Love the Way You Lie
Jun. 9th, 2011 10:30 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dracoqueen22As promised, here's the oneshot set in The Requiem of Janus universe. It can be considered canon, and there's just enough detail to leave you guessing, but not enough to spoil the ending, and requires no knowledge of the novel to enjoy. It's also NSFW so those at work, keep an eye over your shoulder. *grins*
Title: Love the Way You Lie
Words: 4684
Rating: M
Universe: The Requiem of Janus, canon, before Chapter 20
Description: Alcaeus would never love him, would probably never like Janus. But he did desire the priest, and that was enough for now.
The shuffling of papers was the only noise to fill his office. Janus pushed one document aside and reached for another stack of them, feeling the headache pulsing behind his eyes. He had never been one for numbers, and now he was staring at far too many of them. Worse that they didn't seem to make sense.
The balances weren't adding up, regardless of the fact that Janus knew that they should. He was required to sign off on every quarterly accounting, and last quarter he hadn't noticed any discrepancies. But then... Janus hadn't been paying strict attention, had he? Or perhaps he was too tired, which in turn was making him misread the numbers.
Sighing, Janus set aside his quill and rubbed at his temple with his fingers, trying to ease the building fatigue and frustration. He needed an outlet of some kind. A moment when he wasn't staring at numbers that refused to properly align. He needed--
Crash.
Janus startled out of his reverie, magick rising around him in a cloaking aether. He gasped sharply. His body protested the magick use – too much, too soon – but Janus pushed it down and focused, his gaze snapping up, searching out the source of the noise. He found it rather quickly, as one of his skilled guards stared down at a broken vase guiltily. This man wasn't nearly as good at being unobtrusive as Alcaeus.
The high priest frowned.
Where was Alcaeus anyway?
“I'm sorry, your holiness,” the guard said, fidgeting as he looked between the mess and Janus, as though he couldn't decide which he should attend to first.
Janus worked his jaw, but try as he might, he could barely manage a civil response. “Where is Alcaeus?” he demanded. As captain of Janus' personal guard, hadn't Alcaeus been required to choose competent men to fill the empty slots?
The other soldier – the one who hadn't broken the vase – held himself carefully. “He's off today, sir.” This soldier was more familiar to him, a frequent member of Janus' guard – Taraim, was it?
Off? That thought had never occurred to Janus. He didn't pay much attention to Alcaeus' rare free time, though he could safely assume that the guard did have it on occasion. He was banned from returning home, but was free to wander the entirety of the temple grounds.
“Where is he now?”
The two guards exchanged glances, as though uncertain they should reveal such information. “In the training courtyard,” replied the clumsy one with an uncomfortable shift of his feet. “Shall we get him for you?”
Janus frowned. “No.” He rose to his feet, brushing out the minor wrinkles in his robes. “Clean up this mess. I expect it to be gone by the time I return.”
Taraim stepped forward. “Sir. We should--”
“I can escort myself,” Janus interrupted before the guard could bother to finish his protest.
They snapped to attention, saluting him although there was no requirement to do so. Janus ignored them as he left his office. He probably wouldn't be returning to it today, but nevertheless, he did want the mess cleaned up. He was surrounded by incompetence.
Folding his arms into his sleeves, Janus headed to the guards barracks adjoined to the western side of the temple. Lady Sybaris' temple was large, though smaller than Lord Gilgamesh's, and like the others, had barracks for its personal guard. The stone barracks were much smaller than the temple itself, but adequate for the guards' needs. The four rectangular buildings formed a square with a courtyard in the middle, often used for training exercises and the like.
Janus was greeted by many of his aides and visiting patrons to the temple. Shallow smiles and bows, empty words, none of them truly cared about Janus, just his position. He gave them cordial responses, but kept up a quick pace. He didn't stop to chat. Not that he'd have something to say.
There were only a few hours until he was due for the evening ceremony and Janus didn't want to waste any time.
Outside, the sun was shining bright and ruthless despite it's slow dip to the horizon, an unwavering heat scorching the air and making Janus sweat in his thick robes. It was one of many reasons he rarely ventured out of doors. His nose twitched at the pollen in the air and Janus frowned. He would have to make this quick.
The short connecting path between the side gate of the temple and the front entrance of the guards' barracks led to a long, narrow hall. This deposited him directly into the courtyard, though Janus hovered in the shadows created by the overhang. He searched the grassy court for Alcaeus, and quickly found him surrounded by a half-dozen other guards, exchanging blows.
Janus tensed, magick rising around him. He took a half-step forward before a second look made him calm down. Alcaeus was not being attacked; he was sparring. This was a consensual exchange of blows.
Leaning against the stone all, Janus allowed himself to watch, the opportunity to see Alcaeus unguarded a rare one indeed. Alcaeus had even gone so far as to strip out of his tunic, leaving himself clad in only a pair of trousers, his tanned body bared to the sun and glistening with the sweat of exertion. His white hair was braided in a coil down his back, swinging like a pendulum as he moved.
Alcaeus was smiling, laughing even, and Janus twisted his jaw. Alcaeus didn't smile around him; in all truth, what reason had Janus given him to smile? There was something charming about that curl to his lips, a curl that lacked the usual edge of bitterness and disdain.
Janus shouldn't care. Alcaeus was a distraction, something to ease the nights and something that, by all evidence, seemed to soothe his magick. Janus shouldn't bother with the fact Alcaeus didn't smile or laugh. That he was never this unguarded.
At the moment, Alcaeus was sparring with one of the guards, a blond whom Janus had come to recognize as one of Alcaeus' frequent companions. Sigurd was his name, if Janus recalled correctly, and he had spent a lot of time traveling between the temple and Alcaeus' home, relaying messages. Niord's investigations had also informed him that Sigurd was Alcaeus' closest friend, that they had left the border guard for the temple guard at the same time.
Sigurd dropped into a defensive stance, lifting one hand to beckon Alcaeus toward him. Alcaeus rolled his neck, almost cockily, and sprang forward, one arm lashing out. Sigurd quickly countered, and so began the game, the two of them trading blows. Here, Alcaeus emerged victorious, his footwork better grounded, his timing more effective.
One fist clipped Sigurd's cheek – harsh enough to leave a bruise later – and Sigurd shouted in reproach. Alcaeus merely grinned and stepped up his advances, not stopping until he had Sigurd pinned on the clipped grass, demanding that he yield.
Sigurd was smart enough to do so, holding his hand up in surrender – the other had been pinned by Alcaeus. Grinning his victory, Alcaeus backed away, giving his friend enough room to flip over so Alcaeus could haul the blond to his feet.
The other five guards surrounding them in a loose circle clapped their appreciation for the spectacle. Sigurd rolled his eyes, muttering something into the towel that he used to dot at his sweat-soaked face.
Alcaeus was in much the same state, chest heaving with each labored breath as he turned away from his companion and snatched a towel from one of the many benches scattered around the courtyard.
“Yes, yes I know,” Alcaeus replied, his response much clearer since he hadn't spoken into cloth. “If you had a sword, things would be different.”
Snickers emerged from the other five guards, who must have known something of this inside joke.
Janus' frown deepened, his eyes narrowing, feeling angry without reason. He'd had enough of watching, it was time to make his presence known. He didn't have the time to stand around and watch Alcaeus frivolously waste the day.
He stepped out of the shadows and into the relentless sun. Janus didn't announce himself, there was no need. The moment he emerged from the covered walkway, one of the guards noticed his presence and snapped to attention. The others quickly followed, though Sigurd was less rigid and respectful than the others.
Alcaeus had his back to Janus and he turned with the intention to follow suit, until he recognized Janus. Immediately, the cheer vanished from his expression, replaced with a cautious sort of resignation. He didn't salute, a fact which was probably noticed by his peers.
“Your holiness,” he greeted coolly, wiping sweat from his face and upper body as his fellow guards dropped out of their rigid salutes, watching the proceedings avidly. “What brings you here?”
Janus couldn't reason why he was so irritated; he just was. “Looking for you. Why else?” he demanded tersely.
Confusion flickered in those scarlet eyes as Alcaeus dropped the towel back onto the bench and picked up a tunic that had been lying next to it. “You could have sent for me.”
Well aware of this, Janus fought back a sigh. “Yes, I could have,” he retorted, and felt annoyed himself. He had no need to explain himself to Alcaeus. The other guards were watching them with undisguised curiosity and Janus was sure the rumors would be fierce by the morrow.
He whirled on his heel, striding for the walkway between the east and south building. “Come along, Alcaeus. We are to discuss the shift schedule for next quarter.” It was a weak excuse, at best, but it had the benefit of sounding official, which was what mattered to Janus.
“Yes, your holiness,” Alcaeus said, his voice holding an edge of respect, but it was his address that made Janus flinch. In the privacy of his quarters, Alcaeus knew better than to use the honorifics. But here in public, they were a necessity.
It was all a pretense, nothing more. Janus wondered why he continued to employ this farce. The rumors already touched the truth. The rest of the soldiers were well aware of the true meaning behind Alcaeus' role as captain of Janus' personal guard. Why did he bother trying to hide the truth?
For his sake? Or for Alcaeus'? Janus didn't know if he could separate the two anymore.
Frustrated with himself, Janus lapsed into silence and Alcaeus didn't provoke conversation either. He followed Janus silently, the fact that they were waking together garnering little notice. It was more unusual to see Alcaeus alone than at the high priest's side after all.
Janus led Alcaeus back to his office rather than his quarters. Why, he wasn't sure. He hadn't intended to return to the paperwork on his desk, but he had the feeling if he returned to his bedroom, he'd find a reason to stay there. He didn't need to add dereliction of duties to all of the other things riding on the back of his conscience.
The two guards formerly inside Janus' office were now standing outside of the door, to either side of it. They saluted Alcaeus upon their arrival, and Janus dismissed them with a sharp wave of his hand. The two men were quick to make themselves scarce, though Janus did not miss the half-concerned, half-questioning look that one of the guards shot Alcaeus.
It wasn't until they were in the relative privacy of Janus' office that the priest chose to speak, half over his shoulder as he approached his desk and stared down at the documents – upside down due to his current position. “It would seem that some of your men need more training, Alcaeus.”
“What makes you say that?” Alcaeus asked, and Janus heard the frown in his voice. “Did something happen? Were you attacked?”
Janus snorted. “Thank Sybaris I haven't been because I doubt that inept idiot would have been of any use. Instead, he took it upon himself to shatter a priceless vase.”
“Who?”
Janus lifted his shoulders in a dismissing shrug and pretended to be completely absorbed in the treasury documents. “The dark-haired man.”
“Audry?”
“If that's his name, then yes,” Janus replied tersely, feeling oddly on edge. Like he anticipated a knife in the back at any moment or something equally similar. Perhaps there was something in the air, something his magick could sense but he could not. “I expected you to choose better when you selected the soldiers to join my personal guard.”
Alcaeus shifted his weight. “I'm sorry.... what?” he asked, confusion clear in his tone. He had probably been expecting something else.
To be fair, Janus had as well. He wasn't sure where that particular bit of conversation had come from, but he figured it was as good a place to start as any.
“You heard me.”
Janus half-turned, regarding Alcaeus with his patented annoyed glare.
“You came to get me yourself because Audry broke a vase?”
Janus twitched. “Of course not,” he retorted, feeling an unsurprising irritation welling within him. “The vase is of little importance. My concern is for his competence.” Never mind that Janus didn't really need a personal guard during his waking hours. Never mind that this was all a facade to hide Alcaeus' true purpose at Janus' side.
“Audry is a more than capable soldier,” Alcaeus replied, displaying none of the reserve he had carried in the earlier weeks of their acquaintance. Or perhaps it was that he was more comfortable when their discussion regarded Alcaeus' occupation than his presence in Janus' bed. “The fact that you make the soldiers nervous affects their performance, not their actual skill.”
Blinking, Janus couldn't fathom what on Thessalia Alcaeus was talking about. “Nervous?”
“You haven't noticed?”
“I'd assumed that the men chosen for my personal guard would be of stronger constitution,” Janus replied with another snort. He folded his arms over his chest.
Alcaeus sighed. “Your holiness--”
“Alcaeus,” Janus bit out, disliking the switch to formality when Alcaeus certainly knew better.
A flurry of expressions flickered across Alcaeus' face, one of which matched Janus for stubbornness as he exhaled noisily. “I know you didn't come to the barracks just to discuss your personal guard, Janus,” Alcaeus replied, and this time he sounded aggravated.
Come to think of it, Janus had desired a distraction earlier. And an irritated Alcaeus was a passionate Alcaeus, who tended to forget about his reservations in treating Janus roughly. Which lent for quite the arousing experience.
Janus shivered at the mental thought. It had been some time since he'd managed to provoke Alcaeus into something rougher and, inevitably, highly pleasurable.
“Not entirely,” Janus said, and let a smirk curl his lips. “I'm assuming you won't need me to elaborate, then.”
Scarlet eyes burned at him as Alcaeus' arms dropped out of their defensive cross. “I've come to know my place by now,” Alcaeus said darkly and advanced on Janus, closing the distance between them in a few short strides.
Janus tilted his chin upward, though to be fair at this point, he was nearly Alcaeus' height now. Thanks to the magick. “Have you now?” the high priest asked, and his voice slid into a purr as Alcaeus' hands boxed him in, landing firmly on the desk and wrinkling the important paperwork.
“Yes,” Alcaeus replied, and something burned in his words, in his eyes, something that Janus didn't dare interpret because he had the feeling it would only remind him of the truth he was so painstakingly ignoring.
Alcaeus didn't belong to him, would never belong to him, and no matter how long Janus kept up this farce, it wouldn't matter in the end.
And still Janus toed the line, challenging Alcaeus with his words, his actions. Anyone would think he was trying to drive the guard away, while the truth was quite the opposite.
“And what is that place?” Janus asked as Alcaeus leaned in, close enough that he could feel the brush of Alcaeus' breath. The sharp, musky scent of sweat mixed with that of sweet, natural sunshine and floated to Janus' nose. He inhaled greedily.
Alcaeus smelled alive, which was more than Janus could sometimes say for himself. Maybe that was why he wanted the guard so damned much. Why he tended to lose himself in that urgent desire.
Alcaeus twitched. “Wherever his holiness wants me to be,” he said huskily, and before Janus could protest the calculated use of formality, Alcaeus closed the distance between them with a fierce kiss, pressing Janus hard against the unforgiving wood of his desk.
Janus groaned, trapped between Alcaeus and the piece of furniture. His hands rose of their own accord, fisting in the loose tunic that the guard had thrown on, wanting to drag him closer. Drag himself inside Alcaeus' skin if necessary, anything to close the emotional distance, one that physical intimacy couldn't cross.
Alcaeus would never love him, would probably never like Janus. But he did desire the priest, and that was enough for now. Enough for Janus and enough for this moment.
Janus deepened the kiss, added a touch more aggression, and a shiver danced down his spine when Alcaeus' hands shifted from gripping the desk to gripping Janus' hips. Words were unnecessary, replaced by the urgent tangle of lips and tongue, the feel of Alcaeus' hands roaming over his body, hindered by layers of too-heavy and too-fancy cloth.
Annoyed, Janus let go of Alcaeus' shirt to tug the knot of his robes and let them fall open and to the side. He didn't care for making them slide off his shoulders. He wanted Alcaeus to have access. He'd worry about the rest later.
The kiss abruptly ended when Alcaeus gave Janus a push – more a shove but slightly less violent – and he toppled backward, spine hitting the desktop and scattering some papers to the floor. Janus cared little about said documents as he looked up at Alcaeus, expression unreadable save for the guilty desire – always that damned guilt – glinting in scarlet eyes.
Hands slammed to the desk on other side of Janus' hips as Alcaeus leaned over him, easily nudging a knee between Janus' legs where they hung over the edge of the desk. “I'll give you rough but I've got better sense than to damage the precious high priest. So where's the oil?”
The husky edge in his voice made Janus shiver and he licked his lips. “Top drawer. Left side.” It was lotion, actually, but it would serve their purpose.
Alcaeus leaned over Janus – pressing their bodies together in the process, the feel of Alcaeus' rough tunic a wonderfully contrasting sensation to Janus' bare front. Alcaeus was tall enough to reach the drawer without having to circle the desk and he soon returned with the bottle of undyed lotion.
The sound of the cap popping open made Janus' insides tighten, his groin heat with anticipation. He watched, avidly, as Alcaeus tugged open his trousers with one hand, and slapped some of the lotion over his cock. Rigid and already seeping at the tip, Alcaeus' interest was obvious. Lust had never been the problem between them.
It was everything else that didn't work.
Alcaeus slicked himself and then reached for Janus, but the priest clamped his thighs on Alcaeus' hips and squeezed. “No,” he said sharply, and then added in a softer tone. “Not this time.”
Looking as though he might argue – warring with himself perhaps for the common decency Alcaeus had and Janus had ruthlessly abandoned long ago – Alcaeus nodded his agreement. He leaned over Janus again, eyes burning, and one hand guided his cock exactly where Janus wanted him. Janus reached up, grasped hold of the white braid hanging over the guard's right shoulder, and pulled, enough for Alcaeus to feel it and not to hurt.
“You said you'd give me rough,” Janus said, his heart thudding in his chest out of sheer anticipation, sweat already coating his body in a thin sheen. “Prove it.”
“Whatever his holiness commands,” Alcaeus growled, and his hips rocked forward, pushing his cock inside Janus in one smooth, deep thrust.
Janus sucked in a breath, a flash of pain accompanying the sharp intrusion, and he unconsciously clenched down. His fingers tightened around Alcaeus' braid as his other hand reached up, grasping the edge of the desk to brace himself. Alcaeus' thrust stung, but that pain soon melted into a haze of throbbing pleasure that made Janus moan. Made him arch his back, press his thighs against Alcaeus' sides, and demand that Alcaeus get on with it.
Sword-calloused hands landed on Janus' hip, gripping him fiercely, as Alcaeus pulled back and rocked forward again, all in one smooth, deep thrust. Janus' spine dug into the wooden desk and he couldn't be bothered to care, not as Alcaeus tugged the priest toward him and proceeded to drive into him with harsh thrusts. Not when the pleasure bloomed in Janus' insides with a fiery rush that made him grip the desk harder, knuckles turning white.
One hand remained locked on Janus' hip, grip tight enough to bruise later, but Alcaeus' other hand curled around Janus' cock, giving him a squeeze that made him shout. His back arched, spine tingling, the fire in his veins gathering in his groin as he tightened his legs around Alcaeus' waist.
Janus needed it like this, rough with an edge of pleasure, just to remind himself that he couldn't get attached. He couldn't let himself believe that there might be more. Janus didn't want more, after all. Just a distraction, just a way to pass the time, just a moment of passion and lust that chased away the darkness.
Fingers stroked his cock with sure motions, in just the way that Janus liked, adding a pulsing throb of sensation to the feel of Alcaeus pushing into him with each thrust. Janus closed his eyes and gave himself up to the pleasure, losing some of his control, letting himself enjoy it. He let himself forget, if for a moment, what waited outside his doors.
He curled his fingers around Alcaeus' braid and tugged steadily, pulling Alcaeus toward him. He seemed to sense what Janus wanted. It took a bit of maneuvering, but the guard managed, and soon their lips were locked, Janus more breathing heatedly into Alcaeus' mouth than engaging in a proper kiss.
The angle was just right like this, and Janus gasped, pleasure striking him from the inside out, making him shudder and moan. Pleasure twisted in his belly, coiling and coiling like magick threatening to unleash, and Janus knew he wouldn't last long. Not with the taste of Alcaeus on his lips and the rough feel of the desk biting into his back and the sheer wrong but rightness of it all.
Janus let go of the desk, wrapped his arm around Alcaeus' neck, and held the guard close as he bucked his hips, pushing into the tunnel of Alcaeus' hand. Alcaeus thrust into him in the same motion, hard and deep, striking perfectly inside Janus. He shuddered, the pleasure in his veins swelling until it shattered and Janus moaned into Alcaeus' mouth. He spilled over the guard's fingers, not caring that he was probably soaking his documents as well.
Alcaeus' hand released Janus cock and gripped the priest's hips again, manipulating Janus' body to his liking in search of his own release. Janus groaned, almost too sensitive, and captured Alcaeus' lips in a heated kiss. The guard thrust into him harshly, desperate in his need for completion, and they groaned in tandem as Alcaeus finally achieved it.
He groaned, a deep-throated sexy sound that made Janus shiver, and spilled inside him, fingers clenching rhythmically on the priest's hips. Alcaeus threw his head back, away from Janus, and he caught of the delicious flush of desire on his lover's face, along with the unguarded lust in those scarlet eyes.
In the aftermath, they panted, Alcaeus uncoiling his fingers from Janus' waist and choosing to plant his palms on the desk. He hunched, head tilting to the side, where he appeared to stare into nothing. Janus let his arms fall to his side, the ache in his buttocks a pleasant reminder of their encounter.
“Was that all you wished to discuss, Janus?” Alcaeus asked, but he wasn't looking at him. No, he seemed to be addressing the smoldering fireplace.
Janus sat up on his elbows, unable to stop the frown that twisted his lips. He wasn't allowed to be this disappointed, damn it. “I didn't call you here to discuss the vase.”
“Do you honestly believe I thought that?”
“Alcaeus, I never begin to guess what you might think,” Janus replied with an edge of exasperation. In all honesty, Janus didn't dare assume Alcaeus' thoughts because he had the feeling they weren't charitable toward his person.
Alcaeus straightened, backing away in one fluid motion, and giving Janus room to slide off his desk as well, some of his documents fluttering to the floor in a wrinkled mess. “Was that all?” he repeated, an edge of something else in his voice as he finally turned to look at Janus. His eyes were guarded again, his motions carrying a hint of caution.
Rising to his feet, his wrinkled and stained robes hanging from his shoulders, Janus sighed. “When are you scheduled to return?”
“Tonight. After the evening service.”
Janus closed his robes and jerkily tied the sash closed. “Don't bother,” he said, a bit snappishly, and ran a hand through his hair, the musky smell of sex thick in the air. “Spend the night however you wish.”
He could hear the confusion in Alcaeus' voice. “No restrictions?”
Janus paused mid-step and turned, seeing Alcaeus in profile. “Within reason, Alcaeus. You know good and well that you're not to leave the temple grounds.”
“Then there's hardly a choice, is there?” The bitterness in his tone couldn't be ignored. Or the sullen resignation.
Janus worked his jaw. “Would you prefer I took the opportunity away from you?”
This time, it was Alcaeus who exhaled harshly as he shifted toward Janus, moving easily between the priest and the door. “No. I think I can entertain myself without you,” he said shortly, and put one hand on the knob, only to reconsider. “Do I have your leave?”
It almost sounded like he were mocking Janus.
“Yes, Alcaeus. You may leave,” Janus said and Alcaeus didn't waste any time in departing without another word. He closed the door politely behind him.
In his absence, Janus' office felt more enclosing than ever.
He turned back toward his desk, staring blankly at the mess left behind and knowing that he was in need of a bath himself along with a change of clothes. The evening ceremony was a little over an hour away and Janus had things he needed to attend to before then.
He couldn't waste time standing around contemplating Alcaeus' motivations. He didn't have minutes to spare for self-doubt or second thoughts. He couldn't wallow in the results of his bad choices.
If begging for a lie was the best answer Janus could find, then he would accept the consequences of said actions. Nobody lived forever, some less than most, and Janus was painfully aware of that fact.
Alcaeus was a distraction for him. Nothing more, nothing less. And if a part of him chose to play traitor to that determined classification, well, Janus would ignore it. For his own good if no one else's.
* * * *
a/n: Yep! I got all my inspiration for this from the song by Rihanna and Eminem, "Love the Way You Lie" which fits Alcaeus and Janus' relationship perfectly. There's no physical abuse, but it definitely doesn't start sunshine and roses for them.
I hope you enjoyed!
Title: Love the Way You Lie
Words: 4684
Rating: M
Universe: The Requiem of Janus, canon, before Chapter 20
Description: Alcaeus would never love him, would probably never like Janus. But he did desire the priest, and that was enough for now.
The shuffling of papers was the only noise to fill his office. Janus pushed one document aside and reached for another stack of them, feeling the headache pulsing behind his eyes. He had never been one for numbers, and now he was staring at far too many of them. Worse that they didn't seem to make sense.
The balances weren't adding up, regardless of the fact that Janus knew that they should. He was required to sign off on every quarterly accounting, and last quarter he hadn't noticed any discrepancies. But then... Janus hadn't been paying strict attention, had he? Or perhaps he was too tired, which in turn was making him misread the numbers.
Sighing, Janus set aside his quill and rubbed at his temple with his fingers, trying to ease the building fatigue and frustration. He needed an outlet of some kind. A moment when he wasn't staring at numbers that refused to properly align. He needed--
Crash.
Janus startled out of his reverie, magick rising around him in a cloaking aether. He gasped sharply. His body protested the magick use – too much, too soon – but Janus pushed it down and focused, his gaze snapping up, searching out the source of the noise. He found it rather quickly, as one of his skilled guards stared down at a broken vase guiltily. This man wasn't nearly as good at being unobtrusive as Alcaeus.
The high priest frowned.
Where was Alcaeus anyway?
“I'm sorry, your holiness,” the guard said, fidgeting as he looked between the mess and Janus, as though he couldn't decide which he should attend to first.
Janus worked his jaw, but try as he might, he could barely manage a civil response. “Where is Alcaeus?” he demanded. As captain of Janus' personal guard, hadn't Alcaeus been required to choose competent men to fill the empty slots?
The other soldier – the one who hadn't broken the vase – held himself carefully. “He's off today, sir.” This soldier was more familiar to him, a frequent member of Janus' guard – Taraim, was it?
Off? That thought had never occurred to Janus. He didn't pay much attention to Alcaeus' rare free time, though he could safely assume that the guard did have it on occasion. He was banned from returning home, but was free to wander the entirety of the temple grounds.
“Where is he now?”
The two guards exchanged glances, as though uncertain they should reveal such information. “In the training courtyard,” replied the clumsy one with an uncomfortable shift of his feet. “Shall we get him for you?”
Janus frowned. “No.” He rose to his feet, brushing out the minor wrinkles in his robes. “Clean up this mess. I expect it to be gone by the time I return.”
Taraim stepped forward. “Sir. We should--”
“I can escort myself,” Janus interrupted before the guard could bother to finish his protest.
They snapped to attention, saluting him although there was no requirement to do so. Janus ignored them as he left his office. He probably wouldn't be returning to it today, but nevertheless, he did want the mess cleaned up. He was surrounded by incompetence.
Folding his arms into his sleeves, Janus headed to the guards barracks adjoined to the western side of the temple. Lady Sybaris' temple was large, though smaller than Lord Gilgamesh's, and like the others, had barracks for its personal guard. The stone barracks were much smaller than the temple itself, but adequate for the guards' needs. The four rectangular buildings formed a square with a courtyard in the middle, often used for training exercises and the like.
Janus was greeted by many of his aides and visiting patrons to the temple. Shallow smiles and bows, empty words, none of them truly cared about Janus, just his position. He gave them cordial responses, but kept up a quick pace. He didn't stop to chat. Not that he'd have something to say.
There were only a few hours until he was due for the evening ceremony and Janus didn't want to waste any time.
Outside, the sun was shining bright and ruthless despite it's slow dip to the horizon, an unwavering heat scorching the air and making Janus sweat in his thick robes. It was one of many reasons he rarely ventured out of doors. His nose twitched at the pollen in the air and Janus frowned. He would have to make this quick.
The short connecting path between the side gate of the temple and the front entrance of the guards' barracks led to a long, narrow hall. This deposited him directly into the courtyard, though Janus hovered in the shadows created by the overhang. He searched the grassy court for Alcaeus, and quickly found him surrounded by a half-dozen other guards, exchanging blows.
Janus tensed, magick rising around him. He took a half-step forward before a second look made him calm down. Alcaeus was not being attacked; he was sparring. This was a consensual exchange of blows.
Leaning against the stone all, Janus allowed himself to watch, the opportunity to see Alcaeus unguarded a rare one indeed. Alcaeus had even gone so far as to strip out of his tunic, leaving himself clad in only a pair of trousers, his tanned body bared to the sun and glistening with the sweat of exertion. His white hair was braided in a coil down his back, swinging like a pendulum as he moved.
Alcaeus was smiling, laughing even, and Janus twisted his jaw. Alcaeus didn't smile around him; in all truth, what reason had Janus given him to smile? There was something charming about that curl to his lips, a curl that lacked the usual edge of bitterness and disdain.
Janus shouldn't care. Alcaeus was a distraction, something to ease the nights and something that, by all evidence, seemed to soothe his magick. Janus shouldn't bother with the fact Alcaeus didn't smile or laugh. That he was never this unguarded.
At the moment, Alcaeus was sparring with one of the guards, a blond whom Janus had come to recognize as one of Alcaeus' frequent companions. Sigurd was his name, if Janus recalled correctly, and he had spent a lot of time traveling between the temple and Alcaeus' home, relaying messages. Niord's investigations had also informed him that Sigurd was Alcaeus' closest friend, that they had left the border guard for the temple guard at the same time.
Sigurd dropped into a defensive stance, lifting one hand to beckon Alcaeus toward him. Alcaeus rolled his neck, almost cockily, and sprang forward, one arm lashing out. Sigurd quickly countered, and so began the game, the two of them trading blows. Here, Alcaeus emerged victorious, his footwork better grounded, his timing more effective.
One fist clipped Sigurd's cheek – harsh enough to leave a bruise later – and Sigurd shouted in reproach. Alcaeus merely grinned and stepped up his advances, not stopping until he had Sigurd pinned on the clipped grass, demanding that he yield.
Sigurd was smart enough to do so, holding his hand up in surrender – the other had been pinned by Alcaeus. Grinning his victory, Alcaeus backed away, giving his friend enough room to flip over so Alcaeus could haul the blond to his feet.
The other five guards surrounding them in a loose circle clapped their appreciation for the spectacle. Sigurd rolled his eyes, muttering something into the towel that he used to dot at his sweat-soaked face.
Alcaeus was in much the same state, chest heaving with each labored breath as he turned away from his companion and snatched a towel from one of the many benches scattered around the courtyard.
“Yes, yes I know,” Alcaeus replied, his response much clearer since he hadn't spoken into cloth. “If you had a sword, things would be different.”
Snickers emerged from the other five guards, who must have known something of this inside joke.
Janus' frown deepened, his eyes narrowing, feeling angry without reason. He'd had enough of watching, it was time to make his presence known. He didn't have the time to stand around and watch Alcaeus frivolously waste the day.
He stepped out of the shadows and into the relentless sun. Janus didn't announce himself, there was no need. The moment he emerged from the covered walkway, one of the guards noticed his presence and snapped to attention. The others quickly followed, though Sigurd was less rigid and respectful than the others.
Alcaeus had his back to Janus and he turned with the intention to follow suit, until he recognized Janus. Immediately, the cheer vanished from his expression, replaced with a cautious sort of resignation. He didn't salute, a fact which was probably noticed by his peers.
“Your holiness,” he greeted coolly, wiping sweat from his face and upper body as his fellow guards dropped out of their rigid salutes, watching the proceedings avidly. “What brings you here?”
Janus couldn't reason why he was so irritated; he just was. “Looking for you. Why else?” he demanded tersely.
Confusion flickered in those scarlet eyes as Alcaeus dropped the towel back onto the bench and picked up a tunic that had been lying next to it. “You could have sent for me.”
Well aware of this, Janus fought back a sigh. “Yes, I could have,” he retorted, and felt annoyed himself. He had no need to explain himself to Alcaeus. The other guards were watching them with undisguised curiosity and Janus was sure the rumors would be fierce by the morrow.
He whirled on his heel, striding for the walkway between the east and south building. “Come along, Alcaeus. We are to discuss the shift schedule for next quarter.” It was a weak excuse, at best, but it had the benefit of sounding official, which was what mattered to Janus.
“Yes, your holiness,” Alcaeus said, his voice holding an edge of respect, but it was his address that made Janus flinch. In the privacy of his quarters, Alcaeus knew better than to use the honorifics. But here in public, they were a necessity.
It was all a pretense, nothing more. Janus wondered why he continued to employ this farce. The rumors already touched the truth. The rest of the soldiers were well aware of the true meaning behind Alcaeus' role as captain of Janus' personal guard. Why did he bother trying to hide the truth?
For his sake? Or for Alcaeus'? Janus didn't know if he could separate the two anymore.
Frustrated with himself, Janus lapsed into silence and Alcaeus didn't provoke conversation either. He followed Janus silently, the fact that they were waking together garnering little notice. It was more unusual to see Alcaeus alone than at the high priest's side after all.
Janus led Alcaeus back to his office rather than his quarters. Why, he wasn't sure. He hadn't intended to return to the paperwork on his desk, but he had the feeling if he returned to his bedroom, he'd find a reason to stay there. He didn't need to add dereliction of duties to all of the other things riding on the back of his conscience.
The two guards formerly inside Janus' office were now standing outside of the door, to either side of it. They saluted Alcaeus upon their arrival, and Janus dismissed them with a sharp wave of his hand. The two men were quick to make themselves scarce, though Janus did not miss the half-concerned, half-questioning look that one of the guards shot Alcaeus.
It wasn't until they were in the relative privacy of Janus' office that the priest chose to speak, half over his shoulder as he approached his desk and stared down at the documents – upside down due to his current position. “It would seem that some of your men need more training, Alcaeus.”
“What makes you say that?” Alcaeus asked, and Janus heard the frown in his voice. “Did something happen? Were you attacked?”
Janus snorted. “Thank Sybaris I haven't been because I doubt that inept idiot would have been of any use. Instead, he took it upon himself to shatter a priceless vase.”
“Who?”
Janus lifted his shoulders in a dismissing shrug and pretended to be completely absorbed in the treasury documents. “The dark-haired man.”
“Audry?”
“If that's his name, then yes,” Janus replied tersely, feeling oddly on edge. Like he anticipated a knife in the back at any moment or something equally similar. Perhaps there was something in the air, something his magick could sense but he could not. “I expected you to choose better when you selected the soldiers to join my personal guard.”
Alcaeus shifted his weight. “I'm sorry.... what?” he asked, confusion clear in his tone. He had probably been expecting something else.
To be fair, Janus had as well. He wasn't sure where that particular bit of conversation had come from, but he figured it was as good a place to start as any.
“You heard me.”
Janus half-turned, regarding Alcaeus with his patented annoyed glare.
“You came to get me yourself because Audry broke a vase?”
Janus twitched. “Of course not,” he retorted, feeling an unsurprising irritation welling within him. “The vase is of little importance. My concern is for his competence.” Never mind that Janus didn't really need a personal guard during his waking hours. Never mind that this was all a facade to hide Alcaeus' true purpose at Janus' side.
“Audry is a more than capable soldier,” Alcaeus replied, displaying none of the reserve he had carried in the earlier weeks of their acquaintance. Or perhaps it was that he was more comfortable when their discussion regarded Alcaeus' occupation than his presence in Janus' bed. “The fact that you make the soldiers nervous affects their performance, not their actual skill.”
Blinking, Janus couldn't fathom what on Thessalia Alcaeus was talking about. “Nervous?”
“You haven't noticed?”
“I'd assumed that the men chosen for my personal guard would be of stronger constitution,” Janus replied with another snort. He folded his arms over his chest.
Alcaeus sighed. “Your holiness--”
“Alcaeus,” Janus bit out, disliking the switch to formality when Alcaeus certainly knew better.
A flurry of expressions flickered across Alcaeus' face, one of which matched Janus for stubbornness as he exhaled noisily. “I know you didn't come to the barracks just to discuss your personal guard, Janus,” Alcaeus replied, and this time he sounded aggravated.
Come to think of it, Janus had desired a distraction earlier. And an irritated Alcaeus was a passionate Alcaeus, who tended to forget about his reservations in treating Janus roughly. Which lent for quite the arousing experience.
Janus shivered at the mental thought. It had been some time since he'd managed to provoke Alcaeus into something rougher and, inevitably, highly pleasurable.
“Not entirely,” Janus said, and let a smirk curl his lips. “I'm assuming you won't need me to elaborate, then.”
Scarlet eyes burned at him as Alcaeus' arms dropped out of their defensive cross. “I've come to know my place by now,” Alcaeus said darkly and advanced on Janus, closing the distance between them in a few short strides.
Janus tilted his chin upward, though to be fair at this point, he was nearly Alcaeus' height now. Thanks to the magick. “Have you now?” the high priest asked, and his voice slid into a purr as Alcaeus' hands boxed him in, landing firmly on the desk and wrinkling the important paperwork.
“Yes,” Alcaeus replied, and something burned in his words, in his eyes, something that Janus didn't dare interpret because he had the feeling it would only remind him of the truth he was so painstakingly ignoring.
Alcaeus didn't belong to him, would never belong to him, and no matter how long Janus kept up this farce, it wouldn't matter in the end.
And still Janus toed the line, challenging Alcaeus with his words, his actions. Anyone would think he was trying to drive the guard away, while the truth was quite the opposite.
“And what is that place?” Janus asked as Alcaeus leaned in, close enough that he could feel the brush of Alcaeus' breath. The sharp, musky scent of sweat mixed with that of sweet, natural sunshine and floated to Janus' nose. He inhaled greedily.
Alcaeus smelled alive, which was more than Janus could sometimes say for himself. Maybe that was why he wanted the guard so damned much. Why he tended to lose himself in that urgent desire.
Alcaeus twitched. “Wherever his holiness wants me to be,” he said huskily, and before Janus could protest the calculated use of formality, Alcaeus closed the distance between them with a fierce kiss, pressing Janus hard against the unforgiving wood of his desk.
Janus groaned, trapped between Alcaeus and the piece of furniture. His hands rose of their own accord, fisting in the loose tunic that the guard had thrown on, wanting to drag him closer. Drag himself inside Alcaeus' skin if necessary, anything to close the emotional distance, one that physical intimacy couldn't cross.
Alcaeus would never love him, would probably never like Janus. But he did desire the priest, and that was enough for now. Enough for Janus and enough for this moment.
Janus deepened the kiss, added a touch more aggression, and a shiver danced down his spine when Alcaeus' hands shifted from gripping the desk to gripping Janus' hips. Words were unnecessary, replaced by the urgent tangle of lips and tongue, the feel of Alcaeus' hands roaming over his body, hindered by layers of too-heavy and too-fancy cloth.
Annoyed, Janus let go of Alcaeus' shirt to tug the knot of his robes and let them fall open and to the side. He didn't care for making them slide off his shoulders. He wanted Alcaeus to have access. He'd worry about the rest later.
The kiss abruptly ended when Alcaeus gave Janus a push – more a shove but slightly less violent – and he toppled backward, spine hitting the desktop and scattering some papers to the floor. Janus cared little about said documents as he looked up at Alcaeus, expression unreadable save for the guilty desire – always that damned guilt – glinting in scarlet eyes.
Hands slammed to the desk on other side of Janus' hips as Alcaeus leaned over him, easily nudging a knee between Janus' legs where they hung over the edge of the desk. “I'll give you rough but I've got better sense than to damage the precious high priest. So where's the oil?”
The husky edge in his voice made Janus shiver and he licked his lips. “Top drawer. Left side.” It was lotion, actually, but it would serve their purpose.
Alcaeus leaned over Janus – pressing their bodies together in the process, the feel of Alcaeus' rough tunic a wonderfully contrasting sensation to Janus' bare front. Alcaeus was tall enough to reach the drawer without having to circle the desk and he soon returned with the bottle of undyed lotion.
The sound of the cap popping open made Janus' insides tighten, his groin heat with anticipation. He watched, avidly, as Alcaeus tugged open his trousers with one hand, and slapped some of the lotion over his cock. Rigid and already seeping at the tip, Alcaeus' interest was obvious. Lust had never been the problem between them.
It was everything else that didn't work.
Alcaeus slicked himself and then reached for Janus, but the priest clamped his thighs on Alcaeus' hips and squeezed. “No,” he said sharply, and then added in a softer tone. “Not this time.”
Looking as though he might argue – warring with himself perhaps for the common decency Alcaeus had and Janus had ruthlessly abandoned long ago – Alcaeus nodded his agreement. He leaned over Janus again, eyes burning, and one hand guided his cock exactly where Janus wanted him. Janus reached up, grasped hold of the white braid hanging over the guard's right shoulder, and pulled, enough for Alcaeus to feel it and not to hurt.
“You said you'd give me rough,” Janus said, his heart thudding in his chest out of sheer anticipation, sweat already coating his body in a thin sheen. “Prove it.”
“Whatever his holiness commands,” Alcaeus growled, and his hips rocked forward, pushing his cock inside Janus in one smooth, deep thrust.
Janus sucked in a breath, a flash of pain accompanying the sharp intrusion, and he unconsciously clenched down. His fingers tightened around Alcaeus' braid as his other hand reached up, grasping the edge of the desk to brace himself. Alcaeus' thrust stung, but that pain soon melted into a haze of throbbing pleasure that made Janus moan. Made him arch his back, press his thighs against Alcaeus' sides, and demand that Alcaeus get on with it.
Sword-calloused hands landed on Janus' hip, gripping him fiercely, as Alcaeus pulled back and rocked forward again, all in one smooth, deep thrust. Janus' spine dug into the wooden desk and he couldn't be bothered to care, not as Alcaeus tugged the priest toward him and proceeded to drive into him with harsh thrusts. Not when the pleasure bloomed in Janus' insides with a fiery rush that made him grip the desk harder, knuckles turning white.
One hand remained locked on Janus' hip, grip tight enough to bruise later, but Alcaeus' other hand curled around Janus' cock, giving him a squeeze that made him shout. His back arched, spine tingling, the fire in his veins gathering in his groin as he tightened his legs around Alcaeus' waist.
Janus needed it like this, rough with an edge of pleasure, just to remind himself that he couldn't get attached. He couldn't let himself believe that there might be more. Janus didn't want more, after all. Just a distraction, just a way to pass the time, just a moment of passion and lust that chased away the darkness.
Fingers stroked his cock with sure motions, in just the way that Janus liked, adding a pulsing throb of sensation to the feel of Alcaeus pushing into him with each thrust. Janus closed his eyes and gave himself up to the pleasure, losing some of his control, letting himself enjoy it. He let himself forget, if for a moment, what waited outside his doors.
He curled his fingers around Alcaeus' braid and tugged steadily, pulling Alcaeus toward him. He seemed to sense what Janus wanted. It took a bit of maneuvering, but the guard managed, and soon their lips were locked, Janus more breathing heatedly into Alcaeus' mouth than engaging in a proper kiss.
The angle was just right like this, and Janus gasped, pleasure striking him from the inside out, making him shudder and moan. Pleasure twisted in his belly, coiling and coiling like magick threatening to unleash, and Janus knew he wouldn't last long. Not with the taste of Alcaeus on his lips and the rough feel of the desk biting into his back and the sheer wrong but rightness of it all.
Janus let go of the desk, wrapped his arm around Alcaeus' neck, and held the guard close as he bucked his hips, pushing into the tunnel of Alcaeus' hand. Alcaeus thrust into him in the same motion, hard and deep, striking perfectly inside Janus. He shuddered, the pleasure in his veins swelling until it shattered and Janus moaned into Alcaeus' mouth. He spilled over the guard's fingers, not caring that he was probably soaking his documents as well.
Alcaeus' hand released Janus cock and gripped the priest's hips again, manipulating Janus' body to his liking in search of his own release. Janus groaned, almost too sensitive, and captured Alcaeus' lips in a heated kiss. The guard thrust into him harshly, desperate in his need for completion, and they groaned in tandem as Alcaeus finally achieved it.
He groaned, a deep-throated sexy sound that made Janus shiver, and spilled inside him, fingers clenching rhythmically on the priest's hips. Alcaeus threw his head back, away from Janus, and he caught of the delicious flush of desire on his lover's face, along with the unguarded lust in those scarlet eyes.
In the aftermath, they panted, Alcaeus uncoiling his fingers from Janus' waist and choosing to plant his palms on the desk. He hunched, head tilting to the side, where he appeared to stare into nothing. Janus let his arms fall to his side, the ache in his buttocks a pleasant reminder of their encounter.
“Was that all you wished to discuss, Janus?” Alcaeus asked, but he wasn't looking at him. No, he seemed to be addressing the smoldering fireplace.
Janus sat up on his elbows, unable to stop the frown that twisted his lips. He wasn't allowed to be this disappointed, damn it. “I didn't call you here to discuss the vase.”
“Do you honestly believe I thought that?”
“Alcaeus, I never begin to guess what you might think,” Janus replied with an edge of exasperation. In all honesty, Janus didn't dare assume Alcaeus' thoughts because he had the feeling they weren't charitable toward his person.
Alcaeus straightened, backing away in one fluid motion, and giving Janus room to slide off his desk as well, some of his documents fluttering to the floor in a wrinkled mess. “Was that all?” he repeated, an edge of something else in his voice as he finally turned to look at Janus. His eyes were guarded again, his motions carrying a hint of caution.
Rising to his feet, his wrinkled and stained robes hanging from his shoulders, Janus sighed. “When are you scheduled to return?”
“Tonight. After the evening service.”
Janus closed his robes and jerkily tied the sash closed. “Don't bother,” he said, a bit snappishly, and ran a hand through his hair, the musky smell of sex thick in the air. “Spend the night however you wish.”
He could hear the confusion in Alcaeus' voice. “No restrictions?”
Janus paused mid-step and turned, seeing Alcaeus in profile. “Within reason, Alcaeus. You know good and well that you're not to leave the temple grounds.”
“Then there's hardly a choice, is there?” The bitterness in his tone couldn't be ignored. Or the sullen resignation.
Janus worked his jaw. “Would you prefer I took the opportunity away from you?”
This time, it was Alcaeus who exhaled harshly as he shifted toward Janus, moving easily between the priest and the door. “No. I think I can entertain myself without you,” he said shortly, and put one hand on the knob, only to reconsider. “Do I have your leave?”
It almost sounded like he were mocking Janus.
“Yes, Alcaeus. You may leave,” Janus said and Alcaeus didn't waste any time in departing without another word. He closed the door politely behind him.
In his absence, Janus' office felt more enclosing than ever.
He turned back toward his desk, staring blankly at the mess left behind and knowing that he was in need of a bath himself along with a change of clothes. The evening ceremony was a little over an hour away and Janus had things he needed to attend to before then.
He couldn't waste time standing around contemplating Alcaeus' motivations. He didn't have minutes to spare for self-doubt or second thoughts. He couldn't wallow in the results of his bad choices.
If begging for a lie was the best answer Janus could find, then he would accept the consequences of said actions. Nobody lived forever, some less than most, and Janus was painfully aware of that fact.
Alcaeus was a distraction for him. Nothing more, nothing less. And if a part of him chose to play traitor to that determined classification, well, Janus would ignore it. For his own good if no one else's.
a/n: Yep! I got all my inspiration for this from the song by Rihanna and Eminem, "Love the Way You Lie" which fits Alcaeus and Janus' relationship perfectly. There's no physical abuse, but it definitely doesn't start sunshine and roses for them.
I hope you enjoyed!
