Title: “Bagoas Meets the Greeks - Part 4

Author: Ayden

Email-Address: AydenSadari@aol.com

Category: Romance, angst, slash

Pairings: Hephaistion/Bagoas

Date: Last revised Feb 20, 2007

Feedback: Yes

Rating: NC17 (explicit sex)

Disclaimer: The characters aren’t really mine – they just live in my head… This is a work of a fan, done for no remuneration save the satisfaction of the work.

Summary: Hephaistion has been on a mission; Bagoas and Alexander had their first sexual encounter; Hephaistion returns.

~~begin

Alexander and Bagoas had slept the entire night wrapped in each other’s arms.

~~

It was this sight that greeted Hephaistion the next day as he entered the king’s chambers just as dawn was breaking. He refrained from his first impulse – to pull the boy from Alexander’s arms and throw him on the floor. He had, after all, given this gift to Alexander. And intended to use it himself, he thought with a smile. He started to undress, and his belt fell to the floor – most unlike Hephaistion’s usual cat-like silence – and they both awoke. As soon as Alexander realized who it was, he smiled broadly at his friend, but Bagoas was frightened and moved quickly to leave the bed.

Hephaistion reached out and grabbed his arm. “No, no, my pretty,” he said. “You must warm us both.” Then he pushed Bagoas back in the bed next to Alexander and moved to position himself on Bagoas’ other side.

As sleepy as he was, Alexander realized Bagoas’ distress. “Let him go, Hephaistion,” he said softly. “He’s had a long night.” Hephaistion moved to let the boy by, then quickly turned to Alexander and laughed. “About time,” he joked. “Did you have to wait until I was gone?”

Alexander pulled himself up in the bed. “I suppose I did,” he said quietly. “Bagoas, fetch us breakfast, please.”

“Please? He must have been impressive.”

Alexander immediately signed to Hephaistion to be quiet. Bagoas pulled on his trousers and left the chamber.

When he heard the door to the great room close, Alexander smiled at Hephaistion and embraced him.

“So?” Hephaistion laughed. “Tell me all about it.”

“He’s very sweet, Hephaistion. Stop making faces!” Hephaistion had been making slurping motions with his mouth. They both laughed.

“Go on, Alexander. Tell me. I’ll be good.”

“He’s sweet. He’s tender and gentle. And very talented,” Alexander grinned.

“More, more!”

“That’s enough. He’s as skilled as we’ve heard. Now, tell me about what happened with you.”

Hephaistion sighed loudly and pretended to pout, but when he realized Alexander would not relent, he began to tell him about his day. The band of Persian soldiers had insisted Darius was dead, that they had killed him. However, they had neither the body nor any other proof. Hephaistion refused to give out the reward, and supposedly, the Persians were on their way to the palace to deal directly with the king.

“I was afraid this is what it would come to.” Alexander said. “Groups of people, with no proof, insisting they killed him. You did tell them I want Darius alive?”

“Of course.”

“I’m tired, Hephaistion. And you must be, too. Can you sleep with me for a while?” Hephaistion embraced him in reply, only slightly annoyed that he smelled of the Persian eunuch.

When Bagoas returned with the tray, he found them both asleep. He placed the tray on the cabinet in the great room, then turned to his own small pallet in the corner. He lay down, but didn’t sleep, waiting for them to awaken. He was hurt beyond all reason. He knew Hephaistion was Alexander’s beloved. He knew it. He felt himself very foolish. Alexander had promised him nothing. He curled himself into a ball and cried quietly. The unbidden thought kept flooding his mind. I want King Alskander to love me. But he allowed himself this weakness only a few minutes. He was a pleasure slave. He had no right to expect anything because he did his duty. If he had been pleasured in return, it changed nothing. Still, he blinked back a few more tears. His need for love was strong. As hard as he pushed against the need, it wouldn’t go away.

When Alexander and Hephaistion rose later, Bagoas went to help them dress. Alexander put on a great show of sniffing his friend, said he smelled like his horse, and told him to take a bath. Hephaistion laughed, sniffed himself, and reluctantly agreed. “May I borrow your pretty slave, Alexander?” he asked. Alexander looked at Bagoas, who had already flushed and lowered his head, but not before Alexander saw the signs of his crying. He was torn – should he deny his devoted friend and protect the boy? No, of course not. Hephaistion was his primary concern. He instructed quietly, “Be gentle with him, Hephaistion.” He saw from Hephaistion’s eyes that his concern had registered. “I’ll find you when I get back”. He took a few pieces of fruit from the tray, caught Bagoas’ eyes briefly and smiled as he left.

When Alexander was gone, Hephaistion turned to Bagoas and asked, “Has something happened? Have you been hurt?”

Bagoas looked up quickly. “No, Lord Phaistion – I not hurt.”

“Then why is Alexander telling me to be gentle?” Bagoas dropped his eyes, saying nothing. “Bagoas, I’m sorry I hurt you before. You don’t need to be afraid of me.”

Bagoas looked up again. “I know, Lord Phaistion.” He hesitated briefly before speaking again. “Will Alskander give me others – or only you?” When there was no answer, he added, “King Darius not make me do others.” He knew he had let his emotions get the better of him – and shouldn’t have said that. He looked down, now thoroughly embarrassed.

Hephaistion was surprised. He had not considered that the pretty boy had such feelings. Why would it matter to him who he pleasured? But, of course, Darius had held him in high esteem. Had probably not shared him.

Bagoas interpreted his continued silence as anger, “Lord Phaistion, I sorry, please not be angry. I wish please King Alskander. I wish please you.” He stepped toward Hephaistion, starting to kneel.

But Hephaistion reached down quickly and stopped him. “This is foolish,” he said. “I won’t hurt you.” There was irritation in his voice.

“Yes, Lord Phaistion.” Bagoas nodded, trying hard to accept this. He had no choice.

“You don’t make me feel very welcome. Didn’t Alexander tell you to make me welcome?”

“Yes, Master. My duty make you happy.”

Hephaistion lifted the pretty head, looking into the dark eyes. “How old are you?”

“Fifteen, Master.”

A child, Hephaistion thought. Still, he was old enough to know his duties – and his place. “Come help me with my bath.” He spoke more gently this time.

“Yes, Master.”

Hephaistion headed to the bath chamber, with Bagoas following. The slaves filled the tub quickly with the pots of warm water they had brought earlier. They left, taking the empty pots with them.

Hephaistion removed his loincloth, the only thing he was wearing, and stepped into the tub.

Bagoas felt sure he was not pleasing Hephaistion. Dare I tell him my suspicions?, he wondered. He began not to care if there was a revolt by the Persian lords. He pulled off his shirt and began to pour unscented oils on the sponges.

Hephaistion relaxed into the tub, obviously enjoying the comforts of the warm water. He dipped his head in the water, glad to rinse off the dust of his journey. Then he looked for Bagoas, who was watching him with sponges in his hands. “Well, are you planning to do something with those?” he asked. There was a smile on his face, but Bagoas had dropped his head and didn’t see it.

Bagoas stepped forward, wet the sponges in the tub and began to rub Hephaistion’s shoulders with them. He worked slowly, massaging as he washed, trying to deflect some of the tension he felt. “Lean forward, please, Master.”

Hephaistion was surprised he spoke the words so well. “How did you learn that so quickly?” he asked as he bent forward to expose his back.

Bagoas thought for a moment. “I learn from old master, sir.”

Hephaistion had assumed Bagoas had always belonged to Darius. But, of course, slaves had to come from somewhere. “Who was your old master?”

Bagoas did not want to tell him. Oromedon had cautioned him that the Great King should never know about Datis. He did not want this new king – and all the Greeks – to know he had served as a whore. “I belong jeweler in city.”

“A Greek jeweler?”

“No, Master. He have Greek clients.”

“And you served those clients?”

“Yes, Master.”

“How old were you when you went to him?” He could see Bagoas was uneasy, and a pretty flush sweep his body. There was a story here, he thought.

“I be almost nine.”

“How did you serve those clients?”

“Whatever Master tell me, sir.”

“The truth, Bagoas. What did you do for them?” Hephaistion’s voice was stern, now.

Bagoas hesitated before answering. “I deliver jewelry, sir.” That was true.

“And what else? You would not be blushing so prettily if all you did was deliver jewelry.”

When Bagoas hesitated again, Hephaistion took his arm and twisted it painfully. Bagoas gasped. Hephaistion did not relent – in his mind, this was a simple thing to ask.

“Please, Master, you hurt me.”

“Then tell me the truth.” He twisted the arm more.

“I have sex with them, Master,” Bagoas whispered. “Please, you hurt me.” His arm was released.

Hephaistion thought on what the boy had said as Bagoas washed his back. He felt a certain amount of pity. But it also meant the boy was hardly an innocent.

“Then it shouldn’t bother you to service Alexander and me.”

“Yes, Master.” He washed Hephaistion’s arms. “Others, too?” he asked.

“I think not. Alexander will not want a whore in his bed.”

All Bagoas heard was that Alexander would not want him and whore. He choked back a sob. What would become of him, now? His mind raced to thoughts of Datus. He could not endure being used that way again.

Hephaistion saw the pain on his face – and the tears in his eyes. Perhaps he had gone too far. It was hardly the boy’s fault how his old master had abused him. Nine years old and he had been sent out as a whore.

“That was a long time ago, Bagoas. Why so sad now?”

“You say King Alskander now want me.”

Pity won out. “That’s not what I said. He will not give you to others. He will not make you a whore again.” Hephaistion saw the look of relief on Bagoas’ face. Still, he could not resist. He reached out and pinched the pretty nipple so close to his hand. Bagoas made a small sound. Hephaistion watched his face. It was a sound of pleasure. He smiled.

And lifted his legs to remind the boy of what he should do next. Bagoas poured more oil on the sponges and washed. With just a little hesitation, he moved his hands to Hephaistion’s groin. The man was already hard. He stroked gently and was not rebuked. He continued until Hephaistion turned over and presented his buttocks to the gentle hands. After Bagoas seemed to be done with the washing, Hephaistion spoke again. “Enter me.”

Bagoas looked at him questioningly. “I not understand, Master.”

“With your fingers. Enter me.”

Bagoas had never done this with Darius, had not been asked to do such a thing since he left Datis. Still, he hesitated only a moment and slipped one slender finger into Hephaistion’s opening.

“More,” Hephaistion commanded. “In and out”. Bagoas obeyed and Hephaistion sighed with pleasure. When he tired of these simple ministrations, he turned again, now fully erect. He pulled Bagoas’ head to his own and met his lips. He kissed him gently at first and then more demandingly. His tongue slipped into Bagoas’ mouth. Now, there was welcome. The boy’s tongue played with his own.

Hephaistion did not see the fear in Bagoas’ eyes, did not realize these were learned responses.

Gently, he pulled Bagoas into the tub on top of him. “My clothes, Master...” was the quiet protest. Hephaistion just laughed, opening his thighs and pulling Bagoas between them, holding the boy’s body close to his manhood. He began a pumping action, feeling the friction between them bringing him greater pleasure. He moaned in delight.

Then he pushed Bagoas away and moved the boy’s hands to his erection. He tried to keep his voice light. “Finish, please.”

Bagoas cupped his sac in one hand, gently squeezing, and stroked the erection with the other, being sure his thumb caught the foreskin with each stroke. Then he moved his fingers to the spot behind the sac, as he had learned. He could see Hephaistion’s eyes glaze over and felt the pulsations increase. Hephaistion gasped in pleasure and climaxed. Bagoas felt the warm liquid spilling on his hands through the water, and onto his belly. Then Hephaistion relaxed and pulled Bagoas back onto his chest and kissed his face.

When he stopped, Bagoas asked “Are you pleased, Master?”

“Quite the little beggar, aren’t you?” Bagoas did not understand, though he did see the smile this time. “I need another bath.”

“I need call slaves, Master.”

“Then do it.” When he realized how gruff he sounded, Hephaistion added “please” and helped Bagoas climb from the tub.

Hephaistion relaxed back in the water. Bagoas checked at the rear entrance to the bath chamber first, but no one was there. He wiped himself with a towel and then went to talk to the sentry outside the door of the great room. He tried to find the Greek words as he walked. When he opened the door, the sentry looked at him and grinned. Bagoas followed his eyes to the obvious stain on his trousers and blushed. Without raising his eyes, he told the young sentry, the same one he had seen yesterday, that Lord Hephaistion needed bath slaves to bring more water. When there was no reply, he had to look up. A grin covered the young man’s face. “Lord Phaistion need...”

The sentry cut him off. “I understand. I just wanted to get a better look at you.” Bagoas dropped his head again, saying nothing. “I’m going, pretty one.” And the sentry turned to leave.

Bagoas went back to Hephaistion. He seemed totally relaxed, so Bagoas stood quietly to wait. In just a few minutes, the slaves entered from the back of the bath chamber, carrying pots of warm water. They sat them on the floor and Bagoas hurried to get out of their way, noticing that Hephaistion was watching. The slaves moved to pull the drain plug and let the water in the tub escape to the drainage hole in the floor. When the tub was empty, they poured in just some of the water to rinse out the oils – and the remains of Hephaistion’s ejaculation. Then they asked Bagoas what they should do.

“You want I rinse you or fill tub again, Master?” Bagoas asked.

“Just rinse. As pleasant as this is, I’d rather go back to bed.” Bagoas nodded to the slaves to leave.

The boy did as he was told, and when Hephaistion was satisfied, he stepped out of the tub. Bagoas started to dry him, but he took the towel to do it himself. As he was finishing, Bagoas pointed to the bench. “Sit, please, Master. I do hair.”

Hephaistion sat and Bagoas began to dry his hair. It was longer than Alexander’s and tangled. He picked up the comb and began to gently work out the snarls. Once Hephaistion realized how soft the hands were, he relaxed into them. In just a little time, Bagoas said he was finished. He held the mirror out to Hephaistion, who seemed satisfied. He got up and began to walk back to the apartment – naked. Bagoas wondered if all Greeks were so immodest. When Hephaistion saw him following, he told him to have the sentry get him clean clothes.

Bagoas hated to face the young man again, but there was no choice, and he did as he was told.

When he returned, Hephaistion was already in the bed chamber. The rooms had been cleaned and the bed was made, so Bagoas went to pull back the coverings. Hephaistion slipped in and told the boy to undress. Bagoas pulled off his wet trousers and was motioned into the bed, too.

Bagoas felt himself start to tremble and clenched his teeth to repress it. He was afraid the man intended to use him again. Darius was older – he would never ask for that, but these new men were younger. And stronger. Hephaistion saw the concern and laughed. “Just to rest, Bagoas. Just to rest. For now.”

Bagoas had brought a towel and dried himself before obeying. When he got in the bed, Hephaistion pulled him close and started to stroke his body. Bagoas responded as he had been taught. But it was not difficult, indeed the touches were pleasing. Hephaistion continued with gentle touches and then whispered in Bagoas’ ear that he was sorry. Softly, he tried to explain. “No man is happy to be rebuked. I was angry. I’m sorry. You did everything right.”

Bagoas thought on the words. Hephaistion had said what he needed to hear. And nothing had been as bad as he had feared. He decided quickly. “Lord Phaistion, I need talk.”

“What about?”

“Dangers to Alskander.”

“What?“

“Dangers...”

“I understand that part – what dangers?”

“Some satraps say they loyal, but they not be.”

“And how do you know that?” Hephaistion sounded angry.

Bagoas feared the anger was aimed at him. “I see them in Alskander’s meeting.”

“Did you tell this to Alexander?”

“No, Lord Phaistion. I try...” He fumbled for the word yesterday’, but couldn’t find it. “I mean to, today. But he leave.”

Hephaistion sighed. Not what he wanted to hear. “Name them.”

Bagoas did, though Hephaistion didn’t know who they were. “Are you sure?” There was hesitation before Bagoas said he was not.

“You – someone – need find out, Master.”

Hephaistion considered. The boy might be lying. Everyone had heard rumors of eunuchs trying to build up their own importance by betraying others. He spoke quietly. “It will do you no good, Bagoas, to lie about such things.”

“I know, Lord Phaistion. I not lie.” He said nothing else, holding his feelings close, though Hephaistion noticed he blinked back tears.

This could wait. He knew that and was tempted to stay where he was. But Alexander would want to know such things as soon as possible. He would have to follow him.

“Is there anything else?” Hephaistion asked.

Bagoas spoke so softly that Hephaistion almost couldn’t hear. “I have no place if Alskander not keep me.”

Hephaistion looked at him again. Bagoas was incredibly beautiful, especially with the flush that crossed his face. “I cannot speak for Alexander, Bagoas. If you were mine, I would keep you.” That was a lie, of course. Alexander was the only one he loved. And he had no desire for someone clinging to him. But Alexander was different. He had given his love to a horse and a dog. Why not a eunuch, too?

“Thank you, Master.” But Hephaistion could tell he was not much comforted.

The man got out of bed – not happily – and began to dress. “This is your fault, Bagoas.” Hephaistion said. “I’m supposed to be spending the day in bed with you.”

“I sorry, Master.”

“I’m not angry with you.” Hephaistion thought for some moments, realizing Bagoas did not have to tell him these things. “I’m not angry, just frustrated.” Bagoas did not understand the words, but knew Hephaistion was trying to be comforting.

When Hephaistion was almost ready, he turned to Bagoas to say good-bye. But the boy was standing there naked, his nipples still erect. Hephaistion could not resist and reached out to pinch them. To his surprise, Bagoas moved himself closer. Interesting, he thought, for future encounters. Hephaistion kissed him on the cheek and left.

Bagoas rubbed his nipples to ease the sting – and to push away his thoughts. Then he went to his pallet to sit and think. He grasped his knees, feeling the fear returning. After Hephaistion’s quick departure, he was afraid that if he left the king’s rooms, he would not be permitted to re-enter. He was hungry, he hadn’t eaten in a day now. He glanced at the cabinet. The breakfast tray was gone.

He wondered if he might return to the harem. He would find something to eat there and maybe Osine could work with him on his Greek again; he had a new list of words. He went to the bed chamber and pulled on his wet trousers. Maybe the young sentry would allow him out and in again.

He opened the door cautiously. But there was a new sentry at the door, an older man, who looked him up and down with no recognition. He closed the door quickly.

Removing the wet trousers, he sat again on his pallet. If Alexander or Hephaistion had thought to mention him to the sentry, he knew he would be safe. But the sneer of the older man convinced him he was not.

He got up finally, and started to dance. In the dance, he could forget everything else – and he sought that oblivion now. He spun in circles, slow small ones at first, then larger faster ones. He flexed his body, sinuously moving it to an unheard rhythm. He bent his back until his hands touched the floor and flipped himself gracefully; then he repeated the sequence forward. He continued until the sweat was running down his body and he could no longer catch his breath. He collapsed on the floor in exhaustion.

He was just beginning to breathe normally again, when the doors to the great room burst open and soldiers began to drag in a large table and several chairs. They noticed the naked boy on the floor, of course, and began to taunt him as Alexander’s whore. Bagoas got up as quickly as he could manage and retreated toward the king’s bed chamber. But several of the soldiers stopped him and dragged him back to the center of the room. When the table and chairs were placed, slaves began to bring in papers and writing implements. When the slaves were gone, the men turned their attention to Bagoas – prodding his body and examining his genitals. There were raucous comments and then someone made the suggestion that they all take him. Bagoas fought the hands on him but was powerless against them. His fighting only seemed to incense his captors further. One of them pushed him back to the floor and then two of the men held him with his buttocks in the air, while their leader approached, stripping off his underclothing.

In a last attempt to save himself, Bagoas said as loudly as he could manage “Alskander kill you for this. I under his protection.” He could only hope his words were true. At any rate, they stopped the soldiers, who were unsure of their king’s intentions for the young eunuch. He was, after all, in the king’s chambers and Alexander had brought him there. Mumblings and protests could be heard, but the men thought his words might be true. They dropped him where they had first seen him. The one who seemed to be in charge turned just before leaving through the great doors and said he hoped they would find Bagoas outside these rooms. Bagoas took the words as a warning. He would have no safety elsewhere until the king returned.

Bagoas struggled to his feet when they were all gone. He quickly pulled on his trousers, determined not to willingly be naked again. They were dry by now, though he would not have cared if they were not. He went back to the bath chamber to check on the water supplies. There was not enough for a bath so he sponged himself sparingly. There were no slaves in attendance; the king was out of the palace. There was no one to ask for food. He drank as much water as he dared.

He returned to the main rooms, went back to his pallet and lay down. He couldn’t sleep, but he rested fitfully. Perhaps the man had lied, he thought. He had been safe in the previous days when he left the king’s chambers. Even this morning. But now, both Alexander and Hephaistion were gone. There would be no one to appeal to if he were stopped.

As the sun went down, he arose and lit a few lamps, opening the curtains for the evening breezes. He realized as he returned to the other rooms that Alexander and Hephaestion would not be returning this day. Finally, he resolved to sleep.

When the sun arose the next day, he awoke, dressed himself and closed the curtains, sealing in as much of the coolness as he could. Finally, the household slaves arrived to refresh the king’s chambers and he went to meet them, thinking to ask them for food. They ignored him. Bagoas was still too proud to beg and he left them alone. Until they went to remove his pallet. Then the horrible fear came over him that he was being dismissed. And had no place to go. He took his pallet from them and held it tightly to his chest until they left; then he put it back. He could feel himself beginning to panic and he sat quietly on the pallet, trying to think.

Just that the slaves had been here today was reason to hope Alexander would be back. And there was fresh water. He got up and drank. Still, he was afraid he was wrong and he resolved to rest and save his energy. He sat quietly on his pallet as the day passed.

As the sun began to set on this second day without Alexander, he moved once again to open the curtains and light some lamps. He was grateful that the worst of the hunger pains had passed. Just as he prepared to sit again, the doors opened to the great room and he saw Alexander enter. He was so relieved he could not help himself. He rushed to Alexander and prostrated himself. To his great shame, he began to sob.

To be continued...