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Tommy stumbled into the large room of the palace, his legs struggling to keep up with the longer, more powerful legs of the men he was chained to. He'd long lost track of how many days they'd been walking, been marching here to the Pharaoh's palace to start work building some giant, ridiculous statue to honour the gods that Tommy couldn't honestly believe in. How could the gods exist when they'd let Tommy be pulled from his happy, if poor, home and dragged for miles and miles through the hot desert?
One by one, the other slaves were unchained and forced up to kneel before the Pharaoh. Tommy kept his eyes averted like he'd been ordered to, his back still aching from when he'd been whipped after hacking his own hair off with a knife in a misguided show of defiance. He felt his heart racing as the guards moved down the line, coming closer to him, even though he knew his fate was already decided. He wouldn't be going home; this process was only to show the Pharaoh what his money had bought, introduce him to the nameless bodies who would be building his monument.
The guard's hand was rough on Tommy's arm, yanking him forward and out of his thoughts. He barely managed not to trip over his feet, but the stone floor was hard on his knees as he was forced down. Tommy could hear the guard whispering, presumably telling the Pharaoh that he was a difficult one. The voice grew louder, and just in time he realized he was being told to lift his eyes. He lifted his head slowly, taking in the sight before him.
The Pharaoh was seated on a large golden throne, and nearly everything else about him gleamed as brightly. Gold sandals adorned his feet, and the skin of his body shone in the light of the palace. The cloth wrapped around his hips was fine, and Tommy's fingers itched as he ached to touch it, feel something softer that the horrid itchy thing he'd been wearing. The Pharaoh was wearing more jewellery than Tommy had ever seen his in life, heavy rings on his fingers, broad cuffs on his wrists and thin bands twining around his strong upper arms. Resting heavy on his chest was a half-moon shaped amulet, large, stretching from one nipple to the other.
Like everything else he was wearing the amulet was inset with large jewels and stones, but as Tommy's gaze moved higher, he found that he was most mesmerized by the Pharaoh's eyes. They were rimmed heavily in kohl, which only made their icy colour stand out that much more. Tommy didn't think he'd ever seen a pair of eyes like that, not blue or grey, but somehow both at the same time. The face that those eyes were in was strong, handsome and there was something around the edges of the full lips that Tommy thought might be a smile. Soon, the heavy gaze of the Pharaoh became too much, and Tommy dropped his head again, feeling his cheeks colour even below the sunburn.
He heard the Pharaoh speaking softly to the guard again, but he could not hear the words. Tommy was scared; he'd thought he was prepared, but now he felt as though the stones beneath him were shaking.
- - -
Adam was bored; he didn't really care about the new slaves being brought in, but his people thought he should see the people who would be building the monument to his life. He wasn't sure why it mattered, seeing as many of them would be dead before the month was out. So he sat, tall and strong in his throne, nodding as each of the slaves was brought before him one at a time. It was a seemingly neverending parade of dark, dirty men, some broad shouldered and strong looking, some thin and weak. Those were the ones that wouldn't last, the work was simply too much for them to handle.
Near the middle of the line, one of the slaves finally caught Adam's eye. He took in the man's kneeling form as his head guard whispered in his ear, words like defiant and difficult and not worth it. Adam raised a hand, silencing him immediately. He gestured, the guard instantly barking out an order for the slave to lift his chin. Adam felt his eyes widen briefly before he settled his face back into a smooth mask, letting his eyes take in the slave's appearance.
His body was slight, but not weak. The arms and thighs were clearly muscled, and the skin there was smooth and clear, where it wasn't marred by sun or the kiss of the guards' whip. What made this slave truly special however, was his hair. It was rare to see a man with such light hair, his time in the sun bleaching it to a gleaming gold colour, visible even through the dirt. It was short on the back and sides, where the slave had hacked at it with a dull knife. He'd left a long shock in the front however and it hung in front of his face, slightly obscuring one of his eyes. His eyes were beautiful, large and brown, even as full of anger and defiance as they were. His lips were pink, full despite being drawn into a thin line, obviously working hard to keep from speaking out.
The slave's eyes met Adam's, and their gazes held briefly before the slave dropped his gaze to the floor again. His head hung low and subservient, but his shoulders and legs remained strong as if he was mere moments from leaping to his feet and running. Adam wanted him; he didn't know why, the slave was like so many others, but want him he did. As the Pharaoh, there was no such thing as wanting, merely having and he gestured for the guard to come closer.
"Prepare him, and bring him to me. Tonight. I want him." Adam sat back, resting his chin on his closed fist as he watch the slave be yanked to his feet, and thrown back into line. He let a small smile play at the corners of his lips, and even as he continued to nod at each new slave that was brought in front of him, his eyes continued to drift to the small slave with the golden hair. Once, their eyes met and Adam was struck with the intensity he saw there. Yes, he wanted him.
- - -
When the other slaves were being chained together again, Tommy held out his wrists for the shackles. Instead he felt the strong hand of the head guard wrap around his thin wrist, pulling him along. Tommy forced his legs to move quickly, not wanting to fall but barely able to keep up with the guards long, purposeful strides. He wanted to ask where he was being taken, but he couldn't make his throat cooperate; it had gone long unused for anything other than screaming.
Finally, they reached the end of a long hallway and stood in front of an ornately carved door. Tommy's eyes followed the carvings, the hieroglyphs sharp and defined but telling him little about what awaited him beyond that door. Had he been deemed to difficult to even bother keeping? Was he about to be killed? He was only a little surprised to find that the idea of death didn't scare him as much as he'd thought it would.
"The Pharaoh wishes to have you tonight, in his private rooms. Behind this door you will be made ready for him. I do not know what he sees in someone so insolent as you, but you are lucky. I will return for you this evening and bring you to him." The guard's tone was clipped, and after opening the door and shoving Tommy through it, he turned and marched back down the hall.
Tommy jumped as the heavy door slammed shut behind him, and lifted his head to look around the room. It was the bath, and the heavy, scented air assaulted Tommy's senses with pleasant smells, the kind he'd almost forgotten had existed. He reached out for a small pot of scented oil, wanting to feel something smooth and fine, but his hand was swatted away. He was startled; he hadn't noticed anyone else in the room, but when he turned his gaze he saw a woman, small and older looking at him with a kind of exasperation.
"You don't touch, that's for me to touch. You are the one the Pharaoh desires? Very well, I do not know what he sees in you but come with me. I shall prepare you for him." The old woman spoke quickly, and moved with the same speed and Tommy shook his head and followed her.
The large stone tub had already been filled with hot water, and scented with something clean. Tommy sniffed deeply as he slid naked into the tub, and thought the scent might be rosemary. After he was seated, the old woman wasted no time and spared no inch of his skin. A thick, creamy soap was spread over Tommy's skin and scrubbed away with a rough cloth until all of the dirt was gone, and his skin was pink. The hair was removed from under his arms and from his legs, and his face was carefully shaved. She lifted his hands and feet, cleaning and trimming his nails to make sure there were no sharp or jagged edges. His head was tipped back and his hair was cleaned with the same soap that had been used on his body.
"I suppose your hair is interesting, even if you've hacked it off." She muttered under her breath as her fingers worked against his scalp, and Tommy couldn't help but relax into the touch even if his heart still thudded with apprehension. He was then pulled from the bath and dried off quickly before being pulled to a large table and laid out. A pot of that scented oil was opened and the old woman worked it into his skin, the scent filling Tommy's nostrils and relaxing him perhaps more than her touch. Her hands moved lightly over the scars on his back, as if she was practiced in this art, and Tommy realized she must be. How many slaves had the Pharaoh decided he wanted? What happened to them when they were no longer wanted? He tried not to think of that as the woman's fingers worked into his muscles, releasing knots that had been there for so long he forgot life without them.
When all of his skin was gleaming from the oil he was pulled to his feet again and dressed. Simple leather sandals were slipped onto his feet and a new cloth was wrapped around his waist. It was nowhere near as fine as the one he'd seen on the Pharaoh of course, but the linen was clean and didn't scratch Tommy's skin, and it felt luxurious. Thick kohl was drawn around his eyes, the black making his own eyes look impossibly dark and deep. He was given only one piece of jewellery to wear, a thin gold band that wrapped around his throat, resting just in the hollows of his collarbones.
"This is what all the slaves who go to him wear. No one else will touch you as long as you wear it. Pray that you wear it for a long time."
Tommy just nodded, still unable to find his voice. There was a lump in his throat, large and present and he could focus on little else as he watched the sun dropping lower in the sky through the small window in the room. Evening was coming, and he would soon be brought to the Pharaoh. What the Pharaoh wanted he could only guess, but his hand drifted to the gold band around his throat, and he did pray. Whatever the Pharaoh wanted, it couldn't be as bad as working in the hot sun, carrying impossibly heavy stones, and while Tommy may not believe in the gods, he prayed regardless, hoping that they believed in him.
- - -
In his sitting room, Adam was alone, sitting on a low wooden chair waiting for the slave to be brought to him. Next to him was a carafe of wine, and two goblets. He'd already drained one goblet of his own, fingers idly running around the edge of the glass. He was dressed much as he had been earlier, but he had removed the bulk of his jewellery, leaving only his heavy wrist cuffs and a few rings. The elaborate headdress of the Pharaoh had been replaced with a golden headband resembling a coiled snake resting on his thick, dark hair.
He heard a brisk knock at his door and settled his hands calmly in his lap before responding simply. "Send him in." The door opened, and Adam struggled to keep his face under control as the slave stepped in, shutting the door behind him. His hands were clasped behind his back, his eyes cast downward, perfectly submissive except for the obvious tension in his arms and the strong set of his shoulders. He was more beautiful now that he had been earlier, his skin gleaming and tan, his light hair now shining in the soft lamp light of the room. His shorn hair allowed Adam to see the collar around his throat clearly, and he felt the familiar stirrings in his belly from the sight.
"Come, kneel in front of me." Adam gestured slightly with his hand, and felt a smile tug at his lips as he watched the slave's internal struggle before he gave in and came to kneel before Adam. He poured the slave some wine, pushing the goblet into his hands, making it clear he was to drink it. The slave took a small sip, his face screwing up slightly at the strong taste, but he took another already beginning to relax. "Tell me your name. Where did you come from?"
The slave cleared his throat and licked his lips; it had obviously been some time since he'd been asked to speak. "Tommy. My name is Tommy. I come from a village some distance from here. I was dragged from my house in the middle of the night, along with my sister. I don't know what happened to her, but I think that it might be better that way." He looked up then, and Adam was taken aback not only at the honesty in his words, but also the blatant anger and pain splashed across his face.
"Tommy. I think you may be foolish, and your words are likely to get you in trouble." He reached a hand out to gently caress Tommy's cheek, hushing him when he flinched away. "No, I won't hurt you. And as long as you wear my collar, no one will trouble you. You interest me Tommy. I think you are a strong person, one who is not likely to be broken like my other slaves. Your defiance is different from theirs somehow, and I want to learn more about you." This time when Adam's fingers brushed Tommy's cheek, he didn't turn away. In fact, Adam thought he felt a nearly imperceptible press of Tommy's cheek against his hand, as if he wanted more.
"So, Tommy. Will you let me learn more about you? In turn, I will show you things about me that many do not know. I think you crave something that you do not even understand, and I can give it to you, if you let me. The first thing you must know, is that when we are alone, please call me Adam." Adam looked into Tommy's eyes, searching them. The moment it happened, the moment the defiance left Tommy's, and they became open and clear, Adam felt something stir inside him.
Tommy's voice was strong and determine as he spoke, holding Adam's eyes. "I will let you."
- - -
Tommy couldn't remember the last time that he'd been given a choice that truly felt like a choice. There was a large part of him that wanted to tell the Pharaoh no, wanted to turn and walk out of the room, give himself over to a short life of hard labour. But there was another part that looked into the Pharaoh's – into Adam's - eyes, and saw kindness and gentleness, and just a hint of something more dangerous. When he looked into those eyes, and agreed to let Adam in, to let him take care of him even, he felt something inside him let go. It felt like releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding; maybe he did crave something, and maybe Adam was the one to show him what that was.
Adam stood before him and he tipped his head up, suddenly feeling like a child kneeling in front of a statue. But then, Adam reached down for him, pulling him to his feet, and Tommy couldn't help but feel like the motion was symbolic. They would never be equals, not within these rooms and certainly not outside of them, but still Tommy felt that Adam pulling him to his feet meant something. He felt Adam's fingers twine through his own, surprisingly gentle and not even remotely demanding. He looked down at their hands, his own slender and rough against Adam's, strong, smooth and with its nails blackened with indigo. The contrast made his heart skip, though he didn't know why and when he lifted his eyes again it was to Adam's smiling face.
"Come with me, to the bedroom. When we are in there, we are the same. I am not the Pharaoh, and you are not my slave; we are simply Adam and Tommy. Yes?" The look on Adam's face was something that Tommy had never seen on the face of someone in a position of authority. It was still strong, there was no doubt, but underneath that there was hope, and something soft. Something that made Tommy think he could say no if he wanted to. He didn't want to, and he willingly followed Adam to the bedroom, eyes taking in the rooms around him, but always drifting back to the smooth skin of Adam's strong back.
The bedroom wasn't as grand as he would've expected, though it was certainly grander than anything Tommy had ever seen. There was little furniture, just a low bed, a large wooden chest and a table with a wash basin and ewer of water resting on it next to the bed. Tommy was already itching to feel the fine linens against his skin, to sink into the padding on the bed, having slept on nothing but the ground for so long.
"Tommy." Adam's voice pulled him out of his own head, and he turned to look at him, lips ready to utter a protest that he didn't deserve this, he wasn't worthy. As if Adam could hear his thoughts, he spoke again. "You are beautiful, Tommy. Believe that, beauty is something I do not lie about." Adam pulled him close, resting his hands lightly on Tommy's hips. He bent forward slowly, kissed Tommy gently on the lips.
Tommy froze for a moment at the touch of Adam's lips on his. Of course, he knew why Adam had brought him to his room, he'd know that from the moment the guard brought him to the baths. He closed his eyes and forced his brain to stop thinking about all the reasons that this was stupid and dangerous and wrong, and just gave himself over to it.
Adam's lips were as soft and supple as Tommy's were dry and sun-chapped, and they felt good. Tommy found himself kissing back, his lips parting to let Adam's tongue in, the smooth warmth of it making him moan softly in the back of his throat. Adam deepened the kiss and wrapped his arms tighter around Tommy's waist, pressing their bodies together from chest to knees. His chest felt hot against Tommy's, even though Tommy knew his own skin was overheated, and he leaned into that heat, letting his hands trail lightly up Adam's back.
It had been a long time since he'd felt the touch of another person in such an intimate way and he shuddered as Adam's hands moved around his waist to where the cloth was fastened over his hip. Adam's fingers moved swiftly, and Tommy sighed as he pressed forward, Adam's fingers digging harder into his hips. He dropped his own hands to Adam's waist, and though they shook as his fingers fumbled unfasten the closure on Adam's cloth, he felt a strange sense of pride when Adam was as naked as him.
Tommy traced his hands slowly back up Adam's back, laying his palms flat against the broad plane of his shoulder before tipping his head up to kiss him again, his heart pounding hard enough that he was sure Adam could feel it. The kiss was hungry, growing deep and hard. Their tongues tangled with one another, and Tommy lifted one hand to fist it in Adam's thick hair. He was growing greedy, demanding, and he hooked his leg around Adam's hip to bring their cocks together, a moan bubbling up in the back of his throat.
"Tommy." Adam spoke softly against Tommy's mouth, not wanting to pull too far away. "Go lay on the bed. I want more." Adam's voice was deep and throaty as he spoke, and Tommy felt a shudder run down his spine. He wanted whatever Adam would give him, whatever Adam wanted to take.
"I want more, I want everything." As soon as the words left his lips, Tommy's cheeks coloured and he dropped his head. Had he already forgotten who he was, and who the man in his arms was?
Adam kissed his forehead softly, hand rubbing a soothing circle on his back. "In this room, you can have everything you want, as long as you ask for it." He led Tommy to the bed and pushed him down to lay on his stomach, and Tommy groaned as his body sunk into the cushion. The padding wasn't thick, but Tommy was certain he'd never felt anything as smooth as the linens, and it took much of his willpower not to wriggle around on them, just to feel it.
Adam lay next to him and ran a hand softly down Tommy's back, fingers tracing along each scar left by the guard's whip. Tommy turned his head away from Adam, not wanting to see pity reflected there. He had deserved every one of those lashes, and he was not ashamed. He was startled when he felt Adam's lips against his back, following the path of his fingers. He kissed every single scar on Tommy's back, darting his tongue out the run along the ones that stood out more than the others. Tommy felt his breath grow quicker, finding the scars much more sensitive than he would've imagined. By the time Adam reached his lower back and the end of the scarred flesh, Tommy was near to panting, and his hips were pressing down into the bed for friction.
"Please." Tommy spoke, asking for something but not able to articulate what he wanted. "Please."
"Please what, Tommy?" Adam's hand kept moving over Tommy, sliding over his ass, down his thighs and back up until Tommy's skin felt like it was going to vibrate off his body.
"A-A...Adam, please." His hips arched up into Adam's hands and he turned his head to catch Adam's eye. He knew that his eyes must look wild and desperate, but he simply didn't have the words to ask for what he wanted. He needed Adam to see that in his eyes, to give him what he needed.
- - -
When Tommy turned his head to face him, Adam's heart nearly stopped. His face was nearly heart-breakingly beautiful in this moment, all the anger from earlier smoothed out and replaced with naked want. His eyes were glassy, and Adam would swear he could see fire burning behind the deep brown. He realized how much it had taken for Tommy to ask for anything at all, to use Adam's name, and he wasn't going to play games tonight.
He ran his hand down Tommy's spine one more time, leaning down to whisper soft and soothing things into his ear. When he sat back up, he reached to the small table beside the bed and retrieved a small pot. After opening and slicking his fingers with the contents, he nudged Tommy's legs apart until he could kneel between them.
"Remember Tommy, you can always tell me to stop." He circled one of his slick fingers around Tommy's hole for a few moments, listening to the sound Tommy was making. He knew that Tommy was unlikely to stop him, and he didn't want to hurt him. Adam gently pushed his finger in, and was surprised by Tommy's reaction. His hips immediately pushed back, seeking more and Adam gave it to him. One finger quickly became two, and two became three and the way that Tommy was moaning and writhing beneath Adam made him never want to stop, wanted to bring Tommy to his peak using nothing but his fingers. Adam closed his eyes, the visual of that flashing through his head and bringing a choked gasp out of his mouth. Reluctantly, he pulled out his fingers, the whine that spilled from Tommy's lips making his cock twitch.
He smeared the oil from the pot over his cock and was moving to lay over Tommy when he felt a hand grabbing back at him. He stopped, sitting back on his heels to allow Tommy to turn to face him. "I want...to see you. This way." Tommy rolled over on to his back, letting his legs fall wantonly to the side and once again Adam was struck by the slave's beauty. He was all heavy-lidded eyes and swollen lips, and stretched out before Adam like this it was like he was a perfect sacrifice.
Adam moved forward again, lining his cock up with Tommy's hole and pushing in, slow but firm. Tommy's body gave way beneath him easily, and Adam shuddered at the feeling. With each thrust he worked himself in deeper until his hips were slapping against Tommy's each time. He was moving slow, making sure that both of them were feeling every second of this, as if he could burn it into their minds as long as he didn't move too fast.
Beneath him, Tommy's body arched and curved like a cats, his legs wrapped tightly around Adam's waist. Adam could see Tommy's cock, hard against his belly and his fingers ached to touch it. He leaned down to kiss Tommy, their mouths open, the kiss filthy and messy as they panted and moaned. When he pulled back it was only because he needed to feel Tommy's cock in his hand, his fingers wrapping smoothly around it and stroking it in time with the slow thrusts he was making into Tommy's body.
They moved together easily, like it was practiced. Tommy's leg hitching up just perfectly, Adam's hips rolling at exactly the right moment, their voices rising and falling in near perfect unison. His mind might have been filled with ideas of soulmates and of meant to be, but as the Pharaoh he was no longer entitled to such fanciful things, and so he let his mind drift until it settled on Tommy.
Beneath him, he felt Tommy begin to shake, his breath going in gasps and coming out in breathy moans. Adam wrapped his hand tighter around Tommy's cock and pushed into him harder and faster until he felt Tommy come apart in his arms. Tommy was beautiful in the moment, head tossed back, throwing the collar around his neck into sharp relief as he came. His body arched up against Adam, pulling his cock impossibly deeper and that was enough to send Adam tumbling down after him. He dropped his head to Tommy's throat, digging his teeth into the soft flesh as he rode out his orgasm, hips gradually growing still against Tommy's.
- - -
They lay there in silence for a few minutes, heart rates slowing to normal before Adam climbed out of the bed. Tommy rolled over to watch him, staying quiet as he watched Adam go through something that resembled a ritual. He knelt next to the small table near the bed and removed each piece of jewellery he was wearing, carefully placing it on a cloth. He then dipped a cloth into the water and wiped away the heavy kohl from around his eyes. Tommy was frankly fascinated, and he felt as though he was seeing something he shouldn't. Adam dipped another cloth in the water, and turned to Tommy with a soft smile on his face as he gestured to him.
Tommy moved across the bed until he was laying right at the edge, and he gasped as the cool cloth touched his belly. Adam cleaned him meticulously, running the cloth over every inch of his stomach, and gently between his legs. It was oddly soothing, and Tommy's eyes were drifting shut by the time Adam moved the cloth away and replaced it with his warm hand resting gently on Tommy's stomach.
"I would like you to stay with me tonight. I think that I would like you to stay with me most nights, but tonight especially." Tommy noticed that this wasn't really a request or a question, but it didn't have to be. He would never have said no, and Adam, knew that. Tommy shifted back across the bed to make room for Adam who climbed in after blowing out the lamps, sending the room into near total darkness.
Adam's strong arms wrapped around Tommy's, one hand searching until it could twine its fingers with Tommy's. That hand rested just below Tommy's neck, and the edge of the collar he wore was cool against his fingers. For the first time in a very long time, Tommy felt genuinely safe and protected, like nothing could hurt him as long as he was right here.
He could never love the Pharaoh, their statuses made even the thought of that foolish, but he was already grateful to him. There was a large part of him that remained wary, worried that the situation was too good to be true, but he pushed it aside. For a man like Tommy, safety was a commodity that could be bought and sold and if the Pharaoh saw something in Tommy worth saving, who was he to argue?
As he slept that night, which he hoped would be the first of many, Tommy found himself dreaming of the gods he had not given thought to since he was a child. Perhaps they did believe in him after all.