Having watched the fight on the sidelines, Patroclus had been ready to step in at any moment to prevent Achilles from - well, he wasn't sure. Getting angry, trying to re-challenge, something like that but all he did was stalk out of the building with a veritable stormcloud over his head and he sighed, deciding it was... probably for the best that he give Achilles some space for the time being. Not that he was concerned about the other hurting him but it was more that Achilles had never lost a fight before in his life and Patroclus wasn't entirely sure their apartment would be standing when he returned.
He felt a vague sense of pleasure in seeing his opponent knocked out the next round and while she was probably a very nice person who he congratulated at the win, he felt oddly unhappy at seeing Achilles lose, even if it was probably quite good for him in the long run to see that he could lose - aside from the obvious, which Patroclus refused to even think about. He waited for a few more fights before exiting the building quietly and heading back to their apartment, closing the door quietly behind him as he watched Achilles wear a trench into the rug from his pacing. "Achilles," he walked over to him, running his hand up his arm and leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his cheek. "You fought well."