularly fond of anyone before the outbreak but he did miss the way everyone seemed to clamor around him and perform for scraps of his attention. The constant attention from his fans and the public was rewarding, it seemed like anything he did was revered and he wouldn't lie and pretend like he didn't like being fawned over by everyone. All he had to do was participate in some sports event, release a new song, appear on tv or something and he would be awarded praises and admiration. He had to admit he had always desired someone he actually liked but everyone was just so boring. it was always the same, he didn't like the pathetic weak-willed men who traipsed after him begging for his favor. He wanted someone who could entertain and surprise him yet he never found one. The whole idea of romance interested him yet he never quite satisfied that curiosity. The chances of finding someone like that now were even slimmer. Never mind, it's not like he could complain much anymore- there was no one to listen.

His eyes started to adjust to the darkness and he began to speak his thanks to his capture yet a warm hand was forcefully clamped to his mouth. Oh yes, silly him, zombies might be listening. He felt that it would be safe to speak but considering he had no idea what kind of nut job the other man could be he decided to simply comply and stand still. He couldn't stop himself from looking a little startled at the gesture, however. He slowly began to take in the man's features.

Oh.

fuck.

He was pretty to look at he supposed. However, he was almost 100% sure the man before him would turn out to be just as dull as the next. What a shame. A face like that is wasted on a personality so bland.

The man before him had dark honeyed skin, it was sable toned and held a few blemishes. He could see a mole on the side of the man's neck and some sort of acne scarring just above his jaw. It wasn't a ton and was really very subtle yet it added character Achilles thought. The man's hair was unkempt and slightly frizzy, falling in chocolatey curls. Some part of him wondered what it would be like to touch them. He then focused on the man's eyes. The man's eyes were slightly narrowed yet it didn't hide their beauty. A deep brown- almost black color with thick dark lashes, honey highlights, they stared at him with such intent for the first time ever he felt nervous. There was something so disarming about their gaze that he felt the need to look away. Gods- he should be grateful, even if this man turned out to be some sort of freak at least they were easy on his eyes. And hey- always a bonus, especially in times like these, they seemed to smell decent at least. He could smell traces of an earthy sort of cologne on them, yet there was something else too- something sweet yet that wasn't the right word that seemed to be the man's own. Almost like dates.

The man before him raised a finger to his lips and Achilles frantically nodded. The man before him removed his hand and leaned back against the wall of the closet. It was only then the man's lips parted in shock and his eyes widened. He knows who Achilles is. Of course he does, who wouldn't. He couldn't help but feel a little smug the man before him recognized him. He doubted it would be long before the man too would fall into line and start fawning over him, maybe even fall in love with him, maybe this meant Achilles would never even have to scavenge or fight again if he didn't want to.

He allowed himself a pleased little smile at that thought and the man before him frowned. That's odd. He didn't quite understand why they seemed to be unhappy, shouldn't they be happy? Whatever. He didn't care.

It was only then he noticed how close they were, not that he really cared. The man's eyes flitted to their legs which were pressed between each other and he snickered. Maybe the other man really was an idiot. Of course, they fancy and adore Achilles. Just more fun for Achilles- or...

There was no one to uphold the laws anymore and while Achilles was a competent fighter if not an extraordinary one he still felt a twinge of anxiety in his stomach. He hadn't thought that the man might try to use him for other possibilities. He looked at them suspiciously trying to gauge some sort of reaction. He could fight them, even on his leg if he needed to. But gods he hoped he wouldn't. despite surviving this long his leg could still get infected. He needed help as much as he hated to admit it.

After a while in a slightly tense silence, the brunette began to bombard him with questions.

He felt the other's leg drag against his cut and he let out a yelp of pain. His leg had gotten ripped in a fight by a piece of rubble. It burnt and had weird scabby patches that kept tearing open every time he moved.

The man in front looked apologetic and began mumbling that he was a med student and could help. Thank fuck. He was sick of his stupid leg.

"so- you can help my leg?" Achilles questioned.

"if you let me then yes. some stitches in a few places, bandages in case it tears open again and some painkillers will do you good." Came the stranger's voice.

Their voice was soft yet slightly raspy, warm, and gentle. He wondered for a moment how they sounded saying his name, he bet it was nice.

"Do you know who I am?" He asked tentatively

"...Achilles Pelides. son of Thetis and Peleus. Musician, singer, actor, athlete, the nation's teenage heartthrob." The man in front added a little sarcastically.

"Actually I turned 20 like a month ago, I'm just a heartthrob now," Achilles replied dryly which earned a sweet, tired-sounding laugh from the stranger.

"21"

"Sorry?"

"I'm 21."

"...okay. your name?"

"Patroclus"

Achilles nodded. It was a nice name.

"Patroclus?" he repeated softly, tasting the name, pat-ro-clus. The man in front stiffened when Achilles repeated the name.

The man just nodded.

"we should go. its- dark. dark outside" The other man had moved his leg again causing a sharp intake of breath to pause his speech. Patroclus nodded and quietly checked it was safe outside the closet, he then began a quick stride causing Achilles to scowl. On his leg, he could not keep up with the man, how irritating that they must hurry away. Nevertheless, he limped behind the man obediently.

When they stepped outside cold air hit him in the face, an unwelcome reminder that now summer was ending winter would be coming. He wasn't ready for winter. He hated the cold. He shook his head irritably and looked up. The sky was dark, a few stars littering it here and there, illuminating the ground below.

"I have a dog. Iris. she's fairly tame but don't do anything stupid. or try anything stupid anyway."

Achilles looked at the other spotting a dog. A giant dark thing that stood ominously next to the beautiful stranger. He had always liked dogs- He thought everyone who could afford one should have one. He wasn't scared by the loud bark of the dog either. He had tamed much fouler, scarier beasts of animals before, a mere dog was nothing to him. Besides, it wasn't just humans who seemed to like Achilles, animals did too.

After a few moments of silence.

"....do you need help walking,? we need to be quick"

"I think that would be best. please, if you wouldn't mind."

Wordlessly the other man wrapped an arm around Achilles and set off. As they walked crude thoughts kept popping into Achilles mind. He liked the way those hands felt, he wondered what else they could do. Gods, it's been a while.

Patroclus POV

As they walked through deserted pavements beneath the night sky his mind was racing. He had his arm wrapped around their waist as he tried to think what to do. Bringing them back to his makeshift hideout as a danger in case they really were some sort of bait. He didn't think they were as he had checked thoroughly for other traces of human life near the store and couldn't find any- but still, there was always the off chance he was wrong about it. However, there was still the chance the man himself was just not right in the head, letting them stay with him might mean they may try and harm him. But in their injured state? Shit. this wasn't exactly the most straightforward call to make yet he knew he needed to decide fast. He still needed to bring someone or something to the sanctuary as a possible offer to get himself in. Achilles would be useful for that. If he was careful he should be able to earn the man's trust and eventually use him for his plan. He guessed he had no choice but to take him to the apartment he had taken for himself.

Achilles POV

The entire walk to Patroclus' apartment his mind was certainly in the gutter. Could you blame him? he had been devoid of any attention for almost a year now- and god it was awful. Call him an attention whore he didn't care. It seemed even slight touches and words were exciting now. pathetic. Even so, that still didn't explain his interest in the man. The man had been so awkward and quiet to Achilles- even a little frustrated at times. Now that, that was interesting. No one before the outbreak dared treat him like that, all pining for his praise, but this strange man was almost indifferent to Achilles' celebrity. I mean his celebrity wasn't as impressive as before bt still- He was sure any normal person would be delighted to find the Achilles Pelides in a zombie apocalypse. Maybe it was his indifference that made him so intriguing. maybe Achilles was just touch-starved. Maybe it was both. Either way, he was certainly very pleased about meeting this man.

They neared a tall, run-down building and Patroclus slowed looking the other dead in the eye.

"I won't hesitate to kill you if i have to. but i'd prefer not to dirty the place im staying at, especially if i waste supplies on your leg,

“so please, don't do anything stupid."

Rude. Seriously what was his problem.

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

Chapter 3: eager much?

Notes:

Achilles thinks Patroclus is flirting, Patroclus thinks Achilles is a moron infected. WARNINGS: ATTEMPTED MURDER, INJURY, BLOOD, MEDICAL PROCEDURE(?) Also! I have literally never written anything about gore or body horror- I really have no idea how to describe wounds properly, this fic is mainly me trying to figure that stuff out. If you have any pointers or tips for when it comes to writing gore or describing injuries please let me know!

Patroclus POV

Helping the blonde up the many stairs was a struggle. The whole time he kept complaining or letting out sharp hisses of pain. Patroclus understood they were in pain but this was a massive inconvenience for him. God- why did they have to whine about this so much? They even asked stupid questions like if the elevator worked. Of course, it didn't work. NOTHING worked anymore, For Christ's sake.

After much encouragement, he finally managed to help the blonde up to the apartment. He wondered how such an incompetent man had managed to survive this long on his own. They really seemed stupid and spoilt if he was truthful.

He helped the man into the apartment and onto the sofa before turning away to close the front door. Iris had seemed hesitant to come in, staring at the blonde reproachfully but after a few minutes of lingering by the door, she scampered in and lay by the sofa. Patroclus turned back to the blonde and looked at them wearily. He didn’t particularly want to waste his valuable supplies on them but he didn't have much choice if he wanted to keep them healthy. He sighed and locked up.

He grabbed his supplies from the bedroom and hovered awkwardly for a second. He needs to check they aren't bitten. But.. if they were they might resist. He’d wait for them to fall asleep. For now, however, he would try to heal them as much as possible,

"Do you have any other injuries?" He asked as he sat in front of the sofa setting up.

"Just my leg really-"

"Okay. I can get you new trousers after this. Your ones are ruined anyway."

He stated as he began cutting away at the tattered fabric obscuring their thigh. The blonde seemed to snicker at this and he shot them an unimpressed glare. God, they were an idiot.

Once he had managed to cut away at the blood-soaked, tattered trouser leg he saw the full severity of the injury.

The skin around the injury was extremely bruised, it was swollen and dark, a collection of deep blue and green hues intermingling and overlapping each other- looking even black in some parts. For a moment he was worried about the bruising and swelling being a sign of possible tissue damage. If the muscles of his thigh were damaged that would lead to an even longer recovery time and in situations such as a zombie apocalypse that was extremely bad.

He took a shaky breath as he began examining the main part of the injury. The golden skin was traded for a raw pink colour, the outermost layer torn and ravaged, barely connected in some areas by a few thin strings of skin, the edges frayed like the threads of an old rag. A few thick scabs formed in some places while others were still coated by thick, clotted blood. The flesh around the stab wounds was raised and swollen, an angry red colour and any blood that had been leaking from it had now crusted uncomfortably around the edges.

Patroclus winced as he took in the poor condition of the skin, this was definitely gonna hurt the blonde if he wanted Patroclus to heal it efficiently. He steeled himself and began poking around the two stab wounds assessing the damage.

They were deep and jagged, and when he looked he could see a few pieces of rock where (He assumed) some sort of rock had stabbed the blonde. As he looked in he let out a huff. The muscle beneath the fascia didn't appear to be torn (luckily) but the epidermis, dermis, subcutaneous fat, and fascia had been ripped apart. He cringed as he noticed small chunks of bright yellow fat stuck to the flesh, as the rock had been removed it seemed it had pulled out small fragments of flesh and fat with it.

"..how did you get this injury" He inquired tentatively. He was trying to be polite and didn't want to somehow trigger the blonde. However, at the question Achilles just shrugged, his head lolling lazily to the side to look at him properly.

".. I fell into a piece of rubble this afternoon and it stabbed me. I couldn't really get it out properly. I think I injured myself even worse when I kept pulling at it" The man admitted quietly.

Patroclus sighed and nodded. At least it had happened today, that meant a lower chance of infection.

"To heal this I'm gonna have to sterilize your injury then start by stitching up the stab wounds."

"is that alright with you?" He asked, looking up at them from where he knelt.

The blond turned away hastily and nodded.

Iris had long since fled to Patroclus' bedroom. and for good reason too. The blonde was extremely vocal when it came to letting Patroclus know his leg hurt. So far he had managed to sterilize the wound and stitch up the stab wounds. The blonde had sobbed rather pitifully the entire time. Excruciating groans and yelps as Patroclus forced the thread through their flesh, breathy pleads for Patroclus to stop and leave him be, choked sobs as he never relented.

Patroclus could only imagine how much this hurt the other man, with no anesthesia or numbing this had to hurt like a bitch. He would have given them any sort of alcohol or drugs if he had any, yet to the misfortune of Achilles Patroclus didn't make a point of keeping any. That dumb arrogant man had been reduced to a mess of tears and ragged breaths. He now lay on the sofa, wrists tied behind him, eyes bloodshot and face tearstained. Patroclus had to tie their hands behind their back as they kept trying to claw at Patroclus involuntarily which was rather dangerous. He looked at the man who looked exhausted and felt a pang of guilt. He wasn't a cruel man and he really did wish it didn't have to be like this. But it was. ...For their own good.

Thankfully for Achilles Patroclus had stolen some needle drivers and pickups as well as some sutures. This meant at least the stitches were proper and should work.

Unfortunately for him, Patroclus had to now deal with all the torn skin.

He had pulled out a pair of medical scissors and made for Achilles leg when the man started begging for him to not do it.

"..stop- please- I don't want you to" The man pleaded, his voice hoarse and scratchy.

"please don't I cant-" Their lip was quivering as Patroclus started anyway.

"I'm sorry, I have to, I can't wrap your leg with all this skin hanging off."

The blonde started sobbing again.

"please- please ,-cant-"

"come on yes you can. ten minutes. That's all I need. You're doing so well. Please?"

The blonde didn't say anything to that just looked away sobbing.

Patroclus winced as he began.

The shredded skin was difficult to work with, especially when he tried to align the salvageable skin together. He painstakingly took his time to cut away at the nearly detached skin, aiming to get the skin as seamless as possible. He had to debride anything that was now useless much to the blonde's displeasure. After he dealt with the skin that was salvageale. He had to reposition it carefully and glue it into place, praying it wouldn't get infected.

When he finished he let the tearful blonde rest, moving to clean up the equipment and rubbish from the process.

When he came back the blonde turned his head from him and he felt that familiar sense of guilt. They looked terrible. He sat by the sofa gently applying a cold moisturizer to the skin around the wound,

"you'll have to keep this moisturized, and I'll have to check it daily." The blonde just shot him a glare and he sighed.

"look- I'm sorry okay? I don't have anything that would have numbed that for you. if i didn't though you could have died from that"

"i know that! I'm not stupid!"

Patroclus disagreed

"just- you could have been gentler" he sniffled.

Patroclus bit down the urge to argue back. He had just done a great deal for this man and they had an attitude?? They would have died without Patroclus! He shook his head and sighed. "I know im sorry. you did really well. I know it hurt. I should've been more considerate" Achilles nodded at that, still teary-eyed yet he seemed more relaxed now.

"can I wrap your leg up?"

The blond just mumbled a yes and he started.

He wrapped the other thigh in gauze and then bandaged it before getting up. He returned with a pair of joggers he found in the previous apartment owner's closet and helped the man into them. After that, he untied their hands and helped them get comfortable on the other sofa opposite the old, bloodied one. They still seemed pissed off so for now he tried to be nice. Even if he felt they didn't deserve it. It was almost like looking after a child, he rolled his eyes and approached the man. He sat beside them and handed them a bowl of food. It wasn't particularly nice, canned pasta in a bowl, cold. The man seemed grateful for it anyway. After eating it he asked where the bedroom was. Patroclus helped him into bed before heading to the door.

"wait- don't- can you stay? i don't want to be alone."

Patroclus raised an eyebrow as that but climbed into the other side of the bed. The blonde still looked disheveled and exhausted. It didn't take long for the blonde to fall asleep, at some point he had laid his head in the brunette's lap and Patroclus had let him. He felt bad for hurting them, even if he did think they were kind of an asshole. He stroked through their hair subconsciously.

He should check they weren't infected. Now was really the only time. He looked down at them. Their face was still flushed and those long lashes were still clumped together. They seemed so tired, exhausted. They trusted him so easily. He pitied them. He pushed them off his lap as gently as possible grabbing a knife. He had to know.

Patroclus checked their legs the best he could without waking him. All clear, no bite marks.

Next- their torso. Here he had less luck. Just above their hip was a dark angry red bite mark. His stomach dropped.

They were in the early stages of infection. It would be easier to shoot them, kinder maybe yet he tried to save his bullets for emergencies. He climbed onto their lap, straddling them as he raised the knife in his hand, the other hand tracing its fingers over the mark.

It looked fresh. he probably got bit when he was stabbed by the rubble. He sighed and looked at them with a frown. If they were infected he really wouldn't be able to get into the sanctuary that easy. without giving them something to test on he might not be able to join them. Maybe they'd kill him. Maybe he'd become the test subject.

Fuck. Maybe if he could get there sooner he'd just hand them Achilles and tell them he wasn't infected but they'd probably check, then they'd both probably be executed.

He wasted all those supplies for nothing.

Achilles POV

When he awoke it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. All he could feel was a heavyweight in his lap, which rather hurt his thigh truth be told. He was about to yell at whatever was on him- maybe it was the dog until his eyes adjusted and locked on a pair of deep brown ones, suddenly the pain in his leg seemed stupid. Who cares about his leg?

Did he think Patroclus was kind of a prick? yes. He had hurt Achilles a lot but he found himself caring about that a lot less now the man was sitting on his lap. Gods, what had he done to deserve such an angel? So pretty. Besides, he had never really been a masochist but don't knock it till you try it right? He reached up with a teasing smirk to trace along their jaw with idle fingers. He knew the other man couldn't resist him, obviously. He was a little confused why they had waited until he was asleep- or why it took them so long but better late than never I guess. His skin was so soft, and those pretty lips had parted in surprise.

A laugh bubbled up from his throat as he beamed at the man. They looked so confused, and so, so pretty. So handsome. He wondered why they were confused. Obviously, they thought Achilles was out of their league- that definitely was the only reason. Well lucky for them Achilles had developed a newfound appreciation for gorgeous brunettes with soft eyes. Not to mention a newfound obsession with their body. He wondered if they were in some sort of combat sport before, maybe boxing.

He looked down at his stomach when he felt nails grazing his skin. Eager much? he thought to himself a little smugly. It was only then he noticed they were grazing along the bite mark.

Great, so he wasn't flirting with Achilles he was trying to kill him. He looked up, eyes wide when he saw the man slamming his hand down, sharp knife in his grasp,

He caught their wrist with a stream of startled curses. He managed to knock them away, rolling from them, stumbling through the darkness on his faulty leg.

Patroclus POV

He watched them stumble away and out the room before chasing them. He caught them in the living room, shoving them onto the ground, kneeling above them raising his knife in a second attempt. The man writhed beneath him and shouted a mix of insults at him.

"I'm immune! For fucks sake- I'm immune you fucking psycho!"

Patroclus paused at that, knife faltering.

"how do you know?"

"i was bitten at the start. can you get off, ? I'll show you"

Hesitantly he got up and waited for them to show him the old bite mark. The scowling blonde lifted his shirt to reveal his back, an old, faint purple bite mark on his shoulder. He stepped away still not entirely sure whether or not to trust the man.

If it turned out the man was lying- in a few days he would notice behavioral changes, and when he did notice said changes he wouldn't hesitate to kill him. He let it go for now, If they were an immune he would get into the sanctuary. He let out a soft huff and dropped his knife.

"...sorry"

Slightly ruffled, the man muttered sarcastically "didn't realize you were such a sadist."

He felt his cheeks grow a little hot at the accusation. What the fuck? he was not a sadist, and he was not into the blond. god. He just turned away huffily and stormed back to the room.

The blonde looked over at that and rolled his eyes.

Chapter 4: murder kink?

Notes:

Sorry for disappearing for a week-! I took a small break so I could focus on working on my other fic about these two. I'm a sucker for Highschool AU's and im in the middle of one of the main character arcs right now! Achilles still down bad for a man he thinks has a murder kink. Patroclus is trying to be nice (finding it extremely hard) Anyway small chapter because im tired and trying to finish a chapter for my other fic tonight

PATROCLUS POV

When morning came the air was very tense. Attempted murder tends to have that effect on people and it certainly had that effect on Achilles.

Patroclus was sick of it, part of him was tempted to actually murder them a few times. The sweet promise of the sanctuary helped him refrain from doing so. So far he had untied the man, made him breakfast, given them new clothes and even a small knife- they should be grateful. Instead, they spent their time huffing and puffing, pouting and complaining about literally everything.

He knew would be so much easier to complete his plan if he befriended them but gods above it all they were irritating. They were so... immature. They would barely respond unless it was some form of complaint, they turned their nose up to everything he did and they seemed so genuinely hurt when Patroclus told them he didn't like them. Well- that sounds mean out of context. It really wasn't mean. Achilles had said something about how he didn't like the colour of the top Patroclus gave him against his skin tone and then looked to Patroclus expectantly as if this was some obscure test. When Patroclus didn't pander to them or reassure them and instead responded with an offhand 'I don't like you' Achilles had bittered by a considerable amount. It seems he had failed their little test.

Something about this boy was hard to figure out.

They seemed so sensitive and pouty about pretty much everything yet before the apocalypse when they frequented the media they always seemed so nonchalant. He never would have guessed they would be so bratty about everything. Although isn't a nepo baby bound to be bratty? I mean- not like this surely, they didn't demand things from him just seemed rather keen for his attention and so bitter when Patroclus showed any form of disinterest. He decided they must be some kind of deprived attention whore at best.

Even so he had so many questions about their behaviour. It's like they were more offended he didn't like them than the fact he tried to kill them? They had only really gotten snappy and irritable after he said he didn't like them, before that, he was just in a strop.

He took a deep breath as he sorted through supplies.

"Achilles?"

The blonde narrowed his eyes at him from where he was lounging on the sofa.

"theres-"

He grimaced trying to figure out what they wanted to hear.

"Theres some shirts here you might like. They're not really you're size since I got them for myself but they're all new. You can see if you prefer the colours of them if you want"

They raised a skeptical eyebrow

"but the colour you're wearing is nice."

They gave him a strange sort of smile as they got up and hobbled over. It seems he's made partial amends. Are compliments all he needs to earn their approval?

He grabbed them by their waist as they nearly tripped while attempting to sit beside him. They gave him a strange look as they managed to sit. He squeezed their waist out of habit before tapping their thigh

"you should try not to put too much pressure on this, i'm gonna find you some sort of crutch if i can but..-"

"hospital..?"

"well that would be ideal but-" Thoughts of those half-turned children and babies residing in abandoned hospitals made him nauseous.

"there's too much uhm.."

"its just not great there." He mumbled offhandedly and Achilles eyes seemed to soften slightly. He hated that.

As if he could tell the other was uncomfortable Achilles changed the topic for them.

" do you want to check my leg now? you said you needed to daily"

"yeah, okay then, do you mind resting your thigh in my lap so i can look properly? And not daily, only for the first week so i can make sure it's not getting infected. also you need to pull your trousers down so i can see"

Achilles raised his eyebrow with a faint smirk

"not like that" he scowled.

Achilles discarded his trousers gingerly seeming slightly smug. He understood why they were smug- they had amazing legs. So unfair. He wish he could say the same. nonetheless, that was not what he should be thinking about. He peeled back their bandages and assessed the damage.

"Your stitches look good... we should re-moisturize and re-wrap your leg but that's all, can I?"

Achilles nodded when Patroclus gestured towards the thick paste he used to moisturize their leg.

God.

He almost forgot how annoying they were. When he tried to spread the paste across the rough skin they let out pathetic little groans and whimpers. He was trying to be gentle- he really was, and he understood their skin was still very raw and tender, but until the skin adjusted and thickened there wasn't much he could do.

"stop! your- stop prodding at it"

Achilles would snap, his eyes watering.

Patroclus resisted the urge to actually jab their leg and continued in his gentle smearing of the paste.

"Im trying to be careful and gentle."

"Were you trying to be gentle when you took a knife to me?"

Patroclus grimaced at that.

"fair. but at the same time i thought you were an infected. and you were really weirding me out."

"weirding you out?"

"you were getting all giggly and kept touching my jaw for some reason."

"I thought you fancied me"

"..excuse me?"

"is this me finding out you dont?"

"stop talking."

"that's not a no..?"

Patroclus just rolled his eyes. This was not appropriate talk between a doctor/patient or capture/bait.

"are you bisexual or something" Achilles pressed.

Patroclus was trying not to snap, he really was. But Achilles must be extremely stupid if he thought Patroclus was going to come out. First of all, it would only feed into their weird narrative of Patroclus having a crush on Achilles, second of all Achilles was probably straight. I mean- having a crush on Achilles wouldn't be bad if they met under different circumstances, they were definitely his type- he just didn't have time for romance or one night stands anymore.

"Are you?" He muttered offhandedly, not really caring about the answer- instead just focusing on re-wrapping their leg.

"yes, interested?"

He looked up at them confused. He never knew that,

"no. why would i care?" He asked as if challenging them.

The blonde just laughed as they pulled their trousers back up.

"well for someone so 'disinterested' you definitely got me out of my pants very fast. You even chased me with a knife- which might be some weird kink?"

Patroclus raised an unimpressed eyebrow

"hey- im not bashing it! im down for knives and ropes and whatever. I'll let you practice your murder kink, its endearing if i try hard enough-"

"you think my supposed murder kink is endearing?"

"no but your eagerness is! im very flattered you took the first opportunity to-"

That was enough. he was far too tired for this shit.

He got up, his hand knocking against their head as they passed.

"get ready, i need to go scavenging for stuff."

Chapter 5: soulmates! (or lack there of)

Notes:

If you see typos or bad grammar no you didn't and i dont wanna hear about it either!! my flight tomorrow is at like three am so im posting it now! enjoy!! anyway spent a few hours extra since my chapters on all of my fics have been really short. Im trying to update both of them at least once a week I swear. kind of want to start a third one or do a series of just like one shots, so i might be throwing a third into the mix lmao.

ACHILLES POV

They had set off to go scavenging around midday. The cold autumn sun was still out bathing everything in bright white light and the winds weren't too bad.

Achilles was currently limping after Patroclus

He had never expected himself to be the one desperately following someone else like this- zombie apocalypse or not- And really he shouldn't be following them all things considered. The man was sarcastic, rude and an attempted murderer. Maybe the murder thing should put him off but he found it strangely enticing. No one had ever surprised them so much and he found himself oddly grateful for it. This man was unpredictable and funny and gods so beautiful. No one had captured his eye like this before, platonic or not and he was almost 100% sure no one would ever capture his eye like this again. You might even go as far to say Achilles considered Patroclus to be his weird, fucked up soulmate who he was not giving up on any time soon. Obviously, he had no idea if they were soulmates, if he was even their type, and if they even liked men but he also coudn't prove that he wasn't their soulmate, wasn't their exact type and that they weren't into men. With all of that considered, he had decided to be an optimist and declare them his soulmate OR his latest little project at the bare minimum.

And maybe desperately following behind the brunette wasn't so bad when you take the fact he was BEHIND him into account and had a rather nice view.

An extremely nice view. Gods he was even a little jealous. That just wasn't fair.

He knew that if he wanted to somehow romance this brash slightly unfriendly man he would have to get to know them, understand them. He wanted to understand them. So bad, so unbelievably bad. He wanted to know everything about them there was to know. Maybe it was a little early to be thinking things like that but he couldn't find it in himself to pretend to care.

He wanted to know their birthday, their favourite foods, what makes a person attractive to them, what books do they read where are they from, what are their hobbies, what is their heart rate, what their skin feels like, what spots make them weak.

He had to take a breath, he would find that out soon. He just had to be patient, he knew he could crack them eventually. He just needed time.

They looked so lost in thought and torn most the time he was so confused why. He couldn't think what they might be thinking so hard about. surely nothing was so perplexing they had to think about constantly. Were they thinking about him? Stupidly he felt his heart speed up a little at that thought and his cheeks heat up. Oh gods if they were thinking about him! He shook his head, he needed to focus.

Patroclus wanted to take him to a mall, there would be plenty of chances to befriend them.

For now, he trudged along behind them simply enjoying his view, trying not to get to excited by this all.

So far he had been unsuccessful.

They had arrived at the mall and passed through a few shops the brunette liked and nothing. He felt strangely nervous trying to talk to them. He felt so stupid. He was too good to be true.

Just a few questions and surely some sort of conversation will take..

"How come you ended up in this city?"

He watched as they moved between racks and displays of clothes with bated breath. The shop was spacious and silent, it would be eeiry if he wasn't alone. He couldn't say he particularly liked the clothes either. They were sensible and made strictly for purpose and durability, not fashion. How boring. They ranged from beiges and greens to deep blues. No bright unnatural colours. Even more boring. In times like these he severely missed his closet, what he wouldn't give for his expensive silks and custom outfits.

"...hm?" The brunette seemed distracted by the display of trousers in front of him. what a hard choice, beige or slightly darker beiges. Great they weren't even paying attention to him, he sighed feeling a little agitated now.

"how come you ended up in this city?, are you from here, were you visiting?" He tried again, trying to sound off handed and bored.

"no. At the start of the apocalypse i was in Connecticut."

"why?" He had been to Connecticut. He had done a concert there when he was 17.

"I went to school there, Yale school of medicine."

He remembered them saying something about being in med school. They must be smart, he liked that. A satisfied smile found its way upon his face. They seemed to be more attentive to his words now.

"oh, so you're one of those smart guys huh?" He teased with an easy smile.

He smiled a little bashfully "Well i'd certainly like to think so"

Their smile was beautiful, shy and modest. He would like to make them smile more. He wondered for a second what sort of things they liked. Could he please them through writing with carefully crafted poems and letters? Maybe they enjoyed being sung to or played for, if they had a guitar he was sure he could ease a smile out of them. Maybe they enjoyed being challenged. He was sure he could do that too- though he wasn't sure they would win if he did. How did their past lovers convince them? He knew none of them were as good as he was. He would just have to keep trying- he knew he had to have them at some point.

"Wouldn't we all?"

"would you?" They asked as if testing them.

"I'm smarter then you think i am. then the media thought i was."

"i bet"

He couldn't tell if that was sarcastic, he gave them an unimpressed look but they just turned back to examining the store's stock. They were filing through a collection of shirts now, occasionally shoving one in his satchel.

"..why medicine?"

He wanted to hear more about them.

The man looked at him hesitantly as if contemplating whether or not to answer

"..my da- mentor, Chiron, got me into it." they shrugged.

He did'nt think they were telling the truth though he knew better than to press. Being around powerful men who were quick to lose their temper when he was younger taught him when and where to press for more information.

"Hm. Well it's an impressive field to go into. You must've worked hard" He was attempting to be flattering though it seemed to of fallen on deaf ears as the man ignored that.

That annoyed him. there was no need for them to be rude.

He watched them exit the store before trailing after them. On his leg it was hard to keep up. He saw Patroclus turn and look for him, halting when they realized they were going too fast. Once he caught up he tried to strike up a conversation again.

"So what happened to your family-"

"did you go to school?" They cut him off.

He hated being interrupted but at least they were making some form of effort now.

"No. I would have liked to go though."

"what for?" They had started walking down through the deserted hallway of the mall.

"music maybe? i would have liked to get to study it."

"didn't you make music,?"

"yes but i always preferred the nomós, or any other traditional music. I always thought it was elegant. it would have been a privilege to study."

"why didn't you study it?"

"my mother didn't want me to. She wanted to focus on building my music career and athletics-"

"yeah well, you definitely built yourself a reputation" they smirked

"what?"

He really hoped they weren't referencing what he thought they were. While celebrity meltdowns were common and often entertaining for the viewers his own meltdowns made him sick to his stomach. A lot of the things that happened to famous people- especially young ones set them up for failure the older they got, Meltdowns, Exposure, Scandals- It was humiliating and derogatory for someone to bring that up.

His hurt must have shown on their face.

"sorry- i shouldn't of said that. That wasn't your fault"

He didn't respond just looked away. How humiliating, even in this new life of blood and death his breakdowns and scandals were still well remembered. The media was always a cruel thing, they worked to present him as some untouchable object of desire, ever since he was young and took pleasure in shaming him as publicly as possible whenever he messed up that image. Found drunk or high? They would plaster pictures everywhere and talk about how he was falling off- or maybe paint him as some type of desperate slut- whatever they felt like. That only fed into the abnormal amount of adults who seemed to want him. That sort of content of him being vulnerable and stupid brought lots of unwanted attention to all the wrong things from all the wrong 'fans'. This sort of stuff would not have bothered him anymore if it happened now but at sixteen that sort of publicity scared him and it still upset him remembering those old articles.

The tiles of the mall floor were white with flecks of brown. They clacked against their shoes and rang out into the open air. The air was oddly warm in here. He could hear the man next to hims breaths and could feel their pitiful eyes on him.

"Were you dating anyone?"

He didn't really want to talk anymore.

"No. I had a publicity girlfriend, Deidamia, she was just to build my reputation up." He muttered a little bitterly.

"did you?"

"No. I hadn't dated anyone for a few months. The last boy I dated was a Greek exchange student. I didn't like him though"

"ah."

"didn't you have a kid-?"

"I'd rather not discuss that"

"okay. sorry"

"So you are into men?

"yes, well done Sherlock"

"whats your type then huh?"

They stared at him in silence for a few minutes as they walked. "don't.. don't worry about that"

He raised an eyebrow. "what, don't tell me you're into blondes or something?"

"why, would that scare you off?" they asked with An eyeroll.

"well considering i thought the fact you had a murder kink and i still wasn't scared off, i doubt the idea that i might be a little like your type would scare me off."

This earned a dry-sounding laugh from the man, he liked the sound of their laughter, it was unapologetic and unsuspectingly soft for someone so unfriendly.

"i didn't expect you to be so forward. even if you're just bored and lonely"

"you just kind of seem interesting i guess."

"is that your type then, interesting?"

"well for the first time, you're not falling to my feet and fawning over me like pretty much everyone else I've met. You even tried to stab me! you're very interesting"

The man groaned at that. "I doubt you should decide who is and isn't attractive based on how much they dislike you."

"well it's not a problem- i think i'm growing on you"

The brunette glanced at him and that and hurriedly looked away.

"this store has good knives. aand you're not growing on me. i just find you a lot more tolerable when your not crying and bitching at me"

"I like you a lot better when your not trying to kill me" He scowled.

"to-may-to, -to-mah-to"

He couldn't say he really enjoyed this trip out but he did enjoy the casual conversations they had the majority of the day.

They had ended up spending about four hours at the mall discussing all sorts of things.

Patroclus talked about his father and so on while Achilles explained all his music and companies and so on. Maybe it was a little self centered but Patroclus was asking and who was he to deny what might possibly be the most stunning man in the world?

Patroclus had apologized for not finding him some sort of crutch/walking stick and he had insisted it was fine. He tried to contain his bubbling excitement when he had spotted one outside by some corpse. Would Patroclus be happy he found one? probably!

He nodded along mindlessly to what they were saying as he walked from the mall exit to the curb to grab the crutch.

"Patroclus! look-" He yelled out with a grin. The brunette paused in his rambling looking at him from where Achilles had ran over to the curb, giving him a small smile that quickly morphed into a grimace. Was there something wrong with his hair? Why on earth was he staring at him like that-

That was answered rather quick.

The brunette had dashed forward promptly knocking him sideways as something rather large and noisy tackled them,

His head smacked against the curb as he rolled from the pavement. Was it bleeding? He had no idea but shit it hurt- he could feel it throbbing with a dull ache and he gingerly prodded at his scalp feeling for any sticky wetness. He didn't find any, he then felt the pain in his leg and gritted his teeth- Maybe he wasn't his soulmate, fucking asshole. He looked up to see the brunette on top of something vaguely human, repeatedly stabbing it in the forehead multiple times.

oh.

As gross as it sounds there was something extremely appealing about murder right now. Was it even murder if it was an infected? Possibly but who cares, nothing had made him feel so excited and slightly turned on in years. The way they were positioned, their ragged breaths, the brute force of their stabs- gods it was enough to make him swoon. Seriously being that hot while stabbing the everloving shit out of something shouldn't be allowed.

They looked over at the blonde after taking a few tired breaths.

He tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear and laughed slightly breathly, they were definitely the only person in the world he would ever need this bad. Jesus christ this man was so gorgeous.

PATROCLUS POV

Just when he had begun to admittedly like this strange blonde man a little more they proved him wrong.

Not only had they almost gotten themselves eaten by a particularly vile, feral zombie they had the nerve to laugh afterwards.

Here he was risking his life for them and protecting them and they were sat by the curb looking at him with starry eyes and an airy laugh.

The way they panted in between laughs (probably from pain) was almost girlish and a little too breathy.

Part of him suspected this had nothing to do with pain and more the fact the man was just horrendously stupid and a little pleased with the fact Patroclus just risked his life for them.

Gods they were ignorant. When he had decided to use them as bait for his plan to get to the sanctuary he had not realized he would have to fight for this seemingly incompetent man.

He helped them up fussing over their head in an agitated manner before deciding they would live.

"Stupid, stupid man." He scowled as he scolded them as he snatched the crutch from the floor and shoved it into their chest but the blonde only laughed.

At least it wouldn't be hard to deceive them when he did tell them about the sanctuary.

He almost hated them. Stupid, forward, ignorant men were not the type he usually liked and he couldn't see himself liking them any time soon.

ACHILLES POV

He had decided, this man was 100% his soulmate, whether they liked it or not was irrelevant, he didn't want anyone but them and would not stop until he got what he wanted.

SO THATS ALL I HAVE RIGHT NOW- I DONT PLAN ON POSTING CHAPTERS HERE UNLESS REQUESTED SO U CAN FIND THIS ON MY AO3!! (cowsonabus)

3 notes · View notes

cowsonabus · 9 months ago

Text

Patrochilles fanfic 'Covet'

-So far there's 16 chapters (40,000 words) , ongoing

-This was my first fanfic in years so the writing improves a lot further into the story!

-First two chapters + summary down below:)

-Read the rest on AO3 at cowsonabus

Summary:

When Patroclus and Achilles are reunited as strangers in high school, years after being separated as childhood ...somethings, they must navigate their complex relationship and find a way to rebuild the bond they once shared. Along the way, they must face their unresolved feelings, overcome their history, and struggle to hide their undeniable connection. They will experience grief and love and learn what having a first love really means along the way.

Chapter 1: Atelophobia- the fear of imperfection

September 2023

Patroclus sat in the car being driven by one of his father's staff as it winded down long roads through the city, taking him to his new boarding school. The leather seats were uncomfortably cold against his skin and the car had a sickeningly strong scent of air freshener. He huffed slightly as he took in the cool weather outside, eyes flicking down to his hands and then back up to the window.

September, Patroclus thought, an awful time of year. 'The month of change' his mother had called it, the death of summer transitioning into the icy embrace of winter, hazy remnants of soothing sun and welcoming waters intermingling with the freezing sheets of rain and bitter winds winter brought.

While it could be lazy and warm, as trees drop their leaves and the air turns colder, he couldn't stand it. September meant having to endure harsher weather, having to return to the reality that was his life, having to go back to school.

school

The word had always left a bitter taste in Patroclus' mouth. It wasn't so much the concept of school or the workload that made him so sour, it was all the ways school proved him to be as inferior as his father said he was. School, where he had little people he could call friends. School, where his grades were good- but not good enough. School, where he was never bad, but not great. Always good, never great.

Maybe, it was the petty sort of envy school inspired in him that made him so averse to others his age. Maybe it was the fact he knew in an instant his father would trade sons with many of the parents at his old school if he could.

At school, there was a select group of people who seemed to despise Patroclus. They whispered sometimes about how he had too much of his 'simple' mother in him, How his father must be so disappointed. He knew they made sure to whisper just loud enough for Patroclus to hear, in hopes of provoking him, but he never rose to the bait, instead letting his anger and humiliation simmer down until all he felt was cold, harsh rejection.

He used to feel humiliated at how other people seemed to disregard him, the feeling of sickness bubbling up in his throat as his stomach ached, how his skin felt hot and prickly all of a sudden as it was made apparent he was nothing more than a burden to them. He felt that familiar dull ache of anxiety in his heart as he thought about the prospect of moving to his new school, would it be the same? would there be another group of people set on tormenting him? His father's cold voice replayed in his mind, telling him how he was a regret to anyone who met him. Patroclus closed his eyes taking a deep breath. No, he thought. This was a fresh start, people would not torment him. As far as he was aware, no one at his new school would have any reason to pick on him.

The anxious boy opened his eyes again, in hopes of looking for a distraction, he looked to his phone numbly picking it up, and he opened Snapchat not bothering to answer any messages. After the incident, he had been sent awful words and photos. He swiped to the 'memories' section and clicked on the small banner that said 'a year ago today'. Pictures of his fifteenth birthday popped up, on that day he had spent the night at a friend's house with two other people. he frowned. That year he had his birthday 'party' in September instead of October when his actual birthday was. When his father had found out the sleepover was for his birthday he sneered at him and yelled at the boy for not being honest about why he was sleeping over. His father usually did something for his birthday, so other people would continue to believe he was a good father. That man had a reputation to keep up, and he would force Patroclus to smile for photos and go out to restaurants so he could upkeep that reputation. That year his father didn't force him out for his birthday, that year during Patroclus' birthday he was on a business trip.

He put his phone back down thinking of his father. He wondered what he might be doing right now. He picked at his nails silently.

From a young age, his father had made his disappointment clear to Patroclus.

His father had beaten him often as a child over small mishaps and mistakes and berated him again and again whenever he did something 'dishonorable', like getting a B instead of an A on a test. He knew his father was cruel and unreasonable, though sometimes he still craved his approval or comfort. It was strange he thought, how he sometimes still yearned for the hands that hit him over and over to comfort him. He knew he shouldn't feel like that and most of the time he didn't, though now and then all he wanted was for his father to take pity on him and comfort him for a small while.

He knew that would never happen though.

He had learned better than to expect his father to ever say kind words. His father seemed to enjoy saying cruel words to him just to watch him afterwards. He always seemed displeased when Patroclus stood still and did nothing, said it made him weak. His father's words had seeped in and taken root within his mind, they replayed in that cold indifferent voice whenever he messed up. His father was not much of a father. More of an owner. He was not much of a son, merely an asset, a placeholder. He doubted he would ever be called a son again. Not after what he did. Not after he destroyed his fathers reputation.

His breath quickened slightly as he thought of the incident.

A month ago, maybe, Patroclus had been sat by the beach, watching the waves roll in and out, trying and failing, to soothe his tired mind. It was a spot he had retreated to often as a boy with his mother. Philomena was her name. She used to take great pleasure in sitting on the beach wall with her son underneath some large trees, watching the waves. she would sit and draw, or collect seashells, would sit and tell stories while fussing over her son fondly. OR, his favorite, when she would bring her lyre and play for him, These were Patroclus' favorite memories. His father had always disregarded his mother's musical talent, saying it was nonsense and an earache, though Patroclus had loved it. The way her nimble fingers tugged and pulled on the lyre strings with calculated moves as she sang gently to the boy, in her soft voice. His mother had died when he was six. People always said she was simple- childlike even. though all he remembered of her was how he had always seen her as beautiful and kind. He looked a lot like his mother, with rich, dark sable skin, curious coffee-coloured eyes, his soft dark curls that seemed to add to his quality of kindness. The curve of his lips and the gentle slope of his nose were his mother's. He loved that he looked like his mother as if he was living for her, maybe that's why his father hated him so much. Maybe the fact he looked like his mother spurred on the hatred Menoetius held for his only son. The memories of his mother is what drew him back to this specific spot, he had a terrible day and sought the comfort of his memories the beach held. He didn't know how long he had sat at that beach wall that day, it must have been at least an hour though. He had been rudely tugged by the collar of his shirt by an older kid, one who seemed to enjoy teasing and harassing Patroclus. Patroclus didn't remember much of what happened after that. all he remembered was that Cysonymus had been arguing with him, demanding he hand over a fine silver bracelet Patroclus wore on his wrist- it was his mother's, a beautiful piece of jewelry. Of course, Patroclus had refused to hand it over and in anger pushed the boy, what he didn't know was that the boy would stumble and fall, his head promptly smacking against a rock, his skull shattering as flecks of blood and flesh splattered themselves to every surface. He remembered clearly what the boy had looked like in death, he gagged slightly each time he thought of it. He was not violent by nature. it had destroyed him that he did that over a bracelet. He felt pathetic and cruel. He felt like his father.

He stiffened as the memory repeated in his head.

That night his father had raged like never before, beating him within an inch of his life screaming himself hoarse.'How could Patroclus be so stupid and damage his fathers reputation like that?' was mostly what Menoetius was pissed about. Of course, he did not care about the boy Patroclus had killed, or how Patroclus felt, no- he only cared for his reputation, his wealth, his status. Anger prickled beneath his skin.

In, Out, In and then out,

Deep breaths as memories of the killing flickered in his mind.

in out in out.

Deep breaths as he thought of how he was being sent away without a second thought.

in out in out in out in-

"Sir we are about half an hour from your destination"

He blinked. The voice seemed distant and quiet, the words didn't seem to make sense.

"pardon?"

"Half an hour until we reach your new school, sir"

Ah. James, one of his fathers staff, a chauffeur.

Patroclus had always liked the man. James was old and weathered, yet he had always been so kind and polite to Patrcolus, probably since Menoetius was Patroclus's father, yet he liked to believe it went a little beyond that. Most of his father's staff were like this, always speaking soothing words to Patroclus, sneaking him treats, looking out for him when possible, caring and comforting him after particularly trying days. It stung a little to think how his staff were more of a parent to him than his actual father.

"..okay. Thank you, James"

It was silent after that.

Thoughts of his new boarding school raced in his mind. His father's friend Peleus Pelides, one of the richest men in the country co-owned the school, sponsoring it constantly, he had offered Patroclus a spot after hearing about the incident. Patroclus wasn't sure how to feel about that.

He had always found Peleus a strange man. He was proud and confident but not in a way that was conceited or vain. He was kind and encouraging yet not a pushover. He often spent time visiting Patroclus childhood home during summers or holidays when passing through the area. He was always so kind and normal to Patroclus it was weird. He did not look at Patroclus with anger or disappointment, nor did he appear reluctant or avoidant of him. He had always spoken greatly to Patroclus, laughed heartily at his weak attempts at jokes, smiling contently as Patroclus answered his questions. He often thought that was what a dad should be. He remembered the mans tan skin and blonde hair, though his face was blurry in Patroclus mind. It baffled Patroclus that someone like that would be friends with his father. Then there was Peleus son. His son also went to this school. His son who wanted to see Patroclus when he got there. He knew he would want to see him because even as children he remembered how Achilles had been curious about everything.

He knew if he gave the other a chance they would not stop asking questions, his headache intensified with that thought.

They had never quite been friends, but never quite rivals either. Instead, they had always had a weird half-established relationship of teasing, harsh jabs, and honeyed words; a weird relationship of chasing and running from one another. Growing up he had always felt a deep irritation towards the boy. He hated the way they smiled, and the fact they had one of those voices you just had to stop and listen to. He hates how the boy had always been so athletic, so talented in the arts too. He hated how the boy never lied and always spoke his mind. He hated how they walked and seemed to do everything with a sense of effortlessness and gracefulness. Growing up he always felt agitated at how the boy just had to be perfect, serving as another unwelcome reminder that Patroclus was inferior. At the same time, he remembered how Achilles always seemed to follow him around. he never understood why and felt it peculiar that someone so perfect wanted to be around him. Achilles would ask Patroclus questions upon questions, clinging onto his every word. Achilles would demand that Patroclus would hang out with him, make him take them to the beach, go cycling, take him to the towns, listen to him retell stories of his childhood. More often than not Patroclus refused yet the other asked and asked until he settled into an annoyed submission, complying and doing what the other boy wished him to. Many days and nights of Achilles trying to figure Patroclus out, enjoying the puzzle of Patroclus' mind. He sighed, looking up as the car pulled into the long driveway that led to the school. He wondered for a moment if Achilles was still beautiful, still elegant, and divine as if crafted by the gods specifically to remind everyone else how far they stray from true perfection. He dismissed that thought. Achilles was not beautiful he was annoying.

On some level, Patroclus thinks that one of the many reasons he could never seem to properly get along with Achilles is that he admired him too much. He knew the other was perfect, and god did it hurt. He recalled how his father scathingly whispered into his ear once how Achilles was what a son should be, not some weak, shy boy like himself.

The car slowed down, coming to a halt in the school driveway.

James opened the door for him. He got out standing on the steps. James said something he didnt quite catch giving Patroclus arm a comforting squeeze. He stumbled slightly as he walked up the steps, his previous feelings of embarrassment igniting again.

in out in out in out.

The school was beautiful, like a palace almost, with large marble pillars and painfully detailed carvings, grand wooden doors and arches, stunning decorations and gardens. He wondered how much it cost to send someone here. Probably a lot. He got lost in his thoughts, tenderly entering the building with James standing unsure of himself in the lobby. Gleaming tiled floors, a gigantic wooden spiral staircase to the second floor- like something from a Disney film. marble statues and beautiful paintings and tapestries. Patroclus hadn't ever been somewhere so pretty. He looked at every finely detailed object, the carving in the wood and marble, the brush strokes in each painting. He knew if anyone had ever bought him something so gorgeous he would of cherished it and kept it forever. A pretty woman approached them from an office across the large room, her long hair gently swaying in sync with her hips. She had a stern face but a warm smile. She held up a hand in greeting.

"This must be Patroclus, correct?" she called out in a silky voice.

James said something to the woman that Patrcolus didn't quite catch, before turning and heading out. He stood staring at the woman, stammering out a greeting as he shook her hand. She smelt of an overpowering scent of roses, it made his headache twinge uncomfortably. She was dressed in a tight black pencil skirt, sheer tights, heels, a dark blue button-down, and a black blazer. The clothes fit her nicely he thought. The dark blue complimented her sable skin well.

James arrived back after a few awkward minutes of small talk, carrying two suitcases, the third one being brought in by another man, a gardener maybe.

After handing the bags over to some other men once he had entered the lobby again James chatted with the woman for a while about stuff that just didn't seem to interest Patroclus, while they conversed he stood silently, picking at the hem of his jumper.

James turned to Patroclus saying goodbye, before drawing him in for a hug, he clutched at the man a little desperately, he wanted nothing more than to turn and run from the school. James ran a soothing hand up and down his back before pulling away and handing him a small piece of paper with a phone number.

"Before I have to leave here is a number, you call this if you want to speak to me or any of the other house staff, the maids, nannies, gardeners, butlers- you name it, alright? your father doesn't know about this so don't worry yourself over it. You be good kid okay?"

He nodded, pocketing the paper before saying a final goodbye to James. He didn't think he would call that number. But the gesture was sweet and brought a small sense of comfort. He watched James exit through the thick wooden doors glancing at his bags which had been collected by some more men once brought in, they were being carried up the spiral stairs and heading through a long corridor until out of sight to what he supposed must eventually be his dorm.

The woman was stood there eyes still fixed on Patrcolus, Her voice was sharp and strict yet it didn't seem mean.

"My name is Mrs Vasileiou, I work in the office, Mr Pelides asked me specifically to discuss everything with you, and to bring you to him to talk before you settle in. Please follow me to Mr Pelides' office, I will be waiting outside for when you two are done discussing everything."

And without waiting for Patroclus to reply she set off walking at a brisk pace, leaving Patroclus to trail behind her nervously, The echo of their footsteps ringing out.

Chapter 2: Nepenthe- something that can make you forget your grief or suffering.

September 6th 2023

Patroclus followed the woman across the lobby to Peleus office. His stomach twisting uncomfortably at the thought of talking to Peleus. He was not sure if anyone knew why he had been sent away- If Peleus had told them, gods, he hoped not. Being stereotyped as a cold-blooded killer is not what the brunette needed. Back In his home city, Opus, all those in his school had sent him hate mail, spammed his socials and all his friends had cut him off. He had been demonized by local people and made unwelcome by almost everyone in the higher ranks of the society of Opus. Of course, his father paid newspapers and other news outlets to keep it quiet and paid the people who knew what really happened to keep their mouths shut. But amidst the uncertainty of what went down between Patroclus and Clysonymus people had made up rumors of Patroclus brutally murdering the other boy, painted him as some cruel delinquent.

He took a deep breath once they reached the grand wooden door with the name 'Mr Pelides' on it. He twisted the golden door knob as Mrs Vasileiou nudged his back encouragingly.

The fifteen-year-old stepped into the room closing the large wooden door carefully, examining the room once he had entered fully. The office had tall ceilings with windows that stretched from top to bottom, each window was impeccably clear and revealed views of the school grounds. The school grounds were made up of pristine pavements, long rolling fields, and carefully selected decorations. One of the many decorations that caught his eye was a fountain with a statue of the Greek goddess Athena in the middle of it, It was beautiful. The room was furnished with dark wooden furniture adorned with detailed carvings. There were thick, old books stacked neatly on a bookshelf, a few photo frames on the desk, and some expensive-looking paintings on the wall. To the far left of the office was a fireplace, and on the mantle above that were some beautiful, glass vases, made from stained glass in shades of sea blues and greens. The room had an Aura of great expense and elegance, Its beauty almost startling. The air was slightly cold in here and smelt faintly of fruits.

Once he had finished his glance around the room convinced he had taken in every detail, his eyes focused on a thick leather chair behind the wooden desk, it was turned away from the door to face the window, the top of a golden head peeking out.

He cleared his throat a little nervously.

"Mr Pelides-"

His voice was hoarse.

"I want to thank you for offering me a place at Your school. You have done me and my father a great kindness and I'm sorry we meet again in these conditions-"

He is met by loud, joyful laughter. He freezes, brows furrowing as the chair turns to face himself. His confusion is answered almost instantly. Of course, he would do this. Who else?

Achilles. He grits his teeth. The utter fool.

"There is no need to call me Mr Pelides, Patroclus, drop the formalities"

Pa-tro-clus. Achilles said his name slow and sweetly, he didn't rush through his name the way almost everyone else did. Patroclus had never liked his name, it meant 'honor of the father', something Patroclus knew never fit him well. He expected Achilles to laugh or make a joke about his name's meaning when they first met, but he never did. He only spoke the name as if it deserved to be heard as if it was something worth saying over and over and over. He always felt a drop of warmth burst beneath his skin when the other spoke his name. He knew he would listen to whatever the other said as long as they kept saying his name like that, full of joy and delight. The older boy felt a strange tug in his stomach. He felt a slight sense of relief that it was only Achilles sat in the chair not Peleus. At the same time, he felt annoyed and frustrated at the other for tricking him. Then again just the sight of Achilles agitated him.

He frowned disapprovingly at Achilles' little stunt.

Despite the clear displeasure at this little surprise painted all over the brunette's face, Achilles' expression is gleeful and ever so smug.

"Where is your father? I was told to come speak with Mr Pelides-" Achilles cuts the other boy off eagerly. He seems so pleased with himself that once again Patroclus has fallen for one of his little schemes. He always took great delight in showing off to Patroclus, perhaps he thought his plan was impressive. It certainly explained why he looked at Patroclus as if he was expecting him to say well done.

"The staff here also call me Mr Pelides, not just my father. I requested them to do so when telling you to meet me here. I was scared you'd bolt if you knew it was me requesting to see you."

Achilles is smiling at Patroclus, that same perfect slightly teasing smile he had worn often as a kid. Patroclus recalled seeing it plastered on Achilles face many times, he saw it when Achilles and Patroclus spoke, when the blonde played music, when he won a race, and so on. His smile is handsome and inviting, as it always has been. Patroclus wished he had seen it more often. Been the cause of that smile more often.

The brunette shook his head slightly as if to clear it. He sighed. Achilles was right, Patroclus would've bolted if he knew it was Achilles in Peleus' office.

"sit."

It was not a question, it was a demand. Thoughts of simply turning and leaving raced through his mind, but he felt strangely compelled to talk to the other after seeing them after so long. He sat opposite the boy across the large wooden desk. Achilles didn't say anything for a few moments, just seemed to be surveying Patroclus, his eyes tracing their face with strange focus.

"You look good."

The brunette looked up, slightly confused, and when his brown eyes met those green ones he flushed ever so slightly. The way the blond had said it, eyes focusing so intently on Patroclus made him feel a strange emotion he couldn't decipher. He paused for a moment mulling the words over in his head before scoffing. He was sure the other was teasing him. Patroclus didn't think he had changed that much at all since he was ten and last spoke to Achilles, He thought he only looked a little older and a lot taller. Nothing special. He didn't think he was ugly but certainly not good-looking enough to comment on. His dislike deepened as he took in Achilles' appearance.

So attractive, So charming.

When Patroclus first saw Achilles sitting in that chair, he did not miss how the boy's body had changed.

Achilles had grown taller, but not taller than Patroclus, and slightly more muscled. His frame was Lithe and toned, like a runner. After all, Achilles, as he remembered was an amazing athlete.

Achilles' skin was still divinely sun-kissed as it had been when he was a boy, smooth and unmarked, supple and soft looking, lightly tanned with no freckles. His blonde hair was slightly longer than the older boy remembered, it now fell slightly past his shoulder in flawless, elegant waves, not a tangle in sight. His hair was still golden with faint streaks of honey running through. He noticed how a few strands had half fallen into the other boy's face slightly. He wanted to reach out and brush them away, he didn't know how the other could stand having their hair fall like that, surely the sensation must be irritating. He looked back into the boy's eyes. Achilles' eyes were still catlike and curious, deep pools of intermingling shades of green with flecks of the finest gold swirling around. His jawline among other features had grown sharp and defined with age. There wasn't a mark upon his skin. It Pissed him off. The blond still had that boyish charm to him yet looked so undoubtedly mature. He felt an unwelcome twang of jealousy. Patroclus' own skin had a few blemishes, his features were not as well defined or pretty, and his hair had a slightly wild quality to it. Achilles surely had to be mocking him when he told Patroclus he looked good.

"Right."

Was all he managed to mutter stiffly in a hoarse, quiet tone.

Achilles cocked his head at this, as if confused. The younger boy remained silent just sitting watching Patroclus. Five minutes of Achilles staring silently, while the older boy strategically avoided eye contact passed. Patroclus could feel the tension in the air, it was thick as honey; he couldn't bare it.

"Well?" Questioned the brunette. "Why am I here? All you are doing is sitting and looking at me. Why did you summon me here?"

Patroclus spoke in an agitated voice, eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

Achilles only smiled again eyes twinkling.

"Can't I just want to look at you,? Is that so bad? Because to be perfectly honest I don't have much to say. I just wanted to see you again. It's been 5 years since we last saw each other. And you shouldn't be so short with me when I compliment you. I meant it, you have grown into your looks nicely. I mean, where are your manners? Are you not gonna compliment me back my dear Patroclus?"

He groaned at the word dear. Fucking Achilles, he thought, always so frustrating.

"I don't like you."

A beat of silence.

"You look good Achilles"

He paused.

"it's been six years since we last saw each other."

That earned a pleased smile and a quiet laugh from Achilles.

"I missed you."

Patroclus paused when those words left the mouth of the other. Was he being made fun of? His frown deepened.

Just then in one fluent, swift movement, Achilles got up deciding to climb over the desk, sitting directly in front of Patroclus' chair, leaning down, face close to Patroclus'. Patroclus instinctively pulled away looking a little puzzled.

Achilles just laughed. He didn't like Achilles laugh. It was melodic and clear like a song, with the warmth of a fire and the sweetness of sugar, yet he disliked it. He thought it loud and invasive, He didn't like that he had caused it. He just wanted to be alone now.

"Look Achilles- I'm tired I need to go-"

"No. I said I'd be your tour guide after you talk to Mrs Vasileiou. stop trying to run away Patroclus, or I might start to think you were serious when you said you didn't like me."

Patroclus let out a small huff at that, looking back up into those green eyes, "Okay,"

A thought crossed his mind and he couldn't hold back.

“Do you know why I'm here?”

Patroclus' voice was shy almost nervous as the question spilled from his lips.

“..No. But maybe you can tell me one day?”

Patroclus stared at him jaw tightening ever so slightly. Achilles did nothing but stare down at the seated boy unblinkingly.

“Alright. One day”

Achilles smiled at that and his face was like the sun. Patroclus loo

ks away uncomfortably. He got up, turning to the thick wooden doors, he only managed a few steps before a hand grabbed his shoulder. He turned about to snap at the other to leave him alone but was stunned into silence when Achilles wrapped his arms around his middle.

He stood there for a moment confused by the boy's actions, and awkwardly returned the hug, one had raised slightly higher stroking the boy's hair. He doesn't know why he did it, all he remembered was that as a kid Achilles enjoyed having his hair done or played with, he recalled how the boy asked the maids to braid his hair or brush it for him instead of doing it himself, when Patroclus had asked him why all the younger boy had said was that it felt good. Knowing that still, he found his own actions a little odd. The other was warm and smelt faintly of pomegranate, sandalwood, and faint undertones of salt and the sea. The scent is so shockingly familiar to Patroclus that all he can do is breathe a little deeper as days spent with Achilles as children flash through his mind.

As the other pulls away they stand there for a moment taking each other in. Achilles smirks.

“You won't be popular here.”

Patroclus raises an eyebrow at that.

“Sorry?”

“I said you won't be popular. You're not like everyone else here. You're different. too soft.”

Patroclus tensed up as his eyes narrowed. His mood of nostalgia vanished in an instant.

Patroclus spun on his heel and stalked out of the room. He shot an agitated glare at Achilles who followed in his wake. As soon as he left the office Patroclus was greeted by Mrs Vasileiou who smiled at the sight of the two boys, her eyes lingering a little too long on Achilles. Patroclus turned slightly to look at Achilles who had lost his pleased smile, now traded for an expression of plain indifference.

“..Mr Pelides, will you be joining Patroclus in his briefing?"

Achilles didn't even look up at the sound of the woman's voice instead turning his head lazily towards Patroclus.

“Should I?”

It throws Patroclus off that he is being asked such a question. He assumed Achilles would answer himself. Patroclus takes a moment to think and considers the question.

It took a minute for the older boy to respond to Achilles.

“No, thanks. Uhm You can wait for me if you want, or just go”

He said eyes flitting to the ground.

“..Are you sure you don't want Mr. Pelides present for the briefing? He’s your tour guide after all.”

Mrs Vasileiou asked in an innocently sweet voice.

The receptionist's eyes are still fixed on the blonde, scanning his face, gaze dropping quickly looking up and down before refocusing on his face. Patroclus raises his eyebrows slightly. He didn't understand why the woman was looking at Achilles like that. He supposed there was nothing wrong with it yet he still felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It made him feel a twinge of sickness in the pit of his stomach. However Achilles still looked indifferent, almost bored as if he didn't care.

“uhm.. quite sure,”

Patroclus said a slight edge to his voice now, His previous politeness gone.

She nodded her smile falling for a moment before returning.

"Okay then."

"Right this way Patroclus"

The woman set off, walking briskly as her heels click-clacked across the tiled floors to an office across the Lobby. He hesitated, glancing at Achilles. His previous distaste toward the boy had been replaced by a strange mix of concern and pity. He couldn't exactly place why but the interaction between Achilles and Mrs Vasileiou had left a bitter taste in his mouth. He nodded a the boy who smiled brightly at him again.

"I will wait for you, My father's office, Find me?”

Patroclus studied the other's eyes, they seemed less sure of themselves now, it was weird. He enjoyed that he could make the other who was never doubtful or insecure of himself unsure by asking him a simple question.

“Always”

Achilles nodded at that nudging the other with his elbow.

“Go away now, Seeing as you have better things to do than me-“

This eases a laugh from Patroclus and he smiles properly for the first time. The feelings of guilt, grief, and anxiety forgotten for the first time in months. He thinks that only Achilles could do that.

“I always do have better things to see to than you Achilles. Always have”

As a child, he had always had weird love-hate feelings towards Achilles, envy tainted with admiration, Familiarity tainted with reservations, and fondness tainted with dislike.

Achilles considered his words. Before settling on his own carefully selected words,

“That's right. you do, always have”

Achilles turned after that, heading back to his fathers office. Patroclus looked away. he then finally started following Mrs Vasileiou for his briefing.

-Still not entirely sure how to post on here properly lol, feel free to message me :P

#patrochilles #fanfic #fanfiction #ao3 fanfic #cowsonabus #achilles #patroclus #tsoa #first fanfic #first post #highschool au #boarding school au #teenagers #slow burn #drama #slice of life

13 notes · View notes