Leonides' face broke into huge a smile, his blue eyes as bright as the sky. He looked the same but different, his features sharper, shoulders broader, but he had the same generous mouth and mop of gold curls that fell hopelessly over his brow. He was a man but he was also the boy who gave Antinous his tablet when no one would give him so much as a kind word.

"Antinous," he repeated. "I thought I'd never see you again."

A solitary eagle screeched overhead. The entire amphitheatre was silent watching him, Hadrian most closely of all.

Antinous turned to the Emperor. "I don't know him."

The light left the athlete's eyes and his expression twisted with hurt and confusion.

"We—we went to Caelian Hill together."

Antinous, again speaking only to Hadrian, said, "I don't remember him."

The Emperor beckoned Antinous and he rose from the dais still clutching the laurel wreath. Hadrian looked very carefully in his lover's eyes and then at his hands. They weren't shaking.

He turned to the athlete. "My beloved has many admirers. What is your name?"

"Leonides, son of Maximianus. I am a legionnaire in the Roman army."

His father was in the senatorial box with a frown on his face. He had aged two decades in the five years since Leonides left for Judea. They were estranged. He did not cheer for his son. Hadrian considered this. The Emperor was at odds with the senate and commanded the army. Leonides chose to join the legionaries, which meant he chose to serve his Caesar instead of his own father.

He motioned for Antinous to place the laurel on his head. Leonides kneeled and Antinous once again willed his hands not to shake. He never imagined he would ever stand so close to Leonides again. It was like a dream: he wanted to take in every lock of hair, every inch of smooth skin, his scent—like juniper and iron—and commit it all to memory before he woke up.

Antinous tucked the wreath into the forest of blonde curls and stepped back. He thought their exchange was over when Hadrian said to Leonides, "Now kiss his hand."

Surely he would not ask him to kiss the hand of his consort in front of the man's father! Was this an insult or another test? Or was it perhaps a peace offering? Was Hadrian was telling him that he was more than just a consort? Having his subjects kneel before him and kiss his hand may have been his way of bringing honour to Antinous' position.

On his knees, Leonides took his hand in front of the entire amphitheatre without shame. Hadrian had gotten on his knees for Antinous countless times of course but only in the privacy of their bedchamber. Never when the world was watching.

Terrified of revealing his true feelings, Antinous held out his hand limply. He was as cold as the gold serpent on his finger.

Leonides shut his eyes and pressed a kiss on the top of his hand. Antinous the schoolboy would have died a thousand times to receive such a kiss. His old friend's lips were warm and they lingered. A rush of blood crept up Antinous' neck.

He snatched his hand back.

Leonides was wounded when Antinous stretched out on the dais and snapped his fingers for the slave to bring him more grapes.

Hadrian shrugged apologetically, as if Antinous' insolence was a mere inconvenience, like having a pet that bites.

Before he returned to the arena, Hadrian asked the athlete to join him at his villa that evening for a banquet held in the victors' honour.

"Join us. I want to feast with the fastest man in Rome."

Antinous was screaming inside. He could not be around Leonides another moment! It was too dangerous!

During the wrestling match, Remus went to the senators' box to greet his brother Romulus. He was seated beside the consul, who presided over the senate. Like his brother he had a gift for getting close to men in high places.

Antinous took his seat beside Commodus.

The aristocrat leaned forward and watched the wrestlers with rapt attention.

"May I speak with you?"

He waved him away. "Not now, miscreant."

"Why are the legionnaires back from Judea?"

He threw up his hands. "No wonder Hadrian trusts you with state secrets. You don't listen to a word he says."

Antinous stared blankly.

"Tensions have all but ceased in Judea. The provincial governor says the revolutionaries have been subdued. It's no surprise if you ask me. Jews were bound to get tired of fasting and abstinence eventually."

"You deny yourself food."

"Yes, but I do it for beauty. It's completely different."

He didn't have time to untangle that thread of logic.

"When are they going back?"

A wrestler in the arena ripped the tunic of another and pinned him to the ground. Their glistening chests heaved against one another

"The legionnaires? They're not. We're in peacetime. Enjoy it." He grinned. "I know I plan to."

In the carriage, Antinous wrung his hands, dreading that evening's banquet. The streets of the metropolis were blocked with carts, pedestrians and an ox that had collapsed from the heat.

Hadrian read his fear as sorrow.

"I feel badly about last night," he said. "I hope you know I don't enjoy being cruel to you."

"I know."

"Then why do you disobey me?"

"I don't know."

The Emperor sighed. He drew Antinous' head onto his lap and stroked his hair. The crowds caught a glimpse of him inside the carriage and cheered his name. All he could hear was Leonides' voice. All he could feel was the shame of shunning him.

🌿

The genius of Rome lay not in its infrastructure, its laws, or its culture but its strategic location. Nestled behind two mountain ranges that protected it from attack, it also sat alongside the Tiber River, with access to the trade route from the Mediterranean.

The Tiber brought goods from across the Empire and beyond. Octopus from the depths of the sea, plums from Alexandria, game from the wilds of Libya would arrive daily by boat. There was no fruit that was out of season, no animal too exotic.

At dusk one could hear the animals bray and squeal as they were being slaughtered. To most it was the sound of celebration but to Antinous it would always be the sound of sacrifice.

Gone were the ornate flower arrangements of Hadrian's previous lover, Commodus. Now the banquet hall reflected Antinous' tastes: low lit, rustic, with garland, and pillowed divans of the Greek symposia, similar to those attended by Alexander and his teacher Aristotle. It was fitting for their modest guests even if Commodus thought it looked like "Macedonian slave quarters" as he so eloquently put it.

Orodes helped Antinous change into an embroidered tunic. Hadrian had relieved the slave of his duties for the evening but Orodes served even when it wasn't expected of him. He said he did not know what to do with his time otherwise. Those empty hours filled him with more sadness than work.

He donned dozens of gold bracelets and a ring on each finger. If he was going to convince Leonides that he was nothing more than the spoiled plaything of the Emperor, he had to look the part. He simply had to get through this night, a few more hours, and Leonides would return safely to his barracks and forget all about him.

He accentuated his eyes with lines of black paint.

"How do I look?" he asked Orodes.

"Like Mark Antony upon his return from Egypt!"

"An enemy of the state?" He frowned.

"A charming enemy."

Orodes dabbed perfume on his neck and wrists and his transformation into insufferable palace consort was complete.

The Emperor was already seated at the head table when Antinous entered the banquet hall. He leaned forward, the folds of his purple toga draped over the cushioned chair. He viewed Antinous wearing all of the jewels that he had given him with satisfaction. It was a symbol of his beloved's obedience, like a dog tying his own leash around his neck.

"You look like me!" exclaimed Commodus, swishing the wine in his goblet. The highest of compliments coming from him.

The athletes were better behaved than the aristocrats. They were grateful for the food and the chance to rest their weary bones. Quietly they tore into the bread and lamb shank, savouring the foreign spices.

Out in the banquet hall Leonides was not eating but watching the Emperor's table. He was in his uniform. Leather breastplate and apron, a sword sagging on his hip and a red cloak fastened with two gold medallions around his shoulders. Beside him sat his helmet, iron with a plume of dyed horsehair. Their eyes met.

Antinous threw his arms around Hadrian's neck and kissed his cheek.

"What was that for?"

"Do I need a reason?"

There were chants for the victors and legionary songs that everyone seemed to know the words to but him because he had never served in or commanded the army. He remained silent like the women. They often reminded him of Ovid's Philomena, who had her tongue cut out after she was raped by Tereus so she would never tell. Tereus needn't have bothered because even if Philomena could speak, no one would have listened to her anyway.

He tried not to pay special attention to the athletes, but when Hadrian's head was turned he scanned the banquet tables for Leonides. He didn't see him. He panicked and feared the worst.

Wandering the room, he pretended he wanted to greet Remus, who in actuality was the last person on earth he wanted to speak to. He needed an excuse to move and get another vantage point of the banquet hall.

Hadrian's eyes followed him.

He slid his arm around Remus' neck. "Evening, friend. How is your brother? I saw you speaking with him at the games."

The aristocrat seemed suspicious but played along.

"Romulus has been elected to junior office."

"You must be envious."

He tipped an oyster shell to his lips letting the salty creature slide down his throat with a gulp.

"Hardly," he replied, "I have my sights set on another seat." His eyes darted between Hadrian and Commodus who were whispering to each other.

Always ten steps ahead, Remus did not need to be told that Commodus would be named Hadrian's successor. Nor did he need to be told that one day Commodus would need to name a successor of his own.

He certainly had the right lineage for it. Remus' blood was bluer than ink. Like Commodus' line, his family name could be traced back to the gods. Perhaps that's why they both lived to torment him.

There was no sign of Leonides.

He poured himself another cup of wine and roamed around the room, bestowing a kind word upon the courtesans. They pulled him onto their divan and pinched his cheeks. As the Emperor's consort, he wasn't permitted to have many friends, but these women kindly took him under their wing.

They were enchanted by the athletes. While the men discussed the games, they were in their own heated discussion about what hid beneath those tunics. They never ceased to make him blush.

When Hadrian was sufficiently distracted, he inched his way along the hanging tapestry and snuck out the portico into the cool night air. The villa was quiet. Distant buildings looked like ships in the dark. Lit torches crackled in the wind and the many pools reflected the light of the moon and stars.

"I knew you would come looking for me."

Antinous nearly jumped out of his skin. Leonides was leaning against the marble wall with his arms crossed over his leather breastplate. Though they were the same height now, he was just as disarming as he was when they were younger. Antinous felt like he was twelve years old again, spying on him behind a colonnade in the school courtyard.

"I was getting some air," he stammered. "I must go back inside."

"It's a nice night. Stay, we could—"

"I can't."

"Antinous, wait." He grabbed his wrist. His hand was large and warm. "I've missed you."

He hated what he was about to say but he had no choice. "I have not missed you."

Leonides furrowed his brow and his shoulders fell. He never was able to conceal his emotions. When he felt something, he felt it deeply and his entire body gave him away. This was so unlike Hadrian who guarded his feelings behind a battle line.

"Why are you acting this way?"

"I am the consort of the Emperor. I act whichever way I please. Now unhand me."

"I don't believe you."

"You've been gone five years, Leo!" He hid the quiver in his voice. "People change. I've changed."

Leonides touched his bracelets and thumbed the paint at the corner of his eye. "This isn't you."

"You presume to know who I am?"

"The Antinous I knew would rather wield a sword than wear jewels. He'd rather participate in the games than look down his nose at the athletes from the stands."

In that moment Antinous didn't know if he was grieving the loss of their friendship or the person he might have become.

They didn't have much time. Someone would soon come looking for him.

"I waited for you the night I left for Judea. Why did you not come?"

Though he kept beating him back, Leonides withstood his blows.

"I... Forgot."

"No you didn't."

So he delivered a final blow.

"I suppose you imagined that I cared for you more than I did."

He didn't have a response to that.

There, it was done, Antinous thought as he walked miserably back inside. Leonides would leave him alone and he would be safe.

There was singing and merriment in the hall. Commodus was the center of attention with his dancing, while Remus played the flute beside him. A few of the young wrestlers were drawn into their web and probably had little idea of what the two aristocrats had in store for them that night.

Hadrian was surrounded by intoxicated generals. He never drank to excess but liked to pretend he did to study others as they revealed their true selves. One did not happen upon power by accident and one did not maintain it by being complacent.

Antinous leaned over and whispered in his ear, "I'm retiring for the evening."

"You must be tired, my beloved."

He nodded sleepily.

The chime of his bracelets stirred the Emperor. He stroked his beard. They had reconciled and Antinous had finally emerged from his mood. He wanted to take advantage of his sudden sweetness.

"I'll join you."

They left the banquet hall to return to his domus, fingers entwined. Antinous' curls swept across his cheek and the scent of his perfume sailed on the winds of the Tiber. Hadrian was overcome. He pressed the boy up against a statue and kissed him.

A shadow shifted in the moonlight.

Leonides was still standing by the pool exactly where Antinous had left him.

"I'm sorry," he said coldly. "I did not mean to intrude."

"Ah, it's no bother Leonides, son of Maximianus. You are my honoured guest."

He shook his head. "I should not have been lurking on your private grounds."

"Nonsense. You and the other victors are welcome to spend the night here in my villa."

Antinous gave him a sharp look. Spend the night? When would this torment end?

"Many congratulations again on your victory today."

"You are most kind, Caesar, but I always win."

This made Hadrian smile. The Emperor liked boldness in a soldier. He wrapped his arms around Antinous' waist from behind and rested his chin on the boy's shoulder.

"Remember, Leonides, you may be the fastest man in Rome but I am the luckiest."

A/N: Let the battle of the boyfriends begin💥

No promises but the next chapter *might* be in Leonides' POV. I'm dying to show you what's going through his mind right now. Let's just say his thoughts about Antinous are far from pure.

I was scrolling through tumblr the other day, as one does, and I came across this painting of a boy posing as Mercury by Isidore Pils (1813-1875) Étude pour Mercure. It looks just like my little Antinous! Bless. I love it and had to share.  

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