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Agron arrived at the rebel’s makeshift camp before the moon had reached its highest point in the sky. Spartacus and Crixus were exchanging heated words, surrounded by a cluster of gladiators who bickered amongst themselves.

“Agron!” Spartacus held up a hand to Crixus, pausing their dialogue. “I sent for you but none could find you.” He walked to Agron and placed a brotherly hand on his shoulder, speaking as though they were alone. “I heard tale of what happened. I am truly sorry. Duro was a fierce warrior and an honorable man.”

Throat swollen beyond the capacity to speak, Agron nodded at Spartacus’ words.

“I have need of you to oversee a portion of the men. I would have us leave this place immediately. Go to the sentries and ensure they know we are moving out. I’d not see any of our number left behind.”

“We leave Capua now?” he choked. “I thought nearer to dawn.”

Crixus, who had been fuming behind Spartacus’ back, spoke up irritably. “We should already be gone from this fucking place if we are to begin searching villas. The closest to the west is nearly two hour’s journey by foot.”

The Gaul’s words did nothing to ease Agron’s already sour mood. “We waste time tracking your woman when we ought to liberate fighting men. The Romans are hunting us, you stupid fuck! Why waste precious time with useless house slaves?”

Spartacus caught Crixus as he roared and launched himself at Agron. “Calm yourself! I have given you my word, brother, that I will see Naevia free. Agron, go to the patrols and tell them to tighten the border perimeter so they will not be abandoned in the forest. All men are of worth.”

Agron growled once at Crixus, simply to aggravate and further redden the color of his face, before doing as Spartacus ordered. Turning without a backward glance, he walked back the way he entered camp. Moonlight illuminated his path as he searched for Liscus.

After a few minutes in silence, shouts and the sounds of a struggle provoked him into a run. The closer he came to the noise, the greater the feeling of dread grew within his chest. When he came upon the scene of the ruckus, he saw Fortis pinning the arms of a young man behind his back while Liscus knocked him out with the hilt of his sword.

“Stop!” he bellowed, uncaring if his voice carried into the heart of Rome, for he had finally come close enough to recognize the man they struck. The gladiators released him and he fell unconscious to the forest floor.

Agron shot a glare full of such venom that the two patrols each took a step backwards. He knelt at the man’s side. “Nasir,” he whispered, examining the wound inflicted by Liscus. The damage did not appear long-lasting, though Nasir’s head would throb when he woke. Lifting his gaze to the sentries, his anger very thinly leashed, he asked, “What the fuck is this? Tell me the crime he is guilty of that prompted you to assault him so.”

Liscus regained his wits first. “We believe him to be a spy. Here he comes, sneaking around the woods, asking for Spartacus. Who but the Romans would search us out?”

“Runaway slaves, you shit-eating Gaul,” Agron replied incredulously.

“He bears no brand,” Fortis insisted.

“He wears a collar,” Agron glanced down and saw it absent Nasir’s neck. “Which he discarded when he left his dominus. He is obviously no Roman.”

Fortis and Liscus exchanged uncertain looks. “We will present him before Spartacus,” Fortis suggested. “He will decide what is to become of him.”

Agron barely paid them any heed. He knelt again by Nasir’s side and, deciding he could not be roused enough to walk back to camp under his own power, heaved him up onto his shoulder. “This man is no spy. Locate the other patrols and inform them that we leave Capua. Come near Nasir again and I will deliver you from this world in pieces.”

Despite grumblings from the other men, Agron assured Nasir a place on the lone cart they had managed to steal whilst fleeing Capua. He grudgingly conceded that he owed Spartacus a debt for standing with him against the others. Unwelcome, however, was the expression on Spartacus’ face as he watched him carry Nasir. It was an odd mix of pity and superiority, as though he saw something so obvious in Agron’s bearing that Agron himself could not see.

Attempting to push troublesome thoughts from the forefront of his mind, he purposefully walked a distance from the cart carrying Nasir. Even after they’d liberated their intended villa, he put Nasir under the watchful eye of the medicus and went in search of drink, leaving with instructions that he should be summoned when the young man woke.

Hours later, Agron still held his first cup of wine. He had no stomach for it, nor for any of the fine food found in the villa’s storeroom. Though the sun continued to rise in the sky, he fell closer to exhaustion, very aware that he hadn’t slept in over two days.

“Agron?” a tentative voice called. It was one of the house slaves liberated from the villa.

He lifted his eyes sleepily in her direction.

“The boy is awake. He has requested your –”

But Agron was already striding past her. As he stepped into the room, the medicus retreated from Nasir’s bed hastily as if he had cause to fear Agron’s anger.

“How does he?” Agron asked the medicus, eyes colliding heavily with Nasir’s drowsy ones.

“The hurt is not much. He will be –”

“I am well,” Nasir interrupted him, holding Agron’s gaze steadily. The medicus bowed and exited discretely.

Against his will, Agron felt the strengthening of a kind of bond that tethered them together as he examined Nasir’s face. He did not wish to feel this way – not so close to losing Duro, and not so near their first, and only, encounter.

The unspoken connection moved him to sit on the edge of the pallet and lifted his hand to brush the tips of his fingers over the mean-looking welt on Nasir’s head. “Apologies. Had I arrived sooner, you would have been spared such an unpleasant welcoming.”

“None required. In hindsight, I suppose I needn’t have come flaunting my superior wealth, wits, and handiness with a weapon in the face of your men. Obviously, they felt threatened by me and believed that they must strike me down or hide their faces for the rest of eternity in utter shame and embarrassment.”

Agron laughed, bracing his hand near the head of the bed and leaning forward before he caught himself. Smiling took away years of mistreatment from Nasir’s face, it made him appear young and untroubled. Seeing it caused warring emotions to writhe within Agron’s chest. He wanted to kiss those sensual lips, and yet it felt immeasurably wrong to feel thusly in the wake of losing his brother. How could he seek pleasure while Duro no longer walked beside him?

Dropping his gaze from Nasir’s face, his eyes paused on the man’s bare neck, where used to rest a black collar. Reminder of enslavement only emphasized why he ought to keep his hands from temptation. Though Nasir had ridden his cock to completion only the evening before, Agron did not possess the right to touch him now.

“What shaped your decision? I had thought to never set eyes on you again.”

Nasir gazed upon a spot above his shoulder, as though a mirror existed there in which he could witness past events unfold. “There is so much cruelty in this world. I was blind to it, believing slaves were simply meant to suffer. Not a thing to be changed, but to accept as it is. To have no true free will, to be completely powerless over the decisions of your own body, it is worse than dying on the field of battle.”

“I am glad you came to reason. It lifts spirits to know you will never again scrape and bow before another, nor will I.” As much as Agron would have liked to remain and speak with Nasir, if only to hear the smooth cadence of his voice or to see the spark of vitality in his eyes, he was about to pass out from lack of sleep. He dropped his hand to cover Nasir’s briefly before standing and walking backwards to the hall. “Remain here until the pain in your head no longer troubles you. Medicus should not be far, call out should you require food or drink.”

Nasir’s hand had shot out as if to grab ahold of him before he left. His fingers brushed Agron’s arm before falling away empty. “You would rob me of your company after only a handful of words exchanged?”

“I wish you to rest. And if I do not retire, I fear I will fall asleep on the floor beside you.”

“Have you someone to return to?” The words were spoken so softly that Agron had to concentrate simply to hear them. Several long seconds passed before their meaning then became clear.

“No. I had only my brother in this world.”

Nasir shifted to make room beside him. “Rest your head here.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to refuse, to say that he needed no pity for the death of his only remaining family, but he saw nothing save the recognition of a kindred spirit in Nasir’s direct gaze.

“Come,” Nasir prompted. “I have need to close eyes as well. I would sleep wrapped in your arms.”

Despite his severe drowsiness, Agron’s cock jumped in interest as he spread out beside Nasir. He could not recall the last time he had slept in the same space with another since he and Duro had been children. Well, slept and not fucked, he amended silently.

Agron fell asleep the instant he shut his eyes. When next he opened them, it felt as though no time had passed, yet the sky looked to be darkening out the small window. He looked down and a smile tugged at his lips upon seeing Nasir’s still sleeping form. Brushing the unruly hair back from his forehead, Agron examined the bruise left from Liscus’ blow. It looked to be healing nicely. Carefully, he rolled Nasir off his arm and chest, and went in search of Spartacus. He had no doubt that Crixus would be out of his wits with eagerness to liberate the next villa in search of Naevia. He hoped to avoid that fuck as long as he was able.

Before finding their rebel leader, Agron caught a whiff of food wafting from the kitchen, reminding him how hungry he was. But before he could satisfy his appetite, a perpetually angry voice shouted his name. Turning, Agron pulled a grimace as he faced Crixus.

“Yes?” He asked, trying, and failing, to inject Spartacus-like patience into his tone.

“Spartacus summons you. We need to be gone from this villa or lose benefit of cover of darkness.” Crixus paused, his eyes narrowing on a place behind Agron’s shoulder. He raised his voice slightly. “Waste no more time with useless house slaves,” he said, throwing Agron’s own words back at him. “They will drag you to even lower depths than you have sunk yourself.”

Agron turned to see Nasir hovering in the hall, arm braced against the wall but with an impressive display of proud defiance in his expression at Crixus’ insult. In his own show of insolence, Agron went to Nasir, tilted his face up with a tender hand beneath his chin, and kissed him.

“Witness, Nasir,” he said, turning and glaring at Crixus, “what happens to a man who allows the one he loves to be snatched from his arms –”

“Agron!”

Had any other than Spartacus called him, Agron would have continued baiting Crixus. He fell silent and rested a hand on Nasir’s shoulder.

“We are nearly ready to move out. Crixus, rally the warriors.” As the Gaul lumbered from sight, Spartacus turned to Agron with a disapproving darkness in his gaze. “It is cruel to mock him with veiled comments regarding Naevia.”

“Thinly veiled. How ought he to be treated? With soft kisses and whispers of love?” Agron smiled at Spartacus’ grim expression.

“Aid in preparations for our journey. The next villa is less than an hour’s walk.”

***

Nasir integrated himself seamlessly into the rebel’s relocation effort. Agron then ensured he remained out of the fighting when the time came to overtake the next Roman house. Nasir protested initially, yet relented and agreed not to join the fray after Agron swore to begin training him how to fight the following morning.

The time came when the gladiators were merry in celebration. Many offered him a cup of wine, but Agron searched for Nasir. He found him away from the raucous laughter and song, talking to a small group of recently liberated house slaves. Because he did not wish to interfere, he propped himself against a pillar a short distance from them and listened.

The two men and three women, all of whom were unknown to him, spoke of dueling emotions upon their liberation. They stood grateful to be free of their Roman master, yet wary of capture from Spartacus and his men. Nasir assured them of Spartacus’ intentions and his sincerity. He told of his own enslavement and his eventual acceptance into their group – smartly omitting his violent encounter in the woods with Fortis and Liscus.

Not all seemed placated by his words, yet one of the women took notice of Agron standing nearby and leaned slightly into Nasir, lowering her voice. Nonetheless, Agron heard her words plainly.

“Though I do not delight in the thought of brutish gladiators, that one may use me to heart’s content.”

Nasir turned to see the object of her desires, his face breaking into a wolfish smile when he cast eyes upon Agron.

“That is Agron, from the lands east of the Rhine.” Nasir turned back to the woman. “And he fucks as a god. Take my words as truth, for it is a thing with which you will never gain familiarity.”

Grinning broadly, Agron walked up to their small circle and stood behind Nasir. Placing his hands on his waist, Agron pulled the other man against him, letting Nasir feel his hard length against his backside. Unabashed by their audience, Agron leaned down and sucked the lobe of Nasir’s ear between his lips. He felt the increase of Nasir’s breathing.

“Apologies,” was all Nasir said before he turned and tugged Agron out of sight. Agron laughed aloud as they found their way into an empty bedroom. As soon as he stepped over the threshold, Agron spun Nasir around and collided with his lips in a bruising kiss.

Wasting no time, Nasir’s hands quickly skimmed the length of Agron’s body and found his cock, exposing it to the cool air. Nasir wrenched away from the kiss with a groan and fell to his knees. He took a brief moment to admire Agron’s length before taking it into his mouth.

Agron tightened his fist in Nasir’s hair as desire ran rampant throughout his entire being. He thrust shallowly, shuddering whenever the head of his cock bumped against the back of Nasir’s throat.

As Nasir stroked him in time with his licks, a terrible curiosity brought forth a question Agron half-hoped Nasir would ignore. “Did you do this for your dominus?”

“Sometimes.” Nasir’s voice was steady, utterly controlled, yet he did not raise eyes to meet Agron’s. “Only when he and his friends were very drunk.” He returned to Agron’s cock with a vengeance, and Agron wondered whether Nasir sought to rob him of the ability to form and speak further questions.

He succeeded. Agron barely possessed the capacity to pull away and drag Nasir onto the bed before he released down his throat.

“I wish to savor you this time,” Agron growled low in Nasir’s ear, as he began a slow exploration of the man’s lithe body.

“I wanted that too.” Nasir’s fingers dug into his shoulders.

“No longer?” Agron breathed against his chest, laving one pebbled nipple with his tongue.

Nasir’s legs intertwined with his own. “The first time, I thought that I could kiss you forever, I could suck you forever. I still want to, yet freedom has changed me in ways I’d never thought –” His words ended in a gasp as Agron cradled his sac in a tender palm. “I look to the future, a thing I’d never before had. We have forever. And all I want in this moment is for you to fill me.”

Agron pressed his face against Nasir’s upper thigh and squeezed the cock in his hand as his heart clenched at Nasir’s words. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think past his desire for this man. How was it possible that they’d only met two days ago?

He wet his finger and led it to Nasir’s opening. “You want me in here?” He asked softly, pressing steadily until the digit disappeared to the knuckle inside the tight vice of Nasir’s body.

Nasir groaned and jerked, prompting Agron to lay his other arm heavily across his waist to keep him from bucking him off. A fine sheen of sweat glistened across Nasir’s bowed chest. He attempted to take more of Agron’s finger, but Agron held him fast.

“I would have an answer from you, Nasir. You want me here?” He bent his finger and Nasir gasped.

“Yes!”

Agron pulled out slightly and inserted a second finger, twisting his wrist to stretch Nasir as greatly as possible, loving the sounds of pleasure he wrung.

“Agron, now,” Nasir panted. “Now, please!”

“Are you sure?” Agron brought his lips to the tip of Nasir’s sex and teased it with his tongue.

Rather than remain placid under his touch as he might have done under his dominus, Nasir grabbed a fistful of Agron’s hair and tugged sharply, forcing him up for a demanding kiss. Never before had anyone been so hungry for him and it made Agron’s cock harden nearly past endurance.

Nasir wrapped his legs around Agron’s waist as he got into position above him. But Agron paused before plunging forward. He cupped Nasir’s cheek and stared into those fathoms-deep brown eyes. “I want to be the only man you allow inside of you.”

Smiling with his eyes, Nasir reached between their bodies and held Agron’s cock in a possessive grip. “Only for me.”

Heart light at their mutual declarations, Agron thrust fully into Nasir’s body in one stroke, hoping swiftness would minimize the initial pain of breach. Nasir urged him on, and then they were lost in a concordance of movement, thrusting bodies, and sounds of pleasure. All too soon, Agron felt his climax building. He paused, which earned him a sharp look from Nasir.

“Move!” It was equal parts pleading and demanding, and Agron could not ignore it. He pulled out and covered Nasir from behind, entering him without preamble. They fit together so perfectly it was as though the gods themselves had preordained their union.

“I will not last,” Agron warned, his lips against the side of Nasir’s face, tasting the saltiness of his sweat-dampened skin.

Nasir responded by tightening his body around the invading cock and reaching one hand behind him to clutch Agron’s thigh. “Come. I would feel your release.” He gasped as Agron quickened his thrusts and reached around to swiftly stroke his cock.

Agron held out until the moment Nasir shuddered and constricted around him, then wrapped himself around the other man until the tremors of release subsided. Partially collapsing on top of Nasir, Agron rested his forehead against the other man’s shoulder blade.

After several minutes, Nasir broke the silence. “Are you asleep?”

Agron chuckled. “No. Am I crushing you, little man?” He rolled to the side to lay face-up beside Nasir.

“That is not what I was going to say.” Nasir pushed himself up and flopped down heavily on Agron’s chest. Agron let out an amused “whoof!” as the air was knocked out of him.

“I wish to begin fight training.”

Agron covered the back of Nasir’s head with his hand, relishing the feeling of laying skin-to-skin with him, limbs intertwined. He could remain in tender embrace until the end of days. “This very moment?”

“No, but today. As soon as possible.”

“Why hasten now? When first we met, you had no use for the sword.”

Nasir shifted position atop him, and whether the intention behind it was innocent or meant to enflame, Agron’s cock stirred again when Nasir’s length brushed his.

“I would fight with my dying breath for the right to remain in your arms.”