Note: I had to put this under some sort of fandom and "Greek Myth" didn't fit (it's not myth), so I put it under the "Alexander" movie. That said, it's pretty purely historical erotica, but I figure people who liked the movie, or Mary Renault, might like this. I wanted to look at ancient attitudes about sex and power. This is really graphic, but not rough. It takes place after Issos—so Alexander has Darius's big-ass tent—but before the surrender of Sidon or the siege of Tyre. Alexander isn't king of the world yet. If anyone cares, the Pergamum Alexander head is the one I think of for Alexander, and the avatar I chose is close to my mental image of Hephaistion.
"Don't tell me there's a fucking emergency."
He didn't need to look to know who'd come sauntering into the bathing chamber with a rattle of hooks sliding on brass as the curtain was pushed aside. Only one man in the army would do that without a by-your-leave.
"No emergency unless it's that the water is cooling before I get any time in it. Move over."
Alexander chuckled but obeyed as he heard the slither of a buckle being undone, then the clump of sword, scabbard, and chest belt on tent carpet. He was tempted to turn to watch his friend disrobe but decided just to enjoy the sounds and imagine. Soft rasp of a wool cloak unclipped and tossed aside, chiton following it to bare a long torso illumined by the lamps high on stands and flickering in the steam. He knew that body well and didn't need to see it to see it, the bird arch of clavicles, the dip of sternum between powerful pecs, a line of hair down his muscled belly past his navel to a black bush around heavy genitals in the bowl of his pelvis.
One leg stepped over the edge of the huge tub, then the other came down and the rest of Hephaistion followed, plopping into the water. He made waves. "Still warm." He sighed and stretched out arms along the tub edge, yellow lamplight gilding olive skin that covered elongated, ropey muscles and prominent veins. "Even in the Levant, it's cold as a Fury's tit at night in autumn."
"I thought you were coming to dinner earlier?"
"Got put on rounds; Gallestas apparently drank too much last night and spent all day puking his guts out. I got pulled in to sub."
"Fucking idiot; I hope he's getting disciplined."
"He's got three nights' duty in a row, no break but sleep and drill."
Alexander nodded and leaned his head back against the tub edge. "Good enough." He avoided intervening in the regular running of army units unless there was due cause. Officers commanded better when the king didn't micromanage.
Hephaistion was a member of the king's own Hypaspists, the agema squad-his personal infantry guard in battle, the most prestigious unit in the army after the Companion agema, which the king himself commanded. The agema of the Hypaspists was one place where the sons of upper-class Companions landed after being Pages. It had been as a Page that Alexander had first met Hephaistion. Alexander's father, Philip, had picked him, along with several others, to be Companions of the prince, probably for his family's money and his looks. Philip had always had a good eye for pretty boys. Yet neither money nor looks underlay Alexander's fondness for him.
Alexander liked a man with brains and an educated opinion, somebody who could keep up with him intellectually and wasn't afraid to push back when he disagreed.
In short, Hephaistion was willing to tell Alexander when he was being an idiot, which had got him into a prince's bed, and had kept him in a king's. To be utterly honest, though, Alexander did enjoy the pretty, and studied him now from under lowered lids. He was rinsing his hair and oiling the coarse curls. He'd grown it out a bit for winter so it brushed the nape of his neck. He had a winter beard, too; he said it kept his face warm. It took a lot more than cold weather to make Alexander give up his razor.
Shifting abruptly, Alexander leaned forward to grip Hephaistion's hair, tilting his head up, kissing him. Water ran down Hephaistion's face into both their mouths. "You're going to fucking drown me!" But that didn't stop Hephaistion from kissing back. Hard.
Hands gripped shoulders and Hephaistion sucked on Alexander's lower lip, then bit it. "Ow," Alexander said, pulling away. "What shit was that?"
"You yanked my hair."
"Is that how this is going?" Alexander pounced and water sloshed as they wrestled, laughing. It was an excuse to get wet bodies close, though Alexander had, ironically, put himself at a disadvantage by being above. Hephaistion was bigger, limbs longer. He caught the king in a firm grip, wrapping arms and legs around him, holding him still.
"Most of the blasted water is now on the carpet," Hephaistion said. It was an exaggeration. Only a third of the water was on the carpet. More importantly, Hephaistion's cock was hard against Alexander's ass. Alexander ground down on him a little.
"Oh, shit," Hephaistion groaned, eyes closing, which made Alexander grin. "Are you going to do something about that?"
"What do you want me to do?"
Hephaistion's eyes opened. They were as dark as his hair. This was new territory. They'd only started this twist a few months back, during the siege of Halikarnassos. Alexander's frustration had needed an outlet. Hephaistion had offered.
Their fucking as boys had been conventional. Hephaistion was older, if not by much, so Alexander had bottomed as a matter of course. When he'd become king, that had ceased. Kings didn't take it up the ass. Yet for Hephaistion to assume such a role was a humiliation, so they'd resorted to other means. There were plenty of creases on a human body, in addition to hands.
Until Halikarnassos. One night, everything had flipped. "Nobody knows what we're doing in here," Hephaistion had said. Alexander routinely sent even the Bodyguards, the Somatophylakes, out from the inner chamber, for privacy. "I want you in me."
So Alexander had fucked him, and both had come hard.
The next night, Hephaistion had fucked Alexander, to the same result.
They'd thrown out the rules. It had been weirdly freeing, and who in Hades cared what the soldiers gossiped. And they did gossip, as bad as women at a city fountain.
Tonight, it was Alexander's turn to straddle Hephaistion's lap. "I'm clean."
"You're in the bath, of course you're clean."
"You know what I meant. I'm clean inside."
Laughing against Alexander's mouth, Hephaistion's free hand moved down to cup Alexander's balls, forefinger moving along the little ridge of skin back to his anus, pushing just the fingertip inside. Alexander slid back on it until the whole finger was in, brushing the walnut on the anterior wall. "Ohhhh, fuuuuck."
Hephaistion moved his finger back and forth, mouth at Alexander's throat, sucking absently. After a moment, he whispered, "We should get out. Water's getting cold anyway."
"I'm fine."
"Alekos…We've never done it this way without oil. I don't want to hurt you; that's not fun for me."
This was said with embarrassment. Hephaistion was large. Not abnormal, but large. When they'd been younger, he'd been shy in the sandpit because the other boys had stared; it was a fault in his otherwise flawless form. Alexander was more properly petite in that respect.
Just now, Alexander wasn't petite. He rubbed himself to full hardness while Hephaistion's mouth fastened on a nipple, tongue playing the pebble nub as a second finger joined the first inside Alexander's ass, stretching gently and massaging the muscle. "Oh gods!" This was exquisite, not dishonoring, not if it was sought and wanted. Alexander had enjoyed it as a boy, rejected it as a king, then remembered the truth as a conqueror.
He was in charge here. And he intended to let Hephaistion know it.
Hephaistion added a third finger and Alexander had dropped his head back, panting. "In now," he ordered.
Hephaistion slouched in the tub to line up their bodies, his hands adjusting Alexander's hips. They liked doing this face-to-face, and not just to make kissing easier. For Alexander, the best part was watching his friend's expression when he spilled. "We should have oil," Hephaistion said again.
"Stop worrying. It'd only dissipate in the water."
"Maybe. Maybe not."
"Just go slow."
"You go slow. I'll let you direct this play."
He would have anyway. Hands on Hephaistion's shoulders, Alexander took him in increments. It appeared to be a pleasant torture for Hephaistion, whose eyes had squeezed shut. For Alexander, it was intense, just this side of painful. Whatever his platitudes, water wasn't oil and they hadn't done this bare since the first few times, when they'd been young and ignorant. Even with oil, they were careful. The one time they hadn't been—both too drunk, frankly—Alexander had pounded his friend so hard, Hephaistion had wound up fissured and unable to ride for two days. Alexander had felt horrible even if the sex itself had been mind-blowing at the time for both of them. The aftermath hadn't been worth it, and they'd been careful ever since.
Until tonight. Tonight, Alexander just wanted the stretching friction on his sphincter, the press of Hephaistion's hard cock on his walnut. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," Alexander muttered. "You feel amazing. Don't move. Let me adjust."
Hephaistion obeyed, rubbing Alexander's back and kissing his shoulder, the base of his neck. "I'm not going to last long," he admitted. "This angle is too good."
After a dozen breaths, Alexander began to move, controlling the motion: more rocking than thrusting. Hephaistion's lips were tight, eyes squeezed shut, his fingers on Alexander's hips digging in hard. Bending, Alexander kissed him, tongue sliding along tongue, intensifying the feeling of cock in ass. "A little faster?" Hephaistion begged. Alexander complied, his own cock pressed up against Hephaistion's belly. He wiggled his hand between to stroke it. "Let me do that," Hephaistion said, dark eyes opening finally to look down and find his goal.
"Mmm," Alexander replied as the long fingers pushed his own aside. Pleasure in one place helped ease discomfort in another, and Hephaistion was hitting his sweet spot, too, which almost made Alexander not care about anything else.
At least until Hephaistion finished. He lost his focus and pushed into Alexander hard the final few times, making the king bite his lip to keep from grunting in pain. "Sorry," Hephaistion muttered, flushed face pressed to Alexander's neck. The beard scratched.
"S'all right. It was my choice to do it this way." Alexander lifted himself off, very slowly, then turned so he could lean his back against his friend's chest. Hephaistion returned to work with both hands, one on his cock, the other gently fondling his balls. With that sort of concentrated attention, it didn't take Alexander long, although his orgasm wasn't powerful as his ass still ached. Finished, he moved out of his friend's embrace, turning so he could see him. Lifting a hand, he ran the back of it along Hephaistion's cheek. "Do you want me to shave you?"
Hephaistion grinned. "Is that a subtle way of telling me to get rid of the beard? I just got started on it; winter's coming."
"That's an excuse. You're lazy."
"I'm not lazy, I'm impatient. You spend as much time on your toilet as a damn woman."
Insulted, Alexander withdrew his hand. "I do not."
Hephaistion just laughed, then pushed Alexander back a little and rose up on his knees. Water cascaded down his body as he looked around for where the servants had put the towels, and Alexander was suddenly eye-to-penis. For just a moment, a crazy impulse made him want to lean forward and take it in his mouth, feel it harden against his tongue, kiss his lover all over, even that part which embarrassed Hephaistion the most.
Shocked by what had just run through his head, he pushed himself up hastily and accepted the towel Hephaistion gave him. They climbed out and dried off, then went into the bedchamber beyond. In the middle, sat Darius's gigantic bed—Alexander's bed, now. His new Persian servants had left honeyed treats and wine. And two cups on a table.
It seemed his Persians were no more ignorant of how many people slept here than the Somatophylakes. Alexander put off embarrassment, though he knew it was harder for his friend. Hephaistion suffered camp gossip more than Alexander because the soldiers assumed it was Alexander's cock in Hephaistion's ass, not the reverse, and Hephaistion was too old for it. Alexander suspected at least some of his Somatophylakes knew the truth, but they'd been witness to his father's many debaucheries. His own were boring in comparison. He'd had one lover and only one since he'd been fifteen years old, not counting the occasional hetaira, mostly to prove he could manage with a woman, assuring the succession. He'd found a gracious reason to get rid of the various girls quickly. It wasn't their fault he preferred a stiff gamecock to pink piglet. The Somatophyakes seemed to respect his loyalty, even if not all the soldiers did. Alexander shielded Hephaistion from speculation as much as possible. Officially, Hephaistion shared a tent with three others in his unit. In truth, he never slept there and Alexander was pretty sure most of the camp knew it.
But publicly, everyone played along. Sometimes, he wondered what his friend suffered when the king wasn't around, but Hephaistion didn't say, and Alexander refrained from asking. He had his own sources, and if he ever learned that Hephaistion was truly suffering, he'd do something about it. Otherwise, it was better not to intercede or Hephaistion would only suffer worse.