Erotic short. An attendant is well-used by a warrior after the arena.
850w. Cis M/M, Roman warrior with a slave in the baths. Size difference, strength kink, mild dehumanisation and humiliation, begging. Anal and oral.
The roar of the jeering crowds is still loud in Quintus’ ears, and even though he wasn’t in with the audience nor down on the sands of the arena he feels dizzy with it, feels a kind of heat prickling under his skin. It’s an inescapable passion, that lust for blood and violence and heat, contagious amongst the warriors and amongst the crowd and amongst the whole of the city, it seems to Quintus.
He’s waiting for Cassius as he finally comes down to the baths, blood still thick and sticky on his skin, coagulated into the heavy hair on his chest and his upper arms and between his legs.
His cock is hard and heavy from the fight.
“You were incredible,” he says breathlessly as Cassius strides forward — one of the other attendants has just put more stones in the water, and the effect is that Cassius walks through a cloud of steam like some spirit of war coming out of the fog on the field, an echo of Mars himself. “Really, you were — ”
Cassius doesn’t kiss him.
He never does, not after a fight, and even then not on the mouth — he breathes on and mouths at the back of his neck, sometimes, but he won’t right now, and Quintus lets out a sharp noise at how hard Cassius’ grip is in his hair as he turns him around and bends him over.
There’s no warning, no prelude, no talk or time for adjustment, as there never is with Cassius. Quintus thinks about it, sometimes, craves to be able to get Cassius’ attention like some of the other attendants can, the men who are big and muscled or even just fat — and Quintus isn’t even that thin, he’s not waifish or that pretty, just short and a little slimmer than most.
Flavius Hostus had laughed when Quintus had mentioned it, had said that Cassius saw other men as either foes or food, and Quintus was lucky he wasn’t a foe.
Cassius’ cock prods hard and heavy against his hole, and Quintus lets out a sound at the sudden invasion, the shove forward of its big, blunt head, as thick and fat as the rest of the man; the sudden stretch of his hole, even oiled and kept prepped as he does it, makes him whine. The angle doesn’t help — in the absence of anything to immediately bend him over, Cassius has him shoved up against a wall and is almost lifting him by the hair so that he’s up on his tiptoes.
He leans back as he does it, setting his feet flat and solid on the ground, and with Cassius’ other hand coming up to support his chest, Quintus has no escape: he’s lifted off the ground and impaled, Cassius’ cock sliding deep in him and making him feel as though he’s filled up to the very core.
“Wait, wait,” Quintus moans. The sensation is inescapable and overwhelming, making his cock throb as Cassius just uses him, sinks Quintus down onto him and rocks his hips up and into him — when Quintus tries to kick out and get his feet back on the ground, Cassius grunts and drops his hair.
For a second, Quintus thinks Cassius is actually letting him stand, letting him have some relief, but Cassius catches his hand under one of Quintus’ bent knees and loops his arm under the other while steadying his chest again, and now Quintus is completely off the ground, feeling Cassius’ cock drag and pull at his insides as he pulls out and then fucks into him again. His own cock is weeping and he’s on the verge himself, trying to breathe as Cassius bounces him in place.
“Good fight,” says Mettius Kaeso, coming to stand beside them and nudging Cassius in the shoulder. “He nearly fucking gutted you.”
“Nearly,” grunts Cassius.
They just keep fucking talking.
They just keep talking while Cassius keeps just fucking using him, fucks Quintus like he’s naught more than a sleeve for his cock, and Quintus is dripping, his prick jerking and filmy slick dripping down the shaft of his cock and down his thighs, dripping down his bollocks — he’s bent so far back that some of it drips down to where they’re connected, and the thought makes Quintus shudder.
When Cassius comes, Quintus is aware of the throb of his cock inside him, the pulse and shoot of his heavy balls, and he still doesn’t put him back on the floor, just lifts him free and lets himself flop out of him, and Quintus is so empty and so unfulfilled he could cry.
He feels dizzy as he’s dropped on his back over the stone at the edge of the bath, and Kaeso fucks inside him — they’re still talking as Cassius kneels over Quintus and lowers his balls into his mouth.
“Please,” Quintus whines before his mouth is full up with them, and Kaeso continues as he pleases — the barest mercy he gets from Cassius is the other man beginning to flick and twist his nipples, and Quintus regrets asking, because he comes twice before they let him free again.
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