Gladiator Slash Fanfiction

Author: Melinda UserTinkerbell16@cs.com & Nia

Pairing: Maximus/Cicero/Quentin (Norman Reedus, BOONDOCK SAINTS, GOSSIP, DARK HARBOR), and Commodus

Details: This continues from Love and Death, part VIII

Rating: NC-17

Disclaimers: Yes, I DO NOT own Maximus or anyone else in the Gladiator movie (I think Russell Crowe is scrumptious). I also don't own any characters from the movie listed above, I just think Norman Reedus is a great match for Maximus. So who ever owns the rights to these characters please don't sue, I'm a poor college student just trying to relax from studies. This is just for enjoyment. I will never make any money off of this, but I hope people like what I write

Archive: yes

Name: Savior, Part IX

Savior

by Melinda

After talking with Valerius, Maximus felt a little better. He wasn't at peace with the idea of sending Cicero and Quentin away, but he knew that he could prepare himself better for what was ahead of him, without the interference of the boy.

Maximus nodded at the soldiers standing guard and entered his tent. He searched the tent for Quentin and Cicero, but found the place eerily quiet and empty. The quiet made Maximus edgy. He then remembered he had shut Quentin out of his thoughts, not wanting the boy to become frightened. He had been so engrossed in shielding Quentin from what had been going on in the Emperor's tent, the confusion he had felt afterwards that he hadn't sensed Quentin leave.

Maximus relaxed, breathed deeply and opened his mind up. He smiled to himself as the image of Quentin with his horse came to his mind. He could sense that Quentin was agitated, trying to keep himself busy. He also felt that Quentin wasn't even aware of him searching for him which caused a rise of alarm in him. Quentin was wide open for anyone to approach him. Maximus turned and left his tent, nodding at the guards again, as he headed towards the stalls. He paused in mid stride and went back to the soldiers standing guard.

"Tell me, did you see where my servant, Cicero, had gone?" He asked the young soldier on the left. Maximus could tell the man was nervous, which was good. If the man had been complacent with the task of guarding his tent, Maximus would have not been pleased.

"Sir, I saw the older servant walk towards the mess tent. The younger servant went towards the horse stalls, sir." The soldier snapped to attention and offered his information promptly, like the skilled soldier he had been trained as.

Maximus nodded at this information and turned to walk to the stalls. His awareness of the camp activity was now open and searching. He wasn't sure if it was his own nerves being on edge, making his senses more keen to the activity going on around him or if there was an urgency rippling through the camp about something Maximus wasn't aware of. Maximus picked up his pace, not liking the charge in the air that seemed to surround the camp.

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Quentin turned, sensing too late that someone else was in the stall with him. He recognized the man from Maximus' mind and knew immediately who he was. He knew this was the man who had hurt Cicero and the fear in Quentin rose quickly. But before he could move away, Commodus grabbed his arm, pulling him close to his rock hard body, his desire pressing into the boy's slim hips. He gently brushed his fingers over Quentin's cheek, taking in the softness.

At the moment of skin to skin contact, Quentin groaned. He threw his head back, trying to disengage from Commodus, but the man had an iron grip on his arm. Quentin cringed, wanting to get away from this man, from the wave of nausea tearing through him. Commodus pulled Quentin up against him, roughly, grinding his hips harder against the boy's. He leaned towards Quentin's face, breathing deeply of Maximus' scent, his need throbbing painfully between his legs as the image of Maximus laying with this boy became ever present in his mind.

"Do not pull away from me! Don't you know who I am?" Commodus spoke quietly, his lips against Quentin's ear. Quentin shivered convulsively, having this overwhelming urge to vomit. Commodus' thoughts and feelings were so dark, so threatening, he could sense that this man could take him over completely. He tried to push Commodus out of his mind, but found that it was impossible. Quentin realized that Commodus wasn't even aware of him being in his mind, because Quentin knew that if this man had any idea that Quentin could see his thoughts, feel his emotions, he might have worked harder at not flooding Quentin with his sickness. He swallowed hard, wanting to cry, forcing the tears back. He couldn't show this man weakness. Quentin could see that he would enjoy that display. He tried to search for Maximus but was unable to push past Commodus' thoughts.

Commodus, using one hand to hold the boy close to him, took his other hand and slid it down Quentin's pants. He grabbed Quentin's small penis, pulling on him, teasing him. At his touch, Quentin lost control and urinated, in fear, all over Commodus' hand. Instead of being repulsed, Commodus smiled and brought the hand to his nose, smelling the fear in the urine. He then wiped his hand roughly on Quentin's pants. He leaned in closer, breathing in Quentin's smell, enjoying the sense of power he had over this one.

"You smell of him." Commodus whispered. Quentin whimpered, trying to pull away. Commodus licked his cheek slowly, enjoying the fear that was showing on the boy's face. "You taste of him!" He pressed his body against Quentin's, wanting the boy to feel his hardness, his excitement at being near the boy.

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As Maximus was walking towards the stalls, he was assaulted by so much fear that it knocked the wind out of him. Maximus bent forward slightly, taking in deep breathes, searching his mind when the image of Commodus and Quentin flashed before him. Feeling Quentin's fear, he started running towards the stalls.

The Praetorians were leaning against the fence along side the stalls, knowing that the Emperor's son would take awhile with the entertainment he had cornered inside. The Praetorians had been ordered by Commodus that during his excursions with any slaves, they were to remain near, but not by the entrance. Commodus didn't want his guards eyes to wander and see his private world. The Praetorians welcomed this order today, because the Germania winds were blowing cold, bringing the snow in with it. Because of this, they did not see Maximus slip into the stalls.

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As Commodus, once again, slipped his hand down Quentin's pants, Maximus grabbed him, pulling him outside of the stall. Commodus hadn't let go of Quentin, so Quentin stumbled out with him. Maximus knocked Commodus' hands off of Quentin, who fell to the ground.

Once he hit the ground, he started vomiting. He tried to crawl away but his body was wracked with violent spasms as if he had to spew poison from him. Commodus almost fell, but Maximus threw him against the stall, his forearm against Commodus neck. Commodus quit struggling, knowing that Maximus would not hurt him, no matter how much he wanted to.

"This boy belongs to me, Commodus! How dare you touch him!" Maximus, whispered, his face only inches from his. He leaned his entire body against Commodus, pinning him to the wall.

Quentin tried again to crawl away, wanting to move away from Commodus, but couldn't seem to get up. He lay down on his side and curled into a fetal position, closing his eyes tightly, trying to shove Commodus and Maximus out of his mind. His young mind couldn't handle the assault these men were placing on his senses. He started crying softly, trying to control his fear but not doing a very good job of it. He covered his head with his arms.

Praetorian guards surrounded Maximus and Commodus, with swords drawn. Commodus held up a hand, warning his guards to stand back. Not to interfere. He wanted to see how far Maximus was going to take this. He smiled slightly, enjoying the feel of Maximus' body pressed close to his. The sensation of the man's breath on his cheek. He could feel his erection growing, becoming hard, painful. He shifted his weight slightly, pushing his hips into Maximus. Maximus glared at him, recognizing Commodus' need, but not daring to move, not wanting to give this man the edge. But Commodus knew he had won this battle with Maximus. He had finally found a weakness in the General and for Commodus this was immensely pleasurable.

The guards continued to stand ready, but moved back a pace, to give the two men room.

Immediately, the soldiers seeing their General surrounded by Praetorians, ran up and surrounded the guards, swords drawn, ready to defend their General to the death. Commodus could see the loyalty that Maximus was receiving from his men. These men, Rome's legions, were willing to fight for their General even if it meant fighting against the Emperor's son.

Maximus knew that what was going on at this moment should not be happening. He owed his loyalty to Rome, he would die for Rome, yet here he was ready to give it all up for this man laying at this feet. He breathed in slowly, regaining control of his emotions. He could feel the turmoil, the chaos of Quentin's mind and pushed him out. He wanted to reach down and hold Quentin but he knew the situation was too intense. He had to defuse it before someone got hurt. He slowly eased up on Commodus. The smile on Commodus' face was infuriating, but Maximus knew better then to respond to it. His eyes became slits, never leaving Commodus' face but hiding his emotions from the man.

"Don't you ever touch one of my slaves again?" Maximus spoke quietly, the implied threat was delivered with no emotion in evidence.

Commodus didn't like how easily it was for Maximus to regain control of his emotions. He could feel his power over Maximus slipping through his grasp.

Cicero, who had been coming back from the mess hall, had seen the rush of soldiers and ran over, knowing immediately that Quentin and Maximus would be involved. He saw Quentin, curled up, at Maximus' feet. Maximus had Commodus pinned and the atmosphere was extreme. Every one was waiting to see what the two men were going to do. Cicero eased forward, trying to get to Quentin.

Quentin sighed with relief, feeling the presence of Cicero. The relief he felt knowing that Cicero was near by was huge. His head was still spinning with both men vying for center stage in his mind it seemed. Even though Quentin wasn't in Maximus' head, Maximus was still in his. The man felt like this huge hand wrapped around Quentin's mind, which in turn seemed to trap Commodus inside. Quentin was too confused to think.

He tried to crawl away from the two figures. He was moving disjointedly, as if in a haze. He could feel another wave of nausea pass over him and he stopped, curling up again, waiting for the nausea to pass. He focused on Cicero being nearby, pushing as hard as he could, trying to get the two men out of his mind. As he pushed he felt a little of the pressure ease up and he felt Commodus slip out. The residue of this man was still intense, dirty. In his confusion, he wasn't aware that he was feeling the presence of Cicero for the first time.

"Ahhh...Maximus, my warrior, you never cease to amaze me. Always ready to rescue the underdog. Tell me, Maximus, what is it like to bed a boy who can read your thoughts, or is that just a myth told me by a friend of ours ?" Commodus moved forward, leaning close enough to Maximus to whisper in his ear. He darted out his tongue quickly and licked the man's ear reveling in the taste of him. Maximus stepped back, but didn't pull away from Commodus. He hooded his eyes and responded evenly.

"I wouldn't know your Highness." Maximus kept his voice low, not wanting any of the men to hear their conversation. It took everything he had to stay focused on what was in front of him. He had felt a slight shift in Quentin, not sure where this feeling had come from when he knew he had shut the boy out. He didn't have time for this new dilemma, he had to take care of the situation at hand. He released Commodus completely, but he didn't step away from the man, knowing that the danger wasn't over yet.

"Ohhh, Maximus, here comes your other slave to the rescue. My, you do inspire such loyalty from your slaves." Commodus purred.

Maximus didn't look in the direction of Cicero, but he ordered Cicero to take Quentin back to the tent. Cicero stepped between the soldiers and the Praetorian guards, bent over and picked Quentin up. He shivered violently against Cicero, wrapping his arms tightly around his neck. Cicero turned to leave when Commodus spoke to him.

"Tell me, slave, what's it like to be replaced by a younger, prettier, version of yourself?" Commodus spat out at Cicero, still hating this man so much, wanting to hurt this slave for claiming Maximus. Maximus stepped between Commodus and Cicero.

"Leave. Now, Cicero!" Maximus demanded, not wanting any exchange to pass between the two. Commodus looked at Maximus, feeling his desire rise in his groin. The chiseled jaw, the piercing blue eyes. He reached up to touch Maximus, but Maximus stepped back.

"Good day, your highness, and please forgive me for my rudeness and I do hope we have come to an understanding about my slaves." Maximus bowed slightly, never taking his eyes off of Commodus. He turned and started walking away, walking casually between the Praetorians, nodding towards his men, motioning for them to lower their weapons and disperse.

"Maximus!!" Commodus ordered. Maximus stopped and turned to face Commodus again, his men raising their weapons, also. Maximus motioned with his hand for them to sheath their weapons. The men did as ordered, but the Praetorians stayed ready. Commodus walked over to Maximus, leaning close.

"You will be mine, someday Maximus. My father will not live forever, and once I am Emperor you will serve me!" Commodus moved his head near Maximus' chest, breathing in his scent, his nostrils flaring with desire. He looked up at Maximus, coyly. Maximus never showed any emotion during this exchange.

"When that time comes, your highness, I will serve Rome and her people." Maximus bowed once more, turned and walked away. His men dispersed slowly, aware of the tension between their General and the Emperor's son, but were willing to fight to the death for their leader, Maximus.

Commodus smiled, thinking quietly to himself. The slave meant something to Maximus and he could feel his own desire for the him rising. He had also felt something when he touched the boy. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew that Quintus had been right. He was special and he had to have him. Besides, he wanted what Maximus wanted, and he knew he would have it.

continues in
Awareness