Patroclus can barely say ‘hello’ when Philia breezes through the kitchen, her bookbag and duffle bag rustling behind her. Achilles follows, amused as he takes a bar stool at the island. When Patroclus blinks at him, still chopping peppers, Achilles shrugs.
“I don’t know either. She was buzzing with energy, but when I asked how gymnastics went, she told me that I needed to ‘hold on’ because she was thinking.”
Patroclus nods sagely. “So it’s about to be another new idea.”
Philia is twelve now, and it never ceases to amuse them that she still shows the same ticks of excitement that she’s had since she was a toddler. There are many things that she’s changing about herself now that she’s, quote, ‘almost a teenager, which means I’ll have to reinvent myself!’ She’s a whirlwind, and they struggle to keep up with her sometimes, so it’s nice to see some things never change.
Dinner is almost prepared, Achilles and Patroclus flirting over a glass of wine and a suggestively eaten spoon of mashed potatoes, when Philia slides back into the kitchen. Her hair is up in a large pineapple, and she’s wearing a loose basketball jersey, shorts, and knee length socks.
“Aht!” Patroclus cautions, holding a finger up. “You know there’s no playing in the kitchen.”
“I’m not playing. I’m making an entrance.”
Patroclus rolls his eyes at the drama- truly, she’s Achilles’ daughter.
“Uh huh.” Achilles comments, looking her up and down as she sits in the stool next to him. “Nice PJs.”
“It’s stylish, right? Stylish, yet comfy. Nothing like those boring, restrictive school uniforms. Don’t you hate uniforms? Every time I get home I feel like setting them on fire. Anyway!” Philia slams her hands down onto the marble, manically excited. “Daddy. Papa. I have something to discuss.”
They look at one another, then back at her expectantly. “Yes?”
“Girls.”
Patroclus raises a brow. “Okay?”
“But also consider: boys.”
Achilles’ lip quirks. “All right?”
“Did you know… both can be cute at the same time?”
As Philia waits for them to laud her new discovery, Achilles and Patroclus share another glance.
Didn’t we have this conversation already? Achilles blinks.
Probably wasn’t listening, Patroclus blinks back. They turn back to Philia, now impatient.
“I thought we had this conversation, sweetheart,” Achilles comments, confused. “We’re both bisexual.”
“Yes, we’ve discussed this before,” Patroclus concurs. “Are you telling us that you are, too?”
Philia rolls her eyes, waving her hands dramatically.
“I mean yeah we’ve discussed this, but that was before. I’m talking about today! One of my classmate’s sisters- she’s in 10th grade- came to get him from class, and she was sooooo pretty! And I was like wow, there’s no way anyone can be that pretty! And then, his brother came out to join her, and you’ll never believe it- he was sooooo pretty too! They’re twins! I was just like-” She gestures back and forth between two invisible people, mind-blown.
Patroclus doesn’t bother to hide his amusement, gripping the counter as he heaves with laughter. Achilles’ eyes are watering; she’s so precious.
“Yes, boys and girls can be pretty at the same time,” he says, laughter in his voice. “I’m glad you came to this conclusion. Thank you for feeling safe enough to tell us. So… are you crushing on them? Maybe ‘like’ them in that way?”
“Like the way you and Papa love each other?”
Achilles’ amusement shrivels a little. “Maybe?”
“Mmm,” Philia pauses, ruminating. “Nah. I don’t think I’m interested in crushes like that. I just thought they were cute.”
“Good,” Achilles agrees, relieved. “Besides, you’re only in the 7th grade. There’ll certainly be no dating any 10th graders! Or anyone, really. Not until you’re thirty.”
“Daddy, don’t be so dramatic. I just said I wasn’t interested! Besides, I don’t need to be like you and Papa. You both are gross sometimes with all your kisses.”
Mildly hurt, Achilles holds a hand to his heart. “Why do we have to be gross?”
Patroclus only waves a hand, still snorting. Philia- as affectionate as she was- was also going through her phase where it was embarrassing to see her fathers love on each other. This, from the girl who used to demand all her Papa’s hugs and kisses! He turns to Philia, composing himself.
“So you think boys and girls are cute, then.”
“Yes! Did you feel that way when you were twelve?”
“Yeah. Though, your Daddy is the only one for me. The most beautiful, no one could ever compare.”
“Oh, Philtatos,” Achilles coos, immediately flattered out of his false pain. Philia sticks out her tongue, and he returns the gesture. “I was a little younger than you when I realized your Papa was the one for me.”
“He was a jerk about it, too. Go ahead and tell her what happened.”
“I grew up! I did better!”
“Oh no, not a story-”
Achilles’ heart pounds as he stands in front of the desk, fidgeting with his uncomfortable uniform sleeves. Mommy had brushed out his curls today, so they bounced around his head, a look that doesn’t exactly help him go unnoticed- but he did it! He snuck in from recess, all the way back to the classroom, just for this moment.
The note has his all his heart in it. He stayed up late last night, holding up a flashlight to paper so that he could write all the things he liked about his crush in sparkly green pen, ending it with a simple message: ‘Do you like me?’ with a box for ‘Yes’ and a box for ‘No’. He even reviewed it over and over for spelling mistakes and found none!
Patroclus is so cute.
He’s got these big, brown eyes that he slowly blinks. His locs reach his ears, and they rustle in sync when he shakes his head- his mom even let him get temporary green dye on the tips! How cool! Best of all, he’s got this pretty smile that makes Achilles’ heart thump every time he sees it.
He’s so sweet, too. When the teacher brought her kitten to school, the kitten naturally drifted towards Patroclus, who didn’t even need to be told to be gentle with it. Then he gave it to Achilles- out of everyone he could have shared it with, he shared it with Achilles! They shared the kitten for one whole minute together, and he just knew he could spend the rest of their lives together forever.
Valentine’s Day is next week, and Achilles was going to approach him, except at the last second he realized Patroclus might not like a public asking-out. He’s so considerate, just like Mommy taught him! Finally pumped up, he drops the note inside Patroclus’ desk and escapes. What will Patroclus say? Will he like the small rhyme he put in it? He can’t wait to see the look on his face, he just knows that Patroclus thinks he’s cute too! He only has to wait for him to answer.
Except… Patroclus never does.
Time passes, and he never gets his note back. In fact, Patroclus acts like he never got a note at all. He still sits with him at lunch, plays with him in gym, does art together… and acts like nothing happened. All of Achilles’ feelings, and they just… don’t matter? Are they a joke to him or something?!
Achilles hates it. He hates it, and now he hates Patroclus.
One day he’s on the playground, angrily throwing a ball at the wall, when someone else catches it. He turns to demand whoever it is give him his ball back when his fists ball up. It’s Patroclus, holding the ball out to him.
“Hey, Achilles. I saw you over here, and you looked a bit alone… do you want to play together?”
Alone? Play together? Do anything together? Achilles can’t believe his nerve! So furious that his face swells red, Achilles storms forward. Patroclus’ eyes widen as Achilles snatches the ball from him and throws it away, before pushing him so hard that he falls to the ground.
“No I don’t want to play with you! Don’t ever talk to me again!”
It’s the middle of a game of mat-ball for second bell gym class, Patroclus is up to kick, and Achilles seethes.
No one should look so good in these hideous gym uniforms. It’s 10th grade now, and his locs brush just under his shoulders. He’s a little bit taller than Achilles, amongst the tallest in their grade, and he’s still got room to grow. He’s even got a small mustache and a little fluff on his chin- meanwhile, Achilles still can’t even find peach fuzz! Worst of all, so many girls and even some of the guys are flirting with him! And he always smiles back with that stupid smile, the one where his eyes crinkle and make him look so soft, and- and-
What did the rest of those peons have that he didn’t?! Achilles was good looking too! Everyone tells him so! His hair, now wavier, is shiny and long, his eyes are a gemstone green, and he doesn’t even have acne like everyone else! He’s even got abs and wins all the sit up competitions in gym. He’s seen it in the locker room when they all compared- no one else’s abs are as nice as his! And he’s not stupid- sure, his math grades could be better, but he’s good at essays and stuff! He’s brain and brawn! What’s not to like?
Achilles is so busy pissing himself off that he doesn’t notice the whistle blow. Everyone around him moves, and it’s only when he sees something flashing by that he unintentionally braces for impact. Something collides with him, sending them both to the hard floor. His eyes tear up with pain, and because he’s looking at his bruising skin, he’s not prepared when Patroclus slams into him a second time.
“What’s your fucking problem?!”
He pushes him so hard that this time it is Achilles alone who slams into the ground. Hurt, followed by fury, drives Achilles to lunge at Patroclus.
“Don’t fucking touch me!”
The rest of the class ogles them as they grapple, egging them on as they scream and curse. The gym teachers have to pull them apart, dragging them to the office. Half an hour later, they’re stuck in the detention room for a day of silent in-school suspension. The monitor is an old guard, barely cognizant as he naps in front of the whiteboard. Unfortunately, he remembered to take their phones and lock them in the desk, so all that’s left for Achilles and Patroclus to do is hate each other from across the room and work on their homework.
Achilles took a little longer than Patroclus did to start- what a freaking loser, probably worried about his goody two-shoes rep- but eventually he too pulled out his homework, grumbling as he worked through history. They sit in mind-numbing silence, only pausing to eat school provided lunch, until the monitor’s stomach releases a curdling growl so loud that they both raise their heads.
“Urgh, uh, I’ll be right back-” he says, gripping his stomach as he races out. It’s probably because he was on his second pot of coffee today, Achilles thinks, snickering to himself. The moment the door closes behind him, he races up to the front desk, yanking on all the drawers.
“Shit,” he hisses. He can’t get his phone back. He slogs back to his desk, flopping in his seat. Scribbles around a long geometry problem he can’t solve stare him back in the face, and in his frustration, he tears the paper out of the notebook, balls it up, and aims it at the trash can. It misses, and Achilles smarts at the petty snickers coming from across the room.
“Okay, then you do it!”
Nose up, Patroclus balls up a piece of notebook paper, but then Achilles stops him.
“No, from over here! Same angle!”
Patroclus flinches a tiny amount, but then squares his shoulders, walking over. Achilles gestures dramatically, and Patroclus takes the shot… and misses.
“Ha! Not that easy, is it?”
“Whatever. I bet I could make more shots than you.”
Achilles tips his chin up, tearing a new piece of paper and shoving it into Patroclus’ face. “Okay, then. Try it. First to five points has to do whatever the other person wants for a day.”
Patroclus’ nostrils flare with annoyance, but he snatches the paper, unwilling to back down. “Fine. I’ll start.” He walks over to the other side of the room, looks around, and points at a spot. “Off the board, and into the trash can.”
Seconds later, he’s thrown the paper ball off the board, and it swishes into the can.
“One,” Patroclus purrs, turning his neck and leaving Achilles livid. He gets into Patroclus’ original position, trying his best to look nonchalant as he remembers how Patroclus did it. He shoots… and misses.
“Whatever. We have time. Over there, from under the arm.”
Under the arm, under the leg, backwards, and off the ceiling later, Achilles has only made one point and he is desperate. He’s better at sports in any other scenario. If this had been a race, he’d have won it. If this had been football, he’d have caught the ball and made it down the field. Hell, even if it had been a real basketball- it might not have been his best sport, but he was great at the physicality of it! He could make real buckets! But this; apparently, he’s just not on his game right now! He’s just too frustrated, too many emotions running through his mind. He stands on top of a desk, having held in position for five minutes while trying to subtly adjust his hand.
“If you move slightly to the left and arc a little higher, you’ll make it.”
“I don’t need your help!”
Achilles is bullshitting. Patroclus has four points to his one. What things is he going to ask him to do all day? It’ll probably be something super humiliating! Maybe Achilles will just take his chances and fight him instead so they’ll extend his ISS by another day-
“Oh my god. Dude. Just listen to me. I’m trying to help you.”
He doesn’t want to take Patroclus’ advice, but needs are needs- he adjusts, and with a silent prayer, he makes the shot. It goes in, first try.
Achilles is elated. “I did it, it did it, look, I-”
He turns, shining with a happiness that crashes to a halt when he realizes Patroclus is smiling too. Smiling at him, those eyes crinkling and his teeth bright white against pretty brown skin and oh no his heart is pounding again he can’t do this he can’t- Achilles clears his throat, jumping down and nonchalantly dusting off his shoulders.
“All right, I’ll admit it. You’re… pretty good at this game. With angles and stuff. I bet your geometry scores are really good.”
Patroclus’ jaw drops a little in surprise, and he runs a sheepish hand through his locs. “Um. Yeah. There was one problem from today’s homework that was pretty rough. I think I figured it out though- if you needed any help.”
“I…Sure, I mean, if you’re so determined to help me. Even though it sounds like you’re trying to get out of the game.” Achilles slyly glances at Patroclus from under his lashes, who laughs as he pulls out his math textbook.
“I mean, if you’re so determined to lose, I can put my stuff back down.”
Wordlessly, Achilles grabs his homework and sits down next to Patroclus. The original problem, the one that had Achilles stumped for fifteen minutes, is solved in five. He can’t believe it was that easy, and he’s about to thank Patroclus when he finds Patroclus is giving him that look again. That soft, gentle one that he gave when he was sharing the kitten. Blushing, Achilles looks away.
“I guess you’re pretty cool,” he mutters. “Not that you need me to tell you.”
Patroclus looks down, fidgeting. “Thanks. You too. When you’re not trying to be, I think.”
“What do you mean?”
Patroclus leans back into his chair, thoughtful. “I think that when you’re being yourself, instead of walking around acting like you’re so tough all the time,” he says, gently nudging Achilles, “you’re pretty okay.”
“You said I was cool, before!” Achilles scoffs to hide his pleasure, nudging him back. “What happened?”
“Do you…want to be cool, to me?”
Patroclus looks genuinely interested, like he wants an answer, like he wants the answer to be yes. Well Achilles isn’t going to do that- maybe this time he should go without an answer- so he grabs his stuff, fleeing to the other side of the room.
“Let’s play paper football!” he calls back, avoiding the question. “It takes less paper.”
He pointedly folds the paper into a triangle, refusing to watch as Patroclus’ expression crumples for a moment, settling into a sad acceptance. He moves to a desk and holds his fingers up in the u-shape indicating the end zone. They quietly play paper football for a few minutes before Patroclus sighs.
“Well. I do think you’re cool, Achilles. I wish we could have been friends this entire time.”
I wanted to be your friend! I wanted to be more than your friend! You could have said no. We could have just been friends. But you- you stepped on my feelings. How could I be friends with someone who cared so little about me?
But I don’t want to hate you. I’m tired of hating you. If this is what we’re going to be, then-
Achilles takes a deep breath. He walks over, holding his hand out.
“Well let’s start over, then. Friends.”
It’s… not exactly what Achilles wants. Something about it feels hollow. Not that friendship is bad, or anything! Of course he wants to be Patroclus’ friend. But… sometimes, late at night when no one can see him, he still imagines doing more. He imagines pulling Patroclus into a closet by that atrocious uniform tie and kissing him silly, maybe doing the things that his classmates talk about doing. One of them pulled out a video behind the school to show all the guys, and Achilles hasn’t slept well since. He shakes his head; he can’t think those thoughts. Not when he’s just got back into Patroclus’ good graces.
They’re on the next round when Achilles hears the doorknob shake, and he bolts to sit next to Patroclus. They both hold their heads down, trying to hide their giggles. It doesn’t work, and the monitor quickly demands a cackling Achilles get back across the room. Undaunted, Achilles tears out another piece of paper to write Patroclus a note.
I guess he’s back from emptying ass for forty-five minutes, huh
Balling it up, he waits until the monitor looks down at his phone and tosses it over to Patroclus, who neatly and silently catches it. Achilles is practically choking on his laughter, but his humor fades when Patroclus reads his note and makes a strange face. It’s shock, followed by wonder, then hope as he looks back at Achilles with wide eyes. He’s so confused. What? What did he say? Was there something else on the piece of paper? The guard taking a dump couldn’t be that much of a revelation.
The school day is over when they are released two hours later, the campus quiet with the last of the clubs making their way home. The day is still lovely, the trees blossoming with flowers after all the spring rains. They stand side by side, unsure of where to go from here.
“So, um…” Patroclus starts, unsure. “Since I technically won the game. There’s a cool racing movie coming out this weekend. Do you…want to go see it together?”
Achilles wants to say yes. He wants to dress nice, buy popcorn, maybe even hold hands in the dark theater… But as his heart fills with hope, his old anger kicks it down. No. They’re just friends. That isn’t going to happen.
“I… I don’t know.”
Patroclus’ lips quiver. “What?”
“I mean, I’m scared.”
“Scared? Of me? Why?” Offense soaks Patroclus’ words, and Achilles shakes his head.
“Of course not!”
“Of what, then?”
Achilles takes a deep breath. “Of… liking you again.” I never stopped liking you. This is so embarrassing.
“Really?” Patroclus’ breath hitches.
“Yeah. You refused me. And you’re allowed to say no, but you didn’t even do that! Why’d you have to ignore my feelings? I know we just said we were going to be friends, but I just… I’m already messing it up because they’re still there and I’m still hurt.”
“Ignore your feelings- Achilles, I didn’t ignore your feelings, I didn’t even know you had feelings.”
Patroclus’ ignorance is pissing Achilles off, and he scowls. “Don’t pretend! You got my note! You saw how I felt! You didn’t even have the nerve to respond to me!”
Patroclus frowns. “Is that what all of this has been about? Because-”
“Yeah! It has been! The whole time, and you thought it was okay to-”
“You didn’t leave your name on it, headass!”
Achilles freezes, thrown by the sudden vehemence. “…What?”
“Look!” Patroclus pulls the note out of his wallet, old and crinkled, and shoves it in Achilles’ face. The green glitter pen is unmistakable- that’s his writing.
“There was just some random love note in my desk, and I was too embarrassed to walk around asking who left it. I wanted it to be you, but you never said anything. And then you pushed me over screaming about ‘don’t ever talk to me again’ so I figured it couldn’t be you. It really hurt my feelings because I- well- I kind of liked you. And every day I wondered what I did that made you so upset with me.”
Sure enough, at the bottom of his glittering magnum opus of love, there is no name. Achilles hadn’t written his own name. All this time, and he’s done nothing but treat Patroclus cruelly because of a stupid mistake. No fucking way. He silently turns around and walks a couple steps away, impatiently placing his hands on his waist. Then he screams into his hands, followed by a deep breath. If he could yeet himself into the local stream and never come back from this, he would. The only thing balancing out his mortification is his elation, when he finally returns to blink at Patroclus.
“And you really kept it all this time?”
Patroclus, his ears hot, shyly nods. “It was a bit corny, but it was the nicest thing anyone has ever said about me. I always wanted to have it just in case whoever it was decided to try again, so I could thank them if nothing else. Despite everything, I’m… glad it was you.”
Achilles flushes pink with happiness. “You, um… you didn’t check a box.”
Patroclus huffs a laugh, pulling a pen out of his pocket. “Is that what you still want?”
He can’t believe Patroclus really kept the note. He kept the note, he cared, and for years Achilles has been nothing but a dick.
“Actually, do you want to punch me in the face? I feel like I deserve that. It’s a free one, I promise I won’t snitch to the teachers or anything.”
“You could just apologize, and we could go from there.”
That’s fair. “I’m sorry, Patroclus. I shouldn’t have pushed you, that day. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you, ever. If… if you were willing to give me another chance, I’ll make up for everything?”
Patroclus smiles, checking off the ‘yes’ box on the note. “Don’t be mean to me if you don’t understand things anymore. You can pout though, it’s kind of cute.”
As if on cue, Achilles pouts, though it doesn’t last for long as his face stretches into a smile.
“Also… since this was a long-delayed Valentine’s offer, the spring formal is coming up. If you want to-”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t even-”
“I don’t care. Yes. I want to go. With you. To the movie. To the dance. All of it.”
Achilles’ love, after years of bitterness, is a bit overwhelming for Patroclus, and his shoulders rise to his ears with a bashful excitement. “So. Now what?” He inhales sharply when Achilles sidles up to him, nose to nose.
“Well, I heard that behind the bleachers is a… pretty nice, secret space…” he whispers, tugging at the bottom of Patroclus’ shirt. “Race me there before our parents get here?”
Patroclus grins.
“And the rest is history,” Patroclus ends, cutting off Achilles before he tells that part of the story. “Everyone was so confused. They thought ISS got you a boyfriend, the way we walked in hating each other and came out in love.”
Achilles blows numerous kisses to Patroclus, still just as much in love as the day he first saw him. “We had more mature bumps in the road on the way here, but I still love your Papa to death. Anyway, Philia, that’s why you should always make sure you put your name on your homework.”
Philia, who thinks the story is adorable, scoffs. “Daddy, that is not even remotely the point of that story. I can’t believe you were salty for four years all because of something that was your fault.”
“It’s a character flaw,” Patroclus comments, dodging when Achilles swats at him.
“Anyway, I’m cooler than both of you. I can get a boyfriend or girlfriend without going to ISS.”
“That wasn’t the point of the story either! You don’t need to be worried about any partners at all, because again, you’re not dating till you’re thirty.” Achilles chastises. “Besides, that wasn’t the last time I was in ISS, and none of those other times ended well. Stay well-behaved.”
Patroclus snorts in agreement, his eyes widening with humor. Philia’s eyes glow with curiosity.
“Tell me about those times! Did you get suspended out of school? Expelled?”
“No, and I’m not telling.”
“Oh, come on! You’re both so lame now! You’re really not going to tell me how you got in trouble?”
“Not right now,” Patroclus laughs. “No ideas for you. And don’t come up with your own either. Now, go wash your hands for dinner while I love on your mean ass Daddy some more.”
Achilles, unbothered by the playful shade, melts into Patroclus’ hands as he thumbs at his cheeks before kissing him. Philia yucks at the purposely mushy display of affection, tossing a towel at their faces and racing away before they can catch her.