Adult-FanFiction.org : Movies

He's all and he is more.	By : DarklingWillow Category: M through R > The Old Guard Views: 776 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own The Old Guard movie (or comics), and I do not make any profit from this writing.

Chapter List
- 11
- 12
- 13
Chapter 11.

            A cold hand slid under Yusuf’s tunic, and he hissed as he woke with a start.
            “Why do you do that?” he growled and reached under his thick blanket to grab that invading hand. Nicolò chuckled into his ear.
            “Because you are warm, and my bedding is cold and lonely, and I have missed you,” Nicolò answered with a purr in his voice that made Yusuf chuckle.
            “You have missed me?” Yusuf asked and tried to turn around to face his companion, but Nicolò pressed his chest against Yusuf’s back and held him still.
            “I have. The nights are cold and lonely without you,” Nicolò purred, and nuzzled the back of Yusuf’s neck.
            “Oh, I’m sure that Kian makes them less lonely,” Yusuf teased, only for Nicolò to find his nipple with deadly accuracy and pinch him hard.
            “I do not share my tent, or anything else, except for my watch fire and my waterskin with Kian,” Nicolò growled and pinched Yusuf’s nipple again.
            “I surrender, I surrender,” Yusuf cried out with a laugh and grabbed Nicolò’s hand through his tunic. “You do not share anything with Kian,” he said and turned his head to look over his shoulder. “Your hands are still freezing, and I am awake.”
            “That’s what I was hoping for,” Nicolò answered in his ever-improving Arabic and leaned down to kiss Yusuf with passion. “I have missed you. And I want to feel you tonight.”
            Yusuf moaned softly as he felt the hard length of Nicolò against his backside, pressing between his cheeks.

            They had made it to Baghdad without incident, and once they had been paid for their service with the Arabic trader caravan, they had decided to continue East. The leader of their caravan had introduced them to the leader of another caravan, heading East from Baghdad to Herat, and he had hired them right away.
            They were now halfway to Herat along the Khorasan Road, and they had made many friends among the caravan people, most of them members of the security detail. And not a single person had ever made any comment on the fact that Nicolò and Yusuf shared their little tent at night.
            What people had commented on instead, was the fact that Nicolò’s camel had taken a horrible dislike to Yusuf and would constantly cause him trouble. If the animal was not trying to bite him or spit on him, it would obstinately refuse to do anything he tried to demand of it or do exactly the opposite of what he wanted. It had become a source of great laughter among the caravaners and whenever Yusuf tried to deal with Nicolò’s camel when they stopped to camp people would gather around and watch with great merriment.
            Nicolò had promised Yusuf that at the earliest opportunity they would sell the camel and get a horse for Nicolò. Until then, unfortunately, Yusuf would have to deal with this unexpected competition for Nicolò’s affections.

            They had also used the months together to teach each other their languages, and Yusuf had told Nicolò about his parents and his siblings, but they both avoided the subject of Yusuf’s wife and children. They both felt that it was too near, still, and Yusuf knew that it did give Nicolò a feeling of guilt when he recalled that Yusuf was still married.
            Nicolò had told Yusuf a great deal about his parents and siblings back home in Genova, but he had so far not been willing to discuss why he had come to fight in the Holy War.

            “Let me turn around, if you want me,” Yusuf purred, and reached under his blankets to undo the waistband of his trousers.
            “I want you like this,” Nicolò answered with a soft growl and wriggled around behind Yusuf, obviously undoing his own trousers.
            Yusuf felt his heart jump into his throat and his cock grew hard in an instant.

            Did Nicolò mean what Yusuf thought he meant?
            Had he finally decided to take their relationship a step further?
            Yusuf could not speak for a moment, but instead he reached down with both hands and pulled his trousers down over his hips, exposing his backside.

            “Yusuf,” Nicolò moaned in his ear as he pressed forward, and his thick length pressed between Yusuf’s bare cheeks.
            Yusuf turned his head to bite his pillow, so he would not cry out, then he moaned softly.
            “Nicolò,” he whispered, and pushed his hips back to feel more of Nicolò, all his desire in the name.
            Nicolò said nothing, but his hand wrapped around Yusuf’s cock and stroked firmly.
            “I’ve missed you,” he whispered again, and kissed Yusuf’s neck, nibbled hard at the tender skin under Yusuf’s ear.
            “I have missed you too,” Yusuf whispered back and bit back a moan as Nicolò pressed against his backside, sliding between his cheeks with the same pace as Nicolò’s hand around his cock.

            Yusuf managed to hide his disappointment when Nicolò did not press for more than their usual acts of pleasure and focused his mind on enjoying the feeling of Nicolò’s hand around him, and the throb of Nicolò’s cock between his cheeks.
            As their breath began to grow rapid, Yusuf turned his head again and whispered,
            “Nicolò, I want to kiss you. Let me turn around.”
            Nicolò nodded against Yusuf’s shoulder and moved back just enough for Yusuf to turn around to face him. Their lips met in a heated kiss, tongues tasting the other, and Yusuf reached down to wrap his hand around Nicolò’s length, matching Nicolò’s strokes. Their moans were swallowed by their kisses, and Yusuf felt himself grow more aroused when Nicolò began to shiver under his touch, like he always did when he was getting close to orgasm.
            Yusuf pushed his arm under Nicolò’s head and pulled him close, deepened their kiss and his strokes became a little firmer.

            “Yusuf,” Nicolò moaned between his lips and Yusuf nodded eagerly.
            “Yes, come for me,” he whispered, feeling that ball of warmth growing in the pit of his abdomen, radiating outwards as Nicolò’s hand moved more erratically around him.
            Nicolò pressed in for a deeper kiss, his moans becoming breathless, and then he let go and fell into Yusuf’s embrace, his seed thick as it spilled into the inside of his tunic and their shared blanket.
            Yusuf moaned with him, thrilled by the feeling of the hot seed over his hand, and he milked ever drop from Nicolò before he let go and wrapped his hand around Nicolò’s hand, and guided him until Yusuf spilled himself into their blanket as well.

            Yusuf hated to admit it, but it did not feel as good as it had felt at the start. No matter how much he loved Nicolò, for that is what he felt for Nicolò now; this was love, not mere affection or attraction. It had started to feel somewhat hollow to only be allowed to enjoy Nicolò in this manner. Not that it was not enjoyable, for it certainly was. Yusuf just desired more. He wanted to feel all of Nicolò against him, wanted to feel his naked body in his arms, wanted to feel him around him, or in him, he wasn’t really particular to which.
Nicolò had reacted badly to the first time when Yusuf had touched him in a manner that suggested any such penetration, and then refused to talk about it, so Yusuf had not tried it again.

It had been almost three months now, since then. Yusuf still felt a little guilty whenever he recalled the look on Nicolò’s face when he had pulled away with a gasp of fear when Yusuf had touched him there. It had been a look of betrayal. That was the only way to describe it. Fear and betrayal.
They had not touched each other for weeks after that, only lain together under the blankets, Nicolò’s back to Yusuf’s chest and Yusuf’s arm tight around Nicolò’s chest, their hands grasping each other as they slept. And Nicolò had made it clear that he did not want to discuss their sex life, at all. Nor why he had reacted that way to being touched.

Yusuf reached for the small cloth they kept under his pillow and wiped his hand clean, then reached under the blanket to clean Nicolò’s hand and what had not spilled into their clothes or blanket.
Nicolò lay still while Yusuf cleaned him, his eyes lowered, and his cheeks flushed with his spent pleasure.

“Ti amo,” Nicolò whispered softly, his hand reached up to stroke Yusuf’s cheek. Yusuf paused and looked at Nicolò’s face, the soft lines of his lips, the scant, caramel-coloured beard that he had grown on their journey, and the long lashes that framed his eyes.
“Ana uhibbuka,” Yusuf whispered back, and kissed Nicolò on the lips. “Are you alright?” he added and gently pushed at Nicolò’s chin to make him look up at Yusuf.
“I’m alright,” Nicolò answered, but he still lifted his gaze to reveal small tears pearling in his lashes.
Yusuf pulled him even closer and kissed him again, then looked into his eyes.
“You have tears in your eyes, so that’s a strange alright,” Yusuf said, wiping the tears from Nicolò’s lashes. “Want to tell me what is wrong?”
Nicolò shook his head, and sighed, and tried to lower his head again, but Yusuf pressed under his chin to stop him from looking away. Nicolò blinked his eyes, tried to find another place to focus his eyes, but then gave up and looked into Yusuf’s eyes.
“I want more,” he whispered, his cheeks flushing with shyness.
“You want to go again?” Yusuf asked, shocked, unsure whether he could fulfil such a request, and yet felt his cock stir at the very thought of it.
“No,” Nicolò answered hurriedly, then sighed. “I want to… I want to give you more of myself, but I don’t know how.”
Yusuf blinked in the dimness of their tent, the implication of Nicolò’s words making his heart race, and he smiled.
“There is no rush, Nicolò,” Yusuf assured his love, and stroked Nicolò’s cheek. “When you feel ready for that, then we can do that. You made it clear that you are not ready for that when I tried to push for that.”
“I’m afraid,” Nicolò whispered, and lowered his eyes so he would not have to look Yusuf in the eyes. “I don’t know what I am doing, I don’t know how to do that. There is so much that I do not know.”
Yusuf thought about those words for a moment, his hand stroking Nicolò’s cheek.

Could it really be?

“Nicolò? Are you a virgin?” Yusuf asked quietly and moved his head closer to look into Nicolò’s eyes.
Nicolò ducked his head even more but then he moved his head in a nod in the affirmative, and Yusuf could feel the heat of Nicolò’s flushing cheeks under his fingertips.
Yusuf’s heart raced in his chest, and he felt almost foolish.

Of course Nicolò was a virgin. Of course he had never felt the touch of a woman, or a man. He had been a squire for five years and then had become a priest, ordained at barely twenty. And the Catholic faith said that its priests should be celibate, according to what Nicolò had told Yusuf. And Nicolò was firm in his faith. Where Yusuf had lost much of his faith, Nicolò’s faith had been strengthened, and he still prayed daily in the privacy of their tent, away from the eyes of the Muslims in their caravan.

“Allah, be merciful,” Yusuf whispered and pressed a kiss to Nicolò’s forehead. He pulled his love closer and held him tight, stroking his hair for a few moments while he gathered his thoughts.
  “I will admit, I want to be with you too,” he whispered and pressed a kiss to Nicolò’s hair. “I have only been with my wife. I never touched another woman. And the last night before we joined the main army, I shared my bed with a young man. That was the only time I shared my bed with a man, before I met you. But in that one night, that man taught me things that I had dreamt of all my life. It was a night of wonder. And the following day was the most painful march I have ever experienced.” Yusuf chuckled softly and Nicolò looked up with a questioning look.
            “You’ll understand, when you’re ready,” Yusuf answered the silent question, and stroked Nicolò’s cheek. “But all I can say is this, Nicolò. I am ready whenever you feel ready to do that. I will teach you, so do not be shy to ask. Just be sure that you are ready. Because that look you gave me three months ago, it pierced my heart deeper than any spear ever could. I felt as if I had violated you in some way, broken your trust in me with that single touch.”
            Nicolò nodded his head slowly, his eyes filling with sadness.

            “He was someone I trusted,” Nicolò whispered, his voice catching in his throat for a moment. Yusuf could feel Nicolò’s heart begin to race, and the pulse made his voice quiver as he began speaking, but he kept his eyes on Yusuf’s eyes.
            “I befriended a man, who was a cardinal. He had come to Genova to visit the local cathedral and my bishop introduced us, and this cardinal immediately saw something in me that made him befriend me. He invited me to come to Rome, to meet the Pope. It was a great honour and of course I accepted. I travelled to Rome, and there I met several other priests from other regions, and a few who were ordained in Rome itself. And a few young deacons. Deacons are men in training to become priests, but not yet ordained.” Nicolò stopped to catch his breath, and Yusuf stroked his back firmly, wanting him to go on.

            “We became close very quickly, and he treated me like a mentor. Like someone he looked up to and wanted to emulate. And then I became aware that his affections were more than just that. That he desired more from me, or at the very least, he seemed willing to offer me what I desired. One night, near the end of my visit, the cardinal told me that he had plans for me. Great plans within the church. That he had the Pope’s ear, and that he would make sure that I would be well provided for and would be of great use to the church. The deacon heard about this and invited me to share wine with him to celebrate. I became intoxicated, and then suddenly we were in his bed together.” Nicolò stopped and Yusuf had to draw a deep breath to keep himself calm.

            Yusuf wrapped his arms around Nicolò and pulled him close, dreading what the ending to the story would be, but in his heart he suspected. And he felt full of anger, for his Nicolò. He felt furious, that anyone would cause his Nicolò such pain and despair.
            “You don’t need to tell me, my love,” Yusuf whispered and kissed Nicolò’s forehead again. “Just tell me what you feel strong enough to tell.”
            Nicolò’s arm wrapped around Yusuf’s side and Nicolò buried his face under Yusuf’s cheek, his voice trembling still.

            “He did not penetrate me, and I could not do it to him either, but he did pleasure me with his mouth. And I did try to do the same for him, but I had become too intoxicated. And he pleasured me in many ways with his hands. After he had pleasured me a few times, and my head had stopped swimming, he got out of the bed, and informed me…” Nicolò paused to draw a deep breath, but then rage entered his tone, and his arm tightened around Yusuf’s back.
“He told me that the cardinal was his uncle. And that he had a way of proving what we had just done, and that all he would need to do, was to inform his uncle that I had gotten him drunk and seduced him. And then my life would be ruined. I would be cast out, stripped of my orders, ostracised from the church, and possibly thrown in prison for my crime. He would make up whatever lies he needed to fit his plan. And not just me, Yusuf. My family would suffer too. For my crime they would lose their standing, their business, my father would be ostracised from society, and my brother would lose his status as well. Even my sister and her husband could be affected. He would ruin me, and my whole family. I begged him not to, told him I would do whatever he wanted, and he told me to leave Rome, and cut off all contact with his uncle. To tell his uncle that I did not want any of his favour, or his support. If I did not, he would make sure that I would be ruined, along with my whole family. I went to the cardinal the next day and told him I would be returning to Genova at the first opportunity and that I would not want his support or favour, and that I would like the Pope to forget my name. And I did. I was getting ready to go back to Genova, but then I found that my father had travelled to Rome to visit me and to meet the cardinal. And when I met my father in Rome, in my despair I announced to him and the cardinal that I had signed up to go fight in the Holy War. That I had heard that the crossbowmen were heading to the Holy Land, and that I had gone and announced that I would be joining their ranks. My father was proud, but seemed unconvinced of my decision, and the cardinal pressed me to know why I had so abruptly changed my mind. I never told them the truth.”

Yusuf held Nicolò tightly and stroked his back. The crime had been a little less severe than he had imagined, but severe, nonetheless. Yusuf knew that being ostracised from one’s religion could be devastating, because it most often meant that the community would turn its back on the person as well. If the religious leaders said that someone was unworthy, the rest of the community would not risk their own chance at entering Paradise by helping that person. He could only imagine that it was much the same for Nicolò and his people.

“I cannot imagine how much that must have hurt,” he whispered and turned his head to press a kiss to Nicolò’s cheek. Then he loosened his hold of Nicolò enough to lay back and look Nicolò in the eyes.
“I cannot tell you that you can trust me. You need to know that for yourself, in your heart. But I can tell you that I would never betray you in such a way. You are dear to me, and my place is to be beside you for as long as you want me to. I would rather kill myself, than cause you such pain. I would die for you, Nicolò, and I will always put you first. And I will be here, whenever you are ready to take our relations that far. And if you do not know what to do, you can ask me. You can ask me to show you, and I will. I will tell you what to do, and how to do it, but I will always let you be in charge. It is yours to give, and I will wait, until you are willing and ready to give it,” he said and smiled a little at Nicolò, hoping that Nicolò could see the depth of his love and his commitment in his eyes.
“I love you, Nicolò,” he said in Latin, and Nicolò’s cheeks flushed a little as he smiled.
“I love you, Yusuf,” Nicolò whispered back and pressed in for a soft kiss, his teeth tugging lightly on Yusuf’s lower lip. “And I do trust you. I trust you with my life,” he added as he rested his forehead against Yusuf’s forehead, his eyes closed.
“I trust you with my life,” Yusuf said and stroked Nicolò’s cheek again, then pulled him close again. “Now, let’s sleep, my love, because you are tired, and I have to wake before the dawn for my watch. Sleep well.”
Yusuf smiled as Nicolò wished him good sleep as well, and then snuggled close to Yusuf and fell asleep within moments.

He had wondered, all these months that they had been together, whether Nicolò’s reluctance to be intimate with him was only because of his religion. Now he knew the truth. Nicolò had been betrayed in the worst way possible. Even though he had not been physically violated against his will, his trust had been violated, had been shattered, by someone that he had thought a friend, a confidant. And that was the worst kind of betrayal. Yusuf swore to himself in that moment, that he would do everything in his power to never cause Nicolò such pain. For as long as he would have breath in his body, for as long as Allah saw fit to send him back from death, he would be devoted to his Nicolò.
- 11
- 12
- 13
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

He's all and he is more.