FIC: Gladiator - Maximus/Commodus - 2/2
TITLE: Heauton Timorumenos
AUTHOR: Napra
FANDOM: Gladiator
PAIRING: Maximus/Commodus
RATING: NC-17, SLASH
PART: 2/2
ARCHIVE: Please ask first
SUMMARY: AU/missing scenes - Emperor Commodus’ bloodlust is unquenchable. Visiting Maximus, the gladiator in his cell proves to reveal him the source and possibly the cure for his unbalanced humours. The challenge will be greater than he had feared...
Note: Heautontimorumenos: the self-tormentor
DISCLAIMER: The movie “Gladiator” which this story is based on belongs to Universal and Dreamworks. There is no profit being made here, so I’m not breaking copyright laws by publishing this.
Crossposted to
historic_slash
epicslash
Link to Part 1
Keen eyes watched the parchment as the flames devoured it. Satisfied eyes. Who were these prolls - no - peasants to imply he wasn’t fit to fight in the arena.
“Commodus imperator! Ille qui personatus est quam Herculi et in arena tigres edentulos mulieresque appugnat! - Commodus the emperor! He who dresses up as Hercules and fights in the arena with toothless tigers and women!”
This time he was too proud to send his spies after the anonymous satirist. Too much attention. One would doubt his self-esteem.
A clenched fist banged onto the desk - a candleholder clanked to the marble ground and resonated from column to column till it vanished in the vastness of the palace.
Commodus would not let his beloved people talk like that about him - NO! He would show Rome the warrior her leader had become. Now with Father being dead there was no one who possessed the authority to doubt him.
He would visit Maximus again tonight.
*
“The Spaniard - he is to be brought before me.”
“Yes, Sire,” the elderly warder snapped to attention, “forgive me, Sire. He is resting...”
“At once!”
The guard just about missed a praetorian’s blow as he scampered off.
Commodus waited in the visitor cell. He would never forget the look of contempt on the gladiator’s face as he was pushed inside and chained to the back wall.
“Leave us,” the emperor ordered in his light noble voice.
The two guards departed albeit reluctantly.
The torchlight was sparse and Commodus’ face was nearly entirely hidden under a lush royal blue and golden hood.
“Are you so cross I have disturbed your precious night’s sleep that you refuse to greet your beloved emperor - in the manner which is required!?”
Maximus didn’t bother to answer. “So you missed me - ”
Commodus was hit deep below the belt. Not only by the impudent words. It was more the slave’s smouldering look from beneath his brow and the arrogant posture of folding his arms behind his back as the chains rang.
“I have not missed you - piece of filth.”
Maximus laughed hoarsely.
“I have at last come to a conclusion what to do with you, my precious slave.”
The slave mouthed the emperor’s words in mock-surprise.
“Yes, I say precious because I know what power you hold over my people, in what state of stupor, in what frenzy you capture them in a way I thought I would never be able to. Until now.”
The long chains rattled again as Maximus dropped his arms and stepped forward. Commodus inched even further into his corner, but reached out.
“I challenge you to fight me in the arena - in three days.”
“Yes, of course.”
Maximus grinned and in a split second had Commodus’ wrist twisted round and forced his body backwards into his grasp.
“I have been waiting for the opportunity to kill you,” he hissed into the emperor’s ear. “An the sooner it dawns the better.”
Commodus inhaled male sweat. He longed to feel the beating heart of this odious animal, but his heavy regal garments prevented it.
“Under one condition.”
“How dare you to make demands...” Commodus burst out, but was silenced by a rough hand.
“Remember, I am the one here who has nothing to lose. I don’t care if the mob despises me. When we get out there onto the sands of the Colosseum - what would prevent me from ruining the show, committing suicide or making it too easy for you.”
The trembling and the stench of anger seeped through Maximus’ flimsy clothing. Commodus fought against his own fear. Yet what would be left in him without it? Only arousal...
“Alright, what do you desire?” his feeble voice asked.
“I want you to pleasure me.”
Commodus’ mind switched off for a second.
“W-what, do you want a public display of song and dance - I’m not fit for - I haven’t learnt - I -”
Maximus’ hand travelled up Commodus’ throat to silence his ramblings.
“You know what I mean.”
And then he let go.
The shackled slave had now won more power over royalty than any enemy armed to the teeth could have.
The emperor turned his back on Maximus and was about to make a furious departure. He thought the better of it. He looked into a pair of sheepish eyes - a pride not broken but fuelled.
How can he desire me? Am I not the one who had his wife and son slain?
As though he read Commodus’ mind Maximus spoke, “Do you remember sword practise in the snow. In Germania?”
He swallowed. “Of course I do...”
“And do you remember,” Maximus concluded, “how excited we both got when I dismissed your men and it was just you and me - the snowflakes dissolving on our bodies as we chased each other through the woods, hiding behind trees, aiming our swords at each other’s shadows till I caught you.”
“Yes, yes - you overpowered me on the ground - and it was freezing...”
“...till our royal highness decided it was too cold out and we returned to the camp.”
Maximus moved away from Commodus towards the oil basin in the corner to warm his hands.
As he turned to face Commodus again his face was bathed in flame colours.
“Coitus and death are so close.”
Commodus lowered his eyes to hide the hunger.
“Then slay me now.”
He pulled fibula out of his cape with control. The precious fabric met the filthy floor.
Maximus approached and roughly tugged at Commodus’ toga.
“This, too,” he said gruffly.
The emperor without clothes looked up at the slave and smiled wryly.
“And this, too,” he said, as he clawed at and finally tore Maximus’ light-blue undergarments.
At last they were chest to chest, man to man - equals in this first battle to come at this turning point of their lives. Opposites attracted through one evil and the forces of nature.
The first kiss was rushed, probing enemy territory till both men engaged in vital sucking and licking. Commodus scratched his nails along the other man’s muscles, first his taught shoulders, then down the back. Maximus’ hand searched the last layer of cloth down the emperor’s chest till he found his hardness and squeezed it.
A gurgled moan escaped the young man’s chest. He bit into Maximus’ lip and freed himself from the overpowering kiss. He looked down his own and the other man’s body.
“It’s been a long time since... hasn’t it?” Commodus sighed as he watched stiffening flesh twitch under his touch.
And very soon the emperor was going down on his knees lapping and kissing every patch of smooth skin. His tongue lingered at the scars, mounting them like ridges, then glided further down as his hand found its way up the inside of Maximus’ thigh. As the emperor’s mouth engulfed the prominent erection, the body twitched, but the slave’s ultimate silence neutralised the reaction. Commodus’ hands caught sweat around Maximus’ hips, but the skin felt dead despite the heat it was radiating. He sucked, licked, flicked his tongue against the head of the slave’s phallus and stopped. He pulled back a little to see crystal blue eyes stare into the distance.
A seductive whisper wrought him out of his reverie.
“Look at me.”
“A-eh,” Maximus sighed and obeyed.
Batting his long eyelashes once - twice, eyes fixed on his opponent, Commodus engulfed the gladiator’s erection slowly. He sucked it in deep, let it glide out. Then sucked it in again, this time deeper. And swallowed. And swallowed again. The phallus was warm and alive in his mouth and he relished it with every swipe of his tongue.
Maximus couldn’t help himself. Yes, it had been so long, the power of this man’s skills was overwhelming. He had to bury his hands in the thick course hair.
A hand snaked up his thigh and lifted his balls as the pace sped up.
“Nngh - yes!” Maximus groaned. And Commodus stopped. He let the bouncing organ slip from his wet lips, saliva glistening. As he got up from his knees he let them be kissed again.
“You didn’t finish - am I to expect more?”
Commodus took a handful of the other man’s buttock.
“I think we shall move on from here.”
Only covered in a long white shirt the emperor gracefully moved toward the oil basin.
“Reach out,” he demanded.
Maximus hesitated. Then he offered his cupped palms.
Carefully the cruel man tipped the basin slightly and poured some of the scorching liquid into the slave’s hands.
He could see Maximus’ jaw clench, his eyes watered up, but he wouldn’t relent.
“Brave man.”
“I have enough hard skin on my palms.” Maximus forced out a chuckle. “I’d like to see you do the same.” Still he stood, worthy of a statue.
Brazenly Commodus bathed his left hand in the slightly cooled oil in Maximus’ hand and let it trickle trough his fingers a while till he reached under his own shirt. As he did so he turned round and lifted the hem. He let his own fingers, first one, then two, then three slide into his widening anus always casting a look over his shoulder to make sure Maximus was watching. And indeed he was. He couldn’t take his eyes off the shameless display.
Commodus sighed as he pleasured himself. His fingers dug deeper, faster. Maximus’ erection - shortly diminished by the pain of his hands - was hardening rapidly. Again and again Commodus’ fingers dove into the oily palms to retrieve what would make their coupling all the more delightful.
With three fingers still buried inside him, Commodus spoke quite calmly, “You may now drop your hands.”
At last, Maximus thought, and spread the remaining oil across Commodus’ chest, tearing the cloth from him in shreds and rubbing it all into his skin.
The two men were very close now. Two bodies inseparably pressed to one another, the oil sleek and sweetening the friction.
Commodus lavished the coarseness of Maximus’ chest while the other man sought to ruin the pureness which was Commodus’ skin with bites and scratches. They let their upright phalluses slip past each other from side to side in unbearable anticipation.
After another long kiss Commodus let his lips travel to Maximus’ ear.
“I think I’m ready.”
He tugged once more at Maximus’ erection.
“How?”
“Here on the floor.”
His hands wandered down Maximus’ sides as he lay down on his discarded clothes. He rejoiced in the secrecy of their situation.
Maximus grunted as he lowered himself onto the other man and forcefully turned him facedown.
For the first time Maximus took Commodus’ phallus and balls into his hand from underneath. He jerked a few times roughly, then wandered back up again along Commodus’ cleft, making sure a finger lingered at the twitching opening.
He leant down.
“You really are well prepared, my emperor.”
Just a sigh, and maybe a whimper, and Maximus’ thick cock was buried inside in a split second.
Commodus was in heaven. Maximus was perfect: press-ups and digging right down again from above. Into him.
“Oh gods, I might come from this alone...” he moaned.
Maximus laughed. He was well on the way. He played with Commodus’ lips, let him lick his fingers like a cat. But he eventually wanted to get at Commodus’ cock. He pulled at his hips and lifted him up.
“Argh - I’m so close...” Maximus groaned.
Commodus clenched his buttocks as he arranged himself on his knees.
“Then make sure you fuck me well before you come!”
And he banged against Maximus a few times who then took control again immediately, grabbed Commodus’ hips with one hand and his cock in the other fucked him into oblivion.
*
All was quiet. The mob was silent. But in his head the blood seemed louder than ten-thousand men. Numbed by his own unbearable pain the last spurts of vengeful rage surely guided the dagger into the other man’s throat. And as the last breath escaped the white-clad beauty’s soiled mouth, the warrior’s hand gently lowered the youth’s head toward the sand - till he dropped him.
He was going to die now, too. Sometimes fortune threw one fiercer into the arms of one’s enemies than those of one’s beloved. And now they were going to die together. He had once loved Commodus. He could have loved him again.
AUTHOR: Napra
FANDOM: Gladiator
PAIRING: Maximus/Commodus
RATING: NC-17, SLASH
PART: 2/2
ARCHIVE: Please ask first
SUMMARY: AU/missing scenes - Emperor Commodus’ bloodlust is unquenchable. Visiting Maximus, the gladiator in his cell proves to reveal him the source and possibly the cure for his unbalanced humours. The challenge will be greater than he had feared...
Note: Heautontimorumenos: the self-tormentor
DISCLAIMER: The movie “Gladiator” which this story is based on belongs to Universal and Dreamworks. There is no profit being made here, so I’m not breaking copyright laws by publishing this.
Crossposted to
historic_slash
epicslash
Link to Part 1
Keen eyes watched the parchment as the flames devoured it. Satisfied eyes. Who were these prolls - no - peasants to imply he wasn’t fit to fight in the arena.
“Commodus imperator! Ille qui personatus est quam Herculi et in arena tigres edentulos mulieresque appugnat! - Commodus the emperor! He who dresses up as Hercules and fights in the arena with toothless tigers and women!”
This time he was too proud to send his spies after the anonymous satirist. Too much attention. One would doubt his self-esteem.
A clenched fist banged onto the desk - a candleholder clanked to the marble ground and resonated from column to column till it vanished in the vastness of the palace.
Commodus would not let his beloved people talk like that about him - NO! He would show Rome the warrior her leader had become. Now with Father being dead there was no one who possessed the authority to doubt him.
He would visit Maximus again tonight.
*
“The Spaniard - he is to be brought before me.”
“Yes, Sire,” the elderly warder snapped to attention, “forgive me, Sire. He is resting...”
“At once!”
The guard just about missed a praetorian’s blow as he scampered off.
Commodus waited in the visitor cell. He would never forget the look of contempt on the gladiator’s face as he was pushed inside and chained to the back wall.
“Leave us,” the emperor ordered in his light noble voice.
The two guards departed albeit reluctantly.
The torchlight was sparse and Commodus’ face was nearly entirely hidden under a lush royal blue and golden hood.
“Are you so cross I have disturbed your precious night’s sleep that you refuse to greet your beloved emperor - in the manner which is required!?”
Maximus didn’t bother to answer. “So you missed me - ”
Commodus was hit deep below the belt. Not only by the impudent words. It was more the slave’s smouldering look from beneath his brow and the arrogant posture of folding his arms behind his back as the chains rang.
“I have not missed you - piece of filth.”
Maximus laughed hoarsely.
“I have at last come to a conclusion what to do with you, my precious slave.”
The slave mouthed the emperor’s words in mock-surprise.
“Yes, I say precious because I know what power you hold over my people, in what state of stupor, in what frenzy you capture them in a way I thought I would never be able to. Until now.”
The long chains rattled again as Maximus dropped his arms and stepped forward. Commodus inched even further into his corner, but reached out.
“I challenge you to fight me in the arena - in three days.”
“Yes, of course.”
Maximus grinned and in a split second had Commodus’ wrist twisted round and forced his body backwards into his grasp.
“I have been waiting for the opportunity to kill you,” he hissed into the emperor’s ear. “An the sooner it dawns the better.”
Commodus inhaled male sweat. He longed to feel the beating heart of this odious animal, but his heavy regal garments prevented it.
“Under one condition.”
“How dare you to make demands...” Commodus burst out, but was silenced by a rough hand.
“Remember, I am the one here who has nothing to lose. I don’t care if the mob despises me. When we get out there onto the sands of the Colosseum - what would prevent me from ruining the show, committing suicide or making it too easy for you.”
The trembling and the stench of anger seeped through Maximus’ flimsy clothing. Commodus fought against his own fear. Yet what would be left in him without it? Only arousal...
“Alright, what do you desire?” his feeble voice asked.
“I want you to pleasure me.”
Commodus’ mind switched off for a second.
“W-what, do you want a public display of song and dance - I’m not fit for - I haven’t learnt - I -”
Maximus’ hand travelled up Commodus’ throat to silence his ramblings.
“You know what I mean.”
And then he let go.
The shackled slave had now won more power over royalty than any enemy armed to the teeth could have.
The emperor turned his back on Maximus and was about to make a furious departure. He thought the better of it. He looked into a pair of sheepish eyes - a pride not broken but fuelled.
How can he desire me? Am I not the one who had his wife and son slain?
As though he read Commodus’ mind Maximus spoke, “Do you remember sword practise in the snow. In Germania?”
He swallowed. “Of course I do...”
“And do you remember,” Maximus concluded, “how excited we both got when I dismissed your men and it was just you and me - the snowflakes dissolving on our bodies as we chased each other through the woods, hiding behind trees, aiming our swords at each other’s shadows till I caught you.”
“Yes, yes - you overpowered me on the ground - and it was freezing...”
“...till our royal highness decided it was too cold out and we returned to the camp.”
Maximus moved away from Commodus towards the oil basin in the corner to warm his hands.
As he turned to face Commodus again his face was bathed in flame colours.
“Coitus and death are so close.”
Commodus lowered his eyes to hide the hunger.
“Then slay me now.”
He pulled fibula out of his cape with control. The precious fabric met the filthy floor.
Maximus approached and roughly tugged at Commodus’ toga.
“This, too,” he said gruffly.
The emperor without clothes looked up at the slave and smiled wryly.
“And this, too,” he said, as he clawed at and finally tore Maximus’ light-blue undergarments.
At last they were chest to chest, man to man - equals in this first battle to come at this turning point of their lives. Opposites attracted through one evil and the forces of nature.
The first kiss was rushed, probing enemy territory till both men engaged in vital sucking and licking. Commodus scratched his nails along the other man’s muscles, first his taught shoulders, then down the back. Maximus’ hand searched the last layer of cloth down the emperor’s chest till he found his hardness and squeezed it.
A gurgled moan escaped the young man’s chest. He bit into Maximus’ lip and freed himself from the overpowering kiss. He looked down his own and the other man’s body.
“It’s been a long time since... hasn’t it?” Commodus sighed as he watched stiffening flesh twitch under his touch.
And very soon the emperor was going down on his knees lapping and kissing every patch of smooth skin. His tongue lingered at the scars, mounting them like ridges, then glided further down as his hand found its way up the inside of Maximus’ thigh. As the emperor’s mouth engulfed the prominent erection, the body twitched, but the slave’s ultimate silence neutralised the reaction. Commodus’ hands caught sweat around Maximus’ hips, but the skin felt dead despite the heat it was radiating. He sucked, licked, flicked his tongue against the head of the slave’s phallus and stopped. He pulled back a little to see crystal blue eyes stare into the distance.
A seductive whisper wrought him out of his reverie.
“Look at me.”
“A-eh,” Maximus sighed and obeyed.
Batting his long eyelashes once - twice, eyes fixed on his opponent, Commodus engulfed the gladiator’s erection slowly. He sucked it in deep, let it glide out. Then sucked it in again, this time deeper. And swallowed. And swallowed again. The phallus was warm and alive in his mouth and he relished it with every swipe of his tongue.
Maximus couldn’t help himself. Yes, it had been so long, the power of this man’s skills was overwhelming. He had to bury his hands in the thick course hair.
A hand snaked up his thigh and lifted his balls as the pace sped up.
“Nngh - yes!” Maximus groaned. And Commodus stopped. He let the bouncing organ slip from his wet lips, saliva glistening. As he got up from his knees he let them be kissed again.
“You didn’t finish - am I to expect more?”
Commodus took a handful of the other man’s buttock.
“I think we shall move on from here.”
Only covered in a long white shirt the emperor gracefully moved toward the oil basin.
“Reach out,” he demanded.
Maximus hesitated. Then he offered his cupped palms.
Carefully the cruel man tipped the basin slightly and poured some of the scorching liquid into the slave’s hands.
He could see Maximus’ jaw clench, his eyes watered up, but he wouldn’t relent.
“Brave man.”
“I have enough hard skin on my palms.” Maximus forced out a chuckle. “I’d like to see you do the same.” Still he stood, worthy of a statue.
Brazenly Commodus bathed his left hand in the slightly cooled oil in Maximus’ hand and let it trickle trough his fingers a while till he reached under his own shirt. As he did so he turned round and lifted the hem. He let his own fingers, first one, then two, then three slide into his widening anus always casting a look over his shoulder to make sure Maximus was watching. And indeed he was. He couldn’t take his eyes off the shameless display.
Commodus sighed as he pleasured himself. His fingers dug deeper, faster. Maximus’ erection - shortly diminished by the pain of his hands - was hardening rapidly. Again and again Commodus’ fingers dove into the oily palms to retrieve what would make their coupling all the more delightful.
With three fingers still buried inside him, Commodus spoke quite calmly, “You may now drop your hands.”
At last, Maximus thought, and spread the remaining oil across Commodus’ chest, tearing the cloth from him in shreds and rubbing it all into his skin.
The two men were very close now. Two bodies inseparably pressed to one another, the oil sleek and sweetening the friction.
Commodus lavished the coarseness of Maximus’ chest while the other man sought to ruin the pureness which was Commodus’ skin with bites and scratches. They let their upright phalluses slip past each other from side to side in unbearable anticipation.
After another long kiss Commodus let his lips travel to Maximus’ ear.
“I think I’m ready.”
He tugged once more at Maximus’ erection.
“How?”
“Here on the floor.”
His hands wandered down Maximus’ sides as he lay down on his discarded clothes. He rejoiced in the secrecy of their situation.
Maximus grunted as he lowered himself onto the other man and forcefully turned him facedown.
For the first time Maximus took Commodus’ phallus and balls into his hand from underneath. He jerked a few times roughly, then wandered back up again along Commodus’ cleft, making sure a finger lingered at the twitching opening.
He leant down.
“You really are well prepared, my emperor.”
Just a sigh, and maybe a whimper, and Maximus’ thick cock was buried inside in a split second.
Commodus was in heaven. Maximus was perfect: press-ups and digging right down again from above. Into him.
“Oh gods, I might come from this alone...” he moaned.
Maximus laughed. He was well on the way. He played with Commodus’ lips, let him lick his fingers like a cat. But he eventually wanted to get at Commodus’ cock. He pulled at his hips and lifted him up.
“Argh - I’m so close...” Maximus groaned.
Commodus clenched his buttocks as he arranged himself on his knees.
“Then make sure you fuck me well before you come!”
And he banged against Maximus a few times who then took control again immediately, grabbed Commodus’ hips with one hand and his cock in the other fucked him into oblivion.
*
All was quiet. The mob was silent. But in his head the blood seemed louder than ten-thousand men. Numbed by his own unbearable pain the last spurts of vengeful rage surely guided the dagger into the other man’s throat. And as the last breath escaped the white-clad beauty’s soiled mouth, the warrior’s hand gently lowered the youth’s head toward the sand - till he dropped him.
He was going to die now, too. Sometimes fortune threw one fiercer into the arms of one’s enemies than those of one’s beloved. And now they were going to die together. He had once loved Commodus. He could have loved him again.