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Fandom Stocking - 2012
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2013-01-03
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All Greek

Summary:

Alexios teaches Hilarion Greek... in bed.

Notes:

I don't actually know Greek. But I tried to write a story about it anyway!

Thanks to Carmarthen and osprey_archer for betaing and to Lysimache for answering my stupid Greek questions; any grammatical errors remaining are mine.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

"That was very nice," said Hilarion afterwards, drowsily, his face pressed into Alexios' bare shoulder and muffling all the words. "It would be nicer, though, if I knew what you had said, at the end there."

Muzzy-headed still, Alexios could not quite think of what Hilarion meant -- and neither could he remember what he had said. He never could with any lover he had had. It had all blurred together with the feel of Hilarion's hands on him, Hilarion's mouth on him, then, ah gods, Hilarion inside him, finally, carefully, taking him apart with every little movement. Of course he did not know what he'd said. At the time he probably wouldn't have known his own name, especially at last. It had been sweet, so very good.

He had probably been mumbling, moaning encouragement. He knew he did that. So he lay there, stroking Hilarion's back, tracing his fingertips down the bones of his spine, and hoping Hilarion would clarify.

When Hilarion did not, he started to wonder what hideous thing he had said in the midst of it, all unaware. Could he have said something strange?

"What did I say?"

"I haven't any idea," said Hilarion, and he almost sounded embarrassed about it. "I only know British and Latin."

Well, that explained why Hilarion hadn't understood him, for that only left one other language. But... Hilarion? Truly? Alexios frowned. "A name like yours and you don't know Greek, Hilarion?"

"Kinaidos ei," said Hilarion cheerfully, with the worst accent Alexios had ever heard in his life. It was probably the only Greek word he knew, and it hardly counted, for it was the same in Latin. Alexios wasn't sure whether it was meant to be an insult or a demonstration of Hilarion's vocabulary. Probably both.

"We already established that I liked that," he said, laughing.

"So we did."

"What was I saying to you, then?" The question was idle musing, for himself. He did not expect Hilarion to answer.

Hilarion raised his head, smiling, but there was a sort of sadness in his eyes. "I am sure I do not know, sir. Why, you see, in my family we carved up the languages; I had Latin, but my sister had all the Greek. One extra each. It was good we both had British, otherwise we should hardly have talked to each other at all!"

Alexios snorted with laughter. "Liar."

"Yes, well," said Hilarion. "I never had a Greek nurse, at any rate. Or a sister."

He was acutely aware, suddenly, of how different they were, for all that they were both officers in the Frontier Wolves. Hilarion had likely crawled his way up here with everything he had, while Alexios was the Dux Britanniarum's cast-down nephew.

"I think you have it wrong," said Alexios, very carefully, in British now, for that language he had learned from his nurse. "I have the Greek from my mother, for she was born in Ephesus."

But Hilarion was silent. It was only when he put his head down, looking away again, that he began to speak. "I do not think my father was Greek," he said, "else I would be as dark as you, eh? But my mother did not tell me his name, if ever she knew what it was. She died when I was a child."

Alexios shifted, uncomfortable and instantly guilty. He had not meant to know this. It was too new between them for him to know this, and he should never have heard it. Not like this. "Hilarion--"

"He must have served with one of the Eastern vexillations, though," Hilarion continued. "She was very certain, they told me, that he had been a soldier and she wanted me to have a Greek name as he did. And so I do. I know not whether it was his name, but it was not a good name, not in my clan where we kept to the old names. On the other hand--" he shrugged-- "I was already the bastard son of a whore, so I am not sure any name could have aided me."

Alexios found that his hand had tightened about Hilarion's shoulder. "I am sorry." He had not known. He felt, sometimes, though he was not that much younger than Hilarion in years, he was younger in so many other ways. And yet it was he who was the commander here!

"It is no matter." Hilarion shrugged again. "I only did not think you understood that... it had been different. For me." He looked up and smiled again, and it was a real smile, now. "But I would still like to know what you said."

"I am not sure what I said," he said, honestly, "but if you like I will give you a lesson."

"Oh?"

"Perhaps I called you ho kalos," he said, and he spelled out the letters on Hilarion's back with a fingertip.

Hilarion shivered under his hands. "You might have. What does that mean?" he asked, and his voice was dark again with desire, almost a moan.

"The beautiful one," said Alexios in British, and then in Latin. "Bellus. Pulcher," he added, remembering at last to say the more mannered word. "Did they not teach you any nice words, in the barracks?"

"Posthê," said Hilarion happily, sounding almost triumphant, and Alexios poked him in the arm.

"I said nice words, Hilarion."

Hilarion was grinning crookedly. "Isn't it a very nice word? You cannot tell me you dislike the thing. You did not mind when I kissed yours. That was nice, you said--"

"I suppose it is good that you remembered another word," Alexios acknowledged, interrupting him, "but I meant that the word itself should be proper, and not crude barracks-talk."

"There was a verb too."

"I am sure there were several," said Alexios, drily.

Hilarion's face was bright with joy, his smile avid. "So, what else might you have said?"

"If I called you beautiful," Alexios ventured, "perhaps I said, as well, ho kallistos."

"And that is?" Hilarion furrowed his brow. "No, wait, I will guess. Is it the same as bellissimus or pulcherrimus?"

"The very same," Alexios said, and kissed him. "Clever of you."

"So I have always been, sir," said Hilarion, stretching, with that same lazy grin, and in that moment Alexios knew he loved him now, sharp and exquisite and wonderful. "Perhaps I will have some Greek at last, if the rest is this easy."

"It isn't," Alexios admitted, in British, with a laugh, and then found, to his surprise, that his mind was all Latin again. "Te amo, magis quam oculos."

Hilarion tilted his head curiously. "That is not Greek... and you never said that before."

"I am saying it now," Alexios said, as bravely as he could, and in reply Hilarion kissed him.

"Is there a chance," whispered Hilarion, against his lips, "that we'll get to my words again? Now that I have learned all this additional Greek."

"Mmm," said Alexios. "Tell me one of your verbs, then."

"Thelô," replied Hilarion, promptly. "Agapô. Philô. Erô."

It was an excellent answer.

Notes:

Sadly, Hilarion's word for "cock" is, as far as I can determine, Attic rather than Koine. I have no idea what the difference would be, because... I don't know Greek. Sigh.