bakerstreet | SOMETIMES I DREAM ABOUT YOU EVEN THOUGH I DON'T KNOW YOU

[ Where has he heard it? In a dream, maybe. Alejandro almost says so but then he's being tangled down further and he can't help it, he kisses the side of Hernando's mouth, the underside of his jaw, down his throat. This is not behaving, not even a little, fuck his life. ]

Yes, like that. They called it 'Platonic love' after a while, [ he says, in between gently worrying a bit of soft skin at the juncture of his neck and shoulder. ] Funny how that term went.

[ Erasing the 'boning people of the same gender' aspect, as Romans are wont to do. Alejandro lifts his head-- ] Weird, that you mention Achilles and Patroclus.. when I was a boy I saw this documentary on TV, or something, and for ages after I had dreams of riding a horse on a beach, or through a desert, dressed in that sort of garb. I always figured it was because of that. Dreaming of being Achilles, I guess.

[ It's not behaving but Hernando isn't entirely sure who they're behaving for anymore. He's not going to infect Alejandro with a strange disease from some harmless kissing while they talk.

He responds with a soft huff, all too affected by Alejandro's mouth on his neck. It could almost make him forget his fever. One hand moves to his hair, carding his fingers through it in something that is probably encouragement even though it shouldn't be. ] It's too bad this is only platonic, isn't it? [ His other hand smooths down Alejandro's chest idly. ]

A beach and a desert? How far did Achilles travel? [ He pulls back just slightly to look down at him and—he can see it, weirdly enough, the garb, the desert, the horse... ] It's a good look on you. Armor and a black horse. [ Did he mention the color? ]

[ This has absolutely nothing to do with thinking Hernando is contagious, which he isn't, and everything to do with Alejandro being concerned about the brakes on his self-control if he kisses him properly-- he wants him terribly, and yet there's some spark of concern in his mind still that feels almost unearthly. Like he's seen someone this kind of sick before and he just needs to pay attention for everything to work out. Which is ridiculous, honestly, but it's there in his mind.

What's also ridiculous is this odd stray thought of should our first kiss be me pawing at him while he's ill being cancelled out by a brief surge of faux-memory suggesting but our first kiss was years ago. He's the first person I kissed, and I him. We learned together. Everyone else after had to be judged against that standard and no one could ever compare; they were all just stand-ins while we were apart.

Maybe it is contagious. Maybe he has a fucking fever after all. ]

It'd be a better look on you. [ He can see it. Everything gleaming, even through dust and old blood. Hernando's graceful stature carrying it off, looking like one of those marble sculptures of ancient heroes. ] You'd come with me, wouldn't you? Following Achilles?

[ God, what is he waiting for. Alejandro doesn't give time for an answer - he can't, somehow, this talk of Achilles (of all things!) putting his consciousness into some dreamlike state. He holds the other man's head, fingers tangled in his hair, and kisses him. ]

[ Like Patroclus? It's what he would say if he'd had the chance. He likes the idea of being Patroclus. People don't realize how important he was, that he was able to fight enough like Achilles to trick the opposing army, that without Patroclus Achilles would never have fulfilled his destiny of greatness.

It's a flood of thoughts that come in the split second before their lips touch, and they stop all at once. He responds easily like he's done it a hundred times, no surprise, fitting their bodies together to deepen the kiss.

It's automatic, which is good because his mind has slowed as if trying to process something larger than it should be able to. He's remembering various kisses just like this throughout the ages and they feel so real that it's like a shock. He gasps into the kiss, something that sounds similar to Alexander and the feeling of love is overwhelming. True and undying love.

He pulls back enough to brush their lips together gently but his grip is tight on Alejandro's hip. ] Do you remember...?

[ Achilles couldn't have been Achilles without Patroclus. That's just how it is. But there's this thought he's-- Alexander-- has always had, maybe a blasphemous thought, that Achilles wasn't as lucky as he was. Patroclus was only almost above reproach, ultimately dying because he did something Achilles told him not to. Hephaistion wouldn't do such a thing. No, he wouldn't disobey, but not because of any nature of obedience, but simply because Alexander would never have to order him to do this or that at all. He'd just know. They would just know. Achilles and Patroclus were Achilles and Patroclus, but Alexander and Hephaistion were one person.

Cruelly apart in life. And in death. ]

Gods.

[ He remembers.

He remembers the love of his life dead, having to be dragged from him, having to pretend not to have died with him. Being a walking corpse for almost a year, trying to move on but with the spark of life draining from him every day, suffering something so much worse than heartbreak. Like his soul had been ripped in two.

Alejandro clutches him close and presses another kiss to his mouth, rough and desperate and everything. ]

[ The kiss is perhaps the only thing to say. There are no words for what they're feeling, the losses and gains. He isn't crazy, not when Alejandro has the same memories and feelings. The only strain is reconciling his life now and his life then, but the fever eases the more he allows it.

He lingers in the kiss, tasting Alejandro and knowing that taste in his very being. They have been united again, as close as they've ever been allowed. When he breaks the kiss, it's only a gasp for breath and then— ] I'm sorry. [ He left Alexander alone. The end of his life had been such a blur but that thought had been with him the whole time. He could not leave him, not when everyone wanted something from Alexander, not when it would destroy him so entirely. He has no doubt that Alexander suffered, just as he would if he lost Alexander.

His hands meet at Alejandro's cheeks, holding him there firmly with tender eyes. ] I would never leave you by choice. We couldn't say our goodbyes, is that why—? Why we've been given another chance?

[ Memory itself is easier than it should be-- Alejandro has always been adaptable, in this life and all others, and it's as comfortable as making room on a shelf. It feels more right than anything, like blinders have finally been taken off, and so many odd things about himself finally make sense. Later, when he actually sits down to process everything, it'll be surreal but ultimately fine.

Now he has other priorities. Like clutching Hephaistion close and wondering why his vision is blurring (crying? embarrassing, Alexander). All he wanted was for the universe to give him back, to let them be together again, and it had been months of abject misery without him but now he's here in his arms and touching his face and--

'Overwhelmed' is a word, sure. ]

I never thought you would leave me by choice, of course not. [ He shakes his head. Even then in his grief he couldn't blame the other man. He's a soldier, he's a realist. Men die. Men are killed. It was just crippling to watch a man who was unstoppable in battle go like that and to never know the truth of it-- not even today! (Oh, fuck, he thinks, hopefully Hernando hasn't done any real reading on the subject, does he want Hephaistion to know how badly Alexander lost his mind?) ]

If that's why then I'll never say goodbye to you, [ he whispers fiercely. ] Because it's what brought us back together and I won't, I won't say have this just to say goodbye.

[ It's funny how things work. Hernando always enjoyed classical topics and looked into them in his spare time. Mostly the myths, which were easiest to find, but he'd of course encountered Alexander the Great. There had always been a spark of interests in his conquests and how one man could have done so much in his short life. That's just it—he was always depicted as one man. Hephaistion had not once been mentioned in his casual studies. He is glad for Alexander's fame, that his deeds are spoken of so many years in the future, and is not jealous of it. But how easily Hephaistion had been erased.

What others say, though, has never mattered. There is one man whose opinion he cares for, one man who means more to him than the world. And that man is looking gorgeous even with damp eyes. He leans in and plants kisses against his eyelids. ] It won't be like that again. We have so much time now—now that we have medicine. [ He moves his IV awkwardly. ] But you... were not long after me, were you? The year you died... You were young, but no one has ever stopped talking about you. Do you know how they talk about you? No wonder I had such a crush the moment I read about you.

[ He's babbling, he's so happy. They have a lifetime to catch up on. He pressed their lips together softly. ] Maybe it's not a goodbye. It's a second chance. We can be together, truly, now.

[ It's insane to him, that Hephaistion is so overlooked. Not surprising, given the poisoned political atmosphere of everywhere, it seems, but still shameful and outrageous. How could one man do all that alone? How could one man do any of it and not have a foundation of support and love? How could one man who was very good at tactics but ignorant of bridge construction get to Tyre. And a hundred, thousand other things. Then, the world felt so enormous and time so slow, every moment so grand and new that it could never be forgotten. Were all his generals, their friends really so hateful and jealous that they demolished their own history?

~~Should have livetweeted it.~~

Alejandro kisses him in between his babbling, unable to help himself, just desperate to feel him and love him. They both look so different but when he looks at Hernando - Hephaistion! - he sees him as though he's looking into his soul, and there's no question or curiosity. Well, alright, a little curiosity. He is very beautiful. Again. ]

I think maybe I'll just delete everything-- [ everything yes, all of history, ctrl-x out of existence ] about that last year, actually-- [ another kiss, this one longer. ]

We can. [ He almost laughs. ] We'll start where it stopped.

[ So they don't get childhood together again - that's alright, they had one already. They didn't get this the first time around, living on, growing old together. They're doing dangerous work but there's no political court, no on vying to kill either of them. They can just... have each other. ]

It's too bad, then, that you got recorded everywhere you went. As if any part of you could ever be erased. [ They probably look ridiculous, tangled in the mess of Hernando's bed, an IV being pulled this way and that, unable to get full sentences out without kissing. But he wouldn't change it—except, he tries to roll them over in something that might resemble a wrestling move but he's caught in the IV and hisses. ]

I told you not to call a medic. Imagine what we could do if I weren't bedridden. [ The innuendo is clear in the curve of his lips but he means far beyond the bed as well. They are at their best when they have each other—imagine everything they could accomplish.

He rolls into his back to give the IV a break, fingers twitching over his stomach. He can't tell if it still hurts or if it's a memory. ] I suppose our remains weren't allowed to be mingled. [ But then how did they reappear to each other? He's curious about his own death, what they did for him. He could not appear as a ghost to Alexander like Patroclus. ]

[ Alejandro's eyes go soft and concerned, shifting to accommodate a more comfortable position, reaching over to make sure the IV isn't knotted anywhere before settling on his side against the other man. ] I won't hear any complaints over medical treatment, my love.

[ Phantom pain or not, Hernando was clearly ill when Alejandro walked in earlier. Maybe he's just very hungover, who knows, but it turns his stomach to knots thinking about just ignoring it. This is the rest of your life, Hernando, every time you so much as get a cold you're going to have him hovering. His death haunted Alexander-- the grief possessed him, became his whole world. Alejandro doesn't want to talk about it, which feels so pressing just behind his eyes as it's the last of his memory; maybe Hernando will look it up later, just how bad he got, but Alejandro doesn't want to tell him. It's pure madness looking back on it; he slaughtered a whole tribe just to have human sacrifices alongside Hephaestion's funeral pyre, shaved his head, banned music, forced the whole of his empire into mourning. ]

I asked the oracle, and you were made a divine hero, [ he murmurs. Actually, he'd more or less demanded he be made a god, like they'd decided Alexander was, but he was pacified by the declaration divinity none the less. Perhaps that was what spelled his own doom: as soon as he knew he could be reunited with his alter ego in the afterlife, he no longer saw a point to the mortal realm. ]

[ Perhaps he hasn't changed so much. He thought of himself as indestructible, at least until these memories of being weak and sick in a bed. Not even taken out through battle, just sick like a dog for a week. Gone without Alexander by his side.

He understands the pain it brings. He doesn't push, the answer is all he needs. ] Thank you. I knew you would send me off with honor. [ It's pointless to think about the details. He is alive with Alexander and that is enough for him. He moves his hand to trace the outline of Alejandro's face. ] There must be others like us. People we know [ Someone has to say it. The names that come to mind aren't the best. ] Perdiccas, maybe.

You had a son. [ That neither of them were alive for. ]

I don't care about anyone else, [ he murmurs. A cold sentiment, perhaps, but he knows it's true. He had other friends - even close ones - other lovers, a family. And yet when Hephaestion died, nothing and no one else mattered. It was as if Alexander had died with him, but he was perversely, horrifyingly trapped in the wrong realm without him.

And then... his son. Alejandro's face falls, and he looks away. ]

What an awful fate, for anyone to have my blood.

[ Cassander. What he wouldn't give to have killed him instead of Kleitos. ]

[ Cold, but not uncalled for. How many people could Alexander trust at the end of his life? All the dissent and betrayals had taken their toll, and without Hephaestion...

But he recalls their idle plans for children who would play together, who would unite their bloodlines, back when both of them thought they had so much time left. He nudges Alejandro's cheek, encouraging him to look back. Don't stop looking at him quite yet. ]

It may not have been ichor, but it was not your blood that betrayed him. [ He doesn't know the details but he can assume fairly well. If only he'd lived, he would have protected Alexander's son. ] There was nothing you could have done. For everything you gave them, loyalty could not be bought.

We owe nothing to them, if you would rather forget. Remember only the good.

I want to remember, [ he says quietly, and noses against the other man's temple before placing a kiss there. ] Later. Right now I only want to remember you. I only want you.

[ It's been hundreds, thousands of years, and even though they've only lived these two lives, Alejandro thinks he can feel every day of the space between in his bones. ]

I won't ever part from you again.

[ --is probably not literally accurate, given they have such a history of working so well even apart, as though telepathic, the same person in two places at once. But that's the only notion he'll accept right now. ]

Of course. [ For all his reputation as a balancer, they are too similar more often than not, particularly when it comes to each other. He spent his life with Alexander and the separations hardly felt that way when they were symbols of trust and respect for Hephaestion's abilities.

But he wasn't the one who had to live without the other. Anything Alejandro wants, he will give it as an apology. ] You have me the way you always have. So long as you're mine. You know I never minded sharing you but now... What we do for the world will be different. It won't take you from me.

When have I ever not been yours, [ he murmurs, still nuzzling against him as the other man speaks. Three wives, other lovers, and always, always coming back to Hephaestion. Even when they quarreled, it was as though Alexander's life was frozen in time until they sorted it. But he raises his head and smiles, brilliant and heartfelt. ]

We can get married.

[ Alejandro's state of residence, Nuevo León, is still a little on the sketchy side about issuing same-sex marriage licenses, but that doesn't actually matter; there are no restrictions in Mexico City, and they're recognized federally. ]

[ He knows throughout everything, Alexander was still the man he grew up with, god or not. They would still spend nights in his tent discussing plans, joking, more. He never grew too big.

It was not the wives or lovers that bothered him, he expected and supported those that were good for Alexander. It was never a concern that they would take his place. But sharing him with the world, his duty, watching the stress and betrayals destroy him, that was painful. ]

Married. [ It's said thoughtfully, fancifully. He will still have to share Alejandro with the world, that is who he is, but less so now. Had they not promised each other practically the same, til death do them part? ]

Is that your best proposal? [ There's a grin, certainly not needing more than a suggestion to say yes. He leans in for a kiss, slow and a little desperate, lasting only a few moments. ] Of course we'll get married. Our souls have been united all this time, we might as well get the legal benefits. [ He takes Alejandro's hand, examining his ring finger. ] I'll get the rings. Whatever you like, it's yours.

[ The dedications to Achilles and Patroclus, marrying sisters, insisting Hephaestion be declared divine-- of course they'll get married. It's what they always wanted. Not that it'll make a difference in how they feel about each other or how they live day to day, but the symbolic achievement - at last! - feels so significant to Alejandro. ]

I don't care if they're plastic rings, [ he breathes against Hernando, and steals another kiss, longer, just as desperate. God, but he wants him. He'd better be feeling well by tomorrow or Alejandro may just go insane. ] What kind of proposal would you like, mi vida?

[ He ends up scoffing into the kiss and then apologizes with another, peppering kisses from his lips to his jaw. Look, it's just difficult to go from Alexander being his king to plastic rings. Sure, he understands the meaning but. Still. ]

You're not going to wear plastic. I would have had myself executed for that. [ Alejandro can probably feel his smile, though, especially as he lowers his head to mouth at his neck. ] Oh, I don't know. I thought you of all people would like something extravagant. Maybe a second take when I'm not laid up in bed. Or put all the extravagance into our honeymoon?

[ Alejandro makes a slightly comical disgruntled noise at Hernando's incredulity, and sits up on one elbow to lean halfway over him-- and nips at his lower lip in protest of the executed comment. ]

I'll wear anything or nothing, for you. I'm not a king anymore, and you're not a general. We're just men. [ He kisses him soundly, making a low noise of abject desire into it. If he weren't laid up indeed.

But: ] If you want extravagance you'll have it. That means you have to go to sleep now, though.

We've always been men. [ Depending on when you asked Alexander, he supposes. But the lines between the king and his second were never strongly drawn, he knows that. It was not the king he loved, it was Alexander. ] But you deserve the very best, my fiancé.

So long as you don't leave this bed, I'll sleep. [ But it speaks to how exhausted he is that he is not protesting. He flicks his tongue against Alejandro's lips as a promise for later, then lies back. Hs eyelids are heavy and fall completely, his breathing slowing. ]

[ Alejandro is not going to miss the megalomania, let me tell you. He doesn't particularly want to think of himself as a demigod, either. He remembers-- in pieces like a watercolor coming together-- his mother, her ravings, the fire it inspired in him.

No. That's not what he wants back.

What he wants is here, right now, with him. ]

Then sleep.

[ Because I'll never leave you again. Alejandro settles against him, staying awake to hear and feel him breathe, to let his scent become a part of him. Hernando is so... vibrant and steady at once, always captivating Alejandro since they were children. How foolish they've been. But it doesn't matter; they have each other now.

Alejandro only dozes, but he still dreams. ]

SOMETIMES I DREAM ABOUT YOU EVEN THOUGH I DON'T KNOW YOU

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