Work Text:
What can you do when you're good isn't good enough? […]
I just wanna fix it somehow , but how many times will it take?
Oh, how many times will it take for me to get it right?
Get it Right – Glee Cast
Torches and candles illuminate the naked, clambering bodies in the great dining hall of the palace of Babylon.
Men grunt their pleasure and swear as they take women and boys, driven by their lewd desires; their brains and manners obliterated by the vast amount of wine they swallowed.
King Alexander sits on the throne, laughing as he quenches his powerful thirst with long drinks from a giant golden chalice.
From time to time he casts a glance at two of his generals, Lysimachus and Learcus, who are battling on the floor in front of him, trying to gain supremacy over the other.
The great absentee is Hephaistion, locked up in the palace dungeon after being discovered in possession of the substance that killed Alexander's taster. The king had devastated by all this and, for that very reason, decided to organize that great feast. To forget, to think of something else instead of waiting to make a decision about the fate of his beloved.
The night is late now, not long before Apollo drives the sun into the sky, and the victorious Greeks have been celebrating since before sunset.
Alexander turns to the figure making his golden hair shine in the torchlight, and smiles at him, signaling him to come closer as he rises from his throne.
His gait, to be sure, is a bit swaying, but men much bigger than he is would not have even been able to keep upright after all the wine the king swallowed that night.
-Bagoa…-
He murmurs, extending a hand, which the eunuch promptly takes between his own.
-Yes, my king?-
He would like to whisper, as he is accustomed to, but he is forced to raise his voice enough to be heard above the din of the feasting.
-Walk me to my rooms and...draw me a bath.-
He orders, leaning his weight against the boy's small body.
Bagoa smiles secretly, bearing his Master's weight, as he slowly leads him toward the bathroom. It was always kept ready for the King, who greatly appreciated baths, even at not quite normal hours.
As they move away from the room the commotion diminishes, only bursts of laughter and shouts are heard from time to time.
Alexander passes a hand around Bagoa's waist, muttering things that make little sense, surely due to the wine.
They finally arrive at the bathroom, and Bagoa has Alexander rest on a bench covered with comfortable, colorful pillows while he works to gently peel his clothes from him, layer by layer.
Once the clothes are gone, carefully, Bagoa guides him up the three steps leading to the large tub and sits him down in the water. Only then does he take off his own clothes and follow him, taking the necessities to wash him.
Honey essence for his fair hair, lavender soap to scent his scar-covered skin, and finally scented oil, to keep the pesky insects at bay.
Alexander is leaning against the edge of the tub with his head tilted back, a sweet smile on his lips. Bagoa's heart fills with joy to see him like this, helpless for once, surrendering to him to make him feel good.
He is in love with the king, has been since he first entered Darius's harem, victorious and bloodied in armor, confident and polite as only a god could be.
He did everything he could to make himself stand out, to persuade the King to reciprocate his sentiment. Bagone even got to poisoning Alexander's food, making the taster suffer the consequences. Then he put the poison in Hephaistion's room, his greatest rival and obstacle to the king's heart.
Now it seems that his best has paid off. Alexander opens his eyes as he begins to wash him down and smiles at him, embracing him, his eyes are clouded with desire, staring at him in a way they had only ever stared at Hephaestion.
Bagoas allows himself to be molded by Alexander's hands. The king squeezes and caresses the boy, and kissed him with his hot, wine-scented mouth. The man then possesses the boy and then vexes his skin, sometimes with gentle caresses of his lips and sometimes with the playful bite of his teeth.
The eunuch sighs in pleasure, his eyes closed as he rejoices in his success and hugs the king. His hands going into the blond curls, as the Macedonian's tongue traces imaginary paths across his chest, and his hands work their way between his soft, womanlike buttocks, beginning to prepare him.
He lowers himself on the King's erection, moaning softly. His hands resting on those strong shoulders, as he begins to ride him, thrusts slow and deep, as he squeezes him inside himself, forcing him to moan and sigh.
He doesn't care that he can't come, he doesn't care that he is no longer a complete man. When Alexander is inside him, when he looks at him, he feels perfect, and being able to give him pleasure feels good.
The Macedonian's hands, impatient, squeeze his soft hips, enough to leave him bruised, as the king thrusts Bagoa against himself and with a force bordering on desperation, as his pleasure approaches.
-Hephaestion…-
This, however, is the name Alexander cries out in the moment of orgasm, arching against Bagoa and filling him with his seed.
The boy is petrified, his heart once more shattered.
Alexander prefers Hephaestion even now that he is suspected of trying to poison him, even now that he is far away, locked in the dungeon, he is first in the king's desires. Bagoa, as always, is but a substitute.
The boy bites his lips bloody to hold back his tears, as he finishes washing his King and accompanies him to bed, covering him with the light silk sheets.
Only once the Macedonian has fallen asleep does he escape his embrace and return to his small, asphyxiating bedroom, weeping burning tears like acid over his skin and his love.
Sitting on the floor, shaken by sobs he cannot stop, he wonders what he should do.
What should one do when one's best is not good enough?
He has tried it all: the flattery, the silent admiration, he anticipated his desires and willingly bent to his every fantasy, and after all else failed, he deprived Alexander of his most faithful friend, and still, it is not enough.
How many more times? How many more times will he have to try and see his heart torn to pieces before Alexander will love him?
He continues to wonder, without finding an answer, as the sun rises and shines on Babylon, illuminating them all. His body asleep on the ground, Alexander in his sumptuous rooms, Hephaistion in the fetid cell, and the sleeping bodies of the Macedonians in the great hall, still clinging to companions and fellow revelers.