|The Finest Persian Silk
Author: moon71 PM
Alexander needs something from Hephaestion he can’t ask for. A little Persian luxury provides the solution.Rated: Fiction T - English - Angst/Romance - Words: 2,512 - Reviews: 23 - Favs: 44 - Follows: 1 - Published: 09-29-06 - Status: Complete - id: 3174738
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
The Finest Persian Silk by Moon 71
Summary: Alexander needs something from Hephaestion he can't ask for; a little Persian luxury provides the solution.
Disclaimer: I think you know its not mine now
Rating: T for sexiness
Dedication: Originally written for Tionsbabe as a bon voyage present as the lucky cow jetted off to Egypt; inspired by a little discussion we had about Alexander's true place in the scheme of things…
It was happening more and more of late. Too often it was happening just after they had made love. In Mieza their physical love had flourished; they had progressed from simple touching and rubbing to the beautiful summer evening when they had slipped away from their residence to be alone together by the water – the evening when Alexander had asked if he might possess Hephaestion utterly. Hephaestion had not hesitated; he had dreamed of such request, though he had been too embarrassed to suggest it, knowing the act was often frowned upon. Without oil and without experience, it had been uncomfortable for both of them. But it had been good, too. And the next time it had been wonderful.
But they were not in Mieza now. They were young men; they had killed their first boars and their first men. They had served their King in war. They were growing up.
That had to be it – Alexander was trying to tell him it was time. What else could it be? It wouldn't lessen their love, only change it. They couldn't really stay lovers forever. Other men, perhaps, could manage it – but not Alexander. Not a prince. Hephaestion closed his eyes and waited.
A long pause. Anxious, Hephaestion lifted his head to look at Alexander but the other youth turned away. "Hephaestion…"
"Tell me, Alexander…"
"What does it feel like?"
Hephaestion was struck dumb. He had had his reassuring words all prepared – I know, love. I understand, love. No, it will change nothing. Of course I will always love you. Now he did not even know what to think. "What does what feel like?"
"When I'm… inside you," Alexander whispered, "when I take you…"
Still Hephaestion struggled for words. "It… feels good," he answered slowly. "Special… warm… like we're one… like it's the closest we can ever be…"
Alexander lowered his eyes, his cheeks growing very red. "But what does it feel like?"
Hephaestion felt his own face growing hot. "I… don't know how to describe it. But it's nice… exciting… when you go inside me… and when you move inside me…"
"Do you ever think you'd… like to be inside me, instead?"
Hephaestion gave a small sigh, thinking he understood. "You know what's expected, Alexander," he said, "you're the prince – "
"But you're older…"
"That doesn't matter. You know – "
"But wouldn't you like to?" Alexander demanded, suddenly sitting up, his grey eyes flashing, his brow creased in anxiety.
"Alexander," Hephaestion began, "if you're asking me if I'm tired of being the beloved, or if I'd sooner have another where I could be the lover – "
Alexander shook his head impatiently, then suddenly sprang to his feet. "It doesn't matter. We'd better get back."
Frowning, Hephaestion sat up and reached for his clothes.
"I want you to touch me," Alexander said as they had fallen together onto the spring grass, shaded by leafy trees. He would not meet Hephaestion's eyes as he took his hand and guided it between his legs. "Here."
Smiling, Hephaestion stroked the inside of Alexander's thighs, then reached for his erection, but Alexander pushed his fingers from it and drew them downward. "Here."
"Alexander…?" Hephaestion gaped stupidly at him.
"Touch me… inside," Alexander breathed. "Just for a little while…"
So Hephaestion reached for the oil, and touched him. How tight, how warm Alexander was there; forbidden longings surfaced, curiosity awoke. Barely thinking what it would mean, Hephaestion suddenly pushed Alexander's thighs further apart and settled between them. But just as he was about to lift Alexander's hips to make his entrance easier, as Alexander had done many times with him, Alexander squirmed and pushed him off.
Hephaestion fell back unresisting, as shocked and confused as Alexander appeared to be. "Forgive me…" he murmured, feeling his heart beating very quickly.
Alexander gave a small moan, rolled over onto his side away from Hephaestion, and did not answer him.
Hephaestion was willing enough; he had learned to treasure each night with Alexander just in case it was the last. He had never actually asked Alexander when he thought it might be time for them to stop, afraid of bringing the idea to the front of his mind, but it surely couldn't be much longer. Already, handsome youths were fancying their chances with the King, and it was past time he took a mistress.
"Hephaestion…" Alexander murmured against his neck, "do you love me…?"
Hephaestion grinned. He was used to such talk when Alexander was deep in his cups. "Of course I love you, my dearest Alé," he whispered.
"No matter what?"
"And you love me, don't you? Alexander? That hasn't changed? I mean… nothing would change that… now I'm a king…"
"Never!" Hephaestion declared with feeling.
Alexander squared his shoulders, looking up at Hephaestion as if to give some important command. But instead he just pulled off his chiton and threw himself down onto the bed, dragging Hephaestion down on top of him and clasping his thighs tightly about Hephaestion's hips. "Do it," he gasped fiercely. "Do it. Take me."
"Alexander…" Hephaestion tried to struggle free, fighting down the desire which rose up through his body like a fever.
"Do it! I want you to! Don't you realise? I've always wanted it!"
Hephaestion took a deep breath. All the excuses he might have made disappeared as he looked down into Alexander's candid, determined gaze and understood. "Let me get the oil," he said simply.
"No! Just do it!" Alexander cried.
Hephaestion stared at him. "Alexander, it will hurt…"
"I don't care! Pain doesn't matter! Just do it!"
All at once, passion deserted Hephaestion. He continued to look down at his lover, breathing hard. "It's an act of love, Alexander," he said quietly, "not a punishment. Let me make it good for you…"
"No! I – " Alexander's eyes clouded and he glanced away. "Leave me," he whispered. "I'm drunk. Forget it. All of it. Forget it, Hephaestion. We won't speak of it again."
So Hephaestion left him. But he didn't forget.
Hephaestion sighed in wonder. There was something especially provocative in seeing Alexander dressed in such delicate, soft garments when he himself was still clad in dusty armour, not even yet divested of his weapons. "It brings out the blue tints in the grey of your eyes," he said with a soft smile. "You look beautiful, Alexander."
Alexander stroked the fine material wistfully. "They say arrows can't pierce it," he murmured. "Strength and beauty combined. Just like you, my Hephaestion."
"Well naturally," Hephaestion replied, his eyes fixed upon Alexander's, "I must be beautiful and strong if I am Alexander too…"
Alexander's gaze burned into his, fire meeting fire. Hephaestion could see how much it had delighted Alexander to be able to say those words to the mother of King Darius just days ago; it had delighted him more than all the luxuries and curiosities within Darius' lavish enclosure. For Hephaestion the words were like intoxicating wine, warming his body and illuminating his heart and mind with golden sunshine.
"You've taken the bed, I see," he observed casually, nodding towards the large, elaborately carved bed with its glistening silks and plush furs.
"I haven't tried it yet," Alexander answered with a small smile. "Do you think I'll be able to sleep amidst such luxury?"
Hephaestion did not answer. He caught at Alexander's robe and stroked the fine fabric. "Silk," he remarked thoughtfully. "You say an arrow can't…penetrate it? How about a blade…?" And before Alexander could protest, Hephaestion drew the sword from his belt and slashed the garment through. To his satisfaction, Alexander backed away just slightly, though whether in the spirit of the game or in genuine surprise, Hephaestion was not sure. Hephaestion advanced slowly upon him until Alexander was caught between his lover and the bed, then reached out and ripped the garment from Alexander's body. Blinking warily, Alexander sat down on the bed, watching as Hephaestion tore the beautiful turquoise silk into strips. For a second Hephaestion concentrated only on his work; then he laid his sword aside and looked down at Alexander.
"Lie down," he said, his voice a low growl. Silently Alexander did so. Did he understand? He must, at least on some level; but maybe not completely. There might be some doubt – but that, in itself, was exciting. Hephaestion caught his left wrist and tied it to the bedpost with one of the silken strips. Then he stood back, watching. Alexander did not move, just looked up at him expectantly. Catching his breath, he bound Alexander's other wrist.
Keeping his motions slow, Hephaestion leaned over him, bringing his lips very close to Alexander's. His lover strained up to kiss them, but Hephaestion drew back, smiling. He could see the emotions passing quickly in Alexander's eyes –anticipation, excitement…fear… yes, just a little fear. Hephaestion wanted to embrace him, but he knew if he did the game would be over, the chance lost. Moving lower, he pushed Alexander's legs apart, planting kisses on the inside of his thighs, exploring with his lips and tongue, deliberately ignoring Alexander's moans.
Then he rose, moving slowly, rubbing a hand down his leather corselet and knowing Alexander was watching him. He took a phial of sweetly scented oil from the table, tipped some into his cupped hand, rubbed it between his fingers, then looked across at Alexander. "If I am Alexander," he said very softly, "then you must be Hephaestion… so doesn't matter… does it, my beautiful love?"
Alexander did not answer. But he kept his legs as Hephaestion had left them, and did not pull away when Hephaestion knelt between them, slipping one hand under his bottom to lift him very slightly before entering him with his fingers, rubbing gently. Alexander moaned and strained against his bonds. Hephaestion withdrew.
"No…" Alexander gasped, "don't… do that again!"
"Don't do that again?" Hephaestion questioned, leaning closer to brush kisses over Alexander's belly, "you mean you want me to stop?"
"Do it again!" Alexander hissed.
"Are you giving orders to your King…?" Hephaestion grinned, but let his fingers slide back again.
It was only when Alexander was mewling helplessly under him and he knew he was ready that Hephaestion felt real trepidation about what he was going to do. All his instincts still fought to ask permission, to be sure, absolutely sure, and he had a sudden wish that he had understood this years ago, when they were still young enough to be reckless. But he had been so deeply in love then that it had never mattered. It still didn't matter to him, in so many ways, least of all now, when the worry of Alexander giving him up seemed a distant memory. But it mattered to Alexander. And the game had to be played out, this first time at least.
He didn't ask if Alexander was ready for him. He didn't warn him. He just pulled at Alexander's hips and entered him, pushing slowly but firmly and stifling Alexander's cries with kisses. And by all the gods it felt good; with any boy or man, he supposed it would have felt good enough; but this was his Alexander, and he was inside him and was welcomed. He could feel Alexander's frustration, knew he wanted to wrap his arms about Hephaestion and clutch him tight; knew what Alexander felt because he had felt it himself so many times. Laughing, Hephaestion deliberately drew back, then took pity on him and gathered him into his arms, nuzzling his neck and whispering words not of love, not this time, but of possession, letting Alexander feel the unyielding corselet against his bare chest.
"Alexander!" he cried as he reached his climax, though whether he was calling out his lover's name or declaring his own conquest he himself was never sure.
Hephaestion slipped his hand under Alexander's pillows, drew out the dagger he knew would be there and slashed through the silk bonds. Wincing slightly, Alexander flexed his arms, then reached up and took Hephaestion's face in his hands. "I…" he began, his voice not quite steady. "That was... I wanted… Hephaestion…"
He couldn't say it; then the game would be ruined. Perhaps later; now the barrier had been broken down. Hephaestion leaned in to kiss him. "I understand…" he breathed against Alexander's ear, "I understand… my King."