Roman of Interest - Chapters 22 - Epilogue
Title: Roman of Interest - Chapters 22 - Epilogue
Author: kmmerc
Pairing: Finch/Reese
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5,600
I had deleted the most recent chapters - sorry! Here are chapters 22 through the epilogue. I hope they will be enjoyed. Thanks to everyone who came along for this amazing journey! Love you!
Chapter 22
Harold’s mind spun, grasping bits of his and John’s past and future lives as they hurried towards the ship’s cabin for their reunion. He suddenly wished he was wearing a pair of boxer briefs, something he’d wear often, one day. Harold wished he had such a futuristic garment, anything really, to help control his raging cock which leaked and pressed against his fine wool chiton in a manner most unbecoming.
John moved to light the lamp but Harold stopped him. “No, in the dark, at f…first,” Harold stammered.
The door closed, the room was dark but Harold could still see John slipping off the bit of cloth from around his waist, the taller man’s erection stretching out before him. John sat down on the bed, spreading his legs and patting the space between them for Harold to sit. Pulling off his chiton, his face flushed (he hoped it was too dark for John to see that), Harold sat down on the bed and scooted back until his body was flush with his long-awaited lover.
John’s arms surrounded the smaller man, caressing his chest and stomach. “Oh, Harold - your tummy is gone!” he said with a groan, tracing Harold’s sternum and ribs. “When we get to Will’s estate I’m going to have to fatten you up.&rdquo
“Mhhhmm,” was the only sound that Harold could make - John’s lips had found the side of his neck and the soft kisses, interspersed with harder and harder nips, made him dizzy with lust. John’s hands continued to pet him, sliding up and down his sides and tracing the muscles and soft skin of Harold’s arms and back. Harold could feel John’s need pressing against his buttocks and made a special effort to wiggle against the hot, hard presence. He smiled and began to relax as he listened to John’s pleased grunts and felt the early essence of John’s pleasures painting a swatch across the small of his back
“John - I’m an idiot. I could have been feeling this - sharing this with you days ago.”
“No, Harold - not an idiot, just human,” admonished John. “And besides, you are worth the wait,” he said before nipping at Harold’s ear. John finally reached down and found what he was after between Harold’s legs
“I see part of you is still nice and fat,” John moaned appreciatively, gently tracing his loose grip from base to tip.
“John!!” cried Harold, arching his back, every bit of him concentrating on the feeling of John’s hand. He lifted his hips and John slipped his hard cock underneath - sliding along Harold’s cheeks and the warm, soft skin below his sack. Harold clenched and writhed, stimulating John’s steely length as he, himself, was pleasured.
John picked up speed and stroked the gasping man on his lap, biting down on his shoulder as Harold shuddered, sending thick stripes of white onto his furry stomach. John nearly lifted them both off the bed as he followed, coming hard against Harold’s soft bottom.
“That was worth the wait,” Harold murmured, collapsing onto his side. John nodded against Harold’s neck. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said, happily spooning against his love, falling asleep.
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Harold woke up John, moving out of the bed to light the lamp. He shared a shy smile with the tall, dark man who had almost become a stranger.
“You’re so beautiful, John,” he whispered, tracing a loving hand along John’s back. Moaning with contentment, the warrior slid onto his belly, Harold’s hand following downward to John’s delicious ass. John spread his legs and Harold slid his hand between them, finding the edge of the heavy scar John had received from Nix.
“John, I’m so sorry…” Harold couldn’t continue speaking, his hand conveying his thoughts as he massaged the newly healed tissue. John stifled a moan and asked, “Did you notice my limp?”
“No, you…you looked fine - though I was a bit distracted.”
“It isn’t bad, really -just enough to keep me out of the Arena. I can’t compete professionally anymore. You’ll have to find some other kind of work for me, if you don’t want to sell me, that is.”
Harold cupped John’s sex and leaned in to give John’s closest nipple a lingering kiss. “I should have done this formally, months ago - you are a free man, John. I’ll be happy to have you, and if you chose to stay, I’ll make sure you become a citizen.”
“A citizen?” asked John.
“Only citizens can legally marry,” whispered Harold, suddenly looking bashful again.
“Can two men really marry? If not, perhaps you can appointment me as your concubine,” smiled John, trying, unsuccessfully, to wink.
“Emperor Nero set the precedent - he married men three times,” replied Harold, his finger brushing against John’s opening. “I’m sure I can bribe a Senator or two, if there are any problems.”
“Then I’ll gladly be your wife,” whimpered John, pressing against Harold’s invading finger. “In fact, I’m ready for you, if you want me.”
Chapter 23
Harold had never penetrated anyone, not even Nathan, who’d been his lover for so many years. “He was a traditional Roman male,” explained Harold as he prepared John’s entrance. “He always had to be on top - never even suckled me,” Harold sighed
John looked up, his eyes wide with lust. “But, think of everything he missed! Harold - once we’re married, I hope you don’t follow his traditions, for I surely want you mouthing me. And if I couldn’t fuck you…”
Laughing, Harold placed a soft, blowing kiss on the small of John’s back. “Fear not, my love. I may be a Roman now but I was born in Brittania and we are a lusty people. Going without your cock, in any way, would be like renouncing salt or wine - unimaginable.” As if to emphasize his point, Harold rolled John onto his side and kissed the gladiator’s slick, musky cock while adding another finger to his thrusting hand
“Yes!! Nghhh!” cried John as Harold’s questing fingers brushed against his prostate. “Please, take me!”
Harold started to tremble, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to do it - that he’d leave his newly returned lover wanting. John, sensing his fears, drew his knees beneath him so that his slick entrance was perfectly situated for Harold to penetrate. “Don’t worry, Harold - we’ve waited so long for this and you can never disappoint me.”
Heartened, Harold stroked John’s hips, counting the silver and red stripes on John’s back as he took a deep breath and pressed the head of his cock against John. He added some more oil and, his cock in hand, circled John’s ring of muscles, slowly pressing until it was inside. They rested like that, for a moment, savoring the new sensation - a portent of the ecstasies they knew they’d spend the rest of their lives sharing. Finally, John groaned, pushing against Harold, taking in more of his cock. Harold bit his lip to keep from coming; successful, he started thrusting his hips, moving deeper until he realized that his sack was brushing against John. With each successive thrust, John bore down on him, squeezing his cock with his internal muscles. Despite the overwhelming sensations assailing him, Harold was somehow able to connect John’s delighted howls with thrusts of a particular angle and began deliberately aiming to please his lover. John came first, his body wrenching Harold’s cock with such force that Harold could only follow, his hot fluids flooding John’s insides. Sweating and exhausted, he collapsed upon John, their mating complete.
They were almost asleep when a loud wail assaulted their ears; Leila. John stood up first, murmuring , “I’ll get her.&rdquo
Harold stood up, stiffly, and remade the bed, wiping himself carefully off with the blanket on which they’d just made love. He perched on the edge of the bed, waiting for his family.
“Lionel fed and changed her but she was still upset,” said John, slipping the red-faced infant into Harold’s arms. She quieted instantly, her head nodding against her father’s chest as she stared intently at John, reaching out her hand to grasp his finger. Sliding her back to John, Harold lay down, his back against the wall so there was enough room for Leila between them. John curled up next to them, drawing another blanket over their bodies and they fell asleep.
Chapter 24
The ship landed safely at the docks built on the harbor adjoining Will’s land - an anti-climactic ending to a voyage fraught with pain and risk. Lionel stayed aboard, anxious to return to Joss and Rollie, helping the men unload their belongings before the ship continued on its route to Rome. Harold carried Leila, followed by the goats. One in particular, whom he’d named Clementine, followed closely at his heels. Though the smallest, she was the boss of the three nannies and the others went wherever she (and Harold) led them. Bear, in turn, heeled at John’s side. Although extremely fond of Harold and Leila, all agreed that he was John’s dog now.
The first week was nothing but sleeping, eating and tending to Leila, punctuated by long, leisurely bouts of lovemaking when they could find someone to watch the little darling, who was growing larger and more inquisitive every day. Harold swore that Leila was a genius and that she was already saying ‘papa’ for both him and John. John kept his doubts to himself, preferring to just enjoy the baby’s happy patter
Though both men toured the small, bustling town, both men soon found reasons to stay within the confines of Will’s personal estate
Harold disliked being the object of so many people’s affection - over half the townsfolk were living there because he had saved them from starvation, unjust legal penalties, personal threat and cruel slave owners. He breathed a sigh of relief when they began showing their gratitude by showering Leila with simple and necessary gifts of diapers, simple toys and clothing.
John’s interaction with many of the villagers was a bit more problematic. Harold had never gotten around to giving John a haircut. Now the dark and silver hair reached John’s shoulders and he’d grown a beard, as well. Harold enjoyed complaining about the facial hair, secretly enjoying the way is tickled the inside of his thighs when John was being attentive. John’s troubles began after he ran into the group of Christians who’d been in the Arena with him on the day Harold had found him. John had refused to attack the elderly men, women and children and had paid the price - being knocked unconscious and left for dead. John watched as the group whispered and pointed discretely at him from a distance. Soon he was followed everywhere by the reverent group, who stared expectantly at him, as if he were to make some profound pronouncement. Will made some discrete inquiries and soon had an explanation: the Christian villagers believed John was Jesus Christ, returned.
“What?” gasped John, carefully patting Harold’s back after the older man spat out his mouthful of wine. “What did you say to them, John, to give them that idea?” asked the bewildered genius.
“I don’t recall, exactly. It was just before a major injury to my head, after all. I remember saying ‘Peace be with you’ and then something about rising again to save them. OH!” John took a deep swig of wine and looked embarrassed while Will and Harold bit their tongues to keep from laughing, grateful that the acerbic Lionel was not with them. John made it a point, after that, to keep his trips in public brief.
Harold, did, however make several brief trips around the local side, refusing to share any details with John. “All in due time, my beloved,” he answered when John asked of his doings.
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“John, will you really marry me?” asked Harold, his lower lip trembling as he gently covered the larger man’s hand.
“I promised, remember?” asked John, suddenly worrying that Harold had changed his mind, that is until he watched Harold practically wilt with relief, sliding onto John’s lap with a crooked smile.
“Then we have some business to take care of, a matter of your dowry.”
John suddenly looked dejected. “Harold, the only thing I own is my sword, which you gave me, and my dog, which belongs to you as well. All I have is my love for you… and my body.”
“That should be enough, shouldn’t it, my pet,” assured Harold, petting down John’s chest until he reached the crux of John’s legs, pausing to give John’s ample cock a gentle squeeze. “But we’re Romans now. And does it really matter if your belongings were mine, first? You come to the marriage an independent man of wealth, I assure you.”
Harold reached into a leather satchel at his side, pulling out a pile of scrolls. “First, here is a deed to forty acres adjoining our estate in Rome. It’s undeveloped but I’m sure you’ll find some use for it. I’m also giving you the ownership of Crazy Harold’s Dildo Emporium. Trask will continue to manage it for you - it will be been a very steady source of income for you, I’m sure. I’ve also deposited 500,000 denarii in an account at the Argentarius Roma - the central banking house of Rome.
ut first, I have something for you.” Harold shyly held pressed a tiny, silk pouch into John’s hand. “Open it,” he encouraged, his smile widening to a grin.
John undid the knot and fished his finger into the pouch, pulling out a two simple gold bands. “Women traditionally receive an iron band when they accept a marriage proposal. I wanted something more permanent. And,” he admitted, “I wanted one, too!”
John slipped the ring onto Harold’s finger and allowed Harold to return the favor, pleased that his band fit his finger perfectly. “I love you, Harold,” John whispered, burying his face against the top of Harold’s head, inhaling his warm scent.
“And I love you, John. But, one more question - do you love horses?”
“Horses?” asked John, rolling his eyes. “Well, mi amore, you are hung like a horse…”
Harold laughed. “No, actual horses - you know four legs, hairy tail, big eyes…”
Smiling back, John nodded. “I love horses - I used to take care of Brutus, my family’s plow horse. He was a tired old thing but he was full of heart. But Harold, why?”
“Come with me,” was all that Harold would say as he lured John out into the garden behind Will’s villa. There, being watched by Will, were four horses, a gelding and three mares. Two of the mares were bay, the other chestnut - all three with soft, gentle eyes and finely sculpted limbs. Though gentle rounded, they showed promise for outstanding speed and agility. The gelding was another matter - tall and almost raw-boned, the dapple grey’s eyes burned with intelligence and curiosity, already approaching the former gladiator for food and scratches.
“The mares are the finest that I could purchase from Artemis, the master horseman of the region. All three are in foal - we should be having babies in the spring. The gelding is for riding - he was the warhorse of Artemis’s son, who died last year. Artemis said that the horse has been fretting, losing ground - it needs someone to love.”
John reached out a hand, finding an itchy spot behind the grey’s ear. The horse leaned into the scratch, sighing happily.
“What’s his name?” John asked, faintly.
“Jacopo.”
Turning from Jacopo, John smiled. “Are they really for me?”
“If they suit you,” countered Harold, trying to hide his happiness that his gifts were well received.
“They suit me almost as much as you do,” laughed John, sweeping his fiancé into thorough kiss.
Chapter 25
Well rested, the small family, with its latest additions, slowly made their way back to Rome as the seasons changed - from summer to fall. Will came with them, not only to help but to lend assistance in the planning of John and Harold’s wedding.
“You know, Will, your father will always be in my heart - I’ll never stop loving him,” assured Harold, almost more to himself than for Will’s sake.
“I know, Harold. But if my father isn’t here, John is…well, after Father died, I worried that you’d never be happy again. John makes you happy - I couldn’t ask for someone better for you,” replied Will, hugging Harold tight.
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There was another surprise to greet them upon their return. Joss greeted them with Rollie in her arms and when she put down the rambunctious toddler, it was apparent to all despite her loosely fitting garment that the strong blacksmith was with child.
“My Dear,” gasped Harold, laughing and wiping away a stray tear as he folded his arms around her. John scooped up Rollie and bent down and kissed the top of Joss’s head, before smothering the small boy with smooches
“Congratulations, Joss,” John grinned.
“Well, thank you. You know, it’s your fault, really,” laughed Joss, smoothing her robe over her rounded belly. “In fact, Lionel and I are thinking of naming this one John, it’s a boy.”
“My fault?” squeaked John. “Oh? Oh! I guess it might be. Harold’s fault, too,” he laughed, remembering all the times their lovemaking seemed to inspire Joss and Lionel.
They were all laughing when Will walked in, carrying Leila.
“There’s the little angel!” cried Joss, reaching out to stroke the baby’s hair. “I’ve heard so much about you, you darling! It will be so nice to have another woman in the house!” Will slid the baby into her arms, ignoring Rollie’s jealous wails. “He’s going to have to get used to it, sooner or later,” Lionel laughed, picking up his son. Rollie, the king of the household, was only placated when Lionel placed him upon Jacopo’s saddle, holding him steady as John led them slowly around the villa.
The next month was filled with activity - not only were the wedding plans filling their hours but several more innocents were rescued after Harold returned to the Temple to receive further instructions from the mysterious fumes. John and Harold promised each other that with Leila their responsibility, family now came first but all attempts would be made to continue their quest to rescue those whose lives were imperiled. Fortunately, most of their work, in this regard, boiled down to some minor blackmail and timely pay-offs that Harold could easily afford. John, though, kept his blade sharp in readiness.
That being said, the former Gladiator now spent a good portion of his day down at the Emporium.
“I never knew there was so much to be learned about dildos!” John exclaimed to a laughing Trask, who assured him that he’d know the ins and outs of the dildo trade in a few weeks’ time. When he wasn’t doing inventory or picking up shipments from the docks, John lovingly re-touched the fresco on the outside of the shop, making Harold’s likeness shine anew
“You really need to come down and see it, Harold - I really captured you,” John cajoled, pointedly squeezing Harold’s erection.
“I seem to have better things to do,” said Harold, stiffly, moaning as John sucked down upon him.
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The evening finally arrived and so had so many of Harold and John’s friends, new and old. Even the secretive Elias showed up, bringing a lovely water-clock for the happy pair. Leila, dressed in a diaphanous pink dress, sat in Joss’s arms as Tailor, who designed the wedding outfits, kept careful watch over his active little brother. Darren stationed himself near the front entrance - they didn’t expect any trouble from Root or any other adversary but all felt a sense of relief when the intelligent young man volunteered to keep watch.
The sun went down and the candles were lit: the ceremony was beginning.
John slowly entered the atrium, flanked by Lionel, his attendant. John wore a variation on the standard toga - a rich garment that matched the transparent, flame colored veil that covered his head, topped with flowers he’d gathered that morning and woven into a wreath. The goats, Leila and Bear had not made this an easy task yet John prevailed, determined to make the most beautiful ‘bride’ for his beloved.
The gown clung to his every curve, terminating just above his knees and draping over his right shoulder, affixed by a beautiful gold pin in the shape of a finch, leaving most of his chest and left shoulder bare. A silken rope cinched his waist - it was of traditional style worn by bride and tied with ‘the knot of Hercules’ - an intricate knot that Harold would have to tease open before consummating the marriage. After much discussion, both decided to wear simply white loincloths underneath their outfits - a symbol of purity, Harold argued. John, with Lionel and Joss, laughed at the mere thought but in the end, John couldn’t deny his lover.
Lionel and Will carried sheathes of wheat wrapped in matching scarlet ribbons - for virility in the marriage, for fertility was not an issue between the two men! John carried his katana, also beribboned, rather than the spindle women usually bore at such times - evidence of his desire to serve and protect Harold.
Neither had seen the other’s wedding garb and as John’s eyes adjusted to the light of the room he gasped - Harold was clothed in a simple, finely cut toga of deep purple. No one amongst the assembled guests had seen an entire garment of the rarest of colors - not even on the Emperor himself. Harold grinned and blushed, pleased with the stunned, rapturous look on John’s face.
Harold waited for John next to the altar, a waist-high table bearing a statue of Jupiter. Alicia, a Vestal Virgin was the happy officiant of ceremony - she and Harold were friends of old and she’d comforted him after Nathan’s untimely death. Smiling, she nodded towards the trio at the atrium’s entrance, inviting them to the altar. They both sat down on their chairs and trembling, John reached across the altar and clasped hands with a beaming Harold.
Alicia welcomed the happy couple and their witnesses, then signaled Harold and John to recite their vows.
“Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaius ("as you are Gaius, I am Gaius")” vowed John, squeezing Harold’s hands tightly to prevent both men from fainting before the crowd of family and well-wishers. A tear slipped down Harold’s cheek as he whispered “Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaius.&rdquo
Harold felt a nudge at his side. Will grinned, handing his father a large platter on which rested an elaborate cake covered with fruit and honey. Harold handed it to Alicia who offered it to Jupiter, asking the god to grant John and Harold a long and happy marriage. She handed Harold a knife with which to cut a small piece of the cake. Harold leaned over and lifted John’s veil, taking a sliver of the cake and pressed it to his lips. John took the morsel, not bothering to mask the fact that his tongue captured the beads of honey dripping from his husband’s fingers. He swallowed and took the knife, cutting a piece for Harold, who took it daintily, blushing all the while. With that, they were married, though John stood up, pulling Harold to his feet. Their lips met as they leaned over the altar, tenderly sealing their intertwined fates, as they had in the past and would again, in future lives. What the Gods have joined together, let no one put asunder.
Chapter 26
Their kiss, finally broken, was the signal for their company to shout and cheer the happy couple. Walnuts were thrown at them as they joyfully received fervent congratulations, making their way to the nearby bridal chamber, separated from the others by only a thin muslin screen. John hovered over Harold, protectively, easily batting away the flying nuts, catching several and aiming them back at Darren, Taylor and Fusco, who eagerly embraced this ancient tradition ensuring virile husbands.
“I can’t believe it, John - you’re finally mine,” sighed Harold, helping John remove his flammeum, the beautiful red veil. He continued, gently removing the golden finch pinned to the draped fabric on John’s shoulders, baring John’s beautifully muscled chest. John took Harold’s hands, guiding him to the elaborate knot now dangling between John’s firm thighs. “You need to take of this, first, darling,” John whispered over the noisy guests, who had begun to sing ribald songs to honor (and encourage) the newly married couple.
There was no finer, more nimble set of fingers than Harold’s but even John became impatient as his husband slowly worked the thick, intricate knot while almost absent-mindedly stroking and caressing John into a lather.
“Take my katana, Harold - cut it, please! I can’t wait much longer for you!”
“There, there,” spoke the older man, brushing the left edge of John’s white loincloth aside, dabbing his tongue against the salty-sweet dampness he found there. “Good things come to those who wait,” he added, dipping an oiled finger along John’s crack, nudging gently against the puckered ring of muscles he found there. John began groaning loudly enough for the guests to take notice and cheer and Harold quickened his pace, pulling apart the tangled silk cord until it finally lay coiled around John’s sweating torso. He wasn’t given any time to think, after that - John surged up, pulling Harold on top of him and began kissing and biting the smaller man.
“Harold!” John cried, spreading his legs further to aid in the necessary preparations
“On your knees,” Harold ordered, thickly. He took John’s forearms, winding the red cord tightly around them. There was no need to tie it - Harold knew he had every bit of John’s cooperation. Running his hand along John’s back and steadying against his hips, Harold slipped behind him.
“You are so beautiful, John!” he cried, pressing himself inside John’s heat. Now Harold was the one making the loudest sounds, the pair forming a throaty duet of rising lust, reaching a crescendo as together they peaked.
Exhausted, Harold withdrew and slid along John’s side, removing the cord and rubbing the red lines from John’s arms. The success of their lovemaking was an auspicious sign, one promising a lifetime of passion and fidelity
John and Harold re-dressed, in simple chitons, this time, listening as the party grew louder -their friends and family chanted their names, calling them to re-join the party. A trio of musicians began to play as the newlyweds returned. John and Harold danced, with Lionel and with Will, with a very pregnant Joss and with a very bubbly Rollie
But mostly they danced together, along with Leila; retiring to bed when she fell asleep, cradled against John’s shoulder as the music wound down for the night.
Fin
Epilogue
Leila hurried to put the baby into his basket before hurrying to the bed. Her father, so thin now, barely made an impression under the heavy blanket covering him, despite the summer warmth.
“Nathan?” Harold asked, his voice barely over a whisper.
“Yes, Papa, that was Nathan - I’m sorry he woke you.” She knew the baby would continue to sleep, tucked in the basket he napped in but Leila suddenly changed her mind, lifting the infant and tucking him against Harold’s side
“He looks just like his name-sake,” Harold said, managing a ghost of a smile as he gently stroked the baby’s wheat colored hair. I wish Nathan and John could have seen him…”
Almost out of energy, Harold’s voice tapered off as Leila dabbed her eyes. It was thirty five years since she’s been adopted by her two fathers. She’d married at age thirty, rather later than most. She’d chosen Jesse, the son of Will and Lily, who’d met at her fathers’ wedding. John died, suddenly two years after, a surprise considering Harold was the older of the pair and looked considerably frailer. They’d found John, asleep under the arbor overlooking the pasture full of that year’s crop of colts and fillies, a faint smile remaining, still.
Harold took John’s death with surprising ease - ‘I’ll see my darling soon enough,’ he reassured their despondent family and friends. His health rallied a bit when Leila became pregnant though his declining health became evident soon after small Nathan’s birth.
“Leila, I’ve been a lucky man - finding your father, then finding you - so lucky…” Harold whispered.
“Papa, please - save your strength,” cried Leila, clutching Harold’s free hand.
“No, my sweet girl - I’ve got to go. John is waiting for me. Just remember, seal the box I’ve given you and bury it in the temple. You must!”
He was referring to a small box made out of gold. Harold had filled the inside with the tiny statues he’d carved over the years, starting with the figure of Nathan. With several scrolls, filled with text and with technical drawings, they’d filled the box - tiny replicas of both family and enemies - Lionel, Joss, Root and Nix, next to one another in seeming harmony.
Leila promised, once more, before Harold took his final breath, knowing that his job, for now, was over.
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Harold blinked, the dark of the bedroom suddenly a vision of bright white.
“Slowly, Harold. I’ve got you,” said the soft, smoky voice at his elbow. The mattress under Harold shifted as he was helped into a sitting position, his body easily making the transition as his mind continued to spin.
“J…John?” he asked, twisting his neck with unaccustomed ease. There, sitting beside him, was John.
John.
It was John, wearing something extraordinary - black and smooth, covering his arms and legs, with something (a shirt?) the color of lavender on his torso, a v of warm, tan skin peeping below his throat.
The cool room suddenly seemed to grow warmer, everything grew warmer as Harold and John embraced.
“I’ve missed you, so much,” they said, together, words tumbling out between wrenching kisses. As he stripped the clothing off of John (‘It’s something I’ll wear one day - I like it!’ he explained) Harold realized that his nude body had been restored to the condition it had been in his early thirties, better perhaps, he realized as he easily manipulated John beneath him.
Wherever they were now, Harold quickly realized the act of love hadn’t changed. They’d done it the morning of John’s death - slowly, haltingly because of all their aches and stiffness - all of that gone, now. He laughing allowed John to flip over, back on top, his legs again able to hook onto those broad shoulders as John’s fine, talented fingers opened him. There is no need for lubricants in what he assumed was the afterlife, Harold discovered, as John eagerly slid inside of him, filling him, the old cadence rediscovered. Effectively bent in two, Harold was kissing John when the sensations overwhelmed him, setting of a sequence of moves that brought John to orgasm, as well. Slick and sweating, they fell against the formerly pristine sheets, panting and kissing.
Blushing, Harold brushed the tumble of damp hair off of John’s forehead, as unsuccessful as ever at taming the cowlick he found there. “I was hoping we’d be able to do that again,” he admitted.
“It’s going to be a while before we start our new lives, so we’ll have plenty of time to get reacquainted,” flirted John, stroking Harold’s soft, white thigh.
Harold froze, suddenly remembering what had just transpired before this remarkable turn of events.
“Leila?”
It was John’s turn to blink away a tear. “She’ll be fine, Harold. I’ve been watching over her and now we can both do it. She’s got her family - and we’ll always be part of it. But,” John hesitated, “I do miss our sweet girl.”
“But in time, John, we’ll have her back, won’t we?” asked Harold, tremulously.
“Always, my dove - always,” whispered John, his head finding comfort against Harold’s soft, furry chest.
“But how many lifetimes? When will we get it right?”
“Dozens? I don’t know, Harold. And we have gotten it right, we did do what was needed to be done. There will be more cycles of us fighting Root and Snow and others, until you are finally able to build your Machine. After that, I think, we’ll be able to rest.”
“Together?” sniffed Harold.
“Always,” reassured John, who suddenly moved from the bed, sorting through a basket of clothes. “Here, try these on! I think you’ll like it.”
Words flowed into Harold’s mind as he took the proffered garments - silk boxers, a fine wool suit, waistcoat and tie and… a colorful, matching pocket square. “I think I agree, Mr. Reese,” he said with a sudden grin. “But why get dressed? Can’t we just…?” he asked, rubbing from his nude belly to his newly stiffening cock.
John grinned back. “Lazybones! We’ve got people to visit. We aren’t alone here, you know.&rdquo
There was a sudden knock at the door.
“Come on in,” John shouted, almost laughing. A tall handsome blond wearing a gorgeous dark suit entered the room. It wasn’t until the man looked up and smiled that Harold recognized him.
“Nathan!” Harold cried, unable to move. Nathan met them on the wide, comfortable bed, pulling Harold onto his lap as they frantically kissed and cried, until Harold pulled away, shaking.
“Oh, John…I’m so sorry!”
John laughed, slinging an arm over Nathan’s shoulder before tugging off the blond’s suit coat. “There’s only love here, Harold - not envy or jealousy. I’ve spent the last few years getting to know your Nathan, though we agreed to wait until you got here before, um, getting to know each other even better.”
Laughing, Harold daintily re-folded the clothing, putting it away. “Well, there’s no need to get dressed then, is there?” he asked, kissing John.
Author: kmmerc
Pairing: Finch/Reese
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 5,600
I had deleted the most recent chapters - sorry! Here are chapters 22 through the epilogue. I hope they will be enjoyed. Thanks to everyone who came along for this amazing journey! Love you!
Chapter 22
Harold’s mind spun, grasping bits of his and John’s past and future lives as they hurried towards the ship’s cabin for their reunion. He suddenly wished he was wearing a pair of boxer briefs, something he’d wear often, one day. Harold wished he had such a futuristic garment, anything really, to help control his raging cock which leaked and pressed against his fine wool chiton in a manner most unbecoming.
John moved to light the lamp but Harold stopped him. “No, in the dark, at f…first,” Harold stammered.
The door closed, the room was dark but Harold could still see John slipping off the bit of cloth from around his waist, the taller man’s erection stretching out before him. John sat down on the bed, spreading his legs and patting the space between them for Harold to sit. Pulling off his chiton, his face flushed (he hoped it was too dark for John to see that), Harold sat down on the bed and scooted back until his body was flush with his long-awaited lover.
John’s arms surrounded the smaller man, caressing his chest and stomach. “Oh, Harold - your tummy is gone!” he said with a groan, tracing Harold’s sternum and ribs. “When we get to Will’s estate I’m going to have to fatten you up.&rdquo
“Mhhhmm,” was the only sound that Harold could make - John’s lips had found the side of his neck and the soft kisses, interspersed with harder and harder nips, made him dizzy with lust. John’s hands continued to pet him, sliding up and down his sides and tracing the muscles and soft skin of Harold’s arms and back. Harold could feel John’s need pressing against his buttocks and made a special effort to wiggle against the hot, hard presence. He smiled and began to relax as he listened to John’s pleased grunts and felt the early essence of John’s pleasures painting a swatch across the small of his back
“John - I’m an idiot. I could have been feeling this - sharing this with you days ago.”
“No, Harold - not an idiot, just human,” admonished John. “And besides, you are worth the wait,” he said before nipping at Harold’s ear. John finally reached down and found what he was after between Harold’s legs
“I see part of you is still nice and fat,” John moaned appreciatively, gently tracing his loose grip from base to tip.
“John!!” cried Harold, arching his back, every bit of him concentrating on the feeling of John’s hand. He lifted his hips and John slipped his hard cock underneath - sliding along Harold’s cheeks and the warm, soft skin below his sack. Harold clenched and writhed, stimulating John’s steely length as he, himself, was pleasured.
John picked up speed and stroked the gasping man on his lap, biting down on his shoulder as Harold shuddered, sending thick stripes of white onto his furry stomach. John nearly lifted them both off the bed as he followed, coming hard against Harold’s soft bottom.
“That was worth the wait,” Harold murmured, collapsing onto his side. John nodded against Harold’s neck. “I couldn’t agree more,” he said, happily spooning against his love, falling asleep.
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Harold woke up John, moving out of the bed to light the lamp. He shared a shy smile with the tall, dark man who had almost become a stranger.
“You’re so beautiful, John,” he whispered, tracing a loving hand along John’s back. Moaning with contentment, the warrior slid onto his belly, Harold’s hand following downward to John’s delicious ass. John spread his legs and Harold slid his hand between them, finding the edge of the heavy scar John had received from Nix.
“John, I’m so sorry…” Harold couldn’t continue speaking, his hand conveying his thoughts as he massaged the newly healed tissue. John stifled a moan and asked, “Did you notice my limp?”
“No, you…you looked fine - though I was a bit distracted.”
“It isn’t bad, really -just enough to keep me out of the Arena. I can’t compete professionally anymore. You’ll have to find some other kind of work for me, if you don’t want to sell me, that is.”
Harold cupped John’s sex and leaned in to give John’s closest nipple a lingering kiss. “I should have done this formally, months ago - you are a free man, John. I’ll be happy to have you, and if you chose to stay, I’ll make sure you become a citizen.”
“A citizen?” asked John.
“Only citizens can legally marry,” whispered Harold, suddenly looking bashful again.
“Can two men really marry? If not, perhaps you can appointment me as your concubine,” smiled John, trying, unsuccessfully, to wink.
“Emperor Nero set the precedent - he married men three times,” replied Harold, his finger brushing against John’s opening. “I’m sure I can bribe a Senator or two, if there are any problems.”
“Then I’ll gladly be your wife,” whimpered John, pressing against Harold’s invading finger. “In fact, I’m ready for you, if you want me.”
Chapter 23
Harold had never penetrated anyone, not even Nathan, who’d been his lover for so many years. “He was a traditional Roman male,” explained Harold as he prepared John’s entrance. “He always had to be on top - never even suckled me,” Harold sighed
John looked up, his eyes wide with lust. “But, think of everything he missed! Harold - once we’re married, I hope you don’t follow his traditions, for I surely want you mouthing me. And if I couldn’t fuck you…”
Laughing, Harold placed a soft, blowing kiss on the small of John’s back. “Fear not, my love. I may be a Roman now but I was born in Brittania and we are a lusty people. Going without your cock, in any way, would be like renouncing salt or wine - unimaginable.” As if to emphasize his point, Harold rolled John onto his side and kissed the gladiator’s slick, musky cock while adding another finger to his thrusting hand
“Yes!! Nghhh!” cried John as Harold’s questing fingers brushed against his prostate. “Please, take me!”
Harold started to tremble, afraid that he wouldn’t be able to do it - that he’d leave his newly returned lover wanting. John, sensing his fears, drew his knees beneath him so that his slick entrance was perfectly situated for Harold to penetrate. “Don’t worry, Harold - we’ve waited so long for this and you can never disappoint me.”
Heartened, Harold stroked John’s hips, counting the silver and red stripes on John’s back as he took a deep breath and pressed the head of his cock against John. He added some more oil and, his cock in hand, circled John’s ring of muscles, slowly pressing until it was inside. They rested like that, for a moment, savoring the new sensation - a portent of the ecstasies they knew they’d spend the rest of their lives sharing. Finally, John groaned, pushing against Harold, taking in more of his cock. Harold bit his lip to keep from coming; successful, he started thrusting his hips, moving deeper until he realized that his sack was brushing against John. With each successive thrust, John bore down on him, squeezing his cock with his internal muscles. Despite the overwhelming sensations assailing him, Harold was somehow able to connect John’s delighted howls with thrusts of a particular angle and began deliberately aiming to please his lover. John came first, his body wrenching Harold’s cock with such force that Harold could only follow, his hot fluids flooding John’s insides. Sweating and exhausted, he collapsed upon John, their mating complete.
They were almost asleep when a loud wail assaulted their ears; Leila. John stood up first, murmuring , “I’ll get her.&rdquo
Harold stood up, stiffly, and remade the bed, wiping himself carefully off with the blanket on which they’d just made love. He perched on the edge of the bed, waiting for his family.
“Lionel fed and changed her but she was still upset,” said John, slipping the red-faced infant into Harold’s arms. She quieted instantly, her head nodding against her father’s chest as she stared intently at John, reaching out her hand to grasp his finger. Sliding her back to John, Harold lay down, his back against the wall so there was enough room for Leila between them. John curled up next to them, drawing another blanket over their bodies and they fell asleep.
Chapter 24
The ship landed safely at the docks built on the harbor adjoining Will’s land - an anti-climactic ending to a voyage fraught with pain and risk. Lionel stayed aboard, anxious to return to Joss and Rollie, helping the men unload their belongings before the ship continued on its route to Rome. Harold carried Leila, followed by the goats. One in particular, whom he’d named Clementine, followed closely at his heels. Though the smallest, she was the boss of the three nannies and the others went wherever she (and Harold) led them. Bear, in turn, heeled at John’s side. Although extremely fond of Harold and Leila, all agreed that he was John’s dog now.
The first week was nothing but sleeping, eating and tending to Leila, punctuated by long, leisurely bouts of lovemaking when they could find someone to watch the little darling, who was growing larger and more inquisitive every day. Harold swore that Leila was a genius and that she was already saying ‘papa’ for both him and John. John kept his doubts to himself, preferring to just enjoy the baby’s happy patter
Though both men toured the small, bustling town, both men soon found reasons to stay within the confines of Will’s personal estate
Harold disliked being the object of so many people’s affection - over half the townsfolk were living there because he had saved them from starvation, unjust legal penalties, personal threat and cruel slave owners. He breathed a sigh of relief when they began showing their gratitude by showering Leila with simple and necessary gifts of diapers, simple toys and clothing.
John’s interaction with many of the villagers was a bit more problematic. Harold had never gotten around to giving John a haircut. Now the dark and silver hair reached John’s shoulders and he’d grown a beard, as well. Harold enjoyed complaining about the facial hair, secretly enjoying the way is tickled the inside of his thighs when John was being attentive. John’s troubles began after he ran into the group of Christians who’d been in the Arena with him on the day Harold had found him. John had refused to attack the elderly men, women and children and had paid the price - being knocked unconscious and left for dead. John watched as the group whispered and pointed discretely at him from a distance. Soon he was followed everywhere by the reverent group, who stared expectantly at him, as if he were to make some profound pronouncement. Will made some discrete inquiries and soon had an explanation: the Christian villagers believed John was Jesus Christ, returned.
“What?” gasped John, carefully patting Harold’s back after the older man spat out his mouthful of wine. “What did you say to them, John, to give them that idea?” asked the bewildered genius.
“I don’t recall, exactly. It was just before a major injury to my head, after all. I remember saying ‘Peace be with you’ and then something about rising again to save them. OH!” John took a deep swig of wine and looked embarrassed while Will and Harold bit their tongues to keep from laughing, grateful that the acerbic Lionel was not with them. John made it a point, after that, to keep his trips in public brief.
Harold, did, however make several brief trips around the local side, refusing to share any details with John. “All in due time, my beloved,” he answered when John asked of his doings.
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“John, will you really marry me?” asked Harold, his lower lip trembling as he gently covered the larger man’s hand.
“I promised, remember?” asked John, suddenly worrying that Harold had changed his mind, that is until he watched Harold practically wilt with relief, sliding onto John’s lap with a crooked smile.
“Then we have some business to take care of, a matter of your dowry.”
John suddenly looked dejected. “Harold, the only thing I own is my sword, which you gave me, and my dog, which belongs to you as well. All I have is my love for you… and my body.”
“That should be enough, shouldn’t it, my pet,” assured Harold, petting down John’s chest until he reached the crux of John’s legs, pausing to give John’s ample cock a gentle squeeze. “But we’re Romans now. And does it really matter if your belongings were mine, first? You come to the marriage an independent man of wealth, I assure you.”
Harold reached into a leather satchel at his side, pulling out a pile of scrolls. “First, here is a deed to forty acres adjoining our estate in Rome. It’s undeveloped but I’m sure you’ll find some use for it. I’m also giving you the ownership of Crazy Harold’s Dildo Emporium. Trask will continue to manage it for you - it will be been a very steady source of income for you, I’m sure. I’ve also deposited 500,000 denarii in an account at the Argentarius Roma - the central banking house of Rome.
ut first, I have something for you.” Harold shyly held pressed a tiny, silk pouch into John’s hand. “Open it,” he encouraged, his smile widening to a grin.
John undid the knot and fished his finger into the pouch, pulling out a two simple gold bands. “Women traditionally receive an iron band when they accept a marriage proposal. I wanted something more permanent. And,” he admitted, “I wanted one, too!”
John slipped the ring onto Harold’s finger and allowed Harold to return the favor, pleased that his band fit his finger perfectly. “I love you, Harold,” John whispered, burying his face against the top of Harold’s head, inhaling his warm scent.
“And I love you, John. But, one more question - do you love horses?”
“Horses?” asked John, rolling his eyes. “Well, mi amore, you are hung like a horse…”
Harold laughed. “No, actual horses - you know four legs, hairy tail, big eyes…”
Smiling back, John nodded. “I love horses - I used to take care of Brutus, my family’s plow horse. He was a tired old thing but he was full of heart. But Harold, why?”
“Come with me,” was all that Harold would say as he lured John out into the garden behind Will’s villa. There, being watched by Will, were four horses, a gelding and three mares. Two of the mares were bay, the other chestnut - all three with soft, gentle eyes and finely sculpted limbs. Though gentle rounded, they showed promise for outstanding speed and agility. The gelding was another matter - tall and almost raw-boned, the dapple grey’s eyes burned with intelligence and curiosity, already approaching the former gladiator for food and scratches.
“The mares are the finest that I could purchase from Artemis, the master horseman of the region. All three are in foal - we should be having babies in the spring. The gelding is for riding - he was the warhorse of Artemis’s son, who died last year. Artemis said that the horse has been fretting, losing ground - it needs someone to love.”
John reached out a hand, finding an itchy spot behind the grey’s ear. The horse leaned into the scratch, sighing happily.
“What’s his name?” John asked, faintly.
“Jacopo.”
Turning from Jacopo, John smiled. “Are they really for me?”
“If they suit you,” countered Harold, trying to hide his happiness that his gifts were well received.
“They suit me almost as much as you do,” laughed John, sweeping his fiancé into thorough kiss.
Chapter 25
Well rested, the small family, with its latest additions, slowly made their way back to Rome as the seasons changed - from summer to fall. Will came with them, not only to help but to lend assistance in the planning of John and Harold’s wedding.
“You know, Will, your father will always be in my heart - I’ll never stop loving him,” assured Harold, almost more to himself than for Will’s sake.
“I know, Harold. But if my father isn’t here, John is…well, after Father died, I worried that you’d never be happy again. John makes you happy - I couldn’t ask for someone better for you,” replied Will, hugging Harold tight.
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There was another surprise to greet them upon their return. Joss greeted them with Rollie in her arms and when she put down the rambunctious toddler, it was apparent to all despite her loosely fitting garment that the strong blacksmith was with child.
“My Dear,” gasped Harold, laughing and wiping away a stray tear as he folded his arms around her. John scooped up Rollie and bent down and kissed the top of Joss’s head, before smothering the small boy with smooches
“Congratulations, Joss,” John grinned.
“Well, thank you. You know, it’s your fault, really,” laughed Joss, smoothing her robe over her rounded belly. “In fact, Lionel and I are thinking of naming this one John, it’s a boy.”
“My fault?” squeaked John. “Oh? Oh! I guess it might be. Harold’s fault, too,” he laughed, remembering all the times their lovemaking seemed to inspire Joss and Lionel.
They were all laughing when Will walked in, carrying Leila.
“There’s the little angel!” cried Joss, reaching out to stroke the baby’s hair. “I’ve heard so much about you, you darling! It will be so nice to have another woman in the house!” Will slid the baby into her arms, ignoring Rollie’s jealous wails. “He’s going to have to get used to it, sooner or later,” Lionel laughed, picking up his son. Rollie, the king of the household, was only placated when Lionel placed him upon Jacopo’s saddle, holding him steady as John led them slowly around the villa.
The next month was filled with activity - not only were the wedding plans filling their hours but several more innocents were rescued after Harold returned to the Temple to receive further instructions from the mysterious fumes. John and Harold promised each other that with Leila their responsibility, family now came first but all attempts would be made to continue their quest to rescue those whose lives were imperiled. Fortunately, most of their work, in this regard, boiled down to some minor blackmail and timely pay-offs that Harold could easily afford. John, though, kept his blade sharp in readiness.
That being said, the former Gladiator now spent a good portion of his day down at the Emporium.
“I never knew there was so much to be learned about dildos!” John exclaimed to a laughing Trask, who assured him that he’d know the ins and outs of the dildo trade in a few weeks’ time. When he wasn’t doing inventory or picking up shipments from the docks, John lovingly re-touched the fresco on the outside of the shop, making Harold’s likeness shine anew
“You really need to come down and see it, Harold - I really captured you,” John cajoled, pointedly squeezing Harold’s erection.
“I seem to have better things to do,” said Harold, stiffly, moaning as John sucked down upon him.
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The evening finally arrived and so had so many of Harold and John’s friends, new and old. Even the secretive Elias showed up, bringing a lovely water-clock for the happy pair. Leila, dressed in a diaphanous pink dress, sat in Joss’s arms as Tailor, who designed the wedding outfits, kept careful watch over his active little brother. Darren stationed himself near the front entrance - they didn’t expect any trouble from Root or any other adversary but all felt a sense of relief when the intelligent young man volunteered to keep watch.
The sun went down and the candles were lit: the ceremony was beginning.
John slowly entered the atrium, flanked by Lionel, his attendant. John wore a variation on the standard toga - a rich garment that matched the transparent, flame colored veil that covered his head, topped with flowers he’d gathered that morning and woven into a wreath. The goats, Leila and Bear had not made this an easy task yet John prevailed, determined to make the most beautiful ‘bride’ for his beloved.
The gown clung to his every curve, terminating just above his knees and draping over his right shoulder, affixed by a beautiful gold pin in the shape of a finch, leaving most of his chest and left shoulder bare. A silken rope cinched his waist - it was of traditional style worn by bride and tied with ‘the knot of Hercules’ - an intricate knot that Harold would have to tease open before consummating the marriage. After much discussion, both decided to wear simply white loincloths underneath their outfits - a symbol of purity, Harold argued. John, with Lionel and Joss, laughed at the mere thought but in the end, John couldn’t deny his lover.
Lionel and Will carried sheathes of wheat wrapped in matching scarlet ribbons - for virility in the marriage, for fertility was not an issue between the two men! John carried his katana, also beribboned, rather than the spindle women usually bore at such times - evidence of his desire to serve and protect Harold.
Neither had seen the other’s wedding garb and as John’s eyes adjusted to the light of the room he gasped - Harold was clothed in a simple, finely cut toga of deep purple. No one amongst the assembled guests had seen an entire garment of the rarest of colors - not even on the Emperor himself. Harold grinned and blushed, pleased with the stunned, rapturous look on John’s face.
Harold waited for John next to the altar, a waist-high table bearing a statue of Jupiter. Alicia, a Vestal Virgin was the happy officiant of ceremony - she and Harold were friends of old and she’d comforted him after Nathan’s untimely death. Smiling, she nodded towards the trio at the atrium’s entrance, inviting them to the altar. They both sat down on their chairs and trembling, John reached across the altar and clasped hands with a beaming Harold.
Alicia welcomed the happy couple and their witnesses, then signaled Harold and John to recite their vows.
“Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaius ("as you are Gaius, I am Gaius")” vowed John, squeezing Harold’s hands tightly to prevent both men from fainting before the crowd of family and well-wishers. A tear slipped down Harold’s cheek as he whispered “Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaius.&rdquo
Harold felt a nudge at his side. Will grinned, handing his father a large platter on which rested an elaborate cake covered with fruit and honey. Harold handed it to Alicia who offered it to Jupiter, asking the god to grant John and Harold a long and happy marriage. She handed Harold a knife with which to cut a small piece of the cake. Harold leaned over and lifted John’s veil, taking a sliver of the cake and pressed it to his lips. John took the morsel, not bothering to mask the fact that his tongue captured the beads of honey dripping from his husband’s fingers. He swallowed and took the knife, cutting a piece for Harold, who took it daintily, blushing all the while. With that, they were married, though John stood up, pulling Harold to his feet. Their lips met as they leaned over the altar, tenderly sealing their intertwined fates, as they had in the past and would again, in future lives. What the Gods have joined together, let no one put asunder.
Chapter 26
Their kiss, finally broken, was the signal for their company to shout and cheer the happy couple. Walnuts were thrown at them as they joyfully received fervent congratulations, making their way to the nearby bridal chamber, separated from the others by only a thin muslin screen. John hovered over Harold, protectively, easily batting away the flying nuts, catching several and aiming them back at Darren, Taylor and Fusco, who eagerly embraced this ancient tradition ensuring virile husbands.
“I can’t believe it, John - you’re finally mine,” sighed Harold, helping John remove his flammeum, the beautiful red veil. He continued, gently removing the golden finch pinned to the draped fabric on John’s shoulders, baring John’s beautifully muscled chest. John took Harold’s hands, guiding him to the elaborate knot now dangling between John’s firm thighs. “You need to take of this, first, darling,” John whispered over the noisy guests, who had begun to sing ribald songs to honor (and encourage) the newly married couple.
There was no finer, more nimble set of fingers than Harold’s but even John became impatient as his husband slowly worked the thick, intricate knot while almost absent-mindedly stroking and caressing John into a lather.
“Take my katana, Harold - cut it, please! I can’t wait much longer for you!”
“There, there,” spoke the older man, brushing the left edge of John’s white loincloth aside, dabbing his tongue against the salty-sweet dampness he found there. “Good things come to those who wait,” he added, dipping an oiled finger along John’s crack, nudging gently against the puckered ring of muscles he found there. John began groaning loudly enough for the guests to take notice and cheer and Harold quickened his pace, pulling apart the tangled silk cord until it finally lay coiled around John’s sweating torso. He wasn’t given any time to think, after that - John surged up, pulling Harold on top of him and began kissing and biting the smaller man.
“Harold!” John cried, spreading his legs further to aid in the necessary preparations
“On your knees,” Harold ordered, thickly. He took John’s forearms, winding the red cord tightly around them. There was no need to tie it - Harold knew he had every bit of John’s cooperation. Running his hand along John’s back and steadying against his hips, Harold slipped behind him.
“You are so beautiful, John!” he cried, pressing himself inside John’s heat. Now Harold was the one making the loudest sounds, the pair forming a throaty duet of rising lust, reaching a crescendo as together they peaked.
Exhausted, Harold withdrew and slid along John’s side, removing the cord and rubbing the red lines from John’s arms. The success of their lovemaking was an auspicious sign, one promising a lifetime of passion and fidelity
John and Harold re-dressed, in simple chitons, this time, listening as the party grew louder -their friends and family chanted their names, calling them to re-join the party. A trio of musicians began to play as the newlyweds returned. John and Harold danced, with Lionel and with Will, with a very pregnant Joss and with a very bubbly Rollie
But mostly they danced together, along with Leila; retiring to bed when she fell asleep, cradled against John’s shoulder as the music wound down for the night.
Fin
Epilogue
Leila hurried to put the baby into his basket before hurrying to the bed. Her father, so thin now, barely made an impression under the heavy blanket covering him, despite the summer warmth.
“Nathan?” Harold asked, his voice barely over a whisper.
“Yes, Papa, that was Nathan - I’m sorry he woke you.” She knew the baby would continue to sleep, tucked in the basket he napped in but Leila suddenly changed her mind, lifting the infant and tucking him against Harold’s side
“He looks just like his name-sake,” Harold said, managing a ghost of a smile as he gently stroked the baby’s wheat colored hair. I wish Nathan and John could have seen him…”
Almost out of energy, Harold’s voice tapered off as Leila dabbed her eyes. It was thirty five years since she’s been adopted by her two fathers. She’d married at age thirty, rather later than most. She’d chosen Jesse, the son of Will and Lily, who’d met at her fathers’ wedding. John died, suddenly two years after, a surprise considering Harold was the older of the pair and looked considerably frailer. They’d found John, asleep under the arbor overlooking the pasture full of that year’s crop of colts and fillies, a faint smile remaining, still.
Harold took John’s death with surprising ease - ‘I’ll see my darling soon enough,’ he reassured their despondent family and friends. His health rallied a bit when Leila became pregnant though his declining health became evident soon after small Nathan’s birth.
“Leila, I’ve been a lucky man - finding your father, then finding you - so lucky…” Harold whispered.
“Papa, please - save your strength,” cried Leila, clutching Harold’s free hand.
“No, my sweet girl - I’ve got to go. John is waiting for me. Just remember, seal the box I’ve given you and bury it in the temple. You must!”
He was referring to a small box made out of gold. Harold had filled the inside with the tiny statues he’d carved over the years, starting with the figure of Nathan. With several scrolls, filled with text and with technical drawings, they’d filled the box - tiny replicas of both family and enemies - Lionel, Joss, Root and Nix, next to one another in seeming harmony.
Leila promised, once more, before Harold took his final breath, knowing that his job, for now, was over.
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Harold blinked, the dark of the bedroom suddenly a vision of bright white.
“Slowly, Harold. I’ve got you,” said the soft, smoky voice at his elbow. The mattress under Harold shifted as he was helped into a sitting position, his body easily making the transition as his mind continued to spin.
“J…John?” he asked, twisting his neck with unaccustomed ease. There, sitting beside him, was John.
John.
It was John, wearing something extraordinary - black and smooth, covering his arms and legs, with something (a shirt?) the color of lavender on his torso, a v of warm, tan skin peeping below his throat.
The cool room suddenly seemed to grow warmer, everything grew warmer as Harold and John embraced.
“I’ve missed you, so much,” they said, together, words tumbling out between wrenching kisses. As he stripped the clothing off of John (‘It’s something I’ll wear one day - I like it!’ he explained) Harold realized that his nude body had been restored to the condition it had been in his early thirties, better perhaps, he realized as he easily manipulated John beneath him.
Wherever they were now, Harold quickly realized the act of love hadn’t changed. They’d done it the morning of John’s death - slowly, haltingly because of all their aches and stiffness - all of that gone, now. He laughing allowed John to flip over, back on top, his legs again able to hook onto those broad shoulders as John’s fine, talented fingers opened him. There is no need for lubricants in what he assumed was the afterlife, Harold discovered, as John eagerly slid inside of him, filling him, the old cadence rediscovered. Effectively bent in two, Harold was kissing John when the sensations overwhelmed him, setting of a sequence of moves that brought John to orgasm, as well. Slick and sweating, they fell against the formerly pristine sheets, panting and kissing.
Blushing, Harold brushed the tumble of damp hair off of John’s forehead, as unsuccessful as ever at taming the cowlick he found there. “I was hoping we’d be able to do that again,” he admitted.
“It’s going to be a while before we start our new lives, so we’ll have plenty of time to get reacquainted,” flirted John, stroking Harold’s soft, white thigh.
Harold froze, suddenly remembering what had just transpired before this remarkable turn of events.
“Leila?”
It was John’s turn to blink away a tear. “She’ll be fine, Harold. I’ve been watching over her and now we can both do it. She’s got her family - and we’ll always be part of it. But,” John hesitated, “I do miss our sweet girl.”
“But in time, John, we’ll have her back, won’t we?” asked Harold, tremulously.
“Always, my dove - always,” whispered John, his head finding comfort against Harold’s soft, furry chest.
“But how many lifetimes? When will we get it right?”
“Dozens? I don’t know, Harold. And we have gotten it right, we did do what was needed to be done. There will be more cycles of us fighting Root and Snow and others, until you are finally able to build your Machine. After that, I think, we’ll be able to rest.”
“Together?” sniffed Harold.
“Always,” reassured John, who suddenly moved from the bed, sorting through a basket of clothes. “Here, try these on! I think you’ll like it.”
Words flowed into Harold’s mind as he took the proffered garments - silk boxers, a fine wool suit, waistcoat and tie and… a colorful, matching pocket square. “I think I agree, Mr. Reese,” he said with a sudden grin. “But why get dressed? Can’t we just…?” he asked, rubbing from his nude belly to his newly stiffening cock.
John grinned back. “Lazybones! We’ve got people to visit. We aren’t alone here, you know.&rdquo
There was a sudden knock at the door.
“Come on in,” John shouted, almost laughing. A tall handsome blond wearing a gorgeous dark suit entered the room. It wasn’t until the man looked up and smiled that Harold recognized him.
“Nathan!” Harold cried, unable to move. Nathan met them on the wide, comfortable bed, pulling Harold onto his lap as they frantically kissed and cried, until Harold pulled away, shaking.
“Oh, John…I’m so sorry!”
John laughed, slinging an arm over Nathan’s shoulder before tugging off the blond’s suit coat. “There’s only love here, Harold - not envy or jealousy. I’ve spent the last few years getting to know your Nathan, though we agreed to wait until you got here before, um, getting to know each other even better.”
Laughing, Harold daintily re-folded the clothing, putting it away. “Well, there’s no need to get dressed then, is there?” he asked, kissing John.