Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/479451.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Last_of_the_Wine_-_Mary_Renault, RENAULT_Mary_-_Works
  Relationship:
      Alexias_(Last_of_the_Wine)/Lysis_(Last_of_the_Wine)
  Character:
      Alexias_(Last_of_the_Wine), Lysis_(Last_of_the_Wine)
  Additional Tags:
      Ancient_Greece, Pederasty, Beach_Sex, Hand_Jobs
  Stats:
      Published: 2012-08-06 Words: 1934
****** By the Sea ******
by Vingtieme
Summary
     The scene where I have always presumed Alexias and Lysis consummated
     their love. It was only ever implied in the book, but I took the
     liberty of making it clear.
     I wrote this work several years ago but now it is NEW AND IMPROVED.
     Yeah, it sucked before. It was one of my first fics.
Notes
     *Alexias’s point of view is taken directly from Mary Renault’s The
     Last of the Wine. Lysis’s was written by me, with a few obvious
     sentences taken directly from the book for artistic effect.
 
ALEXIAS
Lysis and I rode off together along the coast, the blue sea beside us and the
red rocky shore all broken into little bays. At one of these, after a long
gallop, we drew rein; and looking at the clear blue water, threw our clothes
off with one accord, the water was brisk at first and warm after, and we swam
far out to sea, till we could see Poseidon’s temple at Sounion standing against
the sky. Lysis was the faster, his wrestling having strengthened his shoulders
and arms; but he waited for me, as I did in running for him. We rested on the
water, then swam shoreward, and in shallow rock-pools tried laughing to catch
fish in our hands. But as we walked out of the water afterwards, I felt a sharp
pain in the side of my foot, and found it bleeding. I must have trodden on a
broken shell or a potsherd, for the cut was deep. Lysis knelt and looked at it
while I leaned on his shoulder. “This will give you trouble,” he said, “if you
fill it with grit as you cross the beach. It might well cost you a crown. Wash
it well in the sea, and I will carry you over to a place where a horse can go.”
For the beach was stony.
I sat on a flat-topped rock, and trailed my foot in the sea. The water was
clear, and the blood unrolled in it like smoke in a blue sky. I sat watching it
till Lysis touched me on the shoulder and said, “Come”. I leaned back for him
to take hold of me, and fastened my arms round his neck. But he did not carry
me; nor did I let him go. We spoke without sound each other’s names. A gull
screamed over us, an empty sound, to tell us we two were alone upon the shore.
I said to my heart, “What mighty power hast thou been defying?” Truly love may
be likened to the Sphinx of the Egyptians, with the face of a smiling god and a
lion’s claws. When he had wounded me, all my longing was to leap into his
darkness, and be consumed. I called on my soul, but it bled away from me like
salt washed back into the ocean. My soul melted and fled; the wound in my foot,
which the water had opened, streamed out scarlet over the wet rock.
I lay between sea and sky, stricken by the Hunter; the fiery immortal hounds of
Eros, slipped from the leash, dragged at my throat and at my vitals, to bring
the quarry in. It seemed to me now that my soul was here, if it was anywhere;
nothing remained to me of what I was, save this, that I remembered I had
promised Sokrates a gift. He whom I loved knew my mind; perhaps it was his own.
We were still, understanding each other.
 
LYSIS
I left him washing his foot in the sea, and trotted off to get the horses. I
was worried about him. It wasn’t good for a runner to have a foot injury,
especially if he was thinking of going out for the Isthmian games. My worst
fear, of course, was that it would become infected, and need to be amputated. I
would do anything to avoid that.
I truly loved my Alexias. We had been happy companions for a year now. He was a
joy to be around – smart, and easy to talk to. Even when he was childish, as
was inevitable given an age difference of eight or nine years, I didn’t mind.
It was a joy to be able to mould him into the man that he would become. Alexias
was budding into a glorious warrior, and he was ever so beautiful.
Alexias was in the prime of his youth. I had, admittedly, taken notice of him
when he was a lad of just fourteen. I’d seen him racing in the palaestra with
the other youths, and couldn’t take my eyes off him. There was a reason the
folks of Athens called him Beautiful Alexias. Indeed, if Sokrates had not
convinced me to wait, I would have seriously pursued him as my eromenos then.
It was well that I waited two years. Alexias had had time to enjoy his boyhood
and, during that time, he became even more beautiful. He already had those
gorgeous bright blue eyes, and dark curls that were simply begging to be
touched. But as the next two years passed, he trained his body into something a
god would be proud of.
He was lithe and supple, and all of him was lean muscle. He was not terribly
tall or big, but that only added to the clarity of his beauty, and his boyish
charm. Indeed, as I neared the place where I had left him, I saw that he was
trailing his foot idly through the water, as a schoolboy would who had played
hooky for the day only to find that there wasn’t much more to do than sit
waiting by the stream for his friends to join him.
I approached him, and lightly touched his shoulder. “Come.” He leaned back and
wrapped his arms around my neck, ready to be carried; and just as I was about
to take hold of him, our eyes met. We spoke without sound each other’s names. A
gull screamed over us, an empty sound, to tell us we two were alone upon the
shore. It seemed that I could see the depths of his soul; and I felt that mine
was laid bare to him. I knelt next to him on the rock, took his face between my
palms, and kissed my dear Alexias.
He responded as eagerly as usual, happily drawing me closer. I embraced him and
deepened the kiss. “Mmmpff,” was his reply. We explored each other’s mouths for
a while, not at all frantically, but almost languidly. We took the time to
enjoy one another, and when we finally pulled apart, our kiss-plump lips
trailed saliva.
I started to nibble at Alexias’s throat, and he mewled in pleasure. I pushed
him down onto the rock, straddling him; and then I kissed slowly down his neck,
and pressed my lips liberally to the hollow of his throat, and his collarbone.
I treasured Alexias, and I wanted him to feel as if he was treasured. We’d
never done anything further than kissing before because I wanted him to know I
was in love from the soul, and not, as they say, with the love of the Agora. So
every touch and every caress was slow and careful – loving and not lustful.
I took his nipple into my mouth and teased it with my teeth and tongue. My dear
eromenos let out a gasp, and I kept at it for a bit before moving on to the
other. Then I kissed my way down his hardened abdominal muscles. Alexias’s
sinuous form rippled as his breath quickened. I stopped before I wandered too
low, and came up to meet Alexias’s eyes.
I stared admiringly at the youth beneath me. Alexias was brightly flushed, his
lips plump and red, and his cheeks burning. His eyes were bluer than the
Mediterranean, though dazed and heavy-lidded with lust. His breathing was
labored, and heat radiated off of his body. I gazed glazedly down at his
muscular form, and the line of hair leading to his growing erection. Eyes wide,
I heaved a great breath in awe.
The boy was so young. Just seventeen, and brimming with vitality. Alexias was
fresh as a pea blossom. He was plump and juicy as a ripe plum. Fertile as the
richest soil on Crete. His very youth was intoxicating, and he glowed with
life. I longed for him.
I kissed him again; with such raw emotion that I felt him slightly recoil. When
I pulled away slightly, he breathed my name. “Lysis,” he whispered heavily. I
looked up. Our eyes met, and an understanding passed between us. An
understanding of our love, and all of our desires. After fighting side by side
with this courageous youth, and coming to know all of his innermost thoughts,
goals, and feelings, Alexias would finally be truly mine. And I his.
I pressed my lips to his, gently, and ran the pad of my thumb over his cheek.
When I pulled away, I smiled abashedly at him, and he smiled at me, peering
shyly through his lashes. Knowing one another as well as we did, I am now
surprised at our initial timidity. At the time, however, our nerves seemed only
natural. Because I suddenly did not know what to do with myself, I tenderly
brushed back the dark curls at his temple. I could never resist threading my
fingers through his silken locks when we kissed. When we were in public
together, I occasionally caught myself staring unreservedly at his coiffure,
wishing dearly to touch, but seized with the necessity of restraint. Now,
however, we were alone, and I was bound by no societal constraints.
Alexias leaned up to kiss me and I gladly reciprocated. I ran my fingers
through his lovely hair and, having attained a hold on his head, deepened the
kiss immeasurably. Alexias gave a pleasured little groan, and opened his mouth
obligingly. I pressed my young lover down onto the rock and ravished his pretty
mouth.
Breaking away, I nuzzled and nibbled at his neck, and Alexias sighed, pleased.
Then I began. I ground our hips together in a slow smolder and felt the heat
build. Alexias groaned, and bucked into me, desperate for more friction. I
increased the pace, and very soon our chests were heaving, and our members
needy and sensitive. Alexias was clinging to my shoulders for dear life, nearly
overwhelmed by all of the new sensations. “Lysis!” he moaned. “Lysis!” I would
never tire of hearing Alexias cry my name in such a manner.
Squeezing Alexias’ beautiful cock, I flicked my thumb over the head and his
eyes fluttered open, and he gave a tiny gasp. I smiled, and repeated the
action. He gave an uninhibited moan, and thrust up into my grip. I grasped both
of our arousals in my hand, and Alexias reached between us as well. We ground
madly against each other in a wild haze of lust. My lover’s pretty little moans
sent shivers down my spine. Within moments, Alexias spent between us, and I
continued to buck into our slickened grip. I could feel the heat coiling in my
abdomen. Finally, the pressure became too much. With one final stroke, I
finished, Alexias’ name on my tongue. I collapsed by his side, panting, and I
took Alexias into my arms as we slowly drifted down from our zenith.  He whom I
loved knew my mind; perhaps it was his own. We were still, understanding each
other.
 
ALEXIAS
He let me go, and, kneeling beside the rock, covered the wound with his mouth
till the bleeding stopped. We were silent, he kneeling in the water, and I
lying like the sacrifice on the altar-stone, blue sky burning my eyes. After a
while he bent and rinsed his face and got up smiling. “The Thracians when they
swear friendship mingle their blood, or drink it, I forget. Now we are really
one.” He carried me over the shore to the horses, and tore his tunic and bound
my foot. It healed cleanly, and I was running again in a couple of weeks.
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