I have written this one- shot almost half a year ago now. And I have never wanted to post it for two reason. The main one being that this is an alternate universe for my own fanfics, and the second being the steamy bits, which feel weird to me in the Asterix universe.
Obviously not weird enough not to write this 'cough'.
So why post it now? Simple: because it makes me smile every time I read it again.
The one-shot follows the events in 'Phyllis' and the 'Forest House' and starts from the idea that Asterix finds out Marcus might still be alive. Marcus being Phyllis' first love, and an optio at the Forest House when Mesmeron first set his eyes on the place.
In my fanfic canon, Marcus is dead. That is why this is an alternate universe. I don't like characters coming back from the dead, in general.
So here we go. No violence whatsoever, but mind the rating or your eyes will bleed. I hope you will enjoy reading it like I have enjoyed writing it
Phyllis sat crossed-legged on the double bed, her face a mixture of worry and fascination. Marcus knew she didn't question her own role in this experiment. And why would she. Boundaries had never troubled nor interested her and she trusted both of them. Maybe she even still loved both of them. Her worry was solely for Asterix, who against all odds had agreed to Marcus' request.
The room was lit by several candles, their flames creating life on the wooden walls around them. Windows shut, the hut was now comfortably warm. There was a tension that made it feel slightly hot though.
Marcus knew he would lose when it came to Phyllis having to choose one of them. As a matter of fact, he already had. This was his only option to still have a chance at being with her. And, Minerva, he still wanted that. Dancing with her, forced to keep a tasteful dance, was torture. Everything he had once been offered so freely, and that he had so often dismissed. Ambition above pleasure, time and again. He had been such a fool. Now he wanted it more than ever, and she held it out of reach.
It didn't matter that Asterix had been willing to step aside. Phyllis would never let him. She was fiercely loyal to those she loved, and she loved Asterix more than Marcus had ever seen her love anyone, her own family included.
She was still attracted to him, Marcus could tell. The way she smiled when he shook his hair out of his eyes, when he threw her a smile from the corner of his mouth. There was a happy recognition there that went just a touch beyond friendship. He saw the opportunities. Dreamt of them.
And Marcus didn't fear failure . No matter how slim his chances, he would still have tried. What held him back was that HE himself did not want to break up a couple that felt so deeply right. He loved Phyllis. Phyllis, he would probably not easily find out to which extent, still loved him. But they had never felt right. Not the way she and Asterix did. They could see a future together. Marcus could see a future for them together. And it was a happy one.
One that Asterix had risked. For a chance to erase Phyllis' past demons. For a chance to see someone he only knew from stories find happiness. Both of those were probably true, but either one of them was admirable.
Marcus had not necessarily been happy before finding out Phyllis was still alive, but he had been leading the life he wanted to lead. The life he would have chosen, and that he would probably have ended up living even if Mesmeron had never come around. His dreams of spreading the wealth of the Roman army had died down, just as Phyllis had predicted they would. But his need to create peace had not. Marcus could not stop the Roman invasion. But he would never stop trying to make it see reason. He would never stop trying to make fighting clans see reason. The times he had failed plagued him at night, and the times he had succeeded kept him going. He thrived on those. Lived for them.
He had stopped caring for principles that didn't make anyone happy. He had stopped caring for status, though he had received it well enough. He wanted to spend as much time being happy as he could manage. Phyllis fit that idea like the back of his hand. But destroying Asterix' happiness over it did not.
He had already spent two weeks laughing with the little blonde Gaul, plotting with him, even planning his way back in to Phyllis' heart for Minerva's sake, before he found out she was head over heels in love with said Gaul. A little detail that both Asterix and Obelix had left out as they informed him of Mesmerons' plot and its consequences. They had essentially brought him nothing but good news. And they were fun to travel with, all their bickering and antics included. The bickering. Hilarious, he had found it. They were like an old married couple. He had even informed if they were a couple. To which they had been rather vague in response. He should have suspected something was wrong. Marcus had spent nine years negotiating peace treaties with Gaul clans. When they preferred men, they were always open about it. Finally discovering the truth, he had been furious beyond words, much like Asterix' had expected.
But the proud Gaul, who outwardly had placed himself even above heartbreak, had misunderstood that at least half of that fury had been about the way he had deceived Marcus. Deceived him about what had felt like an uncomplicated friendship. Despite their different political background.
Asterix had deceived him about having found a proud Gaul that did not loath his somewhat flamboyant roman mannerism. That did not loath him being roman to begin with. He had not had to prove himself to the little Gaul. Asterix had treated him like the friend Marcus so often tried to be to people in vain.
When Phyllis had told Marcus about their relationship, he had felt heartbroken. About losing his chance to be with her. The laughter, the carefree evenings filled with pleasant warmth. But also, about what could not possible have been an earnest friendship.
Either Asterix had to have thought Marcus would stand no chance against him, and hadn't given a damn about enlightening him to what he would come home to. Or the little Gaul had to have hated every single word from the former optio's over-talkative lips.
Both options were equally horrifying.
The truth, Marcus had found out only days later. With a little help from the little black spider, still recovering from shock over him being alive. She had shown him the images of his 'death' and he could not blame her. Still, she had managed to set the record straight. There was a choice to be made, and it was not for Asterix or Marcus.
Phyllis held the reigns in this matter.
Reigns that she had not seemed particularly fond of. Even now, in an evening lit by candles and softened by wine, they still weighed on her.
But it was the only right thing to do, giving her the freedom to make that choice. It was a beautiful thing to do. She had had no difficulty making it. Her only regret had been in having to hurt someone over it.
Marcus didn't miss many opportunities, and there had been one right there in that last sentiment.
He had offered to let the little Gaul top, something he felt less sure about than he wanted to be. It was a vulnerable position, and he was still not as convinced as he would like that there was no hidden fury in Asterix' heart.
It did not matter much, since the Gaul had flat out refused. It surprised Marcus that he felt more disappointed than relieved over it. Still, it had been the only thing Asterix had refused. The Gaul had cut their discussion short immediately afterwards.
Even so, if Asterix' motivation remained somewhat of a mystery to both of them, Phyllis had had no trouble setting boundaries. Marcus knew she would not be with him before she was convinced Asterix was comfortable with it. The blonde Gaul looked everything but that. He stood in a corner of the room, leaning against the wooden wall. His expression as unreadable as it had once been friendly.
Marcus had not proposed this to be a spectator in it. And it seemed they didn't expect him to be. But he felt rather vulnerable having to initiate the whole thing. Phyllis being off limits for the time being (why he had placed that burden on himself, he had no idea, but he guessed he feared her rejection most), he had no option but to approach Asterix himself. Marcus very much doubted he would be able to set the Gaul at ease, and had kept him rooted to his spot for now.
"So, what's the idea, Marcus?"
Sweet little spider. If only she could break tension as well as silence.
"The idea is...you do what you usually do, and I join both of you."
"Yeah..." Phyllis glanced at Asterix. She was baffled he was here at all. She did not, even for a second, think he would join her and act 'like usual'.
"Maybe," she started, "You two should first find out whether you really, really want to try this out."
Asterix sighed. It was the first sound Marcus had heard him make at all since they had gone upstairs. He shook his dark curls, gathering his courage. If tonight was doomed, he wanted to find out a soon as possible. He stepped forward until he was right in front of the smaller man that he still hesitated to call his friend. He carefully placed both his hands against the wall, surrounding Asterix' head. Blue eyes caught dark ones, still seemingly unfazed, but so difficult to read right now. And Asterix' lack of action spoke volumes. He seemed all but frozen. Marcus wondered what would happen if he kissed him. Suddenly he wondered how far Asterix was willing to go to make Phyllis happy. He came to a decision, bold at first sight, but it somehow felt less difficult than initiating a kiss that might not be answered.
"Okay, Phyllis," he started, putting both hands on Asterix' hips. Only now Marcus realized, slightly startled, the Gaul did not wear his belt anymore. Despite the tension that was crushing his guts, Marcus gave Asterix the tiniest grin. The Gaul kept answering his gaze, but he didn't smile, his Adams' apple going up and down in a soundless swallow.
Marcus realized he had forgotten the second part of his sentence: "Maybe you should give us some time to do that," he finished.
He gave Asterix one last, somewhat pleading look. "You stop me when I do something you're not okay with?" He received a small nod in reply.
Marcus fell to his knees. He heard a small gasp behind him, and he wondered if the need he kept feeling to strangle Phyllis every single five minutes would ever belong to their past. Their bickering had started all over again even before she had been convinced he was not an illusion. He had meant his earlier words as an invitation for her to leave. But of course, as he carefully, and rather slowly, pulled down the red pants, the witch was still there. He sighed. What had he expected, really?
When he looked at her for a moment before starting his daring first move, he found her eyes locked with those of her lover, and it gave him some reassurance. She would see what he might miss. He let his hands rest on Asterix sides as his lips travelled forward, finding to his relief that there was some level of response from his brand new partner. This might not be as lost a cause as he had feared.
…
Phyllis could not break her eyes away from Asterix. She had expected a kiss, and though she could not blame Marcus for not daring to initiate one, she felt it would at least have fit Asterix' expectations of what he was giving in to. As he had once not trusted Phyllis to know her limits, today she did not trust Asterix to know his. Their conversation echoed in her mind.
"There is no need for you to do this. I love you. I will always choose you."
She had been clear when she told him. She was 100% sure of it.
"But you will be happier when he is, too."
It was 100% true as well.
While she could appreciate a less principled, more carefree version of her dark haired prince (how Marcus had loathed that nickname, urging her to use it time and again) and while she could see how said prince would be attracted to Asterix, she could not envision Asterix giving himself to her past lover. There was simply no scenario to fit that outcome.
And yet, it was what he was doing right now, his blue eyes locked with hers, cheeks flushing more and more. She wondered whether it was because of her watching, or because of the soft wet touches that she knew would slowly become more confident and deep.
Marcus, though she had never seen him interested in men, she had always felt he would be rather successful if he tried. He had the patience and the willingness to please, never rushing towards any goal. Qualities to serve both sides, as he had apparently not failed to discover over the years.
Whether he could win someone as proud, independent as Asterix... Asterix was not into his own sex. She knew that he didn't have trouble with the idea itself, it just wasn't for him. Making this experiment all the more awkward.
He kept closing his eyes for short moments, before opening them to look at her again. Forcing himself to keep contact with her. He looked so ... lonely.
She got up, closing the space between the and found his lips. Standing to his right side, she let her hands travel his over his unruly blonde hair, over his back. She removed his black shirt, since it seemed a tad ridiculous for it to still be there.
One of his hands found her bare skin under the short black nightgown. She leant forward again, and was met with quite hungry kisses and short gasps in between. Phyllis' felt her insides make flips against her stomach thinking about who caused that.
She rested one handed on Marcus' black curls without even thinking about it, deepening her kiss as she did. For the first time since the action had started, she found herself truly lost in it.
…
Asterix was drowning. He had never imagined it to feel this pleasant, but still. That was what it compared to best, lost in a sea of emotions with no shore in sight.
It had started long before today, long before he even considered today. Always the hero. Pursuing a happy ending at any cost. Including his own happy ending. How happy could it be, if he still felt Phyllis squirm every few nights, reliving past pains that she never had time to grieve for before. They had been fainting dreams, but they would never truly disappear. Maybe even Marcus' return would not accomplish that.
It had taken her time to accept the former Optio of the Forest House was alive. Surprisingly long in fact, because she had not trusted her eyes anymore. Marcus had been so much better prepared, knowing about what happened to Phyllis weeks before he actually saw her again. If there was one thing Asterix would have wanted to do over, it was not telling Phyllis the true purpose of their latest adventure. She would have come with them. She would have been prepared. They could have handled it all so much more carefully. And she would not have hidden a relationship that in all honesty, did not deserve to be ignored over possible hurt feelings and jealousy.
Yet that was exactly what Asterix had chosen to do. If he were to truly reset time, there was no him and her. He had wanted to give her that freedom. To start over without him. He hadn't lied. But he had kept Marcus in the dark about an awful lot of things.
It had been a mistake. Both to think he could neglect his own heart that much, or that hers would simply reset itself. Her fury had slowly caught up with that of her former lovers', whose anger had nearly made Asterix recoil as the younger roman yelled at him.
"How could you not tell me?!"
A million times Asterix felt that sentence had been screamed at him. They both had the same reproach directed at him.
Marcus had been hurt. Hurt pride, hurt heart. And he had felt betrayed. Asterix had feared Marcus might feel that way, so it had taken him a while to realize HE was the one who had caused that emotion.
"Why?"
Another question repeated over and over.
"Because he wanted to give me the choice never to tell you. As if nothing ever happened."
Phyllis, knowing Asterix so well by now, had been able to voice the reason that Asterix could not bring himself to name. Quietly and reasonably had she told Marcus. Killing his fury as well as his hope.
Because she had not chosen that option. Even when she felt Asterix was foolish for thinking she would, she had spent not one night not by his side. Consoling Marcus at day time, as they reassembled their separate lives, she returned to Asterix every night, relishing his arms. Nothing had changed.
Asterix had been beyond himself with relief. He had taken this mission prepared for a different outcome. No matter the cost. He had cast his feelings aside, even managing a friendship with the handsome roman, centurion by now. Who was still set on making a peace corps out of the Roman army. It should have warned Asterix that the man was completely insane.
Marcus had already been preparing his return to Toutatis knew where, when three days ago, he had cornered Asterix to propose his mental idea. Leaving him, Asterix, to decide over whether to go along with it and on what terms. He had been too stunned even to say no.
Asterix had nothing to gain. Marcus knew that. He had admitted to it immediately. But it had not kept him from asking. Rather receiving a no than not trying at all. The move itself felt bold and brave and if there was one thing that never failed to catch Asterix' attention, it was bravery.
The second thing he was rather sensitive to, was setting things right. And never mind the craziness behind Marcus' idea, it still was the only option that Asterix could envision to leave no lingering regret with any of them. Of course, it could become something for all of them to regret as well. But if he himself decided to go along with it, he knew Phyllis would be tempted to make Marcus smile again. It was a dashing smile to miss out on, after all.
Marcus led a life Phyllis had zero interest in today. One of schemes and theatrics and that much plotting one had a hard time to imagine an earnest person behind it. Yet from the very first moment, Asterix had sensed sincerity behind the roman who had one day risked his life to save the woman who was today the love of Asterix' own life. Given that, he had been inclined to trust Marcus from the start. But he did see a man still as fully engaged in his missions as Asterix had once been in his own.
Even if they had been missions Asterix could agree with, he still had different dreams today. Phyllis shared many of them. She had called him a fool for being willing to give up on them. She was right. He had known the moment pain radiated from her eyes when he had offered her a way out of the life they now led together, and he had wasted no time apologizing for it. Begging nearly for her forgiveness. Which, thank Toutatis, he had received quite easily.
Their future together would be secure. Once they had bitten the sour apple of watching a former lover and what, in different circumstances, could have been a trustworthy and entertaining friend, leave them to return to a task easily as heavy as protecting a village against a roman invasion.
Why waste a chance of turning a sad goodbye into something else? A memory, possibly a fond one? Asterix was sure that this was what it could be for Phyllis. He had no idea what it could be for him. He couldn't reason with his emotions. He had tried and failed that before. He would have to wait and see. But he had always been a warrior, and if this ending could be happier for any of them, he was willing to try.
Not that he wasn't almost ready to jump a cliff to ease the nerve-wrecking stress from the idea alone. But still, he had decided to try, so he would. No matter what. He had his doubts. About Marcus' still lingering resentment over his silence. About the reasons behind his request. About seeing the centurion with a woman he, Asterix, seemed to love more than sanity itself. He trusted Phyllis enough with his heart not to make that a deal-breaker though.
He had refused both of their attempts to set rules. Marcus's first idea had quickly convinced him that if they continued their conversation, Asterix would say no so many times they would end up playing cards. And Phyllis…she had chosen him. He had already given her the freedom to choose otherwise, without losing him as a friend. It felt ridiculous to set rules after having been prepared for that.
Asterix had almost laughed at Marcus' obvious discomfort tonight. All charms and quick thinking, the man had a little more trouble acting than he had speaking. But Asterix had kept his tongue, because he knew there would be action sooner or later, and though he would rather bite said tongue clean off than admit it, he was downright frightened. Of all of it. Seeing them be together. Having to act himself. It all felt so difficult.
They hadn't touched each other yet, and he hadn't acted yet, and this scenario was already one he hadn't envisioned. Two people, twice as many sensations. While Marcus' initiative had startled him to the point of almost retreating before they even touched, he had bit back that impulse. A fleeting memory of Valerius's mocking words had a similar effect on him. Memories that he would not give in to for the life him. But he was still overjoyed at Phyllis' intervention, that confirmed so clearly they were in a far different setting today. Her ever welcome attention distracted his over-active mind, and he finally allowed his senses to take over. Damn.
"You okay?" Phyllis whispered in his ear, after a series of delicious kisses.
He nodded. "You?" he whispered back, not trusting his voice to be steady.
'Obviously,' he added mentally, but still, it had to be weird for her to see both of them.
She snickered. "As long as you don't forget about me.…."
He was NOT going to forget about her. It was surprisingly difficult to find it in himself to stop Marcus though. He rested his hand on the side of the roman's face for a moment, before taking his shoulder and guiding both of them towards the comfort of the bed.
He was, for some insane reason, the only one NOT wearing clothes. He grabbed Phyllis' gown, and she instantly raised her arms to assist him in getting rid of it. She welcomed his hungry kisses, now free to explore, eagerly as ever. He had never thought anything capable of distracting him from that. But his eyes drifted to Marcus now. Suddenly he remembered the roman's earlier uneasiness. On instinct, he moved aside a little. Phyllis caught his idea, and opened her arms towards Marcus, beckoning him closer.
Marcus gave her wry smile: "Yeah. I need a little more than him not killing me to believe that's a good idea, little spider."
Maybe it was because the memory of those fine lips still lingered. Or maybe it was just his guts taking over, as it tended to do. But Asterix reached out for the loose white shirt, getting hold of a fistful of fabric that he pulled closer quite forcefully, before trying to get it off completely. Because Marcus was taller than him, and too stunned to react, it got stuck around the roman's hands, trapping him, as Asterix pulled them down, initiating the kiss Marcus had not dared to give him.
It felt different. It even smelled different. But not as different as Asterix had imagined. Not as difficult to enjoy either. Especially when he had the satisfaction of glancing at a thoroughly baffled, slightly flushed face in between. Stunning people never failed to amuse him. It tempted him to let his other hand, the one not trapping Marcus' arms in his own fancy shirt, travel down.
Marcus met his lips, preferring to answer this unexpected turn of events instead of freeing himself. And then there was the fondling and Marcus moved his hips to meet it. He felt Asterix' hand hesitate as soon as he did. Marcus felt a twinge of disappointment. His hands still trapped, he glanced sideward at Phyllis, and he started grinning the moment he saw her expression. He could swear there was saliva in the corner of her mouth. Marcus broke the fading kiss and tilted his head towards Phyllis. IF Asterix was only in this to please her, at least he should have the satisfaction of knowing he had reached that goal.
Asterix actually snickered seeing her.
"You're drooling," he informed her, loosening his grip on Marcus in the process.
She flew into a sitting position. "Stop! I mean, don't! Don't stop!" She extended her hands, touching both their faces, sighing as she did. "Ok, just checking," she murmured.
Checking for illusions. Despite her mocking tone, Asterix felt the overwhelming need to protect her, shield her from any more harm. Phyllis had defeated Mesmeron. Only today they realized how fully the odds had been out of her favour.
But Marcus captured her first, past caring for anything other than meeting her lips. This kiss was nine years overdue and he'd be damned if he didn't give it to her tonight. Phyllis fell back on the bed as she met his embrace.
"Marcus."
Her voice still echoed disbelief.
More kisses. She stroked his chest, his hair, and he relished it. He inspected her upper body, his temper flaring when he discovered the faint but wide scar in the middle of her chest. How he could have fallen for any trick that had left her to fight on her own...he would never stop regretting that.
A soft kiss was all he had to offer the tender skin that had suffered far too much. She captured his face, redirecting him towards her lips. In the middle of their second kiss, he felt her gasp, bucking slightly. Apparently Asterix had far less interest in watching them, and had found himself another occupation.
One of her hands travelled south, meeting blonde locks this time. Though she couldn't see him now, she barely had to close her eyes to see the perfect picture they had been together. There was something undeniably attractive about the contrast in their hair, eyes, skin, even their politics. There was contrast between Phyllis and Asterix too, but it was softened by Phyllis' mixed parentage and the fact that they shared their view on the world. They had more common ground.
'Asterix and Marcus share nothing. Apart from a good heart. And at the moment, me.' She giggled, gasped again and was lost to thinking moments after. As much pain as there was in the past, there was only pure bliss right now.
"Asterix."
She called his name rather pleadingly, waves of ecstasy still trembling through her legs. He recognized both the tone and the message, and he complied instantly. It had rather amused him, pleasuring her like this, already knowing from his own experience how much more there was to feel. Knowing that for Phyllis, there was not the awkwardness he himself had had to deal with, only made the idea sweeter. He had watched her. He knew that memories of tonight would be able to drive away any past illusion planted by Mesmeron.
She wanted him to be closer now, and he wanted nothing more. Her kiss, her body, her hands, he wanted it all for himself for a moment, and he got exactly that. Their rhythm so easy and right. It was enough. It would always be enough.
But tonight there was more.
He had all but forgotten about Marcus. Until he felt the soft kisses on his shoulders, his back, the stroking hands. Once again, he was right in the middle of their attention. Phyllis' arms were wrapped firmly around his neck, her mouth travelling between his neck and his mouth. The rest of her body still utterly relaxed from her earlier peak.
Asterix himself found it more and more difficult to focus. He had been so close, but the touches behind him, while not unpleasant on their own, were distracting him because he had no idea where they would lead.
"Tell me to stop."
Marcus voice was a hush, and despite the phrasing, it was obviously a request, not a command. It managed to distract Asterix completely as the Centurion's hands travelled towards his behind, so excruciatingly slow. If only he knew what he was in for, he could decide on that request and get his focus back where it belonged. With Phyllis. Despite her spikey character, she felt only sweet and soft and safe now. If Marcus kept advancing at this pace, she would be asleep before he had made up his mind.
Patience was his weakness. It always had been and it always would be.
"Marcus, could you move ON?"
He had said it through gritted teeth, irritation masking his worry. Phyllis opened her eyes, catching Marcus' startled expression. She closed her eyes again, and felt the mattress underneath them shift as Marcus let himself fall down beside them, as she knew he would. He propped himself up on one elbow, staring at them.
Asterix sighed.
"I asked you to move on, not to stop."
Marcus smiled at the discomfort in the Gaul's expression. They were finally at a point where Asterix could no longer mask his true emotions. It felt oddly satisfying.
"And this is me, dismissing that comment to the realm of award-winning bad ideas. Along with 'Let's not tell Marcus I'm shagging his former girlfriend nowadays."
Phyllis hit him with the back of her hand. Right on his nose. It hurt.
"Why?"
Asterix had slid off of Phyllis, which probably explained why she had chosen to hit him. His arm was still draped over her, but he was watching Marcus.
"Because it would hurt of course!" Marcus said, shaking his head. "You're tense. Probably because you're not into men," he mused.
Phyllis slapped her forehead: "You really think that could be the reason? Marcus, you are such a genius."
Marcus beamed at her: "I missed that. Pillow talk. Most people can postpone the insulting for moments like this. But not you. You never could."
"Exactly how many 'people' are we talking about here?" she informed.
Marcus waved his hand dismissively.
"Far less than you think."
He resumed his musing.
"Maybe the magic potion would help? It should make you feel good, no?"
Asterix had nestled against Phyllis, his nose in her hair, disappointed about not being able to conceal his worry. But he snorted at that comment.
"I hope there is still room in that realm of yours. Because that idea definitely belongs there."
Marcus frowned a little, peeking over Phyllis' nose to catch Asterix' eyes. A fruitless attempt.
"Why, were you planning to hit me?"
"As you pointed out, what you are planning might hurt. I have no idea how much. I could hurt you. Or her." He stressed the last part.
"It is not supposed to hurt! You're supposed to stop me when it does!"
"That'll be fun."
Marcus grinned. Despite his lower region still begging for attention, he was starting to enjoy the argument. He leant over Phyllis, playfully stroking Asterix' hair.
"Are you afraid of disappointing me?"
Phyllis shoved him back quite forcefully.
"Have you actually done this before? Do you have any USEFUL advice?" she asked.
"Have fun?" he offered.
"Marcus!"
"Once or twice."
"You don't forget whether it is once or twice," Asterix cut in.
"I can see why the two of you live together. I really can."
They stopped talking and Marcus felt surprisingly lonely. "Three times," he admitted. "But I've never taken your position. I've never trusted anyone enough to do that. So I have no advice. That's why I proposed to do it the other way around."
He felt Phyllis wriggle her tiny hand under his neck, beckoning him closer. He mimicked Asterix' position, snuggling into her hair. At least there had been no worries about hurting someone with her. She was brutally honest, and it became a good quality right there. If she said things were peachy, there was nothing to worry about.
"Because you trust me?" Asterix asked.
"I wouldn't have asked you to do this if I didn't. You can pinch me out cold."
"With magic potion."
"Which you happen to have, and I happen to have not."
Asterix shook his head. "I'm sorry, I can't do that. I have no idea how." He paused. "I'm not sure I'm ready to see you with her either," he admitted. "I would rather not be in a position to hurt you when you do."
Marcus turned, staring up at the ceiling. "See this? This is the conversation we should have had. Preferably before, and without her around."
"May I offer some advice though?" Phyllis said, rolling her eyes. They both turned at her.
"You two are trying to do too much too fast. We were in a good place. Let's go back to that."
Asterix sighed. "He's going home tomorrow, Phyllis"
"I would hardly call a roman outpost in Britannia home. It's not even good weather there." Marcus commented, almost automatically. He could see it made both of them flinch a little. He shrugged.
"My choice. I'm not going to change it. A lot of freshly conquered villages, that will have a human treatment, if I get a say in it. And I'm going to get a say it. Just watch me."
Asterix did not doubt that for a second. He swallowed a little. There it was again. What had convinced him to say yes to all of this. It had taken him 36 years to meet a roman like this. Challenging his point of view. There was a lure in that that defied sexuality. Something he admired deeply. Something he was indeed afraid to disappoint.
"The point is, that there is little time," he told them.
"But there might be another time," Phyllis offered.
She was probably right. But she could be wrong. There wasn't always time. Asterix' dealings with Valerius flashed through his mind again, this time aiding him instead of meddling with his feelings. He sat up.
"I want to do this. Phyllis is right. We were in a good place. I was in a good place. I'll stop you when I'm not."
Marcus caught his defiant stare, smiling. Asterix had a way with words, He used it less often. But they could level each other when he did. It wasn't the promise Marcus had wanted to hear, but it was close.
"Okay. If I get another kiss. Lets' make her drool again."
Phyllis all but jumped up and down, still draped out in between of them. "Yeah," she beamed. "Let's make me drool again!"
They both snickered.
Asterix suddenly felt giddy inside. He had often wondered about that sixteen year old he had only ever seen mirrored in paintings and stories. He had risked so much to meet that girl. Lifting Marcus's death off her shoulders had not been enough. But tonight, he finally saw more than just of a glimpse of her.
They kissed right above her head. Phyllis did not move a muscle, not wanting to alter a single thing about the sight. But they had her panting again before assuming their original positions, pausing for careful caresses between them every now and then.
Asterix sank into her, almost sighing. He needed her to be his anchor for the night. And she was more than willing to assume that role.
Marcus' weight was on top of him. His hands now travelling both him and Phyllis. Providing more caress, more sensation. Asterix' let his hands slide over the slender roman's upper legs in support. He couldn't manage much more contact in this position, but it made all the difference in the world. He felt Marcus's stomach rest on his back, his arms around his chest.
Phyllis gasped as Marcus's fingers found their way between them. Finding her moisture. Always with a purpose. But he didn't hesitate to play her just a little. She clinged to Asterix, moaning in his ear. It distracted him, but he was still a little nervous as he felt Marcus position himself. Asterix let himself sink a little deeper inside her. He could stop this. He didn't want to, but he could. That was enough.
It wasn't exactly the most comfortable feeling he'd ever experienced, but it didn't hurt. Marcus' restrained moan helped a bit. The roman was now deadly still behind him. Asterix shivered. He really couldn't help it. Phyllis was rubbing his arms, pulling him closer again, and he welcomed her embrace. Marcus followed, not moving inside of him. It was Phyllis who could really have used some magic potion, Asterix realized vaguely, having to support their combined weights. He leant back a little, into Marcus, who let out a strangled moan at the minimal movement. Asterix grinned. He started moving against Phyllis again. Marcus followed suit. Phyllis' moans intensified so rapidly he got her over the edge before even thinking about it, much like before. He gritted his teeth as she clenched around him, Marcus moving against him at the same time. Two rhythms, one frantic and lost, one still restrained, but accompanied with needy touches. The shivering returned, and he lost power over his arms, leaning into Phyllis, who took the rhythm out of his hands. Thankfully, Marcus did not mimick her. Instead he took her hands, pinning them to the bed, setting a slow, and careful pace. As soon as Phyllis adopted it, he let her go, and she enveloped Asterix in her arms, shushing his shivers. Phyllis had never felt him like this. Scared, vulnerable. Aroused. Completely out of control.
There was way too much too feel. It distracted him. Threw him off course. Only when Phyllis' rhythm followed Marcus' it seemed to come together in one dazed state off ecstasy. Their hands, stroking, their mouths, kissing him. His last thought before they were all smashed away, was that it paid off to be brave.
…..
Marcus retreated as he felt Asterix' peak slowly wash away. His entire body screamed at him that he was an idiot. He let himself fall beside the seemingly exhausted couple. After a few minutes, Phyllis met his eyes. Asterix on the other hand, still had his firmly closed. Phyllis still held him close, but he had moved off of her, laying on her side.
Phyllis smiled at Marcus's ill-disguised frustration. She sat up, reaching for the water and cloth beside the bed. She wrung it slightly, before letting it trail across the muscles of his belly, following the trail of black hair to where she knew attention was needed most.
"Damn, that's hot," he commented.
It was. Phyllis despised cold. So she had placed the bowl of water above a thick candle, that could last all night. Her hand had hurt touching the water to reach for the soft cloth that now enveloped Marcus' length, and the heat still lingered.
She glanced at Asterix, and she saw he had opened his eyes to discover what exactly was hot. Once his curiosity was satisfied, he closed them again, and Phyllis ran her hand up and down a few times before sweetening the sensation with her mouth. Marcus had not reached his peak yet, but she immediately noticed he was close. Slowing the pace, she gave him time to recover before making him moan again. Sure enough, it only took a few repetitions from her side before her ever-curious boyfriend was no longer able to keep his eyes closed. Asterix eyes wandered between her actions and Marcus face, but she noticed they kept lingering on her teenage crush.
Who was now moaning in ecstasy again, and she felt he had more than deserved his release. Picking up pace and pressure, she made sure he found it moments later, and didn't leave him until his body felt as relaxed as her own.
Phyllis snuggled in between them. If only for tonight, it was a perfect place to be.
….
The next morning, Marcus' peeked through his lashes, carefully shielding the rising sun from view. Had that window really been open last night? He very much doubted it.
Phyllis was a tangled mess of hair and sleep beside him. Once she was down, it took calling upon the gods of several religions to wake her.
Asterix was nowhere to be seen.
"Phyl? Phyl!"
"MmmH?" She didn't move, and if Marcus hadn't been shaking her shoulder, she would probably not even have made this much noise.
"Asterix is gone."
"He gets up early."
She was halfway back to sleep before she realised Marcus was getting dressed.
"What are you DOING?" she moaned. If they were both up, she really couldn't afford to sleep in. She wouldn't miss the awkwardness between them for the world.
"I'm going to see if he's all right."
"Go back to sleep, you moron. He'll wake us."
Marcus ignored her, rushing down the stairs.
…..
"Phyl? Phyl!?"
Asterix would know better than to wake her like this. Especially twice. He knew all about soft kisses and breakfast, and no speech. Potion making did not always allow her to sleep in, but when it did, Asterix knew exactly how to make it the feast it was to her.
But this was her annoying drama queen ex-lover. Who, one a side note, still managed to create some magic. She decided to be kind.
"Yes?"
"They were having breakfast. Asterix and Obelix. Well, roast boar actually."
"Yes, that's breakfast."
"Why is he there, and not here?"
"Because Obelix' is easier to seduce into a morning hunt. He actually likes to sleep in too, but Asterix always traps him with the breakfast argument."
"But…"
"Probably already checked the roman outpost too, while he was at it," Phyllis added, turning on her other side. Soft feathery pillow. Sweet pillow. She closed her eyes again and snuggled her nose against it.
Marcus sat down on the bed.
"Are they saving us some food?" she murmured, realizing he would never let her fall asleep again. "Obelix knows I usually bring some myself, so he tends to keep something aside."
"They didn't see me! I didn't ask! I have no idea how much the big guy knows about last night anyway."
Phyllis turned back, facing him. "Well-developed," she provided. "And he probably knows nothing yet."
"Yet?"
"They tell each other everything. Eventually."
"Well, I guess this will be an exception. Won't it?"
"I wouldn't count on it."
"What will be an exception?" Asterix' voice cut in from below the mezzanine. They both heard him climb the stairs, the feathery wings on his helmet being the first sight to meet them.
"I brought breakfast," he announced, carrying a tray of goat milk, roast boar and bread. He placed it on the end of the bed before planting a kiss on Phyllis' forehead.
"Does he want cake in return?" Phyllis asked.
"Impedimenta's cake. Very important detail." Asterix answered.
"Why are we talking about cake?" Marcus informed.
Asterix smiled at him as he sat down on the bed as well. It left Marcus rather flushed. "What did YOU want to talk about?" he asked.
"Last night?"
"Being exceptional?"
"Well….was it? As in, being an exception?"
Asterix rolled his eyes. "You can be the exception."
"I like that," Marcus beamed.
"If you manage not to die."
Marcus smile faltered.
"Which won't be that easy," Asterix continued, undisturbed, "Since you insist on seeing the roman army for something it is not. So ask for our help if you need it. And I do mean YOU."
Phyllis had finally managed to part with her pillow and attacked the freshly baked bread.
"He means he's not going to invade villages to add a few feathers to your shiny helmet," she clarified between bites.
"Yes, little spider, I got that. Since it really doesn't sink in your combined heads that I don't DO invasions, maybe I should tell you that when a situation like that ever arrives, I won't need your help. I will need you to stop me."
Asterix shook his head. "You're insane."
Marcus had finally turned his attention to the food, stealing a rather appetizing piece of meat from under Phyllis' nose. "Yes. But I'm resourceful. And persuasive. Let's not forget that."
Asterix doubted he would ever forget. It was no use pressing the issue today. In the long term, pursuing your own agenda in the Roman Army could not possibly hold. Especially when that agenda went against the emperor's himself. And Marcus' had been far too quick finding the benefits of their friendship. His plotting sometimes failed. Today he had a safety net. Asterix had not doubt the Centurion would not hesitate to use it if the alternative was mass murder. Maybe then, Marcus would be more willing to see it was a trick he could not pull countless times. It meant he had to let himself fail. And even if Marcus could accept that, Julius Caesar would not.
….
They said their goodbyes, at the village gates, at noon. With polite hugs, and an attempt at atrocious singing that was quickly hammered into the ground. As usual. At night, it was relaxing to find everything as easy and uncomplicated as it had become between the two of them again. There was a unspoken marriage proposal, still pending, postponed due to recent discoveries, but it would find its way soon.
Asterix mentioned Marcus once or twice, and he found a smile on Phyllis' face when he did. No longer sad. That was the easy victory.
The second would be more complicated. It was hard to envision Marcus' turn away from a mission he believed in so forcefully, and as Phyllis had not failed to remark to Asterix, it was part of the roman's appeal. What had, it seemed a lifetime ago, brought her to pursue him. She had never truly tried to talk Marcus away from his association with the Roman Army. It would have given them a future together. But she was afraid not to be attracted to him once he gave up on something he was this passionate about.
Asterix saw that trap. He was even somewhat inclined to fall for it. But he wouldn't. Marcus could have his support when there was need for it, but there would be consequences. Sooner or later. There was nothing Asterix valued more than freedom. His own, and that of others. It required letting them make their own mistakes and letting them learn their own lessons. It took patience, and he hated that. But he could be patient. And he would be. And the future would be all the more interesting for it.
In my original stories, Marcus was/is alive, and I have written several short fanfic parts where I explored his character. And he has grown sooooo much on me. He around his thirties here. In my original stories, both him and Phyllis are a lot younger. And they are just friends. Well, friends with a giant F that is. The kind of friends that Asterix and Obelix are. I'm not sure they will ever be love interests to each other, since I have other plans for them by now. And I discovered them while writing this piece. Which has given it a special place in my heart.