Yusuf makes a soft noise at Nicolo's frantic plea, moving to kneel between his spread thighs and put his face there. There is no doubt that this is about worship for Yusuf and he takes his time, humming as he presses kisses to Nicolo's inner thighs, kneading at the muscles with both hands, rubbing his bearded face against sensitive skin until it reddens, if only for a few seconds.
"Nico," he whispers, moving up until Nicolo's thighs are against his shoulders, his voice low and hungry. He looks up and meets Nicolo's eyes as his mouth finds the tip of his cock, giving him a soft kiss, licking around slowly before he takes him in.
This feels like a sin to enjoy, yet Nicolo has left behind a monastic life. Why shouldn't he embrace sin and indulgence if it feels this good? Letting Yusuf between his thighs is excellent, and he reaches a hand down to tangle in his curls, gripping on and holding so he won't go anywhere.
Not that he thinks he will, but better safe than sorry.
"Yusuf," he answers with a bright laugh, clear as anything that he is in rapturous glee, moaning desperately as his head falls back at the kiss to his cock, groaning loudly when he's taken in. Never mind the saints or their miracles he'd once hoped for.
This is the most holy thing Nicolo could ever hope to experience.
Yusuf pulls up when his name is called, watching Nicolo laugh and groan and throw his head back. "I'm here," he returns, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he grins, bright and wanting.
Nicolo's fingers feel good in his hair, just tight enough to send a little thrill down his back, and Yusuf is determined to draw more ragged groans from him, to unravel him until Nicolo shakes apart under him.
He kisses Nicolo's thighs again and then puts his mouth back on his cock, hollowing his cheeks to suck harder, flicking his tongue, trying to see what Nicolo likes best. He hasn't done this in a long time but he's determined to get it right, and give Nicolo a first time worth remembering.
Is this what he has been missing for so long? Could this have been his life if he had been a merchant and not a monk, sailing the seas and finding the love that's been waiting for him out here. Yusuf is here and right now, he is Nicolo's, and it is the most wondrous thing in the world.
He tightens his grip on Yusuf's hair when the sucking turns harder, squirming as he works not to thrust his hips up. It would not do for their newborn truce to suddenly impale Yusuf in this way.
"Is it always like this?" he wonders, and then, swiftly, "No. No, do not tell me."
Yusuf can feel Nicolo's hips tremble with the need to buck up and it makes him groan, imagining what it would feel like if Nicolo was less polite and decided to use him in that way. He gasps as the grip on his hair tightens, shuddering, his eyebrows furrowing as he takes Nicolo in deeper.
The question draws him short and he leans up to catch his breath, wiping his wet mouth with the back of his hand. "No," he whispers, his eyes dark and wide as he stares up to Nicolo. "No. It's never like this, Nico."
Nicolo gives a short whine when Yusuf pulls away, coughing to try and mask the sound, refusing to let his dignity slip away so easily. He must not have Yusuf think that he is this desperate (even if he is), but he wants that warmth back.
He is also undone by the sight of him wiping his hand on his mouth, which has been on his length.
He's struck by the sudden urge for more, and without asking, he grabs at Yusuf's neck to haul him down for a fierce, claiming kiss, wanting to have that mouth on his, after where it's been. "Only this," he mumbles against his lips, "from now on."
Yusuf yelps in surprise, the sound muffled against Nicolo's lips. It takes him a second to find his bearings and steady himself on Nicolo's broad shoulders but then he's kissing back, warm and filthy, his eyes squeezed shut to better focus on the sensation.
"Only this," he confirms, nipping on Nicolo's lower lip as he withdraws, both his hands coming to cup his cheeks. He takes a second to look at Nicolo's flushed face, his thumb brushing against the mole on his jaw. "Only you," he adds, feeling vulnerable under Nicolo's darkened gaze.
It pleases him in a way that Nicolo has never experienced before. The approval of Yusuf's praise and his promise is enough to make his cheeks go red with pleasure, discovering that it seems he has an affinity for being told that he is enough (that he is everything).
"Yes," he exhales, desperately, and lies back, heart pounding in his chest. When he feels he can breathe again, he sits up, just a little. "Show me," he insists. "How I can give you pleasure?"
"Nico," Yusuf says softly, cupping both of Nicolo's red cheeks in the palms of his hands, watching the way Yusuf's words have affected him. For all that he is sometimes difficult to read, Nicolo is an open book right now.
Yusuf swallows, his hands stroking down to Nicolo's hips, watching him in the flickering light of their candle. "Do you still want me inside you?" he asks, leaning down to press more bristly kisses to Nicolo's thighs, his eyes intent.
He nods, because the truth is he never wants Yusuf to leave, but that is an embarrassing admission that will reveal his weakness for the other man. Despite their progress, he's still not sure he can admit to that out loud. "Yes," he grits out, breathless and hard-won.
He is so beautiful in this light, unlike anyone Nicolo has been with before, and he lets out a faint moan at those teasing kisses. "You will make me long for that beard," he complains. "For how good it feels there."
"Yes," Yusuf confirms, repeating Nicolo's soft-spoken agreement. He smiles when Nicolo complains about his beard, his toothy grin gleaming in the dim light. "What makes you think that's not the plan?" he teases, pressing another kiss to Nicolo's inner thigh. Nicolo can have this any time he likes, really. He just has to ask and Yusuf will be happy to comply.
"Stay in bed," he tells Nicolo, patting his knee as he pushes himself up to his feet, stepping away to rummage at the meager stocks on their shelves. There is only olive oil there, which Yusuf thinks will work for this, even though it's not his favourite.
He sets it on the floor by the bed, settling back between Nicolo's legs and leaning in to give him a kiss. "I'm not going to hurt you," he whispers against Nicolo's lips, leaning their foreheads together. "But you have to take deep breaths, and let me in." Otherwise, Yusuf knows from experience, it will be uncomfortable.
Nicolo could not move anywhere even if he wanted, so for Yusuf to imply that he might leave is madness. He stretches out his body, from head to toe, his entire body feeling a pleasure unlike anything he's ever felt, and then Yusuf is back with a new kiss.
Closing his eyes, he tries to trust in those words. Only recently, this man has killed him. Nicolo should be on guard. Even now, he is warning him that he is not going to hurt him, but what if he lies?
And yet, after the bliss he's been feeling, how could he not believe it? Kissing him back, his heartbeat quickens, and he is not sure, but he is also not going to turn him away. "Yes," he vows. "I will do my best. Do it."
Yusuf waits patiently, watching Nicolo struggle with allowing this, with trusting him. He leans their foreheads together again when Nicolo agrees, nodding along and arching an eyebrow at him. "Pay attention," he reminds, a little playful to try and help Nicolo relax. "You'll need to remember later." They've agreed, after all, on total equality in this.
He uncorks the bottle of oil with his teeth, pouring some into his palm and spreading it to his fingers, warming it. "You can roll over, if you'd like," he tells Nicolo, gently. "Or stay on your back, but you'll need to spread your thighs wide so I can touch you." Whatever is more comfortable for Nicolo, really.
"You will make me repeat the steps, I'm sure," Nicolo murmurs, trying to take solace in this soft joking, because he wants to think about that and not worrying about whether a sharp knife or a heavy rock will be coming down on his head in the next few moments.
Still, the sight of Yusuf and that oil are a transfixing thing. He stays on his back, but only because it's a wonderful picture. "I want to watch you," he confesses, as he lets his thighs widen, heart racing with anticipation and a touch of fear. "If I kick you, I don't mean to," he hurries to add. "Instinct."
Nothing of the sort will be coming down on Nicolo, just Yusuf bowing his bearded face to kiss the bared skin of his thighs again, his eyes dark and hungry. "You can watch me," he allows, his lips brushing against Nicolo's cock. "I'll watch you too."
He huffs at the warning but seems undaunted, grinning up to Nicolo. "Not in the face, please," he requests, playfully, and shifts to kiss Nicolo's ankle, pressing his leg higher. Yusuf's touch is careful when it comes, spreading oil against Nicolo in gentle circles with his thumb. "Deep breaths," he reminds, and gives Nicolo a few seconds to get used to the idea before he applies more pressure, the tip of his thumb slipping in.
"Your face is too beautiful to mar, even for a second." Though, there is a part of Nicolo that wants to see him bloodied so Nicolo can wipe it clean. After being the cause of his pain for so long, now he yearns to be the one to free him from it.
One day, maybe. Not today, because Yusuf is tending to his needs.
He inhales deeply, tongue on his lower lip as he waits with anticipation. "Ah," is all he manages, when the thumb eases in. "Oh," is a breath out after, when it's nothing like he expected. And then, "More," is greedy, with determination.
"It would heal," Yusuf tells him gently, pressing more kisses to Nicolo's thighs. It is touching, however, to hear Nicolo say he doesn't want to harm him, not even for a second.
Yusuf watches the look on Nicolo's face raptly, his eyebrows arching at the small sounds he lets out. He smiles, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. "Not so bad, right?" he teases, drawing slow circles with his thumb to push Nicolo's body to relax, pressing in and out shallowly, letting him get used to it. If Nicolo seems comfortable with that he'll replace his thumb with two fingers, carefully stretching him wider and pushing in deeper, shuddering at how tight and warm Nicolo feels.
Then again, maybe he does owe Yusuf a little, because even if the amnesia had led to this, he still now remembers the rock that had made it happen. All things in time, and he thinks there are other things he can use to torture Yusuf with.
Right now, the shoe is on the other foot, and Yusuf is the one torturing him, but in such a pleasing, pleasant, perfect way. "You are trying to make me praise you," he grumpily mutters, as though he is not seconds from it, squirming at the slow progress. "Yes. Yes, Yusuf, it is not bad at all, now give me more," he insists again.
Yusuf could take it. He would even probably enjoy it, depending on what method Nicolo chose to torture him with. For now still, he's focusing on making this good for Nicolo, keeping his first time easy and pleasurable.
"I'm not," he defends, chuckling. "I'm just making sure I'm not hurting you." He smiles at Nicolo's impatience, kissing his inner thigh again before he adds a third finger, slow and cautious. This is the part that could get uncomfortable and he tries to compensate by looking for the spot that will make Nicolo gasp. He knows from experience that it's in there somewhere and he watches Nicolo's face as he looks for the correct angle, his eyebrows arched.
"I'll heal," is his impertinent and impatient reminder. Even if he's hurt too much, they will deal with it after. All that he cares about now is the pleasure that will come from that, and if there is a moment of pain, it will be worth it for the pleasure.
At least, he has convinced himself of this, because in his mind, Yusuf cannot do any wrong now that he has this. He squirms when the third finger is in, exhaling slowly as he settles. "Kiss me again like that and you can hurt me a little more," he barters. The feeling is not unpleasant, but not pleasant, not yet. "Are you preparing me? Or on an expedition?"
"I don't want you to have to," Yusuf corrects, gently. He knows Nicolo would heal from a minor injury in seconds, but the thought of causing him pain when he's trusting Yusuf with this is abhorrent.
He grins at what Nicolo says next, shaking his head before he complies, kissing Nicolo's inner thighs again, rubbing his beard there gently. "I'll kiss you anywhere you like," he says, very earnestly, his eyes dark as he looks up to Nicolo. "Any time you like." He means that, too.
"It is a little like an expedition," he agrees, withdrawing carefully. "You're ready," he tells Nicolo, crawling back up so he can kiss him on the lips again, settling between Nicolo's thighs. "Yes?" he says, rolling his hips slowly, hissing between his teeth when his cock lines up against Nicolo's, feeling so good he has to close his eyes and lean their foreheads together again.
Nicolo's breaths are softer, longer, and far more content for every additional kiss Yusuf gives him. It is all he needs, and he is content to simply enjoy them, biting his lip as he tips his head up to steal the most important kiss of all.
Those glorious words might almost be better than the kiss, even.
"Yes," he pleads, nodding frantically against Yusuf's head, hair a sticky mess between them. "In me, please."
Yusuf nods along, turning his face so his forehead is against Nicolo's temple and he can watch him up close, making sure this doesn't get too overwhelming.
There is a little adjusting needed, Yusuf pushing Nicolo's thighs wider and higher so he can reach, circling his own cock with his fingers to guide himself against Nicolo's body.
He takes a shaky breath and rocks his hips, finding the place where Nicolo is slick and open. There is resistance at first despite his careful preparation, but then Nicolo's body opens for him all at once, Yusuf letting out a shocked gasp as he presses in, striving to keep his eyes open to look at Nicolo's face.
Nicolo is glad Yusuf is this close, because he might miss some of the terrible faces that Nicolo is making as they work and adjust, wrinkling his nose, trying not to look like a slack-jawed idiot, but knowing that he will probably still come off as one.
Unfortunate as it is.
Still, that idiocy melts into pleasure soon enough, turning his head to catch Yusuf's eye as he pushes into him, and it doesn't hurt like he thought it might, but he suspects that to be Yusuf's plan all along. "Tell me," he pleads, insistent and half-desperate. "Do I feel good for you?"
Yusuf doesn't mind any of Nicolo's faces, truly. They are all beautiful to him, and it is even gratifying to see Nicolo's usually stoic countenance crack open to reveal so many emotions at once. At any rate, Yusuf thinks he probably doesn't look much smarter at the moment, his eyebrows furrowed with the effort of going slowly, biting down on his lower lip a little too hard.
He makes a strained noise at the question, pressing his sweaty forehead against Nicolo's neck and nodding there until he manages to form words again. "Yes. So good, Nicolo." He rocks his hips, slow and controlled despite the trembling in his arms. "Am I hurting you?" he whispers, lifting his head to look at Nicolo again, his eyes dark but watchful.
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"Nico," he whispers, moving up until Nicolo's thighs are against his shoulders, his voice low and hungry. He looks up and meets Nicolo's eyes as his mouth finds the tip of his cock, giving him a soft kiss, licking around slowly before he takes him in.
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Not that he thinks he will, but better safe than sorry.
"Yusuf," he answers with a bright laugh, clear as anything that he is in rapturous glee, moaning desperately as his head falls back at the kiss to his cock, groaning loudly when he's taken in. Never mind the saints or their miracles he'd once hoped for.
This is the most holy thing Nicolo could ever hope to experience.
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Nicolo's fingers feel good in his hair, just tight enough to send a little thrill down his back, and Yusuf is determined to draw more ragged groans from him, to unravel him until Nicolo shakes apart under him.
He kisses Nicolo's thighs again and then puts his mouth back on his cock, hollowing his cheeks to suck harder, flicking his tongue, trying to see what Nicolo likes best. He hasn't done this in a long time but he's determined to get it right, and give Nicolo a first time worth remembering.
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He tightens his grip on Yusuf's hair when the sucking turns harder, squirming as he works not to thrust his hips up. It would not do for their newborn truce to suddenly impale Yusuf in this way.
"Is it always like this?" he wonders, and then, swiftly, "No. No, do not tell me."
The jealousy will consume him whole, he thinks.
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The question draws him short and he leans up to catch his breath, wiping his wet mouth with the back of his hand. "No," he whispers, his eyes dark and wide as he stares up to Nicolo. "No. It's never like this, Nico."
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He is also undone by the sight of him wiping his hand on his mouth, which has been on his length.
He's struck by the sudden urge for more, and without asking, he grabs at Yusuf's neck to haul him down for a fierce, claiming kiss, wanting to have that mouth on his, after where it's been. "Only this," he mumbles against his lips, "from now on."
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"Only this," he confirms, nipping on Nicolo's lower lip as he withdraws, both his hands coming to cup his cheeks. He takes a second to look at Nicolo's flushed face, his thumb brushing against the mole on his jaw. "Only you," he adds, feeling vulnerable under Nicolo's darkened gaze.
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"Yes," he exhales, desperately, and lies back, heart pounding in his chest. When he feels he can breathe again, he sits up, just a little. "Show me," he insists. "How I can give you pleasure?"
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Yusuf swallows, his hands stroking down to Nicolo's hips, watching him in the flickering light of their candle. "Do you still want me inside you?" he asks, leaning down to press more bristly kisses to Nicolo's thighs, his eyes intent.
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He is so beautiful in this light, unlike anyone Nicolo has been with before, and he lets out a faint moan at those teasing kisses. "You will make me long for that beard," he complains. "For how good it feels there."
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"Stay in bed," he tells Nicolo, patting his knee as he pushes himself up to his feet, stepping away to rummage at the meager stocks on their shelves. There is only olive oil there, which Yusuf thinks will work for this, even though it's not his favourite.
He sets it on the floor by the bed, settling back between Nicolo's legs and leaning in to give him a kiss. "I'm not going to hurt you," he whispers against Nicolo's lips, leaning their foreheads together. "But you have to take deep breaths, and let me in." Otherwise, Yusuf knows from experience, it will be uncomfortable.
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Closing his eyes, he tries to trust in those words. Only recently, this man has killed him. Nicolo should be on guard. Even now, he is warning him that he is not going to hurt him, but what if he lies?
And yet, after the bliss he's been feeling, how could he not believe it? Kissing him back, his heartbeat quickens, and he is not sure, but he is also not going to turn him away. "Yes," he vows. "I will do my best. Do it."
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He uncorks the bottle of oil with his teeth, pouring some into his palm and spreading it to his fingers, warming it. "You can roll over, if you'd like," he tells Nicolo, gently. "Or stay on your back, but you'll need to spread your thighs wide so I can touch you." Whatever is more comfortable for Nicolo, really.
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Still, the sight of Yusuf and that oil are a transfixing thing. He stays on his back, but only because it's a wonderful picture. "I want to watch you," he confesses, as he lets his thighs widen, heart racing with anticipation and a touch of fear. "If I kick you, I don't mean to," he hurries to add. "Instinct."
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He huffs at the warning but seems undaunted, grinning up to Nicolo. "Not in the face, please," he requests, playfully, and shifts to kiss Nicolo's ankle, pressing his leg higher. Yusuf's touch is careful when it comes, spreading oil against Nicolo in gentle circles with his thumb. "Deep breaths," he reminds, and gives Nicolo a few seconds to get used to the idea before he applies more pressure, the tip of his thumb slipping in.
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One day, maybe. Not today, because Yusuf is tending to his needs.
He inhales deeply, tongue on his lower lip as he waits with anticipation. "Ah," is all he manages, when the thumb eases in. "Oh," is a breath out after, when it's nothing like he expected. And then, "More," is greedy, with determination.
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Yusuf watches the look on Nicolo's face raptly, his eyebrows arching at the small sounds he lets out. He smiles, his dark eyes crinkling at the corners. "Not so bad, right?" he teases, drawing slow circles with his thumb to push Nicolo's body to relax, pressing in and out shallowly, letting him get used to it. If Nicolo seems comfortable with that he'll replace his thumb with two fingers, carefully stretching him wider and pushing in deeper, shuddering at how tight and warm Nicolo feels.
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Then again, maybe he does owe Yusuf a little, because even if the amnesia had led to this, he still now remembers the rock that had made it happen. All things in time, and he thinks there are other things he can use to torture Yusuf with.
Right now, the shoe is on the other foot, and Yusuf is the one torturing him, but in such a pleasing, pleasant, perfect way. "You are trying to make me praise you," he grumpily mutters, as though he is not seconds from it, squirming at the slow progress. "Yes. Yes, Yusuf, it is not bad at all, now give me more," he insists again.
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"I'm not," he defends, chuckling. "I'm just making sure I'm not hurting you." He smiles at Nicolo's impatience, kissing his inner thigh again before he adds a third finger, slow and cautious. This is the part that could get uncomfortable and he tries to compensate by looking for the spot that will make Nicolo gasp. He knows from experience that it's in there somewhere and he watches Nicolo's face as he looks for the correct angle, his eyebrows arched.
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At least, he has convinced himself of this, because in his mind, Yusuf cannot do any wrong now that he has this. He squirms when the third finger is in, exhaling slowly as he settles. "Kiss me again like that and you can hurt me a little more," he barters. The feeling is not unpleasant, but not pleasant, not yet. "Are you preparing me? Or on an expedition?"
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He grins at what Nicolo says next, shaking his head before he complies, kissing Nicolo's inner thighs again, rubbing his beard there gently. "I'll kiss you anywhere you like," he says, very earnestly, his eyes dark as he looks up to Nicolo. "Any time you like." He means that, too.
"It is a little like an expedition," he agrees, withdrawing carefully. "You're ready," he tells Nicolo, crawling back up so he can kiss him on the lips again, settling between Nicolo's thighs. "Yes?" he says, rolling his hips slowly, hissing between his teeth when his cock lines up against Nicolo's, feeling so good he has to close his eyes and lean their foreheads together again.
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Those glorious words might almost be better than the kiss, even.
"Yes," he pleads, nodding frantically against Yusuf's head, hair a sticky mess between them. "In me, please."
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There is a little adjusting needed, Yusuf pushing Nicolo's thighs wider and higher so he can reach, circling his own cock with his fingers to guide himself against Nicolo's body.
He takes a shaky breath and rocks his hips, finding the place where Nicolo is slick and open. There is resistance at first despite his careful preparation, but then Nicolo's body opens for him all at once, Yusuf letting out a shocked gasp as he presses in, striving to keep his eyes open to look at Nicolo's face.
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Unfortunate as it is.
Still, that idiocy melts into pleasure soon enough, turning his head to catch Yusuf's eye as he pushes into him, and it doesn't hurt like he thought it might, but he suspects that to be Yusuf's plan all along. "Tell me," he pleads, insistent and half-desperate. "Do I feel good for you?"
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He makes a strained noise at the question, pressing his sweaty forehead against Nicolo's neck and nodding there until he manages to form words again. "Yes. So good, Nicolo." He rocks his hips, slow and controlled despite the trembling in his arms. "Am I hurting you?" he whispers, lifting his head to look at Nicolo again, his eyes dark but watchful.
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