Pallas slowly opened his eyes and yawned, feeling comfortably lazy and utterly happy. Titus’ deep and regular breath caressed his shoulder and neck, one of the Roman’s arms was possessively flung across him, pulling him close even while he was asleep. A contented smile lit the Greek’s face; he felt sore, yet aware of himself in a way he’d never imagined before. When Pallas closed his eyes, he again felt the vestiges of his lover’s touches as Titus had laid claim to him, had marked him as his. Trapped in the Roman’s embrace, Pallas didn’t dare moving lest he would rouse his companion from sleep.

The sun was already well up, and Pompeii was teeming as ever. The usual sounds of the streets drifted up to the entwined couple on the roof, and it occurred to Pallas that nobody down there had the faintest idea that two happy youths were lying naked above them, out in the open beneath the clear blue sky, hidden from view only by the height of their aerie and the thin blanket on top of them. This thought, which made him feel pleasurably disreputable, along with Titus’ body pressed to his back, caused a thrill of excitement that was immediately echoed by his body. Yet he didn’t move, just closed his eyes and felt the sensations build up in waves, strong and purposeful.

Titus stirred behind him, causing the Greek to moan softly. Somehow his needs had transmitted themselves to the Roman and brought back more intense memories of the past hours. Titus had announced to take him to the stars, and he had been true to his word. “Take me back there again and then again”, Pallas thought with a shiver and gave a start as his lover’s hand sleepily wandered lower in a firm caress that left behind a trace of fire on the Greek’s reddened skin.