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From: [personal profile] dr_libra_phd
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Part 2
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(Nicolo)

Cairo, 12th century


It felt like he pulled hair.

"...much better than the others..."

He hoped the merchant did not. The first time one did, his scalp bled and the fear of discovery of his scalp healing distracted him from the panic that the object crushing against his tongue was choking him.

But the man never noticed after he spent all over his hair, his eyes and his bruised lips.

And the coin slipped boldly into his pockets by sweaty greasy hands smelling of cardamom. The coin was enough for a half full sack of breads and cheese. Even a modest slab of dried meat and a bowl of withered figs.

It was fine. Letting his hair untied covered the occasional healing scalp from notice. The bored merchants who sailed in and out of the docks seemed to like it as well.

Hands clawed the back of his ears, nails carving deep. Blood wept behind his ears and pooled sticky and hot along his clavicle. The man above him panted, breath quickening, his pace sharper and deeper.

Oh, he thought numbly. That is new.

The merchant sold gems from afar even boasting from the Papal States. Gems, he was going to call him Gems as he dutifully dropped to his knees and closed his eyes. He did not want to know the merchant's real name. Gems sails off tomorrow. He was here recommended by another and had his crew yanked him off the docks and onto his ship.

Thick fingers poked his lids, pulling away from using his ears like reins to tug his face deeper into the bristly nest of hair and the...object. Gems rode his mouth like he was a horse.

"...let me see your eyes, your pretty eyes," Gems panted as he continued to grunt and jerk, colliding into his face. Rough clothing that smelled like the sea Gems arrived from, scratched his smooth cheeks. He panicked again. Briefly, before he remembered he'll heal from any scratches, unlike the stale, musky scent of white crusted into his scrape of a beard. Just as well he shaved it off. He was often mocked for its poor appearance and it was easier to wash the smell off his face before returning to Yusuf.

A hand gripped his chin, jerked him up until his neck strained from the stretch. The object slid all the way in salty and thick. Air disappeared. His eyes burned as he struggled to breathe.

"I paid to see your eyes as well," Gems snarled. Hips snapped forward faster, the changed angle more painful as the object scraped the inside his throat and pushed his tongue to cut over his lower teeth.

Dutifully, Nicolo opened his eyes.

Gems moaned. The object in Nicolo's mouth twitched, but before he could escape, Gems grunted, ramming the object deeper. Unbidden, Nicolo grunted around the hardness forcing him to otherwise stay silent.

"Your eyes," Gems moaned as he spilled into Nicolo's convulsing throat. "Dirar and Khalîl were correct. It is like fucking the wretched seas."

Bitter fluid flooded Nicolo's mouth and seemed to fill his nostrils, but Gems refused to release him. He shuddered and drowned Nicolo, the object in his mouth shriveling as it emptied down Nicolo's throat like his swollen mouth was a chamber pot.

"I would pay to keep you," Gems babbled as he weakly rocked into Nicolo's mouth. There was a brief respite from seeing Gems as Nicolo's face was crushed into the sweaty coarse hair between his thick legs. A pull and he was blind, a yank and he was forced to stare up at the fleshy cheeks wobbly as he gazed down at Nicolo with sick triumph.

"Keep your mouth for me, reward my crew, but alas, my wife..."

The reminder of marital obligations finally loosened Gems's grip. Nicolo jerked his head back, but too late, Gems chuckled as he splattered all over Nicolo's chin, the remnants of release and spittle that stretched from Nicolo's lips like a thread from a web.

Nicolo dropped on his haunches, his chest heaving as he struggled not to gag, his stomach roiling at the taste.

"I also paid you to swallow."

Nicolo glared up at Gems. His eyes lowered and as his stomach clenched, Nicolo took care to show him swallowing. It was pointless: the object thrust so deep, there was nowhere else for it to go but curdle sour in Nicolo's belly.

A fist size bag of coins dropped to Nicolo's feet.

"Money well spent," Gems crooned. He shifted in his chair, the captain's seat that stood in the center of the cabin like a throne. Nicolo was dragged through the ship deck, past leering, knowing faces and tossed into the cabin. Nicolo expected Gems when the sun started to descend. When the sun was half visible in the sky, Nicolo desperately hoped it meant Gems forgot or found a more willing mouth.

He didn't forget. And he didn't care if Nicolo's mouth wasn't entirely willing.

But he could buy the paper now. And with some respectful haggling, one of the vendors might sell this pale face a vial of precious ink for Yusuf's beautiful art. He came back one night and found the gleaming patterns of gold and red decorating the corner of a page. Yusuf had dismissed it later. Practice he said, but when Nicolo held the vision on paper that night, he wept. His people rampaged into the continent to eradicate people like Yusuf who spun such visions onto mere paper. His hands felt as crude as Gems's holding the scraps of paper.

"I do not leave until late morrow," Gems said slyly. "Perhaps you wish to break fast on my cock before my ship leaves."

Nicolo rose to his knees, willing them to lock. He straightened his clothing, pretending he did not care Gems watched him with an amused smirk. Nicolo hefted the bag of coins into his fist.

"I do not wish," Nicolo said coldly.

Gems snorted and his neck fat rolled as he shook his head.

"They were right about you," Gems murmured. "You have a fire that begs to be conquered. A proper pounding into you would snuff that fire out."

Nicolo narrowed his eyes. He settled a hand over the hilt of a dagger--the other thing they allowed him to keep on him. It excited Gems the way the hilt knocked into his calves as he fucked Nicolo's mouth with his--

No, do not think about it.

"I am leaving now," Nicolo announced. He retrieved his long sword propped by the door. "We will not see each other again."

"Perhaps," Gems demurred. He did not move from his chair, nor refastened his trousers. he sat, lazy and satisfied, flaunting his exposed damp genitals as Nicolo strode out the door. He ignored the dirty faces of the crew, climbed down the ramp of the ship and walked evenly, his back straight, past the dock's planks, into the stalls already shuttered. Too late, he missed market. He would not be able to get Yusuf's paper and ink. He would not be able to get food.

Nicolo stalked down the path, stopping when he was between two stalls. He could not remember whose stall it was or what it offered, they all looked the same because they were all closed, gone for the night, shuttered while Nicolo knelt in front of a gem merchant and do nothing more than--

With a sharp thwack, Nicolo's shoulder crashed into a wall as he hunched over and retched.

It felt endless. The sourness spilled out of his mouth, forced out by his cramping stomach, refusing the filth Nicolo accepted extra coin to swallow. The taste was bad as he spat, but it was worst when he swallowed.

Nicolo hung his head, shaking as his body expelled what he refused to name. Like the object, it was nothing but a means, a tick to a tally in hopes of ever repaying such a debt, such a cost, but he could not even get paper and soon the oil will be dry and leave Yusuf in darkness, he should have sought Gems out sooner, not cower in hopes he was forgotten. He should have...

"Oh Nicolo..."

Nicolo started when he heard Yusuf murmured seemingly out of thin air, like a voice from the heavens finally took pity on his flawed soul.

"Easy, my friend. It is just me." Yusuf settled a warm palm on Nicolo's back, content to let Nicolo continue try to exorcise the filth within him. Only poor Yusuf did not realize it was too late. Nicolo felt the slick and burning stain sinking into his bones to take residence. He could disembowel himself, perhaps on Yusuf's sharp scimitar and it wouldn't rid everything.

"What..." Nicolo panted when it finally felt like there was nothing more to banish from his insides. "What are you..." It hurt to talk.

"The moon is about to yield to the sun," Yusuf chided. "You have never worked this late before. I came looking, but I did not see you in the docks." Yusuf's frown was clear in Nicolo's ears if not sight. He blurred in the darkness and Nicolo realized his eyes had teared as he vomited.

A cool hand slipped over Nicolo's nape. Nicolo flinched when Yusuf's fingers felt the blood there.

"What happened?" Yusuf's voice sharpened.

"Docks," Nicolo managed. He waved towards his head. "It is healed." He pressed the bag of coins to Yusuf's chest.

"I was too late for the markets," Nicolo said regretfully. "I did not get paper."

"It does not matter," Yusuf dismissed as he held up the bag of coins. He wore a strange look as he considered the coins. Was it not enough? He should have agreed to see Gems in the morning and risk people seeing him.

"I did not get the oil," Nicolo remembered as he straightened from his hunch.

"It does not matter."

"But the lamp--"

"Nicolo, it does not matter," Yusuf snapped. He sagged when he looked at Nicolo. He held up the bag of coins.

"You have never been paid this much coin before." Yusuf studied Nicolo.

Nicolo tensed. Did he not wipe his face clean on the ship? Did Yusuf see him leave the ship?

"It is...it is why I was late," Nicolo stammered. It was not a lie. Not quite.

Yusuf's brown eyes gleamed despite the dark, bottomless and complicated, fixed on Nicolo like there was something interesting to see.

Nicolo's eyes drifted away.

"And why were you sick?" Yusuf prodded gently. He patted Nicolo on the back, a light tap yet the warmth of Yusuf's hand swept over Nicolo with a soft heat that felt wonderful and undeserved.

"Something..." Nicolo fidgeted away, mourning when Yusuf's hand slipped off his back.

"Something I ate," Nicolo mumbled. "My stomach did not like." It was also not quite a lie.

"Hm," Yusuf commented. "You do have a weak stomach, my friend."

Nicolo smiled weakly.

"You barely tolerate the stew Yazim gave us last week," Yusuf went on. He dropped a companionable arm across Nicolo's shoulders.

"I ate all of it," Nicolo protested weakly.

"Ah, because you were much too kind to refuse but then you were sick for days after. You barely tolerate anything more solid than bread soaked in broth. You could not even eat the cheese."

Nicolo blinked. He did not think Yusuf noticed. He savored the weight of Yusuf's arm on him. It felt like it tied him to the ground, stopping him from drying up into nothing like he often felt after nights like these.

"It was the spice," Nicolo mumbled. Why did they live so far away? "Cardamom. I did not like the smell." He swallowed. "It makes me feel sick, but please do not tell Yazim. She was kind to share her food. She did not have to do that. All I did was fix her cart."

Yusuf tugged Nicolo closer. Nicolo was startled by how much he wanted to sag into Yusuf and weep for no reason at all. He was tired, that's all. He should have sought Gems out sooner, then he would not have missed the markets.

"Sought out who?" Yusuf asked as he steered them to the right pathway.

Nicolo jerked. He nearly fell out of Yusuf's grasp.

Yusuf tugged Nicolo tighter to him, close enough, his firm shoulder bumped the side of Nicolo's throat.

"Nicolo? Sought who out?"

Nicolo closed his eyes. How was he this stupid? Babbling away like a fool! He swallowed, fighting back a gag as a lingering taste rose up his throat.

No. Do not think about it.

Yusuf gave Nicolo a gentle shake to wake him. "We are almost home."

"Home?" Nicolo mumbled wistfully. This was a nice dream.

Yusuf chuckled, fond and warm against his temples. "Do not dream yet, my friend. We are almost there. Have a nice wash. I left you some bread and tea. Sleep and dream after that."

"I did not get the oil."

"It is fine."

Nicolo's feet was growing heavier.

"I was too late for market."

"We will go tomorrow."

"I wanted to get you the spiced meat you like."

"Sh, it is all right."

"But it is not," Nicolo sniffled. "And it never will be."

"What do you mean?" Yusuf seemed to be closer yet not close enough. Was Nicolo walking? It felt like his feet did not touch the ground now.

"Nicolo, what puts the furrow on your brow so often?" Yusuf murmured, his sad tone too soft to be heard by anyone but the one he held close.

Nicolo dropped his head on Yusuf's shoulder, Just for a moment and then he will return to the docks tomorrow.

"No, you will not," Yusuf said suddenly.

Nicolo tried to reply, but suddenly it felt like he was floating. He blinked confused at the sight of Yusuf's soft beard just off his nose.

"You should not be this light," Yusuf rumbled. He sounded unhappy. Nicolo should have gotten the paper and oil for the lamp after all.

Nicolo dropped his head against Yusuf's shoulder suddenly closer than he thought. He bobbed up and down, the little dwellings passing faster than before. He still could not feel his feet touch the ground. He was swaying, but his muddled mind could not fathom why.

"Yusuf?" Nicolo mumbled as his eyes refused to stay cracked open.

"Hm?"

"Are we on a boat?"

Yusuf chuckled and the sensation seemed to sink into Nicolo's belly hot as warm food and as comforting.

"This is better," Nicolo murmured.

"At least this way is faster," Yusuf chuckled again.

Nicolo didn't answer, sinking into the gentle sway that surrounded him.
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