"Alexander."
Sweet Hephaestion whispers to me from the bed, trying to lure me from my planning. He truly has been sent from Hades to torment me in this world with the temptation of bliss.
"You are supposed to be sleeping, my love," I chide him and I can hear his low chuckle. I risk a glance around and I can just make out the glint of his eyes in the darkness. I had long since extinguished the lamp beside him and worked by candlelight. There was so much to be done; letters to respond to and battle plans to be decided. It was wearying work and Hephaestion would no doubt find it easy to entice me to his warmth. Nevertheless, I enjoy his efforts.
"How could I sleep when my Achilles worries?"
I smile at his use of that name. It strengthens our bond in a way. To have that comparison. For me it is a reminder that he will be here with me until the very last moment he can. For him, I believe it is a way for him to know that I cherish him above all others. I could never love anyone quite the same way in which I do him. He is not merely comfort or company. He is my heart and my soul. He is the embodiment of all the qualities I wish that I possessed.
"How could I not worry when my Patroclus is wounded?"
His hint of a smirk is the reassurance I need to see. He is not angry with me for straying from his company. He is never angry with me; even at the times when he ought to be. Instead when he speaks, he speaks in a way I will understand. He appeals to my passions and never makes a fool of me. I rise from the table and sit on the edge of the bed as he reclines; stretching out a hand to brush his fingers against the fabric of my robe.
I touch his finger with my own. It is gentle and almost akin to our nervousness when our love first blossomed. His eyes shine up at me and he looks to be peaceful here.
"I worry that a heavy battle would be the worse for you if you have not yet recovered from your injuries," I tell him quietly. If he had spoken the words to me I should have laughed at him, demanded he bring me my sword so that I can demonstrate my capability. But that is not Hephaestion. He feels nothing to prove, only guilt for being the cause of any distress on my part.
"You wish me not to fight?"
I watch the glint of our rings as our fingers dance together and I am annoyed at myself when I nod.
"How could I face the enemy when the enemy is my own fear for you?"
"You truly are Achilles," he says dryly. "Perhaps I shall simply slip on your armour and go to war. We shall truly be the myth then," he laughs. He blinks in surprise when I clasp his hand in mine.
"I have said it before, a thousand times my love. If you should fall I will follow you."
"To the Elysian fields," he nods with a sigh.
"No. Anywhere. Even to the gates of Hades. I am nothing without you," I tell him. My eyes burn and I have to blink to contain myself. He cannot understand how it feels to look upon him and remember each moment as children that he corrected me. Each time he showed me where I could be stronger and better. When he was the only person I let hold me when the world became too much. When he became my world; my sunrise and evening moon.
He does not protest when I move to lean over him. Our eyes lock and he is showing me that he needs me as he parts his lips hopefully. It almost makes me laugh and as I lean down to press my lips to his, he whimpers. I still from the noise that sets panic within me.
"Have I hurt you? What's wrong, my love?"
"You have not hurt me. It is the thought of losing this; of losing you, that hurts me. This is surely paradise and I will awaken like every other morning."
I pull back a little.
"You dream of me, Phai?"
Even in the darkness I can tell he is blushing.
"Always my king. There is no other."
That is the spark that kindles the fire in me until it burns brighter than a thousand suns. He cries out when I can no longer take being apart from him and ravage his lips with my own. It is sloppy and unskilled and does no justice to the art of lovemaking and still Hephaestion moans and sighs as though he is a love-struck boy once again. The thought that he is mine and mine alone creates a passion in me. I want to ensure that he knows he is my Erastes. Everyone else pales in comparison to his beauty and his charm.
I pull back the sheets, pleased that on this fine night there was no need for underclothes. He gives me a smile so warm it throws me off guard for a moment. I smile back and I feel carefree. I revel in the shiver he gives as I smooth my hands along his thighs, starting above the bandages on his leg and ensuring I do not cause him discomfort. He allows me to gently nip at his hip bones and lick at his flesh.
His hands reach down to meet mine at his waist and he arches his back into my touch. I am teasing him, I know. I love the feeling of control he affords me but I love the challenge he presents. Unlike the Eunuch boy, Hephaestion is not here for my pleasure. Each moan and bite of his lip is genuine. He does not let me win here as he never did whilst wrestling.
"More," he says simply. I oblige and step down in my role as King. With Phai I am simply Alexander and in a very un-kingly fashion I take him in my mouth. I relish the deep groan he gives and I force myself to watch as his eyes roll back in pure pleasure. I suppose he is saying my name but it all sounds quite garbled and breathy. I hear the word 'good' and pick up the pace in the way that after all our years as lovers, I know drives him wild. His breath quickens and his hands clench mine tightly. I pull away and his eyes snap open to look at me.
"Alexander," he whines, knowing from experience where this leads but still unhappy about the absence of release. I silence him with a look as I retrieve some oil, saying nothing as I help him to turn over. It will be easier on his leg this way. I make very little show of it and force my fingers in, feeling pleasure and guilt as he cries out from my ministrations. It is not long however before his quiet moans of discomfort give way to shivers of pleasure. He leans back into my touch and turns his head so that I may kiss him languidly. I use a little more oil to cover myself and enter him as gently as I can, laying atop him and threading my arms through his to hold him to me. The darkness heightens each sound and sensation.
His skin is warm and smooth under my touch, the feel of his lips on mine; wet but firm. The furs beneath us provide a gentle caress and his silken hair glides across my cheek as I lean in to gently nip at his ear. Being this close I feel the vibration of his moans and they pulse through me. His hands reach behind him to rest on my sides and I distract myself from the familiar yet exquisite feel of him as I allow him to adjust. I feel a moment of pity for the boy Bagoas that he does not experience this kind of love with someone. For with Hephaestion I feel I know my place in this world, and that I will not be alone in the next. My mother had told me he was a gift to me from the gods, someone loyal to stay beside me as I conquered the world. No one else compares.
I find myself thinking on Cleitus and how he had reached out to stroke Hephaestion's face, calling him to his bed. I cannot take it any longer and the remembrance of Cleitus makes me want to claim the man beneath me. To remind him, myself and anyone else who should question it, who is heart belongs to. Who his mind belongs to. Who is body belongs to. I move erratically and with force and I can tell I have taken Phai by surprise but he does not protest. The pleasure it gives me is indescribable. From the sensations, yes, but more from the idea that he will do anything to please me and to ensure my happiness.
He tries to say my name but each thrust cuts him off until he is simply grunting from the exertion. Reaching forward I wrap my arm around his neck in a choking hold and his muscles tense as he takes in the situation. I feel every minute movement as his body contracts and then relaxes. The hold I have on him is so intimate. He is trusting me not to hurt him and I oblige, kissing his neck and panting into his ear to show him the pleasure he gives me.
"I love you," I manage to say though it sounds strangled. It is almost as though it is my words that send him into a violent climax and I am sure the guards outside the door are trying their best either to listen attentively or ignore completely. If they did not know it was General Amyntor in the room with me I am sure they would presume I was being murdered given the sounds.
"Oh gods, Alexander," he whispers as his muscles spasm. I hold onto him tightly, holding off my own release to be sure that he is alright. I move to withdraw from him but he stills me with a gentle touch.
"Proceed," he says and I can hear it is with a smirk. I do not move and he practically growls at me.
"Damn it, Alexander. Move!"
It is all the assurance I need and I am more forceful than I intended as I use him to reach my own climax. He whimpers loudly, no doubt from the over-stimulation but he does not stop me. I feel his body relax when I do withdraw but we do not move from our intimate embrace.
"We haven't done that since-"
I hush him and smile. I recall the last time well. We have of course been together quite frequently over the last while but I know he means the very first time. We had stayed out to look at the stars, to tell the stories of the heroes and I could no longer hide my feelings for him; my most devoted of friend. The most captivating and the most beautiful. It had been rather embarrassing, messy and no doubt painful for Hephaestion. But it is the fondest memory I have and I hope the very last thought I have in this life.
"I remember well enough, Patroclus."
He stretches beneath me and I kiss the nape of his neck. We lay entwined together until I shift to my side so as to be more comfortable. I marveled at my fortune to have him as my own and offered up a silent prayer of thanks to the gods. Without him I would be nothing.
I kiss his nose and he grins like a child. I laugh when he steals a kiss from my lips and entwines our fingers before closing his eyes and allowing Hypnose to lead him away.
"Dream of me," I whisper and join him.