[ nicky has always been slow to speak, quick to act, but joe doesn't interrupt — he hates when other people interrupt, interpreting pauses for the end of thoughts and leaping to add their own. it isn't patience on joe's part that stills his tongue until nicky is finished it is the simple fact that he wants to know what nicky is thinking more than anything. ]
Andy wants to help him but I... [ he licks his lips, clutching nicky's hand like a lifeline. ] Nicolò, I can't.
[ his eyes are pleading, desperate for nicky to tell him that he isn't a bad person for not being able to move past what happened immediately.
maybe it would be different if they weren't tortured. maybe it would be different if nicky weren't tortured. but joe had watched him die over and over, watched that doctor carve pieces of him away with unrestrained fascination while joe bit his tongue to keep from begging for her to stop. he'd watched the blood pooling around nicky's head like a macabre halo, still for so long that joe could feel the scream clawing up his throat.
maybe it would be different if their love hadn't been made a justification for booker's betrayal. ]
No. I don't think I can, either. [ it is as he said to booker: booker has lost his trust.
joe clutches at his hand and pleads for understanding and forgiveness of an imagined crime and nicky wants nothing more than to take all that pain from joe and make it disappear, to bring him peace, any measure of peace, even if nicky is not feeling particularly peaceful himself right now.
later, he will reason that it is that desire that sparked this. later, he will understand that it is his power. right now, there is only a wash of calm, inexplicable but welcome, that washes over him, over joe. ]
[ it is lonely feeling like the only person affected this way but of course nicky would be in the same boat. of course nicky.
the feeling of calm washes over him like he is given permission to have these feelings, comforting and warm. andy had said that exactly, but nicky has always been able to cut down joe's defenses and get to the heart of the matter. he doesn't have to change himself or feel less. ]
I am sorry I punched him, [ joe admits after a moment. ] It was bad form, my hand still hurts in the mornings.
[ they are allowed their feelings; it is what action follows from them that matters. nicky has known this for centuries now, but knowledge does not always translate into emotion. ]
He deserved it. [ nicky shrugs a little, turning his head to look at joe, to take in every beloved curve of his face, the warmth of his eyes. ]
I did not punch him, even though he offered. I think it would have been better if I could have. [ if punching could have alleviated some of the anger, some of the hurt in his chest, let out some of the emotion he feels. felt; he is calmer now. not removed from his feelings, but able to take a step back.
after a pause during which he rubs his thumb over joe's knuckles: ]
It will take some getting used to the vulnerability. For all of us, now.
You would not have felt better, [ joe thinks. the solace of violence was fleeting and left nothing but a cold ache and raw, exposed emotions. he wouldn't change what he did, but he would prefer nicky not feel any more pain at booker's feet.
an impossible hope and yet one joe has all the same. ]
There are some good things to mortality.
[ they are together for one and joe has always wished that when their time did come it wouldn't be in the heat of battle but in something much more mundane, so they would have more time. to linger, to discover, to finally grow old together. it doesn't feel like their time now, this feels inauthentic, but nicky is still with him and they still have time.
he lifts their clasped hands, rubbing his beard across the back of nicky's pale hand and watching the pinkness bloom. it doesn't immediately fade away and joe's eyes sparkle. ]
No. I don't think I would have. [ nicky is silent for a moment. ] If I had thought that it would help, I would have punched him.
[ he is not a pacifist as such.
but those thoughts are blown away, eradicated from his mind when joe lifts their hands, rubbing his beard across the back of nicky's hand and leaving some hint of a mark, a hint of beard burn, his eyes sparkling.
they have been together for nearly a millenium. they have tried so many things and joe is so familiar to him and yet, yet even just the sparkle in his eyes and the suggestion of marking him have nicky's stomach swooping, some blood rushing south.
[ joe seems to explode with a laugh, the buoyant sound loud and clear and utterly delighted. he grins at nicky, happiness burning away the lingering grief for the moment. ]
Willing to be persuaded!
[ undeterred – in fact very willing and happy to persuade – joe ducks toward nicky, hand curving around the back of his neck to pull him forward to crash their mouths together. this is a much better use of their time than being angry and there is nothing joe loves more than kissing nicky, a taste more familiar to him than the feel of his own breathing.
willing to be persuaded... he loves this man so much. ]
[ joe explodes into laughter, joyous and delighted, and nicky's heart swells in his chest. joe's happiness will always, always trigger nicky's own and so by the time joe leans in, hand on his neck to pull him closer like nicky is not already swaying toward him, nicky is smiling. it makes the kiss a little awkward at first, but he does not mind that —and the smile gives way to parting his lips to let joe lick into his mouth soon enough, instinctive and easy.
[ joe is more than happy to chase the taste of nicky, sighing as his tongue finds the warmth of his mouth, mind going blissfully blank to anything past his nicolò.
a park bench is probably not the best place for this but joe makes no move to stop. instead he releases nicky's hand only to press his hand against the back of nicky's thigh and haul him directly onto joe's lap. it is a little sloppy, lacking the finesse of years past, and is punctuated by another laugh, softer this time, when nicky's thighs settle on either side of his own. ]
My heart.
[ that is all, that is it.
nothing more to add before joe's hands lift to cradle nicky's face and kiss him once more, breathing him in like he is the oxygen joe needs to survive. ]
[ a park bench is not the best place for this, but it is also far from the worst. joe pulls him into his lap and nicky moves willingly, lets himself be moved, letting the kiss drown out a noise that is halfway between amusement and arousal. like this, it is easy to curl his arms around joe's neck, to lean in and kiss joe again and then again until he becomes hyperaware of sensitivity around his mouth, on his chin, where joe's beard meets his skin. ]
Mh. [ that is confirmation as much as it is simply a hum of pleasure. ]
Rohi, [ he says in arabic, my soul, and means the same thing with it joe does. ]
[ joe draws back the tiniest bit, thumb brushing across the pale redness touching nicky's skin. it is fascinating, the way it doesn't immediately fade back to the moonlight-golden skin he is so enamored with, and joe presses a very gentle kiss to the corner of nicky's mouth.
it it were less heated, if it didn't start joe kissing down his neck, that tiny kiss would feel like an apology for the inevitable beard burn. ]
Blue is your color but you do look lovely in pink.
[ perhaps that kiss is or could be an apology for the inevitable beard burn —but nicky does not want one. he wants this, wants the physical reminder and proof of joe's touch and proximity, an x on the map that is his body: joe was here. (and here, and here, and here.)
he wants that and so he tips his head back and to the side, baring himself to joe, fingers digging into joe's shoulders. ]
[ warm kisses hopefully sooth the friction of his beard as joe leisurely reacquaints himself with the taste of nicky's skin under his tongue. after a millennia, one would think he'd have had his fill of nicky but he never grows tired of the familiar scent and taste. he wonders sometimes if they are reborn with virgin skin, what else could explain the shiver of excitement every time this man touches him.
he mouths along the curve of nicky's throat, a gentle bite as he worries the skin between his teeth, soothing over it immediately with his tongue. the worry that he could hurt nicky is non-existent, even now, but it is habit all the same.
drawing back slightly, his fingers brush over the spot with idle wonder. it would have faded by now, instead the red mark remains and for the first time in forever, nicolò bears the mark of joe's love for all to see. ]
[ nicky cannot see his own neck, cannot see the mark that joe leaves there —but the look of wonder and the tone of joe's voice tells him all that he needs to know, all the same, fanning the flame that always burns within him. ]
I am going to get carried away, [ joe admits, muffled from the way he buries his face against nicky's neck again, fingers tightening against nicky's thighs. maybe won't get carried away with hickies, but the idea of a lasting mark as proof of their love is ...heady. he always feels drunk on nicky but this is a new kind of intoxicating. ]
We should move before I get us arrested for public indecency.
[ a laugh huffed against nicky's neck, breath warm. ] Again.
[ for a moment, nicky thinks of disregarding that remark, of rolling his hips against joe's and tempting joe into getting carried away. they have been arrested for public indecency before and there is a chance they will be again; it would not be so bad so long as they are together.
but perhaps not right at the start of their time here. perhaps he would prefer to have joe leave marks all over his body, to spread joe out on a bed and do the same.
he clears his throat. ]
Let's go.
[ and still, he leans in for one more kiss before scrambling from joe's lap. ]
[ nicky moves away, because one of them has a sliver of self-control, and joe feels bereft at the loss of the warmth and weight of nicky in his lap. for a moment he look utterly bemused as if he doesn't know what to do with himself, hands fluttering idly before they settle on his own thighs and he pushes himself off the bench.
he puffs out a breath, stooping to grab the football before the haze of desire completely overtakes his mind. ]
[ joe takes the football and nicky takes joe's hand, intertwining their fingers because he may have the self-control to move away and get them behind a closed door, yes, but he cannot bear not touching yusuf right now.
part of it is desire. part of it is the upheaval of the past few days, still.
either way, he is determined to get them toward privacy quickly. ]
[ joe manages not to get obscenely handsy on their walk home if only because both of his hands and occupied and despite the dream he had once of being an octopus, he does only have two hands. he also has the self-control not to run home, but that is a close thing. they are most assuredly speed walking.
the door hasn't even clicked shut behind them before the ball is dropped, skittering across the floor, and he has crowded into nicky's space, now free hand going immediately to nicky's ass to draw him even closer still. ]
[ the door clicks shut behind them and the ball drops to the floor, joe crowding into his space and nicky would respond, could say something— or he could kiss joe. it is no choice at all. their mouths fit together like they are made for one another and nicky has often considered that they are, they must be. one soul in two bodies, one being made two.
joe's hands find his ass, drawing him close and nicky presses into joe's body until there is hardly any space between them. it isn't always like this, urgent and desperate, but sometimes, right now, god, he needs — ]
Bed.
[ it isn't that he wouldn't be glad to do it right here, but they share this space and nile at least wouldn't appreciate coming home to nicky's bare ass, he supposes. and he wants, more than anything, for joe to spread him out and mark him up, rub his beard everywhere. wants, too, to bite at joe's collarbone and leave a mark there, and over his heart, and -
[ nicky's ass is a thing to behold and anyone would be lucky to catch a glimpse of it, so nile is also lucky that nicky is to thoughtful because joe wouldn't have moved.
immediately though his mind drifts to what they could do in bed and there are no complaints. instead, he settles his hands more firmly on nicky's ass and hauls him up with an aborted grunt of effort, coaxing nicky's legs around his waist. it's ridiculous, to carry nicky to bed, adjusting his grip so he won't drop the love of his life unceremoniously on the floor, but joe is a little ridiculous when it comes to nicky. the weight of nicky is familiar against him and his steps don't falter, taking nicky to the bedroom as requested. ]
[ joe lifts him and nicky huffs out a laugh, not quite surprised because he can read joe better than anyone, but fond, always so utterly fond. his husband is a ridiculous man and nicky adores him completely and utterly. so he wraps his legs around joe's waist even though he could very well walk, even though it would likely be faster if he did. this way, at least, he can nose at joe's cheek, press a kiss to the corner of his mouth and feel joe's beard against his skin again, the reminder of their discovery sending a thrill down nicky's spine. ]
Si, [ he mutters, too late. (joe will not hold it against him that he got distracted by him.) ]
[ it does take longer than had he let nicky walk on his own steam but joe has no regrets with nicky pressing kisses to his skin. he manages to get them into their bedroom without dropping nicky or knocking him into any walls or doorways and that's nice.
he almost manages to set nicky down on the bed without tipping over, but alas, he drops his husband on the mattress and just barely keeps himself from falling right on top of him by bracing his arm next to nicky's head. he laughs at his own expense, mirth softening as he gazes down at nicky. ]
[ joe barely controls the downward movement of their bodies, nicky bouncing a little off the mattress and joe barely catching himself and then there's laughter and so much warmth, love in joe's gaze and nicky feels his heart swell and spill over, unable to contain what he feels for this man, this beautiful, flawed, perfect person, the other half of his soul. ]
Joe, [ it's audible in his tone, he knows, the helpless wonder and joy and utter love, the need. even if it wasn't, joe can read him like an open book, has long been able to.
that, and the way nicky grasps at joe's shoulders and pulls him in, the way one leg wraps around joe's hip, the lift of his shoulders off the bed to reach joe's lips, these things are obvious signs of what he wants: joe closer, more. ]
[ their connection was hard won all those years ago and every time he finds himself in nicky's arms he is struck again by how right it feels, how intimate if feels simply to be in nicky's space.
he shifts them around, settling more in the center of the bed, without breaking the kisses. he only draws back when he's breathless and even then his lips move to the long line of nicky's neck. ]
I know, babe.
[ he is determined to take care of nicky, to take him apart, but there are some logistics to take care of first, namely that they're still dressed. support shifting to one hand pressed into the mattress, the other pushes nicky's shirt up. they'll had to move to get it off fully, but joe doesn't pause, immediately dipping his head to press warm, open-mouthed kisses across his chest, the rasp of his beard leaving more pink skin behind. ]
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Andy wants to help him but I... [ he licks his lips, clutching nicky's hand like a lifeline. ] Nicolò, I can't.
[ his eyes are pleading, desperate for nicky to tell him that he isn't a bad person for not being able to move past what happened immediately.
maybe it would be different if they weren't tortured. maybe it would be different if nicky weren't tortured. but joe had watched him die over and over, watched that doctor carve pieces of him away with unrestrained fascination while joe bit his tongue to keep from begging for her to stop. he'd watched the blood pooling around nicky's head like a macabre halo, still for so long that joe could feel the scream clawing up his throat.
maybe it would be different if their love hadn't been made a justification for booker's betrayal. ]
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joe clutches at his hand and pleads for understanding and forgiveness of an imagined crime and nicky wants nothing more than to take all that pain from joe and make it disappear, to bring him peace, any measure of peace, even if nicky is not feeling particularly peaceful himself right now.
later, he will reason that it is that desire that sparked this. later, he will understand that it is his power. right now, there is only a wash of calm, inexplicable but welcome, that washes over him, over joe. ]
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the feeling of calm washes over him like he is given permission to have these feelings, comforting and warm. andy had said that exactly, but nicky has always been able to cut down joe's defenses and get to the heart of the matter. he doesn't have to change himself or feel less. ]
I am sorry I punched him, [ joe admits after a moment. ] It was bad form, my hand still hurts in the mornings.
[ calm but make it cheeky. ]
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He deserved it. [ nicky shrugs a little, turning his head to look at joe, to take in every beloved curve of his face, the warmth of his eyes. ]
I did not punch him, even though he offered. I think it would have been better if I could have. [ if punching could have alleviated some of the anger, some of the hurt in his chest, let out some of the emotion he feels. felt; he is calmer now. not removed from his feelings, but able to take a step back.
after a pause during which he rubs his thumb over joe's knuckles: ]
It will take some getting used to the vulnerability. For all of us, now.
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an impossible hope and yet one joe has all the same. ]
There are some good things to mortality.
[ they are together for one and joe has always wished that when their time did come it wouldn't be in the heat of battle but in something much more mundane, so they would have more time. to linger, to discover, to finally grow old together. it doesn't feel like their time now, this feels inauthentic, but nicky is still with him and they still have time.
he lifts their clasped hands, rubbing his beard across the back of nicky's pale hand and watching the pinkness bloom. it doesn't immediately fade away and joe's eyes sparkle. ]
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[ he is not a pacifist as such.
but those thoughts are blown away, eradicated from his mind when joe lifts their hands, rubbing his beard across the back of nicky's hand and leaving some hint of a mark, a hint of beard burn, his eyes sparkling.
they have been together for nearly a millenium. they have tried so many things and joe is so familiar to him and yet, yet even just the sparkle in his eyes and the suggestion of marking him have nicky's stomach swooping, some blood rushing south.
he swallows, mouth suddenly dry. ]
Perhaps. I am willing to be persuaded.
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Willing to be persuaded!
[ undeterred – in fact very willing and happy to persuade – joe ducks toward nicky, hand curving around the back of his neck to pull him forward to crash their mouths together. this is a much better use of their time than being angry and there is nothing joe loves more than kissing nicky, a taste more familiar to him than the feel of his own breathing.
willing to be persuaded... he loves this man so much. ]
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he is very willing to be persuaded. ]
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a park bench is probably not the best place for this but joe makes no move to stop. instead he releases nicky's hand only to press his hand against the back of nicky's thigh and haul him directly onto joe's lap. it is a little sloppy, lacking the finesse of years past, and is punctuated by another laugh, softer this time, when nicky's thighs settle on either side of his own. ]
My heart.
[ that is all, that is it.
nothing more to add before joe's hands lift to cradle nicky's face and kiss him once more, breathing him in like he is the oxygen joe needs to survive. ]
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Mh. [ that is confirmation as much as it is simply a hum of pleasure. ]
Rohi, [ he says in arabic, my soul, and means the same thing with it joe does. ]
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it it were less heated, if it didn't start joe kissing down his neck, that tiny kiss would feel like an apology for the inevitable beard burn. ]
Blue is your color but you do look lovely in pink.
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he wants that and so he tips his head back and to the side, baring himself to joe, fingers digging into joe's shoulders. ]
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he mouths along the curve of nicky's throat, a gentle bite as he worries the skin between his teeth, soothing over it immediately with his tongue. the worry that he could hurt nicky is non-existent, even now, but it is habit all the same.
drawing back slightly, his fingers brush over the spot with idle wonder. it would have faded by now, instead the red mark remains and for the first time in forever, nicolò bears the mark of joe's love for all to see. ]
Il mio.
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Always.
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We should move before I get us arrested for public indecency.
[ a laugh huffed against nicky's neck, breath warm. ] Again.
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but perhaps not right at the start of their time here. perhaps he would prefer to have joe leave marks all over his body, to spread joe out on a bed and do the same.
he clears his throat. ]
Let's go.
[ and still, he leans in for one more kiss before scrambling from joe's lap. ]
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he puffs out a breath, stooping to grab the football before the haze of desire completely overtakes his mind. ]
Right. Lead the way, my heart.
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part of it is desire. part of it is the upheaval of the past few days, still.
either way, he is determined to get them toward privacy quickly. ]
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the door hasn't even clicked shut behind them before the ball is dropped, skittering across the floor, and he has crowded into nicky's space, now free hand going immediately to nicky's ass to draw him even closer still. ]
Fuck, Nicky.
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joe's hands find his ass, drawing him close and nicky presses into joe's body until there is hardly any space between them. it isn't always like this, urgent and desperate, but sometimes, right now, god, he needs — ]
Bed.
[ it isn't that he wouldn't be glad to do it right here, but they share this space and nile at least wouldn't appreciate coming home to nicky's bare ass, he supposes. and he wants, more than anything, for joe to spread him out and mark him up, rub his beard everywhere. wants, too, to bite at joe's collarbone and leave a mark there, and over his heart, and -
everywhere. ]
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immediately though his mind drifts to what they could do in bed and there are no complaints. instead, he settles his hands more firmly on nicky's ass and hauls him up with an aborted grunt of effort, coaxing nicky's legs around his waist. it's ridiculous, to carry nicky to bed, adjusting his grip so he won't drop the love of his life unceremoniously on the floor, but joe is a little ridiculous when it comes to nicky. the weight of nicky is familiar against him and his steps don't falter, taking nicky to the bedroom as requested. ]
I should grab a water.
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Si, [ he mutters, too late. (joe will not hold it against him that he got distracted by him.) ]
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he almost manages to set nicky down on the bed without tipping over, but alas, he drops his husband on the mattress and just barely keeps himself from falling right on top of him by bracing his arm next to nicky's head. he laughs at his own expense, mirth softening as he gazes down at nicky. ]
Look at you... perfetto.
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Joe, [ it's audible in his tone, he knows, the helpless wonder and joy and utter love, the need. even if it wasn't, joe can read him like an open book, has long been able to.
that, and the way nicky grasps at joe's shoulders and pulls him in, the way one leg wraps around joe's hip, the lift of his shoulders off the bed to reach joe's lips, these things are obvious signs of what he wants: joe closer, more. ]
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he shifts them around, settling more in the center of the bed, without breaking the kisses. he only draws back when he's breathless and even then his lips move to the long line of nicky's neck. ]
I know, babe.
[ he is determined to take care of nicky, to take him apart, but there are some logistics to take care of first, namely that they're still dressed. support shifting to one hand pressed into the mattress, the other pushes nicky's shirt up. they'll had to move to get it off fully, but joe doesn't pause, immediately dipping his head to press warm, open-mouthed kisses across his chest, the rasp of his beard leaving more pink skin behind. ]
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