Clavius clasped his shoulder. “Kyle... don’t torture yourself.”
The young man just turned and left him, his eyes burning.
They met on the training grounds, Marius buckling his leather armor, waiting for him, his eyes asking.
Clavius smiled, tense. “So, let’s start this little training before our fat flows out.”
Marius laughed softly. “What fat?”
Clavius noticed that indeed he did not have an ounce of excess fat, if anything, he was leaner... He shrugged. “You lost weight. That doesn’t count. I have an African cook.”
Marius swirled his gladius, looking at him. “Too bad for you.”
But his banter was forced, and Clavius walked up to him, clasping his shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I have nothing for you...”
He nodded, grim, and his shoulders sagged.
Clavius searched his eyes. “Give him more time... he’s still hurting...”
Marius sighed. “Me too... every fucking day... tell him I love him. Just tell him. I don’t care if he hates me...” His voice choked, and he pushed his helmet on his head, gesturing to him. “Come on, fat boy, show me what you’re made of.”
But a couple of weeks later, Marius had been due for dinner at Clavius’ house, and he was waiting in the small garden, noticing how tidy it was. The old slave had led him there and had asked him to wait, the masters being busy dressing. Marius frowned as he was not early, but waited anyway, silently fuming. He had given up meeting Kyle, his mind trying to blank him out of existence, but he was in a miserable state, his nerves eating at his body. He had lost weight again, and he felt his tunic too loose. Marius didn’t care though, leaning against a small cherry tree, his eyes on the flowers in the leaves.
Kyle walked in, carrying a tray with drinks, not knowing whom the guest was he had to serve, and he froze, seeing him standing there like a ghost. Their eyes locked, and the tray cluttered to the floor, the jug and cups shattering. Kyle stood there, heaving, in shock, ready to fly, and Marius didn’t dare move, his eyes silently pleading him. Kyle noticed how gaunt he had become, the dark shadows on his face, those blue eyes drowning in sorrow. Marius’ lips parted, and he sighed, lowering his head, defeated, and Kyle’s heart lurched in his throat.
He rushed to him, knocking Marius against the tree, his hands fisting his black hair, pulling his head back, slamming his mouth on his mouth, feeling how cold his lips were. Kyle pushed his mouth open with his jaw, pushing his tongue in, Marius' taste invading him, his love mingling with his anger at him, his teeth bruising the tender flesh of his lips. He pushed against him, not letting him breathe, pinning him against the tree, tearing at his hair and Marius whimpered, crying softly from relief and pain.
His arms went around Kyle’s waist, but he didn’t try to take over. Marius let Kyle eat him up, just feeling his body against him, his teeth and lips bruising him, choking the air out of his lungs. Marius would not push him away though, and Kyle sensed it, feeling him fight for air. He broke the kiss, heaving, his hands not letting go of his hair, his body crushing him into the tree’s hard bark. He looked up into his tortured blue eyes, his lips red from his teeth, panting.
Kyle tugged at his hair; his grey eyes filled with wrath. “I am still fucking pissed at you...”
Marius nodded, dazed. “I know...” His arms fell to his sides, his whole body relaxing, giving in to him, and Kyle watched him, mildly thrilled, not seeing his usual sarcastic, superior smile.
His grey eyes turned darker and Marius waited, his breath caught, a soft moan escaping his mouth when Kyle twisted his fist in his hair. “You’d deserve so much more pain...”
He panted, his eyes darkening. “Yes... I am so sorry, pet...” Kyle closed his eyes at his pleading and Marius thought he had lost him again. Without thinking, he sank to his knees, and Kyle’s eyes flew open, his hand still in his hair, looking down into his blue eyes. “I am sorry...”
Kyle breathed. “Are you begging?”
Marius nodded; his lips parted. “Yes... please forgive me.”
Kyle knelt in front of him, mildly dazed, his hand unfurling in his hair, caressing the pain away. He kissed him deep, his hands on the back of his head and on his neck, his tongue warmly stroking his mouth, his tongue, his teeth. “I forgive you...” Marius cried softly, and Kyle cradled his face, kissing his tears away, shutting his eyes to the unbearable pain of seeing him so vulnerable, on the ground. He got up, pulling him up, his eyes dark with lust, whispering against Marius’ mouth. “Masters should not kneel...”
“I’d do anything for you...”
Kyle smiled. “Watch what you’re asking for...” He took his hands, slowly pulling him to his room.
They barely fit, Marius’ huge frame filling that tiny room, but he didn’t mind, his hands trembling as he held himself back, letting Kyle lead their dance, and the slave peeled their tunics off, all the while looking into his eyes.
Marius felt it, how fragile this was, and he had to close his eyes when Kyle’s hand grazed his erection, his breath shuddering. “Look at me.” His eyes flew open and Kyle smiled thinly. “Don’t close your eyes... I want to see you...” Kyle could barely contain himself either, fighting the urge to surrender to Marius or continue toying with him.
Marius swallowed, sinking to his knees again, his eyes not leaving Kyle’s, his lips parting. Kyle’s breathed hitched when he took him in his mouth and he swayed, Marius’ hands cupping his bottom, kneading the flesh. Kyle moaned, letting him suck him, their moans filling the room, and he pulled out, not wanting to lose it. He shoved Marius on the shoulders, and he crawled on the narrow bed, Kyle climbing between his thighs, swallowing his cock whole. His back arched, and he growled, not daring to touch Kyle’s head.
Kyle watched him writhe and moan, bringing him close and then pulling off, kissing him wide. “Not yet...”
Marius sighed but waited, panting. Kyle straddled him and lowered himself on him, pushing in his rock-hard cock coated in his saliva. Marius eyes rolled back as he rode him, pushing him in to the hilt, grinding his hips.
Kyle leant over him, cupping his jaw. “Look at me...”
