TROY: Companionship

Everyone knows the classic tale of Troy; Paris, Helen and love. But the unspoken relationship between two warriors was left out. Achilles and Patroclus were cousins, but that didn't stop them being lovers too…

"Ohhh. Sweet Apollo, why? Why is my cousin going to war?" Achilles yelled at the sky, tearing at his blonde locks. It was the day after the news of the upcoming war reached them. The Trojans had taken Helen, the Spartan Queen, and now all of Greece was launched into one colossal war. Achilles made his decision to go. And Patroclus had too. But why did Patroclus have to be someone Achilles loved so much?

Achilles cursed the Gods for this fate they had given him. What if he died? He couldn't bare the thought of it. He looked up from the beach at the sunset, watching the glowing horizon. Time was too short to waste, he thought, and suddenly realised what he had to do.

***

Patroclus heard the knocking on the door and rushed to answer it, dripping wet from bathing. He tied a cloth around him quickly, and looked to see who it was. Achilles stood there, panting from having run so far. Patroclus opened the door.

Achilles glanced at Patroclus' wet body and walked inside, kicking the door closed. He grasped a hand around his cousin's damp head, pulling his fingers through the tangled hair, and pressed his lips against Patroclus'. He felt Patroclus' shock, and then his passion, and he kissed back powerfully. Achilles slammed Patroclus up against the wall, receiving a moan from the younger boy, which he listened to with delight.

Patroclus tore away from Achilles' passionate advances, trembling and gasping. "W-what was that-" he began, then Achilles pressed a finger on his lips.

"Don't speak, Patroclus. Just be mine." he soothed, kissing his hands, up his arm to his bare neck. Patroclus closed his eyes, intoxicated by the shear lust Achilles displayed. He felt warm hands moving across his naked chest, and the furious kisses planted there. He leant into Achilles arms, resting amongst the nest of muscles.

Suddenly, Patroclus let the cloth covering his lower body fall to the ground, and Achilles leaned away. Patroclus looked at him, confused, shying away from the lack of contact. Achilles stroked Patroclus' soft hair, his eyes warm and caring.

"Do you feel it?" Achilles whispered.

"What?"

"The connection, the bond I have with you? The love?"

Patroclus smiled. "Yes, I feel it. I've felt it since I met you, Achilles."

Achilles breathed in Patroclus' scent, caressing his hands. "As have I. I love you, Patroclus, and I always shall. This war has forced me to accept that. Will you be my lover in this? To support and fight for me in love and war?"

"Of course. I shall fight for you as you do for me. Are we to continue to whisper pretty words into the night, or will you show me your love?" Patroclus asked, his hand stroking the thin clothes on Achilles' chest.

Achilles smiled and half-carried his lover to his chamber.

Patroclus gently untied Achilles' cloth attire, pulling it down to reveal smooth skin and bulky muscles, all part of the killer that was Achilles. Achilles pushed Patroclus down onto the soft satin sheets, kissing him fervently, both men's hands curving around the other's body, grasping it close.

Achilles put a tender hand onto Patroclus' manhood. He gasped at the touch, but then gave way to Achilles' advances, and lay on his front, Achilles positioned behind. Patroclus closed his eyes at the pain, listening only to the melody that wove their bodies together. Achilles wanted nothing more at that time, no woman, not even the exhilaration of war. Only him and his dear Patroclus.