[ a smile quirks at his lips, his eyes brightening despite kaz eagerly signing off on his own deathwish. kaz has shared more than he deserves about his life, but largely about the bad, the things and people he's lost. he knows very little about his day-to-day and the years that led to it. he isn't sure how one steals jewels straight from someone's neck in a crowded room, but it reminds him that for all the things that kaz has not been able to bring himself to do, there are a hundred other things that nikolai could never hope to pull off. talented hands. ]
Perhaps I should hide one in my mouth for the express purpose of stealing. [ kissing kaz brekker in the little palace should not be so high on his list of priorities, and yet it is. kaz might have some qualms about his reputation, but nikolai certainly doesn't, having long since let those go. there's little damage control to be done after public outing himself as a bastard and a monster, and abdication, he can reluctantly admit, has come with its fair share of perks.
like this. the pad of kaz's finger sending shivery curls of pleasure through him. how has he never noticed the peculiar softness of his nimble hands? kaz has touched him before, to be sure, but not like this. not with so much intent, with so little distraction. not with nikolai graciously keeping so still, a feat he hopes kaz knows does not come easy to him. but there is some appeal in this stillness, a heightened sense of feeling. something new. something he's never stopped to allow himself to experience before. think about you all the time. does he? his eyes slide shut, his breath spooling out of him as his cock twitches in his trousers. ]
I think of you, too. [ barely a whisper. his hips nudge gently against kaz's mouth when he makes contact before he settles, stained fingertips rising to card through his dark hair. hazy eyes look down, kaz's pale skin standing out against his sunkissed tan, and nikolai thumbs at the buttons of kaz's shirt, letting it fall open, the fabric gliding down his skin. kaz is all hard lines and lean muscle, tattoos stark, scar tissue glinting in the light. he wants to tip him onto his back, to crush their mouths together, to trace the inside of his thighs with his tongue, but he forces his mind to still, cupping the nape of kaz's neck to keep the warmth of his tongue pressed to the tender bud of his nipple, a breathy groan in his throat.
he's always been a giver, and when he's in the mood for receiving it tends to be a rough, chaotic thing. not like this. it strikes him that no one has ever given to him quite like this before, with such careful motions and rapt attention to his body. his fingertips touch the edges of the dressings on kaz's shoulder, hiding the festering wound beneath. he hasn't complained about it, hasn't even mentioned it without nikolai's prompting. such care with his body when nikolai has been so reckless with his. he traces the bruises down his back with a feather-light touch. ]
But I've never thought of this. [ something too quiet for his unquiet mind to cobble together. ] You touching me this way. Many other ways. Just not this one.
[ he pulls kaz's shirt away, letting it slip to the floor, his fingers roaming along his skin — less teasing and more adoring, lingering over his scars and tracing lines of muscle as if he's committing them to memory. his touch winds up back at his face, nuzzling gently at his cheek and then combing through his hair, want making his fingers unsteady. kaz's breath against his wet skin sends a shiver racing down his spine. it's so little and so much at once, his mind trying to make sense of how this can have such an effect on him. he wants to say something, to demand another truth, but all that comes out is a quiet moan, his fingers skimming desperately over the small of kaz's back, trying to pull him closer. ]
Please. [ he is not one to beg, but the word comes out like it belongs there. please what? kiss me touch me have me. ] I want you. I — Kaz — please. I want you more than anything.
no subject
Perhaps I should hide one in my mouth for the express purpose of stealing. [ kissing kaz brekker in the little palace should not be so high on his list of priorities, and yet it is. kaz might have some qualms about his reputation, but nikolai certainly doesn't, having long since let those go. there's little damage control to be done after public outing himself as a bastard and a monster, and abdication, he can reluctantly admit, has come with its fair share of perks.
like this. the pad of kaz's finger sending shivery curls of pleasure through him. how has he never noticed the peculiar softness of his nimble hands? kaz has touched him before, to be sure, but not like this. not with so much intent, with so little distraction. not with nikolai graciously keeping so still, a feat he hopes kaz knows does not come easy to him. but there is some appeal in this stillness, a heightened sense of feeling. something new. something he's never stopped to allow himself to experience before. think about you all the time. does he? his eyes slide shut, his breath spooling out of him as his cock twitches in his trousers. ]
I think of you, too. [ barely a whisper. his hips nudge gently against kaz's mouth when he makes contact before he settles, stained fingertips rising to card through his dark hair. hazy eyes look down, kaz's pale skin standing out against his sunkissed tan, and nikolai thumbs at the buttons of kaz's shirt, letting it fall open, the fabric gliding down his skin. kaz is all hard lines and lean muscle, tattoos stark, scar tissue glinting in the light. he wants to tip him onto his back, to crush their mouths together, to trace the inside of his thighs with his tongue, but he forces his mind to still, cupping the nape of kaz's neck to keep the warmth of his tongue pressed to the tender bud of his nipple, a breathy groan in his throat.
he's always been a giver, and when he's in the mood for receiving it tends to be a rough, chaotic thing. not like this. it strikes him that no one has ever given to him quite like this before, with such careful motions and rapt attention to his body. his fingertips touch the edges of the dressings on kaz's shoulder, hiding the festering wound beneath. he hasn't complained about it, hasn't even mentioned it without nikolai's prompting. such care with his body when nikolai has been so reckless with his. he traces the bruises down his back with a feather-light touch. ]
But I've never thought of this. [ something too quiet for his unquiet mind to cobble together. ] You touching me this way. Many other ways. Just not this one.
[ he pulls kaz's shirt away, letting it slip to the floor, his fingers roaming along his skin — less teasing and more adoring, lingering over his scars and tracing lines of muscle as if he's committing them to memory. his touch winds up back at his face, nuzzling gently at his cheek and then combing through his hair, want making his fingers unsteady. kaz's breath against his wet skin sends a shiver racing down his spine. it's so little and so much at once, his mind trying to make sense of how this can have such an effect on him. he wants to say something, to demand another truth, but all that comes out is a quiet moan, his fingers skimming desperately over the small of kaz's back, trying to pull him closer. ]
Please. [ he is not one to beg, but the word comes out like it belongs there. please what? kiss me touch me have me. ] I want you. I — Kaz — please. I want you more than anything.