A/N: Okay hello my Sparty peeps! Long time no see. I was recently going through my unfinished stories and found this little snippet and OMG IT'S SO CUTE and I find myself wondering how I managed to write this (seriously like what) and so I decided to finish it off, I hope you guys like it. This little thingy is my imagination running during Sacramentum, the episode where the rebels took the ship from the Romans and gained many fighters. I think it would have been the coolest thing if the Germans had seen Agron claim Nasir and just been like 'BRUDER' and swept him into their folds.
Disclaimer: I haven't got one itty bitty tattoo much less a whole armful, I don't believe I'm quite awesome enough to pull that off. All the beauty of Spartacus and damn awesome tattooage goes to Steven DeKnight.
Summary: Nasir isn't a German like Agron yet he is accepted by them because of his allegiance to his lover. Takes place during Vengeance, Sacramentum, just my wee little take on things as it were, kinda fluffy and hopefully for the future (in english despite the title).
Bruder östlich des Rheins by FlyingNymphLady
The rowdy band of barbarish men and women dragged each other through the sanctuary's gate, their boisterous laughter drawing the odd assortment of rebels from the interior of the temple. The Gauls looked on in repulsion, more rivals in their camp. The wild Celts knew Agron had played his cards in the choosing of the ship liberated, shifting the power to favor his own people. However, Crixus also knew there was nothing that could be done to change these events and so he instructed his people to avoid fighting with their new 'brothers' as Spartacus would have them call these men. Fucking Germans.
The Germans were unphased by the unpleasant company, acting like an excited pack of wild dogs; kissing and brawling with each other simultaneously. They had been saved from a life of servitude to the Romans; reason to celebrate indeed. Agron emerged from the disorderly crowd, greeting his love with long absent kisses and the joining of foreheads.
The Germans witness the exchange, understanding the claim being laid on the little Syrian. He was one of their brothers by allegiance, a German by family laws. Agron laughed tossing Nasir into the rowdy bunch, the boy's form instantly vanishing amidst the cumbersome arms that embraced him gleefully. Nasir was slightly stiff, unaccustomed to such wild behavior but slowly allowed his body to relax; melting into the frenzy.
"What are they saying?" Nasir asked Agron when he finally managed to free himself from the masses.
"Mostly they talk of the day's events, the homeland," Agron told him swaying from side to side with Nasir in his arms. Leaning his mouth close to the boy's ear he murmured, "Of your beauty."
Nasir blushed and avoided eye contact with his German, "They do no such thing."
"Ah, but how do you know little man? Do you speak the language of my home?" Agron grinned at the black haired Syrian, pulling him closer under playful protest. Nasir chuckled and caved to the rough housing, allowing Agron's arm to snag him around the waist once more.
"Spartacus is displeased with their speech you must know…" Nasir trailed off, examining Agron's face as he waited to gage its reaction. Agron seemed slightly down trodden by the mention of their commander's disapproval but none the less he did not let it spoil his mirth.
"These people are those East of Rhine, they speak little to nothing of the common tongue. There is no need for it out in the free providences of our land. It is a loathsome thing for us to learn the tongue for it means that the Romans are conquering our spirits, they are forcing us to submit to their dialect." The German spoke these words with passion, invoking an unknown feeling within Nasir's spirit. The Syrian had never known the ways of his own people yet he felt the rebellion Agron described of the Germans somewhere deep within himself; tethered to his own homeland by some invisible thread of allegiance.
Perhaps having a bit too much wine, though he highly doubted this rumor, Nasir leaned closer to Agron messaging the man's lips with his own until their tongues became intimately acquainted with one and other, sharing in a dance even the gods dared not waltz. Soft rumbles erupted from the man's scruffy throat every now and again egging Nasir to venture further than before, exploring crevices unknown to even the German himself.
After quite some time Agron escorted Nasir away from the main hall; directing him toward their shared bedding. Inside the temple Agron had managed to secure a room for the two of them exclusively when the boy had been on the mend and had simply kept it that way ever since; enjoying the egotistical perks of being the only one to lay eyes upon such a treasure. Nasir was never fueled by complaints for certain, the little man seemed to adore the teasing show they would perform for the outcast band, retiring before too much of the act had been revealed. It wasn't a matter of vanity which drove the lovers into seclusion but the urge to protect and covet what they had only recently obtained.
Their lovemaking was as passionate as Venus and Mars themselves and left little to even the most experienced minds. It was difficult to gain the feeling of acceptable closeness and the pair often spent much of their time pawing at one and other, desiring closer contact. When they climaxed it was an almost unbearable sensation of pleasure to even a body slave such as Nasir. The earth seemed to tremble in wake of their fervent joining leaving them well spent and quite prepared for a long slumber.
Lying beside his lover in exhaust, Nasir felt a worn smile creep along the lines of his lips. Agron, still recovering from their bout of sexual activity allowed himself the opportunity to examine the Syrian in the dimming flame of candlelight. Tracing the naturally tanned skin with his callused fingers did nothing to justifiably ingrain even the tiniest hair into his mind's eye and the German feared he would have to spend eternity slowly retracing Nasir's body, kissing every space until he could see nothing but the Syrian in front of him. A thought which brought infinite pleasure to both his upper and nether reigns.
"What comes to mind after such an escapade?" Nasir asked, fully enjoying the genuine care he was being shown. Even in his years as a body slave when people had bought and sold him for purposes such as these Nasir had never felt cared for the way he did in this bed. As a slave he had been valued simply for his physical duties, earning him a well thought of place among the villa slaves. Yet it had been a lonely place he realized now; no one had ever concerned themselves with his needs or feelings the way Agron did. None had thought to concern themselves with such matters after they'd finished their business with him, instead leaving him alone to comfort and take care of himself.
"I think I may have to keep you here for many more nights little man," Agron told him gently brushing the taunt nipple of the Syrian with his swollen lips, "So that I may become acquainted with every part of you. I wish to know ever scar, every indent so that I may more fully come to know this man with whom I share my bed."
Nasir's smile grew wider and he gently coaxed Agron's lips back to his own, taking full pleasure in the taste they held, "And I shall not deny you your request but this night is rapidly ending and I do not wish to see it so. Close your eyes and let waking thought slip from it."
Argon obliged his little man, shifting his body to better engulf Nasir's lean frame. Both of them knew tomorrow was never a certainty. There was no promise that they would wake the next day. As far as the gods were concerned the rebels could have their throats slit by Roman hand before they ever woke or they could find themselves crucified as examples to all those who dared stand against Rome. With all these uncertainties bathing his every waking thought Nasir had never felt more safe than behind the walls of this temple. If the crucifixes were meant for them than Nasir would fight like a fight wild cat till the end. He had known the true meaning of living and no distorted existence as a slave would ever satisfy him again.
In the morning Agron and the freed Germans would set out on a hunt and Nasir would be right there with them. He once had described himself as more Roman than Syrian but he had never been more wrong. Though his blood might have flowed with the blood of the Syrians he felt at one with Agron's kin. He would hunt and live as one of them and when the rebel army had defeated the Roman Empire he would return with Agron to his homeland. There was nothing certain in this world or in the next but somehow, somehow the little man from Syria knew this was the manner in which things would come to pass.
- End -
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