BETWEEN FATHERS AND SONS
SUMMARY: Alexander and Hephaestion now know they love one another, but love may not be enough when secrets are still being kept…
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm so glad everyone has enjoyed the first two chapters, thank you for all the reviews!CHAPTER 3 - FRIEND
The shadows were lengthening when Hephaestion finally returned to the room he and Alexander had shared with such happiness. It was all over. In a flash it was all gone. His new life here in Mieza, his friendship with Alexander, his patronage from Philip. He was now utterly alone.
Alexander had told him he loved him. Had kissed him. Had let him sleep in his bed. Increasingly Hephaestion had known that the love between them was more than the love of two friends. He had not been sure what he should do about it, if anything at all…
What was the point of thinking about it now? It was all finished! Alexander would never forgive him! He had hit a prince! He had hit Philip's son! Would they beat him? Would they execute him? Perhaps that was the kindest thing they could do! He had nowhere to go, no-one to turn to. He had a sudden pang to see his mother, even to see Laius who, after all, had always treated him with kindness –
Until he had betrayed him and his father!
Shutting out such thoughts, Hephaestion dried his eyes and stepped into his room. Grateful to find it empty, he quickly went over to his trunk to begin to pack his things. He tried to keep his hands steady but he could hardly see what he was doing for the tears blinding his eyes. He couldn't stay here tonight, he simply couldn't bare it. He would go to see Aristotle as soon as he had packed; perhaps he might be able to tell him what his fate was to be, or at least where he could go.
He started violently as the door was thrown open. Alexander stood there, gazing at him expressionlessly. The emotions surging through Hephaestion were terrible. He longed for his friend, yet a dull anger remained. Those words had been so cruel…
"Alexander…"
Alexander said nothing. He simply knelt down beside Hephaestion and took him gently into his arms. It was not an apology, but it was close to it as the proud, headstrong prince could get. Thanking all the gods for his relief, Hephaestion clung tightly and whispered tender words of love.
oooo
It was becoming unbearable. Alexander could not be in the same room as Hephaestion without wanting him; when he saw him naked in the baths or the gymnasium he could hardly control the urges of his body. It infuriated him. He had always secretly considered himself above such animal lusts, so much more moderate and self-possessed than his father, yet where Hephaestion was concerned all of his control seemed to desert him. Perhaps it was because it wasn't just sensual desire, because he was deeply in love with Hephaestion too. But he knew his love was requited, was more certain about that than he was about so many things in his life.
And it wasn't as if Hephaestion found him physically repulsive. Some evenings, when they had been curled up together on Alexander's bed sharing a book or discussing their studies, they would look into each other's eyes and smile and then their reading would be forgotten as they spent seemingly endless moments of bliss kissing and touching and whispering their love-talk.
It had never gone farther than that. Alexander was a prince, of higher rank than his love, but Hephaestion was a little older and somehow Alexander hoped, even expected Hephaestion to decide when the time was right. Who had made the first move, Alexander wondered distractedly, Achilles the prince or Patroklos the older and wiser? Who was the lover and who the beloved? Even Plato and his friends couldn't seem to make their minds up about that. Alexander couldn't imagine his hero Achilles being passive in anything, yet maybe he had behaved differently alone with Patroklos. Maybe he hadn't wanted to be a prince then, just a boy in love. Alexander knew what his father Philip would say – Alexander the prince should take control, especially with a boy so similar in age. But then what if he tried for more and Hephaestion rejected him?
He did not want to touch himself, considering it lewd and vulgar. He knew the other boys did, they openly admitted it, some even admitted to touching each other, claiming that was so much better. Alexander knew some of this was only bragging but he could not put it out of his mind. He gave in occasionally, desperate for relief – when he did so he always imagined it was Hephaestion's touch instead of his own. He tried to picture Hephaestion also alone somewhere at that moment, also touching and wishing it was Alexander instead. But when it was over he felt empty, ashamed and lonely. And still he longed for Hephaestion's touch, though more, far more, he longed to be the one touching, to be giving Hephaestion pleasure, to know that when Hephaestion laughed and moaned in ecstasy he would do so because of Alexander.
As it did so often these days, Alexander's heart skipped as he walked into his room and saw Hephaestion seated on his bed, waiting for him. His friend smiled but Alexander's throat was tight and he could think of nothing to say. Making his way over, he leaned and slowly kissed Hephaestion's mouth. The other boy's lips parted invitingly and the kiss deepened. Hephaestion slipped his hand behind Alexander's neck, rubbing rhythmically. Alexander caressed his shoulders and arms, then, breaking the kiss with a gasp, sank into a crouch before Hephaestion's knees.
"Alexander, get up!" Hephaestion giggled, "what would people think if they saw you like that!"
Alexander did not answer. He stared down at Hephaestion's thighs, strong and firm and bronzed by the sun. He slowly stroked his hands across them, provoking a small gasp from his friend, then leaned closer and pressed his lips to the warm skin. He heard Hephaestion's breath catch, felt his long fingers begin to comb through Alexander's hair. With a rush of excitement and relief, Alexander continued to press soft, moist kisses to Hephaestion's thighs, letting his hands slide down over his calves and ankles before moving them slowly into Hephaestion's lap. "I love you so much, Hephaestion…" Alexander whispered, looking into his eyes; as he did so he slipped his hand under Hephaestion's chiton.
"Alexander…!" Hephaestion pushed his hand back, his brow creasing anxiously.
"Won't you let me make love to you…?" Alexander leaned up to pull Hephaestion down for a reassuring kiss. "Oh Hephaestion, I want you so much…"
"Alexander, I…" Hephaestion shook his head, getting to his feet and turning away to the window, "I don't know… it's… you and I…"
Alexander stared at him, his chest constricting. "You do still love me…?"
"More than anything!" Hephaestion cried, turning back to face him.
"Then…" Alexander swallowed hard. "Is it that you don't want me?"
"I want you," Hephaestion whispered, hanging his head, "I want you but… I don't know! What if this is wrong! You're a prince… you're…"
"Because I'm a prince, I can't take a lover?"
"No, but… maybe not me…"
"Not you!" Alexander fought down his rising temper with difficulty. Panic choked him. For so long he had hesitated and now, when he finally tried to claim what he wanted most, it was all going wrong. "Why not you? Have I ever made you feel unworthy? Have I ever treated you as an inferior?"
"Alexander…!"
"Do you know how hard it was to – to offer myself to you like this? You're the dearest friend I've ever had! I've put my trust in you…! I let myself believe that you… that you might…"
"Alexander, please! Please don't be angry! Please, you're all I have left!"
The note of fear in Hephaestion's voice brought Alexander up short. Taking a deep breath, he held out his hands to Hephaestion who seized them at once. In the next moment they were in one another's arms. "I'm not angry," Alexander murmured as he held the other boy close, "it doesn't change anything, my love, even if you don't…"
"But I do, I…" Hephaestion gave a deep, shuddering sigh. "Just… give me time. I just need time…"
"I love you," Alexander said softly, because at that moment he did not know what else to say
oooo
He decided to look upon it as yet another act of self-mastery. He was not like his father, he would control his desires, not let them govern him. He resolved not to press Hephaestion further, to let him decide when he was ready. It was not easy; nor could Alexander pretend it did not cause tension between them. But he would not lose the one boy he truly loved over something as base and transitory as physical desire.
He firmly put it to the back of his mind as he hurried down to the stables. One of his friends had said they'd seen King Philip himself riding up just a moment before and in spite of his many anxieties about his father, Alexander could not help feeling pleased and excited that he had come all this way to see him. Perhaps he had intended to surprise him, to take him out for the day. Perhaps he had come to take him on campaign at last!
Alexander stopped dead as he saw Philip standing in the stable yard. One of his bodyguards stood at some distance, but someone else was standing next to Philip. Even with his back turned to Alexander it was easy to recognise Hephaestion. He could not hear what Philip was saying to him but a moment later, to Alexander's astonishment, Hephaestion threw his arms about the King and embraced him tightly. Philip ruffled his hair, said something softly, then let him go and mounted his horse, thrusting down his hand to pull Hephaestion up behind him. They rode away without seeing Alexander, the bodyguard riding a few feet behind.
TBC