topino | crusades amnesia psl

"How could he have ever predicted a man like me, a gift like ours, and a man like you?" he posits, as he strokes his fingers through Yusuf's curls, humming with content. "Though, he should know. A man like you is god-given. You would think the Pope would know about a miracle like this."

There ought to be no doubt which handsome man he means, especially not after that, and if there is, he kisses Yusuf firmly to seal his promise and his sincerity.

"He could not," Yusuf returns, closing his eyes as Nicolo cards through his hair gently. "There was no predicting you, Nicolo." He tilts his head to the side when he is called a miracle, his hands stroking up Nicolo's back, leaning into the kiss passionately.

"You have called me much worse things, tesoro," he teases when the kiss finally breaks, attempting a pet name in Nicolo's own language. "But I am not the miracle. We are." This love they share, against all odds.

Nicolo shivers for the way the language sounds falling off Yusuf's lips. It is a treasure in itself, and he swoops in for a desperate kiss, eager to enjoy and spend as much time with this as he can -- skin to skin, body to body, feeling right.

"And where do we go now?" he wonders. "What city would have such a miracle within its walls?"

Nicolo's shiver is deep enough to be perceptible and Yusuf smiles knowingly, making a note of it. He'll need to spend time researching pet names in Nicolo's mother tongue, it seems.

He leans their foreheads together, his eyes closed and his arms around Nicolo's shoulders. "Anywhere we like?" He offers, his voice soft. "What is stopping us?" They have defeated hate, they have defeated time itself.

Nicolo presses in against Yusuf, greedy for everything he is being given. This is not excluded. "In that case, where do you want to go?" he asks. They've spent so long at odds, fighting both each other and the things they feel, it almost feels foreign to have that question asked.

But he means it. He means it more than anything.

"I want to do what you want."

It does feel foreign to hear Nicolo ask him this question, though not unpleasant. Yusuf keeps stroking his fingers through Nicolo's hair, gently, not pulling.

"I think I would like to see the sea again," Yusuf says, his tone careful. The country he was born in, if not the specific city. That would be bittersweet, and he might be recognized yet. "Nico," he says softly, almost reprovingly. "You don't need to. We can decide together." Is this Nicolo atoning, still? It feels wrong somehow.

"We have time enough," Nicolo says, and he means it to be gentle, not insistent. He tries. "This will be your turn. Then, I can decide what I would like to do." He inhales deeply, enjoying the touch to his hair. "I would not mind the sea as well."

"I especially like the thought of you in the sea," is his low addition, a very pleasant image in mind now that he thinks of it.

"True," Yusuf agrees, his tone quiet. They have enough time. Too much, perhaps. It frightens him, when he thinks about it.

He nods, slowly. "Okay. The sea first, and then you get to decide where we should go next." He smiles, petting through Nicolo's hair slowly, letting him enjoy it. He arches an eyebrow, amused at the idea of Nicolo agreeing because he wants to see him in the sea. "Is that so? I thought it was a selfless decision to make me happy, but you had ulterior motives, didn't you?" he teases, leaning in to kiss Nicolo playfully.

Nicolo tips his head to the side, his mouth a soft moue of playful ignorance. "I cannot be a saint," he deadpans, because he is far from it. If not for his injury, he wonders how long he would have continued to be antagonistic to Yusuf, simply because it was as taught.

The kiss settles him, and he lets his fingers slide to the base of Yusuf's neck to tangle with his curls. "Can you blame me? You are like art, when you are soaking wet."

Yusuf has to laugh, though he does so quietly, his face tipped down towards Nicolo's bare shoulder. "That would be unfair for me to ask," he agrees, gently. Nicolo is not a saint but neither is he, and he doesn't want to stir up feelings of guilt right now, not when they're having such a peaceful moment.

"Am I?" he teases, amused at the idea. "Have you been looking much, Nico?" he teases, keeping his tone kind once more. He suspects Nicolo has, but so has Yusuf, to be fair. He shakes his head, cupping Nicolo's face to stroke along his jaw. "If I had charcoal and parchment I would sketch little else but you, ya amar."

Nicolo does not mean to blush, but Yusuf's teasing makes the colour arise in his cheeks, unbidden. "How can I not? You are the most handsome thing for leagues," he mock-complains, as if it is a hardship. He turns to kiss the pads of Yusuf's fingers, smiling fondly.

"Then I shall find coin and buy you charcoal and parchment, as much as your heart desires," he says, determined to provide for all Yusuf's wants.

Yusuf preens a little at being called the most handsome man around, stroking his thumb over Nicolo's lips when he feels him kiss the pads of his fingers. "Oh yes, and I'm sure you've suffered much from it," he teases, flattered.

"That would be nice," he agrees, fondly. "Would you sit for me, too, so I can draw you?" He strokes his hand down Nicolo's naked back.

Nicolo kisses the pad of Yusuf's thumb tenderly, reaching out to gently hold his wrist, just to have him in place so he can't go anywhere just yet. One more kiss and finally, he relents and releases him.

"I think I could," he says, as if he has to consider it. "So long as my time hasn't been occupied by anything else, I am all yours."

Yusuf doesn't want to go anywhere. There is nowhere else he'd like to be.

He lets Nicolo kiss his thumb, smiling at the gentle feeling and leaning in when Nicolo releases him to kiss his lips, instead. "Very generous of you, Nicolo," he teases in return, though the words send a little shiver down his spine. "All mine?" he repeats cupping Nicolo's face with both hands.

He could say forever. It might be true, and it might not be. "Yes," is what he says instead, and doesn't disclaim it as 'as long as you want' or 'as long as time lets us'. Just, "Yes, always." Because if it were up to Nicolo, he wouldn't leave.

He cups his cheek and holds him reverently, as one should with precious things. "Let that be a promise."

"I'll hold you to it," Yusuf answers, leaning into the touch, his eyes falling shut. "Always could be a long time, Nicolo," he points out, turning his head to kiss Nicolo's palm gently. "Can you imagine us together, in a hundred years?"

Yusuf wonders if they'll live that long, and what the world will be then.

"Yes," he says instantly, because he can. In his mind, he has pictured them older, but it is becoming clear that they will not age. He will not see Yusuf with grays and whites speckled in his beard, but it doesn't matter. He will have the handsome and youthful man with him.

He very much likes that idea, in his heart.

"We will be new people," he admits. "Perhaps sick of each other?"

Yusuf smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners when Nicolo answers him straight away. "So can I," he agrees, slowly. Nicolo will be his North star, he thinks. The world will be ever-changing, and Nicolo will stay the same, steady at Yusuf's side.

He snorts, amused at the idea. "If we haven't grown sick of each other so far, when we were arguing all the time, I don't think we ever will." Especially now that everything is so sweet between them.

"It will be nice, to have someone at my side," Nicolo admits, his voice hushed. He has not thought too much on the details of this eternal life, but he can only imagine how lonely it might have become if he'd decided to walk it alone.

With Yusuf, it is not a fear he need have.

"We will have to learn to talk, though, and not simply use rocks or our bodies," he admits, even if it is hard to.

"I will be there," Yusuf confirms, reaching out to stroke up Nicolo's hip to his ribs. "At your side. Always." Where else would he be?

He snorts, giving Nicolo an amused look at the suggestion, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "I think I've had enough rocks to last me for an eternity," Yusuf agrees, tilting his head to the side. "We could still use our bodies, though," he teases, waggling his eyebrows. He grins but his tone gets more serious after a second, more genuine. "You can talk to me, Nicolo. I'm always listening."

Nicolo raises his brow, aware of the misstep he's made with language. Ears red at the tips, he clears his throat as he works to correct himself. "Well. Yes. Of course. That is, our bodies could be used that way, not in violence."

It takes a moment to settle, but finally, he is there.

"I need for you to tell me when I'm getting on your nerves, so we can understand how to live that way, instead of you beating me over the head. I think that will be a big step forward, no?"

Yusuf grins, bright and pleased, at Nicolo's embarrassment. He's not making fun of him though, he's just delighted to be able to have this effect on Nicolo with just a few words. "It might turn up to be a lot more productive," he agrees, his eyebrows arched. "It'll feel nicer, too." As they've just experienced.

He hums, reaching out to touch Nicolo's cheek. "I don't want to hit you over the head with a rock anymore," he admits, quietly. He feels bad, to a certain extent, for the last time he did. He smiles again, a little sly. "I can complain whenever you're being annoying, instead," he offers, playfully. Be careful what you wish for, Nicolo.

If what they've just done is any hint, then it will feel very nice, he knows that. His cheeks flush just a little to think of all there is to learn and do, and how much he wants it. That desire is something he will have to come to terms with, simply with how much it seems it could consume him.

Nicolo's eyes fall shut to the touch, exhaling with fondness and appreciation. "I was, maybe, being frustrating," he concedes, opening his eyes just so he can wink. "You could do other things to punish me, I think. Maybe deny me something I want very much," he murmurs, and slides his palm down to graze Yusuf's length.

Yusuf strokes his thumb across Nicolo's flushed cheek tenderly, smiling when he feels him lean into the touch. It still amazes him to see how tender he can finally be, and how readily Nicolo accepts it.

"On purpose?" he teases, grinning at the wink. "How rude." Yusuf knew that, he thinks. It seemed to him that Nicolo was trying to get under his skin at times, and having too easy a time of it. It's nice to see that he was right, to a certain extent. "And I was nothing but patient with you, too." That's very much a lie, and Yusuf's wry tone shows he's aware of it.

He shivers at the touch, shifting to stroke his thumb over Nicolo's lower lip instead. "I could," he allows, his voice low. "But I would be denying myself too, wouldn't I?"

Nicolo's breath catches at the touch of Yusuf's thumb, so soft and warm and perfect, and his smile is tremulous as he wonders how he can be lucky enough to deserve such things. "It would be denying both of us the pleasure. I suppose we will need to find new ways," he murmurs, his voice rough with wanting and longing and emotion.

"Tonight, will you stay with me? Sleep curled around me? It is all I have wanted for months, without being able to tell you."

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stillthrillsme - 2022-09-20 22:16 (UTC) - Expand