A/N: This takes place a week or two after the film. Slash, Esca/Marcus. Fair warning, a lot of this chapter is fluff. Anyway, enjoy! Disclaimer: Nope, I don't own these characters. I'm only borrowing them.

Love, Requited

Chapter One: Drunken Mistakes

Esca awoke from his sleep with a start. Rustling noises hit his ears, accompanied by shuffling footsteps, some metallic clangs and the distinctive chink of ceramic being hit. He lay on his side, and the noises came to him from behind his back.

There's someone in our room... he thought, still in a groggy state of half-sleep, but strangely alert as well. Slowly, he opened his eyes, being careful not to move a single inch. The orange glow of torchlight covered the whitewashed walls of his and Marcus' bedroom. Esca could see through the window that outside all was still covered by dark of night.

Robbers? If only I could see the intruder... if only I had eyes in the back of my head... Esca gingerly slid his arm, the one he was sleeping on, up his mattress and beneath his pillow. He grasped the knife there, the knife he kept by him at all times for safety. Without making a single sound, save for only the absolute quietest noise of a knife being unsheathed, he pulled the blade out of its sleeve and gripped its bone handle tightly.

Then, like lightning, he jumped from underneath his sheets and quite suddenly stood on two feet, teeth bared and limbs spread into a fighting stance; a true Brigante warrior's pose. His greyish-blue eyes frantically searched the room for the intruder, but found none.

A few yards across the floor from him, Marcus stood, holding an armful of tunics. Esca's arms dropped and his legs shifted back into a normal stance. "Marcus, what are you doing at this hour of the night?" Esca edged around Marcus' bed and stared down at the Roman's feet. "No, Marcus. No!" There lay a large, open drawstring sack which was clear Marcus was filling with his things. Both men moved toward it, but Esca grabbed it first, and pulled it away, throwing it onto his bed behind him. Out poured several knives in different sizes, a rather large skin of wine, several tunics and other items of clothing and Marcus' Centurion chestplate. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"I'd certainly like to ask the same of you," Marcus said, his face twisting into an angry shape. He shifted his weight from side to side, as if preparing to fight. But then he stopped, and his mouth returned to its normal, straight, pensive shape. He sighed and sat down on his own bed, which groaned under him. Esca sat down beside, and saying nothing, stared deep into Marcus' eyes.

"Tell me what's wrong," Esca said softly, although his expression remained as firm and stoic as ever.

Marcus let out a long, heavy breath and sighed, bending forward, resting his elbows on his knees and pressing his hands into his face. A twisted, almost silent mumble escaped his lips, "Dun - won be heer - nimore."

Esca wrapped a hand around Marcus' neck and edged closer. He took hold of Marcus' wrist and pulled the hand away. "Come on, mumbling it's not worth anything. Say it out loud."

"I don't want to be here anymore," Marcus said, sitting up rigidly. "I want to leave and escape this stupid rotting hellhole - this stupid villa - this stupid country! I want to get out!" His voice raised on the last words, and he even growled slightly. Marcus stood up, and his face twisted back into that angry shape. Now he was much louder. "How can I face anyone here? I've risked my life countless times for Rome and - and my father - and..." his eyes closed tight, "you - and my honor has gone straight back down into the gutters!"

Now Esca stood too, his face a few inches from Marcus' and still unwavering. "What does your honor matter anymore? Is this about get getting discharged again? Because if it is-"

Marcus shook his head angrily. Thankfully, he spoke softer; soon enough he might have been loud enough to wake his uncle. He glared at Esca. "Esca, to a Roman, honor is everything."

Esca edged closer to Marcus, close enough he could feel Marcus' breath, and its slightest aroma of wine. "What about being a human? You seemed pretty damn ready to leave without me," Esca whispered fiercely, his face twisting angrily as Marcus' had, "Some human you are, Marcus, casting aside your closest and most loyal friend for some immaterial concept."

Marcus came somehow closer and whispered angrily as well. "Esca, you don't understa-"

Esca cut him off, "Oh! I don't understand, do I? I traveled with you for weeks, through dangerous terrain and hostile territory, risking life and limb to save some Roman I shouldn't have cared about, on his fantastical quest that nearly got him killed straightaway, only because I didn't wish to see you die horribly at the hands of elements or enemies. And you wouldn't call that honorable?" Esca closed his eyes and became calm again. "Marcus, like I said, your honor doesn't matter. Being discharged from the army again doesn't make you dishonorable. And even if it did, how d'you think running away would help?"

Marcus calmed too, his angry expression lightening, but also blushing slightly from the truth of Esca's words. "I threw myself into the hands of death for those fools, to recover the Eagle. And they reformed my father's legion, made me the head!" Both men sat back down on the bed. "And then they have the nerve to discharge me again over my stupid leg!"

"Even they told you it was another honorable discharge, Marcus." Esca's arm slipped back around Marcus' shoulders. "And don't count them ungrateful for returning the Eagle. A healthy pension for the rest of your life-"

Marcus turned his head to Esca and sighed. "But if I'm not destined to be a soldier, what else is there for me?"

"Anything, Marcus," Esca's face screwed up, "or nothing, of course, considering you're being paid for for the rest of your life." He leaned forward, inches from Marcus' face again, smiling. "And you listen here. Don't you ever," he poked Marcus hard in the chest, "try and leave me again. I gave up everything for you and I've made my commitment; I'm sticking with you like your skin sticks to your body."

Marcus chuckled and edged closer to the Briton's face, whispering, "Alright, Esca."

"Promise me you'll do the same," Esca whispered back.

"I solemnly swear to you, Esca, that I will always stay by your side if you stay by mine."

"And I swear by the blood that flows in my veins that I will, Marcus." Somehow, their faces were even closer than before, and Esca could again smell the wine on Marcus' breath, feel the warmth as it spread across his cheek. Marcus stared deeply into Esca's cold, steely blue eyes as Esca stared back into his warm, full brown ones. Something, like a magnetic force, held them there for what felt like days.

And then it happened.

Marcus edged closer still, and Esca surged forth, seeing permission in the Roman's eyes, and their lips met, sending lightning through their cheeks as their faces grew hot. How had they not done this yet? It felt so good, so natural, and they had only been kissing for a second.

Esca felt a tongue trace along the line between his lips, Marcus now asking for his permission. He immediately opened his mouth and felt the wine-kissed tongue intrude it, searching through his every crack and crevice, wanting to taste every inch. Esca battled back with his own tongue, and ran it along Marcus' smooth, perfect teeth. It was nothing short of euphoric for both.

In secret, they both wanted, even needed this contact for as long as their friendship had lasted, but neither told the other for fear of rejection. But now the walls were torn down and the rules thrown away as both men's needs were finally expressed. A few weeks ago, this may have gone faster than either of them would have liked, but now it couldn't come fast enough.

Shifting his weight, Esca pushed Marcus down onto the bed, and Marcus let out a tiny groan as Esca ran his hands through his dark locks. Marcus' hands slipped under Esca's tunic and felt the rippling muscles and scars of his back, making Esca groan in turn.

Esca sat up, and straddled Marcus' chest. Marcus whined feebly at having the kiss broken. Esca stared down at him with the largest, stupidest grin smothering his flushed face. "Mo ghaol, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do that."

"Then whyever did you stop?" Marcus was also blushed beyond belief, his dark eyes like a sad puppy's as they begged Esca silently for more.

"Because," Esca whispered, leaning down, "if this is going to happen, if this is going to be a thing, we're going way too fast. We have to leave some borders uncrossed for the future."

Esca laid on the bed next to Marcus, their bodies touching. Marcus turned his head to Esca and smiled as wide as he could. "But all I want is you, mi flor. I've finally realized it." Marcus fell silent for a second. "To hell with borders!"

Esca climbed back on top of him. "Yeah, you're right." Their lips met again.

Esca woke suddenly again. Birdsong came streaming in through the windows along with the yellow light of sunrise. Knocks came from the door a few yards across from his feet as he lay on his side.

"Master Marcus? Master Esca?" A voice came from behind the door.

Esca, still groggy and with his eyes still closed, said, "Who is it?" His voice was a hoarse croak, his state of half-sleep showing.

"It is Stephanos, sir. Master Aquila would like you to know that breakfast is prepared, if you are ready to eat."

Esca paused for a moment. "We'll be down in a couple minutes, Stephanos," Esca said. The slave's shuffling footsteps became softer as he walked away, until the only sounds in the room were the songs of birds and Marcus' soft breathing, as he lay, still asleep.

Esca opened his eyes and felt suddenly confused. This wasn't his bed. No, he was on the other side of the room, because he wasn't next to the window that he always woke up by, with the fig tree outside with the wrens nesting in it.

Then Esca felt the warmth of an arm wrapped around his middle, and it all came back to him. He and Marcus had spent the night necking, and simply fell asleep here in Marcus' bed, exhausted but filled to overflowing with joy, as their respective insatiable but secret admirations for each other were finally expressed and their fantasies fulfilled. To be brutally honest, despite their motto of 'to hell with borders', the two hadn't made it very far last night, but neither cared. They would take it at their own pace, and when the time for newer things came, that's when they would happen.

Surely, though, they'd made it far enough. Both of them had never had a concrete relationship before, but tongue-kissing straightaway had to be a sign of a very good and stable connection.

Esca felt warm and fuzzy as his memories of last night replayed in his head. He listened close to Marcus' breathing. It felt like a dream. Weeks and months he had waited to do this, and every step of the way he was extremely careful, dreading rejection. But now, his greatest wish had come true. Marcus must feel as he did.

But then the memories rolled back to the scent of wine on Marcus' breath. Esca froze, and the warmth and fuzziness seemed to drain away, replaced with a cold, stony insecurity. That smell... it smelled and tasted good last night... but only because he tasted it in Marcus' mouth. He hadn't even thought about what it could mean.

Was Marcus just drunk? Sure, he seemed to have less inhibitions than usual... No, Esca thought, trying to shoo away that realization, That definitely meant something. It was real and it was right.

But the cold stoniness remained firm in his heart. There was only one way to know.

With caution, and with Marcus' hand still wrapped around his middle, Esca slowly turned over and faced the Roman. The cold in his heart began to melt as he saw Marcus' face, the face of the man he had unrequitedly loved for what felt like years. He was beautiful as he slept, his chest slowly rising and falling and his tanned cheeks radiating a beautiful warm glow in the morning's yellow light.

Esca raised his free hand to Marcus' cheek and caressed it slowly. This has got to be real...

Marcus' eyes fluttered open and he smiled. "Good morning, Esca."

Esca's heart melted completely through and the warm fuzziness filled it again. "Good morning, Marcus," Esca said, stammering for words, shocked but happy at the same time. "Last night..."

"...was the best night of my life," Marcus said, finishing his sentence. Esca couldn't help but smile. It was real.

Marcus chuckled slightly as he saw Esca blush."What else did you expect me to say?" Esca didn't answer. "Did you think it was some drunken mistake?"

Esca shrank a bit and blushed deeper. "No... of course not, Marcus. That was no mistake. It meant everything to me and... I'm glad it happened."

Marcus smiled. "Mi flor... I've waited so long for that to happen... ever since I first saw you in that arena." Marcus stared deeply into the cool blue of his lover's eyes and moved closer. "I want every night to be like that."

Esca leaned in as well. "Without you trying to run away in the dead of night? I think I'd like that." He moved in and their lips touched again, quickly but lovingly. "But come on, breakfast is ready and if we stay here any longer Stephanos might think we've dropped off the face of the Earth." Esca sat up and glanced at his own bed, still covered in Marcus' possessions that had spilled out his sack last night.

Marcus stood up and stared at Esca, who in turn was still staring at his bed. Marcus quickly went and gathered up all the things on the bed. "That," he said, nodding his head as he began to push the things back into his chest on the floor, "was the drunken mistake. Under my own judgement, free of wine, I'd never try to leave without you."

Esca stood up from the bed and smiled down to Marcus, offering his hand. Marcus grasped it, and they pushed open the door to head down for breakfast together.

A/N: That was the first makeout scene I've written that actually felt good to write and reads well (imho). Review please!

Translations: "mo ghaol" means "my love" in Gaelic. "mi flor" means "my flower" in Latin.