Work Text:
Title: - It Must Be The Oysters
Author: - Caia Caecilia
Rating: - 15
Pairing: - Lucius Vorenus/Titus Pullo
Feedback: - Like it or loathe it let me know
Disclaimer: - I own nothing and only do this for fun so please don't sue. The dialogue in this piece is all from "Rome" and is not my work.
It Must Be The Oysters
Sitting across the table from Lucius Vorenus in the crowded, noisy tavern watching him getting steadily more and more drunk Pullo couldn't help but wonder what the fuck he was thinking. It wasn't as if Vorenus was even his type. Not that the lack of tits bothered him, Pullo had been a soldier for too long not to know that you took some comfort and relief where you could find it. A hand or a mouth was the same whether it belonged to a man or a woman. Besides some of the arses he'd fucked had been a damn sight tighter then any of the old whores' cunny's he'd poked.
No, it wasn't that Vorenus was a man it was that he was...well Vorenus. The man was so upstanding and proper it was a wonder he didn't snap, and smiling that was something he didn't do a lot of either, especially not lately Pullo thought sourly. Not that that was Vorenus' fault, no that whore Niobe and that bastard Evander were to blame for that. At least Evander had paid while Niobe just seemed to make Vorenus more and more unhappy. Pullo felt a twinge in his chest at that thought but quickly pushed the feeling away; blamed the oysters he'd eaten earlier and drained his mug.
After watching Vorenus spill more of his drink down his chin then he got in his mouth Pullo decided enough was enough. Reaching over and pulling a weakly protesting Vorenus up from his seat Pullo steered them both towards the tavern's door. For the first time in many years he found himself still sober after an evenings drinking and as he listened to Vorenus' slightly slurred words he rather wished he were as drunk as Bacchus. Then perhaps the pain he felt at Vorenus' defeated tone might not hurt so much. Or maybe it was just the bad oysters that made his heart clench when Vorenus whispered,
"What's wrong with her? What's wrong with me?"
For one insane moment Pullo wanted to grab Vorenus by his shoulders and shake him and tell him everything about his precious Niobe, about Evander, about the baby. But that was impossible it would destroy Vorenus of that Pullo had no doubt. The boy Octavian had been right it must never be spoken of. Vorenus was too proud to be able to take the shame that Niobe had brought upon him. So instead Pullo rested a hand against Lucius' cheek and said,
"If she makes you this unhappy maybe you should leave her, hmm?"
When Vorenus slid to the ground and Pullo heard the anguish in his voice as he said,
"I'd rather die then leave her. I'd rather die."
He felt as if he'd been punched in the gut. Reaching down and pulling Vorenus upright Pullo wondered if he'd ever see the other man as vulnerable again.
Holding him close in the dark street his fingers found the naked skin of Lucius' shoulder. The skin there was soft stretched over hard muscle and Pullo wondered what the rest of Vorenus' body would feel like under his hands. He held the other man upright, their bodies pressed together, the heat of Vorenus against him made Pullo hard and he briefly wondered how Vorenus would react if he were sober and he felt Pullo's hard cock pressed against his hip.
The street was empty and Pullo thought about claiming that mouth that breathed hot and moist against his neck. Vorenus was too drunk to protest if Pullo pushed him up against a wall and pulled up his tunic. He was pretty sure it wouldn't take much rubbing and humping to get him off and Vorenus wouldn't remember a thing in the morning.
For one second Pullo was actually tempted to take his pleasure with the prim and proper Lucius Vorenus. A man who was so in love with his wife that he wouldn't fuck Venus if she lay in front of him with her legs wide open wet and begging for it. Then Pullo thought about the other qualities that had drawn him to Vorenus in the first place. His honesty, his intelligence and his loyalty - he couldn't abuse Vorenus' trust in him. The trust he'd shown by confiding in him and letting Pullo see his vulnerability. So instead Pullo murmured,
"It'll be alright lamb. It'll be alright."
And hoisting Vorenus over his shoulder he took him home to Niobe's bed, and as he walked back to his own bed alone Pullo knew that the empty pain he felt inside had nothing to do with bad oysters after all.