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Swallow Me Whole (Spit Me Out In Pieces)

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Nasir is standing upon wooden crate, watching newly freed rebels on training field when he first notices the boy. He's tall with blond curls and huge blue eyes, barely younger than Nasir himself. A former house slave, he is thin and unblemished, but practice with sword has started to form lean muscles along his chest. Nasir can not deny the boy's beauty, nearly a man if blush of hair upon chin gives any clue.

Yet all morning, as he spars with another, eyes are constantly drawn to villa, causing him to miss mark and blunder in attack. Spartacus, Crixus, and Agron sit around short table just inside pillars, deep in discussion of rebellion's next move. They have been at it since sunrise, only stopping to grab more wine or when voices are raised.   

Sight of Rebel King seems to distract boy continuously, as he is whacked once again with wooden sword. Spartacus is sight to behold, never wavering leader of massive army, surrounded by sure generals. Had Nasir not been privy to the mercy of Spartacus himself, he would perhaps tremble in his sight as well. With distraction though, Aodhan will never learn to wield sword for purpose. Whether it is in awe or fear, Nasir does not know, but finds patience running thin.

"Aodhan! You lose feet to fucking distraction! Turn head from foolish day dreaming."

The man turns, panting and raising hand to block sun in eyes, sweat pooling along his forehead.

"You push us all morning! I grow tired. Can we not rest?"

Nasir finds self unswayed by pretty face and broad shoulders.

"Do you think Romans would submit to such request? Yield because you go weary of fighting? We train to keep heart beating in chest, not for sport."

Aodhan begins to pout, standing up straight and casting quick eyes towards Spartacus again. He licks lips slowly, biting on the corner, before turning gaze back to Nasir. His friend nudges him, looking sheepish at other's expense. They do not respect him, nor see him as warrior. Nasir is not too bothered by this, knowing full well that he could best all of them if so inclined.

"What cause do we have to fear when such gods lead us? Surely Romans tremble at sight of Spartacus, Crixus, and Agron."

"You are fool if you do not fear fucking force of the Romans. All in rebellion bare mark of how cruel they can be. Do not expect to be protected always."

A few of the younger recruits look amongst themselves, nudging and smiling. They are young, Nasir knows, and happy to be away from dominus' thumb, yet they are also weak. They have not been to first battle yet, nor have suffered wound that pushed themselves to brink of death. Agron still touches Nasir's scar with lightest of brushes, fearful of reopening of long since healed flesh.

Nasir sees such contrast between them and himself now, though mere months probably separate their ages. Sudden weight of experience aging him settles upon Nasir's shoulders, making him feel as if old man among blushing youths. It twists something dark and ugly in his gut, making his skin crawl.

"Take to mid-day meal and find sense before you return to dirt."

He snaps, rubbing a hand through his hair and closing eyes against sun.  Summer heat is slowly turning to cooler winds, Autumn approaching.

Nasir has long since gotten over obsession with staying young and preserved doll for dominus. No one in rebellion is without battle scars. Yet, he can not help but feel bitter towards beauty and eagerness of youth. It was not long ago that he stood same, beautiful flower in dominus' garden. Sudden fear of standing insignificant against new crop of able bodies seizes Nasir, and he rubs harder at his eyes.

Suddenly, warm fingers brush the inside of Nasir's thigh, trailing up seam of pants, a soft mouth finding his bare hip. The Syrian startles at contact, nearly falling from perch upon block if not for strong hands that grip legs to steady him.

"Apologies!" Agron laughs, staring up at him with smirk.

"You move around like snake!" Nasir tries to snap, finding Agron's gleeful look distracting, as well as fingers still tracing along inside of thigh, "I did not see you remove self from Spartacus' side."

"You appear as if immortal upon shrine in temple," Agron shrugs, licking strip along Nasir's bare side, ignoring whistle from a passing Lugo, "I came to pay tribute."

"You have lost mind. I appear weary old man surrounded by insubordinate youths."

"If losing mind forces you to stay beside me, then I willingly and happily surrender it"

Nuzzling face against Nasir's stomach, Agron leans against him. Syrian fingers trail through the gladiator's hair, sighing at simple touch, and enjoying being higher than Agron for once. Agron is private and protective of his relationship with Nasir, and usually does not display it so openly. Yet, private moments in time of war are often hard to come by, and Nasir would cherish sweetness in times of frustration.

"Appear as old man? You are barely graced with hint of beard. What do you speak of?" Agron seems to catch up to the words Nasir muttered.

"They do not see me as warrior," Nasir grumbles, motioning over towards where Aodhan and his friends are eating, "and that one only has eyes for Spartacus, not sense of sword. I have proven myself in battle and in this courtyard, but that means nothing."

"We all were once drawn to our fearless leader. You are to be respected most of all. Vicious little dog turned gladiator and trusted friend of Rebel King," Agron kisses Nasir's hip again, sucking on the skin and producing a giggle from the Syrian's lips, "Forget foolish boys. They will learn or they will die. I would have thoughts be on happier matters."

Nasir does not give voice to actual concerns. He knows beauty is fickle, a fleeting thing that he would not always have. He is to higher purpose now, rebellion and freedom and finding self within Agron's strong arms. Pride he once had in being desirable and having position within his dominus' villa has been replaced with skill with sword.

"You still seem distracted."

“Apologies. Thoughts consume me.”

“Do I not present proper distraction?”

"Agron! What are you doing?"

Gladiator's arms wrap tightly around Nasir's waist, lifting him from box to ground in swift motion. Nasir stumbles a little with feet on earth, but Agron's sure hands steady him by the hips.

His mouth descends on Nasir's before more protest can be made, pulling him tightly against Agron's chest. Nasir hates yet loves the easy way Agron manhandles him as if he is child, flipping him over in bed, picking him up against wall. Agron's strength is unmatched. Clingy tightly to the German's shoulders, Nasir must raise up on toes to kiss the other, licking into Agron's mouth.

"We should not have left our bed this morning," Agron pants against lips, crowding into Nasir's space, hands stroking his sides.

"Luxury of hiding from duty is not for us," Nasir tries to pull away, aware of eyes upon them, but is drawn back in by Agron's mouth.

"Return with me to it," Agron licks along Nasir's pulse, "I would have you now."

Nasir lets out a breathy moan, eyes darting behind Agron to see Mira and Duro grinning at them. The younger German even raises hand in greeting. Nasir feels blush upon face in reply, hiding in Agron's neck.

"And what of new recruits? Who will train them if I give into request?" Nasir's heart is pounding as Agron's teeth grip the thin flesh of his neck.

"Naevia or Duro are both able."

"Able yes, but not their responsibility to rebellion. Spartacus will wonder where we are and Crixus-"

Nasir is cut off by fingers brushing along lower back, dipping into waistband of pants to tap teasingly against ass. He knows there is a kiss bruise there, where Agron's fingers are pressing, formed last night by the gladiator's mouth. His fingernails dig into Agron's back in warning, cock beginning to fill between legs.

"Gaul can keep fucking mouth shut."

Nasir finds his eyes fluttering closed as Agron's hand trails around to his stomach, slipping lower to find the Syrian half hard. Agron's breathy laugh in his ear raises goose bumps; the summer sun causing sweat to pool on his lower back. His own hands are sliding over Agron's broad chest and shoulders, tracing scars he could find even in the dark.

"A-Agron! We are in plain view," Nasir hisses, arching his back with the German's steady stroking of his cock, "We can not."

"Thoughts of your smooth thighs and my place between them have plagued me all morning. I am no use to anyone if I can not get your taste out of my mouth. Regardless of wine or food, you linger across my tongue as sweet as you were last night."

"You must not say such things to me." Nasir can not escape the smothering heat of Agron's body, surrounding him with every movement.

"Why? I only speak truth. I would have you right here if you would but allow it."

Agron bumps his hips against Nasir's, hissing as long, hard line of his cock rubs against the other's in blissful friction. Nasir must bite down hard on bottom lip to silence the deep moan that bubbles to come out.

The gladiator has never shown such need or desire in front of numerous eyes before. Nasir is thrown off guard, eyes darting around and noticing the young recruits have taken notice, Aodhan's mouth twisted in an ugly scowl. Nasir can not linger on such look long as Agron grips his jaw and kisses him again thoroughly.

"Come to bed."

“I can not. You know rebellion is carried on backs of everyone doing their part.”

“I only am concerned with you upon back.”

Nasir feels himself blushing harder. Agron's stubble slides along his jaw, itching and perfect.

“We can tonight, when duties are fulfilled.”

“I can not wait that long,” Agron's voice is nearly a whine as tongue traces shell of Nasir's ear. He presses tightly to Nasir's hip, rubbing in short thrusts to release tension. Through the fabric, Nasir can tell Agron's cock is leaking precome, flushed red and hot. “I have thought of nothing but you. Your cries and moans and whimpers are constantly in my head, repeating as if song. I wish only to take you to heights unknown again and again until we collapse in state of bliss so strong that Venus herself shudders from it.”

“Agron, my heart, I-” Nasir is cut off with Agron's next statement.

“Please. I beg you. I am your slave to command as you will. Do not turn me from most desired thing.”

Electric green eyes stare into Nasir's slowly widening ones. He has never heard Agron beg before, and sound shoots hot burning desire through spine. He knows he has won with whimper from Nasir's lips.

Agron steps back, eyes trained on Nasir's bruised mouth, grasping his hand and beginning to move towards villa's walls. Nasir wants to deny him, knowing giving up assignment is blunder that will cause Spartacus disappointment and probably anger. Yet dark look in Agron's eyes can not be ignored. Letting himself be guided, he moves with his lover, vowing he will not sleep after passion is dealt with but return to sands and training.

"I must return when finished," Nasir slides hand down to entwine fingers, "I have duty."

"I don't intend to leave you able bodied."

Agron's grin is wolf like and needy, green eyes burning with an intense urge to mark and taste. He never grows tired of bringing Nasir to highest pleasure.

Fate is not with them today though, as Agron's heated gaze on Nasir causes him to stumble straight into Duro.

"Jupiter's cock!" Agron is caught by sure hands, Nasir crashing into him.

"Careful, brother," Duro's voice carries loud and clear across courtyard, "Distraction of hardened cock has made you clumsy."

"Distraction of brother in path will cause harm if you do not lower voice and move," Agron growls under Duro's teasing grin. The younger has seen opportunity to jest, and will not be swayed.

"I am to blame for your unsure steps? Perhaps if you took eyes away from your little Syrian prince, you would not make such error." Duro is far too smug for Agron's present mind set. "I only mean to greet and exchange words with beloved brother and his companion. You seem well Nasir, how are the new recruits?"

"With enough training, they will become warriors yet," Nasir meets Duro's shining eyes, blushing and wanting nothing more than to hide face in Agron's back. He is still painfully hard, and thin cloth does not hide Agron's intention either.

"They are young. Barely pups," Duro nods, still blocking path, "Weather is good for continued practice."

"It is," Nasir nods, smiling up at the other. Agron does not look pleased, though conversation is pleasant, fingers flexing between Nasir's.

"If you are so inclined to their well being, you should over see them. You are worthy enough warrior. Let Nasir rest from sun's harsh gaze," Agron grins, waving towards dirt.

"Alas, I can not," Duro shakes his head, brown curls bouncing around his ears, "I am on watch tonight and need to rest."

"Yet you block path with idle conversation instead of sleeping. I would see us away from distracting you. Take to your bed, brother. We are to ours."

Agron rolls his eyes, moving around his brother and dragging Nasir with him.

"How am I to sleep if you aim to cause racket?" Duro calls loudly, laughing.

"Learn to block out noise!" Agron says back, not turning, "And do not be bitter, little brother. I am sure fist serves your purpose well!"

They are just within pillar's shade when voice is heard calling Agron's name. Turning shows Spartacus motioning with one arm, a cup of wine in each hand. Their short break from discussion must be over, and Agron is once again needed.

"Fuck the gods," Agron growls, nodding at the leader before turning frustrated eyes back to Nasir.

"Your voice appears most desired sound in all rebellion," Nasir teases, shaking his head up at the now pouting gladiator.

"I wish only to hear yours saying name in ear as I am within you," Agron mutters, leaning forehead on Nasir's shoulder. Nasir can not help but laugh at Agron's behavior.

"When sun has set and duties are finished, come find me. We will continue this conversation."

He kisses the side of Agron's head, moving to pull away. He is needed back in the courtyard, Aodhan and his friends have moved back towards it. With sudden movements, Agron yanks him back though, cupping his face in loving hands before whispering.

"Do not overly tire self when training new recruits. I would have your energy saved," Agron kisses Nasir slowly, tracing his bottom lip with tongue before biting, "I feel our conversation will last the night."

With a dimpled grin, Agron touches his forehead to Nasir's before turning and striding down hallway. The Syrian is left panting, feeling confused at Agron's odd behavior but still warm from it.

---

It is some time later, as Nasir walks between the training men, offering instruction and aid, that Duro approaches him with wide grin. When Agron first began to express interest towards Nasir, Duro did not support it. It was unwise for his brother to lose sight on end goal - kill the Romans and return to Germania. Nasir was simply a toy that Agron would grow attached to and have to discard when the time came. Barely being a year younger than Duro himself, Nasir appeared nothing more than pretty face and tight ass.

Nasir had proven worth the day Duro sustained sizable injury during raid. The Syrian had helped nurse Duro through the fever and stitched up the sizable wound. He also helped keep Agron from marching into Rome on blind and stupid mission for revenge. When Duro finally broke his fever three days later, he awoke to see Agron and Nasir curled up together beside his bed. They appeared to have never left his side as they were weary eyed and ruffled. Agron's large arms cradled Nasir close to chest, whose fingers were tangled in the leather cords around the man's neck. Pose seemed so natural, almost loving, and it surprised Duro. It was then that Duro realized fascination and distraction were elements in their budding relationship, as was unfathomable lust, but there was also the blossoming of love to be found – something Duro had never seen in his brother. How could he ever be against something that brought Agron so much joy?

"Little brother," Duro greeted, hugging Nasir and kissing the top of his head.

"Must you always remind me that you and your brother are giants?" Nasir sighs, shaking head, "Why are you not on bedroll? Do you not have watch tonight?"

Duro's mischievous grin gives answer away before words, "I only meant to tease him."

"You brat," Nasir laughed, tossing his head back, "You are just as bad as him."

Duro slings his arm around Nasir's shoulders, leading him towards the large jug of wine in the corner.

"I, at first, feared he was fleeing from such angry gaze," Duro dips a cup, handing it to Nasir, "but then realized it was for you and he must have been saving you."

"What are you prattling on about?" Leaning back against the pillar, Nasir continues to keep watchful eye on recruits. Naevia and Saxa had both joined in to help after midday meal, so his absence wasn't as pronounced.

"That blond Celt there," Duro points at Aodhan.

"Ah," Nasir nods knowingly, sipping from cup, "Regardless of instruction, he still finds self distracted by awe when in view of Spartacus. I fear for him if he should ever spar with the Bringer of Rain."

Duro laughs loudly, shaking his head and nudging Nasir. "You are much cooler of temper than my dear brother. Or perhaps more blind if you think he is gazing at Spartacus."

Nasir turns sharply, raising eyebrow, "He is just in childish excitement to see rebel leader so close."

"He is not casting gaze at Spartacus. That is also not childlike fascination, little brother."

"Speak plainly," Nasir snaps, though he knows what Duro is about to say before he does.

"His gaze was angry and unforgiving when watching you two earlier," Duro shrugs, "I thought at first you were staking claim on Agron. I stopped to tease you, but found Agron to be one dragging you away."

Duro points to Aodhan again. He has stopped sparring for moment, wiping forehead with cloth. Even from distance, Nasir can see his eyes trained on huddled leaders. Agron suddenly stands, raising hands above head in slow stretch, muscles pulling taught across chest and stomach. He seems unaware of Aodhan's gaze or the way the youth licks his lips at the display.

"He is just a boy. Why should I concern myself with this?" Nasir is shocked by hot, angry emotion that festers and bubbles in his chest. He does not want to label it yet.

"Do not be concern, Nasir. Agron's heart lies within your hands. I only attempt to make you aware that heat often produces fire. I would be weary of who gets burned."

Duro nods his head slightly at Nasir before turning back to his wine.