Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/680295.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Spartacus:_War_of_the_Damned
  Relationship:
      Julius_Caesar/Tiberius/Sabinus
  Character:
      Julius_Caesar, Tiberius, Sabinus
  Additional Tags:
      Threesome_-_M/M/M, Intercrural_Sex
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-02-11 Words: 1128
****** Caesar Is Our King Today ******
by waferkya
Summary
     He does not realize I am here until the moment I step out of the
     shadow that clouded my presence, and he wonders why his fucking
     father will not give him command over an army; the boy’s breath
     catches in his throat and it is reason for a smile.
Notes
See the end of the work for notes
He does not realize I am here until the moment I step out of the shadow that
clouded my presence, and he wonders why his fucking father will not give him
command over an army; the boy’s breath catches in his throat and it is reason
for a smile.
“Caesar,” he says through grinding teeth, and his attempt at authority would be
easily bested by that of a stray kitten, blinded and teethless.
I keep my smile and step closer to him. He is so boring he recoils in fear, but
he is not thinking: the table is sitting behind him, and he cannot escape any
further away. Diana will surely piss on my bones for this farce of a hunt.
“Be not afraid,” I say to the smooth crook of his neck. Not a trace of beard or
shaving, this boy would still reek of milk if it wasn’t for all the expensive
perfumes those of his kind are constantly bathing in.
He has no knowledge of war and the burning bite of battle and blood and winter,
and yet he would bear the weight of imperium and see us all to a useless,
boring fucking death. So, I do think I am doing us all a favor as I make him
turn around and bend over the desk; I am merely offering help, prying his eyes
open with the gentle act of lifting the skirt he pretends is a toga, and if I’m
not, well, may the thunder strike and turn me to charcoal.
Still alive, I push my hand inbetween his thighs and I’m half surprised to find
balls to cup.
“Caesar,” he whines, but a little tug is enough to shut his mouth. Good boy.
He is absolutely indecent, with his smooth white skin and the little hiccups
dropping from his mouth like honey; he looks exquisite too, one must give him
credit for it. Has he ever been touched? Am I the first to sink teeth in the
ripe curve of his ass? I ask him as much and all he does is grunt and moan and
I think he means yes.
“Let us have the fucking gods as witnesses, then,” I tell him, the balcony only
a few steps away. Tiberius makes no attempt to fight or escape, not with his
wet cock in my grasp and a hand over his mouth. He does stand very still when
my touch moves to the back of his thighs, and as I bite his shoulder he
shudders.
“Don’t,” he whispers into my hand, and I have met handmaidens who were so much
braver than this rich little shit.
And yet, he pushes his hips back into mine and I find myself buried deep
inbetween his dry thighs, my cock sliding under his and the warmth from his
body infectious.
I hear steps from the inside of the house and then a loud cry of “Tiberius!”,
and the gods must be testing my patience.
“I pray the gods I shall find your friend willing to join us,” I tell the
kitten, and he whines as I move back and oh, I’d give an arm and a leg, from
someone else’s body of course, to have time to properly address that, but his
friend, the one who is slightly less green as grass, is upon us already. He
does not look too pleased.
“What are you doing?” he demands to know, and I push my thumb to the root of
Tiberius’ cock, given that I can.
“Taking him,” I answer; this makes him even less pleased, and he almost looks
like a man.
“Step back.”
Crassus’ boy moans, “Sabinus, no—” which makes the other boy’s ear turn red.
“Step back.”
I do not. I put my hands on, what’s his name again, Tiberius’ thighs, and push
them open a little.
“I shall step back,” I say, staring at the other boy in the eye and trying not
to grin too hard at his ridiculous order. “If you step in.”
He tries not to let it surface, but I have shocked him; I stroke Tiberius’
cock, just a little, just to see how far will this other boy go — and he looks
at my hand and his friend’s throbbing flesh with an hunger I might even find
pleasing.
So, he has been waiting for this.
“Go on,” I tell him, and Tiberius’ little breathy moan comes at the most
perfect time. “Take him. You do want him, do you not?”
The boy takes a step forward before he catches himself.
“Swear that you will let go of him,” he says, the honorable little shit who
cannot even realize how big a favour I am making him.
“If you take him,” I say, and he doesn’t hear the rest: I take you, in
exchange.
And oh, does he take him. He’s four steps away and he’s stroking himself
already, eager to grow hard and wet. He slips inbetween Tiberius and me, graces
me with a glare and then tenderly stroking his friend’s exposed thighs. I feel
sick.
Tiberius’ mouth is pink and swollen and it bears such a resemblance to the
wanton lips of whores that, knowing his frigid mother, I could never guess he
came from that womb — but then again, his father is who he is, and Tiberius is
pale and writhing and begging, a gorgeous sum of everything the house of
Crassus tries so hard not to be.
Their heavy breaths rise in rhythm and noise, Tiberius’ friend leaning into him
to kiss the back of his neck, disgustingly sweet, and Tiberius whispering his
name and mumbling nonsense, probably poetry of some sort. I grab the other boy
by the hips and drag him back, away from the tight space inbetween Tiberius’
thighs, which they have already made wet, and sticky.
“How long have you thought of this?” I ask, and the boy shudders and denies me
an honest answer. There’s a grin on my lips as I put the tip of his cock
against Tiberius’ thighs and mine against his; I shove into him and he into
Tiberius and Tiberius slips a little further onto the railing.
Tiberius’ friend clenches like the perfect cunt around me, I can only hope
Tiberius feels this wonderful, and he makes no sound when my thumbs find the
underside of his ass, slipping upwards, upwards, upwards until I am at his
entrance — he breathes out hard and comes, biting at Tiberius’ shoulder, and
soon enough Tiberius, pathetic little boy unfit for everything except maybe
this, is spent, too.
“You are not going anywhere,” I tell them both; Tiberius sighs, defeated and
tired and warm. Tiberius’ friend growls at me, but he pushes his thighs a
little closer together.
End Notes
     OH GOD WHAT. Okay so, Romans had just as many issues with sex as a
     sheltered girl with extremely religious parents might have today;
     anal intercourse was very much frowned upon, but they were also into
     the "friends with benefits" trope, sort of, as long as everything
     stays manly. So how do you keep your virility safe while still
     getting to fool around with your best manly man of a friend?
     Intercrural is what Romans would suggets, clearly; it's brilliant and
     simple and deliciously messy and okay, I'll shut up right now, I just
     wanted to point out that the thing Caesar does, with his thumbs and
     Sabinus, that's--- that's a pretty big deal? And also I love Sparty's
     Caesar, all hot blonde hawaiian dude who has the hots for everyone
     and everything, and I hope I made him justice. Halp.
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