I realized I did not designate part 8 was Nicolo. Sorry about that.
Two parts as I have to Zoom my academic advisor and I have yet another quiz to take. Eek.
————————————————— Part 9A —————————————————
(Yusuf)
12th century
Nicolo, his dear Nicolo, was too thin. As Yusuf held Nicolo in the bed, his eyes filled when he realized he could feel Nicolo’s rib cage against his arm through his tunic.
The bread and figs were a pitiful dinner, but it was all Nicolo dared to eat. Yusuf wanted to offer more. Yazim brought over stew, happy with Yusuf’s barter of service to help her write a letter and Nicolo fixing the buckets for the well their cluster of dwellings share. Nicolo was surprised and flustered when he learned it was in exchange for a blanket for Nicolo’s bed.
Yazim’s stew was rich with pigeon meat, steeped in cardamom and lemony squash. It was a hearty stew that sat comfortably in Yusuf’s belly. Nicolo thanked Yazim, sincere and grateful that left Yazim looking longing at his back. But Yusuf caught how Nicolo’s throat worked, his lips bloodless pressed together.
So Yusuf ate the stew while Nicolo washed (again in the cold night) before Nicolo returned and catch any scent. He tucked Nicolo against him in hopes the warmth from the food would seep into Nicolo.
Nicolo huffed, tolerating sitting on his bed with Yusuf pressed close. Yusuf tore small chunks of bread for Nicolo while Nicolo haltingly read the scrolls Yusuf drew up for Aziz. Nicolo argued with Yusuf how one scroll did not need more birds but perhaps one of the menacing scaly creatures with the long flat snout and short stumpy legs they spotted when they first came.
Yusuf drew Yazim’s temperamental black and white cat instead. He told Nicolo it was him. Nicolo tossed the last fig at Yusuf so Yusuf needed to wash his hair.
But figs and bread was a poor dinner even if the night itself felt full and bright. Nicolo’s smile was not convincing, but Yusuf appreciated how much of an effort it took. So he said nothing about it, but made sure the tale he told Nicolo was embarrassing, full of loud gestures and exasperation. He was rewarded with a more genuine chuckle from Nicolo. He could have his fill from Nicolo's laughs; he would never starve.
Yusuf brushed the tip of his nose under Nicolo’s ear. He snuffled into the skin, softer than the finest silks of the East.
“Sh,” Yusuf murmured when Nicolo stirred. Yusuf hummed as Nicolo muttered in lingua. He hummed as Nicolo’s arms wrapped tighter around himself, not because he was cold. Yusuf suspected it was because no one held Nicolo as such. So he wrapped his arms around Nicolo’s and layered the embrace.
Yusuf hummed under his breath, waiting for Nicolo to settle again. Nicolo was a light sleeper, quick to wake, but of late, his slumber was a restless one. The furtive hours left Nicolo already tired as he head out to the docks.
Nicolo squirmed, his muttering distressed. Yusuf rubbed Nicolo's forearm, hummed under Nicolo's ear. As Nicolo sighed and slept, Yusuf went through what coin they have left in his mind, what they can spare.
The unexpected fortunes from Aziz meant regular meals for both of them for the week. However, he would need to get more tea and figs soon. The tea seemed to be helping. Nicolo’s appetite was slowly returning.
Perhaps after Aziz, when Yusuf’s purse is full once again, he would buy some flatbread and sugared dates as well. He would take Nicolo to the Nile and point out those strange long-legged birds he learned from the libraries. And there, perhaps he would kiss Nicolo, taste the sugared dates in Nicolo’s mouth and lick the salt of Nicolo’s skin.
...Oh. He should not have thought of that.
Yusuf’s thoughts and the heat of Nicolo’s body against him stirred something hot and thick. His cock filled, faster than he could figure out how to alleviate it. He rolled his hips back, not wishing to shock or intimidate Nicolo with the heft of Yusuf’s desire. But Nicolo stirred in his arms again, his lower back brushing against Yusuf’s groin. Yusuf could not stop the choked groan from escaping.
Nicolo stilled.
Yusuf rested his head between Nicolo’s shoulders.
“Sorry,” Yusuf offered breathlessly. “Let me...go back to sleep. I will be back.”
Nicolo nodded, but said nothing. He did not look at Yusuf even when Yusuf brushed the hair away from Nicolo’s ear as he climbed over, careful not to brush against Nicolo.
Yusuf took the washing rag with him. He thought he felt Nicolo’s eyes on him as he crept out of their little home.
There was a sheltered spot between the fig tree and a flowering bush. Yusuf drew a little water in a pail and hunched by the bush. He felt awkward, crouched between houses and away from prying eyes. He bit his lower lip as he pulled his cock out, his trousers hanging off the hitch of his hips.
Yusuf hurried, rough dry hands pulling and rolling to give him a quick release that would most likely be unsatisfying, but he felt exposed out here. He was not a youth anymore and blind to everything except for the stroke of his hand.
However, Yusuf remained shaky with the weight and heat between his legs. He licked his palm, tried again but all it did was make him ache more.
He thought of Nicolo’s eyes, his mouth, the way his eyes could laugh even if his mouth did not. He thought of how pink his mouth is, how it pursed when he was displeased, how it curved when he was happy. And his voice: a low blur of deep notes. Oh how it rolled out no matter what language they spoke. The way Nicolo’s mouth shaped when he murmured Yusuf’s name.
He bit his lower lip as he palmed his cock, still weeping, still full and tried to pump without too much noise.
"Nicolo," Yusuf could not help but murmured.
It felt like just the name was enough. He came warm and plenty around his tight fist. He was dizzy with the release, Nicolo's name left his mouth tingling and pleasant. Just his name...he marveled how strange their lives have turned and yet how miraculous as well.
Yusuf sagged, leaning on the bush. It shivered under his weight and shed a few pointy yellow petals by his feet. He grimaced as he cleaned himself with the rag and water. He picked up the fallen blossoms, idly rubbing them with his fingers. He blinked as a scent rose.
It smelled minty, like marjoram. Yusuf briefly wondered if Nicolo could tolerate this scent. He shook his head when he realized he was contemplating bringing Nicolo flowers.
"He would run his sword through you," Yusuf muttered, chuckling to himself.
Yusuf's good mood faded. Brow knitting, he glance back to the house.
"Where is your sword?" Yusuf murmured. He brushed his hands clean of the flowers. They left his hands smelling nice, better than before. He mulled about the belt that hung loose around Nicolo's hips, untethered from the sword that normally hung there. Why did Nicolo--
Yusuf jumped when he spotted eerie blue feline eyes staring unblinking at the foot of the fig tree. He gaped at the creature, his heart pounding in his throat.
"Where did you come from, demonic beast?" Yusuf gasped. His thoughts scattered.
Yazim's cat balefully stared up at Yusuf.
Yusuf scowled back.
"Do not judge," Yusuf warned Yazim's cat as he gestured towards the rag. "I am out here because he...He...I should not...he and I...slow, yes? He is not a mouse to pounce on."
With a tiny huff, it went around the tree, shot up its tail at Yusuf and nimbly went back into the widow's window across their home.
Yusuf muttered under his breath. He glanced down at his groin. It had stirred when he said 'pounce.' He pressed his heel on the base, grimacing at the ache but at least he was better suited for bed.
With Nicolo.
"Don't," Yusuf seethed to himself as his body reacted. One would think he has not have sex in centuries not decades. He had satisfied his urges when there was coin to spare for inns and separate rooms. He had assumed Nicolo did the same. He did not realize...
Yusuf glanced down at himself again, relieved his urges yielded to sense.
No, now is not the time. Now is the time to coax Nicolo to eat more, smile more and banish the dark thoughts and guilt that has found Nicolo again.
After that, perhaps along the Nile, below the glittering stars in the desert, the shores and lush greens of the East...
Nodding to himself, Yusuf straightened his sleep clothes, blew warm breath into his cupped hands and returned to Nicolo.
Nicolo looked like he was asleep, still curled on his side with his arms around his middle. Yusuf studied the bed, wondering how he could crawl back behind Nicolo without waking him.
But when Yusuf drew near, Nicolo opened drowsy eyes up at him.
"I did not mean to wake you," Yusuf murmured. He wanted to touch Nicolo's face, but his hands were still chilled from outside.
Nicolo nodded. He ran his tongue over his lower lip. He swallowed and his breath quickened.
"I..." Nicolo rasped. His eyes were level to Yusuf's knees and it was to them he rasped, "I could do it."
Yusuf blinked. "Do what?"
Nicolo reached across and traced the length of Yusuf's thigh with a finger.
"I..." Nicolo's tongue darted in and out as he fought for words. He sounded awake. It did not sound like he slept at all.
"If it happens again." Nicolo's finger drew a line around Yusuf's left knee. "I could do that for you. You need not leave. It is cold out."
Yusuf hunched down, sitting on his heels so he could look at Nicolo. Eyes like faraway seas gazed back.
"It is fine," Yusuf murmured. "We have time to learn about each other and what is good." He dropped his hand on the side of Nicolo's head. "I do not mind." He paused.
"But perhaps on the other side of the house. Yazim's cat seems to want to claw me."
Nicolo's mouth curled up.
"It is because you stepped on her tail."
Yusuf scoffed. "It should not have been under my foot."
Nicolo huffed. His mouth flattened. Even on his side, Nicolo looked awake and shadowed.
"Next time, I could do it."
Ah, Nicolo. Yusuf was not sure if Nicolo understood what he offered, but Nicolo's sincerity warmed him.
"All right," Yusuf agreed. He rubbed his thumb down Nicolo's nose. He thought of the statues he saw on Roman shores when he traveled with his father. How proud they stood. How beautiful they looked in their painted stone flesh.
"Next time," Nicolo insisted as Yusuf climbed over him.
"Of course," Yusuf murmured. He kissed Nicolo's ear. He will never tire of it. "Next time. Go to sleep. I have many more scrolls to draw for Aziz and you have many more tales you need to recite to me in your atrocious Arabic." He chuckled when Nicolo pulled back his elbow.
"All right, all right. Your Arabic was what charmed me. The soothing sounds of a strangled cat. Such paradise to my ears--Oof."
Yusuf hugged Nicolo to his chest, chuckling as he kissed Nicolo's shoulder, his neck and his ear while avoiding another elbow.
"All right, stop, stop," Yusuf laughed, "I surrender. Desist before your bony elbow cuts me down. What a pitiful death that would be."
"I could do it for you," Nicolo repeated, his voice stronger.
Yusuf nodded against Nicolo's nape. His hair held a faint scent.
"Hm," Yusuf murmured. "Your hair...smells like..." He frowned. "I can not recall. I will remember later I am sure."
Nicolo breathed sharply against Yusuf.
"Please know," Nicolo whispered. He sounded sad. Yusuf tugged Nicolo closer. "I do this all willing."
"Sh, all right," Yusuf soothed. "Next time."
"Later," Nicolo said, his voice still sad.
Yusuf did not reply as he sank into dreams of strange birds, Nicolo's rare laugh and little cats under fig trees.
—————————————————
Eep, yes, your eyes don't deceive you. I looked over my plot outline for this fill and realized I really need 2 more parts of soft recovery for both our guys. I kind of see Yusuf as a victim in all this, too.
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timeasmymeasure
Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 9A/14
Date: 2020-10-06 04:26 pm (UTC)Two parts as I have to Zoom my academic advisor and I have yet another quiz to take. Eek.
—————————————————
Part 9A
—————————————————
(Yusuf)
12th century
Nicolo, his dear Nicolo, was too thin. As Yusuf held Nicolo in the bed, his eyes filled when he realized he could feel Nicolo’s rib cage against his arm through his tunic.
The bread and figs were a pitiful dinner, but it was all Nicolo dared to eat. Yusuf wanted to offer more. Yazim brought over stew, happy with Yusuf’s barter of service to help her write a letter and Nicolo fixing the buckets for the well their cluster of dwellings share. Nicolo was surprised and flustered when he learned it was in exchange for a blanket for Nicolo’s bed.
Yazim’s stew was rich with pigeon meat, steeped in cardamom and lemony squash. It was a hearty stew that sat comfortably in Yusuf’s belly. Nicolo thanked Yazim, sincere and grateful that left Yazim looking longing at his back. But Yusuf caught how Nicolo’s throat worked, his lips bloodless pressed together.
So Yusuf ate the stew while Nicolo washed (again in the cold night) before Nicolo returned and catch any scent. He tucked Nicolo against him in hopes the warmth from the food would seep into Nicolo.
Nicolo huffed, tolerating sitting on his bed with Yusuf pressed close. Yusuf tore small chunks of bread for Nicolo while Nicolo haltingly read the scrolls Yusuf drew up for Aziz. Nicolo argued with Yusuf how one scroll did not need more birds but perhaps one of the menacing scaly creatures with the long flat snout and short stumpy legs they spotted when they first came.
Yusuf drew Yazim’s temperamental black and white cat instead. He told Nicolo it was him. Nicolo tossed the last fig at Yusuf so Yusuf needed to wash his hair.
But figs and bread was a poor dinner even if the night itself felt full and bright. Nicolo’s smile was not convincing, but Yusuf appreciated how much of an effort it took. So he said nothing about it, but made sure the tale he told Nicolo was embarrassing, full of loud gestures and exasperation. He was rewarded with a more genuine chuckle from Nicolo. He could have his fill from Nicolo's laughs; he would never starve.
Yusuf brushed the tip of his nose under Nicolo’s ear. He snuffled into the skin, softer than the finest silks of the East.
“Sh,” Yusuf murmured when Nicolo stirred. Yusuf hummed as Nicolo muttered in lingua. He hummed as Nicolo’s arms wrapped tighter around himself, not because he was cold. Yusuf suspected it was because no one held Nicolo as such. So he wrapped his arms around Nicolo’s and layered the embrace.
Yusuf hummed under his breath, waiting for Nicolo to settle again. Nicolo was a light sleeper, quick to wake, but of late, his slumber was a restless one. The furtive hours left Nicolo already tired as he head out to the docks.
Nicolo squirmed, his muttering distressed. Yusuf rubbed Nicolo's forearm, hummed under Nicolo's ear. As Nicolo sighed and slept, Yusuf went through what coin they have left in his mind, what they can spare.
The unexpected fortunes from Aziz meant regular meals for both of them for the week. However, he would need to get more tea and figs soon. The tea seemed to be helping. Nicolo’s appetite was slowly returning.
Perhaps after Aziz, when Yusuf’s purse is full once again, he would buy some flatbread and sugared dates as well. He would take Nicolo to the Nile and point out those strange long-legged birds he learned from the libraries. And there, perhaps he would kiss Nicolo, taste the sugared dates in Nicolo’s mouth and lick the salt of Nicolo’s skin.
...Oh. He should not have thought of that.
Yusuf’s thoughts and the heat of Nicolo’s body against him stirred something hot and thick. His cock filled, faster than he could figure out how to alleviate it. He rolled his hips back, not wishing to shock or intimidate Nicolo with the heft of Yusuf’s desire. But Nicolo stirred in his arms again, his lower back brushing against Yusuf’s groin. Yusuf could not stop the choked groan from escaping.
Nicolo stilled.
Yusuf rested his head between Nicolo’s shoulders.
“Sorry,” Yusuf offered breathlessly. “Let me...go back to sleep. I will be back.”
Nicolo nodded, but said nothing. He did not look at Yusuf even when Yusuf brushed the hair away from Nicolo’s ear as he climbed over, careful not to brush against Nicolo.
Yusuf took the washing rag with him. He thought he felt Nicolo’s eyes on him as he crept out of their little home.
There was a sheltered spot between the fig tree and a flowering bush. Yusuf drew a little water in a pail and hunched by the bush. He felt awkward, crouched between houses and away from prying eyes. He bit his lower lip as he pulled his cock out, his trousers hanging off the hitch of his hips.
Yusuf hurried, rough dry hands pulling and rolling to give him a quick release that would most likely be unsatisfying, but he felt exposed out here. He was not a youth anymore and blind to everything except for the stroke of his hand.
However, Yusuf remained shaky with the weight and heat between his legs. He licked his palm, tried again but all it did was make him ache more.
He thought of Nicolo’s eyes, his mouth, the way his eyes could laugh even if his mouth did not. He thought of how pink his mouth is, how it pursed when he was displeased, how it curved when he was happy. And his voice: a low blur of deep notes. Oh how it rolled out no matter what language they spoke. The way Nicolo’s mouth shaped when he murmured Yusuf’s name.
He bit his lower lip as he palmed his cock, still weeping, still full and tried to pump without too much noise.
"Nicolo," Yusuf could not help but murmured.
It felt like just the name was enough. He came warm and plenty around his tight fist. He was dizzy with the release, Nicolo's name left his mouth tingling and pleasant. Just his name...he marveled how strange their lives have turned and yet how miraculous as well.
Yusuf sagged, leaning on the bush. It shivered under his weight and shed a few pointy yellow petals by his feet. He grimaced as he cleaned himself with the rag and water. He picked up the fallen blossoms, idly rubbing them with his fingers. He blinked as a scent rose.
It smelled minty, like marjoram. Yusuf briefly wondered if Nicolo could tolerate this scent. He shook his head when he realized he was contemplating bringing Nicolo flowers.
"He would run his sword through you," Yusuf muttered, chuckling to himself.
Yusuf's good mood faded. Brow knitting, he glance back to the house.
"Where is your sword?" Yusuf murmured. He brushed his hands clean of the flowers. They left his hands smelling nice, better than before. He mulled about the belt that hung loose around Nicolo's hips, untethered from the sword that normally hung there. Why did Nicolo--
Yusuf jumped when he spotted eerie blue feline eyes staring unblinking at the foot of the fig tree. He gaped at the creature, his heart pounding in his throat.
"Where did you come from, demonic beast?" Yusuf gasped. His thoughts scattered.
Yazim's cat balefully stared up at Yusuf.
Yusuf scowled back.
"Do not judge," Yusuf warned Yazim's cat as he gestured towards the rag. "I am out here because he...He...I should not...he and I...slow, yes? He is not a mouse to pounce on."
With a tiny huff, it went around the tree, shot up its tail at Yusuf and nimbly went back into the widow's window across their home.
Yusuf muttered under his breath. He glanced down at his groin. It had stirred when he said 'pounce.' He pressed his heel on the base, grimacing at the ache but at least he was better suited for bed.
With Nicolo.
"Don't," Yusuf seethed to himself as his body reacted. One would think he has not have sex in centuries not decades. He had satisfied his urges when there was coin to spare for inns and separate rooms. He had assumed Nicolo did the same. He did not realize...
Yusuf glanced down at himself again, relieved his urges yielded to sense.
No, now is not the time. Now is the time to coax Nicolo to eat more, smile more and banish the dark thoughts and guilt that has found Nicolo again.
After that, perhaps along the Nile, below the glittering stars in the desert, the shores and lush greens of the East...
Nodding to himself, Yusuf straightened his sleep clothes, blew warm breath into his cupped hands and returned to Nicolo.
Nicolo looked like he was asleep, still curled on his side with his arms around his middle. Yusuf studied the bed, wondering how he could crawl back behind Nicolo without waking him.
But when Yusuf drew near, Nicolo opened drowsy eyes up at him.
"I did not mean to wake you," Yusuf murmured. He wanted to touch Nicolo's face, but his hands were still chilled from outside.
Nicolo nodded. He ran his tongue over his lower lip. He swallowed and his breath quickened.
"I..." Nicolo rasped. His eyes were level to Yusuf's knees and it was to them he rasped, "I could do it."
Yusuf blinked. "Do what?"
Nicolo reached across and traced the length of Yusuf's thigh with a finger.
"I..." Nicolo's tongue darted in and out as he fought for words. He sounded awake. It did not sound like he slept at all.
"If it happens again." Nicolo's finger drew a line around Yusuf's left knee. "I could do that for you. You need not leave. It is cold out."
Yusuf hunched down, sitting on his heels so he could look at Nicolo. Eyes like faraway seas gazed back.
"It is fine," Yusuf murmured. "We have time to learn about each other and what is good." He dropped his hand on the side of Nicolo's head. "I do not mind." He paused.
"But perhaps on the other side of the house. Yazim's cat seems to want to claw me."
Nicolo's mouth curled up.
"It is because you stepped on her tail."
Yusuf scoffed. "It should not have been under my foot."
Nicolo huffed. His mouth flattened. Even on his side, Nicolo looked awake and shadowed.
"Next time, I could do it."
Ah, Nicolo. Yusuf was not sure if Nicolo understood what he offered, but Nicolo's sincerity warmed him.
"All right," Yusuf agreed. He rubbed his thumb down Nicolo's nose. He thought of the statues he saw on Roman shores when he traveled with his father. How proud they stood. How beautiful they looked in their painted stone flesh.
"Next time," Nicolo insisted as Yusuf climbed over him.
"Of course," Yusuf murmured. He kissed Nicolo's ear. He will never tire of it. "Next time. Go to sleep. I have many more scrolls to draw for Aziz and you have many more tales you need to recite to me in your atrocious Arabic." He chuckled when Nicolo pulled back his elbow.
"All right, all right. Your Arabic was what charmed me. The soothing sounds of a strangled cat. Such paradise to my ears--Oof."
Yusuf hugged Nicolo to his chest, chuckling as he kissed Nicolo's shoulder, his neck and his ear while avoiding another elbow.
"All right, stop, stop," Yusuf laughed, "I surrender. Desist before your bony elbow cuts me down. What a pitiful death that would be."
"I could do it for you," Nicolo repeated, his voice stronger.
Yusuf nodded against Nicolo's nape. His hair held a faint scent.
"Hm," Yusuf murmured. "Your hair...smells like..." He frowned. "I can not recall. I will remember later I am sure."
Nicolo breathed sharply against Yusuf.
"Please know," Nicolo whispered. He sounded sad. Yusuf tugged Nicolo closer. "I do this all willing."
"Sh, all right," Yusuf soothed. "Next time."
"Later," Nicolo said, his voice still sad.
Yusuf did not reply as he sank into dreams of strange birds, Nicolo's rare laugh and little cats under fig trees.
—————————————————
Eep, yes, your eyes don't deceive you. I looked over my plot outline for this fill and realized I really need 2 more parts of soft recovery for both our guys. I kind of see Yusuf as a victim in all this, too.