[ he's not expecting more, not in such wide open view, not when kaz has a reputation to maintain — but perhaps that's part of the draw of taking a city by force. he can do these things. it's not as if this is a declaration of two lovers, the thing nikolai wants to steer clear of to avoid giving kaz's enemies a weapon to use against him. he didn't come here to get caught in the crossfire of ketterdam's gang wars. but when kaz pulls him closer than he anticipated, his mouth roaming along his throat to press to the thrum of his pulse, it puts a crack in his plan to remain glib and unaffected by all of this.

his eyes flutter open briefly at the request, another surprise. can't answer because they're kissing now, igniting a perilous need that nikolai desperately needs to throw dirt on. his breath stutters when kaz's fingers wrap firmly around his cock, his hips pushing into his touch as he sheds his remaining glove so he can sneak his fingers beneath kaz’s rucked up shirt, grazing lines of muscle. his teal coat falls down his shoulders when kaz pushes it away, revealing a frilly white shirt of a fabric far too fine for an average pirate, a collection of gold around his neck. kaz’s lips travel across his cheek, warm breath at his ear, the granite rasp of his voice sending a shudder through him. in my bed. finally. heat flushes his face, his cock twitching in his grip. ]

I suppose I have no other obligations tonight. [ spine arching, he brings a hand up to slide through kaz’s neat hair, watching stray locks fall loose beneath his careless touch. everything you have is worth taking. a breathless scoff, his eyes trailing to the window. doesn’t know if it’s true, doesn’t know if it’s good or terrible to hear it. his mind is stuck on kaz’s bed anyway, on the thought of being in it, touching kaz in it. a place he must have believed would only ever occupy one person. the dwindling light casts a fiery glow across kaz’s pale skin. a kiss in the ketterdam sunset. nikolai steals another, the desperate slide of their mouths, a soft groan rising in his throat. his hips urge closer, fingers gripping the sill behind kaz’s head as he pushes into kaz’s hand, wanting more, needing it in a way he’s kept buried but now is being steadily unearthed by the rapid unraveling of his life. ]

Yes. [ breathless agreement for all kaz offers. the magnitude that any of it is being offered at all isn’t lost on him. ] Yes, I’ll go. As your date. To your bed. Anywhere. I want — [ everything, all of it. so much that there’s no way anyone can fill the gaping emptiness inside of him left by the loss of his country. he thinks of the guest suite in the palace, how empty it had been, no trace that kaz had ever set foot inside. it stings even now, makes his grip tighten on his shirt, his teeth scraping along the side of kaz’s throat as he hisses in a quivering breath. ] I want you. [ his thighs tighten, throat bobbing as he swallows down a whimper. ] Have you ever… [ of course he hasn’t. another rush of breath, eyes pressing shut. ] I want you to fuck me, Brekker. In your bed. Tonight, or — any night, it doesn’t… doesn’t matter, I just — need you. I need you.

[ his mind grinds to a halt. how is he meant to share his bed, when his nightmares have only gotten worse, when he can’t sleep without binding himself — what is he asking for, what is he agreeing to? his hips jerk into kaz’s hand, pleasure cutting into him, drowning out the sudden noise in his head, the panic that wants to surface. a muffled gasp escapes his lips as he ruts helplessly against him, a whine in his throat, his blackened fingers clenching tighter at the window. he should move back, make an attempt at propriety, but nothing could make him want to leave the circle of kaz’s arms, a rush of heat rising to meet him. the wood splinters suddenly beneath his grip when he comes, his teeth sinking into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

his hand slides away from the sill, his taut muscles growing slack as shivers dance over his skin. leans in for a breathless kiss, blood smearing across kaz’s mouth, then rests their foreheads together, panting softly. he flexes his hand down at kaz’s side, sharp fingertips slowly disappearing. ]

You need a tailor in your employ. [ as if it’s a simple matter to find a good tailor. none would compare to genya anyway. ] Sturmhond doesn’t mind a rugged appearance, but Nikolai prefers a more polished look. I’m parched, Brekker. I’m ready for a rambunctious party and my fine brandy.