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FIC: Mourning the Dead (Alexander)
Title: Mourning the Dead
Author: Alex (alex_cat_45@yahoo.com)
Type: Slash
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own them.
Warnings: None
Beta: Larian Elensar
Pairing: Alexander/Cleitus
Archive: Alex’s Story Book
Author’s Note: Several asked for forceful Cleitus. Here he is.
Spoilers: For the life of Alexander, yes.
Summary: Alexander and Cleitus both grieve.
~~~
MOURNING THE DEAD
Cleitus was there almost as fast as Alexander.
Pausanias ran away to be pursued to his death by Leonnatus and Perdiccus. Cleitus paid them no mind. His entire focus was on Philip. Dying Philip. Everything was in slow motion, even the sounds of Alexander’s anguished cries.
He couldn’t even remember leaving the theater.
He kept seeing Philip’s slow fall to the ground over and over in his mind. He counted the king his best friend. He had given no thought to the future. He, who had seen many die in battle, was undone by the death of his king.
He drank steadily after the funeral. For days.
He finally sobered up enough to go see Alexander. The boy would be the king now. And the boy would need him.
He went to Alexander’s quarters. He wasn’t there. He was instead in the war room, looking at the maps.
“You all right, boy?”
Alexander looked up at him.
“How soon do you think we can go to Persia?”
“Son, we have to mourn our dead first.”
“I think we can defeat them. I see no reason we can’t.”
Alexander continued to talk about Persia but when he looked up, tears streamed down his face. Cleitus moved around the table.
“I am sorry, son, so sorry. I know you never got along with him but he loved you. You have to know that.”
He put a hand awkwardly on Alexander’s back, meaning to pat him but the young man threw himself into Cleitus’ arms. He cried and hugged him close. Finally he got to the point that the sniffles were all that was left of his crying jag. He looked up at Cleitus with red-rimmed eyes. He looked down then, ashamed of his tears.
“I’ll be with you, son. I will fight for you as I did for you father. And I will be loyal to you.”
Alexander looked up into his eyes and the next thing either of them knew, their lips touched. Instead of a warm comfort, wild passion seemed to ignite. Cleitus reached down and pulled the smaller body hard against his. His tongue forced its way into Alexander’s mouth and Alexander welcomed it by sucking hard as his own hands pulled at Cleitus’ clothing, moving it just enough to expose him. A hot hand encircled him and he growled.
Damn it all! He had not come here to have the boy! He loved a pretty face as much as Philip had but damn it, this was Philip’s son!
He tired to extricate himself. He pulled away from the embrace and tried unsuccessfully to tuck his erection back into his clothes.
Alexander unfastened the golden clasp at one shoulder then the other, never taking his eyes from Cleitus as his garment dropped to the floor. Cleitus’ gaze was heated as he jerked Alexander back into his arms.
“Be careful what you ask for boy…you might get it.”
*
Alexander said nothing; he *could* say nothing as his mouth was being consumed by Cleitus again. He wanted… forgetfulness and he thought perhaps the burly man who held him did too. He made a sound as Cleitus’ arousal butted against his stomach. He felt the warm sticky fluid as it cooled against his skin.
“Were you ever my father’s boy?” He asked as they paused to breathe.
The question seemed to take Cleitus by surprise. He stared down at Alexander, who wasn’t sure *what* it was he saw in the other man’s eyes. Cleitus spun him around and shoved him toward the map table.
“Yes… I was his boy. Your father was brutal sometimes but I was big and strong. I could take it. He made me tough and hard. I loved him for it.”
Alexander said nothing. That his father was a hard man was no surprise to him. He knew that this did not mean his father did not love. He said nothing when Cleitus smacked his legs apart and reached between them, roughly handling his cock, then more gently handling the tender sac that rested against his cock. He was surprised when a finger penetrated him quite abruptly. It hurt. It felt exquisite at the same time.
He did cry out once in pain as Cleitus penetrated. But Cleitus had slicked himself with something, perhaps saliva. Alexander had lost track of what was happening when Cleitus had began to stroke the little gland inside him.
*
“Does it hurt, little imp?” Cleitus asked, his tone sarcastic. “Well, boy, get used to it. Life is just one pain in the rear after another.” He even managed to laugh a little at his own pun before Alexander shoved back against him, taking his breath as he was completely sheathed in the boy’s hot body.
He watched Alexander brace himself with his strong arms, watched the muscles strain as he rammed himself into the smaller body over and over. By the gods, Philip’s son was a tough one!
Alexander’s strength only spurred him on. He grabbed a handful of golden hair and pulled Alexander’s head back as he used the other to hold onto the boy’s hip. Alexander almost lost his footing but he was stubborn too and managed to balance himself.
Echoing something he said in a drunken folly several years before, Cleitus heard himself say, “I love you, boy, more than I want…” His words were lost in action as he thrust in again and again.
His own endurance was at its limit when the boy whispered, “How you undo me,” then Cleitus felt the channel tighten as the boy reached his release.
His own followed and was accompanied by another strained declaration. “I love you more than I should.”
He lay still atop the new king of Macedonia, his seed still spurting inside him, and he cried. They both cried, for the dead King but mostly for themselves.
~end~
Author: Alex (alex_cat_45@yahoo.com)
Type: Slash
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: I do not own them.
Warnings: None
Beta: Larian Elensar
Pairing: Alexander/Cleitus
Archive: Alex’s Story Book
Author’s Note: Several asked for forceful Cleitus. Here he is.
Spoilers: For the life of Alexander, yes.
Summary: Alexander and Cleitus both grieve.
~~~
MOURNING THE DEAD
Cleitus was there almost as fast as Alexander.
Pausanias ran away to be pursued to his death by Leonnatus and Perdiccus. Cleitus paid them no mind. His entire focus was on Philip. Dying Philip. Everything was in slow motion, even the sounds of Alexander’s anguished cries.
He couldn’t even remember leaving the theater.
He kept seeing Philip’s slow fall to the ground over and over in his mind. He counted the king his best friend. He had given no thought to the future. He, who had seen many die in battle, was undone by the death of his king.
He drank steadily after the funeral. For days.
He finally sobered up enough to go see Alexander. The boy would be the king now. And the boy would need him.
He went to Alexander’s quarters. He wasn’t there. He was instead in the war room, looking at the maps.
“You all right, boy?”
Alexander looked up at him.
“How soon do you think we can go to Persia?”
“Son, we have to mourn our dead first.”
“I think we can defeat them. I see no reason we can’t.”
Alexander continued to talk about Persia but when he looked up, tears streamed down his face. Cleitus moved around the table.
“I am sorry, son, so sorry. I know you never got along with him but he loved you. You have to know that.”
He put a hand awkwardly on Alexander’s back, meaning to pat him but the young man threw himself into Cleitus’ arms. He cried and hugged him close. Finally he got to the point that the sniffles were all that was left of his crying jag. He looked up at Cleitus with red-rimmed eyes. He looked down then, ashamed of his tears.
“I’ll be with you, son. I will fight for you as I did for you father. And I will be loyal to you.”
Alexander looked up into his eyes and the next thing either of them knew, their lips touched. Instead of a warm comfort, wild passion seemed to ignite. Cleitus reached down and pulled the smaller body hard against his. His tongue forced its way into Alexander’s mouth and Alexander welcomed it by sucking hard as his own hands pulled at Cleitus’ clothing, moving it just enough to expose him. A hot hand encircled him and he growled.
Damn it all! He had not come here to have the boy! He loved a pretty face as much as Philip had but damn it, this was Philip’s son!
He tired to extricate himself. He pulled away from the embrace and tried unsuccessfully to tuck his erection back into his clothes.
Alexander unfastened the golden clasp at one shoulder then the other, never taking his eyes from Cleitus as his garment dropped to the floor. Cleitus’ gaze was heated as he jerked Alexander back into his arms.
“Be careful what you ask for boy…you might get it.”
*
Alexander said nothing; he *could* say nothing as his mouth was being consumed by Cleitus again. He wanted… forgetfulness and he thought perhaps the burly man who held him did too. He made a sound as Cleitus’ arousal butted against his stomach. He felt the warm sticky fluid as it cooled against his skin.
“Were you ever my father’s boy?” He asked as they paused to breathe.
The question seemed to take Cleitus by surprise. He stared down at Alexander, who wasn’t sure *what* it was he saw in the other man’s eyes. Cleitus spun him around and shoved him toward the map table.
“Yes… I was his boy. Your father was brutal sometimes but I was big and strong. I could take it. He made me tough and hard. I loved him for it.”
Alexander said nothing. That his father was a hard man was no surprise to him. He knew that this did not mean his father did not love. He said nothing when Cleitus smacked his legs apart and reached between them, roughly handling his cock, then more gently handling the tender sac that rested against his cock. He was surprised when a finger penetrated him quite abruptly. It hurt. It felt exquisite at the same time.
He did cry out once in pain as Cleitus penetrated. But Cleitus had slicked himself with something, perhaps saliva. Alexander had lost track of what was happening when Cleitus had began to stroke the little gland inside him.
*
“Does it hurt, little imp?” Cleitus asked, his tone sarcastic. “Well, boy, get used to it. Life is just one pain in the rear after another.” He even managed to laugh a little at his own pun before Alexander shoved back against him, taking his breath as he was completely sheathed in the boy’s hot body.
He watched Alexander brace himself with his strong arms, watched the muscles strain as he rammed himself into the smaller body over and over. By the gods, Philip’s son was a tough one!
Alexander’s strength only spurred him on. He grabbed a handful of golden hair and pulled Alexander’s head back as he used the other to hold onto the boy’s hip. Alexander almost lost his footing but he was stubborn too and managed to balance himself.
Echoing something he said in a drunken folly several years before, Cleitus heard himself say, “I love you, boy, more than I want…” His words were lost in action as he thrust in again and again.
His own endurance was at its limit when the boy whispered, “How you undo me,” then Cleitus felt the channel tighten as the boy reached his release.
His own followed and was accompanied by another strained declaration. “I love you more than I should.”
He lay still atop the new king of Macedonia, his seed still spurting inside him, and he cried. They both cried, for the dead King but mostly for themselves.
~end~