Give to Caesar What's Caesar's

That Halloween would mark the first time Eric could breathe the chilly autumn air coming from his bedroom window without the looming shadow of his parents behind him. While yes, he lost the war and still had to go to Harvard as each and every member of his family, he managed to convince them to live on his own and he even got that adorable Victorian house not too far from campus. So, even if the dean and at least a few of his professors were one phone call away from his dad, Eric chose to count his blessings and enjoy the best of his favourite day of the year.

So, as the meticulous control freak he was, Eric planned everything accordingly to get his inner kid dream to come true. He chose the perfect event to attend -- one aimed at people his age, but not ones who would know or care about his notorious family name --, he picked the perfect outfit -- an exclusive Victorian-style suit that only a vampire lord could pull off, sewn by one of his favourite designers -- and had the perfect date -- Caesar, the sweet, handsome guy he met on his very first day in Harvard.

Caesar was a quite unique fellow. When Eric first met him, he was already a cinematographic view, with his muscled back turned as he cleaned some empty classroom's window, a thin layer of sweat making his dark skin glisten under the morning sun. Summer was already on its end, so Eric couldn't help but wonder how he wasn't starting to bundle up like everyone else.

"It's too hot," Caesar said then, and would repeat it every time Eric would ask the same question as he worked shirtless on increasingly colder days. "I'm always too hot."

His words were true, Eric confirmed them with his own hands instead of his eyes that one day he felt specially daring. Caesar's chest was warm and soft, and touching it made Eric's face blush to a close temperature. Contrastingly, though, Caesar kept a cool face, unbothered by the puddle of gay panic he was turning Eric into. He never looked phased, actually, even when his hands went to Eric's waist and Eric confessed his desire to kiss him, practised and far more experienced, like he has been holding him since forever.

Eric wasn't really used to that whole flirting and romancing, having spent his teenage years too scared word might go back to his parents if he looked at his high school crushes' pretty lips and toned bodies for too long. But when it came to Caesar, ever since he got brave enough to invite the man into his house, touching him felt like second nature to Eric. Or, more accurately, being touched by Caesar did.

So although his body always yearned for more, Eric forced himself to wait and make his first time as special as it could be. That night of Halloween, when he'd return home with Caesar, they'd finally make love to each other like in Eric's fantasies. He admired a lot how patient Caesar was with him, even as his bulge strained inside his rather rough osnaburg pants.

In his effort to make the night perfect, Eric had been spending the entire morning cleaning his room. He was still very bad at it, having never done it before living on his own, but he'd be found dead in a ditch before letting his childhood maid discover his stash of dildos and vibrators. Being disastrous at cleaning, though, was what made him trip over a slightly uneven plank in the wooden floor and expose a hidden compartment with an old leather journal. With curiosity overpowering his desire to clean the room, Eric decided he deserved a break and flicked through the yellowed pages, until a familiar name in one of the entries caught his attention.

September

1. Today I took Caesar to my private garden and mustered up the courage to kiss him. He was a bit scared at first, but I assured him everything would be fine if we were discreet.

And that was not the only one. The next entries also had something to say about this Caesar from centuries past, and soon Eric got into the narrative, reading the diary without a pause.

September

1. I wish I could buy Caesar better clothes. A skin as soft as his should be dressed in the finest silk, not this rough negro cloth he has to wear.

2. Caesar said he would marry me if he could. Never before have I wanted so much to buy him from his owner.

3. He finally made me his. I'm sure he loves me. He must love me, if he didn't even ask for money before taking me. Caesar is now sleeping beside me and it's unfortunate that he'll soon have to leave for his master's house. At least he left me something so I don't forget him, even if it's already oozing out of me.

The entries kept the light and romantic tone whenever Caesar was mentioned, and the few ones that didn't include the man were about what Eric inferred were the writer's friends. It was a very interesting dive into the daily life of a noble girl in colonial Massachusetts. One particular entry in October, though, ran some alarm bells in Eric's head, for its tone differed a lot from the others.

October

1. I don't like how these other women get to have a piece of Caesar for themselves. They don't deserve him. He says it's just for the money and I don't doubt it, as his master decided to release one of his men not long ago. But I still hate it, I hate it. If only daddy's business was doing better, I could pay Caesar myself and not let those women touch what's mine.

Eric started to feel bad for the girl, her candid rage not exactly familiar, but at least comprehensible. He would probably feel jealous too if his partner had to sell his body to make ends meet. But as Eric kept reading, the furrow in his brows only deepened, his emotions mirroring the ones scribbled in ink on the paper.

October

1. Caesar will make it up to me tonight, he promised. He says that soon he'll have enough money, that he's been working a lot, and before I can believe it we'll be far, far away from this land of shackles and suffering. I assume I may miss my room and my friends, but being with Caesar will make it all worth it.

2. Today is the worst day of my life. Daddy discovered me and Caesar together and I don't think I have ever seen him this mad before. He said he'll get Caesar dead, gone, far from me and I can't handle it. But no amount of begging stops him from writing a letter to Caesar's owner, demanding a punishment.

3. I woke up nauseous and I noticed my cloth rags were still clean. As thrilled and excited as I am from potentially being with Caesar's child, it pains me I can't even tell him about it, as by now he must be already sailing to Grenada. Will you be fine there on your own, without me? Now I can only hope that the tropical sun won't scorch you to ashes.

4. Father discovered I was with child. He beat me until everything Caesar gave me was nothing but a bloody pulp. I don't want this anymore.

5. Does Caesar's skin burn as hot as my tears? Will his ghost rip the cotton cloth I'll wear as a necklace? Could we ever see each other again?

That was the last entry in the journal. Eric closed it with a heavy feeling in his chest. That was not where he was expecting it to go. Breathing heavily, he placed the journal on his bed and dragged himself to the bathroom to wash his face. The sound of fresh water flowing and the wetness on his face were soothing enough. The hanged girl reflected behind him, blonde curls obscuring her face, were not.

Eric yelped, but could do nothing as the vision came closer and closer and closer. A single blue eye peeked through a curtain of blonde hair, an eerie mirror of his own, and when too similar eyes, nose, lips met, two melded into one.

Caesar couldn't blame her, for he also gathered exes in her searching. No more coming back again and again, with restless dreams of burning fields and bloodied cotton. But when he got into his newest ex's house and touched her through his body, Caesar only burned burned burned, hotter and hotter as the lithe fingers wandered through his abdomen and grabbed his crotch through the rough cotton pants.

Her fingernails were now short and couldn't mark his back like they used to, courtesy of the body she now had, but she sure as hell tried. His dick, though, was still in her possession, hardened and needy of her attention. Caesar wondered if she felt uncomfortable in a body so different from hers, but a single tug in her own hard dick would tell him she found pleasure when he touched it and that was enough for now.

All their clothes were soon discarded on the floor. When she mounted him, high and proud, even as she struggled to accommodate his length inside her new, tight body, that was not as moist as the original one, Caesar lost his breath. She looked beautiful. He had to admit that Eric had taken really good care of his body and also had a pretty face that looked great when rosy and giddy with arousal.

"At last you're back to me," she'd murmur, rolling her hips, contracting her ass in a way that made Caesar see all the stars of the world in the deep blue of her eyes. "Never leave again. You're mine. Mine."

The words were repeated as a mantra. "Mine". Mine like the diamonds she always wore or the coal that warmed her cold winter nights. He'd also warm her with his body, so he was coal. He was hers. Hers. Hers like the brand of white cum she splashed on his chest, her body still shivering from the after effects of her orgasm as Caesar's dick still pulsed inside her.

She made no more effort, she never did. But Caesar's body still burned burned burned, and no matter how much he fucked into her, he could never reach saciety. "I don't think I can keep doing this," he said, a low, breathless grumble of a man edged for way too long. He looked into her eyes as he wiped out the cum in his chest. "You need to go."

He was not hers anymore.

Eric felt like he woke up hyperventilating, and he would have only noticed a new presence in the room when warm hands were caressing his shoulders. Little by little, Eric would calm down and relax into the touch, letting the familiarity of it lull him back to conscience. Looking around, he noticed he was naked. And that he was laying on Caesar, who was also naked. And had a raging boner begging for attention poking Eric on his back.

"Hey," Eric said, slightly embarrassed. He felt kinda bad for making Caesar wait for him for who knows how long, so he didn't waste time and shifted his position in bed so he could give the guy the treatment he deserved. "Kinda happy down here, huh?"

Caesar smirked down at him, big hand fluffing up the blonde curls as Eric nuzzled against his dick. The rosy lips gave small pecks along his length, his warm breath making Caesar shiver. Certainly not from cold, as his thighs were still burning hot when Eric used them as support to engulf him whole in his mouth, gagging with the effort but never backing down.

Even as he came deep down his awaiting throat, he never dropped his temperature, warm skin great for hugging as he was fucked down the mattress, fancy vampire costume and long planned party long forgotten somewhere else, as his brain could only ask for Caesar to go faster, harder, yes please breed me. Cuddling against that furnace of a man in a chilly night like that was perfect for Eric, so he was very surprised by the very next words Caesar said to him.

"I don't think this is working out for me. Sorry."

Eric couldn't get it, really. He wondered if he would ever find another great piece of cock like that, though. With his ass sore, he just turned over in his fluffy bed and went back to sleep under his fancy blankets.

Caesar ended up going to the Halloween party he and Eric planned to go to. It was already at its end, drunk people passed out on the sidewalk and quite a bit of tipsy fellows hooking up out in the open. Those were the conditions he found such a little woman, probably fresh out of high school, just a little older than when he first met the one he searched for so long, braids tied back in a high ponytail and ebony skin glowing under the moon. She looked familiar, somehow, so Caesar went and asked her if they met before.

"I don't think so, but we could meet now." Her smile was bright and cheeky, it reached her beautiful brown eyes. "Name's Venus, what's yours?"

A cool breeze blew through them. His smile mirrored hers.