[ excuses litter the space between them, but kaz doesn't pull away — almost pulls closer instead, his hands finding purchase at his hips, maneuvering their bodies until nikolai feels the press of the bed behind his knees. his heart stutters with impossibilities, caught in the net of his wants. it would easy to be reckless in this moment, to toss reason and care to the wind, but the aftermath would be a brutal, ugly thing, more cracks in the fragmented pieces of what has become of them. how many times can he reel kaz in just to cast him back out before he stops coming entirely?
no, he won't. he'll stick to his plan and let kaz turn up his nose at his selfless consideration for his health. there are far more selfish — and stupid — reasons at play, but he doesn't have to give voice to them. there's risk involved in everything. he'll be careful. no skin contact unless absolutely necessary. ]
You can hardly expect me to take up residence in the Barrel. The beds are far too small, and the water is hazardous for swimming. [ he tilts his head, smiling, eyes flickering briefly to the sutures above his brow. ] Tell me, is there a place I can go where you don't have enemies? You're very good at irritating people into wanting to murder you.
[ his hands resume the work of stripping his vest off, throat bobbing in a swallow, a shock of reddish-gold hair falling into his eyes as he concentrates on the buttons. he's dressed casually himself, the sleeves of his cream shirt pulled up, dark brown trousers cuffed at the ankle as if he already went wandering in the water earlier in the day. a tiny notebook peeks out of his pocket, bits of paper haphazardly stuck inside, a pen tucked beside it that looks like it may spill ink over his clothes at any moment. he's taken to scrawling down dreams and thoughts that don't feel like his own, memories that come to him unbidden, flashes of yearning and the strange desires that he wants to pin down as the demon's and not his own. kaz's name appears in it more than anyone else's. sometimes he reads it back to himself and it chills him to know he wrote any of it at all.
the vest slides down kaz's shoulders, and nikolai resists the urge to go rooting through his pockets to see what might be hidden there. weapons, jewels, magic. he never knows with kaz. his gloved hand lingers a moment at the small of his back. ] Well, if you go into the water kicking like a damned mule like you usually tend to do, you'll almost certainly worsen your injury. I was thinking perhaps I could teach you a gentler method. The whole idea is to take some of the stress off your leg. [ his vest rustles to the floor, nikolai's palms briefly wandering along kaz's sides, his crisp shirt tucked neatly into his trousers. ] And if you don't trust the water enough to let yourself go in it, then trust me. I won't let you go.
[ their faces are too close. his heart is too close. nikolai wants to open his collar and see if the scratches at his collarbone left marks behind, but he pulls back delicately instead, pacing to his desk to gaze through the open window, the taste of blood in his mouth as he runs his tongue along his teeth. he picks up a glass of wine that he suspects he poured at least a day and a half ago and swallows down the dregs. ]
I bought a boat. [ he turns, bright smile back in place. ] A sailboat. She's cozy. Made for nothing but lazy days drifting at sea. I packed some things on her already — some spare clothes, fresh dressings for your leg, some very warm blankets some poor furry things died for. We'll go far from the neighborhoods so we'll have privacy. You can't sneak up on people on the open waters unless you happen to have a submersible invented by the former king of Ravka, and none of them were made available to your criminal ilk here in Ketterdam. I won't bring the hat, but I can be coerced to change my mind if you insist on being rude about it. Dimitri bought it for me. Not by choice, mind you, but I think he did an exceptional job at understanding Sturmhond's specific sense of style. So, what do you say? [ he leans his hip against the desk, swaths of warm sunlight silhouetting him as his eyes turn hopeful. ] Please say yes. I've been looking forward to seeing you frown at me all day.
no subject
no, he won't. he'll stick to his plan and let kaz turn up his nose at his selfless consideration for his health. there are far more selfish — and stupid — reasons at play, but he doesn't have to give voice to them. there's risk involved in everything. he'll be careful. no skin contact unless absolutely necessary. ]
You can hardly expect me to take up residence in the Barrel. The beds are far too small, and the water is hazardous for swimming. [ he tilts his head, smiling, eyes flickering briefly to the sutures above his brow. ] Tell me, is there a place I can go where you don't have enemies? You're very good at irritating people into wanting to murder you.
[ his hands resume the work of stripping his vest off, throat bobbing in a swallow, a shock of reddish-gold hair falling into his eyes as he concentrates on the buttons. he's dressed casually himself, the sleeves of his cream shirt pulled up, dark brown trousers cuffed at the ankle as if he already went wandering in the water earlier in the day. a tiny notebook peeks out of his pocket, bits of paper haphazardly stuck inside, a pen tucked beside it that looks like it may spill ink over his clothes at any moment. he's taken to scrawling down dreams and thoughts that don't feel like his own, memories that come to him unbidden, flashes of yearning and the strange desires that he wants to pin down as the demon's and not his own. kaz's name appears in it more than anyone else's. sometimes he reads it back to himself and it chills him to know he wrote any of it at all.
the vest slides down kaz's shoulders, and nikolai resists the urge to go rooting through his pockets to see what might be hidden there. weapons, jewels, magic. he never knows with kaz. his gloved hand lingers a moment at the small of his back. ] Well, if you go into the water kicking like a damned mule like you usually tend to do, you'll almost certainly worsen your injury. I was thinking perhaps I could teach you a gentler method. The whole idea is to take some of the stress off your leg. [ his vest rustles to the floor, nikolai's palms briefly wandering along kaz's sides, his crisp shirt tucked neatly into his trousers. ] And if you don't trust the water enough to let yourself go in it, then trust me. I won't let you go.
[ their faces are too close. his heart is too close. nikolai wants to open his collar and see if the scratches at his collarbone left marks behind, but he pulls back delicately instead, pacing to his desk to gaze through the open window, the taste of blood in his mouth as he runs his tongue along his teeth. he picks up a glass of wine that he suspects he poured at least a day and a half ago and swallows down the dregs. ]
I bought a boat. [ he turns, bright smile back in place. ] A sailboat. She's cozy. Made for nothing but lazy days drifting at sea. I packed some things on her already — some spare clothes, fresh dressings for your leg, some very warm blankets some poor furry things died for. We'll go far from the neighborhoods so we'll have privacy. You can't sneak up on people on the open waters unless you happen to have a submersible invented by the former king of Ravka, and none of them were made available to your criminal ilk here in Ketterdam. I won't bring the hat, but I can be coerced to change my mind if you insist on being rude about it. Dimitri bought it for me. Not by choice, mind you, but I think he did an exceptional job at understanding Sturmhond's specific sense of style. So, what do you say? [ he leans his hip against the desk, swaths of warm sunlight silhouetting him as his eyes turn hopeful. ] Please say yes. I've been looking forward to seeing you frown at me all day.