Well, we certainly can’t have anyone thinking you’re crooked. [ a brief laugh covers his sudden disappointment. does that mean he won’t come? he’s rather attached to the notion of kaz in the palace — in his chambers — despite only having just procured the idea. he does want to coax kaz into a lake somehow, and he wonders if all of ketterdam’s waters are as dirty as its harbors. surely not. kaz squints down at him as nikolai tries to relinquish his foolish wants, the selfish desires of a boy never satisfied, always hungry for more. you’re drunk. everything feels like the end of the world, especially the way kaz’s hand stills in his hair. kaz isn't even asking him proper questions anymore, horrid at this game just like zoya is.
giving up on trying to grasp the bottle, he holds kaz’s gaze instead, letting the words hang between them. i did. much harder to work with than i do. captain ghafa reminds him of dominik, in a way — more violent, to be sure, but good-hearted. dominik had blossomed from frightened to resolute, and though ravka may have bled him of his optimism, he retained the honor that nikolai has watched fall away from so many others. he lost his a lifetime ago, abandoned by the wayside when he realized he'd pull any dirty trick he needed to in order to rescue his country from his family. the wraith has it, too. honor. maybe it's why he wasn't allowed to keep dominik at his side. maybe it's why kaz isn't with her, either.
kaz's grip slides down to cradle the base of his skull, a curious thing if he's not going to — oh. he is going to. he wants to close his eyes, to turn away from his words, and kaz somehow seems to know that, too. maybe he's getting predictable in his misery — a misery that kaz makes him forget, and then reminds him of just as quickly. he can't have this. maybe the heart will give him a moment of respite, but it can't last. he's realized now that the darkling's curse is as timeless as the man himself. there is no breaking it.
it's you i wish to steal for myself. the words loop through his mind as his heart leaps into his throat. why is he making this real? as if it wasn't real before. he's rising to kiss him before he can think to stop, meeting the press of his mouth, the sweetness of brandy on his lips. has kaz kissed him first before? he doesn't remember. all of their kisses bleed together, the way his stomach drops with the sweet ache of longing, somehow both reckless and careful at once with the way he handles him — reckless in how he pushes him, careful not to tip him over into waters too deep to fish him out of. (reckless in that too, sometimes.) ]
What do you have against easy, Brekker? [ a quiet murmur, muffled into a kiss. it's always like this. once he starts kissing him he can't stop, never wants to stop. it's the only right thing that happens lately. the only time he ever feels good is when he's with him. he strains higher, a warm, clumsy hand coming to settle at kaz's cheek as he seeks more of his mouth, more of this fleeting bliss even as he reminds himself that he can't stay. an ache pulses in his chest, his fingers curling into the soft fall of kaz's hair as a tremor grips his bones. regret. no, he doesn't regret this, will never regret this. his heartbeat is just rapid again, his breath growing short. his body rebelling against the poison he feeds it each night.
he presses into the kiss for a moment longer before breaking away, this time successful when he reaches for the bottle, liquid sloshing in a messy swallow. with some effort, he reorients himself. back to the wall, the bottle loosely held in the fork of his thighs. he's here again and kaz is there. no good. setting the drink aside, he winds an arm around kaz's waist and hauls him rather ungracefully into the space between his legs instead. it feels a little like moving a stray cat that doesn't want to be moved. probably could have just asked him to come closer. ]
Come to Ravka with me. [ a hushed appeal as he fits his chin in the slot of his good shoulder, warm breath soaking into his dark hair. he closes his eyes, gently brushing a kiss to the shell of his ear. it feels like the first time all over again, kaz bleeding in his bed, somehow compelled to offer up a secret that nikolai could never have known would change everything. stay with me just a little while longer. it's the same even now. ] I hear Sturmhond is quite good at smuggling in precious cargo, and I promise no one will draft you into any untimely wars. I just want a handful of days with you. Just you. I haven't been able to be selfish in so long, not in this way, and I'm rather taken with the notion of just being ordinary for a moment.
[ a handful of days to say goodbye. he draws in a tight breath, then pushes the thought from his mind, a grin at his lips as he tilts kaz's face toward his. ] Will you allow me to show you what I can do as an ordinary man? Not a king, not a captain, but just someone who wants to whisk a boy he fancies off to a land that doesn't smell like people piss regularly in the streets? At least the palace doesn't smell that way. Can't say the same for our neighboring cities, but nothing is perfect, nothing except for me and my face.
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giving up on trying to grasp the bottle, he holds kaz’s gaze instead, letting the words hang between them. i did. much harder to work with than i do. captain ghafa reminds him of dominik, in a way — more violent, to be sure, but good-hearted. dominik had blossomed from frightened to resolute, and though ravka may have bled him of his optimism, he retained the honor that nikolai has watched fall away from so many others. he lost his a lifetime ago, abandoned by the wayside when he realized he'd pull any dirty trick he needed to in order to rescue his country from his family. the wraith has it, too. honor. maybe it's why he wasn't allowed to keep dominik at his side. maybe it's why kaz isn't with her, either.
kaz's grip slides down to cradle the base of his skull, a curious thing if he's not going to — oh. he is going to. he wants to close his eyes, to turn away from his words, and kaz somehow seems to know that, too. maybe he's getting predictable in his misery — a misery that kaz makes him forget, and then reminds him of just as quickly. he can't have this. maybe the heart will give him a moment of respite, but it can't last. he's realized now that the darkling's curse is as timeless as the man himself. there is no breaking it.
it's you i wish to steal for myself. the words loop through his mind as his heart leaps into his throat. why is he making this real? as if it wasn't real before. he's rising to kiss him before he can think to stop, meeting the press of his mouth, the sweetness of brandy on his lips. has kaz kissed him first before? he doesn't remember. all of their kisses bleed together, the way his stomach drops with the sweet ache of longing, somehow both reckless and careful at once with the way he handles him — reckless in how he pushes him, careful not to tip him over into waters too deep to fish him out of. (reckless in that too, sometimes.) ]
What do you have against easy, Brekker? [ a quiet murmur, muffled into a kiss. it's always like this. once he starts kissing him he can't stop, never wants to stop. it's the only right thing that happens lately. the only time he ever feels good is when he's with him. he strains higher, a warm, clumsy hand coming to settle at kaz's cheek as he seeks more of his mouth, more of this fleeting bliss even as he reminds himself that he can't stay. an ache pulses in his chest, his fingers curling into the soft fall of kaz's hair as a tremor grips his bones. regret. no, he doesn't regret this, will never regret this. his heartbeat is just rapid again, his breath growing short. his body rebelling against the poison he feeds it each night.
he presses into the kiss for a moment longer before breaking away, this time successful when he reaches for the bottle, liquid sloshing in a messy swallow. with some effort, he reorients himself. back to the wall, the bottle loosely held in the fork of his thighs. he's here again and kaz is there. no good. setting the drink aside, he winds an arm around kaz's waist and hauls him rather ungracefully into the space between his legs instead. it feels a little like moving a stray cat that doesn't want to be moved. probably could have just asked him to come closer. ]
Come to Ravka with me. [ a hushed appeal as he fits his chin in the slot of his good shoulder, warm breath soaking into his dark hair. he closes his eyes, gently brushing a kiss to the shell of his ear. it feels like the first time all over again, kaz bleeding in his bed, somehow compelled to offer up a secret that nikolai could never have known would change everything. stay with me just a little while longer. it's the same even now. ] I hear Sturmhond is quite good at smuggling in precious cargo, and I promise no one will draft you into any untimely wars. I just want a handful of days with you. Just you. I haven't been able to be selfish in so long, not in this way, and I'm rather taken with the notion of just being ordinary for a moment.
[ a handful of days to say goodbye. he draws in a tight breath, then pushes the thought from his mind, a grin at his lips as he tilts kaz's face toward his. ] Will you allow me to show you what I can do as an ordinary man? Not a king, not a captain, but just someone who wants to whisk a boy he fancies off to a land that doesn't smell like people piss regularly in the streets? At least the palace doesn't smell that way. Can't say the same for our neighboring cities, but nothing is perfect, nothing except for me and my face.