[ it’s utterly fascinating, watching kaz devolve into jagged edges and scorching fury. is this what his enemies see before their deaths? lucky them. nikolai doesn’t move when kaz straddles him, when he chokes him, when he contemplates bloody murder — mostly because he can’t, but he wouldn’t even if he could. and miss this? never. yes, he wants to say, push harder. break and break again. that’s where you’ll find your will.

kaz is going to kill him. no. he’s never felt more content, alight with pain but with it comes the thrum of life. a safe place to land. the demon is coiled and settled, heeled at last, even if it might be temporary. they’re alive. the most infuriating reaction — his mouth pulls into a bloody grin, kaz’s hand like fire at his jaw. the vast sky above them and yet he only sees the one in kaz’s eyes. he is not so foolish to think that he will never feel death’s pull again, something that has only gotten worse with age — guilt, duty, expectation splintering his nerves into begging for an end to it all — but here in this moment, he’s thrilled to be alive. he is thrilled to have kaz in his face snarling like a feral animal.

and then he’s closer, wild blue eyes roaming over him like he holds the answers to all the questions he’s not asking. nikolai’s breath catches. closer, still. he means to do it, he thinks, abruptly realizing how desperately he wants this — this closeness, this connection, something to tether him here when he loses the battle against himself. he needs this. kaz is not the only one in crisis here.

saltwater and blood fill his senses when their mouths collide, only this time it’s not tinged with grief, with regret, with goodbye. it feels like a door to some vast unknown. it’s the answer to this question. ]

Everything. [ what does he want? the answer has always been the same, a thread of consistency uniting the many personalities and faces that make up nikolai lantsov. he arches into the kiss despite his pinned hands, despite the ache dancing across his ribs, and he groans it out again against kaz’s warming lips, everything, because he needs him to hear it. needs him to know that he will not be satisfied with just pieces of him, will not be fed scraps at this table.

it pulls painfully at his chest to be so alive, aching with want, pulsing with need, the sweetest sort of hurts. he tries to draw in a breath. ]

All the parts of you that have seen the light. All the parts that haven’t. That can’t. That will. [ breathless words stolen between kisses, like he can’t stop for even a moment. ] There is a need inside of you and I mean to draw it out. Weeks, months, years. It doesn’t matter how long it takes or how halting this progress. You would have walked away if you didn’t want this thing inside of you met. And I —

[ the hitch in his breath again. kaz has seen him at his worst, again and again, and he has not turned away. he should tell him to. make him. spare him the tragedy of something broken and burned out. he might yet still, but now he strains for his mouth again, unsteady. ]

You were all that kept me here today. [ how weak can he be? there is always further to fall. you kept me. their lips catch and hold around something he’s never spoken aloud before, unbefitting of a king. you told him months ago. he knows. a breath tumbles out of him, his hand flexing where kaz has it pinned down. push, just a little more. ] Do you think I would ask for more than you can give? Are you afraid that there isn’t enough? Tell me now. Tell me it’s too much. Tell me you don’t want this. Say it.