Claimed: Lamplight
by Eiluned (eiluned@darkpine.net)

ARCHIVE: List archives okay.  All others ask before linking or
archiving.
Disclaimer: ::raises hands:: Not mine.
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Slash. m/m sex, mild D/s relationship.
Pairing: Maximus/Cicero
Categories: Hurt/Comfort, PWP
Summary: A brief glimpse of passion after a battle.

___

When the tent flap flew open and Maximus came through like an avenging
spirit, Cicero knew what had happened. Maximus stopped and squared his
jaw, managing to look noble and strong despite the blood drenching his
armour and clothes. "Sir," Cicero said, giving his master the usual
respectful bow.

Maximus tied the tent flap shut and immediately began stripping his
armour off. Cicero stepped forward and helped unlace laces and pull
the heavy leather off of Maximus' shoulders. Maximus pulled his tunic
off and dropped it on the floor, staring at the brown-red staining his
skin. Cicero pulled the large wooden tub closer to the glowing brazier
and began filling it with hot water.

The blood washed off of Maximus' skin easily, but the stains it left
on his soul wouldn't be cleansed so easily. Cicero stayed silent,
letting his master come to terms with today's events. Finally, Maximus
turned his head and trained weary eyes on Cicero. "It was a hard
battle," he said, his voice scratchy from victory cries.

Cicero nodded, keeping quiet. "Light the lamps, Cicero," Maximus
continued, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's been too long
already. I feel as though I'm almost dead."

Cicero nodded again, unable to hide his small smile of anticipation.
He rose from his knees and quickly lit the small oil lamps. "I need to
feel alive again. Once the thrill of battle recedes, I feel as though
I've been drained of all of my life," Maximus whispered, cupping his
hands and pouring water over his head. The droplets caught the flames
and cast colorful reflections around the dim tent.

"Come here."

Cicero obeyed, coming back to kneel beside the tub. Maximus rose and
turned, letting the water roll off of his muscular body. He bent
slowly and pressed his lips to Cicero's, a warm, steady pressure that
both invited and commanded. Cicero melted under Maximus' mouth,
allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. The moisture from Maximus'
body soaked through the rough wool of Cicero's clothes, making him
feel humid and lightheaded.

"Come with me..." Maximus murmured, tugging the tunic away from
Cicero's body, "To my bed..."

_____

Skin slid slickly along skin, lamplight casting red shadows over naked
flesh. Maximus moaned deep in his throat and pushed inside of Cicero,
sheathing himself in the other man's body. The taller man gasped and
gripped the bedroll, arching back against his lover, encouraging
Maximus to move, to thrust, to claim. He reveled in the hoarse moans
of his master, in the power that he held and was held over him.

Maximus let his lips trail over the ridge of Cicero's spine, his hips
thrusting lazily. The tight, gripping heat of Cicero's body made the
blood rush through his veins, awaking him. He needed this; they both
needed this so badly. He let his hand slide around Cicero's hip and he
palmed the other man's erection, cupping it loosely. Cicero moaned
softly and thrust forward into Maximus' hand, then back onto Maximus'
cock. Maximus hummed his pleasure, bathing in the tightness and
scorching desire. It had been too long since they'd allowed themselves
any kind of pleasure. It had been too long since he'd been able to
claim, and in doing, be claimed himself.

Maximus tightened his grip and pumped Cicero's erection roughly. He
was in no mood to take things slowly. He'd almost died that day, on
the battlefield... the urge to claim rushed through him and he slammed
into Cicero's body. The taller man cried out and hot semen bathed
Maximus' fist. A few more hard thrusts and Maximus spilled his seed
into the other man's body, groaning with every ecstatic pulse of
pleasure. They both tipped forward onto the soft bedroll, and
exhausted sleep claimed them.

Fin