[ there’s a chasm between how this nikolai handles him and how the other one gripped him moments earlier. it’s worse than you know, kaz thinks darkly, but there’s nothing to be gained from encouraging or fighting nikolai’s pessimism. better to place his wrapped hand in nikolai’s and lean closer, unlocking his limbs and recalibrating for intimacy. he missed this for longer than nikolai realises — at least since his touch was met hurt in place of softness on nikolai’s arrival in ketterdam. because you left. the waters calm, nonetheless. kaz finds himself back in the position where the demon first reached him in his room atop the slat. vulnerable. as he gives in to nikolai’s guiding touch, a final shudder works down his shoulders to his panging leg. ]
We both will. [ it’s no longer something nikolai can manage alone, both because of the demon’s strength and the thorny territory kaz has already traversed. can’t turn back now. he reaches across nikolai’s bloody chest, as if to hold him together, and feels panicked huffs smooth into deep drags. the demon’s terms already fulfilled. a temporary reprieve, undoubtedly, but that’s all kaz brekker needs to think. nikolai may prefer a perfect solution, but kaz has never had the luxury of overlooking a messy interim fix. even shaking and bloodied, he has nikolai closer than he did before — his condition improved, if only marginally. without meaning to do so, he drifts off after nikolai.
perhaps predictably, kaz wakes first, nikolai’s blood dried on his cheek. the rise and fall of nikolai’s chest proves steady, the rhythm of it drowning out the waves (though his limbs are heavy with rot, flesh distending wetly). he extricates himself carefully, like the thief he is, and surveys the damage, touching and not touching, memorising every ridge and valley of nikolai at peace. eventually, with the first slats of light filtering through the curtains, kaz ventures to nikolai’s bathroom to clean himself up — wiping the blood from his mouth and towelling it from his hair. lingering there, he examines the latest mark made by nikolai unknowingly, purpling his skin just below the thin rope of scar tissue lining the hinge of his jaw. the claw marks on his chest from their first intimate encounter have scarred over, which nikolai will surely hate. he already visibly aches when he touches evidence of hurts from the time before him, after all.
the gifted clothes are unsalvageable, so kaz chucks them out, borrowing a gaudy robe until he can scout nikolai’s collection or send for his own things. in the organised chaos, it takes time to find supplies to tend nikolai’s wounds and organise them according to their need. first, kaz re-wraps his hand, ensuring the widened gash looks no bigger than it did before nikolai pried it open and drank from it. (human flesh). a sudden thought: there are fresh corpses in ketterdam every day. just as swiftly, nausea crashes over him and nearly drags him under, eyes unfocused until they meet their match in the mirror, hands clenched against the counter. nikolai won’t be able to stomach that. his glare hardens. and you will?
a peak into the bedroom confirms nikolai rests despite the muted thuds of his cane. kaz noses around the room and gathers clues to his mental state, as if deteriorating requires greater specificity. he then expands his silent search to the living area, re-examining the notebook where nikolai records his nightmares and mad desires. it still astounds him, to find his name written again and again. as much as kaz has built a reputation on being the exception, it remains perplexing to be singled out by someone like nikolai lantsov. if nikolai indeed wants him and the demon wants to ruin him, consume him, kill him in rather vivid scenarios, that could be channelled in the same direction. with difficulty. the dark side of nikolai preferring him certainly makes more sense than the light he’s come to rest within.
while he doesn’t disturb the mess of nikolai’s room, he tidies the kitchen for want of something to do with his hands. a lock to pick, a deck to shuffle, accounts to settle. anything to help him arrange his thoughts. nikolai will have to be told the truth, both because it benefits them to collaborate on a plan and because there’s a chance nikolai will remember it on his own. once the counter’s clear, kaz leans against it, cane tucked under his arm. the pain has returned in full, the tension in his body impossible to unwind. yet he fails to comprehend how uneasy he is until he hears movement in the bedroom and his aching legs move without thought. a flash of another time they parted — nikolai bursting through the window aboard the ship — and he stumbles on his bad leg, catching himself on the bedroom doorframe. ]
no subject
We both will. [ it’s no longer something nikolai can manage alone, both because of the demon’s strength and the thorny territory kaz has already traversed. can’t turn back now. he reaches across nikolai’s bloody chest, as if to hold him together, and feels panicked huffs smooth into deep drags. the demon’s terms already fulfilled. a temporary reprieve, undoubtedly, but that’s all kaz brekker needs to think. nikolai may prefer a perfect solution, but kaz has never had the luxury of overlooking a messy interim fix. even shaking and bloodied, he has nikolai closer than he did before — his condition improved, if only marginally. without meaning to do so, he drifts off after nikolai.
perhaps predictably, kaz wakes first, nikolai’s blood dried on his cheek. the rise and fall of nikolai’s chest proves steady, the rhythm of it drowning out the waves (though his limbs are heavy with rot, flesh distending wetly). he extricates himself carefully, like the thief he is, and surveys the damage, touching and not touching, memorising every ridge and valley of nikolai at peace. eventually, with the first slats of light filtering through the curtains, kaz ventures to nikolai’s bathroom to clean himself up — wiping the blood from his mouth and towelling it from his hair. lingering there, he examines the latest mark made by nikolai unknowingly, purpling his skin just below the thin rope of scar tissue lining the hinge of his jaw. the claw marks on his chest from their first intimate encounter have scarred over, which nikolai will surely hate. he already visibly aches when he touches evidence of hurts from the time before him, after all.
the gifted clothes are unsalvageable, so kaz chucks them out, borrowing a gaudy robe until he can scout nikolai’s collection or send for his own things. in the organised chaos, it takes time to find supplies to tend nikolai’s wounds and organise them according to their need. first, kaz re-wraps his hand, ensuring the widened gash looks no bigger than it did before nikolai pried it open and drank from it. (human flesh). a sudden thought: there are fresh corpses in ketterdam every day. just as swiftly, nausea crashes over him and nearly drags him under, eyes unfocused until they meet their match in the mirror, hands clenched against the counter. nikolai won’t be able to stomach that. his glare hardens. and you will?
a peak into the bedroom confirms nikolai rests despite the muted thuds of his cane. kaz noses around the room and gathers clues to his mental state, as if deteriorating requires greater specificity. he then expands his silent search to the living area, re-examining the notebook where nikolai records his nightmares and mad desires. it still astounds him, to find his name written again and again. as much as kaz has built a reputation on being the exception, it remains perplexing to be singled out by someone like nikolai lantsov. if nikolai indeed wants him and the demon wants to ruin him, consume him, kill him in rather vivid scenarios, that could be channelled in the same direction. with difficulty. the dark side of nikolai preferring him certainly makes more sense than the light he’s come to rest within.
while he doesn’t disturb the mess of nikolai’s room, he tidies the kitchen for want of something to do with his hands. a lock to pick, a deck to shuffle, accounts to settle. anything to help him arrange his thoughts. nikolai will have to be told the truth, both because it benefits them to collaborate on a plan and because there’s a chance nikolai will remember it on his own. once the counter’s clear, kaz leans against it, cane tucked under his arm. the pain has returned in full, the tension in his body impossible to unwind. yet he fails to comprehend how uneasy he is until he hears movement in the bedroom and his aching legs move without thought. a flash of another time they parted — nikolai bursting through the window aboard the ship — and he stumbles on his bad leg, catching himself on the bedroom doorframe. ]
Nikolai?