Work Text:
Antony’s arms loosened their hold, but he still let himself remain tangled with Lucilius. Their breaths were slowing down, the simmering heat between them cooling to a satisfying warmth. Lucilius’s hair was damp against Antony’s neck, smoke still clinging to it. Antony never questioned his appetites, but now guilt irritated his stomach. Brutus was in their hair and rutting against one another seemed the only sensible thing to do.
In one motion, Lucilius got up and fled.
Antony laid there motionless while the smell of their sweat and semen turned to rot. Brutus interred, himself bedded, both laid to rest.