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in all your imperfections

Summary:

Yusuf slid his tongue into Nicolò’s mouth, swallowing his moan, before moving one hand to reach for Nicolò’s tunic. He wanted to feel the other man’s warm skin against his own without anything blocking it.

Nicolò suddenly froze in his arms, gasping. This time, however, it was not a sound of pleasure, but one of panic. “Stop!” Nicolò yelped. Yusuf stumbled back a step when Nicolò pushed him away, hands shaking.

__________

Nicolò has scars on his back - Yusuf accepts him unconditionally.

 

Based on THIS incredible art, which was in turn inspired by THIS prompt. Thank you both for this!!!

Work Text:

Yusuf kissed Nicolò more deeply, somehow pulling him closer. He wanted to feel the other man pressed against him until they were one. He’d loved Nicolò for what felt like centuries by now, though it had in reality not been nearly so long, and wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his immortal life at the other man’s side. 

 

“Yusuf,” Nicolò moaned, kissing him back. 

 

Yusuf slid his tongue into Nicolò’s mouth, swallowing the sound, before moving one hand to reach for Nicolò’s tunic. He wanted to feel the other man’s warm skin against his own without anything blocking it. 

 

Nicolò suddenly froze in his arms, gasping. This time, however, it was not a sound of pleasure, but one of panic. “Stop!” Nicolò yelped. Yusuf stumbled back a step when Nicolò pushed him away, hands shaking. 

 

Yusuf swallowed, suddenly nervous that he had overstepped. He had kissed Nicolò first, after all. “I… I apologise,” he said immediately, fighting back his own roiling emotions. “I thought this feeling was reciprocated.” He swallowed down a surge of tears. “Forgive me for misunderstanding -”

 

“No!” Nicolò said, interrupting him, his wonderful face pale with two spots of colour high on his cheeks. He shook his head, one hand fisted in his tunic while his other covered his eyes, wiping away sudden tears. “It’s not that,” he explained shakily, switching to Ligurian. “I want you so much. I just don’t want you to see…” he trailed off, shaking his head. 

 

Yusuf barely resisted the urge to take a step closer, wanting nothing more than to take the other man back into his arms to comfort him, but he sensed there was more to this conversation, and wasn’t willing to let the matter drop. Not when Nicolò looked so ashamed and fearful. 

 

“See?” he asked, confused. “What do you mean?” He shook his head again, licking his lips in a nervous gesture. His mother had tried to break him of that tell for years, but had been largely unsuccessful. “Not see your body?” 

 

Nicolò held his arms to his chest, holding himself, and looked to the ground. Yusuf dared to step closer, relieved when Nicolò gave him a small smile. It did not reach his eyes, but was better than nothing. Yusuf put an arm over his shoulders, pulling him close. He guided him to sit in the shade underneath a large tree, fighting down his worry and fear. 

 

He’d never seen Nicolò like this. 

 

He’d seen the other man scared, ashamed, angry, joyful, and all manner of emotions in between. But Nicolò had never seemed scared of him. And that frightened Yusuf, especially as he did not know why Nicolò had reacted in this way. He wanted to know, wanted to somehow fix it, and take on the burden for himself. He knew Nicolò would do the same for him, should the need arise. 

 

“You can tell me anything,” he swore, voice little more than a whisper. “There is nothing that will make me think less of you.” 

 

Nicolò made an odd sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, looking up at Yusuf with teary eyes. Yusuf brushed them away with a gentle touch, and waited to see if the other man would say anything. He would not push him - not now, and not about this. 

 

After several minutes Nicolò began to speak, his voice low and monotone, as though he was telling Yusuf something dull, something that did not affect him so deeply. 

 

Yusuf listened without interrupting. Listened as Nicolò told him of how his father had thought him to be a devil child, blaming him for his mother’s death shortly after he was born. The man had taken to beating him or whipping him in turn, angry at the world and blaming his son. 

 

At the Monastery, Nicolò explained, still in that horrible voice, it had not been better. 

 

He had been sent away after he had been caught kissing another boy. He was a worthless sinner, not worthy of God’s grace. He had not been whipped, not there, but ordered penance by way of self flagellation, as a way to cleanse his soul. 

 

Yusuf listened as the words poured from Nicolò’s mouth, swallowing down his own tears. He wanted to rage at the world, to get on a ship to Genoa and find Nicolò’s father, though he knew the man was long dead by now. He wanted to tear the Monastery down brick by brick, so that there was no monument to Nicolò’s pain. 

 

Nicolò drew in a shaky breath, pulling away from Yusuf. Yusuf tried to reach for him again, wanting to somehow give him comfort, but stopped when he saw the expression on the other man’s face. 

 

“You see how I -- Yusuf,” Nicolò said, voice thick. He shook his head again. “You deserve to be with someone better.” 

 

Yusuf moved to his knees, reaching out to put a finger under Nicolò’s chin, forcing him to look up and meet his eyes. “Nicolò,” he said, swallowing down his own tumultuous emotions to reassure the other man of his love. “The only person I deserve to be with is you,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He pressed their foreheads together for a brief moment, before moving to kiss away Nicolò’s tears. “You need not explain anything more to me until you are ready.” 

 

He pulled back, cupping Nicolò’s face with one hand. Nicolò leaned into his touch, fresh tears streaming down his face. 

 

Yusuf smiled, full of love for the man in front of him. “But know I choose you, Nicolò,” he declared. “You don’t have to force yourself to show me, or tell me more. I want only you. Now and forever.” 

 

Nicolò drew in another shuddering breath and closed his eyes, leaning his cheek even more into Yusuf’s palm for a brief moment, before he rose to his feet, shedding his tunic in an elegant motion. He visibly took a breath before turning around, exposing his back. 

 

Yusuf closed his eyes for a long moment, heart breaking at the site of the lash marks covering Nicolò’s bare skin. They started at his shoulders, with some snaking up his neck, and went down to his buttocks. Several of the marks still looked purple and raw, while some others were so pale they were scarcely visible. 

 

He felt a tear drip down his cheek, but made no move to wipe it away.  

 

“Nicolò…” he whispered. “May I touch you?” 

 

Nicolò’s shoulders visibly shook, and he wrapped his arms around himself again, head dropped forwards in a defeated slouch. “You may.” 

 

He reached out a hand, ignoring how it shook, and gently caressed one of the larger scars, one that was crossing Nicolò’s back and wrapped around his hip. The other man flinched, and Yusuf splayed his palm flat, feeling the warm skin under his hand. 

 

Bello ,” he said in Italian, voice strong. “ Magnifico ,” he continued, shuffling forwards on his knees so he could wrap his arms around Nicolò’s torso. He pressed a kiss into the small of his back. He stood, kissing up Nicolò’s spine. “Perfetto.” 

 

He moved one hand to wrap up over Nicolò’s shoulders, cupping his face once more. He kissed the back of Nicolò’s neck, ignoring how the man was shaking in his arms. 

 

He spun him around, kissing all over his face, before dropping to his knees again, pulling Nicolò down with him. He maneuvered the other man onto his lap, snaking his own arms up and over Nicolò’s scarred back. The feeling of raised flesh under his hands broke his heart in two, but he pushed the grief from his mind. Now was not the time to focus on how the scars made him feel. It was the time to reassure the man that he loved with all of his soul. 

 

Nicolò was here and safe with him. He had survived, and was all the more beautiful in Yusuf’s eyes because of his strength. 

 

“In all your imperfections,” he said, pulling back to meet Nicolò’s tear bright eyes, “there is beauty and strength. And my love for you is only growing, my Nicolò.” He pulled him close again, kissing his lips. “All and more.” 

 

Nicolò let out a single sob before he kissed him fiercely. Yusuf kissed back just as hard, needing to know that Nicolò was here and with him. 

 

“I love you,” Nicolò said, the declaration ghosting across Yusuf’s lips. “I love you so much.” 

 

Yusuf chuckled. “And I love you,” he promised, heart full of joy. “I love all of you. 

 

Nicolò smiled again, and this time the expression reached his bright eyes. “What did I do to deserve someone as wonderful as you?” he asked shakily. 

 

Yusuf kissed him again.  “I could say the same to you,” he chuckled. He kissed Nicolò again before hugging him close. For now he just wanted Nicolò safe and in his arms. The rest of the world could wait.