[ eyelids heavier with fatigue than he’d like, kaz flattens his mouth into a neutral line and rests his pointed jaw on his arm. unseen relief courses through him when nikolai gives up on spiriting them away in the night. however much kaz wants him to ask for things and give them in return, that request chafes against the limit of their mutual trust (presently extending only to the doorway and windowpanes). if nikolai really wants to take him, he’ll ask in the morning — and he won’t ask, which means they can act out this conversation again when nikolai next wanders into his room after dark. the remaining threads between them feel brittle, not elastic.
his hand tightens around the ring, pressing the metal into his palm. ]
[ under his breath, ] It’s not a trap if I can see it. [ if he can see through the fog, it’s an opportunity, a puzzle, a move that can be countered. that is to say, yes, it feels like a trap. it felt like stepping onto the hinge of steel jaws in order to reach nikolai in his room, too, like thinking his reflexes were nimble enough to shield his vitals. a miscalculation. if it isn’t a trap, it’s — well, it would have to be — something real rather than mere convenience and desperation. nikolai is drowning and needs someone to drag him from the depths; that’s all. ] Hm.
[ although he wants to deny the observation, his mind fails to conjure an adequate excuse for why he stalls here, muscles relaxing under nikolai’s ever-shifting fingers, a close-mouthed sigh audible as he scratches the base of his skull. another vulnerable, untouched place, like everywhere nikolai seems enamored with: a familiar bruise already flourishes behind his ear, and his tattoo burns as if inked anew by nikolai’s black-tipped hands. nikolai is still hard against his thigh, a favour unreturned, but he hasn't asked for it. never does.
kaz shutters his eyes, evading scrutiny, until nikolai’s fingers graze his mouth. he knows what that might foretell — the pieces of him that nikolai most likes to touch. after months apart, the fear cuts deeper now than it had at the end, but kaz parts his mouth all the same, lapping at his fingers and nipping at the pad of his thumb when he draws away.
he slips the ring onto his finger so he doesn’t lose it, curling his otherwise bare hand over nikolai’s shoulder to leverage into a deeper kiss, too eager for more. can’t swallow the quiet moan nikolai pulls from him. his silence and scowls mean nothing when he gives in this easily, opening his legs to welcome nikolai’s touch, cock soft, wet and cooling between them. more and less resistance to the intrusion than the last time. not as slick, but not as unprepared, either.
what have you done in this bed? not nothing. ]
Not at first. [ shouldn’t have said that, dangerously close to admitting he couldn’t. he pushes through the nausea and regret, entangling his gut. ] I thought — [ that nikolai would be angrier, that kaz might have lost him forever. i’m done holding your hand reverberated in this cavernous room, every fantasy ruined by the memory of reality. he bends his good knee into the bedspread to improve nikolai’s angle, breath stuttering. maybe nikolai moves so briskly to keep his thoughts from splintering. and maybe that's a decent strategy, after all. ] Never imagined you this penitent, for starters. [ unable to dull his words, even while panting hot into nikolai’s hair. this is penance, isn’t it? ] But I thought of you. You know I did. [ like nikolai knowing could rob his confession of its potency, the same as seeing a trap laid out ahead. anything to make it sound ordinary instead of singular. ] Is this how you thought of me?
[ or did nikolai want him to apologise and beg forgiveness instead? to strangle him so that his poison tongue might never wound him again? ]
no subject
his hand tightens around the ring, pressing the metal into his palm. ]
[ under his breath, ] It’s not a trap if I can see it. [ if he can see through the fog, it’s an opportunity, a puzzle, a move that can be countered. that is to say, yes, it feels like a trap. it felt like stepping onto the hinge of steel jaws in order to reach nikolai in his room, too, like thinking his reflexes were nimble enough to shield his vitals. a miscalculation. if it isn’t a trap, it’s — well, it would have to be — something real rather than mere convenience and desperation. nikolai is drowning and needs someone to drag him from the depths; that’s all. ] Hm.
[ although he wants to deny the observation, his mind fails to conjure an adequate excuse for why he stalls here, muscles relaxing under nikolai’s ever-shifting fingers, a close-mouthed sigh audible as he scratches the base of his skull. another vulnerable, untouched place, like everywhere nikolai seems enamored with: a familiar bruise already flourishes behind his ear, and his tattoo burns as if inked anew by nikolai’s black-tipped hands. nikolai is still hard against his thigh, a favour unreturned, but he hasn't asked for it. never does.
kaz shutters his eyes, evading scrutiny, until nikolai’s fingers graze his mouth. he knows what that might foretell — the pieces of him that nikolai most likes to touch. after months apart, the fear cuts deeper now than it had at the end, but kaz parts his mouth all the same, lapping at his fingers and nipping at the pad of his thumb when he draws away.
he slips the ring onto his finger so he doesn’t lose it, curling his otherwise bare hand over nikolai’s shoulder to leverage into a deeper kiss, too eager for more. can’t swallow the quiet moan nikolai pulls from him. his silence and scowls mean nothing when he gives in this easily, opening his legs to welcome nikolai’s touch, cock soft, wet and cooling between them. more and less resistance to the intrusion than the last time. not as slick, but not as unprepared, either.
what have you done in this bed? not nothing. ]
Not at first. [ shouldn’t have said that, dangerously close to admitting he couldn’t. he pushes through the nausea and regret, entangling his gut. ] I thought — [ that nikolai would be angrier, that kaz might have lost him forever. i’m done holding your hand reverberated in this cavernous room, every fantasy ruined by the memory of reality. he bends his good knee into the bedspread to improve nikolai’s angle, breath stuttering. maybe nikolai moves so briskly to keep his thoughts from splintering. and maybe that's a decent strategy, after all. ] Never imagined you this penitent, for starters. [ unable to dull his words, even while panting hot into nikolai’s hair. this is penance, isn’t it? ] But I thought of you. You know I did. [ like nikolai knowing could rob his confession of its potency, the same as seeing a trap laid out ahead. anything to make it sound ordinary instead of singular. ] Is this how you thought of me?
[ or did nikolai want him to apologise and beg forgiveness instead? to strangle him so that his poison tongue might never wound him again? ]