Notes: A ridiculous amount of research went into this fic and I still don't feel as if it's enough. Sadly, there's very little information on the topic, so I did my best.
Still, short explanation: in Ancient Greece, the word parabatai was used for a pair of lovers that fought together in battle. 150 pairs of them made up an elite army that was rarely ever defeated (in fact, their only loss was their final battle where all 300 of them were killed because they refused to flee; this is the battle referenced in the fic); you can read more about it if you look up the Sacred Band of Thebes.
There are probably a lot of anachronisms, but avoiding them would mean even more research and also a glossary for the fic and I can't put myself or you guys through that. As it is, the only 'authentic' word I can think of is fibula, which is a brooch of sorts that keeps a chiton in place. The name Alexander is Greek anyway, so I didn't have to alter it; Jonathan was actually first used by the Romans, but feel free to ignore that little tidbit. All in all, I don't think I've ever written something similar to this before, so I'd love to know what you think!
The first time they'd met, Alexander recalled, the day had been just as hot as this one.
It had been several years ago and things had been very different back then. He hadn't been a soldier yet; in fact, he'd been little more than a boy and the ships that visited the city occasionally had been his main activity aside from his military training. Back in that particular day, the heat had been just as unbearable and the first thing he'd seen from Jonathan had been his strangely light hair glistening under the sunlight as he'd climbed off the ship he'd arrived in. The view had made said sunlight slightly less unpleasant because really, how could anyone complain about the sun when it made Jonathan's unusual colours shine even brighter than they normally did? It was the last thing from him he'd seen today as the man had entered their tent and had urged him to do the same.
He didn't know why he was thinking about that now – or rather, he did but had no desire to dwell on it. He didn't have time to waste, after all, Alexander reminded himself. He was used to the feeling that time was running out, but it was all the more insistent now. He stood up abruptly, making his way back into the tent and away from the last unforgiving rays of the sun.
By sunrise, he'd have to leave again and this time he wouldn't be alone. It was very likely that they would never make it back and would never see the same landscape ever again and yet, he knew where he would rather spend his time.
It took a while for his eyes to adjust to the growing darkness inside and Alexander narrowed them against the bed, unsurprised to find it already occupied.
He knew Jonathan's body better than he knew his own and that was the only reason he could tell that the other man wasn't actually asleep. He let him keep up the pretence and slid on the cot next to him as quietly as possible, fitting their bodies together.
It didn't take long for Jonathan to move and Alexander smiled despite himself. It was short lived, however; his smile froze as soon as his lover spoke.
"Are you scared?"
Alexander's breath caught in his throat. He'd never been asked such a question and he hadn't expected to hear it now. It just wasn't done, but he didn't have it in himself to lie.
"Yes."
"I'm not." Jonathan shifted on the narrow bed and soon enough, Alexander felt his weight settle on top of him. "If we die, we die together."
His mismatched eyes were boring into Alexander's with an intensity that made him want to look away. He didn't; preferred to keep Jonathan's gaze instead, greedily drinking in everything he could of him before it was too late.
It was beyond him how Jonathan knew that he feared separation rather than death, but he knew that he shouldn't have been surprised. He remembered the first time they'd met, the memory clear as if it had been yesterday even if it felt like they'd known each other for a thousand years already; remembered how he'd just known that if there was one person out there, just one, who could look at him and see what was inside, it would be him.
"Together," he echoed. He didn't need to say anything else for Jonathan to understand. "I would never leave you."
Jonathan didn't move; only his hand stretched out, his fingers tangling themselves into Alexander's hair. "Parabatai," he breathed, leaning down for a kiss.
That word alone felt much heavier than any endearment Jonathan could have used in its place. It reminded Alexander of heat and blood and death, but never their death; of his bow and Jonathan's spear and the careful dance they'd got used to over the years. When he'd first been allowed into one, Alexander had found chariots to be far more uncomfortable to ride in than he had expected and he couldn't imagine how he was supposed to share the confined space with another person, but with Jonathan it felt like flying above everyone else around them.
It didn't feel like flying when he imagined it now. Alexander had promised himself to try and not think about it, but the thought of the battle that awaited them come morning kept sneaking into his head, doubt and grief tightening their hold around him. They were going to be vastly outnumbered and no one was talking about it, but the smell of tension and fear was hanging over their camp like never before.
Fighting next to the man you would do anything for seemed like a flawless strategy until you realised that it had to end one day. No one would run, Alexander was sure of it, but that didn't make the thought any easier to bear. Three hundred men were going to go into battle tomorrow and the ones Alexander pitied the most were the few lone survivors that were bound to remain.
"Stop thinking." Jonathan's command, whispered with lips pressed against Alexander's ear, pierced through his thoughts. "Just stop. Whatever happens will happen regardless of what we think about it. I'm here now, and so are you." Jonathan sat up, straddled his lap and pulled his lover up roughly. "Come here."
With one hand still braced against Alexander's shoulder, Jonathan used the other one to unclasp the fibula from his chiton until the fabric pooled around his waist. The warm night air washed over him and Alexander reached up to return the favour, only to have his hand stopped midway.
"Don't move," Jonathan instructed, making himself more comfortable. Alexander obeyed, doing his best to stay still just as he felt his body slowly start responding to the prolonged contact. He'd been too distracted to focus on that until now and wasn't that a shame? Only the gods could tell how much time they had together and he'd wasted what precious little they had to think of his worries instead. "Good," Jonathan approved, pressing their chest closer together. He sounded breathless and half out of his mind and when he felt a sharp bite on the side of his neck, Alexander wondered how long he'd been suppressing this for. Had he been thinking about it since this morning while they'd trained? Had he waited for the sun to set with the same passion with which Alexander had dreaded nightfall? He couldn't tell, and he didn't want to waste his breath on asking. "Such a good soldier," Jonathan continued, unaware of the hurricane inside his mind. Or maybe not quite so unaware: when he pulled away, his eyes shone with something Alexander had never seen before; something he couldn't really understand. "You can make it out alive if you try to," he hissed, and it sounded like an accusation. "But you won't."
"I won't," Alexander confessed. "Not if it means leaving without you. I made my choice, remember?"
"Of course I do." They both did; there was no way either of them could forget the oath they'd spoken in a temple they'd been specifically taken to just for that. Alexander could still smell the wax from the candles in the dim room they'd been provided, could still see the way Jonathan had looked at him when the ritual had been over and they'd come out, feeling as everything and nothing had changed at the same time. "I love you."
"I love you." The words weighed down on Alexander's tongue, choked him with their truth and he couldn't even tell why. He'd said them before countless times when they'd been in danger, but they'd never felt so real or so final. He wanted to take them back, suddenly; time was slipping through his fingers like sand, moment by moment until there would be nothing left to say, nothing left to do, and he'd have to face what they both knew was coming.
"Then stay with me. Here," Jonathan hurried to add when Alexander opened his mouth to make his promise yet again. "Stay with me here, tonight." His fingers pressed against Alexander's cheek. Think of me. Don't think of losing me. He'd said it before, even if the danger hadn't been quite so great. "Can you do that?"
"Yes." How could he not? He couldn't think of anything but Jonathan when his lover looked at him like that; eyes wide and dark and hair dishevelled, making any god Alexander may have expected to see after his death pale in comparison.
"Stay here." Jonathan climbed off of him, only to return a moment later with the olive oil Alexander had expected to see, accompanied by his usual devilish smile. It was easy to feel at ease that way, to believe that it was just a night like any other and not a goodbye. Jonathan was solid and real against him and he was all that mattered and while that wasn't necessarily something new, it was comforting to feel a physical confirmation of it. "Lie down."
Alexander obliged, returning to his position from earlier and letting Jonathan get rid of his chiton completely and discard it on the ground. He didn't bother doing the same with his own clothes and Alexander whined at the realisation that he would be deprived of seeing his lover prepare himself. Jonathan laughed at that; a breathless, quiet sound that ended on a moan. He wasn't as thorough as Alexander would have been, he could see that, but he could tell that this was what he was aiming for and didn't interrupt him. Not until he started bouncing himself on his fingers, at least, at which point Alexander gripped his thighs hard enough to leave fingerprints and definitely hard enough to distract him.
"I haven't forgotten you, parabatai," Jonathan assured him and Alexander couldn't mask his reaction when his lover's fingers wrapped around his erection. He hadn't paid enough attention to his body to realise how affected he really was, but it only made sense. Jonathan was looking at him with so much heat in his eyes that he could feel himself burning up inside until there was nothing left of him; nothing that didn't belong to the here and now. Somehow, it was only enhanced by the pained gasp that left Jonathan's lips as he carefully sat himself on Alexander's lap, his breathing laboured and eyes screwed shut.
"Does it hurt?" Alexander ventured, loosening his hands's grasp, but Jonathan held him in place.
"Yes," he gritted through his teeth. Despite the statement, he didn't seem to mind the pain; if anything, his expression was almost one of awe. A good kind of pain, then; one of the rare occasions when pain could be pleasant. Alexander had never understood, but he had also never denied him the opportunity. "Yes. Don't move."
"I won't," Alexander vowed. He kept his hands on Jonathan's thighs, unable to keep away and perhaps he wasn't the only one, because before he could blink, Jonathan's lips were on one level with his own and Alexander used the opportunity to kiss him. Jonathan hadn't stopped moving, but it was more shallow now, almost distracted, and the look in his eyes kept flickering somewhere between pleasure and pain; between love and grief.
"Stay with me," he insisted again and this time it almost sounded like a plea. "Promise me, Alexander."
"I will," Alexander said, his eyes closing on their own volition this time. He couldn't keep looking at him, couldn't keep looking out for the sunrise and for the time and for everything that awaited him outside of this. Jonathan had understood, he supposed, because moments later he felt his lover's hair whisper over the skin of his shoulder as Jonathan buried his face in his chest. "Until the end, no matter what," he added, trying to ignore the tears he was trying to fight back and the way Jonathan shook against him. He couldn't see his face, couldn't see anything, but he didn't need to. Not anymore. "I promise."