quigonejinn (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
quigonejinn) wrote2008-05-04 09:20 pm
quigonejinn) wrote2008-05-04 09:20 pm
Entry tags:
The Two of Them.
PLOT? WHAT PLOT? I HAVE A DIRTY MIND AND A BAD SOUL AND INSPIRATION OF THE VERY BEST SORT.
The first time Octavian mentions his sister during sex, Agrippa barely notices. They are young, after all; Octavian has just arrived from Rome with a black eye and bruised ribs. There will be meetings and introductions and strategy at dawn, for they are finally being treated as men among men, but it is currently dark, and the lawful son of Gaius Julius Caesar is in the bed of Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa. There are no lamps in the room, but Octavian takes his cock in hand and rubs it down the outside of Agrippa's thigh -- that's the slit, that's the head, that's Octavian's knuckle, dragging against Agrippa's skin.
Agrippa makes a noise, and Octavian gasps out something.
It could be Octavian's own name, of course, but it sounds more like his sister's, and Agrippa thinks, yes, of course. Octavian is homesick. He misses his family. That is why he will not speak of them.
Agrippa barely finishes the thought before he realizes that Octavian has brought their cocks together.
...
The second time Octavian mentions his sister during sex, Agrippa notices a bit more. He is slightly drunk, but at the same time, he is not quite so dizzy with lust, and the room is better lit: Octavian is having one of his periods of self-loathing, so he is abstaining. Macaenas has already disappeared with a pair of creatures, one of whom ought to a girl and the other of whom ought to be a boy, but both powdered and rouged to resemble each other. They had made Agrippa feel drunk before he actually was.
Octavian comes across the room and grips the girl by the jaw. She is on her hands and knees on a couch; Agrippa behind her. She is mostly naked, though one edge of the toga still hangs on her shoulder -- the rest lies under her in a pile, and Octavian grips her jaw hard enough that she opens her mouth and makes a little noise from the pain.
Agrippa looks up. Sweat runs down his face and torso. "Do you want her? I can get someone else."
"No." Octavian says, looking up only briefly. There is a flush on Octavian's cheeks and down his arms. He is a pale man, and he lets go of her jaw to run his hand down her breasts. They're loose and hanging beneath her body, and he goes down one side to the pink nipple, strokes it into hardness, then moves to the other nipple.
Her jaw still has a spot of white on it from his grip, and Octavian has his hand on his belt. Perhaps he will be pull up his tunic and put his cock in her mouth, Agrippa thinks, and they will have her at the same time, but he watches as Octavian, after touching the girl's breasts, takes the hairpin from her hair and makes it fall all around her shoulders in curls.
"She looks like my sister," Octavian says and pushes her face into the silk of the couch and keeps it there, holding her by the nape of the neck, until Agrippa is done.
...
It is not always like that with Octavian, of course. Self-interest and preservation alone are not enough to make Agrippa follow Octavian the way he does; there is loyalty of a deep kind between them, and it is built on shared difficulties and trust. They were friends as boys, and as men, they are a leader and general. It is as close a relationship as Octavian has with any man, and Agrippa has followed Octavian for a long time, so when it happens the third time, Agrippa knows exactly why Octavian brings up his sister: Agrippa is on his stomach, on the edge of the bed and is grateful for it.
Agrippa does not think that he could have crawled to the middle on his hands and knees and waiting like a bride.
No, it is is better to lie here and feel Octavian's hand the inside of the knee, then the top of the thigh, then above, between the legs and inside. Everywhere Octavian's hand touches, there is oil, and Agrippa's mind shies away from describing the sound made when Octavian fucks him with fingers -- they are long fingers, and there is a great deal of oil, which Agrippa, trying to be practical even in this situation, is grateful for. He will want it later, he knows, even though it currently makes him shiver to feel it running down his legs and calves. Every once in a while, too, there is something that makes Agrippa hold his breath. It shouldn't be pleasure, but it isn't quite pain: Octavian seems to take a certain pleasure in doing it with his hands. He gets three fingers entirely into Agrippa, and then, with his cock, goes all the way in on the first stroke.
He holds himself there, and when Agrippa is gasping and struggling to keep silent as a soldier should, Octavian grasps the back of Agrippa's neck an oil-slick hand and holds Agrippa's face against the bed.
It is almost unnecessary for Octavian to say his sister's name then, but he does. Agrippa should not have touched her.
...
Years pass. Octavian enters Rome as her savior, and Agrippa is elected to consulship alongside Octavian, now known as Augustus. If Agrippa ever had any suspicions about why his friend might have mentioned his sister's name so frequently, he kept them strictly to himself: he could think of sane, convincing reasons, and if, when in bed with Octavia, Agrippa might occasionally gasp the name of her brother, that is a matter between the two of them.
The first time Octavian mentions his sister during sex, Agrippa barely notices. They are young, after all; Octavian has just arrived from Rome with a black eye and bruised ribs. There will be meetings and introductions and strategy at dawn, for they are finally being treated as men among men, but it is currently dark, and the lawful son of Gaius Julius Caesar is in the bed of Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa. There are no lamps in the room, but Octavian takes his cock in hand and rubs it down the outside of Agrippa's thigh -- that's the slit, that's the head, that's Octavian's knuckle, dragging against Agrippa's skin.
Agrippa makes a noise, and Octavian gasps out something.
It could be Octavian's own name, of course, but it sounds more like his sister's, and Agrippa thinks, yes, of course. Octavian is homesick. He misses his family. That is why he will not speak of them.
Agrippa barely finishes the thought before he realizes that Octavian has brought their cocks together.
...
The second time Octavian mentions his sister during sex, Agrippa notices a bit more. He is slightly drunk, but at the same time, he is not quite so dizzy with lust, and the room is better lit: Octavian is having one of his periods of self-loathing, so he is abstaining. Macaenas has already disappeared with a pair of creatures, one of whom ought to a girl and the other of whom ought to be a boy, but both powdered and rouged to resemble each other. They had made Agrippa feel drunk before he actually was.
Octavian comes across the room and grips the girl by the jaw. She is on her hands and knees on a couch; Agrippa behind her. She is mostly naked, though one edge of the toga still hangs on her shoulder -- the rest lies under her in a pile, and Octavian grips her jaw hard enough that she opens her mouth and makes a little noise from the pain.
Agrippa looks up. Sweat runs down his face and torso. "Do you want her? I can get someone else."
"No." Octavian says, looking up only briefly. There is a flush on Octavian's cheeks and down his arms. He is a pale man, and he lets go of her jaw to run his hand down her breasts. They're loose and hanging beneath her body, and he goes down one side to the pink nipple, strokes it into hardness, then moves to the other nipple.
Her jaw still has a spot of white on it from his grip, and Octavian has his hand on his belt. Perhaps he will be pull up his tunic and put his cock in her mouth, Agrippa thinks, and they will have her at the same time, but he watches as Octavian, after touching the girl's breasts, takes the hairpin from her hair and makes it fall all around her shoulders in curls.
"She looks like my sister," Octavian says and pushes her face into the silk of the couch and keeps it there, holding her by the nape of the neck, until Agrippa is done.
...
It is not always like that with Octavian, of course. Self-interest and preservation alone are not enough to make Agrippa follow Octavian the way he does; there is loyalty of a deep kind between them, and it is built on shared difficulties and trust. They were friends as boys, and as men, they are a leader and general. It is as close a relationship as Octavian has with any man, and Agrippa has followed Octavian for a long time, so when it happens the third time, Agrippa knows exactly why Octavian brings up his sister: Agrippa is on his stomach, on the edge of the bed and is grateful for it.
Agrippa does not think that he could have crawled to the middle on his hands and knees and waiting like a bride.
No, it is is better to lie here and feel Octavian's hand the inside of the knee, then the top of the thigh, then above, between the legs and inside. Everywhere Octavian's hand touches, there is oil, and Agrippa's mind shies away from describing the sound made when Octavian fucks him with fingers -- they are long fingers, and there is a great deal of oil, which Agrippa, trying to be practical even in this situation, is grateful for. He will want it later, he knows, even though it currently makes him shiver to feel it running down his legs and calves. Every once in a while, too, there is something that makes Agrippa hold his breath. It shouldn't be pleasure, but it isn't quite pain: Octavian seems to take a certain pleasure in doing it with his hands. He gets three fingers entirely into Agrippa, and then, with his cock, goes all the way in on the first stroke.
He holds himself there, and when Agrippa is gasping and struggling to keep silent as a soldier should, Octavian grasps the back of Agrippa's neck an oil-slick hand and holds Agrippa's face against the bed.
It is almost unnecessary for Octavian to say his sister's name then, but he does. Agrippa should not have touched her.
...
Years pass. Octavian enters Rome as her savior, and Agrippa is elected to consulship alongside Octavian, now known as Augustus. If Agrippa ever had any suspicions about why his friend might have mentioned his sister's name so frequently, he kept them strictly to himself: he could think of sane, convincing reasons, and if, when in bed with Octavia, Agrippa might occasionally gasp the name of her brother, that is a matter between the two of them.