But being with your own erastes has its advantages, I guess? It gives a fellow real status. At least you can walk the street hand-in-hand proudly with a true friend,' I offered chirpily. 'Not only are you viewed as the alpha males of your generation, you're quietly getting your rocks off together while everyone pretends not to notice. Girls-for-pay are no ongoing substitute, they have no conversation, they've never been taught to read or write, they know nothing of a man's world, their trade obliges them to be unfaithful, and they're probably lice-ridden or poxed to boot. Their last customer was probably your worst enemy at the palaestra, so you're probably swimming in that guy's pool. Yuck!'
'Yet I sometimes feel a loss not having someone close, Lys,'Antinous reckoned. 'My family, our tutors, our slaves, our school chums are all good company, including you too Lys. I love you all, but being really close to someone special would be different. Even closer than we are. And it's not just about sex or status. It's about having a friend. Even something more than a friend. Someone really special. Someone who returns your concerns, who knows you well, who shares your life just as you do theirs.'
My schoolchum trailed off thoughtfully.
'Isn't that what they say your wife will be when she eventually gets to know you, even if it takes ten years?' I suggested. 'Yet if one of us does take an erastes, Ant, surely it should be someone we feel at ease with, don't you think? Someone you can rely on. Someone who's there for you,' I concluded, inserting a barely veiled plea for my own cause. But it didn't wash with him.
He had turned away from the fire and tucked himself beneath the mantles and horse back-cloths to lie curled for body warmth. He gave no reply as daydreams and ambitions swept both our minds. My eyelids too now drifted closed as we pressed together for warmth. The fire's glow ebbed low as the chill in the air deepened. Sleep rapidly descended.
From here on I must speak chivalrously, gentlemen. You can make of it what you will. Yes, I am proud of my ardor, of my passion, of my intensity. I too am flesh and blood. So I will speak honestly to you.
To achieve warmth against the mountain air I found myself pressing closer to Ant's dozing trunk. I huddled close against his warm flesh and his thick mane of honey-pale hair. My arms arced around him to bind him closer. Yes, I could sense the hard tissues beneath his tunic, feel the places where bone meets bone, where bone meets skin, and where rounded flesh melds into one's own contours. It is a pleasing, comforting sensation.
I could study by the light of the flickering fire the shadowy outline of the nape of his neck with its graceful downward flow and blond mane. To me his shoulders' breadth, his neck muscles, and even his nape's hairline had a sculpted beauty all their own.
I could smell the residue of olive-oil rub lingering on his skin while the hunter's sweat smarted saltily from his tunic. His body had its own fresh scents which I long ago identified and recognized for the special aroma which is him.
While holding fast to him for warmth in the chill, I was close enough to savor his pulsing heart. I could match my breathing rhythm with his inhalations. To be so closely intertwined with flesh and blood you respect, you greatly admire, is deeply satisfying. His natural honesty and clarity of insight added to the appeal of his sleek form and tight muscularity.
It soon dawned on me how an unanticipated erection pressing against his frame was matched by his own member nudging my fist furled lazily by his crutch. In our sleepy, wined state we both delayed horny action, I guess, purely to enjoy the treat of being bound so close to each other's flesh. Do I need to remind you, gentlemen, what an intoxicating sensation it is to be so intimate with someone you idolize?
Sometime during the course of the night, propelled by vivid dreams and arousing imagery, a discharge of moisture was implanted excitedly between one set of crossed thighs. A surge of the Elixir of Eros accompanied by ecstatic shudders and sighs was ejected onto a thigh's flesh at a tunic's hem. It followed an extended, unhurried, period of grasping togetherness. The thrilling emission induced swooning calm. Yes, gentlemen, it felt pretty good. I'm sure you know what I mean?"
The group including Surisca heard-out Lysias's account in rapt silence.
"Later, the other companion was patiently, lovingly, coaxed to emit a similarly elated discharge. Rapid breathing and suppressed moans accompanied the heady rush of fulfillment. Yes, our natural appetites had been satisfied. Youth's driven sensuality had been shared between two friends in honor, gentlemen. I for one cherish only pride and strength in this.
The night's silence then fell once more as the campfire's flickers declined to dawn's drifting wisps.
Guys will be guys, we all know sirs. After all, Antinous and I were the closest of friends. We were companions. I for one found my buddy to be utterly unselfish in sharing his body's needs and favors.
You see, our hunter's trek into the forests of the Pontine Ranges delivered more than a herd of renegade horses or a harvest of extra edibles to augment a season's limited diet. Our journeys cemented an unspoken, bodily bond between we two Sons of Apollo."
Lysias lapsed at last into silence and stared broodily at the floor while toying at a rug with his foot.
The group watched on silently, transfixed by the candor of his testimony. Each of the men recalled long-forgotten episodes from days of old when their lives seemed more audacious in their possibilities.
The woman Surisca had heard nothing new at all.
CHAPTER 8
"We too should be thinking about sleep," Clarus muttered at last. "We must prepare ourselves for the morrow's interviews. Then we should continue our interrogation of Lysias, followed by a select list of others. More than half a day of Hadrian's two-day allowance will have passed by dawn."
Secretary Vestinus had quietly rejoined the group during Lysias's testimony.
Suetonius looked around at his companions. They were visibly tired already, except perhaps the lovely Surisca seated silently behind him. She seemed as bright-eyed as ever, probably due to her youth and because her professional duties would normally run late into night.
The Praetorian officer Quintus Urbicus remained standing at attention while his two junior officers stood at ease by one of the chamber entrances.
Vestinus spoke. He was long experienced in working late into the night on his master's bidding.
"I have cleared four chambers in apartments immediately beyond these offices to accommodate your staff, Clarus," he stated in proper protocol to the most senior of the investigation.
"They're not especially glamorous due to being workrooms or storerooms until only hours ago, but I've had folding beds delivered to each chamber along with some basic furniture. I suggest Suetonius shares the largest with you, Clarus, as sleeping quarters, with the remaining team scattered among the other three.
The four chambers open onto a communal space which you may wish to utilize as an interview room, or whatever. It's not grandiose, but it's convenient."
"You are most kind, Julius Vestinus," Suetonius soothed as smoothly as he could, "but I might prefer to share one of the bedchambers with my personal assistant, Surisca of Antioch. I don't mind which room, Julius, any will do. Perhaps Senator Clarus will take the larger chamber for himself?"
He made a point of deferring to his honored patron while at the same time putting his tag on Surisca for the duration. He deceived no one.
"Whatever, whatever, Special Inspector," Vestinus muttered with a raised eyebrow. Clarus politely confirmed the arrangement with a tired nod.
"All I need is sleep," he announced wearily. "It's been a long day, and tomorrow will be even longer. We should consider, Suetonius, the list to be interviewed and what chores to pursue in the interim."