“Thanks...”
“Anytime. So, what are we drinking?”
Marius sat down, and Kyle came back, setting their food on the table.
Marius pursed his lips. “Apparently, I’m off wine, so you have the choice between water or posca.”
Clavius raised his eyebrows. “Off wine? That’s a first for you.”
He shrugged, but his eyes were following Kyle. “Let’s drink then some of that potent little posca”. Kyle pulled a face but served it anyway, and they toasted. “To our gruesome fucking march.”
Clavius dug into the food and sighed. “I will miss Tabia’s cooking…”
“It will do good to your growing belly.”
“Hey!” They laughed and Clavius noticed, relieved, that Marius was in a better mood, his face smoother, but still just a shadow of his former self. Clavius mused, drinking. “Hey, remember when you were just a new recruit? First time we met?”
“Yes... you were bossing everybody around.”
“And you were an arrogant patrician prick. I could have torn your throat out. Come to think of it, you still are.”
They spent the rest of the dinner mildly teasing each other and remembering the old days, Kyle wordlessly changing the plates, making sure that Marius ate as much as he could, pushing the food in front of him whilst he talked.
Clavius left then, and Marius sat in silence, swirling his drink. He didn’t feel the usual fog that he had felt during his wine induced meals when he had drunk between each bite to force the food down whilst Seraphina had been spewing venom. Thankful, he reached for Kyle’s hand when he walked past. “Are you done?”
He nodded, and Marius rose, pulling him into a kiss.
Kyle grimaced. “That drink is still in your mouth...”
“So?”—Marius made him kiss him again, wide — “That’s your punishment for not serving me wine...”
Kyle smirked, gently pushing at his chest. “I don’t like wine either...”
“Oh... so what do you like, my little, picky pet?”
Kyle wordlessly sank to his knees and took him in his mouth, running his tongue down his length, taking him in deep, all the way. Marius moaned, his hands going to his head, his fingers gently gripping his hair. He started thrusting slowly, Kyle matching his moves, pushing in deeper. His gag reflex had long been gone and he let Marius fuck his mouth, relishing in his taste. Kyle felt him tense, his moves faster, erratic, and he took him in deep, holding him tight by his hips, feeling his warm cream spurt out in waves. He swallowed it as it ran down his throat, licking him dry. He pulled off, slightly out of breath, his eyes dark, and looked at him, licking his lips. Marius pulled him up with shaking hands and kissed him wide, his own taste invading his mouth.
He moaned, and Kyle pulled back. “Delicious, isn’t it?”
Marius hugged him tight, laughing, vaguely embarrassed, but thrilled at the same time.
The same routine continued for weeks, the air crisper, pine forests everywhere, and the soldiers marched nervously among the huge trees dripping water as rain had been falling for days, making their march a mild torture. So many places for the enemy to hide, even if those rebel troops had been spotted further up. They were on edge, their eyes darting towards the trees, the depth of the forest.
Marius rode in the front, his cloak soaked, the rain finding a way in through his armor, soaking his clothes and body. His horse was drenched too, gentle whisps of vapor seeping from the animal’s coat.Fuck this shit... He could hardly wait to arrive, knowing they were thankfully close, possibly arriving before sunset. He was determined to push forward, even if the roads were muddy here, the men slipping, struggling to maintain their balance with their heavy loads.
Marius had regained his strength though, his mind cleared from days and nights of drinking for months, as Kyle had steadfastly forbidden him to drink anything stronger than posca, which he had mastered to flavor differently, despite his own revulsion for the drink. Marius had also gained weight, the endless hours of riding building his muscles, his meals being soaked up by his hungry flesh. His eyes shone with a new light, nights spent in his lover’s arms, carefree, far from their enemies in Rome and his bloodsucking wife.
His eyes drifted to Clavius, who had ridden up to him, his white horse’s flanks spattered with mud. “Fucked up shithole of a mud-shit northern country... Are we stopping to set camp?”
“No, we’re pushing ahead. I want to be at the fort.”
“Yeah, makes sense... these woods are giving me the creeps... the men are on edge too.”
Marius nodded. “All the more important we’re safe tonight. How’s the back doing?”
Clavius spat, fed up with the rain. “They are struggling. The carts are getting stuck all the time. Shitty mud. I can’t believe these savages can live here in this dirt hole.”
They rode then in silence, the light dimming, and Marius thankfully saw the clearing with the fort in the misty dusk. Clavius turned his horse and rode down their line, the horns blowing, and the fort answered.
