Wavering Love
Chapter 5: You Got Me Wild
On the right of the gardens a shadowy grove of alder trees quivered and softly whispered in the fitful breeze, and on the left there stretched a boundless field. There, where the eye no longer could distinguish field from sky, a bright light glimmered. It wasn't even afternoon and already Achilles' tunic was a hot nuisance around his torso. Patroclus was catching his breath from their last exercise. "Want to do that again?" Achilles asked.
The signs of 'no' were well in Patroclus' face but he resisted all pains and sores from his body with a simple "yes." The two have been spending the past week just composing fights upon fights of battles that might never come or tricks they will never commit. "Achilles?" the boy questioned. "Yes?" he answered.
"Is it true that you are a son from a goddess?" Achilles chucked at the idea. Almost as if Patroclus really did believe in these rumors. "No, just a far fetch excuse from men who couldn't beat me." If Patroclus was disappointed from the bare truth he'd shown no signs of it; because Achilles was looking hard for any to submerge. The angel of silenced passed over the two until shattered by once again Patroclus.
"Achilles?" he asked again in that same tone he used the last. "What!" Achilles barked back. "...Nothing, just wanted to say something." This made Achilles melt into a smile and it touched Patroclus to do the same also. "Let's go on with this again." Achilles got his thick wooden sword, an upgrade from a stick, and so did Patroclus.
"Now you keep on attacking at the right which will give your enemy a good guess to watch out on that side and get you on your right. So do the same but just be more balanced on where you attack me." Patroclus nodded a 'yes' from Achilles' critique. After a deep breath from the boy their dance began again.
Patroclus lunged at Achilles' torso, causing the warrior to spin out of harm to strike at Patroclus' shoulder. He would have done so if Patroclus didn't block his blow and shove it away. They kicked up many sand clouds from their hurried steps and after every blow one made an aggravated grunt to shun off their opponent's strength. Usually it was Patroclus doing all the grunting. Their fast pace of slicing all came to a halt when their bodies were in an almost frozen position.
Patroclus was directly behind Achilles' back trying to get his sword to merely brush against the warrior's breast. Long ago Achilles' sword carelessly fumbled from his grasp and only his strength was keeping him alive. Well only for pretend. Sweat glistened over Patorclus's back while he gritted his teeth trying to overcome Achilles' strength. He might have won his first battle against Achilles but soon his attention swept from the fight to Achilles himself. In order to keep Achilles in front of him, Patroclus held Achilles tightly across his stomach. But now a small slice of his skin was what Patroclus now felt.
Achilles' tunic must have been pulled back tightly to reveal his abs under Patroclus' hand. Without the clothe covering it anymore, Achilles' skin was warmer under his fingertips. He breathed into his blonde mane, brushing his cheek across Achilles' neck. Patroclus wasn't the only one in deep thoughts of his enemy.
Achilles could feel Patroclus' pressing length against him. He felt Patroclus' sex beneath his skirt pressing against the back of this leg. A small gasp escaped his lips and began to feel a little light headed that traveled down into his stomach. Now Patroclus' grip tightens across Achilles' bare skin, laying his head down on Achilles. Their grunting and hard breathing ceased to just the breathing. It wasn't like hard labor breaths that they took, but more like they were drawing their last breath of each other.
Achilles' eyelids shuttered shut and absorbed the touch of Patoclus behind him. Just then in his mind a click popped in his head. "That's enough!" He whirled around to escape Patroclus. "You won." Glory didn't shine on his face as Patroclus planned but more of uncertainty. He felt naked without Achilles pressing against him and he slowly evolved without the feeling. Achilles tugged his tunic down over his lower abs.
The young boy could feel the heat as he emerged from the stone's shadows. His blonde hair falling into his eyes as he went passed Achilles. He could see rose pink bloom over the flesh of Achilles' cheek; smell the sudden sweat of his body. And so did Achilles from Patroclus' young, taught body. "We'll continue again tomorrow." Achilles directed. And they did.
Just as Achilles planned it to be. But what he didn't plan was the excruciating feeling that they felt in that mere moment, was gradually ascending beyond their control. One time Achilles trapped Patroclus up against a stone ruin, so close that they could feel one another's pulse speed up as they looked at each other. And for a lifetime they just stared into one another's eyes.
Their latest intensifying pause was the most they've endured yet. It was a hot noon, when Apollo was at his cruelest during the day. Achilles and Patroclus both decided to strip off their tunics which were now well damp with sweat. Patroclus, in luck, tripped Achilles flat on his back, but with him being dragged down on top of Achilles himself. If they were to recall the moment, both of the men would say they've stayed there for hours just looking at each other. But only time its self could recount seconds.
Patroclus' blonde hair dangled over his face. This itched Achilles to pull behind his ear to better see him. When his palm glided over the youth's cheek he swooned at the touch closing his eyes in the excitement of it all. Patroclus lightly kissed Achilles' fingertips, each blessing them with his tongue. Achilles slowly came to Patroclus' lips closer then ever then it happened again. A distant thought of guilt quickly swept through his mind. Instant it was, but it lightly burned into Achilles to make him stop what he was about to do. "We will continue......"
Startled, Patroclus opened his eyes to see Achilles below him. "Tomorrow. Tomorrow." That was all Achilles said before he left Patroclus on his knees replaying what had just happened between them. He touched his lips. The ones that got to invoke Patroclus' passion for something more. It wasn't him that did that just now. Or was it? Was it really another Patroclus that he, himself, never ventured to know before? Who ever he was now, he still touched his lips. The only traces of the last Patroclus that vanished away as quickly as Achilles.
I know that last chapter might have been very sloppy written. But it was just how I was feeling at the moment. So you must excuse me for this one. Please review on how you feel, ANYTHING! Next week, Achilles and Patroclus' relation will deepen more then ever and I must be careful with this one, don't I?