When they lay in bed together that night, Joe traced his fingers over the growing stubble on Nicky's jaw.
"Should I grow it out?" Nicky said, smiling, as Joe rubbed against the grain, just to feel the scratch of it. "It has been a long time since I had a beard."
Joe smiled slowly. They were both tired, and on the edge of sleep.
"If you like," he said, and then looked at Nicky through his eyelashes, slyly. "Or you could shave for me," he offered. Nicky inhaled.
"Hmm, would you like that?" he said, his voice a touch warmer, a little lower. Joe nodded, and pulled Nicky closer, until they were fit together, Joe's face against his neck.
"I would have liked to see you as a beardless youth, before we found each other," Joe said, and Nicky hummed warmly.
"I was a foolish boy," he said. "I would not have known the prize I had found."
"If you think you were a wise man when we met," Joe said. "I have news for you."
Nicky laughed, and they both drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, swords close to the bed.
The next morning, Joe let himself doze, half-listening to the unintelligible sounds of Nicky, Nile and Andy talking on the other side of the bedroom door. He heard them laugh, and the sound of Nicky saying something, and then the door opened, Nicky silhouetted in the doorway. Joe made a gesture to privacy by flicking a corner of the sheet over his groin. Nicky smiled, and let the door fall closed behind him.
“Andy and Nile are going to the next safe house,” he said, grinning slyly. “Andy told Nile it was for our anniversary. To give us some privacy.”
Joe raised an eyebrow.
“Is it our anniversary?” he asked. Nicky shrugged.
“Maybe. For something,” he said, and Joe snorted. Nicky came over to kiss his forehead, and then leaned back, stretching. “I am going to shave. You want to watch me, you lecherous old man?”
Joe smirked.
“Leave the bathroom door open,” he said, turning onto his side, propping his head up to watch. Through the open door of the bathroom, he could see the edge of the sink, and he watched as Nicky stripped to his skin, the hair on his arms rising in the cold. He left the clothes in a pile on the bathroom floor, and filled the sink with water. He had a plastic bag with a pharmacy logo on it, and he rifled through it, humming to himself. He didn’t try to put on a show, though sometimes he would glance over at Joe watching him and smirk. He knew the effect he was having.
Joe watched him shave carefully, first his face, and then his body, every inch of it. He watched him brace his leg up on the edge of the bath to reach the backs of his ankles, and take his time trimming the hair on his balls. He’d watched Nicky do this before, in different forms, through the years. It was an infrequent indulgence, a luxury Nicky offered up to him.
“You could always help, you know,” Nicky said, at one point, not looking up from shaving the back of his legs. Joe had flipped the sheet off, but was resisting touching himself, even as his cock thickened just from watching Nicky’s naked body in movement.
“I like watching you do it,” he said, and Nicky laughed to himself.
“You mean a millennia has made you lazy,” he said, his voice warm and lilting. Joe felt warm all the way through, even naked with no sheet covering him. He wanted to touch himself, but he made himself wait. It would be worth it.
Nicky rubbed cream into his legs and his chest, Joe watching him the whole time, watching his hands running over his thighs, cradling his balls, holding his slowly hardening cock out of the way. He didn’t rush, or play with himself. They both liked it enough without playing games.
When he was done, he rinsed the razor in the sink one last time, and dried his lotion-damp hands on an old towel, and turned to Joe, raising an eyebrow as the water drained away.
“Come here, love of my heart,” Joe said, opening his arms, and watching Nicky walk towards him. He knew Nicky’s steps anywhere, the sound and pattern of them, the flow of his body. He reached out to touch his leg, and then pulled himself up to sitting to get two hands on him, trailing up the perfectly smooth skin of his thighs, feeling the crease at the top of his legs, tucking into the curve in the small of his back.
“Do you want me to tell you all about the youth I was?” Nicky said, sliding his hands up Joe’s shoulders, his fingers playing at the edge of Joe’s beard. His smile was sly and playful, and his eyes danced with humour. “Or should I tell you about the men I looked at? What I wanted them to do?” he asked, letting Joe pull him closer until he was standing between his spread legs, looking down at him.
Joe kissed the skin below his navel, smooth and soft, where usually there would be a rough patch of hair. He looked up at him, the angle showing him the planes of Nicky’s chest, the soft peaks of his nipples, the line of his jaw. Joe stroked a hand down his side, feeling the smooth skin of his leg, and the muscle underneath.
“Tell me,” he said firmly. Nicky smiled, so sweetly and perfectly and lifted one knee to the bed, and then the other, until he was across Joe’s lap, his weight balanced across Joe’s thighs. His cock curved upwards, reaching towards his stomach. He held onto Joe’s shoulder to balance as he leaned back, smiling.
“There was a boy,” Nicky said slowly, nearly shyly, running a hand over Joe’s chest, as at ease as if they were fully dressed. They had not been ashamed to be naked together in over 900 years.
“What was his name?” Joe said, running a hand down Nicky’s back, his fingers running across the surface of his skin, until they reached the curve of his ass. Nicky smiled, as he remembered.
“Andrea,” he said fondly. “His beard came in before the rest of us. He was so handsome.”
“You wanted him,” Joe said, the tips of his fingers pressing against the tight curl of Nicky’s asshole, just teasing him. Nicky nodded, and shifted, his breath hitching.
“Oh, yes,” he said. “He got so big that summer, and he was a man already, when we were just boys. I would watch him bathe, and wish I could touch him. Wish he would touch me.”
“You touched yourself thinking of him,” Joe said, leading him to the next step of the story. Nicky nodded, watching his hand trail over Joe’s chest. “What did you think of?”
"I wanted him to touch me," Nicky said dreamily, as if the memory was just coming back to him. "I didn’t know how, just that I wanted his big hands on me. I wanted to feel his beard. I wanted his cock." Nicky's hand reached Joe's own cock, and rubbed gently across the head, spreading wetness along the length. "He was the first man I ever wanted."
Joe groped behind himself until he found the lube they had left there, and then, after a moment of fumbling, pressed his wet fingers against the slight give of Nicky’s asshole, listening to him sigh happily.
“You wanted him inside of you,” Joe said, the tips of two fingers slipping just inside the grip of Nicky’s body, only a tease.
“I want you inside of me,” Nicky said, pushing back enough that Joe’s fingers pressed in another centimetre. He looked so wanton, his body begging Joe for more.
“You want me to fuck you?” Joe said, turning his fingers, feeling Nicky's body cling to him. “You want to fuck yourself on my cock?”
“You will have to show me how,” Nicky said shyly, looking up at Joe through his eyelashes, his expression innocent. "I am not sure of the way."
Joe swallowed. Why did he ever think he was in control of these situations, when it was Nicky, always Nicky, that had him by the throat? Nicky could lead him to his own death, could put the knife to his throat, and he would go willing. He had, in the past.
“Someone as beautiful as you should not be so innocent in pleasure,” he said, gripping Nicky's hip tightly in his free hand. Nicky smiled, like light dawning over his face.
“Will you show me?” Nicky said, and Joe nodded, kissed his chest, his neck, enthralled by all of Nicky’s body. With his hands, he coaxed Nicky’s legs up onto the bed, so he was on his knees, the angle just right for Joe to hold his cock in place and press the head against Nicky’s asshole, a little slippery with lube.
“That’s it,” Joe said gently, as Nicky bore down, so slowly it was nearly painful, the tight grip of Nicky’s body enveloping him. "That's good, you're doing so well."
Nicky exhaled, long and breathless, as if it was truly his first time, as if Joe was the first cock he'd had inside him, the first man he had ever let fuck him.
Joe reached around and pressed his fingers against the place where they were joined, where his cock opened Nicky up, feeling the give of Nicky’s body, and listening to his sharp inhale of breath.
“Has anyone ever touched you this way?” he asked, his breath hot against Nicky’s chest. “Has any man been inside you?”
“No,” Nicky said breathlessly. “You are the first, oh.”
Joe groaned, pressing his face against Nicky’s chest, rubbing his beard against the smooth skin there. It was a lie. They had both been experienced, in every sense, the first time they made love. But the dream, the idea, that he could have been Nicky’s first, that they could have been everything to each other, first and last, the beginning and the end. He couldn’t restrain himself from thrusting hard up into the hot clutch of Nicky’s body, making him groan. Maybe it would be more realistic to be careful with him, but he knew he couldn’t hurt him. There was no way Joe could hurt Nicky, body or soul.
“No one has ever made you feel like this. No one has made you feel so good,” Joe said, delirious with the idea of it. Nicky shook his head.
“No, no one, only you” Nicky said, gasping, clinging to Joe’s shoulders. His cock was hard and red, leaking against their stomachs, but he made no move to touch himself, nothing to give himself relief. He was giving himself entirely over to Joe.
The angle, Nicky in his lap, didn’t give him much leverage, but it let Nicky sink all the way onto him, as deep as Joe could go, feeling the hot, tight grip of Nicky’s body, the slide of his cock just slightly in and out, friction all along the length. Nicky made a small noise on every downstroke, a quick, sweet exhalation, like he was surprised by the pleasure of it. It was the greatest sound of Joe’s long life, the sound of Nicky full of his cock and loving every second of it.
“Oh, oh, oh please,” Nicky gasped, his legs straining as he worked himself up and down Joe’s cock, his face slack with pleasure.
“Please what?” Joe asked, skimming his hands over Nicky’s hairless chest, his thumbs pressing against his pink nipples. “Do you want me to touch you?”
Nicky fell forward, burying his flushed face in the join of Joe’s neck, panting for air, his hips jerking helplessly. He always acted like playing this game was just for Joe’s benefit, but Joe thought Nicky loved it just as much as he did, the way it let him sink into pleasure without artifice, the way it let him hand control over to Joe without thinking.
“Ah, anything, please,” he said, his mouth wet against the skin of Joe’s neck. “It’s so good, touch me, please.”
“Anything you want,” Joe said gently, kissing Nicky’s temple gently, tasting his sweat and the clean scent of his skin. Nicky’s breath caught as his hips moved, Joe’s cock sinking into him to the hilt. Being inside him was as glorious now as it had been the first time, when they had finally succumbed to the boiling desire inside them, rutting in the dirt, sweating and bleeding and in love. “Let me make you feel good.”
He worked a hand between them to grip Nicky’s cock in his hand. They were both warm and Nicky’s perfectly hairless skin was slick with sweat and precome, his balls tight up against his body. He was perfect. Joe could have played with him for hours, fingering the soft skin behind his balls, sliding his foreskin over the head of his dick till he cried. He’d done it before, Nicky crying and trembling in their bed, just letting Joe play with him.
“Oh, please,” Nicky said, begging, turning his face against Joe’s neck, rubbing against his beard. Joe could feel the tug against his face, see the way Nicky's smooth cheeks came up red. Years ago, Joe had spent an afternoon rubbing his beard over the skin of Nicky's thighs, watching the beard burn come up. But he didn't want to play with him today. The tight clench of Nicky around his cock was too good to resist, and it had been too long since they'd last made love like this. He wanted to feel Nicky shake with pleasure, speared on his cock, and he wanted to fill Nicky with his come, listening to him crying out. He was blessed with an immortal life of the simple unending pleasure of their bodies together.
Nicky lifted himself up and bore down on Joe's cock, his face creasing in pleasure, his eyes fluttering closed, and Joe stroked his cock, feeling the weight of it in his hand, the smooth glide of his palm, listening to the sweet sounds Nicky made, overwhelmed by pleasure.
"Good boy," he said, nosing his way past Nicky's hair to his neck, coaxing him to sit up and let Joe kiss his collar bone, the column of his neck, his Adam's apple jumping with every gasping breath. “You are so good, Nicky.”
Nicky moaned, chasing his orgasm, fucking himself hard on Joe’s cock, their thighs slapping against each other, and Joe’s hand on his cock, coaxing him to the edge. He cried out so sweetly, when he finally tumbled over the edge, his cock jerking in Joe’s hand, come spilling onto his stomach and Joe’s chest.
“Yusuf,” Nicky said, all artifice gone, still breathing hard, his hips slowing as he came down, Joe feeling the aftershocks move through him in each clench of his body around Joe’s cock.
“My love,” Joe gasped, pressing his face against Nicky’s chest. He’d been holding it together watching Nicky, but now, Nicky tight around him, he was just short of tumbling over the edge, sunk deep into pleasure. Nicky was teasing him, tightening up around his cock and then releasing, letting Joe fuck his cock into him in short thrusts.
Nicky’s hands gripped Joe’s shoulders, using him as leverage to ride his cock harder, smiling down at him, his body sliding up and down his cock in a tight grip. It was deliriously good, pulling Joe’s body along in the flow of pleasure.
“I remember when I first saw you,” Nicky said, in between harsh breaths, both of them breathing hard and sweating, Joe only able to groan as Nicky rode him, one of his hands petting at Joe’s beard. “I remember your beard - ah - and you were so handsome.”
“Nicky,” Joe gasped, and Nicky pulled at his beard, stinging his skin, until they were kissing, open-mouthed and wet against each other. Nicky’s fingers tugged again, and Joe tripped head-long over the edge, his cock jerking as he came, spilling over inside the hot grip of Nicky’s body.
Neither of them said anything for a moment, both of them coming down from the high, Nicky breathing against Joe’s hair, Joe’s nose against his neck. After a moment, Nicky groaned and flexed one of his legs, and braced a hand on Joe’s shoulder.
“My knees,” he said softly, and Joe let him lean on him when he stood, stretching out his knees. They were old men, secretly.
He watched Nicky walk to the bathroom, the door still open, and return with a damp towel to wipe Joe’s chest with, and then they both crawled back into bed, the sheet tangled around them, kissing leisurely, without hurry. Joe indulged himself, running his hand over Nicky’s smooth chest, the hairless skin on his cheeks.
Nicky was a man, not a boy, and Joe loved his man's body, the thick muscles of his thighs, the weight of his balls, the way his jaw would darken if he did not shave for a few days. But it was the dream that thrilled him, the idea that he could have known Nicky as a boy, when they were both young and mortal, ignorant of the path their lives would take. Would Nicky have seen him, perhaps at the port in Genoa when Joe travelled with his father, or maybe Nicky would have made a pilgrimage as a youth, and their eyes would have met across the forum in Acre. Would he have been thrilled by him, the soft-faced Frank with deep eyes? Would they have loved each other, even then, the two halves of their souls in different bodies? They would never know.
They had grown old together, until they were strangers in a strange land, the world changed around them. The lives of their youth were gone, faded and crumbled into nothing, but they had each other, always.
Nicky kissed him softly, and ran his fingers over the scratch of Joe’s beard.
“It wasn’t your beard I noticed first,” Nicky said quietly, their ankles twining together under the sheets. “I thought you had kind eyes.”
Joe smiled, and snorted, just an entertained exhale.
“If I remember correctly,” he said, taking Nicky’s hand to kiss his fingertips. “You were trying to kill me at the time.”
Nicky smiled, his light eyes filling up with humour.
“You killed me too,” he said. Joe remembered the taste of his blood, the drops of it that had exploded across his mouth, the feeling of the deep cut of Nicky’s sword. They had changed each other, forever, in that moment.
“I was returning the favour,” Joe said, raising his eyebrows, and Nicky pressed a finger against his lips, feeling the curve of his mouth.
“And the second time? I did not kill you first then,” he said. Joe remembered it. They had come back to life, in the shadow of the lower quarter of the city, and parted, suspicious of the strange miracle of their life. Joe had hunted him, the Frank with the long hair, and killed him in his bed, in the home for pilgrims. Nicky had woken from sleep to die on his sword, and then woken from death to Joe’s hands on his face.
“I wanted you to remember me. A man who killed you once is not memorable. But the man who killed you twice? You would not forget me." Joe said. Nicky laughed, and pulled his hand back to kiss his cheek, the crease of his lips, the edge of his beard.
“You had a crush on me, you mean,” he said, laughing, and Joe kissed him fully, pulling his lover in close to him, feeling their bodies against each other, both of them full of joy.