topino | (no subject)

Do you still have that journal to keep track of all our weddings? I should like to know where we must celebrate the anniversaries,when we can.

I'm happy to delight. If I'm in a tuxedo, I might as well offer you anything else you might want. Any requests?

Of course I do, habibi. It's always in the bottom of my bag, just in case we need to add another to the list.

Do you remember the first one?

All I need is you to look at me the way you did then when I first called you 'Husband'. That secret, private ceremony, for just us. The first of many times I tied myself to you for eternity.

In that case, let's bring it out again to add a new one. This time, I will wear a tuxedo and you can call me husband in front of a small gathering, maybe in a nice little villa.

I don't remember the details of the first, but I remember you. I remember the name 'husband' from your lips for the first time and thinking to myself that this is what I was meant to be.

It was long ago. Illegal and secret. I can't remember as much as I should, but I remember you in such a fine outfit. I remember Andy doing that ancient ceremony for us.

And I remember calling you husband and you calling me the same. And everything was how it was destined to be.

I thought I loved you desperately, then. I don't know how I have room for it all in my body but I swear to you, my love, it grows every day.

Most of the best things we did were illegal and secret, Joe, but that's what made them fun. I remember only you. I remember calling you my husband, and I remember how I felt that night.

It grows in me, too. You make a space every morning with a new kiss, I think. And I love you for it. It makes me so proud to be the man you love, and it's why I want to do good and right, because I want to earn all your adoration.

There is nothing you need to do in order to have my devotion. You've laid claim to every inch of it from our first moments. There is nothing you could do to be free of it, now.

My husband. Then, now, and forever.

There is no world in which I would want to be free of it, but you always rain such perfect devotions and poetry over me. You know how I like to offer what I can back.

Your husband. Until there is a new word for us, and then we will also be that.

Sometimes I wonder what my old, past self would think if he could see the future and you beside me. I know it would be hateful... But there is a part of me that thinks, even then, I would be awed by you.

I at least remember finding you handsome in that first battle. It wasn't the main thought on my mind but it was there.

I think maybe he would only be a little jealous and maybe lonely. Everyone deserves love, even your old self.

You thought me handsome? Even with hate in my eyes and that awful beard on my face? I thought you like an angel. Filled with grace and fury and so attractive.

Even with that terrible beard. It made you stand out.

And I find it hard to believe I could look so angelic splattered with blood. And yet, I would never doubt you.

Astounding that it still took us so long to stop killing each other and so long on top of that to start loving each other.

Priests were not asked to be very fashionable. I think it had more patches than my tunic did by the end.

You are forgetting my angels could be vicious heralds of war, my love. You were an angel.

It may have taken long to love, but it was not long at all before I felt the lust.

Your angels. No wonder we were destined to be.

And the lust. That makes sense.

Still, I have to wonder why I was the one to make the first move, then? Shy, habibi?

I love it when you talk about destiny with me.

I was a priest and you were an incredible smart, handsome merchant who I killed, many times. I was still working up the courage and learning your language, I think I should be excused for not lying on top of you and kissing you immediately.

Excused, certainly. But I expect to be adequately compensated.

Although, the look on your face when I finally kissed you was priceless. I think you might have had a heart attack.

Good thing we are immortal.

And how many kisses will I owe you in compensation?

I was shocked that my dreams could come true and the man of my dreams could somehow be kissing me. Maybe I even did have a little shocked heart attack, which is why I'm glad you kissed me a second time.

The first couldn't have been very good.

It was incredible. I don't know why you would think otherwise.

There you were, looking so gorgeous in the candlelight. And then looking as though someone had just stabbed you when I leaned in for a kiss.

And I would know that particular expression.

Maybe because it was the first time I've ever kissed a man.

Nearly the first kiss with anyone. I was a priest, my love, remember?

It was the reason for my shock, but I hope I recovered enough to show you how much I wanted it.

I was sure you were about to punch me. Or stab me again. But then you just pulled me in and that next kiss was a symphony.

Next, I believe, we handled that pesky vow of chastity plaguing you.

I thought about punching you. Only because instinct kicked in when you got so close and I thought I should kill you again despite the rest of my brain and body and heart screaming at me to do otherwise.

Ah, yes. That vow of chastity was a revelation to get beyond. How many times did I blaspheme, do you remember? I remember feeling embarrassed.

You blushed like a true virgin on their wedding night, my darling. Red as a pomegranate.

I kept telling you how beautiful you were. How much I cared for you. How incredible your voice sounded as you cried out your pleasure.

I think it embarrassed you worse.

I used to think my beard covered the worst of the redness, but as you've just confirmed, it did nothing.

Yusuf. I think I blushed so deeply and felt so embarrassed because I was not sure I believed you. How many times did I have my longsword buried in your chest? And yet, you professed my beauty and brought me such sweet ecstasy.

I think maybe I should have returned to Genoa, if only to preach about you.

I thought you'd go for a far more apt euphemism with burying longswords, amore mio.

You were beautiful. That night and every night.

I couldn't believe you allowed me to touch you. Carved marble straight from the hands of masters. And here I was, allowed to caress every inch of it. We would have been rival preachers.

That part came later, once I felt I had my confidence about me.

You are still every bit the poet that I fell in love with, and I am in awe of it, habibi. Do you remember the morning after, when I woke in your arms for the first time? In the light of day, you were the handsomest thing I had ever seen.

I think I was at my reddest then.

I remember.

I remember feeling your fingertips on my face. That smile you had as I woke up and saw you still right there beside me. No regret. No disgust. Just that blushing virgin I educated still blushing away.

The next time we made love, you definitely started to get the hang of it.

I was in a daze. I thought I was still dreaming, because it was too perfect. I was with the most incredible man I had ever met and he had given me orgasms the likes of which I think no man has experienced.

I'm glad to hear my honour is intact. I'm a very fast learner, you know.

You know, a thousand years later, you still make me blush.

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We need more threads. I love your Nicky

(and I love your joe! I'm always down for more, or legit scenes)

(On any memes?)

(sadly none recently, it was a wild crazy week, but I'm open to pop nicky anywhere!)

(I have a prompt I dropped for someone else that hasn't bitten yet. Alt first kiss from this?)

(always up for that! feel free to msg with a link and any ideas!)

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