A/N: Oh wow, I can't believe I actually wrote my first full on sex scene. I don't know how to feel but here it is. I hope it's not like horrible or anything. I tried to keep them in character for the most part but I haven't seen the series in a while and this might be really OOC, oh gods hope it isn't that. Anyways I hope this brings someone joy haha.
Disclaimer: I do not own Spartacus, only wish that I could to save myself a few uncontrollable tears.
Summary: A week's worth of war preparations have gone to waste and Tiberius is sent into an unhindered state of stir crazy. Isn't it fortunate for him that he has someone who would just love to relieve him of his suffering?
Of Tedium and Power Struggles by FlyingNymphLady
Darkness fell with an unexpected hush over the land. The Roman encampment lay in silence as did the boisterous bellowing of their adversaries' city. Torch flames ebbed low in the damp weather, rain thwarting their existence. The week's worth of war preparations seemed almost pointless now looking out from one's soggy tent. Neither side could manage to overwhelm the other when Jupiter was handling the job so well. The ground was a sea of mud, incapable of being passed through without bare feet and light traveling gear.
Young Tiberius hated the pause in their crusade, feeling troubled settling into his cot for days on end- waiting for Apollo to shine upon them again. Feeling stir crazy the temptation of the follower's camp called to him. He resisted the beckoning of sheets however, uneager to stumble onto his father's martial betrayal. It was one thing to be conscious of his father's actions, quite another to lay witness to them.
Instead Tiberius found himself trudging through the murky sludge in search of a fellow officer's tent. Training was out of the question for the day but he hoped to break words with someone who held an insightful tongue. To reach his goal Tiberius knew of only one such man who could spark his interests and set them ablaze.
The man however did not tend to bring out Tiberius' best characteristics and often brought the boy to a fit instead. Considering his options however Tiberius welcomed the notion of a possible brawl with his contemporary (if the man could be considered as such), reveling the idea of a change in pace.
Arriving at the tent Tiberius clambered out of the slush, allowing a young slave boy to place his feet in cleansing water. The liquid bit into the cuts on his feet causing him to grimace though he allowed the boy to finish without complaint. Tiberius suspected the water had been obtained from the ocean; its substance overflowing with salt.
"Fetch new wine boy," The owner of the tent commanded as his rose from around the corner where his bed lay. Glancing toward Tiberius, he gave this newest boy a fleeting over-look before passing judgment. "You look like a drown mutt. What brings you to my presence; does your father require a more capable right hand?"
"Perhaps in my absence but today is not that day," Tiberius retorted with a certain amount of vigor in his voice, "I was brought to your tent out of sheer tedium."
"Tedium indeed. A wide spread epidemic seems to be infecting this entire camp." Caesar commented casually, his eyes turned sharply toward Tiberius' own, "Yet you are the first to seek my restorative touch…"
"Let us just say that you have special- properties; which most men do not possess." Tiberius said curtly. Keeping the conversation short and brief seemed to be a way of containing his anger but only if Caesar would drop subject and entertain his fucking request. The gods must have heard him for after Caesar finished a last cup of mead he advanced upon the young Roman like a wolf spotting a lone lamb in the field.
The blonde's lips lunged forward teasing Tiberius' into chasing the lewd flesh backward before attacking his lips full on. They crashed passionately together, grasping one and other's legion clothing to balance themselves. Tiberius wanted to moan into the kiss and let Caesar have his way with his body completely but he restrained himself, only allowing a small gasp escape. The feel of Caesar's lips were indomitable to the Roman youth; he had locked lips with many back in Mother Rome but the expert attendance of Caesar's mouth on his left him panting for more.
Taking the boy's hips into his experienced hands Caesar lifted him onto the navigational table behind them, the bed too far away for the rapidly need growing inside his stomach. He began devouring the tanned skin inch by inch, covering every scrap of its surface in heated kisses and impassioned bites of lust. Tiberius clenched his hands into Caesar's hair as the blonde's touch drifts lower and lower; his cock growing with anticipation.
Stripping Tiberius of his uniform inch by succulent inch Caesar doesn't let any patch of skin go unappreciated but he refuses to touch his cock which is growing at a steady pace. Looking back up into his eyes Caesar finds the boy intoxicated with desire, his lashes drooping ever so slightly. Caesar smirks predatorily and advances upon the boy's lips once more.
It's Tiberius who breaks the heated lip lock first, his mouth stumbling upon what it needs to say. Caesar is able to discern a few words but they're of little matter, he can tell what Tiberius desires.
Pulling the youth's hips to him, Caesar feels the desperate rolling of the boy, so full of need. His teeth escape his mouth as he grins, rocking his own waist to meet the boy's wanton ones. The joining of their hips is like the exhilaration of battle, wild and untamed they come at each other, self-control lost in the throes of passion rolling off of them. Tiberius feels his stomach tightening, his release rising fast. Suddenly Caesar's body is gone, missing from his reach. Tiberius brings his head forward, his eyes looking around the room in a foggy haze, desperate to find the blonde Roman and relieve the insatiable thirst in between his legs. Spotting the object of his desire Tiberius tumbles off the table, reaching for him clumsily as he stumbles over fallen paperwork.
Caesar's laugh sends a tingling burst of pleasure through his spine, urging him onward. The older Roman lures him further from the table, but Tiberius follows him anyhow, determined to recapture him and quench his unsated need. He watches as Caesar moves aside the curtain which conceals his bed, not bothering to look for it as he carefully navigates himself backwards. Tiberius licks his lips as Caesar reclines onto the sheets, his eyes meeting the commander's son expectantly. Tiberius' eyes roam freely, sweeping over his muscled shoulders running down passed his taut washboard stomach before finally settling on his straining cock. He stares hungrily, like a starved man spotting an unguarded feast.
Jump-starting into action Tiberius surges forward, almost mindless of his actions, his pheromones pushing him onward without thought. Climbing onto the bed he straddles Caesar's waist, his palms placed firmly on his solid chest. Caesar groans as his hips lurch forward, frantic to find Tiberius'. The younger Roman is more than eager to react accordingly, standing on his knees in order to properly realign himself with Caesar's manhood. Before he can slide down onto the pulsing member he feels Caesar's finger slip into him, gliding into his opening smoothly, already covered with spit and self pre-come. Tiberius rides the digits as they continue to multiply inside him, finally he feels himself tighten around them, his release overtaking him in a landslide.
He doesn't notice as Caesar pulls his fingers out replacing them with his own throbbing cock, riding Tiberius through the throes of his climax. As Tiberius finally comes around again he watches as Caesar goes stiff, his body curling up as he comes, his mind lost too far inside its own pleasure to pay attention to his facial expressions. The young Crassus allows himself to watch the moment, feeling himself clenching against the older man even though he's already spent. In these few moments he allows himself to feel vulnerable around Caesar, allows himself to take in the feel of the man beneath him, pretending somewhere in the back of his mind that this is normal for them, that it's something they do without power struggles lying behind the touches.
Caesar's face begins to return usual expression and he pushes on Tiberius' thigh, rolling him off onto an empty side of the bed. Rising, he exits the curtain fetching the newly brought wine. Tiberius knows the slave has heard them but he doesn't care, if the boy has fucking sense he won't breath a whisper of it to anyone. It would be a shame to have to kill the boy, he serves his purpose so well.
"How fairs your fucking tedium now boy?" Caesar asks, returning to Tiberius with a flask in his hand. Tiberius doesn't bother to reach for it because he knows Caesar's ways, waiting instead for him to have his fill, falling onto the sheets beside him, the flask finally passed onto the young commander.
"It t'is better sated now but continuously unhappy without stimulation." Looking at him with a wicked grin Caesar takes the boy's meaning to cock, hindering him to his tent for the rest of the day. In the glimmering light of the next morning they take their stances beside Marcus Crassus, both eager to keep in favor with the supreme commander. Whatever they do or do not feel for each other is irrelevant. It's all just a pawn in the struggle for power. It means nothing.
- End -
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