Fic: Romans & Britons
It's a sequel to my last fic, Rewards.
Stayed up most of the night writing this! It's not great but at least it's finished. One less thing to worry about :-) Written for Round 3 of the Eagle Fanmedia Challenge - inspired by the picture of the Roman Erotica
Marcus folded his arms behind his head and let out a long happy sigh, relaxing into a haze of post-coital contentment. Six months together and every time still felt like the first time.
“We’ve been invited to a party,” he muttered, suddenly remembering the invitations that had arrived that morning.
Esca looked up from where he was mapping a rather elaborate trail around Marcus’ chest with his tongue.
“When?”
“Two weeks on Saturday. You up for it?”
“What kind of party is it? Tea and cake in the parlour or sex and drugs and rock’n’roll?”
“It’s a Romans and Britons theme so probably a bit of both.”
“Sounds interesting.” Esca shuffled himself up until he had an elbow at either side of Marcus’ head, looming over him. “Whose party is it?”
“Just some guy. His name’s Placidus; rich, spoilt, has a love/hate relationship with Cottia. One minute they’re at each others throats, next minute they’ve got their tongues down each others throats.”
“Sounds disturbing.”
“He’s ok. Come on, it’ll be fun. And it’ll be worth it just to see some of the stuff in the house. His dad’s a politician or something, owns one of the largest collections of Roman erotica outside of a museum. Some of it is supposed to be pretty risqué.”
Esca bobbed his head down for a kiss.
“I love it when your inner pervert makes an appearance.”
“Since I’ve been seeing you, my inner pervert is on-call twenty four seven.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve got a permanently aching arse to prove it!”
“I’ve never heard you complain. And you’ve had your revenge on my ass plenty of times.”
Esca rolled off him and stretched like a cat, yawning loudly before snuggling into Marcus’ side.
“So, Romans and Britons huh?” he said.
“Yep.” Marcus reached over and started to comb his fingers through Esca’s unruly mop of hair. “I’ll throw on a toga, you paint yourself blue and wear a kilt.”
“Nah, I see you more as a centurion, all gleaming breastplates and swords.”
“Where am I going to find a costume like that that doesn’t cost the earth?”
“We’ll find one.”
“What about you?”
Esca smiled up at him, one of those slow suggestive smiles that always made Marcus’ cock twitch in renewed interest.
“I’ll be your slave.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“If we get stopped by the police, I will die of shame,” Marcus grumbled. “Hello Officer, yes I always dress like this. The guy next to me? Why, he’s my slave of course and the woman in the back is Boudicca, the warrior queen.”
“I told you we should’ve got a cab,” piped up Cottia from behind him.
Marcus glared at her reflection in the rear-view mirror.
“Yeah, you also told me that you were going to organise the cab! But you didn’t and by the time I found out, it was too late and they said we’d have to wait almost an hour.”
Cottia blew him a raspberry.
“Did I tell you how fabulous you look in that costume? Esca, doesn’t he look fab?”
Esca turned around to face her from the passenger seat.
“He looks hot,” he agreed, grinning widely.
“I look like an extra from Ben Hur.”
“You were born to wear that costume.”
“I’ve already agreed to drive you reprobates home tonight. You don’t have to keep being nice to me.”
“We love you Marcus!” trilled Esca and Cottia in unison.
Ten minutes later, after showing their invitations to a burly security guard, they pulled up at the end of an impressive driveway and piled out of the car; Marcus in his centurion’s costume, Cottia in a long sheath dress with a spear, a shield and her long red hair tumbling wildly down her back and Esca dressed as a slave. His costume was simple; sandals, leggings and an old plain tunic, all borrowed from Cottia which, as Marcus had pointed out, actually made him a cross-dressing slave.
Marcus adjusted his cingulum militare and put his red-crested helmet on, tying it under his chin.
“This thing is so uncomfortable. I bet it leaves a scar.”
“Spoken like a true Roman,” Cottia quipped.
“How do I look?”
“Amazing. You go in first,” Esca said, bowing slightly. “I know my place.”
“Sort it out between yourselves boys, I need a drink.” Cottia swept past them both. “Oh look, here comes our host. Brace yourselves.”
Placidus was bearing down on them, dressed in the long robes of an emperor, a crown of gold-coloured laurel leaves perched on top of his head.
“Cottia.” He kissed her on both cheeks.
“Hello P.”
“You look lovely as always. Who have you come as?”
“Boudicca, queen of the Iceni, scourge of Rome.”
“Great. Hello Marcus.” They shook hands. “You’ve come as a soldier.”
“A centurion.”
“Whatever. I take it this is the new boyfriend.” He gave Esca a look that suggested he was only marginally more impressed than he would have been if Marcus had turned up with a flea-bitten old hobo on his arm. “What are you meant to be?”
“I’m his slave.”
“Of course you are.”
“A barbarian slave taken in war,” Cottia said dramatically. “He’s feisty and bitter towards his Roman master but they’ve secretly got the hots for each other. Lots of long meaningful looks and unresolved sexual tension.”
She grinned at Marcus and headed off towards where the drinks were being served. Marcus put an arm around Esca’s shoulder.
“Yeah, what she says.”
Placidus looked down his rather elegant nose at them for a moment.
“Help yourselves to drinks,” he said finally. “Anything you want. There are nibbles if you’re hungry. Take a look around the house, have a good time.”
He adjusted the crown of laurels on his head and trailed off after Cottia.
“What does she see in him?” Esca asked.
“God knows.” Marcus waved at some other people he knew. “Give it half an hour, they’ll be arguing. It’s usually quite a show.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“You don’t even look like an emperor, you pompous moron! You just look like some bloke in his grandma’s nightdress who’s been standing under a tree that’s shedding its leaves.”
“Says you, dressed as some old trout from the Dark Ages.”
Marcus could picture what was about to happen even before Cottia grabbed his beer.
“I’m Boudicca!” she snapped, squaring up to Placidus. “She ate Romans for breakfast, emperors included! She was a badass mo-fo, as they used to say in the Dark Ages.”
She raised the bottle and proceeded to tip the contents over Placidus’ head.
“Jesus, woman! What are you doing?” he wailed.
“Something I’m sure most people here have thought about doing at some point.”
A few voices from somewhere cheered in response as she handed Marcus back the empty bottle and flounced off through the open French doors into the garden.
“That’s the last time I invite you anywhere!” Placidus shouted after her.
“You say that every time I see you,” she threw back over her shoulder without breaking her stride. “You can’t live without me.”
“This is a great party,” Marcus said to Placidus, saluting him sarcastically with the empty bottle.
“Fuck off.”
“Nice.”
As soon as Placidus had gone, Esca burst out laughing.
“Are they for real?”
“Believe me,” Marcus nodded his head and went to take a drink from his beer before remembering that it had just been dumped all over Placidus’ laurels, “this is perfectly normal for them.”
“He seems a bit of a tosser.”
“Yeah. He really does throw great parties though and all this is like water off a duck’s back. He thrives on it. Come on, I could do with some fresh air.”
They wandered out into the garden and over to Cottia, who was perched on the side of an elaborate fountain, her shield and her spear propped up next to her.
“You ok?” Marcus asked her, even though he was pretty sure what the answer would be.
“Seriously?” She started cackling like a witch. “That was great! I’ve always wanted to do that to someone.”
“You are unbelievable. That was my one and only beer!”
“You were impressed, both of you. I can tell.”
“It’s like some bizarre mating ritual with you and him. I don’t get it.”
Cottia shrugged.
“He’s a jerk but he’s cute. I’ll make it up to him.”
“Speaking of mating rituals,” Esca grabbed Marcus’ hand and headed back into the house. “Let’s go find the Roman porn you promised me was here. Boudicca can look after herself for a while.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“Jesus! This stuff must be priceless!”
Marcus followed Esca into the room at the end of a long hallway and felt his jaw drop.
“I guess this is the legendary collection of Roman erotica. Also known as porn.”
There were several display cases containing pieces of artwork and pottery painted with nudes and giant phalluses and the far wall was covered with what looked like parts of old frescoes depicting naked people in various sexual positions; men and women, men and men, women and women, groups and even….
“Is that a goat?” Esca squinted at one particularly faded coupling.
“I think it’s the god Faunus. You know, Pan?”
“Just looks like a bog-standard goat to me.” He started laughing and Marcus couldn’t help but join him. “Filthy bastards!”
“Loads of digs have turned up things like these in normal, everyday Roman houses although most of them would likely be from brothels or the houses of the mega rich and powerful who liked to flaunt their debauched sex lives.”
“It’s kind of a turn-on.”
Marcus shook his head, glancing towards the door.
“We can’t do anything here.”
“You sure?” Esca moved closer.
“I’m sure.”
“Really?”
Esca bit his lip and gave Marcus his best seductive look.
It worked.
It always worked.
~~~~~~~~~~
Marcus slid a hand around the back of Esca’s neck and kissed him, his brain shorting out as all his blood drained into his rapidly growing erection.
“So.” Esca dropped slowly onto his knees and snaked a hand up under Marcus’ tunic. “You’re a Roman. I’m your slave.”
“And a good slave should serve his master,” Marcus whispered as he leaned back against the wall and stroked Esca’s hair.
This was never going to get old, he thought to himself; the wet heat of Esca’s mouth sucking him in, the solid press of his tongue, the firm but careful scrape of his teeth. Marcus let his head fall back, an endless stream of grunts and groans escaping from him as Esca went to town, sucking and licking, his moans vibrating around Marcus’ painfully hard cock.
“Oh god, Esca, that feels so good.”
Esca hummed in response, sending sparks up the length of Marcus’ cock to settle at the base of his spine. Marcus looked down at him, taking in the sight of his cock sliding in and out of Esca’s perfect mouth as other random images started to flit through his mind; snippets of the ancient erotic paintings around them, Esca’s face and his beautiful blue-grey eyes, Marcus’ own hands on Esca’s skin, the bite mark he’d made a week ago that he knew was still visible on the inside of one of Esca’s thighs.
“I’m so close, baby, so close.”
Esca’s rhythm started to falter as his hand moved faster on himself and his moans of pleasure changed into something more desperate until he made a whimpering noise and his hand stilled. He kept on sucking hard though and when Marcus felt the head of his cock hit the back of Esca’s throat once, twice, three times, he was coming, biting his lip to stop himself from crying out too loud as Esca swallowed greedily.
They stayed like that for a minute or two; Marcus braced against the wall, still stroking Esca’s hair, Esca on his knees with his forehead pressed into Marcus’ groin.
“You can keep the costume for a few more days, right?” Esca got back onto his feet, his cheeks flushed. He wiggled his eyebrows and Marcus grinned.
“Maybe. What have you got in mind?”
“Oh, just a few ideas on how to please my Roman master.”
“Your master already is pleased. Very pleased.” Marcus reached one hand down to squeeze Esca’s arse and used the other to tilt his chin up so he could kiss him, running his tongue over Esca’s lips and tasting himself. “Just promise me something.”
“What?”
“No goats.”
The End.
Stayed up most of the night writing this! It's not great but at least it's finished. One less thing to worry about :-) Written for Round 3 of the Eagle Fanmedia Challenge - inspired by the picture of the Roman Erotica
Marcus folded his arms behind his head and let out a long happy sigh, relaxing into a haze of post-coital contentment. Six months together and every time still felt like the first time.
“We’ve been invited to a party,” he muttered, suddenly remembering the invitations that had arrived that morning.
Esca looked up from where he was mapping a rather elaborate trail around Marcus’ chest with his tongue.
“When?”
“Two weeks on Saturday. You up for it?”
“What kind of party is it? Tea and cake in the parlour or sex and drugs and rock’n’roll?”
“It’s a Romans and Britons theme so probably a bit of both.”
“Sounds interesting.” Esca shuffled himself up until he had an elbow at either side of Marcus’ head, looming over him. “Whose party is it?”
“Just some guy. His name’s Placidus; rich, spoilt, has a love/hate relationship with Cottia. One minute they’re at each others throats, next minute they’ve got their tongues down each others throats.”
“Sounds disturbing.”
“He’s ok. Come on, it’ll be fun. And it’ll be worth it just to see some of the stuff in the house. His dad’s a politician or something, owns one of the largest collections of Roman erotica outside of a museum. Some of it is supposed to be pretty risqué.”
Esca bobbed his head down for a kiss.
“I love it when your inner pervert makes an appearance.”
“Since I’ve been seeing you, my inner pervert is on-call twenty four seven.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve got a permanently aching arse to prove it!”
“I’ve never heard you complain. And you’ve had your revenge on my ass plenty of times.”
Esca rolled off him and stretched like a cat, yawning loudly before snuggling into Marcus’ side.
“So, Romans and Britons huh?” he said.
“Yep.” Marcus reached over and started to comb his fingers through Esca’s unruly mop of hair. “I’ll throw on a toga, you paint yourself blue and wear a kilt.”
“Nah, I see you more as a centurion, all gleaming breastplates and swords.”
“Where am I going to find a costume like that that doesn’t cost the earth?”
“We’ll find one.”
“What about you?”
Esca smiled up at him, one of those slow suggestive smiles that always made Marcus’ cock twitch in renewed interest.
“I’ll be your slave.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“If we get stopped by the police, I will die of shame,” Marcus grumbled. “Hello Officer, yes I always dress like this. The guy next to me? Why, he’s my slave of course and the woman in the back is Boudicca, the warrior queen.”
“I told you we should’ve got a cab,” piped up Cottia from behind him.
Marcus glared at her reflection in the rear-view mirror.
“Yeah, you also told me that you were going to organise the cab! But you didn’t and by the time I found out, it was too late and they said we’d have to wait almost an hour.”
Cottia blew him a raspberry.
“Did I tell you how fabulous you look in that costume? Esca, doesn’t he look fab?”
Esca turned around to face her from the passenger seat.
“He looks hot,” he agreed, grinning widely.
“I look like an extra from Ben Hur.”
“You were born to wear that costume.”
“I’ve already agreed to drive you reprobates home tonight. You don’t have to keep being nice to me.”
“We love you Marcus!” trilled Esca and Cottia in unison.
Ten minutes later, after showing their invitations to a burly security guard, they pulled up at the end of an impressive driveway and piled out of the car; Marcus in his centurion’s costume, Cottia in a long sheath dress with a spear, a shield and her long red hair tumbling wildly down her back and Esca dressed as a slave. His costume was simple; sandals, leggings and an old plain tunic, all borrowed from Cottia which, as Marcus had pointed out, actually made him a cross-dressing slave.
Marcus adjusted his cingulum militare and put his red-crested helmet on, tying it under his chin.
“This thing is so uncomfortable. I bet it leaves a scar.”
“Spoken like a true Roman,” Cottia quipped.
“How do I look?”
“Amazing. You go in first,” Esca said, bowing slightly. “I know my place.”
“Sort it out between yourselves boys, I need a drink.” Cottia swept past them both. “Oh look, here comes our host. Brace yourselves.”
Placidus was bearing down on them, dressed in the long robes of an emperor, a crown of gold-coloured laurel leaves perched on top of his head.
“Cottia.” He kissed her on both cheeks.
“Hello P.”
“You look lovely as always. Who have you come as?”
“Boudicca, queen of the Iceni, scourge of Rome.”
“Great. Hello Marcus.” They shook hands. “You’ve come as a soldier.”
“A centurion.”
“Whatever. I take it this is the new boyfriend.” He gave Esca a look that suggested he was only marginally more impressed than he would have been if Marcus had turned up with a flea-bitten old hobo on his arm. “What are you meant to be?”
“I’m his slave.”
“Of course you are.”
“A barbarian slave taken in war,” Cottia said dramatically. “He’s feisty and bitter towards his Roman master but they’ve secretly got the hots for each other. Lots of long meaningful looks and unresolved sexual tension.”
She grinned at Marcus and headed off towards where the drinks were being served. Marcus put an arm around Esca’s shoulder.
“Yeah, what she says.”
Placidus looked down his rather elegant nose at them for a moment.
“Help yourselves to drinks,” he said finally. “Anything you want. There are nibbles if you’re hungry. Take a look around the house, have a good time.”
He adjusted the crown of laurels on his head and trailed off after Cottia.
“What does she see in him?” Esca asked.
“God knows.” Marcus waved at some other people he knew. “Give it half an hour, they’ll be arguing. It’s usually quite a show.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“You don’t even look like an emperor, you pompous moron! You just look like some bloke in his grandma’s nightdress who’s been standing under a tree that’s shedding its leaves.”
“Says you, dressed as some old trout from the Dark Ages.”
Marcus could picture what was about to happen even before Cottia grabbed his beer.
“I’m Boudicca!” she snapped, squaring up to Placidus. “She ate Romans for breakfast, emperors included! She was a badass mo-fo, as they used to say in the Dark Ages.”
She raised the bottle and proceeded to tip the contents over Placidus’ head.
“Jesus, woman! What are you doing?” he wailed.
“Something I’m sure most people here have thought about doing at some point.”
A few voices from somewhere cheered in response as she handed Marcus back the empty bottle and flounced off through the open French doors into the garden.
“That’s the last time I invite you anywhere!” Placidus shouted after her.
“You say that every time I see you,” she threw back over her shoulder without breaking her stride. “You can’t live without me.”
“This is a great party,” Marcus said to Placidus, saluting him sarcastically with the empty bottle.
“Fuck off.”
“Nice.”
As soon as Placidus had gone, Esca burst out laughing.
“Are they for real?”
“Believe me,” Marcus nodded his head and went to take a drink from his beer before remembering that it had just been dumped all over Placidus’ laurels, “this is perfectly normal for them.”
“He seems a bit of a tosser.”
“Yeah. He really does throw great parties though and all this is like water off a duck’s back. He thrives on it. Come on, I could do with some fresh air.”
They wandered out into the garden and over to Cottia, who was perched on the side of an elaborate fountain, her shield and her spear propped up next to her.
“You ok?” Marcus asked her, even though he was pretty sure what the answer would be.
“Seriously?” She started cackling like a witch. “That was great! I’ve always wanted to do that to someone.”
“You are unbelievable. That was my one and only beer!”
“You were impressed, both of you. I can tell.”
“It’s like some bizarre mating ritual with you and him. I don’t get it.”
Cottia shrugged.
“He’s a jerk but he’s cute. I’ll make it up to him.”
“Speaking of mating rituals,” Esca grabbed Marcus’ hand and headed back into the house. “Let’s go find the Roman porn you promised me was here. Boudicca can look after herself for a while.”
~~~~~~~~~~
“Jesus! This stuff must be priceless!”
Marcus followed Esca into the room at the end of a long hallway and felt his jaw drop.
“I guess this is the legendary collection of Roman erotica. Also known as porn.”
There were several display cases containing pieces of artwork and pottery painted with nudes and giant phalluses and the far wall was covered with what looked like parts of old frescoes depicting naked people in various sexual positions; men and women, men and men, women and women, groups and even….
“Is that a goat?” Esca squinted at one particularly faded coupling.
“I think it’s the god Faunus. You know, Pan?”
“Just looks like a bog-standard goat to me.” He started laughing and Marcus couldn’t help but join him. “Filthy bastards!”
“Loads of digs have turned up things like these in normal, everyday Roman houses although most of them would likely be from brothels or the houses of the mega rich and powerful who liked to flaunt their debauched sex lives.”
“It’s kind of a turn-on.”
Marcus shook his head, glancing towards the door.
“We can’t do anything here.”
“You sure?” Esca moved closer.
“I’m sure.”
“Really?”
Esca bit his lip and gave Marcus his best seductive look.
It worked.
It always worked.
~~~~~~~~~~
Marcus slid a hand around the back of Esca’s neck and kissed him, his brain shorting out as all his blood drained into his rapidly growing erection.
“So.” Esca dropped slowly onto his knees and snaked a hand up under Marcus’ tunic. “You’re a Roman. I’m your slave.”
“And a good slave should serve his master,” Marcus whispered as he leaned back against the wall and stroked Esca’s hair.
This was never going to get old, he thought to himself; the wet heat of Esca’s mouth sucking him in, the solid press of his tongue, the firm but careful scrape of his teeth. Marcus let his head fall back, an endless stream of grunts and groans escaping from him as Esca went to town, sucking and licking, his moans vibrating around Marcus’ painfully hard cock.
“Oh god, Esca, that feels so good.”
Esca hummed in response, sending sparks up the length of Marcus’ cock to settle at the base of his spine. Marcus looked down at him, taking in the sight of his cock sliding in and out of Esca’s perfect mouth as other random images started to flit through his mind; snippets of the ancient erotic paintings around them, Esca’s face and his beautiful blue-grey eyes, Marcus’ own hands on Esca’s skin, the bite mark he’d made a week ago that he knew was still visible on the inside of one of Esca’s thighs.
“I’m so close, baby, so close.”
Esca’s rhythm started to falter as his hand moved faster on himself and his moans of pleasure changed into something more desperate until he made a whimpering noise and his hand stilled. He kept on sucking hard though and when Marcus felt the head of his cock hit the back of Esca’s throat once, twice, three times, he was coming, biting his lip to stop himself from crying out too loud as Esca swallowed greedily.
They stayed like that for a minute or two; Marcus braced against the wall, still stroking Esca’s hair, Esca on his knees with his forehead pressed into Marcus’ groin.
“You can keep the costume for a few more days, right?” Esca got back onto his feet, his cheeks flushed. He wiggled his eyebrows and Marcus grinned.
“Maybe. What have you got in mind?”
“Oh, just a few ideas on how to please my Roman master.”
“Your master already is pleased. Very pleased.” Marcus reached one hand down to squeeze Esca’s arse and used the other to tilt his chin up so he could kiss him, running his tongue over Esca’s lips and tasting himself. “Just promise me something.”
“What?”
“No goats.”
The End.