Date: 2013-06-15 03:57 am (UTC)
Nicomedes smiled. “Your recklessness is...” He waved his free hand slightly, admiring the wine swirling in the glass. “...appealing.”

“The desires of Bithynia are the desires of Rome,” Caesar replied.

Nicomedes sipped his wine. Caesar angled his chin slightly upward, smiling. “Are they now?” Nicomedes asked, and held out the wineglass again.

Caesar leaned forward, raising his hand to tilt the wineglass toward him. His fingers pressed against Nicomedes, and Nicomedes found he was holding his breath. “Yes,” Caesar said, and licked wine off his lips.

“So that is what Rome wants,” Nicomedes said. “But I am interested in Caesar: what does Caesar want?”

“I am Rome,” said Caesar, all hauteur in his tone.

Nicomedes grabbed Caesar’s collar, pulling him forward to kiss him. The wineglass fell to the floor between them, and Nicomedes kicked it under the couch, dragging Caesar off the couch to his knees on the antique rug. Caesar’s windburned cheek was rough beneath Nicomedes’ hand, his chapped lips scratchy against Nicomedes’ mouth.
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