Nicolo's cup stilled against his lips. His mind went blank. His sword? He remembered taking it, Yusuf's note, its scabbard scraped the deck when he took it off...
"I..." Nicolo sipped the tea Yusuf made after morning prayers. It tasted horrible, but it lingered in his mouth so it did not taste like something else. So when Yusuf made the special tea, Nicolo drank it.
"I did not see it here," Yusuf prodded when Nicolo took too long to speak. "I looked because I was going to clean it and my blade."
"I left it with a merchant." Nicolo kept his eyes fixed into the cup. "To...to see if he can find a good price." His stomach twisted.
Yusuf set down his pen. He had moved the table back to the bed again. It meant Nicolo stayed in Yusuf's bed while Yusuf sat on the bed, blocking the way. Nicolo did not mind. He spent the day sleepily watching Yusuf draw beautiful things on plain paper.
"Your sword?" Yusuf sounded so pained, Nicolo looked up. "Nicolo, you should not need to sell your sword. I would rather starve than leave you defenseless."
He could stand with a thousand men at his back and he would feel still defenseless.
Nicolo smiled faintly but it did not seem to assuage Yusuf.
"I am not defenseless," Nicolo murmured. He pulled out the dagger from under Yusuf's bed cushion. "See? I have the dagger you gave me."
"Yes, well, ah, that is good." Yusuf's cheeks were pink again. Nicolo truly hoped Yusuf did not become ill because of him.
"It is good you have it..." Yusuf grinned sloppily at Nicolo, acting drunk even though he does not drink.
Yusuf sobered. "But you should not have to give up your sword." He started to rise to his feet.
"Which ship was it? I will get it bac--"
"No!" Nicolo cringed when he heard himself shout. Yusuf stared, shocked.
"No," Nicolo repeated. "There is no need. He will not sell it until I am there. I will get it back." His throat worked. "When you go to Aziz. I will retrieve my sword."
Yusuf frowned. "But that is three days away."
"I will be your first."
Yusuf studied Nicolo. His hand slipped over Nicolo's knee under the blanket.
"Are you sure?" Yusuf said quietly. "I am uncomfortable with the thought of you without your sword for so long. You do not look happy as well."
Nicolo reminded Yusuf by waving the dagger's sheath.
Yusuf chuckled. "Yes. Yes." He tapped the dagger with the blunt end of his pen. "Ah, ah, ah! Lower your weapon. In my bed, I prefer poking and be poked with something else."
Nicolo blinked down at the dagger, confused.
"You mean with a staff?" Nicolo said slowly. Why would Yusuf want a staff on his bed? Nicolo asked Yusuf this. Yusuf choked.
"No. What I meant, I mean, for...poking, that is to say, I..."
"Did I misunderstood?" Nicolo frowned to himself. He was sure the word was 'poke.'
Yusuf stared down on the table for some reason. He took a deep breath and turned away from the table. When he faced Nicolo, his expression was earnest. It made Nicolo sit higher on the bed.
"Nicolo," Yusuf asked, seriously. He squeezed Nicolo's knee under the blanket. "May I ask you a question?"
Nicolo's eyes drifted to Yusuf's throat. The beard stirred as Yusuf gulped. He studied the flush that burned brighter on Yusuf's ears.
Oh.
"No." Nicolo peered up at Yusuf's face. "I have not."
Yusuf's lips parted and then pressed together. His throat worked.
"No one? Woman or..." Yusuf cleared his throat. "...man?"
"No. You?" Nicolo asked evenly.
Yusuf smiled but it faded. He shrugged.
"Women? Yes. Men?"
Yusuf shrugged again.
"When I was a young man. There were some." Yusuf tried to smile again, but he seemed embarrassed.
"I enjoyed, but I have found no one--man or woman--I felt strong enough for eternity. Until now." Yusuf stared at Nicolo, his eyes slowly drifting from his head and lower.
Nicolo felt heated, in places he was not sure what to do about. He dropped his gaze.
"Does this bother you?" Yusuf asked, uncertain. It ached to hear.
"If it did," Nicolo returned hesitantly, "I would 'poke' you with this dagger."
Yusuf burst into chuckles that shook the bed under Nicolo.
"Ah Nicolo," Yusuf said. Nicolo did not look up but he can hear the smile in Yusuf's voice. "How lucky I am no one sees past your scowl and discover your wit. I get to keep this knowledge as my treasure."
"I am glad I can be of some value," Nicolo told him. He leaned back at the wall.
"You...of some..." Yusuf covered his face with a hand. He lowered his hand and studied Nicolo.
Nicolo stared back. "What?"
Yusuf shifted, sitting deeper into the bed. He swept a hand over Nicolo's knee. Nicolo felt the heat of Yusuf's palm even through the blanket. He squirmed.
"Dear Nicolo." Yusuf murmured. "If only I knew the words to tell you."
"Tell me what?" Nicolo watched Yusuf as he crawled up to him on the bed.
"Our words are pitiful to describe..." Yusuf shook his head. He knead Nicolo's thigh under the blanket. His eyes were dark, endless and open. Nicolo could see himself reflected in Yusuf's eyes.
"Good?"
Nicolo mutely nodded. He closed his eyes when Yusuf swung a leg over his legs. He could feel Yusuf's weight, his body solid and familiar.
Yusuf settled carefully over Nicolo. He pulled Nicolo, rolled him until they were lying down on the bed, lying sideways, facing each other.
Nicolo wondered if Yusuf could hear his heart hammering, if he could see the stains in the corners of Nicolo's mouth.
Yusuf palmed the side of Nicolo's face, stilling him before he could hide his face.
"And this? This good?"
Nicolo could only nod again. He made a sound, twitching when Yusuf settled closer. Closer until their chests touch each time they breathed. A hot length brushed briefly against Nicolo's thigh.
“I will gladly teach you what else you can offer besides your mouth.”
Nicolo's breathing sped up. Dirar's taunts scalded his ears. What if Yusuf wanted...that? He swallowed. And swallowed. The bitterness sharpened on his tongue, but his mouth went drier and drier.
Yusuf carded a hand through Nicolo's hair. He studied Nicolo.
Do not look at me. Nicolo did not know what he was supposed to look like.
Nicolo could not bear Yusuf's searching gaze. He dropped his head onto Yusuf's shoulder.
Yusuf hummed. His hands wandered, following the line of Nicolo's spine. His leg slipped between Nicolo's.
Nicolo's stomach sank in as he sucked in a breath. Sour rose up his throat like vomit. He mumbled, sounds because he could not think of words. He felt ill. He felt overly hot. He wanted. He feared. He wanted Yusuf to hold him. He wanted Yusuf to stay away from him for his own good.
Yusuf kissed Nicolo's forehead.
"Nicolo," Yusuf exhaled. "Hobi. What do you want? Tell me. Anything."
Nicolo felt Yusuf's hand wander, measuring and deciding. He waited for Yusuf to tell him to kneel.
Nicolo burrowed closer until their noses bumped.
"Yusuf," Nicolo exhaled. "I want to be better for you."
Yusuf's hand suddenly stopped. He left it on Nicolo's lower back.
"Ah." Yusuf sighed. "I want you to be better for yourself."
Yusuf hugged Nicolo to him, tucking Nicolo's head under his chin. His beard tickled Nicolo's temples.
"I will have you."
Or he would have Yusuf. No, no, he can not allow that. He forced himself to breathe slower against Yusuf. He will be fine. He will heal. Hurts will heal.
"Let us stay here today," Yusuf said. He rubbed Nicolo's back. "Here. You. Me. No library. No docks. No market. I work on the art for Aziz and you tell me the tales to fill the spaces in your horrible Arabic."
Nicolo thumped his head on Yusuf's chin. Yusuf shook against him with silent laughter.
"I would do anything," Nicolo murmured. "To hear you laugh like this."
"Ah, like music, yes?"
"Like Yazim's cat farting but nicer smell."
Yusuf's laughter rose and he embraced Nicolo as if he was something precious. It helped Nicolo hold up a smile on his face. It helped him eat the meal of bread and stewed figs. And when Yusuf shared his bed with Nicolo again at night, Nicolo almost believed he can still have this after Yusuf finds out the truth. ---------------------- Whew! I almost went over the text limit again. Oops.
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timeasmymeasure
Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 8B/12
Date: 2020-10-05 10:59 pm (UTC)Part 8B
—————————————————
"I did not see your sword."
Nicolo's cup stilled against his lips. His mind went blank. His sword? He remembered taking it, Yusuf's note, its scabbard scraped the deck when he took it off...
"I..." Nicolo sipped the tea Yusuf made after morning prayers. It tasted horrible, but it lingered in his mouth so it did not taste like something else. So when Yusuf made the special tea, Nicolo drank it.
"I did not see it here," Yusuf prodded when Nicolo took too long to speak. "I looked because I was going to clean it and my blade."
"I left it with a merchant." Nicolo kept his eyes fixed into the cup. "To...to see if he can find a good price." His stomach twisted.
Yusuf set down his pen. He had moved the table back to the bed again. It meant Nicolo stayed in Yusuf's bed while Yusuf sat on the bed, blocking the way. Nicolo did not mind. He spent the day sleepily watching Yusuf draw beautiful things on plain paper.
"Your sword?" Yusuf sounded so pained, Nicolo looked up. "Nicolo, you should not need to sell your sword. I would rather starve than leave you defenseless."
He could stand with a thousand men at his back and he would feel still defenseless.
Nicolo smiled faintly but it did not seem to assuage Yusuf.
"I am not defenseless," Nicolo murmured. He pulled out the dagger from under Yusuf's bed cushion. "See? I have the dagger you gave me."
"Yes, well, ah, that is good." Yusuf's cheeks were pink again. Nicolo truly hoped Yusuf did not become ill because of him.
"It is good you have it..." Yusuf grinned sloppily at Nicolo, acting drunk even though he does not drink.
Yusuf sobered. "But you should not have to give up your sword." He started to rise to his feet.
"Which ship was it? I will get it bac--"
"No!" Nicolo cringed when he heard himself shout. Yusuf stared, shocked.
"No," Nicolo repeated. "There is no need. He will not sell it until I am there. I will get it back." His throat worked. "When you go to Aziz. I will retrieve my sword."
Yusuf frowned. "But that is three days away."
"I will be your first."
Yusuf studied Nicolo. His hand slipped over Nicolo's knee under the blanket.
"Are you sure?" Yusuf said quietly. "I am uncomfortable with the thought of you without your sword for so long. You do not look happy as well."
Nicolo reminded Yusuf by waving the dagger's sheath.
Yusuf chuckled. "Yes. Yes." He tapped the dagger with the blunt end of his pen. "Ah, ah, ah! Lower your weapon. In my bed, I prefer poking and be poked with something else."
Nicolo blinked down at the dagger, confused.
"You mean with a staff?" Nicolo said slowly. Why would Yusuf want a staff on his bed? Nicolo asked Yusuf this. Yusuf choked.
"No. What I meant, I mean, for...poking, that is to say, I..."
"Did I misunderstood?" Nicolo frowned to himself. He was sure the word was 'poke.'
Yusuf stared down on the table for some reason. He took a deep breath and turned away from the table. When he faced Nicolo, his expression was earnest. It made Nicolo sit higher on the bed.
"Nicolo," Yusuf asked, seriously. He squeezed Nicolo's knee under the blanket. "May I ask you a question?"
Nicolo's eyes drifted to Yusuf's throat. The beard stirred as Yusuf gulped. He studied the flush that burned brighter on Yusuf's ears.
Oh.
"No." Nicolo peered up at Yusuf's face. "I have not."
Yusuf's lips parted and then pressed together. His throat worked.
"No one? Woman or..." Yusuf cleared his throat. "...man?"
"No. You?" Nicolo asked evenly.
Yusuf smiled but it faded. He shrugged.
"Women? Yes. Men?"
Yusuf shrugged again.
"When I was a young man. There were some." Yusuf tried to smile again, but he seemed embarrassed.
"I enjoyed, but I have found no one--man or woman--I felt strong enough for eternity. Until now." Yusuf stared at Nicolo, his eyes slowly drifting from his head and lower.
Nicolo felt heated, in places he was not sure what to do about. He dropped his gaze.
"Does this bother you?" Yusuf asked, uncertain. It ached to hear.
"If it did," Nicolo returned hesitantly, "I would 'poke' you with this dagger."
Yusuf burst into chuckles that shook the bed under Nicolo.
"Ah Nicolo," Yusuf said. Nicolo did not look up but he can hear the smile in Yusuf's voice. "How lucky I am no one sees past your scowl and discover your wit. I get to keep this knowledge as my treasure."
"I am glad I can be of some value," Nicolo told him. He leaned back at the wall.
"You...of some..." Yusuf covered his face with a hand. He lowered his hand and studied Nicolo.
Nicolo stared back. "What?"
Yusuf shifted, sitting deeper into the bed. He swept a hand over Nicolo's knee. Nicolo felt the heat of Yusuf's palm even through the blanket. He squirmed.
"Dear Nicolo." Yusuf murmured. "If only I knew the words to tell you."
"Tell me what?" Nicolo watched Yusuf as he crawled up to him on the bed.
"Our words are pitiful to describe..." Yusuf shook his head. He knead Nicolo's thigh under the blanket. His eyes were dark, endless and open. Nicolo could see himself reflected in Yusuf's eyes.
"Good?"
Nicolo mutely nodded. He closed his eyes when Yusuf swung a leg over his legs. He could feel Yusuf's weight, his body solid and familiar.
Yusuf settled carefully over Nicolo. He pulled Nicolo, rolled him until they were lying down on the bed, lying sideways, facing each other.
Nicolo wondered if Yusuf could hear his heart hammering, if he could see the stains in the corners of Nicolo's mouth.
Yusuf palmed the side of Nicolo's face, stilling him before he could hide his face.
"And this? This good?"
Nicolo could only nod again. He made a sound, twitching when Yusuf settled closer. Closer until their chests touch each time they breathed. A hot length brushed briefly against Nicolo's thigh.
“I will gladly teach you what else you can offer besides your mouth.”
Nicolo's breathing sped up. Dirar's taunts scalded his ears. What if Yusuf wanted...that? He swallowed. And swallowed. The bitterness sharpened on his tongue, but his mouth went drier and drier.
Yusuf carded a hand through Nicolo's hair. He studied Nicolo.
Do not look at me. Nicolo did not know what he was supposed to look like.
Nicolo could not bear Yusuf's searching gaze. He dropped his head onto Yusuf's shoulder.
Yusuf hummed. His hands wandered, following the line of Nicolo's spine. His leg slipped between Nicolo's.
Nicolo's stomach sank in as he sucked in a breath. Sour rose up his throat like vomit. He mumbled, sounds because he could not think of words. He felt ill. He felt overly hot. He wanted. He feared. He wanted Yusuf to hold him. He wanted Yusuf to stay away from him for his own good.
Yusuf kissed Nicolo's forehead.
"Nicolo," Yusuf exhaled. "Hobi. What do you want? Tell me. Anything."
Nicolo felt Yusuf's hand wander, measuring and deciding. He waited for Yusuf to tell him to kneel.
Nicolo burrowed closer until their noses bumped.
"Yusuf," Nicolo exhaled. "I want to be better for you."
Yusuf's hand suddenly stopped. He left it on Nicolo's lower back.
"Ah." Yusuf sighed. "I want you to be better for yourself."
Yusuf hugged Nicolo to him, tucking Nicolo's head under his chin. His beard tickled Nicolo's temples.
"I will have you."
Or he would have Yusuf. No, no, he can not allow that. He forced himself to breathe slower against Yusuf. He will be fine. He will heal. Hurts will heal.
"Let us stay here today," Yusuf said. He rubbed Nicolo's back. "Here. You. Me. No library. No docks. No market. I work on the art for Aziz and you tell me the tales to fill the spaces in your horrible Arabic."
Nicolo thumped his head on Yusuf's chin. Yusuf shook against him with silent laughter.
"I would do anything," Nicolo murmured. "To hear you laugh like this."
"Ah, like music, yes?"
"Like Yazim's cat farting but nicer smell."
Yusuf's laughter rose and he embraced Nicolo as if he was something precious. It helped Nicolo hold up a smile on his face. It helped him eat the meal of bread and stewed figs. And when Yusuf shared his bed with Nicolo again at night, Nicolo almost believed he can still have this after Yusuf finds out the truth.
----------------------
Whew! I almost went over the text limit again. Oops.
See you tomorrow!