Out of Context
The forces of King Alexander were in high spirits as they started their conquest of Asia. Only a month ago they left the gates of Babylon. Though they had done so quite reluctantly. The beautiful city had more than captivated many of the men.
But as General Cleitus walked through camp, he could see that the men did not miss Babylon too severely. Amiable chatter and loud laughter could be heard around many of the fires.
Unfortunately the General could not stop and join in the merriment with the men. He was on his way to the King's tent, in order to discuss a matter with him.
"Joy to you, Cleitus." He heard someone call from behind him.
He turned to find Ptolemy approaching him.
"Joy to you, Ptolemy." He smiled.
The younger general said to him, "I was just going to the King's tent."
"It seems you will have some company, for I too was just making my way there."
The two companions walked silently beside each other. They reached the royal tent, but were not observant enough at that moment to notice that the guards were standing farther away from the tent than was normal.
One of the guards opened his mouth, as if about to say something to the generals as they were walking by. But all it took was one look from Cleitus and he quickly shut his mouth. Many of the men feared the black general.
Cleitus chuckled under his breath at the young man that almost attempted to stop him. All he had to do was narrow his black eyes and tighten his mouth, and men would cower, retreat with their tails between their legs. Tonight he had no patience for guards who thought they knew everything.
Maybe if the General would have thought a little bit, he would have listened to the guard. But he was very tired and wasn't using his head, or at least that is the excuse that he would tell himself later.
The two men entered the main chamber of the tent. They found it completely empty.
Cleitus looked to his comrade. Ptolemy shrugged. The King must be about the camp. The two made to sit down and wait. But both froze when they heard a voice come from the inner chamber of the tent.
"Ow! OW! Xander!"
The generals' heads whipped around to look at the closed off area of the tent.
"What?" They heard the unmistakable voice of their King respond.
"Get OFF!" The two intruders slowly turned their gazes to each other with eyebrows raised, as they came to recognize the other voice.
"What are you talking about?" Alexander demanded.
"You're on it!" Hephaistion said in a pained voice.
"I am not!"
"I think I would know whether or not you were Xander!" Hephaistion responded angrily.
Cleitus and Ptolemy exchanged awkward glances.
'Are they talking about what I think they are talking about' thought Cleitus.
"Oops. You're right. Sorry." Alexander said.
Hephaistion let out a sigh of relief.
"You almost pulled it off." He said
"Quit being so dramatic."
"You were laying right on top of it!"
"Well maybe if you didn't let it just lay where ever."
"It's not as if I can control it!"
Cleitus bit back a laugh.
"Maybe you should be more careful." Hephaistion demanded.
"You're right. What would we do without it?"
"It is one of your favorite parts of me."
"Yes. It's right up there with that tight arse of yours."
The generals could hear hushed laughter from the inner chamber, as both of their expressions became increasingly uncomfortable.
"Zeus' balls that hurt!"
"I'm sorry. Would it help if I rubbed it?"
"Maybe."
And at that Cleitus and Ptolemy left the tent, as fast as they could.
.-.-.-.-.-.
Alexander softly stroked Hephaistion's hair.
"Were trying to make me a bald old man before my time, Xander?" the general teased with a grin.
"I'm sorry, Phai. I honestly didn't realize I was lying on your hair."
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