madeline took this

2

The Song of Achilles Modern AU

“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.” - Madeline Miller

Niels Schneider as Achilles

Bob Morley as Patroclus

Take Me Into Your Loving Arms

The ‘Imagine your OTP dancing to Thinking Out Loud in pajamas’ prompt from otpprompts inspired me too much. I had to do it.

Their lives were nothing but dysfunctional. Of course there was love and concern and care. Each other’s happiness mattered to them, no matter how hard it was to see from a third party. Regardless, it seemed to be blatantly obvious that Arthur and Francis cared for each other.

It was blinded from everyone else. When Arthur fell asleep with a book thrown across his face, it was Francis who crawled into bed next to him, wrapping his arms around his lover’s torso, and nestled him into a peaceful slumber. When Francis came home drunk from a late night out with friends, Arthur was there to peel his jacket from his slumped shoulders, hand him a glass of water, and push him into bed. They weren’t the norm, but really, who was?

College was probably the most difficult place to hold a relationship. Whether it was your fault or not, you tended to grow apart from the person you loved. They tried to spend time together; whenever they had a free minute, it was taken over by each other. But that was a rare occurrence. Classes, work, studying, all while attempting to find sleep in between. It was hard enough to eat while juggling all of that, let alone plan a date.

On one particular night, the sky a dark purple fading into black, Arthur sat at his computer desk, typing out a paper, music playing in the background as if to soothe him. He only had until the next morning to turn it in, and it was too much of a stressor. Teeth grinding, enraged, frustrated breathes huffing out of his nose, he cracked his knuckles to get the kinks out before typing once more. He could’ve stopped, taken a break. But even if he lay down for a single second, he’d pass out, and the paper would never get done.

Too preoccupied in his work, he didn’t even hear the door creak open. He didn’t hear the bag drop onto the floor. He didn’t hear the socked-footsteps pattering towards him. He barely even noticed when a pair of bare, strong arms wrapped around his shoulders.

Mon amour, you’ve been at this for hours,” Francis whispered into his ear. “Have you even stopped to eat dinner?”

“No time,” Arthur muttered, fingers refusing to stop flying across the keyboard. “If I stop now, I’ll never get back to work. I’ve gotten into my rhythm, Francis. I can’t stop now. Not until I’m done.”

With a sigh, Francis kneeled next to his computer chair, hands resting on his thighs. “You’re getting dark circles, lapin. I can hear your stomach grumbling. It’ll only take a few moments. A break will do you good.”

“Shut up,” Arthur snapped, nudging his leg to get Francis to release his grip on him. He was stubborn, he knew. And deep down, he didn’t really want to take his anger out on Francis, because he knew he was right. He was tired. And hungry. All he wanted was a blueberry scone and then to pass out in his bed. But he couldn’t do that until his bloody paper was done.

His music changed from rough and angry to soft and melodious, but that only put him into a bigger slump. Typing to the beat of a song was sort of his thing. How was he supposed to type to Ed Sheeran and not get distracted, let alone sexually frustrated?

Suddenly, a pair of hands gently grabbed his wrists and pulled them away from the keyboard. Forced into a standing position, he turned around to glare at Francis who was smiling fondly at him. Holding out his hand, palm up, he said, “Dance with me, Arthur.”

He rolled his eyes. “You are the dumbest, cheesiest person I have ever met.”

“And you love me. Now, come, dance with me.” Francis tugged him closer, their chest touching, heartbeats jumping through their clothed bodies. Francis’s arms traced their way across Arthur’s shoulders, down the slope of his waist, and came to rest upon his hips.

“I have to write my paper,” Arthur grumbled, but if he were being honest, he much preferred his current state to his previous one.

“Hush,” Francis said. “Just relax, Arthur. You’re going to go crazy if you keep this up.”

He could’ve retaliated easily, even broken out of the grip he was being held in. If he showed true discomfort or fury, Francis would let him go, he always did. But he didn’t want to be let go, not right now. Not ever really. He wasn’t one who was good with feelings; they were far too mysterious and foreign for him to comprehend. What he had for Francis though, that was something that made his pulse jump and made his stomach squeeze into itself.

So he let himself be held, swaying away to a cliché, overplayed pop song. The lyrics were whispered in his ears, only to make the situation more like a romantic drama that played on Lifetime. He couldn’t say he truly minded.

For those few minutes that the song played on, the moment never had to end. And it didn’t. Even when it did, he refused to pull away, resting against his boyfriend’s shoulder, smiling into the soft skin of his neck. Francis pressed a light kiss to his forehead, his arms tightening around Arthur even more.

They could worry about their problems and prior commitments another time, another hour, another day. Right now, all they needed was to stand in the silence of a dark dorm room, holding each other as the computer screen faded into a deep sleep.

dkjshjksdhfdskjhfdskj some dude who works for a charity associated with our store took a photo of me at work and it’s legit the Worst Photo Ever ™