[ he sweeps his hand up nikolai's spine and digs it back into his shoulder, fingers curling and unfurling. a sound escapes like he's had the wind knocked out of him, and he has, all the thoughts cleared to make way for the barely restrained buck of his hips. the tension dissipates from his body, rolling from his shoulders down to his calves, enveloped by nikolai’s attention. jaw set in determination, he cracks his eyes so he can see exactly what he asked for, even if it means seeing nikolai curiously earnest in all this. and lovely, like always. once nikolai’s off, sure fingers sliding fast and easy down his length, kaz hears himself cry out twice before the muscles of his stomach tense. his gasps soften after that, half-lost in kisses to nikolai's temple, his cheek, anywhere he can reach.
awed that nikolai gave him everything he wanted for once, knocked stupid by his feverish kiss, absorbed in the mess made of himself and his borrowed bed — he shouldn't be surprised by how fluent nikolai is in his wants, but there's nuance in the translation and interpretation that no one else has ever managed. it takes him too long to catch up to where nikolai sprints ahead. don’t shut me out. his brow creases as he processes the dawning horror on nikolai’s face, the shake in his singed fingers, and the tendrils cracking his cheeks. can’t find the words to explain himself, possibilities violently swinging between revealing and evasive. none prove worthy of answering the tender way nikolai pushes back his hair and looks at him like he can't believe he's there.
then, nikolai’s gone.
the sudden distance reminds him that nikolai is often lost in his own head, unsure of what parts and words are real even more so than kaz, and that he struggles to anchor himself in the present just the same. the difference is that while kaz loses himself in the same halls and rooms — and can thus find his way back — nikolai keeps building new paths. stairs that lead nowhere, doors that open into nothing. it makes him harder to find than anyone kaz has ever known, but perhaps he’s getting better at giving chase. hitched up on his elbows, he watches nikolai’s shoulders lift on uneven breaths. his words could mean various things, uttered so quietly he can’t be sure he heard them right.
still, one truth supersedes all others: there’s nowhere but here. your shadow follows you everywhere you go and grows when you do wrong. ]
[ mildly, though his voice aches from overuse. ] If I were shutting you out, [ kaz swings his legs over the other side of the bed, extending the right to test the stretch of the muscle. sore in a less pleasant way than the rest of him, but that’s to be expected. ] I’d have thrown you off the bed the second you sat down.
[ the night air cools his damp skin without nikolai’s heat guarding him against it. he supposes he isn’t letting nikolai close the way he did before, but how can he? kaz rises to his feet and limps to the washroom, the sound of running water echoing in his grand rooms. in moments, he returns wearing the clothes he’d stripped off before bed that night, trousers wrinkled and shirt unbuttoned, tie loose at his neck. leaning against the open doorframe of the connecting room, he looks more spectre than man.
for his part, nikolai looks, well, somewhere between debauched and haunted, which sparks opposing instincts in his brain. slowly, he pushes himself off the wall and draws toward where nikolai sits. ]
It’s a nice night for a walk. [ tipping his head to one side and then the other, as he considers the obstacles for that proposition. ] Provided you won’t fly away. [ a beat. ] And you don’t mind black. [ borrowing his clothes so they don’t have to venture back to nikolai's chambers or alert any watchers to their activities. it’s no journey to a secret laboratory, but it’s a sign of trust, of care, of whatever they might still have slipping under his armour. when they’re close enough to touch, a glimmer of hesitancy sneaks into his slanted gaze, blue eyes almost black in the dark. prepared for nikolai to shudder into a slouching, screeching thing, with knives up his sleeves and hands flexed. could block the first strike and only sacrifice his arm to the creature that’s not quite nikolai. or nikolai could bolt past him and slip through his fingers once again. he clears his throat. ] I’m not an easy person to… [ want, love, know in any capacity. however little or much nikolai feels for him, it’s not a simple thing to manage. he swallows, throat bobbing. the bruise on his neck twinges, muscle memory. ] But you — you’re closer than you think. [ a little intake of breath. he holds up one hand, ring balanced delicately on the tip of his finger, and then extends the other, palm open to take nikolai’s and return the gift, if he’ll allow it. ]
no subject
awed that nikolai gave him everything he wanted for once, knocked stupid by his feverish kiss, absorbed in the mess made of himself and his borrowed bed — he shouldn't be surprised by how fluent nikolai is in his wants, but there's nuance in the translation and interpretation that no one else has ever managed. it takes him too long to catch up to where nikolai sprints ahead. don’t shut me out. his brow creases as he processes the dawning horror on nikolai’s face, the shake in his singed fingers, and the tendrils cracking his cheeks. can’t find the words to explain himself, possibilities violently swinging between revealing and evasive. none prove worthy of answering the tender way nikolai pushes back his hair and looks at him like he can't believe he's there.
then, nikolai’s gone.
the sudden distance reminds him that nikolai is often lost in his own head, unsure of what parts and words are real even more so than kaz, and that he struggles to anchor himself in the present just the same. the difference is that while kaz loses himself in the same halls and rooms — and can thus find his way back — nikolai keeps building new paths. stairs that lead nowhere, doors that open into nothing. it makes him harder to find than anyone kaz has ever known, but perhaps he’s getting better at giving chase. hitched up on his elbows, he watches nikolai’s shoulders lift on uneven breaths. his words could mean various things, uttered so quietly he can’t be sure he heard them right.
still, one truth supersedes all others: there’s nowhere but here. your shadow follows you everywhere you go and grows when you do wrong. ]
[ mildly, though his voice aches from overuse. ] If I were shutting you out, [ kaz swings his legs over the other side of the bed, extending the right to test the stretch of the muscle. sore in a less pleasant way than the rest of him, but that’s to be expected. ] I’d have thrown you off the bed the second you sat down.
[ the night air cools his damp skin without nikolai’s heat guarding him against it. he supposes he isn’t letting nikolai close the way he did before, but how can he? kaz rises to his feet and limps to the washroom, the sound of running water echoing in his grand rooms. in moments, he returns wearing the clothes he’d stripped off before bed that night, trousers wrinkled and shirt unbuttoned, tie loose at his neck. leaning against the open doorframe of the connecting room, he looks more spectre than man.
for his part, nikolai looks, well, somewhere between debauched and haunted, which sparks opposing instincts in his brain. slowly, he pushes himself off the wall and draws toward where nikolai sits. ]
It’s a nice night for a walk. [ tipping his head to one side and then the other, as he considers the obstacles for that proposition. ] Provided you won’t fly away. [ a beat. ] And you don’t mind black. [ borrowing his clothes so they don’t have to venture back to nikolai's chambers or alert any watchers to their activities. it’s no journey to a secret laboratory, but it’s a sign of trust, of care, of whatever they might still have slipping under his armour. when they’re close enough to touch, a glimmer of hesitancy sneaks into his slanted gaze, blue eyes almost black in the dark. prepared for nikolai to shudder into a slouching, screeching thing, with knives up his sleeves and hands flexed. could block the first strike and only sacrifice his arm to the creature that’s not quite nikolai. or nikolai could bolt past him and slip through his fingers once again. he clears his throat. ] I’m not an easy person to… [ want, love, know in any capacity. however little or much nikolai feels for him, it’s not a simple thing to manage. he swallows, throat bobbing. the bruise on his neck twinges, muscle memory. ] But you — you’re closer than you think. [ a little intake of breath. he holds up one hand, ring balanced delicately on the tip of his finger, and then extends the other, palm open to take nikolai’s and return the gift, if he’ll allow it. ]