It was a hazy day as they sat within the tent, flies buzzing above their heads as they discussed politics and war. Their servants weaved in and out, tending to them much slower than usual in such a sluggish afternoon. At times, Antony felt he was ready to fall asleep, but he kept his head up to keep talking.
After hours, the servants eventually left and Caesar and him were left alone in the tent. Their quiet chatter faded into silence. Antony started dozing when he felt someone's presence lingering close to him. Jerking awake, he looked over to see Caesar on his knees next to him, surveying his face.
"My lord," Antony murmured. "What are you doing?"
"Observing you," Caesar replied.
He stayed silent for a moment, confused. "Whatever for?"
Caesar stared into his eyes before sighing. "Reasons I can not speak of." He stood up.
"You may tell me, my lord," Antony told him.
He shook his head. "Do not worry about it, dear Antony."
Antony felt uneasy inside, curious to know what Caesar was doing. Standing up himself, he went up to stand behind Caesar. He was about to open his mouth to speak, but hesitated. They stood silently before Caesar turned around. "Antony, have you ever felt a love for someone that could not be filled?"
"I believe I understand what you mean, my lord," he answered, his mind racing.
Caesar seemed to be closer than before. "Do you mean that, Antony?" His voice was soft. It was strange to hear him so gentle when he was Caesar, the mighty Roman, ordering armies and taking control.
Antony paused, studying the tiny details of Caesar's face that he had never noticed before: skin creases, small blemishes…..
"Yes." His voice was almost a whisper.
"Will you not kiss me, Antony?"
His heart stopped. "M—my lord?"
Caesar placed his hands around Antony's face, bringing his lips cautiously to his. It was a nervous, light kiss, unsure of it self but asking for the other's acceptance. Antony was slack-jawed as they broke apart. "My lord," he repeated.
Again, Caesar kissed him, but this time harder. He was steering again, taking Antony under him as he kissed him roughly. Their chins were bumping together, and Caesar's hands were gripping the sides of his face fiercely. Antony was shocked to find himself kissing back, almost matching the power of Caesar's, his hands grasping the sides of Caesar's robe as they kissed.
The longer they went the more fervent it became, lips opening and tongues slipping through. Antony found himself feeling eager to explore the depths of Caesar's newly discovered passion for him. His hands started wandering, around his back to his neck. Never before had he ever seen Caesar in this light, and he was almost pleased with it—maybe he was.
When they finally broke apart, their breathing was jagged, foreheads touching as Antony traced Caesar's jaw line, kissing the tip of his nose lightly. His fingers brushed lightly over his cheeks before Caesar pulled away, turning around. "I shouldn't have done that."
"But Caesar—"
"Do you not realize what I have created?" Caesar snapped. "Do you not realize what I have done?" He sounded tired suddenly.
Antony stayed silently, eyes down as he played with the sash across his waist, unsure of what to do. He had liked it, but if Caesar said no, Caesar meant no.
But soon Caesar's arms were at Antony's side again. His lips pressed against Antony's neck, causing Antony to shiver with pleasure. "My lord, you said—"
"I know what I said," he murmured, pulling away for a second. "But it's too late now." He went back to Antony, this time kissing his chin.
"What are we going to do?" he breathed.
Caesar stopped again to look at him. "Keep it in secret." His eyes were burning into Antony's.
Antony gave a small smile before kissing him again. "Whatever you say, my lord."