by Karrie Roman
“Julius,” he called to the servant who was clucking about, making sure the rooms were satisfactorily prepared. “Is there a bathhouse convenient?”
“Of course. I will take you now if you like. Then I can have your meals brought to you.”
“Gratitude, Julius. That sounds perfect.”
The rest of his men were as keen as he was to wash. They were rounded up and followed Julius through the villa.
The bathhouse they were led to was naturally far smaller than the public bathhouses Drusus was used to, but it was full of opulence, nonetheless. The mosaic tiling was bright and detailed, the scenes painted on the walls complex and colourful. Even the braziers were of an elaborate style.
Five slaves stepped forward to attend them. Caius waved them away, so Drusus helped him disrobe instead.
“Shall I call for the medicus?” Julius asked, his gaze fixed on Caius’s arm.
“Yes,” Drusus replied, eager to ensure the journey had not done further damage.
“No,” Caius replied at the same time.
Drusus looked at Julius and nodded. The servant hastily left the room.
“My arm is fine, Drusus.”
“It should be checked.”
Caius huffed and rolled his eyes but also smiled at him. Drusus took the care of Caius very seriously, and he should know that.
“Some advice, Caius,” Brutus said. “Drusus is like a mule. Do not try to move him once he is set in his mind.”
Caius rolled his eyes again, but softly kissed Drusus’s lips. “He is too used to his commands being followed…but we are not in the legions now.” He winked.
By the gods, Drusus admired this man. He knew his life with Caius would be many things, but never dull.
The seven of them fit comfortably in the bath. The water was warm, almost hot, and felt good on his aching muscles. As he had done so many times over the last few weeks, Drusus turned to ask something of his optio only to find Marcus was not there. The absence yet startled him when the realisation hit.
He asked Brutus instead, “Will you take the retirement, Brutus?”
Brutus shuffled around in the water, leaning forward to give a slave access to his back. “I will. I hear retired soldiers get a plot of land. I will find myself a good hardy wife and breed lots of little Brutuses. Handsome, fit, big, young Romans to make the emperor proud.”
“Let us hope they get their mother’s looks,” Cal quipped. Drusus smiled to see the old Calpurnius was not entirely lost to the misery of Varus’s disaster.
“What of you, Quintus?”
“I will stay in the legions.” Quintus rarely shared anything of himself. So, Drusus was surprised when he continued, “I have nothing to return home for. My family is long gone. Land means nothing to me. Besides, there is a woman…back in the village outside Vetera. I would stay with her.”
“Huh.” Brutus laughed. “That is more words than I have ever heard you speak before, Quintus. Are you well?”
“Shut up, Brutus. I am not a fool who opens his mouth when it is not needed.”
Drusus laughed. Quintus was certainly not a fool. Drusus suspected he was nervous around people, not one to put himself on display.
“Everything I say is of great importance.” Brutus smirked. He was one of those men others were drawn to because of his manner. Had he been born to a family of greater status, Brutus would easily have made his way to the senate and been one of the more popular senators.
“I am leaving,” Priscus added, not waiting to be asked. “Roma has had enough from me. I will take the land offered and happily walk away.” His gaze flicked to Thumelicus as he spoke. Drusus wondered at his own stupidity for missing what was now so plain. He had no doubt Thumelicus would follow Priscus to wherever he found his plot of land.
“I wish you good fortune…both of you,” Drusus said. If they were surprised by his words, they did not show it.
Drusus did not ask Calpurnius if he was leaving the legions. Surely, there could be no question of it. Apparently, Brutus was not as certain for he asked Cal what his plans were once they fell silent.
“I have not decided,” Calpurnius answered.
Drusus was shocked. He found no words to speak to his brother. He had been so sure Calpurnius would simply leave the legions behind.
“Cal, you have done your part. The emperor himself releases you.” Caius’s voice was soft, calm. He was trying to be persuasive without being aggressive.
Calpurnius shifted closer to Caius and put his arm around his shoulder. “I have to go back, Cai. I cannot let this destroy me.”
“It did not destroy you, Cal,” Drusus said, “You lived.”
“I would live without the nightmares, Dru. I think if I go back…”
“Cal.”
“I think I need to go back.”
If his brother felt so strongly that he must return to the legions, how could Drusus stop him? And how could he let him go alone?
Drusus sat quietly in the bath, his mind consumed with the future. What should he do? He needed to ensure his brother’s safety, but that meant leaving Caius. Should he go back? Could he?
His men chatted quietly around him, mindful of the nearby slaves. They had nothing to hide, nothing they would not say to Augustus himself, but they were all wary. Augustus had proven himself ruthless. Perhaps when they walked free from his villa they would relax.
Drusus cleaned Caius, as he had done before. The others were attended to by the slaves. But for him and Caius it was as they had spoken about—no slaves because they would prefer to tend to each other’s needs.
The events of the last few weeks were catching up with him by the time Drusus stepped from the warm waters of the bath. He did not even think he could sit through a meal. Perhaps Julius had earned his freedom by reading his master’s mind, for when they returned to their rooms they found a large meal waiting for them.
Chapter Nineteen
CAIUS’S WARM BODY felt so good lying along the curve of Drusus’s own length with only loose tunics preventing the touch of their skin. His head rested against Drusus’s chest, their legs tangled together, Drusus’s hand held a slice of pear to Caius’s lips before coming to rest on his hip. Caius’s soft, clean hair tickled at his nose.
“I cannot let him go alone,” Drusus murmured. Caius would know who Drusus was speaking of and what that would mean.
“I know.” His voice was resigned but not bitter. “I will wait for you.” Even had he wanted to, Caius would not be permitted back in the legions. He could no longer throw a javelin or effectively wield a gladius. His hand was ruined; he was useless to Roma’s army. Drusus had heard a story of a patrician nobleman put to death for chopping off the thumbs of his two sons, so they could not be forced to join the legions. He understood the father’s concern, but he’d brought nothing but shame to his sons and death to himself.
“I would stay by your side if I could, Cai.”
“I know you would. Calpurnius needs you. Just promise me you will come back—safe.”
An image of Caius waiting for him at the farm they’d dreamt of, surrounded by animals, his skin darkened from long days in the sun, his lean body glistening with sweat as he worked the fields flooded through his mind. Drusus knew there was nothing he wanted more than to make it safely home to that image.
They hadn’t fucked since the disaster; either they had too much on their minds, or Drusus had been too worried about Caius’s wounds. Lying here together, safe in Roma, their bellies full and their bodies clean, Drusus felt his cock stirring. It had been too long since he showed Caius physically much he was loved.
“Do you feel well?” he whispered in Caius’s ear.
“Better than I have since…” Caius tipped his head up and back, seeking Drusus’s lips. The kiss was awkward, given their positions, but still good.
“Dru,” Caius murmured when their lips slipped apart. “Please.”
“I do not want to hurt you.”
Caius flinched.
Drusus knew immediately he had said the wrong thing again, even if it was the truth. Drusus would tear his own arm off rather than hurt Caius. His lover had to know that.
Caius sat up, turning to face Drusus, his face a mask of hurt and anger. “I am not weak, Dru. My arm is… It will never be the same again, but I am healing. The pain is minimal, and I am adjusting to not having the use of that hand. There is nothing to stop us from fucking unless—” Caius swallowed thickly and turned away from him.
Something had upset Caius. Was it that he believed Drusus thought him weak? There was nothing further from the truth. Drusus had seen men—men who had strutted and boasted of their toughness—buckle under lesser wounds than Caius’s. There was no telling how any man would react to anything until confronted with the reality of it.
“Apologies, Caius. I did not intend to make you think I believed you weak. You have dealt with your wound better than most.”
Caius was shaking his head, so Drusus wondered if he’d misread the situation. He slipped his finger under Caius’s chin, his thumb gently resting on it as he tipped Caius’s head up. Caius’s gaze darted around as though he did not want to look at him. Drusus waited until Caius’s warm, brown-eyed gaze finally landed on him. “Tell me what is wrong.”
Caius’s lids slid shut for a brief moment before he opened them again, his gaze fierce now as he watched Drusus. “Do you no longer desire me? Are you repulsed by my wounds?” he asked, his tone defiant as though he would argue with Drusus if his answer did not please him.
“Caius Vitellius, you are the most beautiful man I have ever seen, whether you have been wounded or not. You are all I want.”
“Then why…?”
“I feared hurting you.”
“You will not hurt me, Dru. I need you; I need to feel…whole again.” A slight blush bloomed on Caius’s cheeks, telling Drusus how hard it was for Caius to speak his words.
“Remove your tunic,” Drusus demanded. If Caius needed to know how much Drusus wanted him, then he would happily oblige.
Caius stood and easily removed his tunic, his wounded arm offering no obstacle to the task. He stood before Drusus entirely naked, his chin lifted, his gaze defiant. If he showed the slightest hint of distaste for Caius’s injury, Drusus knew his lover would walk from him, Caius would not tolerate pity or disgust.
Drusus was not worried at all. He hated Caius had been injured, but it did not disgust him, and while he was sad for Caius, he did not pity him. He let his gaze rake every inch of Caius’s exposed skin. In the flickering lamplight, his skin looked almost gold, perfectly smooth. Drusus leaned forward and flicked his tongue into the crease between thigh and torso. The scent of Caius’s arousal was thick in the air as his tongue licked up the length of his hard cock.
“This is mine,” Drusus growled. “Every inch of this body is mine, Caius.”
“Yes,” Caius muttered.
Drusus glanced up into Caius’s eyes. He was watching Drusus, his expression ablaze with desire. Drusus let his fingertips lightly ghost over as much of the hard body before him as he possible. Caius squirmed and whimpered at his touch but never looked away. There was something powerful about remaining clothed while Caius stood before him completely naked, and yet Drusus was aware it was Caius who held power over him. An interesting contradiction, and one that made his cock swell.
Drusus reached for Caius’s good hand and pulled his fingers into his mouth. He sucked on Caius’s fingers, getting them wet with his spit. He mimicked the action he would do if it were Caius’s cock in his mouth and smirked at the little sounds that fell from Caius’s lips.
“Ready yourself for me,” he commanded when he released Caius’s hand. His lover did not hesitate, his hand lost to sight as he immediately reached behind himself. Drusus took Caius’s cock into his mouth, swallowing down the hard length in one motion. He felt Caius breach himself with his own fingers. A little punch of his hips, shoving his dick farther down Drusus’s throat, and a soft grunt told him everything.
Caius’s hips began to circle as he sought out more of what he needed. Drusus knew him so well—all the little sounds and movements he made when they were together. Caius’s other hand rested softly on Drusus’s head as he began to suck him ruthlessly. Caius needed Drusus—he’d said—so Drusus would give him no respite. He would fuck him with the same abandon he had always enjoyed in the past.
He pulled off Caius’s cock with an indecent pop as soon as his own need began to surge. “On your knees, head on the floor.”
Caius rushed to comply. Drusus took a moment just to admire the sight of his beautiful lover so eagerly waiting for him. Caius owned him body and soul; Drusus had no doubt of that. He would also make sure Caius never doubted him again.
Drusus grabbed the olive oil from their meal before kneeling behind Caius. He lifted his tunic, not wanting to lose the delicious feeling of remaining dressed while Caius remained utterly naked. He drizzled the oil on his cock, tossed the bottle, and then used a hand to stroke his length, smearing the oil. With his other hand, he traced the knots of bone down Caius’s spine before grabbing his hip tightly.
When he was ready, he took hold of Caius’s shoulder with his oily hand and pushed into him—hard without being too rough. “Do you feel me, Cai?” he growled in Caius’s ear.
“Mm, yes,” Caius grunted.
Drusus pulled out and slammed back in. “Feel me?”
Caius only nodded, so Drusus did it again, pulling out and thrusting back in with enough force to move them on the slippery mosaic floor.
“I want you to feel all of me inside you. Feel how hard I am for you.” Hard thrust. “And know.” Hard thrust. “That is how much I want you.”
“Dru, oh gods, please.” Caius lowered himself further, tilting his ass higher.
“Do not beg the gods, Cai. I am the one who will give you what you seek. I will give you more pleasure than you can bear.”
Drusus held on tighter now, both hands on Caius’s hips as he rutted into him. Beneath him, Caius grunted and moaned, a litany of pleas falling from his mouth. Drusus laid his body over Caius’s. Disappointed he could not feel skin, he slowed his movements and quickly lifted his tunic over his head, uncaring and unaware of where it landed.
Now, when he laid back down over Caius, their damp skin slid together. There was so much he wanted to say, but words were lost to him now as the heat built inside him. This was something bigger and more powerful than he’d experienced before, and for a brief moment, he wondered if he’d survive the orgasm barrelling through him.
He reached around and fisted Caius’s cock, the feel of the hard flesh mixing with the lewd sounds of their skin slapping together, to assault Drusus’s senses. He was overwhelmed, not knowing what to do with himself. And then his orgasm was upon him. He felt sensation in every part of his body, his cock pulsed and spurted in Caius’s tight hole, his limbs shook, and his eyes rolled. If the gods took him now, he would go to the afterlife happy.
Tremors were still running through him, his cock still pulsing when Caius clenched even tighter around him as his own orgasm tore through him. Caius’s seed dripped onto his hand. His lover’s hole squeezed him one last time, wringing the final throbs of pleasure from him.
They collapsed to the floor together, the tiles cool on their heated skin. Drusus fought for breath, even as he gently rolled them so they were on their sides with Caius’s back to his front. Neither moved nor spoke. Eventually Drusus felt his softening cock slip from Caius’s body. Still, they lay as they were, their breaths eventually evening out.
“I…I believe you,” Caius murmured.
“You believe me?”
“That you want me, that you think me beautiful. I believe it all.” Caius’s voice sounded awed at his discovery.
“Never doubt how I feel for you, Cai. You are the world to me. I would die for you.” Drusus cinched his arms tighter around Caius as they spoke.
“Promise me you will live for me. If Calpurnius returns
to Vetera, and you go with him, then promise me you will live for me and return to my arms.”
Drusus released his grip and gently rolled Caius onto his back. He lifted himself onto one arm and gazed down at his beautiful lover. “I will return to you, Cai. Jupiter himself will not drag me from you.”
Caius watched him for a time; then he seemed to find whatever he’d been searching for. “I love you, Dru,” he whispered before pressing a soft kiss—barely a touch—to Drusus’s lips.
“I still hope to talk Calpurnius out of returning to the legions. He has nothing to prove.”
“We both know that, Dru, and I suspect Cal knows it too. He suffers, though, with the night terrors. Maybe he thinks he needs to prove he is not afraid by returning.”
Drusus wanted to rail at his brother if those were his thoughts, tell him how foolish he was. Those who claimed to be unafraid of battle, pain, and death were liars or fools. Fear kept you smart. Calpurnius had to know that. He would make sure Cal knew it. He would do whatever possible to encourage Calpurnius to take Augustus’s offer of early retirement. He wanted Cal safe; he wanted Caius safe, and—even if it was a little selfish—he wanted himself safe and free to be with Cai.
“I do not wish to linger in Roma. Maybe if we can get Calpurnius to his land…”
“Dru,” Caius whispered, “we will do what we can. I would rather see you both safe. I long for our farm.” Caius smiled so wide that Drusus knew the images they’d conjured of a farm life together must be passing behind his eyes.
“As do I.” Drusus allowed the smallest flicker of those treasured dream images before he continued. “I will speak with Julius in the morning. If Augustus has no further need of us, then perhaps we can leave tomorrow. Unless you wish to see more of Roma?”
“No. I am a farm boy. The city holds no interest for me.” Caius yawned widely. He looked better than he had for some time, but Drusus could still see exhaustion etched into his features and the dark marks beneath his eyes. He gently slid from behind Caius and then gingerly stood. His legs still trembled in the aftermath of his orgasm. He wet a piece of ragged cloth in the bowl that had been left for them and quickly wiped himself down and then turned to do the same for Caius.