[ it’s almost compelling to watch nikolai’s mouth twist into a off-kilter expression. is it the darkling’s lingering presence, or does the creature truly have a mind of its own, born of nikolai and the nichevo'ya‘s unholy union? if kaz could observe him longer, he’d know, so he studies him. whatever warning he sees isn’t enough in the face of monstrous speed. when his back hits the hard wood, it jolts him out of his fascinated stupor, a gasp of surprise-pain stuttering into something else. revulsion and desire snake down the ridges of his spine. it won’t kill you.
his hand finds purchase on nikolai’s shoulder, not so foolish as to shove him off. instead, kaz tries to anticipate his movements. the ripple of muscle before nikolai opens his collar. the shift of his weight that forewarns it sinking against him, heavy as a corpse. kaz digs his nails into nikolai’s back, like he’s the only thing keeping them afloat. it’s cold here, colder than the sea had been, icy like the harbour. no choice but to bury a wounded sound in the crown of nikolai’s head, as he — it soothes the very bruise it created. never strays from his pulse, from the thing it wants. a lever is a lever. ]
[ with a breathy scoff, ] Nothing quite as flattering as a forced confession, is there. [ a true dismissal of affection extracted by coercion or cruelty, which has never appealed to him. an attempt at smoothing his composure with his customary dryness, too. it might be convincing, if not for the tremors running through his person, rattling apart in nikolai’s hold. weak, like the way he needs to bite the inside of his cheek until he draws blood to stop any humiliating cry from sounding as nikolai carves his wound wider. on instinct, he tries to twist his palm away from nikolai’s teeth, glinting in the light as the bandages fall away.
for a second, he — it hesitates, expression giving, a familiar warmth haunting its abyssal eyes. its control has been fractured by nikolai’s inner strength and its own yawning hunger. desperation animates its actions and its restraint, stalled above his wound, not yet taking. kaz notes every word, each fact the demon imparts, and resists thoughts of nikolai (hopefully sunken too deep to witness this himself). only you. you’re the lever. in all his cleverness, kaz hadn’t realised the extent to which that could be true for all aspects of nikolai lantsov. at least, not until his other begins drinking from his hand, cradled like a breakable, precious thing. careful, or at least intentional, in how it handles him, and careless with itself, just the same as nikolai. as he bloodies himself (itself, nikolai), kaz’s breath catches, only to even into shallow huffs.
untouched and unloved, as if he hasn’t always been this way, apart from those fleeting moments. before he drowned. before nikolai decided he wasn’t worth the risk. still, his desire to see nikolai live outmatches all others. ]
Everyone dies alone. [ surety there, underwriting his words with steel. no mourners, no funerals. contrary to every instinct, he tips his still-bleeding hand to nikolai’s mouth. an offering, exchanged so that the slackening it causes in nikolai will allow him to wind his other arm forward again. a roll of his shoulder soothes the pained muscle. ] But now that Nikolai has shut you out, you exist in isolation. [ eyes flinty, kaz cards a hand through the hair falling in nikolai’s face, studying the spiderwebbing shadows that cut through his freckles. ] Only you live this way, observing all who love him from a distance. You. [ a short, dark laugh. ] Created by someone who wanted love so desperately they would suffer eternally for it, [ martyrdom ensuring pigeons across ravka might know his wretched name. pathetic. ] and bound to someone who shares that flaw, except he knows how to treat it. [ by welcoming all he meets into his light. ] Nikolai would kill himself and you in a heartbeat. I’m all you have. [ an echo: if you die, he dies. without waiting for a response, kaz knocks nikolai’s knee aside, leveraging off the headboard to reverse their positions and knock his offending arm back. it’s more about the act of rebellion than escape, which is an impossibility, one wrist still caught in nikolai’s iron grip. ]
[ tsking — ] None of that now, if you want my cooperation. [ he jerks his head, sweat-slick hair flicked aside to reveal his razored jaw. ] Tonight, you’ll ensure he rests, unbothered by your nightmares. You’ll let me wake him, touch him, and convince him to try sating you. And if you behave — as a gesture of good faith, I’ll feed you tomorrow night. [ this time, he bites his cheek again to distract from the blossoming pain in his leg, worsened at this angle, weighing down nikolai’s limbs for show. or perhaps he draws blood as a precursor to dipping his head low, mouth red and eyes wild. dirtyhands can handle this even if he can’t. ] We’ll negotiate from there.
[ as if to secure their deal, kaz kisses nikolai — or the thing that’s both nikolai and not — mouth full of copper. a monster need not fear its kind. ]
no subject
his hand finds purchase on nikolai’s shoulder, not so foolish as to shove him off. instead, kaz tries to anticipate his movements. the ripple of muscle before nikolai opens his collar. the shift of his weight that forewarns it sinking against him, heavy as a corpse. kaz digs his nails into nikolai’s back, like he’s the only thing keeping them afloat. it’s cold here, colder than the sea had been, icy like the harbour. no choice but to bury a wounded sound in the crown of nikolai’s head, as he — it soothes the very bruise it created. never strays from his pulse, from the thing it wants. a lever is a lever. ]
[ with a breathy scoff, ] Nothing quite as flattering as a forced confession, is there. [ a true dismissal of affection extracted by coercion or cruelty, which has never appealed to him. an attempt at smoothing his composure with his customary dryness, too. it might be convincing, if not for the tremors running through his person, rattling apart in nikolai’s hold. weak, like the way he needs to bite the inside of his cheek until he draws blood to stop any humiliating cry from sounding as nikolai carves his wound wider. on instinct, he tries to twist his palm away from nikolai’s teeth, glinting in the light as the bandages fall away.
for a second, he — it hesitates, expression giving, a familiar warmth haunting its abyssal eyes. its control has been fractured by nikolai’s inner strength and its own yawning hunger. desperation animates its actions and its restraint, stalled above his wound, not yet taking. kaz notes every word, each fact the demon imparts, and resists thoughts of nikolai (hopefully sunken too deep to witness this himself). only you. you’re the lever. in all his cleverness, kaz hadn’t realised the extent to which that could be true for all aspects of nikolai lantsov. at least, not until his other begins drinking from his hand, cradled like a breakable, precious thing. careful, or at least intentional, in how it handles him, and careless with itself, just the same as nikolai. as he bloodies himself (itself, nikolai), kaz’s breath catches, only to even into shallow huffs.
untouched and unloved, as if he hasn’t always been this way, apart from those fleeting moments. before he drowned. before nikolai decided he wasn’t worth the risk. still, his desire to see nikolai live outmatches all others. ]
Everyone dies alone. [ surety there, underwriting his words with steel. no mourners, no funerals. contrary to every instinct, he tips his still-bleeding hand to nikolai’s mouth. an offering, exchanged so that the slackening it causes in nikolai will allow him to wind his other arm forward again. a roll of his shoulder soothes the pained muscle. ] But now that Nikolai has shut you out, you exist in isolation. [ eyes flinty, kaz cards a hand through the hair falling in nikolai’s face, studying the spiderwebbing shadows that cut through his freckles. ] Only you live this way, observing all who love him from a distance. You. [ a short, dark laugh. ] Created by someone who wanted love so desperately they would suffer eternally for it, [ martyrdom ensuring pigeons across ravka might know his wretched name. pathetic. ] and bound to someone who shares that flaw, except he knows how to treat it. [ by welcoming all he meets into his light. ] Nikolai would kill himself and you in a heartbeat. I’m all you have. [ an echo: if you die, he dies. without waiting for a response, kaz knocks nikolai’s knee aside, leveraging off the headboard to reverse their positions and knock his offending arm back. it’s more about the act of rebellion than escape, which is an impossibility, one wrist still caught in nikolai’s iron grip. ]
[ tsking — ] None of that now, if you want my cooperation. [ he jerks his head, sweat-slick hair flicked aside to reveal his razored jaw. ] Tonight, you’ll ensure he rests, unbothered by your nightmares. You’ll let me wake him, touch him, and convince him to try sating you. And if you behave — as a gesture of good faith, I’ll feed you tomorrow night. [ this time, he bites his cheek again to distract from the blossoming pain in his leg, worsened at this angle, weighing down nikolai’s limbs for show. or perhaps he draws blood as a precursor to dipping his head low, mouth red and eyes wild. dirtyhands can handle this even if he can’t. ] We’ll negotiate from there.
[ as if to secure their deal, kaz kisses nikolai — or the thing that’s both nikolai and not — mouth full of copper. a monster need not fear its kind. ]