[ the parting blow never lands. nikolai guides his face forward and kaz follows. an instinct learned in that time of trust between them. in the soft cup of nikolai’s palm, he feels keenly aware of the hard, sharp angle of his jaw. his hand slides down nikolai’s shoulder blade, resting above his spine. you want him still. a desire that engulfs his sense of self-preservation and leaves him exposed, ready to be wounded. if no amount of time or hurt will rid him of it, that leaves distance as his only solution. in his mind’s eye, he can see the precise slashes that might end this: dropping his hands, pulling away, and rejecting that fantasy once and for all. that path is clearer than any taken with nikolai, which would carry him out to sea. he’s already unmoored, watching for nikolai’s tell instead of countering preemptively.
at close range, the light illuminates barely a sketch of nikolai’s features, with the details shaded in with memory. and therefore unreliable, the same as any prediction based on the man he thinks he knows. every second that passes is another opportunity for nikolai to turn again, a flip of the coin between his fingers. kaz squares his shoulders and drops his hands. someone has to go first.
don’t go yet stalls his movements — a natural partner to his request that nikolai stay — but it’s the uncertain confession after that pulls him closer. it surprises him more that nikolai admits to wanting love than that he wants it all. the self-flattery has always read as both invitation and savvy construction.
did kaz’s scowls and silence in the last few days bother him? that could be why nikolai sought his favour in the first place, the thrill of being liked by the one who hates all else and solving the puzzle of his person.
a tip of his head bumps their noses, blood rushing to his cheeks. he doubts nikolai expects him to help win love, having so rarely desired or received it. the most affection anyone feels for him now is loyalty, surely. nikolai will have to trudge that uneasy road alone. but he won’t. or can’t. doesn’t want to. already, kaz’s gears turn and turn, trying to solve this despite the din rising in his skull. (nikolai’s hand on his face, his mouth a breath away from a kiss, the heat contaminating his skin).
he knows nikolai no longer wants to try. he knows. he knows, but every time he hears it, thinks it, perceives it — it’s too much. ]
So take it. [ the gruff voice he knows to be his own, even as it says things he hasn’t planned. ] Take the time. [ time to hook his fingers into the nearest available anchor. and if that’s you? a tremor cuts down his back. if either of them have any sense, it won’t be. ] Start with what you want. [ time with him, his people’s love; the former of which seems more unreal than the latter. ] Go from there.
[ kaz leans to press their lips together, over so quick that his features open in surprise that it happened at all. his eyes dart over the bow of nikolai’s mouth before he shuts them, the dark expanse of the harbour stretching out before him. it’s not just want. it’s the other thing. the pounding in his chest that drowns out the waves.
he closes his fist in the collar of nikolai’s robe and surges forward into a kiss. ]
no subject
at close range, the light illuminates barely a sketch of nikolai’s features, with the details shaded in with memory. and therefore unreliable, the same as any prediction based on the man he thinks he knows. every second that passes is another opportunity for nikolai to turn again, a flip of the coin between his fingers. kaz squares his shoulders and drops his hands. someone has to go first.
don’t go yet stalls his movements — a natural partner to his request that nikolai stay — but it’s the uncertain confession after that pulls him closer. it surprises him more that nikolai admits to wanting love than that he wants it all. the self-flattery has always read as both invitation and savvy construction.
did kaz’s scowls and silence in the last few days bother him? that could be why nikolai sought his favour in the first place, the thrill of being liked by the one who hates all else and solving the puzzle of his person.
a tip of his head bumps their noses, blood rushing to his cheeks. he doubts nikolai expects him to help win love, having so rarely desired or received it. the most affection anyone feels for him now is loyalty, surely. nikolai will have to trudge that uneasy road alone. but he won’t. or can’t. doesn’t want to. already, kaz’s gears turn and turn, trying to solve this despite the din rising in his skull. (nikolai’s hand on his face, his mouth a breath away from a kiss, the heat contaminating his skin).
he knows nikolai no longer wants to try. he knows. he knows, but every time he hears it, thinks it, perceives it — it’s too much. ]
So take it. [ the gruff voice he knows to be his own, even as it says things he hasn’t planned. ] Take the time. [ time to hook his fingers into the nearest available anchor. and if that’s you? a tremor cuts down his back. if either of them have any sense, it won’t be. ] Start with what you want. [ time with him, his people’s love; the former of which seems more unreal than the latter. ] Go from there.
[ kaz leans to press their lips together, over so quick that his features open in surprise that it happened at all. his eyes dart over the bow of nikolai’s mouth before he shuts them, the dark expanse of the harbour stretching out before him. it’s not just want. it’s the other thing. the pounding in his chest that drowns out the waves.
he closes his fist in the collar of nikolai’s robe and surges forward into a kiss. ]