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“How does that work? Achilles is so far out of his league and he can’t even see it.”
“Yeah, right? I don’t get it. It must suck to date a blind kid, and Pat’s not even hot.”
They’d probably thought they were being quiet, but Patroclus is, after all, blind. His hearing compensates.
He likes to think that looks don’t matter to him, and most of the time that’s true. But Patroclus already kind of had a complex about not being good enough for popular, all-around talented, probably-some-kind-of-god Achilles, and the words hit a little too close to home.
Achilles meets him outside his last class as usual and they walk to their lockers, Achilles helping him grab the books he needs for his homework before they leave for Achilles’s dad’s house.
They walk away from the school and down a quiet suburban street, arm in arm, and Achilles tries to make conversation as they go, but Patroclus’s heart just isn’t in it today. He can’t stop thinking about what he’d overheard, can’t stop the sinking, awful feeling that it’s probably true.
The words roar in Patroclus’s head, drowning out Achilles’s aimless chatter, until finally he can’t take it anymore and the words burst out. “Am I ugly?”
Achilles goes still instantly, and Patroclus feels his gut twist.
“You can tell me if I am,” he continues, a little desperately. “Please, I just need to know.”
“Why-” Achilles’s voice, usually so confident, comes out as little more than a breath. “Why would you ever think that you’re…that you’re ugly?”
Patroclus shrugs, his mouth twisting in an imitation of a smile. “Heard some people talking. They said that you’re miles out of my league, and that it must be hard dating a blind guy who’s not even hot. You know, stuff like that.”
Achilles is silent for several excruciating moments. Not for the first time Patroclus wishes he could see Achilles’s face, read the expressions there.
“You don’t have to stay with me, you know. I don’t want to be pitied, not ever, so if that’s why you’re sticking around-”
Patroclus is suddenly silenced by a finger pressing firmly against his lips.
“Stop. Please stop,” Achilles says, pain audible in his voice. He takes Patroclus’s hand and leads him off the sidewalk, helps Patroclus sit down on the curb before sitting down beside him.
“Patroclus, those people were full of shit,” he says with conviction. His voice is low and angry, contrasting with the gentle circles he’s rubbing on Patroclus’s hands with his thumbs. “You can’t listen to that, you can’t believe that. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever known, and I’ll never forgive myself for letting you think otherwise for a second.”
The gentle hands move to stroke Patroclus’s forearms, and Patroclus is having a hard time breathing.
“Your hair is this really rich dark brown color and it shines in the sun like nothing I’ve ever seen. And you have this little bit of hair behind your ear that never quite lays flat, and I love it, Pat. Your skin’s a gorgeous shade of brown, it almost looks golden, and it’s so soft, I could touch you all day and never get tired of it.”
Patroclus is blushing hard by this point. “Achilles, stop, you don’t have to-”
“Let me, okay?” Achilles asks, hands steady on Patroclus’s arms. “Let me do this for you. You deserve to know how absolutely, devastatingly attractive I find you.”
Well, it’s hard to argue with that. Patroclus grins and falls silent as Achilles continues his litany.
“Your body, Pat. Your body. You’ve got all this lean muscle but you still have softness in all the right places. It’s phenomenal. I’ve literally written you in as a contestant in the Sexiest Man Alive competition for the last three years.”
“Oh my god,” Patroclus laughs, leaning over to bump Achilles’s shoulder with his forehead, “you did not.”
“I promise I did.”
“I actually believe you. You idiot,” Patroclus says, but he can’t stop smiling, leaning against Achilles now.
“Shut up, shut up, I haven’t even told you about your eyes yet,” Achilles continues.
Patroclus’s smile stills.
“I know you’re insecure about them because you think they look all unfocused and weird, but I swear I’ve only ever seen the best things there. Like your kindness. And the way the sides of them crinkle up when you laugh, and how they light up when you hear my voice.
"I’m being a total sap here, Pat, but the point is that I love you, and everything about you, inside and out. It’s never been about pity, or any of that horseshit, all right? And I’d rather….I don’t know, join a knitting circle with Agamemnon, than even think about leaving you. You’re it for me, Pat. You’re it. Okay?”
Patroclus finds his voice with some difficulty. “Dammit, Achilles, you’re going to make me cry,” he says, reaching up to run a hand gently over his boyfriend’s cheek. He feels Achilles’s eyes flutter shut at his touch.
They stay like that for several moments, alone on the curb with only the cool breeze for company. Then, Achilles leans over to press a soft kiss to Patroclus’s lips.
“Are we good?” he asks.
Patroclus nods, sliding a hand to Achilles’s hair and pulling him in for another kiss.
“Never been better,” he says.
They stand up to continue the walk home, hand in hand.