Wow! Thanks for all of your kind reviews! The info that was given to me
that in the actual book Patroclus was Achilles' lover will be very useful.
Since I already mentioned that they were cousins, we will have a little bit
of cousincest! Maybe 2nd cousins twice removed? ;-))
I have this ENTIRE story planned out, it's just that if a few chapters just ramble on a bit, it's because I don't want things moving too fast. This chapter will be mostly gaining eachother's trust and conversations. I hope you enjoy.
A few months passed, and Paris and Achilles got along well enough. They spoke a few times, but not a lot. Odysseus often visited when he wasn't caught up in things, and he and Paris established a good friendship.
The thing was, no one knew about Paris. Or at least, the Grecian king Agamemnon didn't know. Achilles refused to take council with him, and Agamemnon wasn't interested in Achilles' daily life when he wasn't fighting.
It was surprising that the two didn't hate eachother. Paris had expected to loathe the man who had killed his brother, but he felt himself warming up to him.
The one peculiar thing was that Achilles' has terrible nightmares nearly every night. The second night of Paris' coming Achilles' had began to thrash about in his sleep, and actually moaned softly. He whispered fervently, "Patroclus......no, don't go.....you can't leave me here alone!"
Paris had been bewildered at this and cautiously comforted the troubled warrior. Achilles had woken up at Paris' soft caress to his long blonde hair and actually began to sob.
"I thought you were.....no, stupid of me." he had began, as tears streamed from his blue eyes.
This behavior had shocked and frightened Paris. Who would have thought Achilles' would actually cry from a nightmare?
Comforting the man had become almost a nightly thing after this. Paris would take one of his hands and whisper soothingly to him. In the past couple of days he actually held Achilles. He found that Achilles fit surprisingly well in his arms.
One night, around 2 months after Paris had given himself to Achilles, the great warrior spoke.
"I miss him, Paris."
Paris looked up from the book he had been reading. It took a lot to make Achilles admit that he was hurting, but the pain in his eyes was easily read.
"You speak of Patroclus, right? I do not know much of him, Achilles."
Achilles nodded. "He was my best friend.....and he was my lover."
Paris looked up quickly. Lovers? Patroclus and Achilles?
Achilles met Paris' brown eyes. "Yes, he was related to me in a distant way. But we knew eachother forever, and we fell in love. He was the wildest, most stubborn, loveable creature I had ever known."
Paris nodded. He was a good listener, and knew that Achilles wanted to let out his inner fear and hurt.
Achilles gazed at him as he spoke, "He was also the most beautiful.....until I met you." He then lowered his gaze and Paris actually saw a rosy blush flush his high cheekbones. It was quite becoming of him.
Though it was probably just a kind compliment from a friend, Achilles' comment scared Paris. He didn't want Achilles to actually use him for pleasure, and if he thought he was beautiful, that was an indication that Achilles' was attracted to him. But, if Achilles ordered him to be his for as many nights as he needed, Paris couldn't refuse. He had given himself away.
"Thank you." it was barely more than a whisper, but Achilles heard it.
Achilles sounded disgusted with himself and at the same time his voice was shaky. "Maybe if I was there.....maybe if I had been there to protect him.....he would still be here today." He buried his face in his long, strong hands.
Paris didn't know what to say to that. He realized that Achilles had tremendous guilt about Patroclus' death.
"Maybe if I wasn't a coward, and if I didn't steal Helen away, Hector would still live," Paris said softly, and now his eyes filled with tears.
Achilles stood up slowly, and shuffled over to Paris. He sat down beside his friend and very carefully, folded him in a careful embrace.
Paris couldn't help himself and leaned into the warm hug, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
"There was more to you than just being brothers, wasn't there?" Achilles asked, forgetting his own sorrow for a time.
Paris nodded. "Yes," he began, his voice thick with tears, "we were actually lovers for a time."
Achilles did not flinch away in disgust as Paris had expected. Instead, he tightened his embrace slightly. "I understand."
"You do?"
"Yes. Your love was pure. I can tell. I know what it is like to love a family member. There is no shame in it in my eyes." Paris looked up into those beautiful blue eyes at these words and smiled. His face was streaked with tears, as was Achilles', but Achilles thought he was still beautiful. The silky curls rested on his head down to his shoulders, and the gorgeous brown eyes were sparkling.
Paris also studied the man who held him so protectively. Achilles was a handsome man, with golden skin and long gold hair. His blus e eyes were windows to his soul and long eyelashes framed him.
Then it happened.
Achilles leaned down and gently captured Paris' lips with his own. It was a sweet kiss that spoke of affection and love, and asked for nothing in return.
Paris was scared out of his wits at first, but then realized that there was nothing to fear. The kiss was tender, and Achilles' soft, ruby red lips felt wonderful on his own.
Achilles pulled away an inch, and whispered. "I'm sorry."
Paris looked deeply into those eyes. "Do not be," he whispered, and locked his own lips onto Achilles'.
They kissed softly and lovingly for long minutes, and Achilles' hands found their way into Paris' soft locks. Paris threw his long arms around Achilles' neck and he moved closer to the man.
After they broke away for a second time, they both smiled. "You kiss well." Achilles said, almost teasingly, and Paris laughed softly.
"What does this mean? For us? I came here at first to be your slave, and now I have feelings for you."
Achilles nodded. "I do not know," he began, "but I know that kissing you felt so right, and it felt as though flames were engulfing my body."
Paris nodded. Shock was in his mind, lingering with love and desire for Achilles' skilled and tender touch.
"I loved Helen, Achilles. I still do, but it is not this kind of love. I felt love for her to protect her, to cherish her. But now.....I know that she is safe for now. It is possible to love more than one. And my feelings are you are growing stronger."
"I never thought my feelings would turn into love either, Paris. It is most unexpected, and forbidden to love the enemy. But you are not my enemy. You are my friend, and it is quite possible, we will fall in love." Achilles was surprised as well, but he ached for Paris to be in his arms again.
He hadn't acted just upon lust. He definitely had feelings for the beautiful young man.
What would happen to them?
It was late, so instead of worrying that night, the two snuggled in eachother's arms and held eachother.
Oh dear. Please review! Hope this isn't going too fast!
I have this ENTIRE story planned out, it's just that if a few chapters just ramble on a bit, it's because I don't want things moving too fast. This chapter will be mostly gaining eachother's trust and conversations. I hope you enjoy.
A few months passed, and Paris and Achilles got along well enough. They spoke a few times, but not a lot. Odysseus often visited when he wasn't caught up in things, and he and Paris established a good friendship.
The thing was, no one knew about Paris. Or at least, the Grecian king Agamemnon didn't know. Achilles refused to take council with him, and Agamemnon wasn't interested in Achilles' daily life when he wasn't fighting.
It was surprising that the two didn't hate eachother. Paris had expected to loathe the man who had killed his brother, but he felt himself warming up to him.
The one peculiar thing was that Achilles' has terrible nightmares nearly every night. The second night of Paris' coming Achilles' had began to thrash about in his sleep, and actually moaned softly. He whispered fervently, "Patroclus......no, don't go.....you can't leave me here alone!"
Paris had been bewildered at this and cautiously comforted the troubled warrior. Achilles had woken up at Paris' soft caress to his long blonde hair and actually began to sob.
"I thought you were.....no, stupid of me." he had began, as tears streamed from his blue eyes.
This behavior had shocked and frightened Paris. Who would have thought Achilles' would actually cry from a nightmare?
Comforting the man had become almost a nightly thing after this. Paris would take one of his hands and whisper soothingly to him. In the past couple of days he actually held Achilles. He found that Achilles fit surprisingly well in his arms.
One night, around 2 months after Paris had given himself to Achilles, the great warrior spoke.
"I miss him, Paris."
Paris looked up from the book he had been reading. It took a lot to make Achilles admit that he was hurting, but the pain in his eyes was easily read.
"You speak of Patroclus, right? I do not know much of him, Achilles."
Achilles nodded. "He was my best friend.....and he was my lover."
Paris looked up quickly. Lovers? Patroclus and Achilles?
Achilles met Paris' brown eyes. "Yes, he was related to me in a distant way. But we knew eachother forever, and we fell in love. He was the wildest, most stubborn, loveable creature I had ever known."
Paris nodded. He was a good listener, and knew that Achilles wanted to let out his inner fear and hurt.
Achilles gazed at him as he spoke, "He was also the most beautiful.....until I met you." He then lowered his gaze and Paris actually saw a rosy blush flush his high cheekbones. It was quite becoming of him.
Though it was probably just a kind compliment from a friend, Achilles' comment scared Paris. He didn't want Achilles to actually use him for pleasure, and if he thought he was beautiful, that was an indication that Achilles' was attracted to him. But, if Achilles ordered him to be his for as many nights as he needed, Paris couldn't refuse. He had given himself away.
"Thank you." it was barely more than a whisper, but Achilles heard it.
Achilles sounded disgusted with himself and at the same time his voice was shaky. "Maybe if I was there.....maybe if I had been there to protect him.....he would still be here today." He buried his face in his long, strong hands.
Paris didn't know what to say to that. He realized that Achilles had tremendous guilt about Patroclus' death.
"Maybe if I wasn't a coward, and if I didn't steal Helen away, Hector would still live," Paris said softly, and now his eyes filled with tears.
Achilles stood up slowly, and shuffled over to Paris. He sat down beside his friend and very carefully, folded him in a careful embrace.
Paris couldn't help himself and leaned into the warm hug, his shoulders shaking uncontrollably.
"There was more to you than just being brothers, wasn't there?" Achilles asked, forgetting his own sorrow for a time.
Paris nodded. "Yes," he began, his voice thick with tears, "we were actually lovers for a time."
Achilles did not flinch away in disgust as Paris had expected. Instead, he tightened his embrace slightly. "I understand."
"You do?"
"Yes. Your love was pure. I can tell. I know what it is like to love a family member. There is no shame in it in my eyes." Paris looked up into those beautiful blue eyes at these words and smiled. His face was streaked with tears, as was Achilles', but Achilles thought he was still beautiful. The silky curls rested on his head down to his shoulders, and the gorgeous brown eyes were sparkling.
Paris also studied the man who held him so protectively. Achilles was a handsome man, with golden skin and long gold hair. His blus e eyes were windows to his soul and long eyelashes framed him.
Then it happened.
Achilles leaned down and gently captured Paris' lips with his own. It was a sweet kiss that spoke of affection and love, and asked for nothing in return.
Paris was scared out of his wits at first, but then realized that there was nothing to fear. The kiss was tender, and Achilles' soft, ruby red lips felt wonderful on his own.
Achilles pulled away an inch, and whispered. "I'm sorry."
Paris looked deeply into those eyes. "Do not be," he whispered, and locked his own lips onto Achilles'.
They kissed softly and lovingly for long minutes, and Achilles' hands found their way into Paris' soft locks. Paris threw his long arms around Achilles' neck and he moved closer to the man.
After they broke away for a second time, they both smiled. "You kiss well." Achilles said, almost teasingly, and Paris laughed softly.
"What does this mean? For us? I came here at first to be your slave, and now I have feelings for you."
Achilles nodded. "I do not know," he began, "but I know that kissing you felt so right, and it felt as though flames were engulfing my body."
Paris nodded. Shock was in his mind, lingering with love and desire for Achilles' skilled and tender touch.
"I loved Helen, Achilles. I still do, but it is not this kind of love. I felt love for her to protect her, to cherish her. But now.....I know that she is safe for now. It is possible to love more than one. And my feelings are you are growing stronger."
"I never thought my feelings would turn into love either, Paris. It is most unexpected, and forbidden to love the enemy. But you are not my enemy. You are my friend, and it is quite possible, we will fall in love." Achilles was surprised as well, but he ached for Paris to be in his arms again.
He hadn't acted just upon lust. He definitely had feelings for the beautiful young man.
What would happen to them?
It was late, so instead of worrying that night, the two snuggled in eachother's arms and held eachother.
Oh dear. Please review! Hope this isn't going too fast!