Fills Post
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Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 6A/12
Date: 2020-10-02 03:39 pm (UTC)———————————————-
Part 6A
———————————————-
(Nicolo)
Cairo, 12th century
He woke up to the sound of bows and laughter fading in his ears. It left him with longing.
Nicolo made a face as something pressed down over his mouth, scratching his upper lip bristly and--
"I also paid you to swallow."
Nicolo jolted, springing to his feet, or tried as something wound around his legs, like hands holding him down.
The third one was a fish merchant. Nicolo named him Smak, Arabic for fish. His short fingers were briny and slimy with fish oil and scales.
Smak did not like how Nicolo reared back to try to breathe. He ordered his man to hold down Nicolo's legs to keep him kneeling. He demanded Nicolo to stop, swallow and do not fight him again.
He swallowed. Then bit the object that refused to leave his sore mouth. Smak was not happy. He demanded a penalty.
At least, Smak paid him for the other one as well. And Nicolo knew not to bite anymore.
But no, wait, that was last week. How...
Nicolo glanced down at his feet. He stared blankly at the blanket wound around his ankles like a snake. Yusuf's blanket.
Yes, that is right. He was on Yusuf's bed. And fell asleep to Yusuf's voice and his tale about a boy and his falcon. It sounded like it would be a sad ending, but Yusuf promised it would not be. Nicolo could not recall if he heard it. His last memory was of Yusuf's arm warm against his nape, his body solid against his side, and his voice steady and deep in his ears, taking over the buzzing that has not gone away since Dirar.
Another sort of longing filled Nicolo's chest and left him feeling weak. He dropped down onto Yusuf's bed, the blanket now a crumpled pile on his lap.
Nicolo gripped the coarse weave with both hands as he cast bleary eyes about the room. The table was back in its place in the center, between the two pallets.
Nicolo's sleeping pallet was neat, his cushion in the center like before. Yusuf had insisted a cushion behind Nicolo's head would do miracles for sleep. For two years after they started traveling together, Yusuf complained.
Nicolo did not see the point: he slept on stone floors, dirt ground and wooden planks without anything under his head since he could remember. He slept fine; it only needed to be long enough to be ready for his duties when the sun rose.
Yusuf had stared at Nicolo with a strange astonished expression. Then he folded up his thickest cloak and gruffly told Nicolo to put his head on it that night.
Nicolo smiled weakly at the thin cushion Yusuf made from rags after they arrived in Cairo. He made two, folding them in halves and in quarters from clothing torn from too many arrows and too many swords. Nicolo had washed them as best he could the moment Yusuf deemed they were far enough away.
Yusuf slept and left beds a mess. Nicolo learned early on that if the beds were not made neatly, one did not eat.
It meant Yusuf did not sleep in Nicolo's bed. That is...good? Yusuf did not like to be cold, but then where...
Nicolo blinked at the pallet he was on and considered the smudges of ink on the covers.
Oh.
That strange longing washed over Nicolo again. And when he noticed the modest chunk of bread and tea on the table, the longing sharpened to an ache.
The bread was warm, burnt at the bottom. Yusuf must have set it on top of the covered pot as he boiled water for tea. The tea cooled but still slipped warm down Nicolo's throat. And the bread...tasted like bread. Nicolo nearly choked when he gulped down the bread and realized it tasted like it should.
Nicolo sipped the tea cautiously. It was a dark brew Yusuf said the merchant promised would soothe his stomach. But Nicolo did not put much faith on merchants. Not anymore.
It was unusual Yusuf was not here. His threadbare prayer rug was rolled up by their packs, so he did his morning prayers. Strangely enough, all the stray sheets of thick paper were gone. Did Yusuf need more already?
Nicolo's stomach clenched at the thought. He blinked, his sight blurring as he thought who might be in port. Smak has gone back to sea. Gems left as well.
Dirar. Dirar and Khalîl were here.
Nicolo curled his hands tighter around the chipped cup.
Perhaps Khalîl. He paid well and did not object if Nicolo needed to pause for breath. He liked to pull hair though and was fond of Nicolo's tongue on him and the sight of his blood.
But it was better than Dirar. Maybe, yes, he'll seek Khalil before Dirar seeks him.
Nicolo pulled in a shuddering breath, his head dropping and his eyes landed on a scrap of paper that must have been stuck on the bottom of his cup.
Have gone to docks.
Rest.
Yusuf.
The cup shattered as Nicolo surged to his feet. He changed quickly, tearing seams and laces in the process, but he was out, trembling hands fastening his longsword to his hip as he hurried to the docks.
-----------------------
More later!
Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 6A/12
Date: 2020-10-02 04:43 pm (UTC)Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 6A/12
Date: 2020-10-02 04:45 pm (UTC)Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 6A/12
Date: 2020-10-02 05:59 pm (UTC)Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 6A/12
Date: 2020-10-02 08:04 pm (UTC)Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 6A/12
Date: 2020-10-02 10:19 pm (UTC)