Fills Post
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Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 10B/14
Date: 2020-10-08 08:46 pm (UTC)———————————————-
Part 10B
———————————————-
(Nicolo)
Cairo, 12th century
He did not dream about the women today. He was both relieved and disappointed. They looked happy, even in battle.
Nicolo opened his eyes. He stared across to his bed again. He almost sat up to search for work in the docks before a sly hand reaches for him or an eye stares too long.
The stack of scrolls on the table, though, made him stop. The half filled pot of ink made him close his eyes and swallow, tasting sour and bitterness that refused to go away. Yes. Of course.
Another morning. Which means tomorrow...
Too soon, Nicolo thought as he stared at the table. Yesterday was the same as the day before. Yusuf bent over a manuscript, Nicolo reading Yusuf's notes while wishing the day will slow. It didn't. He laid down with Yusuf with a heavy heart. He slept within Yusuf's arms. He drifted listening to Yusuf murmuring what tales he wished to illustrate when morning cones.
And now it was morning again.
Nicolo felt Yusuf mumble against his neck, burrowing through his hair and sighing when the tip of his nose brushed skin.
Yusuf’s beard tickled, soft when he thought it would be bristly. He remembered how hair scratched him around the mouth as he was yanked to bury his face in a nest of sweaty, wiry hair. He tried to breathe through his nose like Dirar taught him but coarse hair filled his nostrils. He flailed, the man pounding into his mouth did not like that and demanded another.
Nicolo pressed the dagger Yusuf gave him to the man’s spit coated object. He took his small sachet of coins and stumbled off the ship. He used some of the coin to clean and sharpen the dagger he fouled.
The man smelled like rotting meat. Nicolo remember when his ship sailed to war, the rancid meat was all that was left. Nicolo was a former priest and a knight the Church sponsored. No one who would miss him. So no meat for him. He watched others eat it and grow sick and die. The ship smelled like rotting corpses for the entire journey.
When the man (Nicolo could not remember what name he gave him) spent down Nicolo’s throat, he reeked of the same rancid meat. It was in his breath, in the fingers that grappled Nicolo’s hair, in the clothes that rubbed against Nicolo’s face.
Nicolo could not stomach any meat for a time. He ate it in front of Yusuf and then vomited by the pathway that led up to their homes. Nicolo said he was getting water from the well. It was, how Yusuf would say, a necessary lie?
Yusuf did not smell like rancid meat. Or fish. Or wet wood. Or cardamom.
Nicolo was not sure what Yusuf smelled like. Yusuf once lamented he missed the soaps and oils of the bathhouses. Nicolo thought water and a good scrubbing from a handful of pebbles or sand was enough.
But Nicolo found an old woman selling soaps on a worn shawl in Damascus. It smelled like almonds and the honey Yusuf insisted Nicolo try in a village that was by the sea. Nicolo liked the honey.
Yusuf beamed as if Nicolo gifted him a sturdy and able horse. And for days, Yusuf smelled like the soap and...something else.
“...cursed cat,” Yusuf mumbled on Nicolo’s skin. He wiggled closer, his arms around Nicolo, a knee tucked between Nicolo’s legs. It felt like Yusuf wanted to bury Nicolo under his skin.
He...he would not mind so much.
Nicolo bit his lower lip. Yusuf’s was thick and hot on his tongue. It pulsed. It felt like he keot Yusuf's heart warm in his mouth. Nicolo tried to swallow around him and let Yusuf sink deeper into his throat. Yusuf was not angry it took Nicolo two tries.
Nicolo did not understand. He did not realize the strain between his legs was his...he reacted. To Yusuf. Who did not mind Nicolo did not swallow.
“...icolo,” Yusuf sighed and he hummed into Nicolo’s nape. He muttered words Nicolo could not grasp, distracted by the persistent hardness pressed against his lower back.
There was a buzzing growing in Nicolo’s ears. It grew louder as the length rocked into his lower back, slipping lower and brushed along the crack of Nicolo’s buttocks.
Yusuf said he would stop if Nicolo asked him to and Yusuf has. All Nicolo needed to do was wake Yusuf. A jostle (perhaps two because Yusuf was slow to wake) and the strange overwhelming feeling rising from the pit of his stomach and the tight feeling of his skin would end.
Nicolo opened his mouth, hesitated and closed his mouth. He listened to Yusuf breathed. He felt Yusuf’s arms around his middle, his hand spread over Nicolo’s stomach in case Nicolo felt sick.
Nicolo closed his eyes, gulped and shifted back into the heat rocking between his cheeks.
Yusuf hummed, his arms tighter and arched into Nicolo.
Nicolo’s breath caught.
Yusuf’s beard brushed against Nicolo’s nape, his mouth hovering, blowing warm exhales on Nicolo’s neck. Yusuf huffed, mumbled something and his legs moved. His knee glided up between Nicolo’s legs, brushing, pressing, sliding.
Nicolo waited, throat working as Yusuf rocked against him. The feel of him against Nicolo, the friction between Nicolo’s legs and the sounds against his ear...
Nicolo rolled back his shoulders. He leaned into Yusuf, shuddering as the heat, the firm pressure, slipped deeper, pushing his trouser into his crack. Rough fabric grazed over his taint and he felt an unfamiliar fluttering in his hole, a heat billowing up front. His legs twitched, his breath picked up, he felt hot, he...he...
Behind Nicolo, Yusuf jolted, a curse bursting from his lips. Nicolo started, twisting away or towards, he was not sure. He can not think.
“Nicolo, sorry, sorry, I...” Yusuf stammered as he reared back further. His hands skimmed over Nicolo, jerking back when Nicolo tensed.
“It is fine,” Nicolo muttered. He fidgeted, his trousers now uncomfortable gathered in places that made him flush thinking about it. He sat up with an elbow. He glanced over his shoulder at Yusuf. His eyes slid away.
“I did not stop you,” Nicolo admitted. “It is fine.”
Yusuf sat up against the wall, one leg folded, the other pulled up to his chest. When he noticed Nicolo stared at the bulge in his groin, Yusuf flushed.
“Is it fine?” Yusuf said. He lowered his leg. He tugged a corner of the blanket and pulled it over his lap.
“Or is it good?” Yusuf looked wild with his curls in disarray, his beard flattened on the side he slept. His eyes, however, were kind. Yusuf was kind.
“You like it,” Nicolo said.
Yusuf grimaced. “Ah, Nicolo, you talk like the way you swing your sword.” His eyes flick to the wall where Yusuf’s scimitar hung alone. He shook his head.
“Remember what I told you about pleasure?” Yusuf’s gaze was unwavering.
Nicolo sat up as well.
“I do not know if...” Nicolo inhaled sharply. “I do not know what to think.”
“Do you know what to feel?” Yusuf asked gently. “There are things only your heart knows.”
Nicolo set his jaw. He grimaced as he cast his eyes on Yusuf.
“I...” Nicolo’s shoulders dropped. “I do not know what my heart tells me. Not anymore.“
“Nicolo...Can I touch you?” Yusuf asked tentatively.
Nicolo stared at Yusuf. After a moment, he nodded.
Yusuf exhaled sharply. He looked relieved and surprised. He ran a hand through the curls on his head, over and over. It was not an improvement.
“Lie down on your back,” Yusuf croaked.
Nicolo found it easier to say nothing. He settled on his back. He felt his heart racing as Yusuf crawled closer. He hung over Nicolo's body on his hands and knees.
Yusuf stared at Nicolo like a text he was trying to decipher.He nodded and eased himself to lie on his side, facing Nicolo.
"Nicolo," Yusuf murmured. He lifted a hand, waiting for some reason but at last he lowered it to cradle Nicolo's face.
Fingers trailed down Nicolo's face. They brushed up the sweep of his cheekbones. Yusuf traced Nicolo's brow and the shape of his mouth.
Yusuf leaned in. Nicolo tensed. Yusuf tried to kiss him on the mouth many times the past days, but Nicolo feared he would taste the others lingering in his mouth. He had turned his head slightly away, pretending he did not understand the intent in Yusuf's eyes. There would be no escaping here.
A pause. Yusuf hung over Nicolo. His brown eyes, the color of the rich soils by the Nile, studied Nicolo. He leaned in again.
And tapped Nicolo on the nose.
Nicolo stared up. Yusuf grinned.
"Next time," Yusuf said. And winked.
Nicolo felt his chest shudder within. He nodded, not trusting his voice.
Yusuf's gaze softened.
"Nicolo," Yusuf murmured. He tapped Nicolo on his chin. "We have time. Tomorrow, after Aziz, we will have all the time to know each other again."
Nicolo reached up and stroked Yusuf's bearded chin with two fingers. He felt Yusuf's breath catch as his fingers traced Yusuf's jugular.
"Do you feel it beating out your name?" Yusuf spread his palm over Nicolo's heart.
"Do you feel mine beating out yours?" Nicolo's fingers traced the line down to Yusuf's neckline, slipping in to follow the span of his collarbone. It was strong under warm skin. There was a sense of undeserved privilege touching Yusuf like this.
Yusuf copied Nicolo, a look of wonder on his face Nicolo knew mirrored his own.
"I feel like I want to shower you with poetry," Yusuf breathed as his hand smoothed over Nicolo's chest, over and over Nicolo's shirt. "But I can not think of any words. How strange. What magic have you cast on me?"
Nicolo shivered as the fabric brushed over his nipples, offering a hint of Yusuf's hand.
"Good?" Yusuf murmured. "Nicolo, can I see you? Truly see you?"
Nicolo raised his arms. He exhaled unsteadily as he felt Yusuf pulled the tunic over his head.
The nights on Cairo were cold yet Nicolo felt overheated lying on the bed under Yusuf's intense gaze.
"Hello, Nicolo," Yusuf whispered. He dropped his hand on the center of Nicolo's chest.
Nicolo breathed and felt Yusuf's hand rise and fall with him. He uttered a sound, startled, when Yusuf traced his left nipple. It was like Yusuf was drawing on his skin, his long fingers, dusky and strong holding a fragile pen and teaching ink to dance on paper.
Yusuf's finger stilled over the nub and pressed over it.
Nicolo's hand flew up to grasp Yusuf's wrist.
"Should I stop?" Yusuf asked. He stilled his hand, His other hand went up and stroked Nicolo's face. "I can stop. You need only but ask."
"Can...can I see you?" Nicolo croaked. "Truly?"
Yusuf's eyes widened. He nodded but did not move.
Yusuf chuckled throaty and fond.
"You would need to let go of my hand first, hobi."
Nicolo grimaced but let go. He watched Yusuf stretch, his torso reaching, his arms raised as his sleep shirt slipped over his head.
Yusuf's torso was of smooth tan skin. Dark short hairs covered his chest and a thin trail went into his trousers.
"I look like I am fading next to you," Nicolo murmured as he tentatively splayed a hand on Yusuf's stomach. He felt Yusuf's stomach sink as he sucked in a breath.
"Do not fade," Yusuf rasped. He covered Nicolo's hand with his own on his stomach. "Stay here. With me."
Nicolo nodded as he stared at their hands.
Yusuf explored Nicolo's body with careful sweeps of his hands. He leaned in close to let Nicolo do the same, copying touch for touch. Yusuf groaned and Nicolo followed. Nicolo dropped a shaky kiss on Yusuf's navel. Yusuf laved Nicolo's until he writhed.
It was different. It was nothing the others wanted or demanded of Nicolo. They thrilled in watching Nicolo helplessly tried to take them into his mouth.
But Yusuf did not seem to desire the same. Where their hands grabbed and pulled, Yusuf's cradled and skimmed. Yusuf drew symbols on his heaving stomach. He traced Nicolo's ribs with a nimble wet tongue. And when Nicolo bucked, his mind spinning with the frightening sensation that coursed through his entire body, Yusuf held him close, murmuring quiet words while Nicolo shook into his release. He let Nicolo take him into his mouth again, to help ease the strain that weighed between Yusuf's legs.
Yusuf would not let him swallow once again. But he hugged and thanked Nicolo as if Nicolo did.
Nicolo did not understand. As he sat on the bed, cleaning up the stains between his legs and down his thighs, he tried to think. He tried to figure out how Yusuf was different and how did Yusuf's touch drew out such a well of feeling in Nicolo.
"That is not a happy look."
Nicolo glanced up. His throat worked. Yusuf opted to wash up outside but he did not put his tunic back on. He found himself studying the way Yusuf's chest sculpted, a hint of muscles the rippled across his chest and down the front of his stomach. Nicolo's eyes lingered on the loose waist line and the thin line of hair that disappeared into it.
The bed creaked when Yusuf sat down next to Nicolo. He pulled up Nicolo's hands and kissed each knuckle.
"How are you?" Yusuf murmured. He slipped a hand around Yusuf's nape. "How do you feel?"
Nicolo smiled weakly.
"That does not fill me with joy." Yusuf's hands caught Nicolo's face between them.
"Tell me."
"I...it was good," Nicolo said at last. "I think."
Yusuf nodded, inviting Nicolo to continue.
Nicolo sighed. He closed his eyes.
"But part of me is confused. It did not..." It did not hurt. It did not coat his insides with misery and shame and...
"Tomorrow," Yusuf murmured. "After Aziz, we will go by the Nile. And you will tell me. Everything." Yusuf held onto Nicolo's hands. "Tell me what has made you so unhappy, so confused. Please. My mind conjures up so many things of what it could be. I need to hear it from you."
Nicolo nodded miserably.
"Tomorrow," Nicolo mumbled. "It will be over tomorrow." He would hold these days in his heart to keep him warm during his eternity.
-------------------------------
Tomorrooooooow.
Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 10B/14
Date: 2020-10-08 10:21 pm (UTC)Re: Yusuf/Nicolo Forced Prostitution Fill : Needs of the Other 10B/14
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