Disclaimer: I do not own anything in the below piece of fiction- Capcom and the historical past do.
Warning: Male/Male sex, violence, mentions of suicide, and boring politics
Authors Note: So I wrote this for the lovely Kaeari who requested that I write Wesker and Chris in a different setting outside of the RE universe. She suggested a prince/slave setting, but I decided to go and be typical and write them in a time period I adore- ancient Rome. There will be a lot of historical things in this so if you get confused or want to know more about something, do not hesitate to ask me. The setting is before the assassination of Gaius Julius Caesar, and goes all the way up to the rise of the Roman empire. Of course it also involves Chris and Wesker in a romantic setting, so I hope you enjoy that! The story will be in 2 parts, and the next part will be posted in 10 days, so please stay tuned!
Walking through the crowds, Albert found himself stepping over a broken pot, muddy puddles filled with cow manure and straw, and a bushel of stomped and destroyed grapes, all while seamlessly avoiding the gazes of those looking for an impromptu meeting with him. Ducking past the raised arm of a herald, he gave the man a reproachful look as he passed before turning his attention down the cobbled street, once again weaving through as the smell of smoke, sweat, and animals.
Nearing the large, richly decorated building, Albert studied the tall pillars that were gleaming at the top but sullied at the bottom, neck craning slightly as he neared the building but refused to look away from the place he had begun to call home. He found himself heading to the building more and more often, his white toga wrapped firmly around his lithe frame every morning as he got ready to do what all Roman citizens should do—talk politics.
Finally returning his attention to the steps in front, Albert placed his sandaled feet on the smooth, once-clean surface, turning his back on the busy and crowded forum romanum, the roar of the cattle carts and boisterous conversations slowly diminishing as he passed the first set of pillars, the morning sunlight becoming grey and muted as cold air crept along his skin. A reprieve from the almost suffocating heat one could experience in the forum itself.
Nearing the large, double wooden doors, he paused before entering, seeing three of his fellow senators talking together, their poses relaxed and confident, but their eyes betraying another story. Glancing at the doors once more, Albert surmised the congregation had not started yet, and moved over to the three men.
"Hello, Aquila, Spurius, and Brutus," Albert said, nodding at the three men as they stopped speaking and turned to face them. Spurius was the first to smile, his pudgy face betraying the lavish lifestyle he had become accustomed to.
"Hello, Albert," he said, beady eyes roaming over his form for a moment. "A nice day, is it not?"
"It is, it is," he replied, gaze flicking to the young Brutus as he stood beside the two of them, his mouth turned upwards in a barely-there smile.
"I would be even better if we didn't have to hear the loud sound of stone masons working away over there," Aquila grouched, the wrinkles that were etched across his face growing deeper as he frowned. "I'm getting sick of this new construction."
"Well, you can blame Caesar for that," Brutus chimed in, voice soft and words well-spoken as he stood between the older men. Albert gave him a quick study, trying to gauge his emotions through all of the false idle chatter, but found it impossible to get past the subtle smile that was always playing at his lips.
"Caesar's forum will be done in a few more months, do stop complaining about it," Spurius stated, his fingers going to pinch the bridge of his nose in what appeared to be an attempt to stave off a headache.
"Careful, Spurius," Albert began, his hand clutching the white fabric that was draped over his arm. "If your headache is just beginning I believe you'll be in rough shape sooner than usual."
"Oh, don't remind me that the day has just begun," he said, giving Albert a stern look before a smile cracked upon his face once more. "Although I heard some good news that may be giving you a few headaches in due time—is it true that another child is on the way?"
Nodding, Albert shifted once more, the weight of the situation bearing down on him again. "Yes, Excella is once again with child. We hope this time it will be a son."
"You don't seem happy about it," Brutus stated, an eyebrow raised as Albert once again put on the emotionless face he wore so well before. Brutus' ability to read even the stiffest of statues was unnerving, and his ability to don the robes of a naïve young man despite being quick as a snake made Albert distrust him. But two could play that game, and Albert had become accustomed to deceiving him and others around him through well-placed comments and calculated facial movements.
"I am happy that another child is on the way, but that is that. Should I feel anything more?" he asked, head cocked to the side ever so slightly as the two of them studied each other.
"No… No, I suppose not," Brutus finally said, relaxing a fraction before turning his attention to someone behind him.
Striding up the steps was Mark Antony and Cicero, a grim expression on both of their faces. Smirking to himself, Albert watched as Antony turned his attention immediately to the three of them, his face brightening as he moved away from Cicero, the contempt they felt for each other radiating off of them even as Antony neared them and distanced himself from the chickpea. Albert never really knew why Antony hated Cicero so much (he suspected it was because of a woman; it was always about a woman with Antony), but revelled in the rivalry that blossomed between them.
Albert was not fond of Antony at the best of times, his manners crude and crass and his knowledge of the political world about as large as a grape. He was a solider, through and through, and although Albert was not fond of him, he did not underestimate the man's ability to lead an army. Unfortunately, though, Antony had not been on campaign for some time, and was instead stationed in Rome to look after the city while Caesar was away. This meant that Antony spent most of his time lounging in the dining halls, drinking too much wine, and fucking away the day with his newest love interest, a freed slave named Cythera. Disgusting…
But the contempt he felt for Antony was nothing compared to the loathing he felt for Cicero. The man was too full of himself and flip-flopped between what side he was going take. While the civil war was taking place he fled the city, leaving his daughter and wife alone in Rome while he debated which side he would choose, trying to avoid committing himself until the end. Near the end he picked a side—the wrong one, of course. He chose Pompey, a mistake he soon regretted. Now he was once again a member of the senate after pitifully sucking up to Caesar after he promised to accept all those who came to him in peace. A weak and foolish move. Now there was a fox among the chickens, waiting to strike.
"Ah, my dear men, how are you this fine morning?" Antony asked, and Albert could see the bags under his eyes as he approached them, his gate steady while trying to put on a good show of being only half drunk from the previous night's exploits.
"We are doing well," Brutus said, cutting Aquila off before he could begin grousing about the masons once more. "Wesker here was just telling us that his wife is with child again."
Giving him a lewd look, Antony raised an eyebrow at Albert. "Took time away from fucking your slave boys to show the beautiful Excella the wonders of what married life could be like?"
Reigning in his temper, Albert smiled softly instead, although it appeared forced as he turned to look at Antony. "I only give pleasure to my wife—I suggest you do the same."
Laughing, Antony slapped Albert hard on the back. "I'm not married, and for that exact reason! Why deny yourself pleasures in order to live a life of servitude?"
"Are you honestly unwilling to wed?" asked Brutus.
"You ask me that as if you don't already know the answer," Antony said, shaking his head before glancing over his shoulder at the large double doors. "I never thought I'd say this, but I believe we should get to work."
Giving Antony a bland stare, Albert simply nodded in agreement, wishing the conversation to be over as soon as it had come. His sexual… preference was not unknown among the men, but to have Antony put it so crassly and announce it so publicly made him feel ruffled—even more so than when he had seen Brutus, Aquila, and Spurius speaking so… intimately.
Leading the way to the doors, Albert gave the forum one last look—a longing stare into freedom before he had to be stuck in a room with moronic, pompous fools—when something caught his eye. Pausing just a moment, he watched as a group of young men walked through the forum; worn cotton tunics resting across their broad shoulders and belts tied tightly around their waists, their hands seemingly poised over swords that had long since been placed in a corner to rest. They looked like soldiers who had been let off duty for a time—their general was probably stationed back in Rome, meaning they had some time off. They seemed as if they were common plebs, but their gaits and postures betrayed their career. Losing them for a moment as they walked past a pillar, Albert waited for them to reappear between the pillars directly in front of him, wanting to catch a glimpse of them again.
Rewarded once more, he watched them out of the corner of his eye as he and his fellow senators were stopped at the door. One of the soldiers kept Albert's gaze, his features intriguing him. He was tall and tanned, his hard work keeping him outside for most of the time, while his short cropped brown hair shone under the ever increasing sunlight. A smile seemed to continually tug at his lips, and Albert found himself wanting to see it once more before he had turned and continued down a path that kept his back to him. Soon he and the others were lost among the crowed, leaving Albert restless.
"Are you alright?" Aquila asked, boney fingers locking around his arm carefully. Turning his attention to him at once, Albert eased back into his own self and nodded.
"Yes, I am fine. Simply pondering the day's topics," he stated, and his lie seemed to have worked because Aquila was once again frowning as he turned slightly to look at the construction just a short ways away.
"Yes, pondering the day's topics… It had better involve those masons," he grumbled as they all stepped into the circular hall.
**XX**
For the next week, Albert was unable to keep the image of the young man out of his mind. He hated how he had become so easily infatuated with some solider he had seen for but a moment in the forum, but try as he might he couldn't get rid of the gnawing feeling in his mind that prevented him from doing any real work. It infuriated him to know he was just as susceptible to a handsome face as Antony seemed to be. While he was more subtle about it, it was the exact same thing, and Albert wanted to flog himself for such trivial thoughts.
Of course, he tried not to let his new found distraction show, going through the motions of senatorial work while conducting the business affairs of his household as he always had. But everything was done with thoughts of the sun-kissed soldier lurking in the shadows.
"You've been preoccupied," Excella said, her hand resting on her stomach, gold rings reflecting off of the sunlight from the front door. Pausing halfway out of it, Albert raised an eyebrow, wondering why she was bringing this up as he was headed to a meeting at Lucanus' house.
"Why do you say that?" he asked, stopping his slave from walking too far ahead with a flick of the wrist.
"I've just noticed you've been staring off into space when you're working in your study. Usually you're so focused on what you're doing you hardly hear anyone when they call you directly," she said, hand leaving the developing bump to instead play with one of the long curls of her dark black hair.
"I am fine. Perhaps I am thinking too hard about the possibility of a son," he said, and he knew she did not believe him as her kohl-rimmed eyes narrowed slightly.
"Perhaps…" she said after a time, turning to return to the house. "I will see you for dinner?"
"Yes, you will," he said, nodding at the slave to continue forward as he left the house, the doors closing behind him as they stepped into the courtyard. One of the servants led a large, black horse towards them, but Albert stopped their approach with another flick of the wrist before continuing towards the gate. He needed a good long walk to clear his head.
Excella knew—she always knew what was really going on with him. They hadn't married out of love, but it wasn't as if anyone did. It was all about politics when it came to marriage. Sleep with and admire the one you love, but marry the one who will get you where you needed to go. Excella had come from a strong Roman line, her family having been members of the elite upper class for generations. They claimed that they were part of the original few who had founded Rome along with Romulus, but proof of such claims were lost to the past. Albert was lucky to have married into such a strong line.
While he was fully Roman, as was his father and his before him, his ancestors had hailed from Gaul. They had moved into Roman territory when it was first expanding and integrated themselves deeply into the political world due to trade connections, earning themselves a place among the elite after those around them forgot that they were 'barbarians'. Soon enough, as marriages were sealed and new generations were created, the Wesker line had become fully Roman—no longer were they Gauls masquerading as ones. But despite this, Albert still felt as if his political career was threatened by his ancestry, especially after the Roman Republic waged war on the barbarians to the North. He was Roman, but not all would look past his fair skin and light hair so readily. And so he married into Excella's family, connecting himself to one of the oldest Roman bloodlines around to destroy any possible threat to his political career.
It had worked well enough. His senatorial position was as strong as ever, and before Caesar had become so influential he had been slowly inching his way closer to the position of consul. But now there were rumours surfacing that Caesar was planning on declaring himself dictator once again…
"Are you alright, my lord?" his servant asked. Realizing he had once again become lost in his own thoughts, Albert nodded, forgetting that it was probably not the man's place to ask in the first place. Increasing his pace down the twisting streets, he greeted those who greeted him first, and paused only to let a cart pass. Reaching one of the markets, he kept his slave close as they traveled through the stalls, taking the shorter but busier route to Lucanus' house. Many of the nobility wished to stay clear of the common areas of the city, but Albert did not and instead found himself often going to the common markets to catch some of the gossip that slid through the lips of the people on a regular basis.
It was always good to know what the plebs thought about Rome, and occasionally to know who was having an affair with whom. Albert was never above using blackmail to get what he wanted.
Returning his attention once more to the task at hand, Albert continued through the market, avoiding a man carrying a carpet through the stalls all while going over what he was going to say to Lucanus in their meeting—he sincerely hoped that no one else was going to be there. He hated having to keep appearances up at all times, and Lucanus knew what Albert was really like—embracing it, even. Some were turned off by Albert's cold, calculating behaviour, but he knew it was a necessity for his line of work. Show your weakness for but a moment and anyone could strike your weak spot and—
Narrowly avoiding the flying body of a man, Wesker stumbled back as another man was tossed out of a brothel, the smell of sex, wine, and incense following them out. Bracing his hand on his servant as he stumbled back, the slave almost dropped his wax tablet but managed to hold onto it as the men began to pick themselves up from the dirt floor.
"Ah, fuck you, you fucking cunt! We weren't doing anything wrong!" One of the men picked himself up faster than the other, and headed back to the brothel, yelling at one of the courtesans who was still standing in the entrance way, hands on her hips, breasts hanging out of her translucent dress while the skirt stuck to her skin, the air of the brothel thick and hot.
"Maybe if you learned not to hit one of us and obey the rules we wouldn't have had to kick you out, you fucking pig! It's not our fault you're a sick bastard," she yelled back, and the man looked like he was going to hit her before the other one stood up from the ground and grabbed his arm, yanking him back.
"Reign in your temper, Lucius," he growled out, knuckles going white as he squeezed down on Lucius' arm. A tense moment passed before Lucius stepped back from what would have been a losing fight, the bodyguards in the brothel having stepped forward.
"You're lucky you've got someone watching your back," Lucius said to the woman. She simply scoffed at him, her tangled hair giving her a crazed look as she stared the man down.
"We should leave," his friend said, voice soft but dangerous, and at that moment Albert finally turned his attention away from the yelling drunk to inspect his companion. Steel grey met deep blue, and Albert held back any sign of shock as the familiar face of the man from the forum appeared before him. He looked wild close up, the life of a solider appearing deep in his eyes. He was on guard, both in body and mind as the two of them stared, unable to look away before the soldier finally broke their gaze, a subtle blush appearing on his cheeks while his eyebrows furrowed.
"I swear I did not hit her, Chris," Lucius said, voice now pleading as the two men walked away, disappearing quickly through the crowed. Shifting a little, Albert caught the man turning to look over his shoulder once before he was lost.
"Are you alright, my lord?" the servant asked, and Albert spared him a glance before stepping forward, ignoring the calls from the brothel as women tried to get him to come in, life in the lower streets once again returning to normal. Weaving through the crowds, Albert repeated the name he had heard over again, rolling the syllables around in his mouth as he continued forward.
Chris…
**XX**
"I've always found these sorts of events terribly boring," Brutus said, disguising a yawn behind his hand. Leaning against a bright red pillar, Albert nodded but did not say anything, instead preferring to listen to the hum of conversations around him.
Caesar had returned from a diplomatic trip in Gaul, and everyone was eager to speak to the man who had put himself at the top of the pack. But, of course, there were requirements that had to be met, and in the hustle and bustle of trying to schedule a senate meeting, Atia, Caesar's niece and mother of the young Octavian, had managed to set up a dinner party the night before the first senate meeting was set. In doing so, she had managed to make the event one of the most talked about parties in Rome, and numerous people wanted to get in, hoping to be able to speak to Caesar for just a moment.
Excella knew about the dinner party before most people did, her fingers in every gossip circle around Palatine Hill, and managed to convince Atia to place them on the guest list before anyone else knew. Albert knew there was a good reason he had married her.
Of course dinner parties such as these were filled with pointless conversations, and Albert did his best to work the room, Excella gracing his side as they passed through conversations, easing into the different tempos of conversation until eventually they had spoken to everyone they could possibly think of. After dinner, drinks were had, and conversations once again began, but this time the lighting was darker and the mood more intimate. When this time arrived, Albert took the chance to step back from it all to listen to what other people were saying—really listen. Everything had a double meaning in the Republic.
"Have you spoken to Caesar yet?" he asked, ignoring Brutus' obvious boredom with the party. He had seen Caesar a few times throughout the evening, and had a short but uninteresting conversation with him. He was waiting for Caesar to make another move in the senate—it was far too early to come to any solid, unified idea of what his plans were. Rumours were spreading that he was going to attempt to try and declare himself dictator for life, others saying he was preparing to give land to the veterans, while some said he had decided to retire and live the rest of his life in peace—a move Sulla pulled off only years ago.
Either way, Albert was wary but ready to react should Caesar threaten the Republic.
"No, not really… Mother has, of course," he said, sipping some of his wine as his gaze wandered to watch Servilia, who was sitting a short distance away, her hair pulled up in a magnificent crest, golden leaves adorning it.
Servilia and Caesar were in love. It was true love, some said. Albert saw the way they looked at each other, and he could almost feel the yearning. It was a feeling Albert had never experienced himself, and yet he knew how strong a man Caesar must be to resist temptation in order to fulfill his political duties. They weren't married, and never would be. Once again, love was not what made a marriage.
"Did she learn anything of interest?" he asked, seeming uninterested but honestly curious about what sort of conversation they may have had. Servilia was no fool, and Caesar trusted her… Perhaps too much.
"Not that I know of," Brutus said. It was worth a try. "Although I heard an interesting story the other day…"
Raising a brow, Albert turned his attention away from Servilia to see Brutus smiling at him, eyes heavy-lidded from the amount of wine he had consumed. Interested, but also weary, Albert let Brutus have his moment. "A few weeks ago I heard you were visiting a brothel down where the plebs frequent."
Not knowing how to handle it, Albert paused for a moment, at a loss for words—for once. He had mostly forgotten about the events down in the market district, having been caught up in some tiresome squabbles in the senate. He had even forgotten about the young solider, Chris, for the most part, although occasionally thoughts of the battle-scarred man would enter his mind when he had time for reflection. "Where did you hear that?"
"From Antony, of course. He said a story started to spread through his ranks and eventually reached him—two of them saw you. Or maybe three… Perhaps four. It depends on the person you ask and what version of the story you hear," Brutus said, a smile on his lips as he teased him.
"How do you know that was me?" he asked, not denying it… just yet.
"A description was given. A man of upper class status, high cheekbones, and light blond hair. Might be from Gaul. There is only one senator who looks like that."
Sighing, Albert took a small, calculated sip from his wine cup before replying, his attention going back to the room. "I was near the brothels a few weeks ago, I will not deny that. But not for the purpose you believe it to be. I was cutting through when my scribe and I got caught in the middle of a brawl in front of the brothel. Nothing more than that—ask Lucanus if you don't believe me."
"No need to explain yourself to me," Brutus said, still smiling. "Just remember that people have been talking about it. Perhaps you should be more careful as to where you get caught in a brawl next time."
Smirking, Albert nodded once. "True enough. Thank you for the information, though." It was always good to know gossip; especially when it was about you, and especially if it gave you valuable information on mysterious soldiers. So Chris was one of Antony's men…
He didn't have time to dwell, though, before Excella approached them, a smile on her lips as she gazed at Brutus. "Ah, Brutus, how has the evening been treating you?"
"Fine, my dear. And yourself?"
"Well enough," she said. "But I fear our night is almost done."
Taking that as a sign she was ready to go, Albert placed his cup down on one of the many surfaces around, and held his arm out for her to take. "I will see you tomorrow, Brutus," he said as Excella pressed herself close.
"Yes, we shall. And Excella, do take care."
Leading her away, they said their goodbyes to those important enough before leaving. Albert kept an eye out for Caesar, but noticed both he, Octavian, and Atia were missing. Excella insisted they leave right away, though, suddenly feeling faint, and Albert had no choice but to fulfil her request. Of course when they returned to their house, she wasted no time in telling him all of the gossip she had heard, that unfortunately mostly dealt with the women around her. Who was sleeping with who, which slave had tried to steal a few jewels—stories that were as common for the upper class as broken skulls were for soldiers.
But then she said something of note when they had climbed into bed. "Servilia tells me that Caesar is taking quite an interest in Octavian."
Raising a brow, Albert turned around in the bed to face her back. "What for?"
"She didn't say, just that the two have been getting closer. Someone suggested that Octavian has been sleeping with Caesar, but I find the idea of that most unlikely. Octavian has about as much charm as a limp fish."
Suddenly things had become a lot more interesting.
**XX**
"I believe you owe me an apology."
He had obviously startled the young man, and watched with some amusement as the soldier dropped the small wooden cup he had been holding onto the warn table in front of him. "I-I'm sorry, sir?"
Sitting down in the market bar, Albert ignored the filth on the floor and the curious looks of the people around him, and instead stared straight ahead at Chris. He hadn't intended to run into the man, having figured that the likelihood of ever running into him again was incredibly low—but it seemed that fate had different plans. He had been returning from another meeting, and once again decided to cut through the plebeian sections, trying to catch up with the latest rumours. Caesar was beginning to make the whole city hum. But upon his return he saw Chris sitting in a bar, a cup in his hand as he sat near the entrance. The lighting was low, but Albert knew it was him as soon as he saw his eyes peeking out over the mug.
Unable to resist, he finally approached.
"I am the senator whom you saw outside of the brothel a few weeks ago."
Obviously Chris remembered, for the blush that Albert thought he had seen outside the brothel was once again present, only this time it was hidden by his dark skin and the low light. "Er, yes… Yes, I guess you are."
Unimpressed with his answer, Albert was tempted to leave, wondering what had drawn him to the man in the first place. Handsome, yes, but his intelligence was lacking. But then Chris did something that made Albert pause once more.
"I'm sorry for that mix up, though. I wasn't the one to spread the rumour. Lucius has a knack for telling stories in order to get himself a little bit of attention—I keep telling him to keep his mouth shut but he can't resist licking a few arses in order to get someone talking about him." Chris' spiel, although crass and uncouth, charmed Albert for some strange reason. Rarely had anyone talked to him in such an upfront manner, and he enjoyed the brashness of him—it was refreshing. But then he did one more thing that surprised him again. "Did you want a drink? I don't have a lot of coin on me, but I have enough for one more cup of watered down wine. A token of my apology."
Not missing a beat, Albert shook his head. "No, that is quite all right, but I appreciate the sentiment. Although if you would really like to make it up to me, perhaps you would do me the honour of having you come to my place for some wine—I assure you it is of much better quality than anything you could find here."
Something about this man captured Albert's imagination, and he wanted to hear him speak a little more, perhaps tell him some stories of life in the army… Not to mention, knowing one of Antony's soldiers in a more intimate manner may pay off in the long run. There was no telling what he knew, and if Chris continued to be so brash then perhaps he could learn quite a lot. As well, Albert enjoyed hearing his voice, despite it being rough and deeper than what he was used to.
Chris seemed to have been caught off guard, eyes wide and mouth slightly slack. "Uh… I mean, aren't you a senator?"
"Yes… and this matters why?"
"I mean… Well, look at me," he said, sitting back to show off what Albert thought to be a very broad and nice chest. "I'm just a soldier, sir, and I don't want to disrespect, but I have a feeling I won't be much of a guest."
"Nonsense," he said, waving his hand for one of his servants to approach. "Stay with him and lead him back to the house once he is ready," he instructed the young slave as he stood up and dusted off his robes. The slave went to stand beside Chris, and Albert watched with some amusement as he looked over his shoulder, mouth still open, to stare quizzically at the slave.
"Where are you going?" he asked, turning his attention back to Albert, who was now leaving the small hole in the wall.
"Back to my house—I have a few things to attend to before you arrive. When you're ready, just tell him so and he'll escort you," he instructed before leaving, not even waiting to see if Chris would agree. They always agreed—one way or another.
**XX**
Lounging on one of the couches, Albert plucked a grape off of the little table where fresh fruits, cheeses, dried meats, and wine had been placed. Rolling the grape between his fingers, he admired the glassy red colour before popping it in his mouth. Turning his attention back to the stoic man on the other couch across from him, Albert raised a brow.
Chris had arrived a little while later, just in time for the late afternoon snacks to appear. He seemed to have cleaned himself up a bit, but it probably amounted to him simply dunking his head in a well of water on his way over. When he arrived, he tried to keep his eyes ahead of where he was going, but Albert could see him admiring the frescos on the walls and the ferns and palms growing in the outer courtyard. When he had reached the dining area that was underneath the open ceiling, he sat down on one of the lounge chairs and seemed afraid to do anything.
Letting him take it all in, Albert offered him some wine and food, but for the most part let him sit and look around, figuring he hadn't been in a place quite as lavish as this one.
"So your name is Chris, right?" Albert asked after a time, picking up another grape as Chris turned his attention away from one of the slaves who was fanning them with a large ostrich feather. Albert hated having them around the house, but Excella insisted.
"Oh… Well, yes, yes it is. Chris Redfield," he said, playing with his drinking cup. "How did you know?"
"I heard it outside of the brothel when you were thrown out," he said, an amused smile tugging at his lips as Chris once again began to fidget.
"Once again, I am sorry you had to see that, sir. As I said, my friend can get a little carried away…"
"What were you doing there?" he asked, curious to know what sort of people Chris liked to bed.
Raising a brow, Chris finally locked eyes with Albert. "I was… Well, I was relaxing a little. General Antony's legion has been stuck in Rome for so long now that we have nothing to do while we wait for something to happen. Eventually you get bored and… Well, the brothel is a good place to relax."
"I never relaxed much when I visited such establishments in my youth," Albert drawled out, once again smirking as Chris looked startled. "Of course, I never went to any of the places you probably went to. We have brothels up here, but the men and women there are of… higher standard."
"O-Of course," he said, bowing his head down to look at his cup. Albert surmised he probably hadn't even seen a proper drinking cup with such an elaborate bottom before, and might be admiring the delicate painting through the thin amount of liquid that still rested at the bottom.
"How long have you been a soldier for?" he asked, curious about the army. It was something he knew about in a political way, but he had never actually spoken to any other soldiers about their times in the army. He wanted to take advantage of this opportunity, in case Chris decided to leave out of sheer intimidation. These men could face death head on, but when put in a situation involving the upper class and social customs, they looked as scared as a child in front of a raging bull.
"Nine years and six months," he said quickly, as if he had counted the days from the beginning. "Of course, I'm not a member right now, due to numerous factors. But I hope to sign up again once forces are needed. Not that I'm saying I want there to be another war, but… Well, money is getting tight and I do odd jobs to get by, but sometime soon I'd like to get back out there."
"What is it about the army life that you like?" Albert asked, interrupting Chris as he once again made move to apologise for his rambling. Albert liked it.
Shrugging, Chris sipped his wine before placing it back on the table. He reached for a piece of dried meat, but looked at Albert first to make sure it was okay. Nodding, he watched Chris pick it up and chew it before replying. "I like it because I am good at it."
Snorting, Albert rolled his eyes. "An obvious answer, but not the full truth," he said, reading Chris like a book. "Tell me why you really like it."
"I… I enjoy the power it gives me," he finally admitted. "I like the rush I get from stepping onto the field, knowing I am going to win because I am a member of the Roman army—we never lose. Growing up as a plebeian, you don't have a lot of freedom or say in how the republic works, but when you join the army you feel like you're part of the force that drives Rome and her cities."
"And?"
"…And?"
Smirking, Albert shrugged and turned his attention to the food in front of him. He would press further later. "Have you ever had a pomegranate?"
"N-No, I cannot say that I have," he said, once again checking the open space around them. Albert could tell he was looking for any danger. A soldier through and through.
"Try some," he said, sitting up. Picking up half of the fruit, Albert picked a few seeds off before going to sit beside Chris, his thin, white fingers grasping Chris' arm to pull it close. Feeling the hard muscle under his grasp, Albert was surprised when he met no resistance, and easily pulled his arm close to drop three seeds in the broad, calloused palm.
"Thank you," Chris mumbled, taking his hand back slowly, his eyes downcast on the seeds. Watching his face, Albert waited for him to taste one of the seeds, pleased when the small red berry passed his thin lips.
"How does it taste?" he asked, gaze flicking down to his throat as he swallowed, watching the muscles flex and then relax.
"Subtle," Chris said, playing with the other side between his fingers. "I heard this fruit was a gift from Venus… I can see why she would like to share it with our sorry arses."
Albert couldn't help but laugh at that, once again charmed by his rather blunt way of speaking. "The gods in times seem to enjoy gracing us pitiful humans with some of their more wonderful things, this is true."
He could see Chris smile as well, before he turned to look at Albert. Startled by their close proximity, he seemed to shy away for a moment, pulling back a fraction as if he knew not what to do. Albert stayed where he was, reading Chris' face carefully. Deep set eyes, strong jawline, thin lips, a scar running past his left ear all the way to the tip of his chin—a deep slash against his cheek. Wanting to reach out and touch it, Albert grew more curious about what other stories lay on the soldier's flesh, but stopped himself when Excella walked into the room, their young daughter trailing behind with the nurse maid a short distance away.
Standing up quickly, Chris almost knocked over the table, but ignored it in favour of standing in position, back stiff and eyes staring straight ahead. Rolling his eyes, Albert stood up as well and smiled at Excella. "Excella, my dear, please come and meet Redfield. He was a member of Antony's army before they disbanded after the civil war. He was just telling me some of his exploits on the battle field."
Excella gave Albert a quick look before she smiled softly at Chris—although her eyes stayed icy cold. "A pleasure to meet you."
Relaxing a fraction, Chris brought a fist to his chest, a formal way of greeting for soldiers. "A pleasure to meet you as well, my lady."
"I wish I could have sat and heard your stories as well, but it seems Albert had forgotten to tell me that we had a visitor. Please forgive me for not attending," she said, hands going to rest on the baby bump while their daughter pressed herself close against her leg.
"It's all right," he said, easing out of the position. "Perhaps he could relay the stories to you another day, but I promise they're nothing very exciting," he said, and Albert admired his ability to speak in front of an upper class woman. Most men stumbled over their words about six times.
"I think it is about time you left, though, do you not agree?" Albert said, turning his attention away from Excella's cold gaze to look at Chris, who looked more than ready to leave. "I'll have one of my people show you the way out. But I do hope that you return."
"I… It would be an honour," Chris said, saluting Albert. "It was nice of you to have me over—your hospitality is much, er, appreciated."
Nodding, Albert waited until Chris had left the room, led by one of his servants, before turning his attention back to Excella. "Please take Melino back to her room," he said, talking to the nurse maid behind her. Nodding, the maid came and took the hand of his daughter, leading her out of the room. Waiting until she was gone, Excella kept her gaze on the food laid out before going to lounge on one of the couches.
Picking up a grape, she looked it over before going to chew it slowly. "I would appreciate it if you did not bring home a man in which to fuck during the day when our daughter is still awake," she said, her gaze flicking up to lock eyes with him. Standing still, Albert kept their eyes locked before sitting back down across from her.
"I was merely looking for information on the military side of this republic. It takes more than senators and political gossip to really know what's going on."
"Don't lie to me and insult my intelligence," Excella said, her voice clipped. "I just would rather not see the men my husband is having sex with. I'm sure the same would go for you."
Biting his cheek, Albert reigned in his temper and continued to sit, staring at the seeds from the pomegranate that sat, uneaten, on the table.
**XX**
Caesar had declared himself dictator for life. The senate was in an uproar, and the stones that held their republic up began to crack and crumble under the pressure.
**XX**
"Are you alright?"
Turning his attention away from a wax tablet in front of him, Albert gave Chris a curious look. Since their first meeting down at the market, Chris had been visiting more and more often. At first he had seemed hesitant to come over, one of Albert's slaves leading him in almost like it was punishment. But as the weeks went by he began to grow more and more comfortable in the lavish household, and had even stopped asking Albert if he could eat a grape when it was clearly offered to him.
On a few occasions Excella had joined them, and listened to some of the stories Chris would tell. He would always tone it down when she joined them, but sometimes he would get far too much into the story and describe every gory detail. Surprisingly enough, Excella seemed to enjoy them—they were probably more interesting than many of the stories she heard from her female companions.
But after a few months of idle conversation and increasing comfort, things began to turn sour for Albert. The senate was in disarray, the men who worked their entire lives for a shot at power were now standing on the cusp of losing it all. Caesar had begun to take more and more power, displeasing the optimates of the senate who disliked his standing with the people. He had also begun to give land to his veterans, all while making those under the Roman republic official citizens of Rome.
Albert was displeased with all of this. He felt as if his entire life—everything he had been striving for—was being plucked out of his hand by a man who figured himself a corporeal form of Jupiter. And for once in his life, he was beginning to feel useless; he had nothing he could do to stop it. Not without the backing of a large number of men at his side, that was.
"I'm fine," he said, watching Chris nod once, although he seemed not to believe him. "Why do you ask?"
"You're not asking anything of me today. Usually I come here and tell you all about my exploits as a soldier… You haven't asked for a story today."
Shrugging, Albert went back to reading the tablet. It was a letter from Brutus, asking him for a meeting. "I'm just a little preoccupied today. Excella and my daughter have left for one of our villas in the south. She's expecting soon, and the smell of the city is making her ill. I just hope that she arrives there safely."
Nodding, Chris went to eat some of the food available to him while Albert wrote a reply, before he asked another question. "Do you love her?"
"Who?" he asked, head still bowed as he told Brutus he would meet with him in the morning.
"Your wife."
"No," Albert replied easily.
"Why not? I mean, she is your wife…" Clearly Chris seemed confused by the upper class' views on marriage and love.
"You don't marry out of love—you marry because of political reasons. She came from a strong family line and I wanted to be a part of it," he explained as he finished the letter and passed it to one of his servants to give to Brutus. "Besides, she is a woman."
"So?"
Sighing, Albert looked at Chris, reading his curious expression before answering. "I prefer the company of men. I thought I made that clear."
A blush immediately spread across Chris' features, and he moved to take a long drink from his wine cup. "I thought as much."
"Hence why I do not go looking for companionship with my wife," he finished, going to lounge in his chair. "Does this make you uncomfortable?"
"No… No, not really. It was commonplace in the army. I mean, you have men all around, and if you've read any Plato you can understand the importance of those relationships."
"You've read Plato?" he asked, amazed. Chris kept surprising him.
"A bit, not a lot, though. But… Well, I'm wondering something now."
"What is that?" Albert asked, picking up his own cup to drink from.
"Are you looking to have sex with me?"
Raising a brow, Albert stared at Chris from over the rim of his cup. He caught on faster than he thought. Another surprise. "Perhaps. Does this make you nervous?"
"You seem to forget I'm a soldier. I've been propositioned before," he said, regaining some of his composure.
Humming, Albert placed his cup back down on the table before sitting up. "Did you ever accept?"
"You're a senator, Wesker," Chris said, dodging the question. "We're both Roman citizens and this isn't… this isn't acceptable." As he said it, he looked away from Albert, and he could read the hesitation in his stance. He didn't really believe that, did he?
"Do you know how many men Antony has slept with?" he asked after a time, head cocked to the side as Chris shifted again. "He's slept with a lot more than you probably expected for a notorious womanizer. There is nothing wrong with enjoying another man's body."
"I never said there was, I'm just saying… We're both free men and citizens of the Republic…"
Snorting, Albert stood up and moved to sit beside Chris, and Chris did not move away this time. "Tell me another story—I need a distraction," he ordered, the wine and the soothing light from the candles in the otherwise dark room calming him.
"A story about what?" Chris asked, and Albert could hear him swallow thickly. "I could tell you one about when we were ordered to—"
Chris faltered when Albert placed his hand on his thigh, thin fingers rubbing the course material under his hand. Pleased that he hadn't pulled away, Albert slowly rubbed his thigh while his gaze stayed fixed on Chris, who was still staring straight ahead. "Go on…"
"I-I… I don't remember what I was saying," he admitted, and Albert felt him stiffen again, his body shivering under his touch. Sliding his hand up further, Albert continued to touch his leg while he stared at the young man's face.
"Look at me," he said, not quite a command but not a request. Chris did it, following it like a solider was trained to do. Locking eyes with him, he kept his hand on his thigh—a gentle touch. He couldn't see anything in Chris' eyes save for that same wild look he always had. Reaching up, Albert touched the scar he had wanted to feel under his fingertips for so long. It was soft, the skin slightly raised and puckered. He suspected the colour was what his skin looked like before he spent hours in the sun. Tracing it from his ear to his chin, Albert ended up cupping it, feeling the stubble that was there. He smelt like leather and musk, with a hint of wine. "How did you get this?"
"A fight… A brawl," he said. His breath smelt like pomegranate seeds and spiced wine. "Someone got a lucky hit with a knife… Almost took my eye out."
"Do you have any other scars?" he asked, and Chris could see something flash behind those deep blue eyes of his.
"Yes."
"May I see them?" Albert asked, and Chris' eyes went to the slaves standing behind them, their expressions blank. Seeing where his gaze was, Albert turned around and shooed them off before going back to face him. "If we go to my bedroom, would you show me?"
Looking back at him, Chris locked eyes with Albert once more. Without any tremble in his voice or a sign of hesitation, Chris answered him. "Yes."
When they entered his room, Albert moved to strip himself, pulling off the silk tunic he had been wearing all day. Tossing the blue fabric onto the end of the bed, he waited until he could feel Chris behind him before turning around, immodest about his nudity. He watched Chris' eyes roam for a moment, and let him. Some time passed in which Chris just stood still, before he reached up and took his own, rougher tunic off. Letting it fall onto the richly decorated floor, he stood still in front of Albert.
He looked gorgeous, Albert decided. His chest was broad, and the skin across it was a rich, dark honey colour. The hair on it hid most of the scars, but Albert could see one running along his right peck. Following the trail of hairs down his stomach, he noticed another scar along his side, deeper and longer than all of the other ones he'd seen so far. Resisting the urge to close the gap and touch it, he continued to trail the contours of Chris' body with his eyes, paying attention to his strong thighs and slim waist. Finally gazing upon his cock, Albert was pleased to see he was well endowed, his thick member sitting nicely in a patch of dark brown curls.
Finally stepping forward, Albert reached out to touch the scar on his side, pressing himself close as his nimble fingers slid up and down it. His other arm wrapped around his waist, hugging him close as he applied a soft, tender kiss to his neck. "How did you get this one?"
"A Gaul got me from the side when we were forced to break rank," he mumbled, his own hands going to slide up Albert's back, calloused fingers rubbing deliciously against his skin. Albert could feel him duck his head down into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent. "You smell like pomegranates."
Smiling softly, Albert hummed and went to find the scar on his chest with his fingers, running though his soft chest hair until he found the raised bump. "And this one?"
"Training. I got too cocky and was sliced for it," he said, voice deep and rich against his ear.
Pulling away slightly, Albert went to look at Chris through heavy-lidded eyes, admiring how the angles on Chris' face popped when in the dark confines of the bedroom. Moving to cup his face, Albert once again looked into the wild eyes he had become so intrigued by, wishing he could see the world Chris lived for just a moment—to harness the physical power he did. It was almost intoxicating to hear the stories and see into his eyes like this, to come so close to grasping the strength and wield it as his own.
Moving in for a kiss, Albert waited to see if Chris would move away, but instead he moved forward until their lips were almost brushing. Breaking their gaze, Chris looked down at Albert's lips for a moment before backing up. "Don't tell anyone…"
"It will be our secret," he whispered against his lips before moving in to kiss him deeply. The taste of spiced wine, figs, and the pomegranate seeds, combined with a taste uniquely his own filled his mouth, and Albert wanted more. Tangling his fingers in the rich brown locks, he deepened the kiss, sliding his tongue inside Chris' mouth to explore. He could feel Chris' hands wrap around his waist, and he let himself be guided back to the bed as they continued to kiss.
Soon they were on the bed, rich silk blankets surrounding them as Albert explored Chris' body with his tongue, swirling it along his nipples and gliding it along the scars, memorizing the body of a warrior. Soon enough it was hot and muggy in the room, the late Roman night air breathing over their skins, heightening every touch; every kiss; every breath.
Albert enjoyed how sure Chris' touches were—how in command he was of himself even when he had shown hesitancy before. His strong, broad palms held onto his pale hips as he slid his cock between his thighs, rocking together as they fucked on the bed. Pressing his cheek against Chris' he listened to his heavy pants and low moans, growling himself every so often as Chris bit his neck and touched him all over, taking away all of the stress he felt with every kiss. Perhaps this was what Chris meant when he said he visited the women of the city to relax.
They carried on for some time, neither one of them giving away too much—the politician in Albert making an appearance, while it was the warrior in Chris. But eventually they both had to concede, and Albert relished in the feeling of Chris' cock jumping against his own as they released together. Chris let out a low, animalistic growl at the end of it all, his body shaking under Albert's own as they touched each other to completion, the smell of sex and incense heavy in the air.
Part II will be posted in ten days!