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Achilles had thrown him an apple. Again.
"Did you take it?" his boyfriend asked, frowning, and a tall pair of apples to throw at him in case it didn't.
It must be Thetis' fault, he decided.
Almost everything that hurt or embarrassed Patroclus was due to her.
It was a mathematical law, more specific than the theory of relativity.
The boy frowned, pointing at the bump, "What do you think?"
"Mhm, I threw a little too high," the blond mumbled, instead of apologizing like normal people.
Even if Achilles had never been normal.
"You say?" he asked sarcastically, getting a shrug from the other.
"Next time, I'll aim lower," he said, and in that instant Patroclus had a vision of himself doubled over, because somehow Achilles had managed to hit him in the groin, and the blond saying maybe I aimed wrong.
"Hell, no!"
"You say I should throw higher or…"
Patheoclus interrupted firmly, "No, I say you really should stop before you give me a head injury."
"I don't throw the apple at you so hard."
Patroclus pointed to the bruise again, as evidence. And predictably, Achilles ignored him, "It was an accident."
"Accident? You've been throwing apples at me for two weeks!"
"It's not my fault you don't catch them!"
"Nobody would!"
"Listen, if you'd just pay more attention…"
"Stop throwing fruit at me!"
Achilles shook his head. "No."
Patroclus adored him with all of himself. It was like that with Achilles. Either you loved him or you hated him. There was no middle ground.
Now, however, he was one step away from sympathizing with Agamemnon, and that was not a good sign!
"Do you want to at least explain to me why you're throwing apples at me?"
The blond blushed. It was such a rare sight that for a moment Patroclus thought it was a mere trick of the lights, but it was real. There was an honest blush on Achilles' cheeks.
It was kind of adorable.
Focus, Pat. He remembered you're angry with him, even though Achilles' embarrassed and slightly shy expression would have moved anyone.
"You'll think it's stupid."
"I think throwing apples for no reason is crazy. If I knew why maybe I'd be less inclined to believe I should lock you up in an asylum."
"Here, now you talk like the old Phoenix."
Patroclus found himself smiling. "Phoenix was convinced we were both crazy."
"Well, you hooked up with me. You proved to him he was right."
Patroclus patted his arm lightly. "Don't try to distract me now. Why are you doing this?"
"God, I didn't think it would get to this point…"
"Didn't you?"
"I thought you were going to get the first apple!"
Patroclus snorted, "I told you, you have bad aim. Now, do you want to tell me or not?"
Achilles bit his lip (cute!) and didn't speak for a while. Eventually, he admitted, "Did you know my mother is Greek?"
Specifically, she was the twelfth daughter of a Greek shipowner with too much money and too much free time, with an army of daughters that could dwarf a soccer team.
She was also, in some way, of royal blood. Not that he ever understood the degree of kinship with the former king of Greece, or the importance of it, but Thetis loved to rub it in his face at every opportunity.
"It may have missed me."
Achilles found himself smiling, "Be serious. It's important!"
"I'm listening to you. Thetis is Greek. So what?"
“So mom's family has certain traditions. Ancient traditions.”
Patroclus still didn't understand, "What does that have to do with it?"
"My father adapted to tradition, as did my uncle. And even if no one throws apples to woo..."
"Wait a minute. To woo?"
Achilles lowered his eyes, and mumbled, "The ancient Greeks would throw an apple at the girl they intended to woo and marry."
Girls they intended to marry...
...they intended to marry.
To marry...
Patroclus.exe has stopped working.
After rebooting his brain in the face of that revelation, Patroclus said, "Do you want to marry me?"
"Yes, I want it really bad."
"And you wanted to do it in your mother's way."
"Technically, my dad made the offer."
"He did it because your mother would never accept anything less than traditional Greek."
"That's true," Achilles admitted.
"I thought it would be nice to continue the tradition. But I failed."
He didn't like seeing him so downcast. And well, it was true that Achilles had terrible aim but even Patroclus would have had to make an extra effort to get the apple. Or to tap into his roots and figure out what the hell was going on.
Achilles wanted a surprise. He wanted a grand romantic gesture to rival that of his parents and lead to a marriage that would not fall apart.
Well, Patroclus could at least start giving him the surprise.
He picked up the apple from the ground and threw it. Since he was a much better shot, Achilles caught it.
He smirked at him, "Did I do it right?"
Achilles kissed him. He took that for a yes.