fortis cadere, cedere non potest

[al_shairan]

Several years ago, when Flavius Sulpicius Allectus is a young man returning from serving as tribunus laticlavius in Parthia. Having been away from Excolo for three years, tonight he visits the house of his patron and friend, Potitus Icilius Tetricus Crassipes...

I stand in the atrium of Tetricus' house. It feels strange, almost stranger than my return to my own home. I spent so many evenings here that it was more a home to me in my late boyhood and early manhood than my own house, but it has been years since I have been here. It looks the same, and different, and I find I am nervous.

It is not a very manly thing, to feel this way, especially not for a returning soldier. I am in uniform - I have not been decommissioned yet, officially, and I also had the idea that Tetricus might like to see it before I put it away and seek out my next position as a quaestor. I think I am done with the army, but Tetricus got me there, and it might please him to see the cuirass and striped tunic I wore as tribune. And I have the sense that I look well in it, which should not really matter to me but somehow seems to. I am quite certain Tetricus and I have put our former relationship behind us. No man of his standing would want to continue - being with a man of my age in that way, and now I am no longer so very young I should not want it. The first few months in Parthia I found I did miss being in bed with him, but that faded as it should, as my own tastes changed and grew into manhood. I am not delighted now by the idea of lying back on a couch with a man on top of me. I had - other experiences in Parthia that showed me that. Those experiences were not altogether what one expects of an Excolan man, but I think I am in all other regards manly enough for people to turn a blind eye to it. What I found was that I missed him. Our friendship has grown in our absence from one another, which is strange. Perhaps it was easier to talk when he was not distracted by my beauty and I was not so shy of his status. It is easier, often, to be honest on the page. Or so I have found. We are friends now truly, I think, more than we were before. I hope that translates into everyday life. That alone must explain my nerves, surely.

Adjusting my helmet under my arm, I wait for the slave to return with Tetricus.

Comments

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

I nearly bite my own tongue when his presses against my anus. To do such a thing to me - for me - it is beyond anything I had imagined. I want to tell him not to debase himself so, but the sound he makes is all pleasure.

His tongue presses inside me.

It feels like - I do not know. I have no words for it. He is inside me, as no one has ever been, and I should feel lowered by it and yet it is his mouth - I am confused and shaking, and most of the shaking is pleasure. His hands are firm on my buttocks, and I do not mean to but I press back towards him. "Al- Allectus." My voice is hoarse and shaking. "Oh, sweet Venus. Please."

I have never said that to him in such a way before.

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

He is pushing back against me, gods above, pushing back while he trembles, and the way he says my name - I can feel sweat break out on my forehead, exhilaration and desire together, and I draw back, looking around for -

There. A flask of olive oil stands on the table, and I pour some onto my trembling hands. The smell reminds me of other times in this house, when Tetricus would slick himself then lie on top of me. I move back between his legs, and I ease first one finger and then a second inside him. He is so hot, and the sound he makes -

I hardly recognise the choked sound I make as my own voice.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

He pulls away, first his face and then rising from the couch. I twist to see what he is doing, and the reality of it -

I will admit, to myself, that I am not unafraid. I remember, absurdly, the first time I had intercourse with Calida, the pained sound she made. But I will not show my apprehension, or any lack of trust in him, and so I part my legs a little further so that he can fit between them. I must wrestle with my own pride to do so, this yielding I have long believed unfit for me.

Despite my determination I bite my lip a little, where he cannot see, and grunt in my chest as he pushes an oily finger inside me. The sensation of being - penetrated - is so new, so strange to me that I can hardly understand it, if it is pleasure or discomfort. I have barely had time to get used to it when he pushes another in. The stretch of it feels obscene, but it does not hurt.

My breath is coming fast and hard. My skin is slick with sweat. I think that there is no physical pleasure in this, but that I can understand none the less why women and some men crave it, the intimacy of it, when he moves his fingers a little, slow slide and press deeper. I hear the startled sound I make. There is a slow warm building in me, and it is pleasure. I do not push back, not yet, but I brace myself, let him press deeper still. Allectus.

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

He makes a sharp sound of surprise, but does not move away. My free hand strokes his arse soothingly - but firmly, so he will not think I am treating him like a woman. I keep moving my fingers inside him, moving them apart a little to stretch him. I do this for a while, until he moves back against me, until I can tell that he gets pleasure from it.

"Yes," I say, without thinking, breath coming hard. "I want to come inside you," I say thickly. "I want to feel you push back against my prick." I do not want him to passively take it, or to think that I want him to lie still as a woman might. I very carefully move a third finger into him. "Tell me if you want it," I say. It is a courtesy to ask, because I would not act against his will - but more than that, I want to hear him ask for it.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

"I want to come inside you. I want to feel you push back against my prick." The words send a hard shudder through me, part disgust and part desire. Nothing i have ever done has felt so filthy, so debauched, and I have hardly led an innocent life.

Bu the roughness in his voice, the teasing stretch of his fingers, the heat of him there between my legs. I do not understand how I want it, and yet I do. Want him.

"Tell me if you want it," he says, as if he could hear my thoughts. It is not in Allectus' nature to goad me to shame, and so the question is honest, not meant to humiliate.

I wish that I could look at him better, rather than this twist over my shoulder so that his fingers move inside me, gods. I look him in the eye as firmly as I can. I do not think I am a man to shy from honesty myself. I will meet this head on.

"I want it." My voice is very hoarse, but true. I add, as in my thoughts: "I want you." I do not say please, this time. I am not asking him for this as something he has the power to grant, I will not come as a suppliant. I will only tell him my desire.

I push myself up onto my knees, and the muscles in my thighs are braced and hard.

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

"I want it. I want you."

That he says that meeting my gaze - a hard shudder passes through me, and I breathe out shakily. I have done this before, but no one has looked me in the eye and said they wanted me to fuck them. It is - I do not know how to describe it, how it makes me feel.

He gets onto his knees, arms braced against the couch. This is better than him lying on his belly. I look at the hard line of his thighs, his prick stiff against his stomach, and when I stroke my prick with oil I breathe in between my teeth.

I want to tell him to tell me if it hurts too much, but I am afraid he will think I am judging him as a woman to be coddled. I pray I will notice if it is too much for him, that I will not have passed beyond the bounds of reason.

I get behind him, and I part his cheeks with one hand and press my prick up against him with the other. His arse is slippery with oil, and I close my eyes for a moment. Then, holding onto him as best I can with one hand, I push the tip of my cock inside him.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

I feel the nudge of his prick between my cheeks, and for a moment I think to say no but I do not. And then he pushes, and it is strange, strange: it hurts, but not unbearably so, but mostly I am thinking how well I know how this feels from the other side, pushing into someone else's flesh. It is a curious doubled sensation that sets my prick twitching against my belly, and I let out a harsh huff of breath.

He pauses, and I have time to become accustomed to the sensation. It is not so very bad. As with his fingers, it is not yet pleasurable, but it is intense enough that I cannot dwell on what it means to have him within me.

I remember what he said he wanted, and how his fingers felt better deeper. I take a breath and push back against him slowly, teeth gritted. I am breathing fast and hard through my nose. A little further; further still. I shift a little, trying to find the sensation of before, the pleasure, tilt my hips.

Less discomfort at this angle, and I take a breath and push back hard and smooth, taking him deep inside with a groan. I feel the coarse brush of his pubic hair against me, and think with astonishment: Allectus' prick is inside my arse.

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

He takes me inside him. I have a brief, startling moment of thinking I am fucking Tetricus, and it is almost absurd. He was the first man to touch me intimately, and now -

He presses back against me a little, and I groan, thoughts fleeing. He shifts against me, seeking his own pleasure, not just accommodating me, and oh gods, that is good, that is good, yes. Yes. And then he is bearing down against me hard and slow, until I am in him to the hilt, and I make a strangled sound, fingers on his hips.

"Tetricus - " I breathe, voice hoarse, and then I pull back and push into him again, a long slow hard stroke that makes me shudder. "Tetricus." I pull back and drive in, faster this time, and I get a hand around his cock, feeling it leak onto my fingers. Oh.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

The sound he makes, the way he says my name and digs his fingers into my flesh, makes all the muscles of my belly tense. And that makes me feel the press of him inside me differently, a full ache that tips over into pleasure as he draws back.

"Tetricus." When he thrusts this time, slow and firm, I feel it again, that pleasure. I think in a confused way how curious that is, that I should feel that from this. His prick is going so very deep into me; my anus is stretched so very taut around him, but I can feel how my passage beyond that yields to him, envelops him, fits itself around him. The contrast in sensations makes me throw back my head, arch my back. No wonder this is thought decadent, sensualist in the Graecian style. It feels so very much and it is not fitting at all and, "Oh."

I think I have never sounded quite like that before.

And then his hand is on my prick and he is driving into me harder. Pain jabs in my belly, and I do not care. I push back onto him as hard as he pushes into me, and I think it would be hard to say which of us is truly fucking the other. Is this what he meant? His hand is oily, almost too slick, and I move faster to try and find the friction I need there with a small frustrated sound.

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

He pushes back against me so hard, and he has thrown his head back, abandoned to pleasure. Oh, gods, Tetricus, I never thought it would feel like so much -

He makes a soft sound, pushing into my hand, and I grip him more firmly, strong strokes against his cock as I push my own prick into him. Yes. Yes. "Yes," I say, and "please," though I do not know what I am asking for, and I feel half-mad with this, the need to be as deep inside him as I can. I am driving into him very hard now - I hope it is not too much - oh, yes, it is so good, so right. I cannot hold off for long, but I must let him come first, I must not disappoint him -

I grit my teeth, and I can feel the tendons on my neck stand out as my strokes get faster.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

I would have thought I would feel triumph when he says, "Please," - that it would be a sign that I have won the struggle, the challenge he put to me - but instead I feel a strange sharp ache in my chest. He is hurting me with his prick, with the slam of his hips, and I do not care. I welcome it.

His hand moves more roughly, and I make a long gritted sound, struggling not to - to whine, like a dog. I can feel it building, wild and fierce, that most intense pleasure, and when it comes I have to strangle my cry so it does not ring through the building.

I am light-headed, almost shaking, as I feel the last drops pulse from me. He slows a little, but I shake my head. "Finish," I say, my voice raw. I want him to finish in me, as he said. Nothing I had ever thought that I would want, but without it this does not feel complete.

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

Oh yes, yes, hearing him sound like that, knowing he is close to coming - it is almost enough to tip me over the edge myself. I feel him come over my hand, and I shudder hard against him. My dear friend, yes. I slow a little, to let him recover for a moment, but he asks me - orders me - to finish. The ragged edge to his voice makes me gasp. Yes, oh this, this - my hips are jerking against him now, and I could not stop if I tried, low rough sounds rising from me. He wants this, he wants me, he who has been so much to me for so long, my Tetricus -

Somehow that thought is what pushes me into climax, and I give a hard cry as my hips jerk and I spill hot and fast, then collapse against him. Oh, gods.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

Now that I am past the peak his short hard thrusts hurt more, but I can endure them for the sounds he makes, the feel of his hands grinding my hipbones. It is an unsought pleasure, surprising. I do not feel it when he comes, not the spill of him inside me, only the sound he makes and the last drives and twitches of his hips.

He lies heavily against me, and my arms will not hold us both in my state. I let myself down onto the couch, his weight pressing me into it, and we are there in gasping silence for a while, flesh joined to flesh. Our sweat is mingled, and I have never felt so close to another person.

After a little time I move under him, needing to stretch my muscles. And to make some sense of this, though I do not yet feel the horror that I thought would come.

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

We lie together, and I am not sure I have ever felt quite like this, so satisfied - not just in body, but in mind. It feels, somehow, like resolution.

After a time he shifts under me, and so I roll off him onto my side. I drop an arm across him, stroke his back a little. I hope he does not now regret what we have done.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

We rest against each other so easily, as if there had not been years between this and the last time we touched. It eases some of the concern that's growing in my belly.

"Allectus - " I say at last. I am reaching for words, unsure how I feel. "That - I have never done that."

It is a foolish thing to say; he knows I have not. A thought comes on the heels of it: "Who taught you that?" What other men have touched his skin? - did someone do that to him, drive down upon him and push themselves inside - the thought disturbs me.

His hand on my back is steadying. My arse and thighs feel sticky-slick with cooling oil, unpleasant.

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

"That - I have never done that."

He turns his head to look at me, and I stroke him more firmly to reassure him. I feel very tenderly toward him in this moment.

"Who taught you that?"

I set my elbow on the couch and put my chin on my hand.

"No one taught me," I say. "Not in the way I think you mean, as you - as you taught me the earliest pleasures that did not come from my own hand. I had no - mentor in this." There is no other you in my life, Tetricus. I rest my hand on the small of his back. "On my arrival in Parthia, my legatus (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Legatus_legionis) made it clear that he desired me. He propositioned me, and I was offended, because he wanted to treat me as his boy, and I knew I had become a man. But there were other men in the camp who were interested in things other than lying between the thighs of a boy, and who had a different kind of intimacy with native men, and with each other. It took me a while to learn this, because it was not widely spoken of, but when I discovered it I found myself fascinated..." My fingers play with the fine hair at the base of his spine. "It seemed to speak to some part of me, a part that had been growing even toward the end of our time together," I say. "A desire to really experience a man's body, its hard muscles and sweat and stubble. People say a man desiring a man is not proper, but to me it seems a union of greater fairness than a man and a boy, or even a man and a woman. Only men are equals, after all, and I wanted - a vigorous equality, a coming together." I feel a little self-conscious as I add: "but I did not really experience that until - now."

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

"I had no - mentor in this." That pleases me more than I expected. To be sure I had thought we had put our relationship behind us, but the idea of someone taking my place is...disturbing to me.

"On my arrival in Parthia, my legatus made it clear that he desired me. He propositioned me, and I was offended, because he wanted to treat me as his boy, and I knew I had become a man."

I half sit up. "What is his name? I shall - " I do not know that I can have him broken, but I can work against him without a doubt. There are many ways to ruin a man.

I fight back my natural - natural? - feeling of revulsion at the men he speaks of. "I found myself fascinated... It seemed to speak to some part of me, a part that had been growing even toward the end of our time together. A desire to really experience a man's body, its hard muscles and sweat and stubble."

I look at him thoughtfully, at his own hard and sweating body. I do not wish to judge him, even with that roil of distaste in my gut. Is it a desire that I have had before?

"I have never thought to seek that out," I say quietly. Perhaps he is simply more imaginative than I. "When I was young, and looked to older men...then, perhaps. Unlike you I had no one to lead me; the man who was my patron acted to me as a father, not a lover." I was never borne down under a man's body as he was, though oh, I had the desire, indeed. Hard muscles and sweat and stubble.

I put that aside long ago.

I am picking my way through thoughts and words, slow and careful. I do not want to offend him, but neither will I offer him dishonesty. "I have been satisfied with the desires I have. Or so I thought. There have perhaps been times when I have wished for something more - vigorous?" This was certainly that.

There were times, too, when he was a boy, that I wished to do more than touch him with my hand. I remember my mouth feeling dry as I looked at his prick, and I still feel shame at that. He was not the only one I felt that for, either. I do not think I can confess that yet.

"But I have been - lonely," I say, to what he says of equals. "I care for Calida deeply, and she is an admirable helpmeet, but...."

I take a breath, and put a hand over his heart. "I am disturbed by this, my friend," I say honestly. I mean afraid, though I will not say it. "And it is strange to me that I must look to you as a guide, given what has been between us. A vigorous equality - I did not think to seek for it in bed."

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

"What is his name? I shall - "

I shake my head.

"There is no need," I say. "He tried to make my life miserable after I refused him, but I bore it as a man should, and he tired of it. And I had more affection from the men than he did, in part because they saw that he abused me, too. It gave us a sort of bond."

"I have never thought to seek that out. When I was young, and looked to older men...then, perhaps. Unlike you I had no one to lead me; the man who was my patron acted to me as a father, not a lover."

"Do you wish you had a lover when you were a boy?" I ask, curious.

He continues talking of desire, and he sounds cautious, so cautious, and it is a stark contrast to his abandon of a little while ago. It makes me nervous, that he will try to explain all this away. But he puts his hand over my heart, and the gesture makes me breathe out with some kind of relief.

"I am disturbed by this, my friend. And it is strange to me that I must look to you as a guide, given what has been between us. A vigorous equality - I did not think to seek for it in bed."

"I cannot go back," I say seriously. "That does not mean," I say, feeling awkward, "that if on occasion you should want to - do what we did before, that I would refuse you outright. But I cannot be your subordinate now." I think it would break my heart, but that is too foolish to say. His hand is warm on my chest, and I put my own hand over his heart. "In bed as in the rest of my life," I say, "I want the - manly affections of a dear friend, someone who understands my mind and heart, and, yes, my body." I drop my hand. "But it is a great deal to ask, and although - although what we have just done was a great pleasure, if it risks your friendship I would not have it."

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

He declines my offer of revenge. Well, that is his right, and I understand what he is saying. But I will bear the knowledge in mind, and should I find a chance - well. I promise nothing.

"Do you wish you had a lover when you were a boy?"

He did the same thing in his letters: go to the heart of what I have not said, swift and sure. "I would be different now," I say thoughtfully, "in this matter. I had - desires like those you speak of. Or no - "

Gods help me. I sit up a little, and it is hard for me to look at him. "I have not thought on it for many years. I have tried not to. I think I did not desire the equality you speak of." It has been a bitter shame in me for so very long.

"But it was a boy's desire. I put it aside, tried not to think on it." I do not know why I added the last - surely I have not thought on it at all.

"I cannot go back. That does not mean that if on occasion you should want to - do what we did before, that I would refuse you outright." I remember how I thought on that, how strange a thought it seemed. "But I cannot be your subordinate now."

Does that mean he wishes to always be the - dominant partner? But he presses his hand over my breast: "In bed as in the rest of my life, I want the - manly affections of a dear friend, someone who understands my mind and heart, and, yes, my body. But it is a great deal to ask, and although - although what we have just done was a great pleasure, if it risks your friendship I would not have it."

I look at him steadily. I am troubled, but - "It would take a great deal for you to lose my friendship, Allectus."

It is not what he is asking.

I breathe out hard. It is a hard thing to say. "I think I...could not be your friend alone, with what we have shared tonight."

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

"I have not thought on it for many years. I have tried not to. I think I did not desire the equality you speak of."

I want to soothe him, but I dare not, lest he thinks I patronise him.

"But it was a boy's desire. I put it aside, tried not to think on it."

"This is different," I say gravely. "Even if you wanted - It would still be different. Because of my regard for you."

"It would take a great deal for you to lose my friendship, Allectus."

My stomach tightens, waiting for him to say but. His face is so very grave that I cannot expect anything other than a rejection. And then he surprises me:

"I think I...could not be your friend alone, with what we have shared tonight."

I feel as if something is unfurling inside me, and at first I do not recognise it for what it is - for joy. It is an almost solemn feeling, and so I do not smile as I take his face in my hands.

"My dearest and best of friends," I say. "In all things." And I kiss him.

[tezcatl-ipoca.livejournal.com]

He holds my face and kisses me. And this time I meet his kiss readily, and it is sweet. A strange word between men, but I can think of no other. "My dearest and best of friends. In all things."

His kiss has made my heart beat faster, but it is not like the desire of before. I put a hand on the back of his neck, rest my forehead against his. "In all things." It is like a vow.

I draw back a little, though my hand still curls around the strong warmth of his neck. "It is curious," I say. "It was your homecoming, and yet I find something of that in my own heart."

[al-shairan.livejournal.com]

"In all things."

His hand is warm against my neck, and I feel my heart beat faster.

"It was your homecoming, and yet I find something of that in my own heart."

My throat works, and for a moment I cannot speak.

"Of all things about returning," I say at last, "it was seeing you again I looked forward to most." I kiss him again, because it is easy to - because it is hard not to, with him so close to me when we have been apart for so long. "I never expected this," I say. "But it feels as if it is something for which I have waited without knowing." I stroke his cheek.