He didn't mean to be so cruel. Really, he didn't. In fact, in the beginning when touch had been all new and intoxicating, he'd encouraged Yusuf to touch himself. It was only a sin if Nicolo touched, after all. Or, at least...that was what he told himself.
Until Matteo had eyed them over the breakfast table one morning and casually made mention of the amount of bedding to be washed in a house of God.
Nicolo had been a little more pious after that.
In the bedroom, years after Matteo had been called from old age and decades after those first energy filled make outs in the dark, Nicolo had no shame about stripping out of the rest of his clothes and taking them out onto the balcony so that the warm breeze could carry away the worst of the fish scent. A cloth of warm water ran over his skin next, and he was in the middle of his washing up when he glanced back through the slightly open door.
"Just a few treats. His wife sent them home with me." He chuckled before patting himself dry and pulling one of Yusuf's simple painting cottons over his body. "I think she feels bad about last time." That last was said as he came strolling out of the room, barefoot and looking much happier now that he was cleaner.
Pulling his bag over, he smiled as he pulled out two small crocks. One held a sweet fig jam that Yusuf had expressed his joy about last time she'd made it, and the second? Well, Nicolo made a sound low in his throat as he plucked an olive from it's brine and placed it gingerly into his mouth, moaning around his fingers.
no subject
Until Matteo had eyed them over the breakfast table one morning and casually made mention of the amount of bedding to be washed in a house of God.
Nicolo had been a little more pious after that.
In the bedroom, years after Matteo had been called from old age and decades after those first energy filled make outs in the dark, Nicolo had no shame about stripping out of the rest of his clothes and taking them out onto the balcony so that the warm breeze could carry away the worst of the fish scent. A cloth of warm water ran over his skin next, and he was in the middle of his washing up when he glanced back through the slightly open door.
"Just a few treats. His wife sent them home with me." He chuckled before patting himself dry and pulling one of Yusuf's simple painting cottons over his body. "I think she feels bad about last time." That last was said as he came strolling out of the room, barefoot and looking much happier now that he was cleaner.
Pulling his bag over, he smiled as he pulled out two small crocks. One held a sweet fig jam that Yusuf had expressed his joy about last time she'd made it, and the second? Well, Nicolo made a sound low in his throat as he plucked an olive from it's brine and placed it gingerly into his mouth, moaning around his fingers.