Think Twice Before You Touch My Man

[Barca]

There was indeed glory in going to the arena, fighting to honor the House of Batiatus. But each time he left, he could not dull the throbbing of his heart. Having to leave Pietros. There was a familiarity to this. When he and Auctus would fight. They could laugh it off, smile in the danger of it . . . but deep down, he knew that they both held that fear of losing the other. Barca need not concern himself with losing Pietros in the arena, but he also did not wish to leave him in this world. Unprotected. Particularly with certain other brothers who Barca knew kept too close an eye on him. Lingering gaze that the Beast of Carthage noticed as of late. Something he would immediately shoot down so that the other would not dare act upon desire. Pietros belonged to him.

Just as he belonged to Pietros. United in ways that went beyond the shackles of slavery. They were united by heart. When Barca returned victorious, he was treated as such. Greeted by his brothers who gave him pats and praise as Barca smiled among them. His eyes sought another, only to be left still desiring the presence of a single man. Pietros was always there at the gate to greet him upon return. So concern immediately filled Barca, as to the reason he was not there. He made his leave, eager to seek out his partner, finding him in their now shared rooms. Pietros back turned to the larger male. "I did not see you at the gate," he said with a hint of playfulness in the teasing accusation. "I would not prolong reunion any longer," he added as he began to move closer to him.

Tag: Pietros

[Pietros]

Pietros heard the commotion before he saw it and as much as it pained him, he retreated instead of going with the others to meet the gladiators upon their return. Every time Barca left for the games it became more and more clear that Pietros would not survive in the ludus without him. The hungry looks and the loose hands were too strong and without Barca there to keep him afloat, he would surely drown. Even now, Gnaeus had dared lay his hands upon him knowing full well that Barca would return, should Barca cease to return there would be nothing left for Pietros except death. And at the same time, Pietros didn't want to be precious jewel that needed to be protected. He wanted to stand equal with Barca and the other slaves, in solidarity. But the Romans had found a way to drive a wedge between that as well. 

His back straightened when he heard Barca enter, and he heaved a great sigh as Barca spoke. He wanted so much to be there at the gate. He wanted a joyous and pleasurable reunion with Barca. Yet he kept his face towards the wall. "Apologies. Medicus has kept me busy." Which wasn't the truth but also wasn't exactly a lie. He had required stitching along the right cheekbone where Gnaeus sought to bloody with his fist. "Should I fetch you water?"

[Barca]

Something was wrong. Pietros did not even turn to face him and it drew concern from Barca more than anything else. For this seemed, uncharacteristic of Pietros from his usual jovial nature. Instead, he said that medicus kept him busy and asked if he should get him water. Barca stepped closer toward him as he talked, reaching out a hand to place on Pietros shoulder as he began to turn him around to face him. "I would rather taste your lips than--" But Barca's words abruptly stopped mid sentence when he turned Pietros to face him. The larger male's expression hardened as his eyes laid on the wound on Pietros' cheek. Barca was no fool.

It seemed very obvious how that had been inflicted. He could feel his body slightly tremble from anger, his expression deadpan, as if the beast within him threatened to emerge. To erupt. "Who?" But even when asking, Barca felt he already knew the answer. Who else would dare lay a hand on Pietros? Who else had no hame in the way his gaze lingered on the man Barca loved? The question remained though . . . was this the extent of what Gnaeus had done to him, or had he done more? Either way, Barca would not let this go unanswered. He was going to fucking kill him.

Tag: Pietros