#kaysanova fic

[padrenicolo]

hello! I need ur help. Can you help me find a fic about joe and nicky in the train? I think they are both standing but joe is asleep on Nicky’s shoulders while also managing their luggages. And I think there was a queer character at the end who spoke with Nicky at the end. Thanks in advance!

i cant think of this off the top of my head, does anyone recognise this one?

[scimitar-and-longsword]

Free Fall Chapter 1/3 This is a sequel to Pilot!Nicky smut I wrote in Nov 2020. Surprise?? Nicky makes another trip to Amsterdam to see his new... casual hook up? Sure. Casual. More mutual pining while having ridiculous sex, but this time from Nicky’s POV. Read it on AO3

[seanchaidh7]

Joe & Nicky 🧹

Ohhhh this fic has been living rent free in my head since my first read! The most perfect brilliant Joe/Nicky quidditch au that ever existed. It's pure perfection, and a SERIES ❤️‍🔥

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[destatihayati]

In search of a Kaysanova fic:

In it, Joe and Nicky are immortal but take a drug for immortals that wipes their memories every ~30 years, supposedly so they don’t go insane. Nile is researching the drug and the truth behind it. Joe and Nicky meet but it becomes clear they have fallen in love in pretty much every life time but keep forgetting. They are determined to learn the truth.

It’s so GOOD and I somehow didn’t bookmark it and I’m desperate to read again. Does anyone recognize this gem? I’m pretty sure the title of the fic was the name of the drug.

HALP?

[knoepfchen]

So I'm in Edinburgh and i went to the camera obscure museum, and I'm having loads of Joe nicky thoughts. Like they each go the museum by themselves, but are going round at a similar pace, so keep politely letting the other one go first on things, until then they get to stuff like infinity boxes that need two people, and they end up doing that together, and they get to the end of museum and go through the vortex maze and Joe has to hold Nicky's hand for support and then they snog in the mirrors

Oh anon, I’m so jealous. I hope you have the best time. 💖

Full disclosure, I’ve walked past the Camera Obscura hundreds of times, and although I’ve never actually been in there, I can very much relate to the “I’m in Edinburgh and am having Joe Nicky thoughts” part of the message, so here goes nothing:

(if anyone’s read a different kind of tension, you can imagine this as an alternative get together after nicky moves to Edinburgh)

Nicky’s back collides sharply with a mirror. His groan from the mild pain is immediately swallowed by the mouth of the man who pushed him against it. That makes it sound like Nicky hasn’t fantasised about him doing that for the last two hours, which. Is very much not the case.

They’d been going around the Camera Obscura at a similar pace, alternating in letting each other go first on the attractions. At first, Nicky was worried he’d cut the man with the gleaming eyes and the crooked smile off from his friend group, but after a while, he realised the man was alone here as well. Had he perhaps also just moved to Edinburgh, like Nicky? Or was he a tourist on a day trip, just looking for some fun? This museum seemed like a strange place to go for it, but Nicky wasn’t one to judge. He’d wandered in on a whim, exploring the city before he started his new job.

The cute guy who smiled at him encouragingly and did the activities that required more than two people with him had been a bonus, especially when he reached for Nicky’s hand on their way through the vortex maze. Nicky hadn’t wanted to let go after, but the aisles of the mirror cabinet were only wide enough to permit one person enter at a time.

So Nicky had fumbled his way forward through the mirrors, frustration written on his face. Not just because he kept bumping into mirrors, but also because of the glimpses he catches behind him, of a curl of hair, the outline of what could be a wink.

God, he doesn’t even know the guy’s name, hasn’t said a single word to him, but how can he not? It seems like a pretty crucial thing to know of someone you want to ask out for dinner.

It happens when Nicky bumps into yet another dead end, watching for someone behind him in the mirror rather than the ground where they coalesce. He turns with a sigh and there he is, the guy with the smile. With the eyes. Right behind Nicky, and mid-step, unable to stop walking and so—Nicky’s back, meet mirror. Nicky’s front, meet handful of possibly the most beautiful man in the universe. He has dimples, for God’s sake.

That they’re already kissing at that point feels almost like an afterthought. Time has slowed down, has gotten syrupy. The advertisement said that it’s possible to lose hours in the Camera Obscura, but Nicky doesn’t think that this is what they had in mind: His lips tingling from where they’re grazing against another man’s beard, desperately trying to keep himself from sighing into his mouth every time his soft, soft fingers caress his face.

‘Excuse me, this is a place for children!’

The man backs away from Nicky, and Nicky sees a woman with a stern face eyeing them over his shoulder. Or maybe the mirror image of a woman. He wasn’t very good at telling before, and he certainly isn’t now.

‘We’re very sorry,’ the man who just kissed Nicky within an inch of his life says. ‘We’re leaving now.’

Apparently, he also has smooth and light voice. Nicky’s knees feel impossibly weaker as he peels himself off the mirror.

‘Come on,’ the man says, and holds out his hand to Nicky once more. Where he’d almost clung on in the vortex maze, he seems overly confident here, pulling Nicky through the cabinet without so much as stubbing his toe against a mirror.

‘You alright?’ he asks when they emerge on the other side, blinking into the sun and gloom of the Royal Mile.

Nicky blinks up at him. ‘Did you just pretend to be scared in the vortex so you could hold my hand?’

The man’s smile turns sheepish as he scratches his neck. ‘It seemed like too good an opportunity not to,’ he admits. ‘I’m Joe. And I really hope you’ll forgive me.’

‘Nicky.’ They shake hands, which seems oddly formal after what they just did in the mirror cabinet, but Nicky has been tutted at enough for one day. ‘And I will, probably. It depends. Maybe if you’ll have dinner with me.’

Joe’s answer is only a smile, but Nicky already knows—they’ll understand each other without words.

[fangirlshrewt97]

Yusuf, trying to teach Nicolo math: If you had 10 sweets and I asked for 5, how many would you have left?

Nicolo: None.

Yusuf: Nicolo, this is basic math, don’t mess with m-

Nicolo: I would give them all to you because you’re my best friend.

Yusuf, holding back tears: Habibi, my heart. The world does not deserve your kindness.

[linaxart]

Joe w his sunny yellow scarf from my fic Double Tap 💛☀️ (Joenicky. Teen. Modern AU. Lots of pining.)

don't repost. click to enlarge. reblogs appreciated 💕

[ID: a digital fanart of Yusuf Al-Kaysani from The Old Guard. The style is simple black lines and flat colours with a warm grainy filter. It's a selfie, he's smiling at the camera, wearing a fluffy yellow scarf around his neck and a blue shirt. The background is a hazy scene of a park in the fall. At the top, in Instagram's typewriter font, a caption reads "maybe autumn has rights". End ID]

[hoziersmoon]

a canon tl joenicky piece that feels sappy even to me <3 smoking tw.

Joe is of the opinion that this decade suits Nicky very well. He often finds himself of that opinion, it’s true, but there’s something incredibly intoxicating and alluring about his Nicolò right now.

Nicky’s sitting up against the headboard, relaxing in a way that feels delightfully hedonistic to them both because they’ve done nothing but that the whole day. A walk around the city, eating light, fresh foods, wandering in and out of shops that catch their fancy. No rush, just the brush of Nicky against him as they strolled around before ultimately heading home as the sun dipped lower.

It’s been one of those days where they haven’t said much to each other. Not in a distant way- quite the opposite, in fact. Words, speaking aloud, none of it really feels necessary, some days. Some days, Joe feels so in tune to Nicky’s every breath, and when that feeling is mutual, they both just know it, and they’ll spend the whole day being quiet and breathing together.

Now, the sun is so low in the sky that their little bedroom is painted in streaks of pink. Joe is on a chair, a book of poetry in hand, feet on the bed, as Nicky reclines against the headboard. 

Joe doesn’t really care for the poems- English is not his favourite language in which to consume poetry and this collection seems flowery even for his tastes. He only bought it because he likes to leave scathing annotations in the margins for Booker to read when they meet again.

However, Nicky is much more interesting to study right now. 

He’s got a cigarette dangling between his fingers, head lolling against the wall, gazing out at the window. The evening light casts a pink blush across his face, dark hair falling out of the hold of the pomade he uses to hang over his forehead. 

It’s recently come into fashion for men to wear their suspenders outside of their shirts and Joe is a little bit obsessed with how well the recent trend suits Nicky. The look emphasizes the width of his shoulders, the muscles in his arms. Even his waist looks smaller than usual, consequently making his thighs look thicker.

Yes. This decade suits his Nicolò, indeed.

Nicky takes a drag of his cigarette, then turns his head to lock those intense blue eyes on Joe’s, blowing out the smoke deliberately slowly and luxuriously. The smoke curls up past his face, caressing the highest point of his cheek like a lover would. 

Not a lover. Joe- the way Joe would, the way Joe has.

Nicky smirks at him, looking rakish and fond all in one, and there’s nothing in the world that could stop Joe from setting his book aside and crawling into the bed, in between where Nicky’s thighs are spreading to accommodate him.

They slide down the bed in tandem, so that Nicky is laying flat, Joe hovering over him.

Joe loves him, loves him, loves him. The world is only them, right now. This little bed, the smell of smoke, the curve of Nicky’s cupid's bow. 

Nicky’s gaze softens, because he knows. He’s the only other being on this earth who could ever know.

Nicky reaches up and drags his fingers lightly down the column of Joe’s throat, and Joe knows he’s drawn to the way his shirt is unbuttoned, revealing the jut of his collarbones. 

Absent-mindedly, Nicky takes another drag of the cigarette and just as he’s about to exhale, Joe leans down and captures the smoke from his mouth with a kiss, drawing the burn of it into his own lungs, then exhaling it between them again.

In an abrupt fit of romance, Joe imagines a piece of Nicky lodged in his lungs now, safe and with him always.

Nicky gazes at him with hooded eyes, parted lips, one of his legs hitching up, thigh brushing Joe’s waist. He drops the cigarette in the ashtray on the nightstand, then uses his free hand to twist in the splayed-open collar of Joe’s shirt to drag him down for a leisurely, consuming kiss.

Joe goes willingly, pressing their chests together, heartbeat to heartbeat. 

Nico tastes mostly of ash from the cigarette, but it only makes Joe hungrier. He knows that underneath it all, he’ll find the taste of Nicolò, unchanged by the centuries.

Nicky sighs against his lips, and the world falls away.