Spikeface's Request: Cupid/Caesar
Aug. 23rd, 2008 02:40 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jaye_voyThis did not turn out like I expected...
Request from: Spikeface
Prompt: Cupid/Caesar
Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me.
Feedback: Always welcome, positive or negative.
Archiving: Not without permission.
***
Caesar woke as he always did, fully alert between one breath and the next. In that instant he knew Fortuna’s wheel had turned against him. He schooled his face to indifference, hoping the swift and heavy beat of the pulse in his neck did not betray his alarm.
Someone had stirred the braziers and lit the lamps, bestowing a golden glow upon the spacious tent. Likely that same someone had also stripped him, from the tickle of air, fur and woolen blanket against every measure of his skin. He tilted his head far back as he tested the leather straps binding his wrists above his head. The ends were looped around a post stuck fast in the ground beyond his pallet.
“Don’t cry out---I doubt you want your men to see you so...indisposed.” The voice was smooth, pleasant, held no hint of malice that Caesar could detect. He looked down the length of bed and body and...gaped.
He’d never believed in the gods---despite the rumors he’d oft circulated of the favors they bestowed upon him. Deities were a useful notion---reverence, after all, could hold men to a course far easier than the lash, as all the world deemed piety a virtue.
But the figure before him could not be of anything but divine origin. Wings, white and full, rose above the breadth of muscled shoulders. The sheer perfection of face and form put all songs and tales to shame. For a moment Caesar held still in awe at the vision of Cupid come to life. Strong, golden as the memories of summer days, the glint of possibilities in hazel-green eyes matched by a smile to tempt the most sober of men, maidens and matrons to sin.
Then the moment passed and Caesar was himself again. “Am I so fearsome a mortal that the son of Venus must truss me like an unruly slave before seeking an audience?”
The smile on the heart-shaped lips curved wickedness. “No...I thought the look would suit you.” Cupid strode forward, clothes fading like mist as he sprawled his ease beside Caesar, one elbow crooked and palm supporting his head as his other hand settled over the blanket hiding Caesar’s bare chest.
By force of will he did not squirm under the weight of that hand, though he could not prevent the way his body tightened in appreciation of the touch, in anticipation of the removal of the barrier between them. “What is your purpose here?”
“To satisfy my...curiosity.” Cupid leaned closer, his breath the lightest caress against Caesar’s ear. “Some say you are driven by cold ambition, but your passion has called me from Olympus itself.”
His hand slid to Caesar’s far side as Cupid shifted to brace himself, long legs straddling Caesar’s hips, wings unfolding and sliding forward to enclose them in a translucent cave. Caesar could feel his cock filling, pressing against the blanket in a vain attempt to greet the proud organ at the apex of Cupid’s thighs.
Whatever reply he might have made died unspoken at the sudden gravity of Cupid’s mien. “You had a choice, Gaius Julius Caesar, not long ago: the love Xena bore you or your passion for the power you crave.” Cupid’s hand rose once more, strangely enough to stroke the bangs from Caesar’s brow. He found he could only nod, as though the weight of Cupid’s stare held him as surely as the leather about his wrists.
“Wisely or not, you chose power...” Cupid mused, “for your passion to seize and hold control of Rome would not allow you to share, even with the love of your life.”
That simple declaration struck deep, as Cupid’s bolts were wont to do, and lodged in that place where regret dwelled. And yet the wound had been there long before Cupid’s barb discovered it. Caesar had ignored it all this time, and could---would---continue to do so. “Have you come to chastise me for the sin of forsaking love?”
“No. You have punished yourself by banishing it from your life.” Cupid sighed as he stretched full length upon Caesar, cupping Caesar’s head in warm hands. “You have chosen passion, and I would have you know its full measure.”
The blanket disappeared, and Caesar gasped at the unhindered touch of skin upon skin, the slide of Cupid’s legs parting Caesar’s thighs and bringing them into full and glorious contact. Still, it was not in his nature to yield so easily. “Whether I will it or no?”
Caesar gasped at the feel of Cupid’s teeth against that traitorous pulse, the bite a pleasured pain that promised much. Cupid did not deign to leave off his exploration of Caesar’s throat, simply murmuring, “You will find that like the Fates themselves, the gods pay little heed to the will of men.”
***
Years hence, as Caesar heaved his last breaths upon the Senate floor, he recalled that wild night he was slave to passion’s demands. But what came to him most strongly was the memory of the morning after: Cupid’s final kiss, the gentlest brush of love upon Caesar’s lips as his world faded not to black, but glowing white...
THE END
Request from: Spikeface
Prompt: Cupid/Caesar
Disclaimer: Characters do not belong to me.
Feedback: Always welcome, positive or negative.
Archiving: Not without permission.
***
Caesar woke as he always did, fully alert between one breath and the next. In that instant he knew Fortuna’s wheel had turned against him. He schooled his face to indifference, hoping the swift and heavy beat of the pulse in his neck did not betray his alarm.
Someone had stirred the braziers and lit the lamps, bestowing a golden glow upon the spacious tent. Likely that same someone had also stripped him, from the tickle of air, fur and woolen blanket against every measure of his skin. He tilted his head far back as he tested the leather straps binding his wrists above his head. The ends were looped around a post stuck fast in the ground beyond his pallet.
“Don’t cry out---I doubt you want your men to see you so...indisposed.” The voice was smooth, pleasant, held no hint of malice that Caesar could detect. He looked down the length of bed and body and...gaped.
He’d never believed in the gods---despite the rumors he’d oft circulated of the favors they bestowed upon him. Deities were a useful notion---reverence, after all, could hold men to a course far easier than the lash, as all the world deemed piety a virtue.
But the figure before him could not be of anything but divine origin. Wings, white and full, rose above the breadth of muscled shoulders. The sheer perfection of face and form put all songs and tales to shame. For a moment Caesar held still in awe at the vision of Cupid come to life. Strong, golden as the memories of summer days, the glint of possibilities in hazel-green eyes matched by a smile to tempt the most sober of men, maidens and matrons to sin.
Then the moment passed and Caesar was himself again. “Am I so fearsome a mortal that the son of Venus must truss me like an unruly slave before seeking an audience?”
The smile on the heart-shaped lips curved wickedness. “No...I thought the look would suit you.” Cupid strode forward, clothes fading like mist as he sprawled his ease beside Caesar, one elbow crooked and palm supporting his head as his other hand settled over the blanket hiding Caesar’s bare chest.
By force of will he did not squirm under the weight of that hand, though he could not prevent the way his body tightened in appreciation of the touch, in anticipation of the removal of the barrier between them. “What is your purpose here?”
“To satisfy my...curiosity.” Cupid leaned closer, his breath the lightest caress against Caesar’s ear. “Some say you are driven by cold ambition, but your passion has called me from Olympus itself.”
His hand slid to Caesar’s far side as Cupid shifted to brace himself, long legs straddling Caesar’s hips, wings unfolding and sliding forward to enclose them in a translucent cave. Caesar could feel his cock filling, pressing against the blanket in a vain attempt to greet the proud organ at the apex of Cupid’s thighs.
Whatever reply he might have made died unspoken at the sudden gravity of Cupid’s mien. “You had a choice, Gaius Julius Caesar, not long ago: the love Xena bore you or your passion for the power you crave.” Cupid’s hand rose once more, strangely enough to stroke the bangs from Caesar’s brow. He found he could only nod, as though the weight of Cupid’s stare held him as surely as the leather about his wrists.
“Wisely or not, you chose power...” Cupid mused, “for your passion to seize and hold control of Rome would not allow you to share, even with the love of your life.”
That simple declaration struck deep, as Cupid’s bolts were wont to do, and lodged in that place where regret dwelled. And yet the wound had been there long before Cupid’s barb discovered it. Caesar had ignored it all this time, and could---would---continue to do so. “Have you come to chastise me for the sin of forsaking love?”
“No. You have punished yourself by banishing it from your life.” Cupid sighed as he stretched full length upon Caesar, cupping Caesar’s head in warm hands. “You have chosen passion, and I would have you know its full measure.”
The blanket disappeared, and Caesar gasped at the unhindered touch of skin upon skin, the slide of Cupid’s legs parting Caesar’s thighs and bringing them into full and glorious contact. Still, it was not in his nature to yield so easily. “Whether I will it or no?”
Caesar gasped at the feel of Cupid’s teeth against that traitorous pulse, the bite a pleasured pain that promised much. Cupid did not deign to leave off his exploration of Caesar’s throat, simply murmuring, “You will find that like the Fates themselves, the gods pay little heed to the will of men.”
***
Years hence, as Caesar heaved his last breaths upon the Senate floor, he recalled that wild night he was slave to passion’s demands. But what came to him most strongly was the memory of the morning after: Cupid’s final kiss, the gentlest brush of love upon Caesar’s lips as his world faded not to black, but glowing white...
THE END
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-23 03:43 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-23 03:58 am (UTC)I watched "For Him the Bell Tolls" recently and was surprised at how much of a romantic Cupid was, compared to Aphrodite. He really does believe in love.
It's not so much that I'm not a fan of Caesar (I enjoy Karl in all his roles), but that I really don't have a sense of the character. It was interesing to try, though.
Glad you enjoyed it.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-23 04:37 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-23 04:40 am (UTC)(and yes, so poignant how you ended *sighs blissfully*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-23 12:54 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-08-23 12:56 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2010-03-23 12:15 am (UTC)Oh my WOW! Now, I do have a confession to mkae, the last time I saw Xena was well over 10 years ago, I honestly don't remember th characters. But this? This has made me seriously tempted to find it again in order to see if the characters live up to what you've written :)
The sheer... I say chemistry, there is definetly that, but the tension, the angsty bit, the hottness (cos really, two Karls? Hell yes!), but simply how it is written is absolutely amazing :)
(no subject)
Date: 2010-04-22 08:09 pm (UTC)