“Do you remember what I said? After I gave you your gift?”
Alexander had leaned back against Hephaestion, the couch shifting under their combined weight. He was speaking quietly, barely audible over the noise of the symposium. The others were presently occupied with the game of kottabos taking place on the opposite side of the room.
Hephaestion’s skin prickled; it had been half a moon’s turn since, but he had not forgotten. He couldn’t see from this position but he was sure what the look in Alexander’s eyes must be.
“Tonight. Wait an hour, then come.” Then Alexander leaned forward, calling for more wine to toast the winner.
At a sign from Alexander, the boy shrugged off his clothes. Hephaestion watched, interested; the boy had remained dressed, before. He was beautiful, of course, but Hephaestion’s eyes were drawn, despite himself, to the boy’s groin. To the absence.
“Bagoas,” Alexander ordered, pulling off his chiton and nodding to Hephaestion.
As the boy went to his knees Hephaestion wondered, not for the first time, how Alexander had arranged this. He didn’t imagine that the boy knew much Greek. Though he supposed the boy must be a quick learner; he would have to be, to have survived and prospered at two courts.
This was familiar enough, anyhow: the boy’s mouth, the slickness of it, his dancing tongue. Hephaestion thrust unhurriedly, letting the tension build. It was good. Between the wet heat and the fuzz of wine, he was in danger of spending too soon.
“Enough.” He pushed the boy away determinedly, pointing to Alexander, who was seated on the bed, watching them, hand already busy on his cock. “Him now.”
The boy complied. Hephaestion stripped himself and moved to kneel behind Alexander on the bed. Their roles were reversed since last time. He curled up close and hooked his head over Alexander’s shoulder, watching as the boy lapped at his king’s cock. He let his own cock smear a wet line on Alexander’s back.
“Don’t tease,” Alexander said, voice slightly unsteady, reaching back to pinch his arm. “I meant what I said. I want you to fuck me while I fuck him.”
Hephaestion’s cock twitched at the very mention of it. One day he would have to convince Alexander to tell him where he’d ever come up with such an idea. But that could wait. He knelt up. “Where’s the oil?”
“Over there, by the bath. Hurry.”
When he returned to the bed the boy was on it too, arranged on his hands and knees, graceful as ever. Hephaestion could not see his face; his black hair, hanging down, veiled it.
As Hephaestion settled behind him again, Alexander spat onto his palm and used it to slick himself, then pressed forward into the boy. The boy took it well, with barely a sound; Alexander must have told him to prepare himself beforehand.
Alexander gave a few abortive thrusts. “Ah. He’s tight, always so tight. You wouldn’t think he’d be so tight.”
“I bet he’s not as tight as you are,” Hephaestion said. He had two oiled fingers in Alexander now, rubbing firmly.
Alexander growled, thrusting harder, caught between the two sensations.
“Ah! Hephaestion, please!”
With a laugh Hephaestion jerked Alexander back onto his cock, then pushed him forward into the boy. And again. And again. It was almost overwhelming; his mouth found Alexander’s shoulder, biting down hard.
“Close,” Alexander whined, reaching back one hand, pulling Hephaestion forward by the hair, desperate.
Hephaestion kissed him, the angle awkward, their teeth clicking together. He wasn’t going to last long like this, either. All that he could hear, over his own shaky breathing, was Alexander’s moans and soft high pants that must be the boy’s.
Finally, he felt Alexander push backwards as he pulled out, spending onto the boy’s thighs. Hephaestion took Alexander’s weight, letting him fall back against him. They rolled sideways, settling back on the furs.
Alexander sighed contentedly, his head comfortable on Hephaestion’s shoulder, his thighs splayed wide. His cock, when Hephaestion sought it out, was still half hard.
“Happy?” he said into Alexander’s sweat-soaked hair.
Alexander laughed. “Yes, thank you. Well, almost.”
Hephaestion felt Alexander’s hand on his cock, guiding him back inside himself, and grinned. He shifted slightly, seeking purchase, and then began to fuck Alexander, with hard driving thrusts that made him grit his teeth and the bed shake while Alexander moaned into his fist, his other hand scrabbling on the embroidered bedcover.
He didn’t last long. Just like before, by the time he was able to pay attention to anything other than Alexander the boy had gone.
Just before he fell asleep, it came to him, like a bolt of holy thunder, what he had meant to ask. He poked Alexander, who was already dozing.
“Not that I’m complaining, but where did you even get the idea, anyway?”
Alexander blinked. “Oh. You know. Some stablehands, telling jokes.”
“Joking about that? In front of the king?” he teased.
It was difficult to tell, in the dim light, but Hephaestion would have sworn that Alexander was blushing. He certainly wasn’t meeting his eyes. “No… It was a while ago. In Pella.”
“Yes. I must have been sixteen or so? I suppose it stuck with me. I couldn’t stop thinking of it, and when you said that thing that night, about the boy, I thought—”
Hephaestion had never been so surprised in his life. “Sixteen? But you never mentioned it! Ever!”
Alexander scowled and shifted away. “I don’t tell you everything, you know. I do have some secrets. Anyway, I thought that you enjoyed yourself.”
“Oh, I did. That’s why I asked. I beg you, tell me more of your secrets, o king, please, do,” he said, powerless to keep the smirk out of his voice.
A pillow smacked him across the face.
“Go to sleep. We’re not discussing this.”
“Not tonight. Not if you want to retain the Companion cavalry.”
Hephaestion laughed. “Very well, o king. Get the lamp, will you?”
With a final glare Alexander blew out the lamp and darkness fell.