SquidgeWorld Archive

Paring: Robin of Huntingdon/Nasir  
Disclaimer: I do not own Robin of Sherwood or any of its characters. I have not made any money from the writing of this.

Glossary of Arabic terms:  Sadiqi = My friend. Hashishyun = Lit. “one who uses hashish” Name for the Al-Da’wa al-JadÄ«da. Ya Allah = My dear god. Inshallah = If god wills

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Who reproaches me for love of the friend,
When, slain at the friend's foot, I am content?  Dost thou not, one day, in helplessness, yield the soul?
Then it is best thou surrender it at the feet of the beloved.  

~Sadi

The robed figure slumped to the ground in a dark spill of blood as Robin jerked Albion out and away. Lifting his head, the man stared at Robin with hot, half-mad eyes, his hands clutching at the hideous wound, and, for a brief moment, Robin thought that he would get back to his feet. He raised Albion again, prepared to strike, but the crazed eyes slid shut as his enemy shuddered and died. With a quick prayer of thanks, Robin bent and briefly examined the wound the man had inflicted to his thigh. It stung, but it seemed shallow enough. The blood had barely begun to soak through the ripped cloth of his trews. It was, Robin thought, only a cut, not even serious enough for stitching. He had definitely known worse.

Squatting down, Robin cleaned the blade of his sword on the dead man's clothes, glancing over to where Nasir was standing, two men dead at his feet. Robin had come upon his friend on the way back to camp, locked in battle with three warriors garbed in the flowing robes of Nasir’s homeland. All the outlaws were off on their separate tasks for the day, and Robin had just returned from hunting. He had been keen to get back to camp before the others returned, hoping for time to talk with Nasir. The Saracen had refused to come with him on his hunt, which Robin had found odd. Normally Nasir enjoyed their time alone together as much as he did, never failing to volunteer to accompany Robin on even the most mundane task. Now Robin couldn't help but wonder if these men were the reason why his friend had been so reluctant to join him. Had Nasir known that they were coming? And, if so, why had he not said anything? Disturbed, Robin shook his head. He wouldn't know the answers until he talked with his friend. 

Getting to his feet, Robin turned to call to Nasir only to find the Saracen, swords still drawn, striding towards him with a murderous look in his eye. Glad that he hadn't yet sheathed Albion, Robin whirled around quickly, looking for another enemy. Finding none, he turned back to the Saracen in confusion.

"Nasir?"

The Saracen kept advancing, not showing by the merest twitch that he had heard. A shiver of fear ran through Robin; had his friend been bewitched? Robin raised a hand, palm open in a placating gesture, and slowly backed away. He hoped his friend would come to his senses soon, but, until then, keeping some distance between himself and the Saracen seemed like a good idea. But then Robin’s heel came into contact with a very large oak tree, stopping him abruptly in his tracks.

Desperately, Robin tried to think of something to snap Nasir out of whatever spell he was in. He spoke to him again, this time in Arabic. 

"Sadiqi?"

Like someone possessed, Nasir kept coming. Some part of Robin refused to believe that the Saracen would hurt him, even if he was bewitched. And, even if the unthinkable were to happen, Robin knew that he would rather die at the hand of his friend than wield Albion against him, for he would never raise his sword against one that he loved. With Albion hanging limply by his side, Robin simply stood and waited, leaving his fate in the Saracen’s hands.

In the moment before Nasir reached him, the Saracen stopped and thrust both swords point first in the dirt. Not realizing that he had been holding his breath, Robin let out a sigh of relief. His gladness was short-lived, however, as he was abruptly seized by the front of his tunic and roughly shoved up against the tree. His eyes going wide with shock, he stared at his friend in hurt and surprise.

Eyes glittering in anger, Nasir gave him a rough shake and growled in his face. "Never interfere in my personal battles again."

Robin gaped at him in astonishment. This man was his friend, for God's sake! Since when did any one of them not help the other, most especially in a fight? Finding his voice, he burst out, "What did you think I would do? Just stand there and watch them kill you and not do anything?" Frowning, he continued. "Surely you know me better than that!"

His expression hard and unrelenting, Nasir spoke slowly, as one would to a child. "I did not need your help. When I want it, I will ask for it."

Robin stiffened, all the hurt and confusion crystallizing into sharp anger. “Well, you’ll have it whether you want it or not!” he flung back. “Damn you and your bloody pride! It will be the death of you someday and I won’t stand for it.”

Fists still clenched in his friend’s tunic, Nasir shifted forward, forcing Robin’s back against the tree. Robin could feel the bark biting painfully through his clothes. Faces now only inches apart, they were both breathing hard and glaring at each other. His eyes snapping dangerously, the Saracen said harshly, "Be careful, sadiqi. Do you have such little regard for my honor that you would shame me in this way?” 

“Shame you? By stepping in to save your miserable hide?” Robin snapped, shoving back hard against Nasir’s grip. The other man only tightened his fingers and glared. Robin huffed out an exasperated breath. “I care about what happens to you, Nasir, even if you don’t!”

“You care? And this is how you show it? By dishonoring me and risking your own life? Those men would have killed you without a second thought.”

Frustration at his friend’s stubbornness welled up in Robin and overflowed, like a dam bursting. In sudden recklessness, he cried out, “Don’t you understand? I love you more than I have a right to, and if something were to happen to you, I might as well be dead!”

The minute the words left his mouth, Robin wished that he could take them back. Aghast at what he had just revealed, he could no longer meet Nasir's eyes. Robin tensed and looked away, but not before he saw something flicker in the Saracen’s dark gaze. Jesu, what have I done? Robin cursed himself, his head whirling with a confused mass of thoughts and feelings. He was more afraid now of Nasir’s reaction than he had been earlier of his rage. What would he see when he dared to look back at his friend? Had he wanted this so much and for so long that he had only imagined an answering glimmer in that brief glance? Or would he look up to find only loathing and disgust waiting for him?

Mustering all of his courage, Robin swallowed nervously and raised his eyes to his friend’s. What he saw there made the breath catch in his throat. The world went still, losing its focus and narrowing down to two hot, dark eyes and the blatant, open desire burning in their depths. Unable to move, unable to breathe, Robin was helpless to do anything but drown in that liquid gaze. Distantly, he felt Albion slip from his nerveless fingers to fall with a soft thud to the forest floor.

As if that was the cue that Nasir had been waiting for, one of his hands released its grip and slid up, curling around the nape of Robin's neck. Firmly, he pulled Robin forward until their lips met. Closing his eyes, Robin opened his mouth in welcome, hands involuntarily coming up to rest on Nasir's waist and back. In response, the Saracen deepened the kiss, burying both hands in Robin’s hair. Losing himself in the feel and taste of Nasir's warm lips and tongue, Robin tightened his grip, reveling in the feel of the strong body against his: the quick rise and fall of Nasir's chest, the hard length of legs pressed against his own, the heat of the Saracen's skin burning where it touched. The surge of want that coursed through Robin was undeniable, making him moan softly into Nasir’s mouth.

Abruptly, the Saracen broke the kiss and they stood there, panting, gazing into each other’s eyes. Nasir’s expression was conflicted and uncertain, caught somewhere between hunger and heartbreak. Robin didn’t like it. He reached for him, seeking to reassure.

“Robin, no,” Nasir gasped. He stepped back, slipping from Robin’s grasp and turning away.

His knees feeling strangely weak, Robin decided to stay where he was. The tree he was leaning against was reassuringly solid; at least it wasn’t doing odd things, like kissing him and shying away. There was something wrong with that thought, but Robin couldn’t quite figure out what it was. His head felt muddled and unfocussed. Gathering his befuddled wits together, he began, “Why not? Nasir … ”

“Ya Allah, no!” interrupted the Saracen, swiveling his head slightly but still refusing to look at Robin. “This is wrong.”

Taking a step forward, Robin implored his friend: “Nasir, I  …”. A sudden wave of dizziness assaulted him, cutting him off halfway.

Sensing something was wrong, the Saracen spun around and shot out a hand, grabbing Robin’s arm to hold him steady. “Robin, what is it?” he asked, concern in his voice.

Bringing his hand up to his head, Robin replied faintly, “Nothing. A little dizzy is all.”

Unexpectedly, Nasir went very tense and still, like a cat ready to pounce. Following the line of his friend’s gaze down to his now blood-soaked trews, Robin lifted his eyes to meet the Saracen’s accusing glare.

“You are hurt,” Nasir said.

“It’s just a cut,” responded Robin, a trifle defensively.

In a voice gone low and deadly, the Saracen demanded, “Is it from the blade of the hashishyun?”

“What?” Robin asked in confusion. “Why does it matter?”

Nasir seized Robin’s other arm in a grip hard enough to bruise, furious dark eyes boring into his. “Is it from the blade of the Assassin?” he ground out savagely.

Recoiling slightly in surprise, Robin shouted back, “Yes! Yes, it is! Damn it, Nasir, I don’t understand …”

“It is the reason why you should not have interfered,” Nasir cut in fiercely. “Sometimes they poison the blades of their swords so as to ensure a kill.”

Not giving Robin time to react to his shocking statement, the Saracen shoved him forcefully, making him stumble back a step to the oak. “Sit,” he ordered sharply, pushing Robin down as he did so.

Successfully propping Robin against the trunk of the tree, Nasir knelt beside him and grasped the torn edges of Robin’s trews in both hands. With a swift tug, the Saracen ripped the fabric apart, fully exposing Robin’s wound and the pale white skin now smeared with blood. Strong hands came down to hold Robin firmly in place, one just below his knee, the other high on his thigh. Mesmerized, Robin could only stare in fascination as Nasir’s hot mouth closed over the wound, sucking at it hard to remove the poison. Robin groaned, whether in pain or pleasure he couldn’t tell, and sagged back against the tree. Spitting the blood out onto the ground, Nasir turned back to suck again at the injured flesh. Robin clenched his fists, his breathing suddenly uneven as all of the nerve endings in his leg seemed to come alive, on fire from the exquisite torture. The Saracen repeated the maneuver once more and Robin felt the pain and pleasure merge. He drew a shuddering sigh, light-headed and drunk with desire, his groin tightening in a familiar ache.

Finally satisfied that he had removed as much of the poison as possible, Nasir’s head came up, dark eyes searching Robin’s. The Saracen’s gaze was filled with worry and the glimmer of something else.

"Sadiqi?"

Robin didn’t answer. Instead, he leaned forward, trapping Nasir’s hand where it still rested on his thigh with one of his own.  He looked deep into his friend’s eyes.

“You feel it too; I know you do,” Robin said, his voice almost a caress. Raising his other hand, Robin gently wiped away a smear of his own blood from the corner of Nasir’s mouth with his thumb, feeling a fine tremor run through the Saracen as he did so. In a low voice, Robin demanded, “Look me in the eye and deny that you want me.”

“I … cannot.” The admission was wrenched from the Saracen, helpless despair in the exotic eyes. “Ya Allah, Rob, I have wanted you for so long. It torments me day and night. I can’t sleep but that I dream of you. But I resist because I must, because it is wrong.” 

“How is it wrong when we both want it? Tell me, Nasir. I want to know.”

“It is not for us; it is forbidden,” replied the Saracen, breathing hard, a trapped look in his eyes. “This brings shame on both of us.”

“No, I don’t believe that and I don’t think that you do either,” said Robin, shaking his head. “You’re afraid of this. Of me. You, who would face down an army of warriors single-handed and not even flinch.” Letting his fingers trail lightly down the other man’s face, Robin cupped his jaw, bringing his head up. Very softly, he asked, “Why are you afraid of me?”

“No … I am not. We must not,” Nasir said, in a low desperate voice.

“You want it and I want it. There’s no reason to fight it,” insisted Robin quietly, leaning closer. The Saracen made a soft, helpless sound, almost a moan. Robin kissed him very lightly and felt the man tremble under his touch. He pulled back a little, running his thumb gently over Nasir’s lips, then leaned in again. “Let go,” he murmured before capturing Nasir’s mouth with his own.

For half a heartbeat, Nasir didn’t respond. Then he gave a small sob and lunged.  His hands came up and gripped Robin hard, pressing him back against the tree in fierce and desperate need. Hungrily, they devoured each other, all warm lips and tongue and teeth. Robin’s hands roved up Nasir’s sides, drifting across his stomach and coming to rest on the belt at his waist. His fingers fumbling in their haste, Robin pulled on the leather, sliding it through the buckle and letting it fall to the ground with a muffled clank. Slipping his hands inside the Saracen’s jerkin, Robin worked them up underneath the other man’s shirt, fingertips skimming across Nasir’s stomach and chest to caress his nipples.

With a growl, Nasir swept one of his hands up to tangle in Robin’s hair, dragging his head back and exposing the long line of his throat. The Saracen’s mouth trailed a line of fire down Robin’s neck, caressing and tasting his flesh with wet tongue and soft lips, the bristle of beard making Robin’s skin tingle and burn. Reaching the juncture of Robin’s neck and shoulder, the Saracen bit down and sucked at the sensitive flesh there. Robin gasped, fingers digging into the warm skin of Nasir’s waist.

Breaking off his assault on Robin’s neck, the Saracen’s mouth came back up to crush Robin’s lips with his own, their tongues sliding wetly and urgently against each other. Nimble fingers unfastened Robin’s belt, pulling it off and tossing it to the side. This time, when Nasir's hands dragged impatiently at his tunic, it was to push the heavy garment to the side. Robin let go of the Saracen reluctantly, allowing him to ease the tunic off, all the while raining hungry kisses over the other man’s face and neck.

Tugging Robin’s shirt free, Nasir slipped warm, callused palms inside. Lips soon followed hands, as the Saracen pushed the fabric up, alternately licking and nipping at Robin’s skin, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to send tremors running through Robin’s body. Slowly, Nasir worked his way up Robin’s stomach and chest, stopping to flick his tongue against Robin’s nipples. Liquid heat shot straight to Robin's groin, making his cock pulse and ache with need. With a groan, Robin clutched at the Saracen’s strong shoulders, his hips canting up in invitation.

“Nasir, I want to feel you,” Robin pleaded in a whisper, pulling at the other man’s clothes in a desperate need to feel the Saracen’s skin against his.

Lifting his head, Nasir leaned back slightly, reaching up to pull the leather straps from his shoulders and shrug off his jerkin. Robin, sensing his advantage, quickly yanked his own shirt off while the other man was still pulling his over his head. With the Saracen’s arms trapped in his sleeves, Robin launched his attack. Running his fingers up and down Nasir’s sides, Robin’s mouth roamed greedily over the other man’s chest, sucking at the olive skin, teeth worrying at it softly, the salty tang of sweat and the unique taste that was Nasir alive on his tongue.

Breathing hard, the Saracen shuddered and hurled his shirt aside. His hands explored the flex of muscle in Robin’s back and arms. Trailing a hand down Nasir’s stomach, Robin began to work at the laces of the other man’s trews. As his lips continued their journey, Robin’s fingers delved into the opening, finally allowing Nasir’s cock to spring free. Robin felt the other man’s heartbeat quicken as his hand closed around the firm flesh, the skin like velvet under his fingertips. Nasir groaned, his movements becoming erratic, as Robin slowly and firmly began stroking him from root to tip.

Robin watched the other man’s face intently, seeing the dark eyes widen and glaze over, then turned his attention back to what his hand was doing. Robin became fascinated by Nasir’s circumcised cock, strong and pulsing in his fingers, and gleaming slightly, like polished bronze. He had known that the Saracens marked their male children this way, but he had never seen it before so close and so clear.  He ran his thumb over the bare, clean head of Nasir’s cock, finding it oddly beautiful. He had a sudden and overwhelming urge to taste it. Sliding down the other man’s body, Robin buried his head in the Saracen’s lap.

“Rob …” Nasir breathed out with a sob, the sound desperate and undone. His fingers clutched at Robin’s hair as Robin’s tongue laved over the hard shaft before enclosing it in his mouth, sucking softly but continually. Lost in the taste and texture of the Saracen on his tongue, the other man’s musky scent filling his nostrils, Robin gasped in surprise when rough hands seized him, jerking him up and forcing him back against the trunk of the tree. For a brief second, their gazes locked. Nasir’s pupils were blown with desire, making the already dark eyes black and wild. Swooping in, the Saracen kissed him hard and deep, the kiss becoming all-consuming, leaving Robin trembling and pliant amidst the tree roots.

There was a tugging at Robin’s groin as the Saracen’s fingers quickly and surely unlaced him, freeing his needy flesh at last to the cool air. Robin hissed at the feeling, only to be engulfed by the incredibly hot, wet softness of Nasir’s mouth. The sudden sensation overloaded Robin’s senses; he groaned, his hips arching reflexively, only to be held still by his friend’s iron-hard grip. Robin threaded his fingers through the Saracen’s curly hair as Nasir licked a long line up the underside of his cock, sucking gently on the head before enveloping it in the moist heat of his mouth. His head turning from side to side, hands tugging on the other man’s hair, Robin uttered small moans of pleasure as Nasir took him in deeply, again and again, the careful glide of lips and tongue against his shaft becoming nearly unbearable in its intensity.

“Please,” Robin moaned, barely knowing what he was begging for. The Saracen paused, then moved away. Robin whimpered in frustration. “Nasir, please.”

Yanking Robin’s trews and braies down his legs in one swift movement, Nasir quickly divested himself of the rest of his clothing before straddling Robin’s hips with his knees. Resting one hand on Robin’s shoulder, the Saracen leaned his forehead against Robin’s and reached down, encircling both of their cocks with his fingers. Nasir thrust forward, eliciting a groan from the both of them as their hard shafts slid alongside each other. Bracing his hands on the ground, Robin tilted his hips, bucking forward to meet the Saracen as he set up a steady rhythm, their breathing coming together in ragged pants.

The bark scraped painfully against the skin of Robin’s back, and, with every thrust, Nasir’s hand tightened on his shoulder, hard enough to bruise and burning like a brand. Nasir’s hand on his cock was worse, filling him with a sweet singing fire. Beads of sweat ran down Robin’s overheated skin, the relentless ache inside spreading throughout his body. In sudden urgency, Robin dug his fingers into the dirt and pushed himself helplessly up against Nasir’s hips, shuddering as the orgasm crashed over him in white-hot waves. Robin went limp, all the tension draining from his muscles, leaving him weak and half-stunned. Nasir pressed forward, fingers releasing Robin’s shoulder only to grab a handful of hair, his mouth covering Robin’s to drink in his breath like a drowning man, depriving Robin of badly needed air. They were both gasping when the Saracen stiffened and came hard against Robin’s stomach, his warm seed running down to mingle with Robin’s.

Nasir sagged forward, his head coming to rest on Robin’s shoulder, Robin’s arms coming up to wrap themselves around the Saracen’s back. They sat there, leaning into each other, heartbeats thudding in unison as their breathing slowly returned to normal. Robin shivered slightly, the other man’s breath suddenly cool on his sweat-slicked skin.

Eventually, as his senses returned, Robin became aware of a low hitch in the Saracen’s breathing. Under his hands, the muscles in the other man’s shoulders were tense. He heard Nasir whisper something very faintly in Arabic, the words sounding like a prayer. He said his friend’s name softly. “Nasir?”

Nasir stroked a tender hand across Robin’s shoulder and said in a broken voice, “Robin, forgive me, please.”

Frowning, Robin eased back so that he could look at the Saracen’s face, hands not letting go of their hold on his friend. His heart contracted painfully at seeing the dark eyes so open and vulnerable.“Forgive you?” he asked gently. “Forgive you for what?”

“I lost control and should not have,” came the reply, low and rough. “I took advantage when your mind was clouded from the poison. It was wrong.”

“No,” said Robin, shaking his head firmly. “No, that is not what happened at all and we’re not going to have this same argument again. There is nothing wrong with what we just did - it’s right and it’s good. Nasir, I have wanted this … you … since the beginning.”

“But … Marion. I don’t understand.”

“I thought that I loved Marion, but it was never meant to be. Because of you. I’ve always been aware of you, attracted to you. From the very first day, we’ve been able to communicate without words, each knowing what the other is thinking. It was always you; I was just too blind to see it.” Hating the confusion in Nasir’s eyes and needing his friend to understand, Robin shook him gently, eyes entreating, his words an earnest plea. “Nasir. Malik. I was meant to be with you.”

For endless moments, his dark eyes unreadable, Nasir gazed back at Robin. Robin waited breathlessly, his heart in his throat, until he had all but lost hope. At last, the exotic eyes softened and Nasir dipped his head ever so slightly in acceptance. “Some things are written. Inshallah.”

~End