Title: The Warrior's Boy
Type: Friendship, Romance, Snark, PreSlash, Episodic, Hidden Scenes
Rating: NC-17
Fandom: Spartacus: Vengeance
Pairing: Agron/Nasir (post-Tiberius)
Setting: Some time after Episode 4 "Empty Hands", and perhaps as an alternative to events in Episode 5 "Libertus" (published prior to the airing of Episode 5).
Word Count: 5052
Summary:Having arrived past Vesuvius after leaving the first villa that they sequestered and rescuing Naevia, the rebels have now reformed as a united number and taken residence at yet another overpowered residence. Nasir is recovering, though finding his enforced bed rest tiresome. He has an apology to make to Agron, and not just for the light he shed on their lie to Crixus. The Syrian has had prying eyes, and yet Agron might not be so displeased by that as first thought. Romance and masculine loveliness ensues.
Warnings: Possible spoilers for anyone who has not seen all episodes up to Season 2 Episode 4 "Empty Hands". NC-17 rating is not for every chapter, but the series as a whole, which will most likely have graphic sexual content at some point, although there are some sexual references, themes and adult language in this chapter. Being a co-write, there are differences in POV between the characters at times. Agron is written by me, VarrosGirly, and Nasir by Jaxon666. ConCrit is welcome if reasonable. If you are just out to be a prick, your ConCrit will be deleted. Comments do not have to be praising, but we don't accept fuckery either. Thanks.
Agron had waited for the Thracian to end his visit, so that he could bring extra bread to the boy no longer known as Tiberius. He'd earned it, being so fearless in his recovery. Too fearless, as Spartacus had been noting. He didn't want the Syrian exerting himself, but Agron found it amusing, and even admirable. Even if it was foolish to continue.
"When did you find the time to thieve a sword?" He stood in the doorway, watching Nasir train himself against a pillar. "I see the strain on your back and shoulders. You should rest, as instructed. Or train properly. You'll do no good to yourself this way." Agron set the bread on a nearby table, watching Nasir. To think they had been so close to losing him entirely. He'd grown fond, and did not enjoy losing anyone he counted closer than most.
"It pulls aches from your form. Set weapon down and let your strength recover." No matter what advice Agron gave, it always seemed from a place originated in anger, even if deceptively soft in tone.
"It is mine. That I use it when told not to, does not revoke ownership," Nasir said, bothered that he'd been caught, even if Agron wouldn't tell Spartacus. Though loyal to the Champion, the German was no tattletale nor a devout follower of the rules laid out. Nasir was sick of being ailed, and in it, deemed useless. He wanted freedom from his bed and to do something of use. He stopped his sword though, standing still to eye that which Agron had brought for him.
"Then find proper use, or none at all." A change from Agron's former self, who had believed that constant training through anything was the only path to glory. His thoughts were altered with their new predicaments, though. Glory and honour were no longer their targets.
"You bring bread for me. At the expense of whose ration?" Though he appreciated the gift with a small smile, he wouldn't take it if it meant another had gone hungry. He had to be cautious of that with Agron, because his rule breaking nature could be both a blessing or a curse, though he seemed not to intend ill. It was nice though, to feel wanted and cared for, without command to emulate those things. And Agron owed him nothing; this was a new human experience for Nasir. He smiled then, longer and larger than before, setting his sword down as requested, letting it balance handle-first against the bland stone wall nearest to him. Nasir then sat on his bed, complying with Agron, who meant well for him.
"The villa provides, Nasir. Do not question what necessities are delivered to your hands." The bread had come from his own rations, but he did not go without. What meals he had were more than plenty, given their recent taking. Fortunate for them this had been a wealthy place. With dwindled numbers, they could provide more. The villa even had clean water; something rare, even in these lavish homes.
"You have been good to me. I have wondered why. Your distrust of Syrians has lifted, for what reason?" he asked, curiously. He felt Agron at his level, though Spartacus' second hand. He felt at home with him somehow, able to jest and talk openly, and forgive for committed acts. With Spartacus and the others, Nasir felt union only in purpose, and would never find himself so freely placed.
"You hold no likeness to the last Syrian I have known. Ashur. A rat and traitor, a coward seeking favours among those who would give him rise." Agron's face soured for a moment, the name putting a foul taste in his mouth. "I would have words with him, should our paths cross. Let us pray they do." The German felt a kinship with Nasir, even after the attempt on Spartacus' life.
"You inspire memories." His own brother had been weak, but eager to learn, and there were certain qualities the two shared that did not go unnoticed. Agron leaned against a wall near Nasir's bed, looking him over. "And you yet heed my words, over Spartacus. To others, it would cause worry." He smiled somewhat, though the thought had occurred that Nasir would not be in such condition had he stayed with Agron.
"I hope it is better that you think of me then, and not worse." Nasir spoke with a modestly cheerful look to him, knowing his supposing must be true. The Syrian that Spartacus' men had known sounded lower than a dog. He hated that he was once judged as such, for one man's actions. But then, he was once a willing whore when now he had conscience. Thoughts of honour and respect were as new to him as they were to newborn babe. Quite oppositely to his German friend, Nasir hoped they would not cross paths with this Ashur, if he truly was as squalid as he sounded, though he suspected the worst. Still, Nasir was not this Ashur, and in that, he could not be deceitful or cruel to one undeserving. To Agron, he had one thing yet to be discussed.
"You have proven more a man, though in years he held higher number." Agron was not a complete beast, like some who still suspected the Syrian of future betrayal. Those few had been corrected, by both he and Spartacus, who knew the man better.
"Apologies-" he said, looking away in fretting of a rejection that may come from this, "-for telling Crixus of our lie to him. It was not meant as blow to you, but as truth to one considered brother as he lost himself to despair. I could not walk knowing good of my cause, if my hand still played part in keeping him blind." Nasir tentatively spoke, hoping Agron could forgive him, and see his reasons as sound. The German shook his head, stepping away from the wall to take seat beside Nasir.
"Your mind weighs heavy with thoughts. I should make apology. Your band in the mines was outnumbered. It was unwise to part ways. Crixus captured, his-" Agron bit his tongue, for fear of his growing anger "-we are saddled with his Naevia. And you...were almost killed." They both owed apology to the other then, for setting all things now mentioned into motion.
"Lighter now, to know we have no ills between us." Nasir smiled in reception of this news which he did not do more than hope for, his happiness for it making him shine over Agron for just a moment. He tried not to look for too long at his friend, not alone with him and so close; the German may not find such looks comforting, and his ways may not allow for them to be received well, or even kindly at that.
"Yours is well met, Nasir. The ludus did not provide opportunity for thoughts of others." He did not think of many besides himself and those he favoured. "I see now that you hold compassion for all who are in your station. The same as Spartacus. I sought only to survive, and I found the task with ease."
"Still, as you would have my life unthreatened, I would not have yours in it's way. Little more to say on it now then. We both are here this day, yet to die another." Nasir smiled again, still telling his eyes not to linger for too long when speaking to his Agron, or to find too much comfort in how they looked upon him.
"You did miss the thing of Spartacus. He fought Romans in the forest, alone. He fights like a child of the Gods themselves. You have seen it." Nasir stilled his excitement and awe for it though, throwing it away with his last four words as though defeated by the fact spoken, reminding himself that Agron had been in the world they now shared far longer than he.
The boy seemed optimistic in his reception, and more than pleased that Agron held no anger toward him. How could he think so, with all that had been provided during his recovery? Agron's only intent had been to ensure his wellbeing, one that was not spared to any ordinary man. The German found a grimaced smile, amused by the childlike awe Nasir held for the Thracian's fighting skills.
"He would not agree with your words. I have seen him in fierce battle, yes. Slaying guards, Romans...they are all eager to die at the end of his sword." Though Spartacus might not have agreed, Agron could imagine it possible that he have relation to the Gods themselves. "He fights for those he has lost. And he has lost many. We all have." Agron was silent for a brief moment. He did not mourn his brother publicly, and this was the nearest he would come to it.
"Your brother was not as strong as you, and yet he died a man worthy of the sword he carried." Nasir had heard tales, and only thought of those told by sources reliable; Spartacus being one of them. "It is right to miss him then." Nasir empowered Duro's memory, rather than coaxing Agron into not mourning him, as others had and might. Ironically, though used as no more than a living sex aid, Nasir had great capacity for insight and council, wise beyond his previous station. Though as Spartacus had taught him, the Roman's only had the power to enslave men, and never their nature. He smiled at that thought; it had took long enough to settle as something real to him.
"We never found ourselves apart, even in slavery. Captured as a pair, bought as a pair. Trained...Duro was a warrior." He was proud of his brother, even in death. Perhaps the man saw how he was remembered from those still with life in them. Agron rose an eyebrow at Nasir's curious actions, finding them amusing. They were those of a child unsure of their standing, as if he could not decide whether he was to be chastised or praised.
"Your eyes dash away like frightened rabbits when they meet mine, Nasir-" Agron turned to lighter subjects, not ignorant to the gazes the Syrian cast "-do you find me a beast to inspire fear?" A light jest, met with an equal smile, though it did not remain for too long. Nasir placed a gentle hand upon Agron's arm, instantly aware of how the touch meant for comfort, could too easily become something he allowed himself to enjoy. Agron was not accustomed to the touch, as other men were not so tender with them as the Syrian. It was one he would have regarded as a woman's, except it did not feel quite so when delivered by the darker hand.
As soon as Agron snapped at him for his anxious behaviour, Nasir's hand automatically flew from the German's arm, which unfortunately proved points against him. He hesitated before answering his friend, eyes as well as thoughts unsure where to fix at all now.
"Perhaps a beast, but not one that displeases." he attempted to make light before delving further, "I would not have you find something unwelcome in my gaze." Agron still rode a wave of frivolous rapport for moments, until he saw the seriousness in Nasir's face thereafter, thus spawning new and clearer meaning in the Syrian's words. Nasir found himself swallowing without need to. He did not want to be loathed for hinting at wants not welcomed or asked for.
"You favour me in such a way, then?" Once he realized what Nasir truly spoke of, his expression turned to confusion, and then to one calmed yet could not be interpreted. Unexpected, perhaps, but Agron found that he had entertained similar thoughts over the last weeks to pass. "Now vision is cleared-" he chuckled, looking at the opposite wall for a moment "-why your actions follow my words precisely." Agron turned his head toward the Syrian once more. "You assume I would be displeased with what your eyes hold? Perhaps you should have taken closer looks before casting them aside."
Agron was no lover to anyone, but he could find ardour and was no enemy of affection. He had been one of few who tended regularly to Nasir after their arrival beyond Vesuvius. Nasir was one he held in high favour, and the thought of almost losing him had not been kind. Agron held the Syrian's chin in one hand, turning so their gazes met again. "You would be silent for fear of my anger? Wise...but also foolish."
All of a sudden, Nasir felt stupid in the hand that now held him, for with it's one simple grip it told him he had known nothing all along, and made him feel as filled with glee as babe shown attention by one with large smile. If not for his dark complexion, he may have been blushing. Though the warming of his cheeks happened only in moments, Nasir had time somehow to find shame in it; that Agron's hand so close might learn of it.
"You give me no sign of knowing, no stray look as I part with so. And you are a beast." he made a joke of it, to break the potential intensity threatening to slip through the cracks of the atmosphere; as if one as masculine and burly as Agron could look to men with want. "My ears must tell lies. Why would you say nothing of it before? Bold Agron does not hold his tongue, where Nasir stays low not to suffer it." He smiled again, eyes taking every luxury to swim all around Agron's face, wide and without restraint, even though only slight permission had been granted.
"I give signs of thinking men cunts. I do not part with gazes or sweet words." It was true, and those who had known Agron longer knew he was quicker to pick up his sword than speak kindness to most. "I have known you favoured me-" at least in part, though not of its strength "-when we met again, and you were within death's grip. Your smile told of your recovery." Agron had not released Nasir's chin, and his eyes seemed intent, malicious, even, in their gaze. He was not used to thinking of one as a lover. "Then believe yourself in a dream, if nothing else. Death is too swift, and lays claims often. You have witnessed this."
"Many warned me not to dare...and now-" he shook his head, "-something of it does not feel right." Nasir still had his doubts, if not of Agron's truth then of his apparent good fortune.
Agron seemed angered, only slightly, that Nasir would think him dishonest in his words and actions. "The rations I provided these past days, the attentions I give... do they deceive? All from my own device, to ensure your improvement." The German's expression broke for a small chuckle. "You fear shadows, whispers of things that are not true." Agron thought it foolish, though endearing, that Nasir was so gentle. If he would not believe words, then perhaps he would believe the kiss that met his lips in the next moment.
At first Nasir struggled against Agron's lips, because he had come to him with them in anger that had not dissipated. Small and kind yes, but weakling Nasir was not, thus his initial rebellion. However, anger was followed with passion, wet masculine passion, gifted to him via soft, sensual tongue that was not bluntly edged like its owner. In seconds, Nasir was no longer rigid, but instead looser than he had been for a long time, sighing into the kiss that continued, his hands no longer cautious of where they landed, one going to Agron's roughly bristled face, another to his robust chest. Nasir found himself cursed in that moment, for only having two hands to touch Agron with. Eventually the kiss ended, and Nasir's eyes stayed closed for a few moments. Two of his main fingers tapped against Agron's neck as if to check he was real and not an apparition of desire. The small Syrian smiled faintly and lowered his head, opening his eyes to see Agron once more, who was beaming with some sort of playful yet firm statement; that he had proven his persuasion genuine.
"You would yield?" He smirked of the Syrian's taps upon his skin, who may not have known their meaning in the arena. No matter, as he enjoyed making jests whatever the moment.
"You have not known woman for quite some time. Desire spills out of you." almost too much for Nasir to contain his joy for, finding himself tickled by the rush of excitement placed within him by the gladiator's intimacies, still reeling inside of him.
One hand clutched in the coarse, dark mess of hair, Agron ensured that Nasir did not find him condemned as liar, or one to use him as former body slave. A rogue and German he may have been, but rapist or desperate he was not. If he was to favour someone, it was for their character and how it stirred him. Nasir was not as gentle in his kiss as Agron would have expected, but no less enjoyable a surprise.
"Desires matched-" Agron noted, having tasted the want on Nasir's tongue "-and overdue. If we are to die on these treacherous paths, they should be sated." Agron's hand slid from Nasir's neck to his chest, gently trailing the scar there. "Perhaps too rough an event for your current state." His grin spoke of filth, and what thoughts lay behind. Was Agron testing, or challenging? Nasir had been quick to abandon his disallowed training when Agron spoke to it. Would he find the same thoughts now?
Nasir gave Agron a quick judgemental look as he spoke of yielding; he spoke nonsense without cause. He did not dither as Agron traced his wound, sealed by fire and now reopened with sensations fuelled by tender trust. His eyes followed Agron's fingertips for a while, as they tickled over his olive skin, once fatally broken. They soon found Agron's own as the German boastfully promised a seeing too he would not soon forget. Nasir's mind quickly rattled with a flurry of thoughts as to the many ways in which Agron might see him undone at the mercy of his lust. A German, a gladiator; so many ways to fuck that Nasir did not know, he was certain. It set his mouth to water.
"If you can not go gently, then at least stay a while for other pleasures." Nasir pleasantly invited, sounding more like friend keen for company, than whore hungry for cock.
"You would have me gentle? I have never..." Agron wondered over it, eyes searching the Syrian's form, meeting his gaze firmly. "Perhaps there are things to be learned here." He never had the need to fuck gently, or do anything with a soft touch. Nasir for this moment, seemed opposite. "I would stay and have your words-" Agron found himself stroking the Syrian's cheek just once "-and whatever your company might offer." They were both virile men, and Agron had gone long without even a whore to satisfy him. Nasir had noted it already, but it was far too long for a man like him to go without even a touch.
"I will stay. The men reside in the gardens, and I would not have our meeting interrupted." Even Spartacus would not come to check on the boy for a while, having just left. "You are a strong one." Agron noted with a smile, shaking his head. "Had you attempted to take down one besides Spartacus, you may have found victory."
"You would have my arse, if only you did not fret for my recovery." The little Syrian reminded with a grin, that feisty things could too come in small packages. He lay back onto the bed, crawled around upon it from his previous position so that he now lay across the length, elbow and hand levering his head upright as he faced the back of Agron. Even given the dire circumstances surrounding he and all the other rebels, Nasir found himself feeling more fortunate than any Roman this day; a desire dreamt of but never thought to be real, had been gifted him by some unseen God.
"Find yourself recovered quickly, then, and have promise kept." Agron turned, raising one leg onto the bed as he faced Nasir. He looked as a sated leopard, lazily waiting for more prey to walk past unsuspecting.
"And I would have yours." He let Agron know that he was not simply a substitute woman, but a man himself, regardless of his long raven locks that curled with wild perfection. He was a fiery little thing, but in the loveliest possible way, with understated mannerisms and a frequent if subtle smile to promote his brighter nature. "I am not small in all places." Nasir finally promised, seeking to provoke amusement from Agron for the admission, more than arousal.
"Oh would you?" Agron grinned, leaning over the Syrian. "You would have to take me. Another battle too fierce for you yet." He would accept it, perhaps, if Nasir proved himself able to use what weight he had to an advantage. He laughed once, a loud, rough noise, matched with wide grin.
"Clearly you satisfy, or you would not have been so well kept." Agron enjoyed the more crass lines of humour, where things were spoken of that would make many glance away in disgust. "I have seen a man whose mother must have lay atop horse. He was a stupid man-" a thought crossed his mind briefly "-another who made attempt on Spartacus. Perhaps it does take one with sizeable cock to do such." He chuckled, allowing himself to touch Nasir more, palm sliding gently over his brown skin. "And what thoughts do you have of mine? Surely more than just those born this day."
Nasir snaked his hand near to one of Agron's whilst the German spoke to him, and by the end of his words, had both palm to palm. He smiled at Agron, just that tiny bit sure of himself, liking this new celebratory talk of his cock that was yet to be displayed. "See?" he didn't wink, but it seemed like one had been parted with by him nonetheless, showing Agron that his hands were not sized proportionately to his slighter form.
"I have no doubts that your blessings will keep me occupied." He had not seen, but had feeling that Agron was no small boy in similar regard to discussed of him. It was doubtful, at least. His subligarium was not absent bulge. "I'm sure you would stand proud between Crixus and Spartacus themselves." Two men with two very different endowments, and yet both worth regard. Nasir was certain his German did not fall short.
"You think me blessed?" Agron seemed full of ego in that moment, grinning again. "I stood bare before the both of them upon first meeting. They know the sight of my flesh." Yet he would not lay with either of them, if the question was posed. Yes, he would serve as second hand, or whatever other position was required. But they did not strike him as Nasir did.
"You are." Nasir confirmed Agron's blessings, not just as thought but fact. "I see no thug with ill temper, but a kind, excitable soul who has become man before his time. He does not wish to be hurt again, and chooses to turn it upon others who would bring him that fate." He smoothed a palm over Agron's arm just twice, resting a hand over his wrist. "I see you for the man you are, and not the beast you must be to protect him." There was something almost mystical about the Syrian's logic, how it came to him to easily, how he read a man like a book made of flesh.
"And I am sure you stand even as you lay." Agron took a brief grip of what nestled between Nasir's legs with the hand previously unoccupied. It was a strange thing, having so gentle a touch from the one who inspired savage thoughts. "Absent wound, you would find yourself already bent and beaded with sweat." Agron settled himself into a more comfortable position, without breaking the bond between their hands. It was intimate, yet found neither of them as a woman for it, striking the German as odd. In overall conclusion, Agron found this agreeable. For less than a second, Nasir contracted, not knowing the course of Agron's hand until it reached destination. He smiled with impossible innocence, allowing the grab taken from him, feeling at peace with it.
"You managed to find it then?" He joked upon the idea that if matching his form as others might imagine, his phallus might be too small to find. He was not of mood for the taking now, and yet he did not move Agron's grip from him. He wanted his German to take pleasure from him however casually or sordidly. "All of you think too hard upon my wounds." he said, aggravated with the reminder of why he had been confined to bed rest at all. But then, he found cause to giggle almost, the way Agron looked at him now, curious with what he fondled. "But yes, we will roll around this bed another time. And you will not be the only one with cock fulfilled." He made sure that Agron knew that, and he did so in such a smooth and inviting way. He was twice the man his size made him out to be, with loins raging just as raw as any.
Agron was not so sure he favoured being seen into like he had been, though Nasir's gentle words were the only ones to had ever said such. His hand returned to the Syrian's face and hair, finding he could part with such gentle touches more easily.
"Your eyes see more than expected-" he noted with slight nod "-and provide you words too accurate. But they are well met." Perhaps that is what drew Nasir to him, his almost seer-like ability to see into one's soul. "Yes, and I cannot tell what is fabric and what is meat." Agron smiled another dirty grin, laying his body beside Nasir's, gazes on one level.
"And these words I keep only for you." He nodded, reassuring Agron that his secrets would remain so under his safekeeping. None would make weak of Agron with Nasir at side.
"Your wounds...I think upon them because I would have you healed. Spartacus seeks to make you like a child at times...I know you are not." He would dote upon Nasir, but he would not treat him as a babe. Had Spartacus been the one to discover his ill-advised training, the result would have been detaining of his weapon, and harsh words against him. "So bold Nasir is now, when before he worried over what words were acceptable to my ears." Agron jest again, lightly, twisting strands of dark hair between his fingers, pushing it away from dark skin, resting his palm on pleasantly warm cheek.
He laughed at Agron's words, admiring his humour fondly. "With such a father, I would hope wife approved of," and after laughing a little, he realized the poor choice of words in comparison to unfolding relations. He made a quick save, "or man." He smiled, and even though it was subtle, it told Agron of how Nasir would be proud to present him to any as his taken lover. It was just like Agron not to compliment his size either, but to jest at it. Nasir found himself entertained again, and by the one thought a brute. Perhaps though he was a brute as well as good hearted. His brute. He held his face gently and then ran that same hand behind Agron's ear, stroking his head just once.
"You should go. Spartacus will surely have use of you by now. So leave me to rest then, where at least I have many things to now muse over." and clearly, he spoke of future carnal activities between he and the large German. He eyed his sword. "And do not think to take that," his quick wit added. He planned on training some more, once alone again.
"You would take away my cock just as soon as praise it? There may be issues." Agron's smirk told of how he was not really insulted by the slip in wording, when speaking in jest of future wife. Though Nasir would be proud to call him lover, Agron was not sure if the feeling was matched. His affairs were his, and he did not like others delving greedy hands into them. It had ruined those of Spartacus and Crixus, and he would not have anyone take what he may hold dear. They had already taken his brother, no more would be torn from him.
"Eat, then, while you think of what is to come. For your strength." Agron would at least have Nasir keep his hunger satisfied if he would continue to ignore the orders to cease training. "Find thrusts that ease your pain, rather than further it, if you must find any at all." He did not approve of the idea, but Nasir was his own man now. Spartacus would do well to remember that, too. "I would find you of full health soon." He placed a brief, but rough, kiss on the Syrian before standing, Nasir looking too innocent for a man of his ability and thoughts.
"Visit me later then, when time allows it." Nasir licked his lips as Agron walked from him, seeming atypically pleased with recently unearthed proceedings. Once fully alone again, Nasir quickly hid his sword beneath his bed and threw his back against his bedding. His eyes pierced the ceiling overhead in excitement as he smiled so hard that the muscles in his face seemed set to seize, for more than a few minutes. He didn't speak a word, for the Gods could hear his thoughts, and he thanked them a hundred times in those.
THE END