Young Heracles ran through the courtyard, the heat of the summer's sun soaking his body with sweat. He ran barefoot, his tunic raising just enough to be able to glimpse at smooth, sun-kissed thighs. The sound of his feet slapping against the hot pavement was lost to Sadiq.

Never would the Grecian know of how he longed for his luscious thighs.

Heracles turned to find Sadiq watching him from the second storey window and his expression morphed into a pout, his slick pink tongue running over his moist lips as he turned away, running out of Sadiq's view.

Never would the Grecian know of how he longed for his sweet-tasting mouth.

He would never know of the sleepless nights, of his name whispered in spent breath, of the secretive glances sent his way, or of the endless hours spent waiting for his return.

But as long as he could watch from afar, Sadiq was okay with that.