Title: The Tow Oasis
Author:![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
paraboobizarre
Pairing(s): BillxTom
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters used herein are fictional representations of real people and the actions and situations contained in the fics are no reflection on the real people on which they are based. All characters engaging in sexual acts of any kind are over 18 years of age.
I do not believe anything of this ever happened, nor that it should and I do not make any money of this. It's fiction.
Warnings: AU, if that qualifies as a warning ;)
Summary: Set in ancient Egypt, Tom and Bill rule over neighboring kingdoms and everything's fine and dandy till one day Bill wants to have something that actually belongs to his brother...
Author's notes: It took AGES to finish this story... sorry,haylzee and emseviltwin
My first AU, so maybe cut me some slack, ja?
:)
Author:
paraboobizarre Pairing(s): BillxTom
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: The characters used herein are fictional representations of real people and the actions and situations contained in the fics are no reflection on the real people on which they are based. All characters engaging in sexual acts of any kind are over 18 years of age.
I do not believe anything of this ever happened, nor that it should and I do not make any money of this. It's fiction.
Warnings: AU, if that qualifies as a warning ;)
Summary: Set in ancient Egypt, Tom and Bill rule over neighboring kingdoms and everything's fine and dandy till one day Bill wants to have something that actually belongs to his brother...
Author's notes: It took AGES to finish this story... sorry,
haylzee and emseviltwin My first AU, so maybe cut me some slack, ja?
:)
"I am unworthy…unworthy, yadda yadda yadda!” Delicate hands fluttered through the air, emphasizing the point.
On another stool, sitting as was custom, a few steps lower, was a short and pudgy man. He tried to inconspicuously wipe at the sweat that was pouring down over his shaven head and into his face. The material of his thin tunic was already sticking onto his back.
The slightest breeze billowed the tall curtains hanging between the massive pillars lining the hall but it quickly got lost in the vast expanse of the hall. The vezir dabbed at his shiny forehead to keep the stinging sweat from running into his eyes as he blinked up at the impressive throne at the top of the steps.
“And then this whole pyramid business!” The young man shuddered theatrically, shiny black hair bobbing in time with the movement.
“Seriously, I am 18 years old – how morbid is it that I am expected to supervise the construction of my own grave?” He rolled a grape between two fingers, inspecting it closely before he popped it into his mouth.
“Has your Majesty picked a site yet?” The vezir asked, gasping quietly for air that wasn’t stiff with the late afternoon heat. The air in this god forsaken place seemed to stand absolutely still.
“As a matter of fact, I have,” the other one answered, leisurely inspecting his nails, wiping them at his robe before he continued, “about half a day off to the East from where my dear uncle resides now.”
The vezir gulped when his brain had processed the information so casually presented to him just now.
“But that’s...that is...” He started to babble, the sweat starting down between his shoulder blades in a veritable river now.
“That is...your Majesty’s brother...your Majesty?”
“So?” Arching one eyebrow in interrogation, the young king picked up one of the many cats that roamed the generous halls of the palace at every hour of the day, depositing it in his lap and rubbing behind its ears.
Even from where he sat hunched over in his chair at the end of the steps, the vezir could hear the deep throaty rumble of the cat’s purr, the animal’s eyes narrowing to mere slits as it enjoyed the attention.
“I would never question your majesty’s judgement on that matter but this already lies in your brother’s territory...”
“Yes, it is...” Nimble fingers brushed along the cat’s ears, pulling them back slightly, giving the jet black animal an even more sinister look than it already possessed.
“It’s an oasis. I think I would like my last residence to have something akin to a view,” he gestured outside, sighing heavily, “other than sand and shrubs, that is...as beautifully quaint as it is.”
ℵℵℵ
“It’s my oasis.” Tom casually draped one leg over the massive armrest of his throne, letting it dangle.
Bill was feeling more and more indignant. Not only had his brother insisted he come here in person to present his request, but Tom didn't even offer him a chair; there was a tiny little stool, propped up at the foot of the stairs but he would be damned if he sat on that like any other common person.
“You’re not even using it!” Bill cried out, frustration beginning to wear on him, “You haven’t even commanded anyone with the construction of your pyramid yet!” How could his brother he so stubborn?!
Tom grinned, sizing Bill up in that typical big brother fashion that always managed to drive Bill up the wall.
“I plan on living a long time, brother.” Bill just huffed, rudely pushing his brother's leg off the armrest and sitting down on it himself.
“I want that oasis, Tom.” He growled, feeling impatience boil in his middle, like lava inside a volcano. Tom simply chuckled in response, poking Bill in the thigh with his toes and the unyielding heat in his belly boiled a little higher.
“Suppose I let you build your little pyramid there – what do I get in exchange for my oasis?” Tom asked, pulling himself into an upright sitting position and propping up his arm on Bill's naked thigh and Bill cursed himself for not wearing a longer garment today. Tom looked at him with big curious eyes. A fake look, of course, Bill knew his brother probably already had a plan of his own as far as the Tow oasis was concerned. Tom never was unprepared.
“Ummm...what would you like to have in exchange?” Bill hazarded, wriggling on the armrest, his discomfort increasing when he saw a superior little smile flicker over his brother's face.
“We bet and the winner gets the oasis. I bet you I can spend ten million sesterces on one single meal.” Tom twirled the hem of Bill’s tunic between his fingers, tugging lightly on the thin material.
“Not even if you invite every single peasant living in that minuscule kingdom of yours,” Bill teased, snatching the garment from between his brother’s fingers. He smoothed it back down over his knees and Tom sighed quietly in what seemed defeat.
“Your oasis is as good as mine!” Bill smirked and hopped off the armrest.
He sauntered down the stairs, turning only when his brother called after him.
“I’ll send you something fitting to wear for the occasion. Expect my messenger soon!” Bill just waved over his back, biting down an amused little smile as he walked away.
Ten million sesterces! Tom would have to serve him every tiny bite covered in gold leaf and even then the expenses wouldn’t even come close...
ℵℵℵ
Not even a week later the promised messenger arrived, delivering a message from his brother and a tiny bundle wrapped in plain cloth.
As usual his brother’s writing was a partly illegible scrawl. Some of his hieroglyph seemed to stand exactly upside down – typical!
The dinner was to be held in two days and the clothes Bill was supposed to wear were in the bundle. Lazily Bill unfastened the knot, tugging at the corners to get the cloth to open up. A quiet clicking sound could be heard before a convolute of pearls slid out of the folds, rolling over his mattress and coiling in on themselves like a shiny snake.
A little note fluttered out after the jewellery.
Wear this. And nothing else.
With two pointy fingers, Bill picked up the convolute and pulled it apart. A few moments later, he gasped, a distinct heat spreading through his cheeks before he stuffed the offending “garment” back into the bundle.
ℵℵℵ
It was already dusk when he walked down the poorly lit hallway. Bill shivered and tugged the flimsy excuse for a cape he wore closer around himself. Light spilled out of an opened door into the corridor and he slipped through the crack into the room behind it.
“You’re over dressed,” Tom said in way of a greeting, indicating the cloak he wore with a dismissive wave of his hands.
Bill huffed quietly in indignation, letting the garment slip off his shoulders and discarding it on the floor as he walked up the stairs to where their meal was set up.
Two tricliniums with a dainty little table between them; on the table nothing bit a bowl of figs and two faïence cups.
“Those better be the most expensive figs ever!” Bill teased as he walked over to his assigned place, making a move to sit down but a firm grip of his wrist prevented him from doing so.
“The pearls look good on you,” his brother commented, completely ignoring Bill’s previous statement. Tom tugged lightly at the single strand of iridescent orbs that wound its way round Bill’s hips.
“Turn around for me, will you?”
Bill bit down a shiver, when he felt a rough fingertip trace down his backbone to his ass, plucking at the strand of pearls where it vanished between his legs.
“That looks even better than I thought it would,” his brother purred, running his flat palm down the back of his thighs before he smacked him lightly on the ass.
“You make all your little conquests dress up like that?” Bill asked, carefully lowering himself on the triclinium. The pearl underwear might have looked good but it certainly disqualified itself for every day use the moment one attempted to actually sit down.
Tom watched him closely, a self-satisfied smile plastered all over his face.
“Fig?” He asked casually, tossing one of the ripe fruits towards him and Bill caught it awkwardly against his chest.
“You're so saying goodbye to that oasis of yours,” Bill mumbled, his lips already pursed around the fruit in his hand.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his brother watch him intently. Tom's toes were digging into the folds of the soft cloth covering the triclinium, the long line of his legs, slightly more muscular than his own, up to the hem of the short tunic his brother wore; the way Bill could just about see the tiny swell of his twin's ass, he soft shadows between his thighs, the way the shirt was just short or long enough to reveal that Tom didn't wear anything under it.
His mouth started to water and it was not only because of the overpowering sweetness of the ripe fig. For a few moments they sat in silence and Bill tried his best to ignore the subtle sucking and smacking noises from the triclinium vis á vis as his brother slurped away at the ripe fig. He bit into his own, a healthy amount of the sickeningly sweet juice squirting out of the fruit down all over his chest. He tried to wipe it away as casually as possible, yet didn't fail to notice the decidedly devious smile flickering over his twin's face.
“Take of the pearls,”
“Huh?”
Tom slid off the triclinium, casually sitting down next to Bill.
Despite the warm evening air, Bill shivered under his brother's gaze and Tom trailed a finger along the string of pearls across his hips.
The pearls clicked against each other, then the clasp snapped and the intricate net of pearls covering the last bits of him slid down. Tom chuckled quietly when he tugged the pearls off and Bill hastily reached for a small cushion to cover himself.
“And now for the expensive part of the meal,” Tom announced as he reached under the bed, producing a bowl of smooth black stone, with a little stick of the same material in it. Mortar and pestle.
His mouth slightly open, Bill watched his twin put the pearls into the bowl. With a quick, forceful move, the pestle ground down into the bowl. Bill winced as the pearls cracked and crunched under the force. He looked at his brother, a doubtful look plastered all over his face.
Bill leaned forward, the pillow slipping from its assigned place but he was far to engrossed to care at this point. Inside the smooth black walls of the mortar, dust of cracked pearls clung to the polished surface of the stone, white powder looking a bit like chalk, shards of still opalescent spheres and Tom moved the pestle again, crushing them even further.
“Tom, what are you - ” Bill began but stopped when his twin put a finger to his lips, shushing him.
Tom reached under the triclinium again, producing a simple clay jug this time. Bill wrinkled his nose as the strong scent of the liquid inside hit his nose. Vinegar.
“Like I said, this is the expensive part,” Tom laughed as he reached for one of the up to now unused faïence cup. Tom tipped the mortar over it and the crushed pearls slid from the bowl into the glass. Taking up the jug, Tom poured some of the vinegar into the glass before he held it out for Bill to inspect.
Inside, with some of the white fine powder still floating on top, bubbles rose to the surface, a subdued hissing sound accompanying it. Tom gently swirled the liquid in the cup and the hissing and bubbling increased, the vinegar growing opaque as the pearls dissolved even further. Bill gaped at his brother in disbelief, the ominous little smile on his twin's face only furthering his confusion. Surely Tom didn't expect him to drink that?!
“Cheers!” Tom raised his glass, his eyes dancing in delight. “To my oasis,” he added, before he tipped the glass and drained it in one go.
Just imagining the absolutely foul taste of the drink made Bill flinch in sympathetic disgust. Tom shuddered, slammed the cup down on the dainty little table and reached for Bill's cup, which had been filled with wine, finishing the rest of it.
“Damn, that was gross!” Tom shuddered again and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Ow!” Tom groused, rubbing at his arm where Bill had just hit him.
“Ten million sesterces?!” Bill cried out, “that's your fancy ten million meal?” Bill grabbed the empty glass, thrusting it under Tom's nose.
With one fluid move, Tom took the glass out of his hand, putting it back on the table.
“Actually the pearls cost me a little more than that but yeah...” Tom shrugged eloquently, “you can take it up with my treasurer if you want to check on the exact price.”
Tom ducked his head, affecting shyness while he squinted up at Bill through long lashes.
“I'll have to raise the taxes to fill the gaping hole your little thong ripped into my budget...” Tom whispered, his voice dropping down into that tantalizingly low tone of voice that made Bill's skin tingle in anticipation. Fingertips marched up over his kneecap, down the length of his thigh and Bill instinctively reached for the small pillow, covering himself again.
“I...uh...” Bill stated but felt his brain grind to a halt when his brother's hand closed over his own where he clutched at the tiny cushion.
Tom's hand was warm, hot even and Bill could feel his skin start to prickle where his brother held his hand, a warm tickling that made him itch inside his own skin.
“It's late already,” Tom mumbled, leaning in closer, his breath ghosting against Bill's cheeks, smelling of wine.
“You should stay here over night...”
Even with his head bowed down, avoiding his brother's inquisitive looks, Bill could tell his brother was searching his face, watching him closely and he knew he was burning up right now.
“Bill?” A stray strand of hair was brushed out of his face, tucked behind his ear, Tom's fingers curling behind the shell of it, fingertips pushing against his scalp, running up into his hair.
Tom moved up closer, the sheets whispering and Bill instinctively drew up his knees closer to his chest and crowded against the stack of pillows at the headboard.
“That image of you wearing nothing but those pearls,” Tom mumbled, his hand coming down on Bill's kneecap as he moved up even closer, “...I'll never get that out of my head ever again...” He grabbed at Bill's knees pushing his legs apart and moving up between his spread thighs, planting his hands on either side of Bill's hips.
Bill's heart was hammering against his ribs so hard he was sure his brother had to hear it as well.
Every breath washed against his cheeks, warming his skin and when Tom exhaled Bill breathed in, tasting the wine in his brother's breath, the sugary sweetness of the fruit, a preview of what kissing Tom would be like...
“I could think of one more way for you to get the oasis, you know...” Tom mumbled, ducking his head and brushing his lips along his jawline in an almost kiss and Bill's breath hitched in his throat.
“...earn it, sort of. I'm sure you'd like it as well...”
“Earn it?!” Bill echoed his brother's words, his voice dripping his sarcasm. He twisted out of the cage of his brother's arms, almost tripping down the stairs as he hurriedly grabbed his discarded cloak and threw it over his shoulders again. The pitter-patter of his bare feet slapping against the smooth sandstone floor seemed inordinately loud and hectic as he hastened down the hallway towards the door.
“Just think about!” Tom's voice carried through the high-ceilinged hall, “I'll still be here when you've changed you mind!”
Then the heavy wooden door fell back into its lock behind him and Bill ran down the dusky corridor.
ℵℵℵ
Boring, boring, boring...everything was just...so boring!
The early afternoon sun was scorching hot, forcing everything to a standstill, even the air; it seemed to hover in the suffocating heat of the hall.
He was growing restless and snappish, even more so than usual. And then there was still the Tow Oasis business.
It had been a little more than a week since that ominous dinner bet with his brother and try as he might, Bill could not get the night's event out of his head. Every idle moment presenting itself to him was an invitation to replay that evening, embellish it a little, toy with the what ifs.
What if he hadn't run away like a silly little girl?
Bill sighed despondently, rolling his eyes at himself.
If he had stayed he would have that god forsaken oasis right now...probably he would also have troubles sitting down but then again...he'd have the oasis! What was a sore bum compared to spending eternity in an oasis like that, with such a magnificent view...
He would have to get it somehow!
Down at the far end of the hall, a horrible whining and yowling jerked him out of his thoughts. Two of his cats were fighting, a convolute of black fur rolling around on a ridiculously expensive Persian carpet, their claws digging into the material, ripping out threads of silk as they fought.
Bill's first reaction was to reach for something heavy to throw at his ill-behaved cats and to break up their fight before his costly possessions where shredded to pieces but he stopped in mid motion, a devious little smile spreading on his face...
ℵℵℵ
“But your Majesty?!” The man stammered as he gripped his brush. Bill huffed and rolled his eyes, shooting a deprecatory glance over his shoulder at the scrivener behind him.
“Shut up and write!” He snapped, glaring daggers at the frail old man, who gripped his brush with a shaking hand, the inkwell in his other, with the thick mixture of soot and gum arabic jittering in time with the underling's nervous jerks; the thick mixture swayed precariously close to the rim of the inkwell and Bill squeezed his eyes shut, half expecting a big fat glob of the oily substance to land on his bare back and ruin his plans for tonight.
“I swear if you splatter that all over me I'll have you beheaded, no questions asked!” He hissed at the scrivener before he turned his head back, propping it up on his folded arms, waiting for the man to begin writing.
A tentative brush down his left shoulder made him shiver, the warm ink cooling off on his skin almost immediately.
“I want your best script! An don't save on the gold, alright?” Bill mumbled, feeling already a little drowsy as he lay on his stomach, his eyes slipping close while the brush slowly worked its way across his shoulder blades, then lower and lower still...
ℵℵℵ
Boring, boring, boring...everything was just...so exceedingly boring!
Tom wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, refilling his cup again. As nice as it was, being king and all, and ruling over his own land, in all honesty, there wasn't all that much to do. Especially not when he was all alone with his brother sitting in an equally pompous palace a good day's journey away from him.
He missed Bill, in a strange sort of way. Bill was annoying and spoiled, talked non-stop and never let anyone finish their sentences, had an unnerving fetish for cats and a horrible taste in food and furniture but still...he really missed his brother.
Their parents had agreed to split their enormous kingdom and give each of the brothers a part of it the day Bill and Tom had whacked each other in the head with a set of costly urns in a childish and senseless fight over who would be king when they were grown-ups.
Bill, in keeping with his insane sense of entitlement, didn't see how being the second born made him any less worthy...he still didn't and eternally prided himself on the fact that his kingdom was just a tad bigger than Tom's.
From the far end of the hall, a tiny figure approached him, all flapping cloth and hurried little steps as the short man scurried closer, already starting to bow rhythmically even though he was still as much as fifty paces away from the throne.
“Your Majesty!” The man puffed out, falling down on both knees at the foot of the steps and Tom winced as he heard the underling's kneecaps crack against the hard tiles of the floor.
“Your brother has sent a present –” An unlovely, hollow rasping sound marked the break where the man gasped for breath before he continued, “demanding that it be shown to you immediately!”
Tom's ears perked up at that and he leaned forward, inspecting the messenger more closely.
“He's here himself?” He asked, trying to hide his excitement as best as he could.
The man grimaced in an exaggerated show of disappointment and shook his head.
“He just sent the uh...present for your Majesty. Would your Highness like to see it?”
Tom sighed, silently cursing Bill for lacking the guts to show up himself and waved at the man to go bring whatever present his brother had sent.
A few minutes later a couple of men dragged in a heavy and long bundle, a thick material rolled up in itself. All along the hallway Tom could hear their puffing breaths and quiet groans as they hauled his brother's obviously enormously heavy present nearer to the steps leading up to his throne.
Tom squinted and eventually discerned what the men were carrying. A rug.
Bill sent him a rug?!
With a dull thud the rolled up thing landed on the floor and Tom could have sworn it wriggled while the men retreated their steps backwards, bowing to him till they were almost out of sight before they slipped out through the thick door at the end of the hall.
Lazily finishing the last of his drink, Tom sauntered down the stairs, tipping the rug with his foot to get it to unroll.
Unroll it did, surprisingly fast and steady so until, at the end of the rug, something pale and black haired rolled out of the rug, springing to its feet and swaying a little in place till it found its balance again and stood upright, one hand already placed on a cocked hip.
“Bill?” Tom rubbed at his eyes incredulously and slumped down heavily on one of the stone steps. The strong afternoon light filtered through the heavy drapes, lightening his brother's silhouette from the side. Tom gulped heavily, his mouth as dry as if he had just swallowed a handful of sand.
He could see his twin's lithe frame and the fine lines of his body, the vague glittering of what seemed to be gold script decorating his brother's skin, apart from which Bill was stark naked...
Tom cleared his throat, somehow willing his brain to work again, trying to tame the flabbergasted look on his face into the usual suave expression.
“You're wearing even less than last time,” he commented, trying to hide his excitement even though his palms were already sweaty round the cup in his hand, “ that's uh...an achievement in itself...”
Bill just smiled and walked closer to his twin's sitting place while Tom tried his hardest not to stare too noticeably at his brother's groin but instead focus on that pretty face of his.
“So umm...” Tom nervously tugged a couple of dreads behind his ear, “I assume this is a message for me?” He asked, gesturing at the black and gold script winding its way all around his brother's body.
Bill nodded, the smile turning up a notch, becoming something between ominous and seductive as he did a full turn in front of Tom, his arms raised at shoulder level, letting Tom inspect the artwork.
“Like it?”
Tom studied the script trying to make out individual words as his brother paraded himself in front of him but his attention was sidetracked when he saw the symbols marching up and down the insides of his brother's thighs.
“I think it may take some time to read that...” Tom pulled himself to his feet, holding out his hand for Bill to take, “so why don't we take this to some quiet place where I can fully appreciate the artwork, huh?” He purred, taking his brother's hand and pulling him up the stairs with him, back to his private rooms. Bill's pearly laughter echoed off the long halls before Tom pulled the door back into its lock behind them.
tbc...
On another stool, sitting as was custom, a few steps lower, was a short and pudgy man. He tried to inconspicuously wipe at the sweat that was pouring down over his shaven head and into his face. The material of his thin tunic was already sticking onto his back.
The slightest breeze billowed the tall curtains hanging between the massive pillars lining the hall but it quickly got lost in the vast expanse of the hall. The vezir dabbed at his shiny forehead to keep the stinging sweat from running into his eyes as he blinked up at the impressive throne at the top of the steps.
“And then this whole pyramid business!” The young man shuddered theatrically, shiny black hair bobbing in time with the movement.
“Seriously, I am 18 years old – how morbid is it that I am expected to supervise the construction of my own grave?” He rolled a grape between two fingers, inspecting it closely before he popped it into his mouth.
“Has your Majesty picked a site yet?” The vezir asked, gasping quietly for air that wasn’t stiff with the late afternoon heat. The air in this god forsaken place seemed to stand absolutely still.
“As a matter of fact, I have,” the other one answered, leisurely inspecting his nails, wiping them at his robe before he continued, “about half a day off to the East from where my dear uncle resides now.”
The vezir gulped when his brain had processed the information so casually presented to him just now.
“But that’s...that is...” He started to babble, the sweat starting down between his shoulder blades in a veritable river now.
“That is...your Majesty’s brother...your Majesty?”
“So?” Arching one eyebrow in interrogation, the young king picked up one of the many cats that roamed the generous halls of the palace at every hour of the day, depositing it in his lap and rubbing behind its ears.
Even from where he sat hunched over in his chair at the end of the steps, the vezir could hear the deep throaty rumble of the cat’s purr, the animal’s eyes narrowing to mere slits as it enjoyed the attention.
“I would never question your majesty’s judgement on that matter but this already lies in your brother’s territory...”
“Yes, it is...” Nimble fingers brushed along the cat’s ears, pulling them back slightly, giving the jet black animal an even more sinister look than it already possessed.
“It’s an oasis. I think I would like my last residence to have something akin to a view,” he gestured outside, sighing heavily, “other than sand and shrubs, that is...as beautifully quaint as it is.”
“It’s my oasis.” Tom casually draped one leg over the massive armrest of his throne, letting it dangle.
Bill was feeling more and more indignant. Not only had his brother insisted he come here in person to present his request, but Tom didn't even offer him a chair; there was a tiny little stool, propped up at the foot of the stairs but he would be damned if he sat on that like any other common person.
“You’re not even using it!” Bill cried out, frustration beginning to wear on him, “You haven’t even commanded anyone with the construction of your pyramid yet!” How could his brother he so stubborn?!
Tom grinned, sizing Bill up in that typical big brother fashion that always managed to drive Bill up the wall.
“I plan on living a long time, brother.” Bill just huffed, rudely pushing his brother's leg off the armrest and sitting down on it himself.
“I want that oasis, Tom.” He growled, feeling impatience boil in his middle, like lava inside a volcano. Tom simply chuckled in response, poking Bill in the thigh with his toes and the unyielding heat in his belly boiled a little higher.
“Suppose I let you build your little pyramid there – what do I get in exchange for my oasis?” Tom asked, pulling himself into an upright sitting position and propping up his arm on Bill's naked thigh and Bill cursed himself for not wearing a longer garment today. Tom looked at him with big curious eyes. A fake look, of course, Bill knew his brother probably already had a plan of his own as far as the Tow oasis was concerned. Tom never was unprepared.
“Ummm...what would you like to have in exchange?” Bill hazarded, wriggling on the armrest, his discomfort increasing when he saw a superior little smile flicker over his brother's face.
“We bet and the winner gets the oasis. I bet you I can spend ten million sesterces on one single meal.” Tom twirled the hem of Bill’s tunic between his fingers, tugging lightly on the thin material.
“Not even if you invite every single peasant living in that minuscule kingdom of yours,” Bill teased, snatching the garment from between his brother’s fingers. He smoothed it back down over his knees and Tom sighed quietly in what seemed defeat.
“Your oasis is as good as mine!” Bill smirked and hopped off the armrest.
He sauntered down the stairs, turning only when his brother called after him.
“I’ll send you something fitting to wear for the occasion. Expect my messenger soon!” Bill just waved over his back, biting down an amused little smile as he walked away.
Ten million sesterces! Tom would have to serve him every tiny bite covered in gold leaf and even then the expenses wouldn’t even come close...
Not even a week later the promised messenger arrived, delivering a message from his brother and a tiny bundle wrapped in plain cloth.
As usual his brother’s writing was a partly illegible scrawl. Some of his hieroglyph seemed to stand exactly upside down – typical!
The dinner was to be held in two days and the clothes Bill was supposed to wear were in the bundle. Lazily Bill unfastened the knot, tugging at the corners to get the cloth to open up. A quiet clicking sound could be heard before a convolute of pearls slid out of the folds, rolling over his mattress and coiling in on themselves like a shiny snake.
A little note fluttered out after the jewellery.
Wear this. And nothing else.
With two pointy fingers, Bill picked up the convolute and pulled it apart. A few moments later, he gasped, a distinct heat spreading through his cheeks before he stuffed the offending “garment” back into the bundle.
It was already dusk when he walked down the poorly lit hallway. Bill shivered and tugged the flimsy excuse for a cape he wore closer around himself. Light spilled out of an opened door into the corridor and he slipped through the crack into the room behind it.
“You’re over dressed,” Tom said in way of a greeting, indicating the cloak he wore with a dismissive wave of his hands.
Bill huffed quietly in indignation, letting the garment slip off his shoulders and discarding it on the floor as he walked up the stairs to where their meal was set up.
Two tricliniums with a dainty little table between them; on the table nothing bit a bowl of figs and two faïence cups.
“Those better be the most expensive figs ever!” Bill teased as he walked over to his assigned place, making a move to sit down but a firm grip of his wrist prevented him from doing so.
“The pearls look good on you,” his brother commented, completely ignoring Bill’s previous statement. Tom tugged lightly at the single strand of iridescent orbs that wound its way round Bill’s hips.
“Turn around for me, will you?”
Bill bit down a shiver, when he felt a rough fingertip trace down his backbone to his ass, plucking at the strand of pearls where it vanished between his legs.
“That looks even better than I thought it would,” his brother purred, running his flat palm down the back of his thighs before he smacked him lightly on the ass.
“You make all your little conquests dress up like that?” Bill asked, carefully lowering himself on the triclinium. The pearl underwear might have looked good but it certainly disqualified itself for every day use the moment one attempted to actually sit down.
Tom watched him closely, a self-satisfied smile plastered all over his face.
“Fig?” He asked casually, tossing one of the ripe fruits towards him and Bill caught it awkwardly against his chest.
“You're so saying goodbye to that oasis of yours,” Bill mumbled, his lips already pursed around the fruit in his hand.
Out of the corner of his eye, he could see his brother watch him intently. Tom's toes were digging into the folds of the soft cloth covering the triclinium, the long line of his legs, slightly more muscular than his own, up to the hem of the short tunic his brother wore; the way Bill could just about see the tiny swell of his twin's ass, he soft shadows between his thighs, the way the shirt was just short or long enough to reveal that Tom didn't wear anything under it.
His mouth started to water and it was not only because of the overpowering sweetness of the ripe fig. For a few moments they sat in silence and Bill tried his best to ignore the subtle sucking and smacking noises from the triclinium vis á vis as his brother slurped away at the ripe fig. He bit into his own, a healthy amount of the sickeningly sweet juice squirting out of the fruit down all over his chest. He tried to wipe it away as casually as possible, yet didn't fail to notice the decidedly devious smile flickering over his twin's face.
“Take of the pearls,”
“Huh?”
Tom slid off the triclinium, casually sitting down next to Bill.
Despite the warm evening air, Bill shivered under his brother's gaze and Tom trailed a finger along the string of pearls across his hips.
The pearls clicked against each other, then the clasp snapped and the intricate net of pearls covering the last bits of him slid down. Tom chuckled quietly when he tugged the pearls off and Bill hastily reached for a small cushion to cover himself.
“And now for the expensive part of the meal,” Tom announced as he reached under the bed, producing a bowl of smooth black stone, with a little stick of the same material in it. Mortar and pestle.
His mouth slightly open, Bill watched his twin put the pearls into the bowl. With a quick, forceful move, the pestle ground down into the bowl. Bill winced as the pearls cracked and crunched under the force. He looked at his brother, a doubtful look plastered all over his face.
Bill leaned forward, the pillow slipping from its assigned place but he was far to engrossed to care at this point. Inside the smooth black walls of the mortar, dust of cracked pearls clung to the polished surface of the stone, white powder looking a bit like chalk, shards of still opalescent spheres and Tom moved the pestle again, crushing them even further.
“Tom, what are you - ” Bill began but stopped when his twin put a finger to his lips, shushing him.
Tom reached under the triclinium again, producing a simple clay jug this time. Bill wrinkled his nose as the strong scent of the liquid inside hit his nose. Vinegar.
“Like I said, this is the expensive part,” Tom laughed as he reached for one of the up to now unused faïence cup. Tom tipped the mortar over it and the crushed pearls slid from the bowl into the glass. Taking up the jug, Tom poured some of the vinegar into the glass before he held it out for Bill to inspect.
Inside, with some of the white fine powder still floating on top, bubbles rose to the surface, a subdued hissing sound accompanying it. Tom gently swirled the liquid in the cup and the hissing and bubbling increased, the vinegar growing opaque as the pearls dissolved even further. Bill gaped at his brother in disbelief, the ominous little smile on his twin's face only furthering his confusion. Surely Tom didn't expect him to drink that?!
“Cheers!” Tom raised his glass, his eyes dancing in delight. “To my oasis,” he added, before he tipped the glass and drained it in one go.
Just imagining the absolutely foul taste of the drink made Bill flinch in sympathetic disgust. Tom shuddered, slammed the cup down on the dainty little table and reached for Bill's cup, which had been filled with wine, finishing the rest of it.
“Damn, that was gross!” Tom shuddered again and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Ow!” Tom groused, rubbing at his arm where Bill had just hit him.
“Ten million sesterces?!” Bill cried out, “that's your fancy ten million meal?” Bill grabbed the empty glass, thrusting it under Tom's nose.
With one fluid move, Tom took the glass out of his hand, putting it back on the table.
“Actually the pearls cost me a little more than that but yeah...” Tom shrugged eloquently, “you can take it up with my treasurer if you want to check on the exact price.”
Tom ducked his head, affecting shyness while he squinted up at Bill through long lashes.
“I'll have to raise the taxes to fill the gaping hole your little thong ripped into my budget...” Tom whispered, his voice dropping down into that tantalizingly low tone of voice that made Bill's skin tingle in anticipation. Fingertips marched up over his kneecap, down the length of his thigh and Bill instinctively reached for the small pillow, covering himself again.
“I...uh...” Bill stated but felt his brain grind to a halt when his brother's hand closed over his own where he clutched at the tiny cushion.
Tom's hand was warm, hot even and Bill could feel his skin start to prickle where his brother held his hand, a warm tickling that made him itch inside his own skin.
“It's late already,” Tom mumbled, leaning in closer, his breath ghosting against Bill's cheeks, smelling of wine.
“You should stay here over night...”
Even with his head bowed down, avoiding his brother's inquisitive looks, Bill could tell his brother was searching his face, watching him closely and he knew he was burning up right now.
“Bill?” A stray strand of hair was brushed out of his face, tucked behind his ear, Tom's fingers curling behind the shell of it, fingertips pushing against his scalp, running up into his hair.
Tom moved up closer, the sheets whispering and Bill instinctively drew up his knees closer to his chest and crowded against the stack of pillows at the headboard.
“That image of you wearing nothing but those pearls,” Tom mumbled, his hand coming down on Bill's kneecap as he moved up even closer, “...I'll never get that out of my head ever again...” He grabbed at Bill's knees pushing his legs apart and moving up between his spread thighs, planting his hands on either side of Bill's hips.
Bill's heart was hammering against his ribs so hard he was sure his brother had to hear it as well.
Every breath washed against his cheeks, warming his skin and when Tom exhaled Bill breathed in, tasting the wine in his brother's breath, the sugary sweetness of the fruit, a preview of what kissing Tom would be like...
“I could think of one more way for you to get the oasis, you know...” Tom mumbled, ducking his head and brushing his lips along his jawline in an almost kiss and Bill's breath hitched in his throat.
“...earn it, sort of. I'm sure you'd like it as well...”
“Earn it?!” Bill echoed his brother's words, his voice dripping his sarcasm. He twisted out of the cage of his brother's arms, almost tripping down the stairs as he hurriedly grabbed his discarded cloak and threw it over his shoulders again. The pitter-patter of his bare feet slapping against the smooth sandstone floor seemed inordinately loud and hectic as he hastened down the hallway towards the door.
“Just think about!” Tom's voice carried through the high-ceilinged hall, “I'll still be here when you've changed you mind!”
Then the heavy wooden door fell back into its lock behind him and Bill ran down the dusky corridor.
Boring, boring, boring...everything was just...so boring!
The early afternoon sun was scorching hot, forcing everything to a standstill, even the air; it seemed to hover in the suffocating heat of the hall.
He was growing restless and snappish, even more so than usual. And then there was still the Tow Oasis business.
It had been a little more than a week since that ominous dinner bet with his brother and try as he might, Bill could not get the night's event out of his head. Every idle moment presenting itself to him was an invitation to replay that evening, embellish it a little, toy with the what ifs.
What if he hadn't run away like a silly little girl?
Bill sighed despondently, rolling his eyes at himself.
If he had stayed he would have that god forsaken oasis right now...probably he would also have troubles sitting down but then again...he'd have the oasis! What was a sore bum compared to spending eternity in an oasis like that, with such a magnificent view...
He would have to get it somehow!
Down at the far end of the hall, a horrible whining and yowling jerked him out of his thoughts. Two of his cats were fighting, a convolute of black fur rolling around on a ridiculously expensive Persian carpet, their claws digging into the material, ripping out threads of silk as they fought.
Bill's first reaction was to reach for something heavy to throw at his ill-behaved cats and to break up their fight before his costly possessions where shredded to pieces but he stopped in mid motion, a devious little smile spreading on his face...
“But your Majesty?!” The man stammered as he gripped his brush. Bill huffed and rolled his eyes, shooting a deprecatory glance over his shoulder at the scrivener behind him.
“Shut up and write!” He snapped, glaring daggers at the frail old man, who gripped his brush with a shaking hand, the inkwell in his other, with the thick mixture of soot and gum arabic jittering in time with the underling's nervous jerks; the thick mixture swayed precariously close to the rim of the inkwell and Bill squeezed his eyes shut, half expecting a big fat glob of the oily substance to land on his bare back and ruin his plans for tonight.
“I swear if you splatter that all over me I'll have you beheaded, no questions asked!” He hissed at the scrivener before he turned his head back, propping it up on his folded arms, waiting for the man to begin writing.
A tentative brush down his left shoulder made him shiver, the warm ink cooling off on his skin almost immediately.
“I want your best script! An don't save on the gold, alright?” Bill mumbled, feeling already a little drowsy as he lay on his stomach, his eyes slipping close while the brush slowly worked its way across his shoulder blades, then lower and lower still...
Boring, boring, boring...everything was just...so exceedingly boring!
Tom wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, refilling his cup again. As nice as it was, being king and all, and ruling over his own land, in all honesty, there wasn't all that much to do. Especially not when he was all alone with his brother sitting in an equally pompous palace a good day's journey away from him.
He missed Bill, in a strange sort of way. Bill was annoying and spoiled, talked non-stop and never let anyone finish their sentences, had an unnerving fetish for cats and a horrible taste in food and furniture but still...he really missed his brother.
Their parents had agreed to split their enormous kingdom and give each of the brothers a part of it the day Bill and Tom had whacked each other in the head with a set of costly urns in a childish and senseless fight over who would be king when they were grown-ups.
Bill, in keeping with his insane sense of entitlement, didn't see how being the second born made him any less worthy...he still didn't and eternally prided himself on the fact that his kingdom was just a tad bigger than Tom's.
From the far end of the hall, a tiny figure approached him, all flapping cloth and hurried little steps as the short man scurried closer, already starting to bow rhythmically even though he was still as much as fifty paces away from the throne.
“Your Majesty!” The man puffed out, falling down on both knees at the foot of the steps and Tom winced as he heard the underling's kneecaps crack against the hard tiles of the floor.
“Your brother has sent a present –” An unlovely, hollow rasping sound marked the break where the man gasped for breath before he continued, “demanding that it be shown to you immediately!”
Tom's ears perked up at that and he leaned forward, inspecting the messenger more closely.
“He's here himself?” He asked, trying to hide his excitement as best as he could.
The man grimaced in an exaggerated show of disappointment and shook his head.
“He just sent the uh...present for your Majesty. Would your Highness like to see it?”
Tom sighed, silently cursing Bill for lacking the guts to show up himself and waved at the man to go bring whatever present his brother had sent.
A few minutes later a couple of men dragged in a heavy and long bundle, a thick material rolled up in itself. All along the hallway Tom could hear their puffing breaths and quiet groans as they hauled his brother's obviously enormously heavy present nearer to the steps leading up to his throne.
Tom squinted and eventually discerned what the men were carrying. A rug.
Bill sent him a rug?!
With a dull thud the rolled up thing landed on the floor and Tom could have sworn it wriggled while the men retreated their steps backwards, bowing to him till they were almost out of sight before they slipped out through the thick door at the end of the hall.
Lazily finishing the last of his drink, Tom sauntered down the stairs, tipping the rug with his foot to get it to unroll.
Unroll it did, surprisingly fast and steady so until, at the end of the rug, something pale and black haired rolled out of the rug, springing to its feet and swaying a little in place till it found its balance again and stood upright, one hand already placed on a cocked hip.
“Bill?” Tom rubbed at his eyes incredulously and slumped down heavily on one of the stone steps. The strong afternoon light filtered through the heavy drapes, lightening his brother's silhouette from the side. Tom gulped heavily, his mouth as dry as if he had just swallowed a handful of sand.
He could see his twin's lithe frame and the fine lines of his body, the vague glittering of what seemed to be gold script decorating his brother's skin, apart from which Bill was stark naked...
Tom cleared his throat, somehow willing his brain to work again, trying to tame the flabbergasted look on his face into the usual suave expression.
“You're wearing even less than last time,” he commented, trying to hide his excitement even though his palms were already sweaty round the cup in his hand, “ that's uh...an achievement in itself...”
Bill just smiled and walked closer to his twin's sitting place while Tom tried his hardest not to stare too noticeably at his brother's groin but instead focus on that pretty face of his.
“So umm...” Tom nervously tugged a couple of dreads behind his ear, “I assume this is a message for me?” He asked, gesturing at the black and gold script winding its way all around his brother's body.
Bill nodded, the smile turning up a notch, becoming something between ominous and seductive as he did a full turn in front of Tom, his arms raised at shoulder level, letting Tom inspect the artwork.
“Like it?”
Tom studied the script trying to make out individual words as his brother paraded himself in front of him but his attention was sidetracked when he saw the symbols marching up and down the insides of his brother's thighs.
“I think it may take some time to read that...” Tom pulled himself to his feet, holding out his hand for Bill to take, “so why don't we take this to some quiet place where I can fully appreciate the artwork, huh?” He purred, taking his brother's hand and pulling him up the stairs with him, back to his private rooms. Bill's pearly laughter echoed off the long halls before Tom pulled the door back into its lock behind them.
tbc...
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