[ i've been adjusting. there's a difference. never has he sounded more like a boy king, still fussing over appearances. it nearly tugs a smile loose. however, as another lecture commences, his eyes close, exhausted by the pounding in his head and all the wanting he has for nikolai. he doesn’t say, you can’t take me off my own job. but he considers it, spine straightening under nikolai’s hand — then softening like candle wax near a flame, as soon as nikolai’s head hits his shoulder. he should be repulsed, and he is, faintly, but longing overrides it.
a curt nod approves his treatment, even as anger tightens his features. he chokes down his poison tongue to avoid repeating his mistake at the inn. a hundred arguments with an imaginary nikolai, all unfair to him. speak the truth alone because this isn’t just another job. ]
My shoulder tore when you pulled me back from Tamar and Anika. [ his gaze levels with nikolai’s, blue waters made calm. ] I wouldn’t hide it from you. [ has never hidden it from nikolai, even when he could’ve that night. he’s a thief and a liar, except there’s an honesty in him, too. harsh truths over cruel lies, when he has control of himself. he cards his hair back from his face, tidying the lines of it, and sighs. stillness from then on, palms braced on the cold floor, so that nikolai can work quickly with those dead hands of his. kaz fears and savours the skittering sensation on his skin, affecting him as much as the icy air. why? only one other counterargument is worth sharing — because it, too, is true. ]
The deal is the deal. [ there’s the rock salt rasp, steadier with each practiced word. in some ways, it remains that simple for kaz. his focus tracks nikolai’s hand until it nearly catches his cheek, arms tensing behind him. have you considered that it might be time for my impossible luck to run out? his eyes shutter again, lashes dark against his cheekbones. ] But yes, I’ve considered that. [ his mouth purses. he keeps his eyes shielded from nikolai’s piercing gaze. ] It wasn’t about you at the start, and it’s not about you anymore.
[ an admission of that vital stretch in the middle, where it very much was about nikolai, a storm decimating his safe harbour, a distraction. the relief he feels at having his thoughts torn elsewhere is immense (and nothing compared to the overwhelming comfort of having nikolai in hand, for that brief moment on the shore). he inhales a long breath, exhales a fog, before slanting his focus to nikolai, honed as a blade once more. ]
[ brusquely, ] If you send me back now, you kill me. [ a mirthless laugh echoes violently in the cave and down a winding passage to their right. ] Better that I died in the fall like a thief. [ on a score so audacious, it was worth dying for. kaz tilts his head sideways, like a bird, scrutinising nikolai openly from a new angle. ] Weren’t you listening this morning? The Dime Lions know we’re here, which means so do the Razorgulls and Black Tips. The damned Merchant Council. Canal rats and spiders everywhere. [ his work for — with inej, jeopardised. never. ] If I abandon the job and return to Ketterdam, I lose everything. [ his voice sharpens. ] Not even Rotty and Anika will stay with me. You don’t recover from a retreat in Ketterdam — ask Pekka fucking Rollins.
[ white-hot fury contorts his features, shaking his voice, unlike anything kaz has directed at nikolai, even at his worst. rollins hasn’t been seen since kaz sent him blubbering after his boy in the countryside. would he come back if your failure toppled the barrel’s new order? he wrenches his gaze from nikolai to the reflective ceiling, seeing those shark eyes above him at the crow club and below him at the auction. black spots in his vision. is that where he stole his murderous stare?
another steadying breath as he lowers his eyes. one gloved hand encircles nikolai’s wrist, holding it still where it only just pulled away. he doesn’t say that he would continue the job with his own resources, though surely nikolai knows. call it cockiness, but kaz believes that even if ravka cuts him from the deal, he’ll still beat them to the heart. ]
Do you think I’ll be more likely to listen to you if you touch me? Is that why you keep doing it, when you don’t want — [ me. he cuts himself off before he utters something stupid. wonders still, are you punishing me? doesn’t let go. just keeps looking at nikolai, awaiting an answer. a knife. ]
[ it’s more matter-of-fact than tactless cruelty, and still nikolai feels an anchor of guilt settle in the pit of his stomach. more ways that he’s made brekker bleed with endless possibilities still remaining. it never stops. even a clean break with miles of sea separating them won’t heal brekker’s wound. a laugh nearly bubbles out of him, a mirthless thing edged in despair, and he tries to remember what it was like to feel hope around every corner instead of this grim darkness pressing in at every turn. hope and the strength of his will, the things that have carried him through his most difficult trials. gone, now. why did you let go of them, too?
he’s silent through the explanation that kaz offers, unsure if he’s relieved or disappointed it’s about more than just him. the additional factors spin this further out of his control. he fetches kaz’s fallen pack, then pulls him into the fork of his legs so he can gain better access to his shoulder, but it feels too much like he belongs there. focus. there’s tension pulling kaz taut — from his close proximity, from his touch, from this conversation. better not to linger even when he’s struck with the urge to press his face into kaz’s hair, for his lips to trail kisses down the line of his neck. he wrenches his eyes to the garish marks at his shoulder instead, intimately remembering the give of flesh and muscle beneath his claws. ]
Are you going to tell me who Pekka Rollins is? [ the sudden venom in his voice is unmistakable. bloody dressings end up on the cold floor beside them as he loops fresh bandages around his shoulder. ] If you must stay on this job, then I’m not leaving your side. I hope you still have that gun.
[ kaz circles his wrist and somehow the feeling is more intimate than all his mad fantasies of kissing him. nikolai’s pulse jumps, a bob in his throat as he swallows, and he almost doesn’t hear it when kaz speaks, barely registering his lips moving. his eyes are ice now, a cold, dreary sky. ]
I keep waiting for you to stop me. [ don’t put this on him. he takes a breath, hating himself and wanting this all the more. his hand settles at kaz’s heartbeat. when i don’t want what? you? did he make him think that? of course he did. his hand creeps across his open shirt, now at bare skin, searching kaz’s eyes for anything that will tell him to pull back. ] You still let me so close. I don’t know how to make you understand what I am.
[ another breath, and then he pulls away, a shift in his eyes as he forces himself to smile. forces the cavernous ache of his want down to a hidden part of himself. bandages in hand, he reaches up to brush kaz’s hair aside, tending to the cut at his temple. ]
Is that why you think I’m touching you? [ his brow quirks, eyes catching his for a moment before resuming his work. kaz’s gaze is sharp enough to cut himself on. ] The better question is would that even work on you? My bag of tricks to make Kaz Brekker listen to me is abysmally empty. What can I do to soften those edges?
[ dissonance between the sickness and the aching want, intermingling the closer nikolai draws him. kaz could spend hours considering all the different ways they’re touching now, his good knee bumping nikolai’s leg, the hands gliding over his skin, nikolai's mouth a gasp away from a kiss.
the mention of rollins dampens the mood considerably, and he’s strangely grateful for it. a simple grunt in response to nikolai asking after his mortal enemy. the details of the story rise in his throat so swiftly that he has to force them back down. it wouldn’t do to give nikolai more pieces of himself, if he won’t receive the same in return. whatever he wants from nikolai now, it’s not a keeper. is this how inej had felt when he forced the net upon her? saints. the unflattering comparison reveals a clearer course of action than squabbling endlessly.
for a moment, kaz has him, caught in his hand like a fluttering sparrow. power rebalanced until nikolai speaks something oblique, meaning twisted into strange shapes by the way his palm runs hot (no, shivering cold) across his chest. his lungs refuse to expand, to fill with needed air, until nikolai pulls away, and kaz releases his wrist with a shuddery breath. thinks, unbidden, of all the things nikolai said he wanted. what if the only reason i let you close is because i know? despite the doubts in his heart, he leans forward to narrow the space nikolai left behind, tipping his head to better accommodate the attention to his injury. at the first tender (no, slick) brush of his hair, his lashes lower until he wills them up. some high-wires, you have to walk alone, and if you fall — the trick is in getting back up. he learned that from the best. ]
It’s one theory. [ an even thing, coupled with a sideways glance. would it work? unlikely, especially without proper follow-through. his mouth curdles. ] Another is that you’re punishing me. [ for wanting nikolai at all, or for everything he said and did at the inn. an equally unkind assumption, but what choice has nikolai left him? kaz manages to neutralise his expression when he speaks again, coarse voice lifting. ] And then there’s the third option.
[ stubborn hope flutters against his ribcage. kaz waits for nikolai to shift away, leftover bandages set aside, before seizing him by the wrists again, grip sliding to capture his bare hands in between his own gloved pair. ]
Reset the terms of our professional relationship. [ not quite a demand, hitting a lighter note. if nikolai sincerely wants to soften those edges — ] We finish the job together as partners. What you do with your share isn’t my business. [ the heart, although it pains him to relinquish his stake in nikolai. you can’t make people stay, but you can gift them more options than they thought possible. as for their relationship, well, if nikolai insists on guarding him, then why shouldn’t he be allowed to return the favour? and if nikolai means to touch him without asking — kaz lowers his mouth to the cup of their hands, blowing warm air into the cradled space. once, twice, three times. his thumb arcs over the back of nikolai’s hand, tracing simple lines. as he lifts his head and closes the clasp of their hands to keep the heat held inside it, his mouth quirks higher on one side. a match for his cocked brow. no idea whether he feels faint from the closeness or the head injury. ]
Your hands have been freezing this whole time, by the way. [ constructive criticism for the otherwise admirable nursing techniques. ] Felt like you were shoving snow in my shirt.
[ there are many options here that he could take, the most sensible one to finish his work and find a way to drag brekker out of here. he's hurt. not thinking straight. or maybe he just doesn't want to hear what he's saying. this conversation is not meant to happen here, or anywhere, because it's not one they should be having. he's dangerous to kaz, just as dangerous as this job, and distance is what they need. it's what he needs, as someone who regularly turns into a monster, someone who should not be allowed to touch anyone at all. he doesn't want to have to live with the knowledge of how kaz brekker's blood tastes on his tongue.
and yet a part of him is still selfish, the part of him that can't stop thinking about this. he remains silent, keeps his face neutral, but kaz cracks it easily with his theories, one in particular. how can he think that? but he knows how. the whiplash of pulling away so quickly. promising one thing and then breaking it. none of this is who he is, but the monster has changed everything, dragged him back down to his lowest point. and dragged brekker down with him.
he's ready to end this, to look away, to pull back — and, as if knowing all of this, kaz traps him there with an iron grip. the bruises circling his wrists give a throb, but he hardly feels it when moments later there's his warm plume of breath, thumbs gentle against his fractured skin. he doesn't dare look away, a quiet sigh in his chest. ]
The last thing I have ever wanted to do was punish you. [ it's an unforgivable thing to offer a kind of solace and then damn someone for taking it. an unforgivable thing to give kaz a place to test his limits and then make him feel as though that was a mistake. a monster has no safety to give. he had no right. his jaw tightens. sorry isn't nearly enough. his thoughts rush forward before his mind has a chance to catch them. ] I just wanted to give you a safe place to land.
[ he shakes his head as if it might erase this moment, wishing he could slap himself. he barrels on in hopes that kaz might forget what he just said. ] It's very quaint that you would like to be partners with someone who may gently gnaw on your guts at any given moment. Almost as if you have a head injury that's currently impeding your common sense.
[ but he can't deny the thrill that moves through him at the way kaz clasps his hands, his boldness heartening him even now. can't stop the way his mouth matches his almost-smile. he reaches up to — what? his hands move mere inches before stopping, never leaving this circle of warmth, his mind a sudden tumult of want and agony and hope. and stupidity. his next breath pulls tighter, his fingers twitching like he's only barely stopping himself from moving again. ]
So repay the favor. [ quietly, like he knows he shouldn't be speaking at all. don't do this to him. he ignores the warning, pressing on as if he is the one currently taking leave of his senses. he doesn't even have a head injury to blame. ] Take off your gloves and let me feel your hands.
[ a safe place to land. another puzzling, miraculous desire to consider. if the moment were less overwhelmed with want, he would laugh. do you believe anywhere is safe for me? his mind produces another piece of evidence, i am tired of tasting your blood. a wish to be safety, not danger. he can understand that, though he chafes against it. a decision made without him, like he’s too foolish or fragile to add compelling nuance to the binary of having and not having. hope persists in the lovely sigh he pulls from nikolai. the way nikolai allows his hands to be held.
his waiting pays dividends. a benediction. let me feel your hands, of a pair with his first confession. the kaz of now knows something he didn’t then: touch, and the feeling of being made real by it, has eluded nikolai for some time, too.
sat in the fork of nikolai’s legs, kaz slides his good knee up to improve his leverage and bracket nikolai on one side. he need only tug nikolai inches forward before he can rest their linked hands in his lap. keeps one gloved hand half-covering nikolai’s two, fingers soothing over the bruises at his wrist. the aim isn’t for nikolai to touch him that low — well — not in a fucking cave. presently, kaz doubts he could stand without dizzying, so he’ll call this a strategic respite to justify his selfishness. ice eyes thaw, brightening with mischief as he lifts his free hand to his mouth, catching the white tips of his glove in teeth and removing it with a jerk of his sharp jaw. the thick fabric falls away, cold nipping at his fingers. no matter. the fever will set in soon enough. he swaps hands, now grasping nikolai’s wrists in a shackle of soft skin — as if to say these hands are hostages, these hands are mine now — when he repeats the ungloving, head tipped back even further to expose the column of his throat, eyes momentarily closed.
can’t stop. he squeezes nikolai’s hands softly, bringing one to rest at his good knee and the other directly to his mouth, first to brush lips over the pulse throbbing in his wrist, then to kiss the centre of his black-streaked palm. a hitch of his breath into the contact (nikolai’s flesh at once firm and melting in his grasp). his other hand unbuttons nikolai’s coat from the bottom, just enough to slip under his layers as before, charting that fleetingly familiar trail across the coarse hair of his stomach, gentling up his injured ribs, skidding around his hip, and settling low on his spine to usher him close, closer, closest despite the tremor in his arm. he doesn’t take nikolai’s fingers in his mouth, unsure if he can without gagging on the sensation (but he wishes nikolai would encourage his efforts). his chin tilts upwards in defiance, stare unbroken. ]
My offer is final. [ treat him as a partner, or he’ll be impossible to reach. ] Do I have you still? [ his attention, his reluctant agreement. kaz knows better than to ask for all of him as was promised, however badly he longs for it. he kisses nikolai’s fingertips, only pausing to murmur, ]
I wouldn’t let you close if I didn’t know — if you weren’t what you are. [ if he were easier, whole and unbroken; if he weren’t burdened by secrets and monstrosity. nikolai’s dimming light is challenge enough, equally exposing and galvanising, for a shadow like him. a quirk of kaz’s head, tone nearly arch if it weren’t strained from both holding back and keeping himself anchored. ] You’re not the first person to try me. [ not a brag, but rather a careful hint at a secondary truth: you’re the first person to succeed. does he know that? ] But no one’s ever — there’s never been anyone like you. [ immediately. ] I do know how that sounds. [ wry acknowledgment of the irony in his choice of person, evident in the twitch of his mouth, recognition of nikolai’s physical threat. ] I know.
[ nikolai affords him a different safety than he would prefer, but kaz hopes he understands the value in it after his diatribe on revealing weakness in ketterdam. still, he anticipates hearing those truths will be too much for nikolai, and kaz will lose him again — so he chooses recklessness, catching one, then two, of nikolai’s scorched fingertips between his lips, sucking on them a second. a chill bolts down his spine, water rushing in his ears. breath held to stop the decay from filling his lungs, his eyes flicker open to catch nikolai’s stare as a flush bursts across his cheeks. if either of them had died today or last week — he parts his lips, to let nikolai push for more or startle away from him.
kaz tells himself he can handle either daunting scenario. ]
[ it's like something out of a dream, having kaz this close once more — not the closeness of their nightly ritual, tension thick in the air and nikolai trying his damnedest not to let any brief touch linger, but like before, when their surroundings crackled with adventurous promise. hope. something he used to carry with him always, called upon with the ease of breathing. now, he's almost afraid to let it in, and almost afraid to believe that kaz is surrendering himself so willingly. he wouldn't believe it if it wasn't happening right before his own eyes, the slow tug of leather, the intentional baring of his throat. his pulse is a roar in his ears.
the killing blow is the brush of kaz's lips to his palm. nikolai shuts his eyes, wanting to tear himself away, wanting to demand that kaz remember everything he's done to him, a numberless list of sins and unintentional cruelties. he knows there will be more, because he knows he will fail again despite his best efforts. the thought jolts him out of his own head, blinking at kaz's unexpectedly sweet face, concentration tightening his features. he's staying, he realizes. he's staying here with me. his breath catches as kaz's nimble fingers find their way beneath his clothes, warming against the small of his back. feels the strength in his arm when he pulls him closer to a place he can't escape.
have you been beaten down so badly that you can't get back up again? his demon rumbles in his chest as nikolai curls his fingers into the waiting warmth of kaz's mouth, gently pulling him closer as his other hand cradles his cheek, thumb swiping across the growing flush coloring his skin. remember who you are. he has no right to this — to kaz, to this moment, to this need inside of him. but he's never had a right to anything. not his name, not his crown. you have to earn it. ]
There is no one like me, Brekker. [ a flash of a smile, his golden eyes warming. he draws a tentative breath, fingertips stroking the sudden heat of kaz's tongue. he withdraws his hand, wet fingers moving to his chest again to leave a slick trail across his skin. he stumbles over a nipple and pinches, wanting to see the heat grow on kaz's face, bringing his mouth close so only a breath remains between them, eyes shuttering as his voice drops to a whisper. ] You have no idea how much hope lives inside of you. And how much I need it.
[ then there's the crush of their mouths, cracking open an ache he's tried to stitch closed, a moan rising unbidden in his throat. his hand can't decide where to go, sliding down his chest, over the cut of his hip, blunt nails leaving a trail across his skin as he curls his fingers into the small of his back and draws him nearer, a mirror of kaz's boldness. his teeth catch his bottom lip, eyes briefly fluttering open to make sure kaz is still with him. he nestles his grip at the nape of his neck, keeping him close. ]
Tell me something you've never done. Something you've wanted. [ breathless words between breathless kisses, too greedy for this to pull away. his lips move to the corner of his mouth, dragging lower as he tilts kaz's head back to kiss the scar beneath his jaw. ] Anything. Anything at all.
[ pride bursts in his chest, when nikolai appears overwhelmed, lashes kissing his freckled cheek. because of me. kaz did that to him, for him. power of a different kind than he’s known. do i have you still? yes, kaz thinks, at least for now. his shoulder throbs, and he ignores it without flinching, committing every sound and sign of affection to memory. kaz tells himself he can keep waiting for this, nikolai — but he doesn’t have to, a soft pressure on his tongue, a skittering sensation arcing over his cheek. his lips close around nikolai’s fingers, sucking sweetly. the smell of sweat, blood (not death) washes over him.
he loosens the hand on nikolai’s own to bracelet down his arm and then fall away, steadying on his thigh to relieve the ache in his shoulder. the cold-wet-hot trail over his chest makes him shiver, and he leans into the touch, inhaling a sharp breath as nikolai tweaks his nipple. he should be terrified. he should end this before it buries him. he winds his arm tighter at nikolai’s back, trim nails digging into firm muscle. maybe he’s the one who has you. can feel the fever suffuse his skin, heating all the way down to his collar. ]
Nikolai. [ half-annoyed, half-thrilled by his sudden return to form. it’s faith (in himself, his crows, this infuriating man), not hope, that he possesses — except arguing the point would only betray a variation on sentimentality. better to lower his lashes and kiss nikolai back ferociously, licking into his mouth, behind his teeth; to help nikolai draw him into an embrace (touching too many places at once, alighting every nerve with panic, no, want); to let himself be what nikolai claims he is — what he needs. it’s only been days since kaz last had him, and still the intensity of the attention startles him. he savours the taste of his moan, barely registering how its echo rumbles back from inside him.
mustering strength in his free hand, he rakes his fingers through nikolai’s hair, closing his fist and tugging lightly. higher thoughts dissipate in one kiss and the next. he feels like he’s losing his mind, unable to focus on the rising waters or the question of what he wants. all the needs he choked down clatter about. things that he refused to name until nikolai coaxed him closer and started touching him the way he wanted before he knew he wanted it. impossible to judge how much he can take without dooming this affair to rot. kaz thinks back to nikolai’s fingers pressing into his mouth, the slick trail on his skin. his pulse thuds in his throat as nikolai’s lips brush over his scar. oh.
this time, he pulls harder on nikolai’s golden hair, a demanding drag upward. dark-eyed hunger deepens his blues, world narrowed from the harbour to the cave to nikolai lantsov. ] Just want you. [ too much. more than anything. he steals another harsh kiss before he noses along his ridged cheekbone. the hand at his back pulls away to search for nikolai’s arm, sliding the length of it to unhook the fingers at his hip. orientation by touch alone. then, a rasp in nikolai's ear. ] Want your mouth. [ on him, drowning him in place of the saltwater. he guides their shared grip to the clasp of his trousers as his teeth graze the shell of nikolai’s ear. his hand shakes. of course it does. ]
Will you — [ he buries his face in nikolai's neck, smearing kisses along the hollow of his throat. ]
[ it echoes through his mind, the question that kaz can barely bring himself to ask, half stunned that he's never — but of course he hasn't, how could he with the way the waves lap at his feet and bodies swarm toward him? careful exposure has gotten him this far. it suddenly feels fragile in his hands, this thing between them, taken and cast aside and taken again, and in the crush of kaz's warm mouth he vows to do better. to be better. he might never be able to offer him everything, but — he can offer this. a safe place to land. at least for as long as this moment lasts. ]
Yes. [ his eyes turn heavenward as kaz mouths along his throat, the shimmering ceiling losing focus, his fingers already loosening his trousers where kaz guides his hand. it's a small start to have him vocalize his wants this way, and nikolai finds that he longs to know more, to hear every desire, every wish hidden inside the puzzle of kaz brekker. he wants to give form to all of them, to show him that this can be good, that this is something he can not only have but take from him as he pleases. there's an apology in his mouth when he finds his lips again, eyes pressed tightly shut. ] You have me now.
[ they break apart as he unwinds the disheveled furs warming his neck, tossing them behind kaz to use as a cushion, because in the next moment he's hooking his arms beneath his knees to pull his hips toward him, lifting them gently as his hand slides inside his open trousers to curl his (warm, now) fingers around his cock. gentle strokes as he eases his legs over his shoulders, taking care with his right. ]
Tell me if it's all right. [ he brings his mouth close, warm breath puffing across his cock. this is different from kissing, different from getting him off with just his hand. vulnerable in a way that kaz has not allowed himself to be with him, yet. he glances at kaz's shoulder, then slowly reaches for his hand, curling their fingers together. ] Or if it's not. [ a squeeze, gentle. ] We can always start again.
[ his tongue laps out to lick a teasing stripe along the underside of his hardening cock, taking a breath before sliding it into the heat of his mouth. it's been years since he's done this — before the demon, before his return to ravka and the whirlwind of chaos that came with it. pleasure ignites low in his stomach at the drag of his lips, the velvety texture heavy against his tongue. he licks moisture from the tip of his cock, cheeks hollowing and sandy lashes lowered in concentration. if this is the first time, he's going to make damn sure that no one will come along and top his performance.
his eyes flicker up once, trying to gauge kaz's reaction, trying to imagine what could be whizzing through the fever of his mind, spit collecting on his cock as he uses his hand to stroke him firmly while he takes a breath. when he goes down again he takes him deeper, deeper, letting him push against the back of his throat and squeezing his eyes shut as he holds him there around the rumble of a groan. he wants to see the flush grow across kaz's skin, wants to hear the sounds he pulls from deep inside of him, a challenge and a desperate need rolled into one. his lashes are wet when he pulls back, his breath ragged, but it leaves his mouth no less enthusiastic, delightedly working him over at a steady pace, then faster and faster still — eager to please, hungry to offer up the uncomplicated heat of desire. ]
Tell me — [ breathless whispers between the wet sound of his mouth. ] Say what you feel.
[ agreement, promise, apology. you have me. kaz hums something pleased into nikolai’s mouth, kiss made softer by the hopeful feeling in his gut.
an unreadable expression overtakes him as nikolai uses his own clothes to cushion his head. before he can overthink it, nikolai tugs him forward, and he tips back, propped low on his elbows in a final defense against the inherent vulnerability of being prone, mouth parted on a surprised breath. unease barely finds purchase in his whirring, ever calculating mind, knocked off-centre by nikolai’s calloused fingers on his cock. he sucks in a breath, watchful gaze still focused on nikolai being focused on him. no longer trapped in his head, perhaps, but instead here. with me.
that line of thinking is cut short by nikolai lifting his legs, which kaz worries he may not be able to help unstick, but no, he wants this. he can do this. his stomach flips. the tumult of the barge flashes behind his eyelids, but he forces them open to replace it with nikolai, looking handsome and disheveled and intent (the last of which, he hasn’t seen in days, with his fatigue). a hundred stupid, fond ideas fracture his concentration as he returns the squeeze of his fingers, thumb sweeping over the back of nikolai’s hand. ]
I will. [ gruff voice thick with want, he finally flattens to the ground, a supine position that steals all the air from his lungs in a rushing exhale. might have banged his head if he hadn’t, though, body jerking in nikolai’s firm grasp as he’s swallowed by the wet heat of his mouth. ] Ah — [ habit chokes out the sound, as it would for an expression of pain, but it’s not that. saints, it’s not that. his free hand twitches, confused and out of place at his side until he bends it back beside his head, curling into those ridiculous, royal furs. heavy-lidded eyes don’t dare leave nikolai’s bowed head, lest he be transmuted a dead thing, even though kaz would like to hide the way a baritone gasp startles his features wider.
a visible, losing battle for control plays out in the slackening and tightening lines of his face. and then there’s the peculiar ache in his thighs — an irrational feeling telling him that nikolai belongs here, in the v of his legs. too much and not enough. kaz arches into his mouth at the same moment nikolai’s takes him deep, and he moans brokenly. a blizzard of sensation in the interplay of mouth-hand-mouth over his cock, unlike anything he's ever had. the quick, slick sounds interrupt the waves crashing in his ears, but it’s nikolai’s voice that anchors him. ]
Feels — overwhelming. [ worse, he likes that it feels that way, insides made molten. nikolai deserves a better answer than that. ] It’s good. [ breathless, in the midst of another doomed fight to keep his voice level, unaccustomed to delivering praise. yet he’s struck by the terrifying urge to reflect all of nikolai’s light back on him. ] Of course you’re good. [ rough-edged, like he’s annoyed about it, but it’s a toothless thing. honeyed tongue, clever mouth, nimble hands. of course, of course, of course. he groans louder, hips hitching. ] You should see how you look. [ like he’s the one being ravished instead of the reverse, like every fantasy kaz has had in the last six months but better. he reaches up to seize nikolai by the hair, but ends up gentling it aside instead, fingers swiping wetness from the soft skin beneath his eye. he wishes this position were more conducive to kissing.
his eyes close, head tilted back on a ragged moan. despite the cold, heat flushes his chest. sweat under his jaw, beading down his throat, at the small of his back, the bend of his knees. water blurs his vision, the feeling of nikolai’s hand slipping from his even though he knows it isn’t. his grip tightens. a suspended breath fights the rising tide for a moment, but — ]
Wait. [ damn it. a flash of blue, panicked but not lost, darting over nikolai to reform him in his mind. heartbeat hammering and settling without the frantic urging of nikolai’s mouth. okay. his free hand finds the cave floor at his side, cold and unmistakable. he still wants this badly; that’s what made it dangerous in the first place. ] Just wait. I’m fine. [ kaz waits for nausea that never comes and forces the shake from his voice. ] Okay. [ a sharp nod, concentration wrinkling his brow but a hesitant sort of quirk at his mouth. ]
[ he hums in time to his praise, a smile pulling at his lips even while it's wrapped around his cock. kaz's hand finds his hair, hazel eyes briefly closing as he swipes the moisture from his lashes, unexpectedly sweet — and he suspects there's more of that buried deep inside, pushed further and further down for all the years that kaz had nowhere else to put it. what else does he keep hidden away? the depth of his desire, the parts of him that don't fit the barrel, little pieces of himself that no one has been allowed to see. he's reminded again of how fragile this is, of how much trust kaz has placed in him despite all the reasons he's given him not to. why, after everything? maybe nikolai is not the only one determined to make him reach for more each time, to stretch him beyond the limits of his comfort and into the territory of his need. he almost laughs. crafty bastard. trust a master thief to flagrantly steal his tactics and turn them onto him.
another harsh slide of his cock, another swallow, another ragged moan pulled from kaz's lips. encouragement rumbles in his throat — and then there's the sudden shift in kaz's tone, his body stilling, tense not from his mouth but from something else. nikolai slows, eyes studying his face, flushed, marred with the edge of panic. he says nothing, but soothes his thumb along kaz's tightened grip, squeezing gently, watching to see if he should stop, if he should come back up to steady him, if this is too much all at once. his i'm fine isn't entirely convincing, but the set of his brow says that he's still here, the pull at the corner of his mouth more reassuring than his words. ]
It's good for me, too. [ something else to ground him. he wants this, too. he licks the taste of kaz from his lips, wet and flushed, throat rough, then drags kisses along the side of his cock, taking him in hand once more and using his thumb to slide through the pearly moisture collecting at his tip. every hitch of his hips, every arch of his spine he commits to memory, every movement with his mouth that drags out a jagged moan. things to remember for later, when he does this again — a thought accompanied by a flurry of complications that need picking apart. just stay in this moment. advice he needs to take as much as he gives it to kaz. he strokes him lazily, enjoying the view of him on his back, his skin slick with heat, his muscles tight with pleasure. he grins, his eyes twinkling. ] You should see how you look.
[ ravishing, on the tip of his tongue, a (true) joke he keeps to himself. when he dips his head down once more it's with renewed purpose, messy and eager, angling his hips higher to meet his mouth. he watches kaz through the shutter of his lashes until he can't anymore, eyes pressed shut the deeper he takes him. he wants more than just this, wants to strip him bare and acquaint himself with every part of his body — and has to stop his thoughts because he wants more than even that. how he can possibly earn it, he doesn't know. there's a moan in his throat when he swallows again, a choked breath paired with the drag of his lips. if he could speak he would tell kaz to let go, to empty his thoughts, to allow himself to fall, because this time he'll meet him instead of shutting him out. this time he won't fail him. ]
[ not great, but fine — inching back to great, wading into the dark waters with nikolai’s fingers guiding him, a relentless drag over his hard cock. the praise washing over him like warm light dappling the shallows. an assurance kaz didn’t know he needed after nikolai had suggested that this (kaz) wasn’t wanted days ago. hard to feel anything but desired now, of course, watching nikolai ease him back into this intimacy, doing filthy things he hadn’t let himself imagine, too far out of reach. another abortive thrust at the tease to his tip, whine low in his throat.
but the thing that helps the most is nikolai stealing the compliment he worked very hard on, thanks, and turning it back on him. a short, barked laugh eases the tense line of his body a vital fraction before he coils in different, better places when nikolai swallows him again. for once, kaz allows himself to be led and adapts to match nikolai’s rhythm, rewarded with a ratcheting sort of pleasure as he rocks eagerly into his mouth. still tense and sensitive enough that every slide feels a little devastating, cock thickening on nikolai’s tongue. as the colour in his cheeks intensifies, the same hot, shivery feeling runs rivulets down his back, building low. his gaze flicks to the ceiling, another steadying count of breaths, before nikolai does something that makes him cry out.
no idea how he went so long without this. no idea how much of it he can take. it feels like he’s trying to catch up with all the sensations, swept up in the current. ]
Nikolai. [ riding on a shaky exhale, approving. all the praise he can’t articulate wrapped up in his name. nikolai feels as good as he looks, no, as he sounds — the velvety heat of his mouth drawing surprised, wounded noises with each deep glide, the warm curve of his shoulders spreading his thighs so they ache pleasantly, moans vibrating up his cock to assuage any lingering doubts that nikolai wants anything but this. kaz brings his (cold, now) hand to tangle in nikolai’s hair and pulls. encouraging, urging. ]
Like that, ah — Nikolai. [ to mean again, more. maybe just to say his name, when it signals this precise location in time and space; this person who holds the lion's share of the trust and faith he has left. canting his head to the side, kaz watches through low lashes, over the rapid rise and fall of his chest, to memorise the set of nikolai’s brows, the shape of his reddened mouth stretched, the way his throat works. thinks, distantly, that it’ll be harder to put nikolai to bed each night and leave before he’s hardly thinking anything at all. from there, his lung capacity narrows to little more than pants, chest shuddering. waterline at his waist now, but that's fine. he can make it back to shore.
his grip on nikolai’s hand strengthens, pressing their shared clasp against his thigh like he means to sear it into the skin. all the muscles in his body pull taut, good leg cinching tighter on nikolai’s back. a feeling he knows but doesn’t think has ever been quite this overwhelming, flooding every twitching limb. fingers scrape over nikolai’s scalp for another rough pull — final warning — and he comes down nikolai's throat with a shudder, eyes finally shuttering again as a punched-out sound escapes in a rush of air. small, stuttered gasps chase the aftershocks until he relaxes, secure in nikolai's hold. ]
[ it's as gratifying as if he's the one shuddering beneath kaz's tongue — more, maybe, knowing that this is the first time for him, that he could be the one to show him how this can feel if only he allows it to happen. heat floods his mouth, his eyes closing as he swallows, his hand moving to splay across the center of his fluttering hips. kaz is never loud, but nikolai swears the cave amplifies the quiet sounds that strain from his throat, sweeter than birdsong. sounds he wants to hear again and again.
it's not until kaz softens against his tongue that he slowly slides him out of his mouth, tucking him back into his trousers so he doesn't have to feel the cold. he finally lets go out of his hand to ease his legs down, then climbs above him to take in the full view of his gloriously disheveled face, sweaty and flushed, his sharp eyes gone soft with pleasure. nikolai's jaw aches a bit, the feeling coming back to his reddened lips, but he leans down to kiss him anyway, satisfying an immediate want with enthusiasm as he licks into his warm mouth. impulsively, his hand skitters down to press between kaz's legs, lips quirking. ]
I should drag you back to the ship now. [ he mouths along his jawline while lamenting the fact that they're not in his quarters, in his bed, where he might be free to loosen the buttons of his shirt and strip him naked. he wants to acquaint his mouth with every scar littering his skin, wants to know the story behind each one, even if he knows he can't take such things without offering the same in return. if he really means to cut past these walls, he'll have to pay the toll to earn it.
but they're in a cave in the deep underground of fjerda, and with that comes some measure of leniency. his palm teases kaz's overly sensitive cock with innocent pressure, his mouth moving up to kiss the cut of his cheek, the flutter of his eyelids. ]
Where did you get this one? [ he relents his assault so that kaz might have a fair chance at answering, tracing the scar beneath his jaw instead. his eyes drop away, roaming over his collar as if it's suddenly of interest. ] And when I first let the monster out back in Ketterdam, what did you really think?
[ conflicting sensations persist as he sags, and it hits kaz all over again, how dangerous this is. how much trust he puts in nikolai lantsov. his legs feel tingly, aching with overextension. he cracks one eye and then the other to watch nikolai take care of him — something that sticks in his throat. he chokes it down, half-lidded gaze following nikolai, already climbing over him. eager, huh. one hand swiftly curls in the short hair at the nape of his neck to encourage him to do what he was planning on, anyway. can’t help it. nikolai’s mouth looks made for kissing, red and wet from blowing him. he drags both knees back up, though the right bends at a slighter angle than the left, to regain some leverage and welcome nikolai between his thighs. ]
Thought you’d be able to wait. [ for the town, the ship. a little slurry, almost lost in between two sloppy kisses. no, he hadn’t anticipated nikolai laying him out fully in moments, hadn’t thought he was wanted that much — ] Don't you dare ruin these trousers, Lantsov. [ a hoarse warning, even as his breath catches and hips twitch into the cradle of nikolai’s hand. he’d liked it the last time nikolai pushed him for more, drawing his focus from the tumult of the waves to the shivery sensation in the now, and he likes it even more now.
it takes a moment for the meaning of i should drag you back to the ship to spark over him. not propelled by threat, but by desire: the want for everything that nikolai spoke of on the beach. terrifying. galvanising. he sighs into the soft kisses on his face, features made looser than ever, and slides his free hand back under nikolai’s shirt, roaming up his chest. after letting nikolai do this for him, it feels — not easy, but easier to touch him like this, like the strength that comes after surviving the snap of a broken bone. if the body can weather that, why not more? ]
Hm. [ eyes slanting up at him, kaz tips his head at an oblique angle to allow nikolai a clear view of the thin scar tissue and conjures a lie to his questioning. then, he sets it aside. ] I was 14, the last time I was in prison. [ hasn’t been caught since. ] Someone wagered that slitting my throat would boost their stock. [ nonchalant, over almost dying that young. the snag of his mouth to the side says he repayed the piss poor bet — but it flattens into a neutral line, when nikolai chases one question with another. ]
[ his rasp evens, gaze sharpening. ] Didn’t think anything, for a moment. [ kaz is rarely surprised by anything, let alone a reveal of that scale. it stupefied him. ] Then I wondered how it worked, and how I might use it — or the knowledge of it, as you guessed. [ and then he hadn’t attempted either, the same courtesy extended to jesper’s fabrikator abilities so long ago. why? he had felt like a boy, seeing a magic trick for the first time, and wanting more than anything to take it apart. nikolai’s unease had been a fascinating, secondary concern at that time. now, a mild curiosity lifts kaz's brows, and he shifts his hand to grip nikolai’s jaw, turning his gaze back to centre. ] Anything can be a tool, a lever, if you know where, when to apply the right amount of pressure.
[ would roll his shoulders in a careless gesture, if he weren’t both injured and prone, instead splaying his palm high on nikolai’s chest, near his heart. kaz knows it's not the answer nikolai feared, but he can't say whether it's the one he wanted. it's true, regardless. ]
[ the simple way that kaz brackets him gently with his knees means more than anything they’re talking about now. he doesn’t bring attention to it even when every part of him wants to grin like an idiot and say see how far you’ve come now, something he’s certain kaz will find both insufferable and patronizing despite his best intentions. casually, he eases down beside him, his hand sliding to grip kaz’s waist and pull him gently toward him. stealing another languid kiss, his fingers find their way back into kaz’s trousers, his warning going largely ignored.
nearly murdered at fourteen. nikolai tries to imagine that sort of life, all the weight kaz carried then and still carries now. they’re both intimately acquainted with death but in vastly different ways — kaz, in prison at such a tender age; nikolai, joining the infantry and learning firsthand of the sort of hopelessness his country had to offer. he wonders what sort of person kaz might have been if he was allowed to be a scholar. his direct competition, to be sure. his lips travel over the scar as if he can erase it, something tightening in him when he imagines the seconds directly following such a gruesome act. was he afraid? how could he not be? ]
Did you think you might die? [ the question feels hushed, hidden somewhere beneath his skin. his hand tightens around his cock, eyelids fluttering open briefly as he fits their mouths together once more. what does this have to do with anything? stretching his limits, making him comfortable enough to do so. asking him questions of death seems to be the opposite of what he wants to accomplish. he takes a breath, his hand slowly stroking kaz with gentle care. another question presses to the tip of his tongue, and he tells himself not to ask. it doesn’t matter. and yet his mouth moves without permission anyway, just as it always does around kaz. ] You didn’t make my secret a tool.
[ not a question, but the why didn’t you feels understood. slow strokes, firm and even, like he needs kaz to be off-center for this. his mind moves too quickly, parsing through memories and getting stuck on one, mouth curving into a smile against the corner of kaz’s lips even if it’s the last thing he feels. ] You know — after I did that, half of my crew wouldn’t even sit at the same table with me. Made for a very awkward journey back home. I’d thought about it before, but I think that was the moment I knew I’d already lost my crown.
[ he doesn’t realize how much he’s said until after he’s said it, blinking away some unfocused point his eyes have settled on. if only they knew how much worse his affliction has gotten. it’s one thing to see a man command a demon at his side. quite another for a man to sprout fangs and claws. he’s quick to smile again, his eyes clearing as if the storm cloud was never there. teases along his cock again. ]
How many secrets of mine do you really hold, Brekker?
[ nikolai settling beside him is a new height of intimacy, for kaz — the kind people share in bed together. time planned, not stolen. he hyperfixates on the proximity, the heat off nikolai’s body. would nikolai ever invite him there, to the site of his nightly deaths? kaz hooks his good leg around nikolai’s calf, aligning them from top to bottom and trembling for it. too much, like the hand in his trousers. his cock twitches with overstimulation, and a loud moan throws off the angle of their mouths. you like it because it’s too much, proof that nikolai won’t go easy on him. kaz only releases him to push his waistband below the hard jut of his cock.
as nikolai mouths over the scar, his eyes close. this, too, marks a terrifyingly intimate act: another knife to the throat. black water shimmers behind his eyelids, but he blinks it away. ] No. [ the memory fails to frighten him now, even through the clarifying lens of distance. kaz kisses the corner of nikolai’s mouth, then the apple of his cheek, nosing into his freckles. ] All I had to do was kill him first. [ easy, after a slice too shallow, knife gripped at the wrong angle. cracked eyes narrow on nikolai, gauging his reaction. they soon shutter again, with one yawning kiss into the next. his breaths pick up, skipping here and there as nikolai strokes him. ]
I didn’t. [ his palm gentles over each rung of nikolai’s ribs until he finds the healing knot. kaz knows what nikolai means to ask. old answers form and collapse: investments and alliances, stocks and favours. the truth buckles them all: i liked you. he wants to slide it into the gap between kisses, a well-aimed dagger. i like you still. not in the same way now as then. well, maybe that had been there, too, glittering in the solarium, when kaz decided this little prince was cleverer than the rest and trusted him with something more precious than his own wants — the ghafas.
the gift of another secret shifts him into a different key, at once alert and seemingly blank. his chest tightens to think of nikolai losing part of his crew and the crown both. when kaz forfeited his final act of revenge, he kept ketterdam, the crows, and the club. without them — what would he be? the man helping inej roust slavers and other monsters, the fool who left his home to retrieve a relic for the dragon queen and her most valued lieutenant. it reeks of heroism. ill-fitting. and what is nikolai without his crown? something heroic. something bright, despite his protests.
kaz kisses nikolai’s feigned nonchalance away quickly and soundly, teeth catching on his bottom lip. the muscles in his stomach tense, want edging back into need under nikolai’s expert fingers. ]
I’ll take more. [ a sideways smile, roguish in his way — but genuine, too. his thumb settles at the high centre of nikolai’s sternum, soothing little circles there. ] Give them to me, Nikolai. What you lost, what you want. [ kaz tips their foreheads together, eyes alight with desire, cheeks dark with it, and shudders, the motion rolling through him as he thrusts his leaking cock into the circle of nikolai’s fist. ] I’ll keep them for you. [ say what you feel. ]
You know I — [ he falters, plucks a smaller truth from his collection. ] I like it more this way. [ a purposeful roll of his hips to explain what he means. this. the rawness of it, the added intensity that distracts, the way he thinks, wildly, that he could do this again and again, if only nikolai would keep touching him. he grinds the heel of his free hand against nikolai’s cock, pleased to find him hard and waiting. ] Do you?
[ they’re suddenly intertwined, an unexpected surprise that fills him with a careful sort of thrill, like he can’t quite believe his fortune. kaz wants this — something he knows and yet still feels hesitant about when he overthinks it, which is often. there’s more at stake here than a lost partnership or a failed job. he’s intimately aware of the damage he could do — damage he did do, damage he hopes can remain undone — to a fragile want such as this. one more misstep and kaz may not allow him back in. worse than that is that he may not allow anyone in. it fills him with dread, sometimes, when he considers his track record for holding onto anything important. it’s abysmal, and he wants to tell him so, to give him some warning that though he plays this part with reckless confidence, in the end he knows that this could slip through his fingers just as everything else has — only if he fumbles this, he could be the reason kaz closes himself off once again. the thought leaves him cold. and he thinks it dozens of times a day.
the touch at his ribs brings him back, the answer to his question. when was the last time kaz might have been afraid of dying? when was the last time you were? his breath catches when kaz reaches the still-tender part of his ribs, a reminder of their near demise just a few short days ago. at least he's healing better than kaz, his shoulder still festering with the darkness nikolai embedded beneath his skin. another thing to be careful of. another reminder of why he shouldn't risk this at all. ]
A very practical approach to attempted murder. [ he won't do him the disservice of pity, meeting kaz's fleeting glance evenly, happy to swallow down the hitches in his breath. life has not been kind to him, but it's made him the man he's currently finding great pleasure in kissing, for better or for worse — and the fact that he can do this at all means that life hasn't sucked all of the hope from him yet. ] If you'd grown up with me in Ravka, you would've been drafted into the King's Army when times grew desperate and sent to your death in battle. I suppose prison at least offers the existence of scales to tip in your favor.
[ his mouth stills as if waiting for elaboration, then deepens the kiss when none comes. maybe it goes back to what he'd explained while nikolai stitched closed the wound across his ribs all those months ago. your stock is volatile. or maybe it's something else, something to do with that odd sensation that came the moment he first met kaz brekker and continued to flare up each time they had an unlawful rendezvous. the rush of adrenaline for the unknown. a new puzzle to silently pick apart in the vast stretches of time that separated them. the first time they'd met in the solarium nikolai was sure he was meeting with a highly-skilled thief and nothing more, but kaz had not only sussed him out in moments, but surprised him by not asking for wealth or status or power. he had to have known that asking to find the wraith's family also meant he was handing nikolai a weakness that he could exploit. he remembers amending his assessment of him from criminal prodigy with abnormally sharp cheekbones to as painfully human as the rest of us, just with abnormally sharp cheekbones.
kaz's teeth pulling at his lip draws a sigh out of him, his practiced smile crumbling before it can form. ] You don't want that weight. [ his eyes flutter open, taking in the dusky color across his cheeks, the slick wetness on his fingers. he's never put into words all that he's lost, doesn't even know if he can. ] I don't know that it counts as loss if it's mostly self-made. I believe it falls under learning experience, then. I always did need my lessons to be hands-on.
[ what does it mean that he would keep them? he watches the stutter of his breath, feels the tremor that passes through him. not even his own melancholia can keep his smile away a second time, kaz's taut confession paired with the sudden motion of his hand knocking loose a startled, breathless laugh. it's the first time he's given real voice to an opinion regarding his own desires. ]
I do. I'm rather curious to see how much you can take. [ pleasure and guilt coil together, his eyes briefly pressing shut around an uneven groan before he leans into a messy kiss, hips pushing into kaz's hand. he tightens his fingers, stroking kaz roughly, watching him with hazy eyes. ] I like how you feel in my mouth. In my hand. When you're wet and needy. I just like how you feel. Saints, I could watch you fall apart a hundred times and still want more. Will you keep touching me, just like that? Touch me the way you would touch yourself. I want to know.
[ memory taints kaz’s perception, infiltrating sights and sensations. less so now, absorbed in a world of two, edges blurred by arousal, but it’s there. perhaps that’s why he recognises a similar tendency in nikolai — whose mind seems most drawn to pinch points. that’s where even brilliant men jam limbs between the moving and stationary parts of the machine. although nikolai’s present self strides forward, he gets caught in past mistakes, alternate presents, fatal futures.
the thought only crystalises into something sayable, when nikolai stills. ]
[ firm, but not harsh. ] There is no place where I grew up with you. [ the crown would have no need of him in the alternate world where he isn’t kaz brekker (or even kaz rietveld), a ravkan boy turned canon fodder. he would have died, absolutely, torn to ribbons on the field like his father or shot on the frontlines. a soft thing from the country, who wouldn’t be half as intelligent, without the motivation and freedom to study everything he needed to survive. or half as closed off. that kaz might have been able to touch others and release the fluttering wants in his throat. might have had a brother a little while longer, too, but none of it matters. it isn’t real. lightly, ] Stay where I am, for a change.
[ no detours into his branching, possible deaths or the countless near-misses across his short life. he’ll no doubt face the darkness one day, when his devil’s luck runs out — when he makes a killing mistake. and what do you call this? nikolai’s claws in his hand, in his shoulder; the teeth at his throat, in life, in a dream. his shoulder smarts from all the movement. a gentleman’s bet. ]
With the me that’s really here, not the boy you imagine. [ caught in the jaws of the monster, bleeding out on a battlefield in ravka, tucked away somewhere safe, asking for things he doesn’t want. ] Then you’d know I decide what I want. [ and nikolai will choose what he gives in return, an exchange like any other. he sighs. ] And that I believe all our losses are self-made. [ even his first, certainly his last. (who else could doom dirtyhands but himself?) every loss flares from a choice, as simple as a decision to care, to go left instead of right into the alley where someone grabs you — luck is a factor, but there are no gods or saints guiding her. a bad hand can still be played with adept strategy, if only in one near-impossible scenario. those are the odds kaz has counted on all his life. ]
Of course you are. [ affection threatens his wrecked but otherwise neutral features, mercifully waylaid by nikolai’s mouth. you’ve been testing my limits since you met me. the thought shocks a hoarse laugh from his chest, breaking the kiss as he pushes his hand through the neck of nikolai’s shirt to tilt his face away — ] You’re insufferable. [ — and then swiftly guide him back, palm cupping his cheek. he tells himself it’s better to leave it there, lest he irritate his injured side. the concurrent rush of praise and touch widens the set of his eyes, and his mouth parts on a low moan. when nikolai looks at him like that, it feels like an unbreakable tether, even as his hands filch the air from his lungs. he won’t last, muscles strung tight.
will you keep touching me? breath quickening, an instinctive fear twists in his chest. deft fingers find their way into nikolai’s trousers, opening them enough to free his cock for a tentative stroke — that stalls when kaz feels him twitch. not bad. a surer pump of his hand. not bad at all. to live in the barrel is to know bodies of all kinds, even without touching them, but he’s never known nikolai’s body, gaze lowering to memorise the flurry of movement between them, to marvel at the searing image of his cock in his bare hand —
suddenly, he lifts said hand away. his cocked brow assures nikolai that this delay differs from the last, allowing kaz to lick a stripe up his palm. eyes intent even through the fog, he squeezes nikolai’s cock again, thumb arcing over the head and then dragging alongside a vein. ]
Like that? [ a tease, a tell. he doesn't know. kaz leverages the palm at nikolai’s cheek to smudge kisses along the underside of his jaw. the way you would touch yourself. an expert twist of the wrist, jacking him steadily. his voice thins, breathless. ] Like this?
[ the shift in kaz's tone earns him an undivided glance, something in his mind stilling to make room for his words. at first it feels as though he's being led — something he decisively abhors, his brow creasing in automatic pushback, but the simple request gives him pause. stay where i am. he wants to. he needs to, otherwise his thoughts become a catastrophic tangle in his head, one thing leading to another, all of it disastrous. is it so simple as just setting this aside? it feels unwise to ignore all the ways this can go wrong, all the reasons he should pull back. he doesn't know if he has the courage to say it twice, to face the storm of hurt and anger on kaz's face when presented with his flimsy excuses. but isn't it better for him to be alive, even if he hates him? ]
Kaz. [ his name wrapped in a quiet breath. he looks away and then back again just as quickly, a hundred things on his tongue. stay. leave. kiss me. i have to let you go. he swallows them all down, tries to listen to one voice instead of the many pulling him in clashing directions. why did you have to decide that you wanted me? the hand between his legs stills into soft motions, his other hand rising to run the pad of his thumb across the flush standing out on kaz's cheeks. it's warm here, in the space where their breaths mingle, pale skin damp beneath his fingertips. stay where i am. maybe he should learn to take direction. he exhales, his chest falling, wry amusement in the sparkle of his eyes. ] Once and only once will I heed your advice. I'm here, where you are.
[ and he finds he doesn't mind the space. his mouth presses to his in a soft kiss, a gentle promise not to stray from this path. the sound that kaz makes — did he just laugh? — pulls a smile to his lips, followed by a laugh of his own when kaz pushes his face away. ] That's common knowledge, Brekker. I've always been insufferable.
[ his laughs cuts off into a groan as kaz sneaks his way into his trousers, his cock twitching in his fingers from the sudden attention. another first, kaz taking his desires into his own hand. nikolai fixes his gaze keenly on him as he wets his palm with his tongue, a rush of heat spreading up his neck from the sight. he's imagined it countless times, before they ever touched each other this way — kaz fisting his own cock in the darkness of his bed, the quietly rough noises he would make, the shudder of his body beneath his own touch. he blinks and kaz has him in hand again, drawing out a strained moan as his hips cant eagerly for more. ]
Yes. It's good. You're good. [ his hand quivers, fingers loose around kaz's cock. his mouth is like fire against his jaw, and he shifts swiftly to catch him in a disheveled kiss, his tongue pressing past his lips as his head empties, narrowing down to the pulse of heat and wet fingers. kaz's bare fingers, wringing a moan from his throat. skilled, despite never having touched him before. was there really no one? he finds he doesn't want to know if there was.
he can hardly keep pace, but — never being one to shy away from a challenge — he renews his strokes with ruthless vigor, panting against the heat of his mouth. when was the last time anyone touched him like this? he catches his thoughts before they stray, one hand sliding into kaz's hair, his touch decidedly gentle, careful of the cut at his temple. his fingers curl at the nape of his neck, keeping him close. another keening sound from his lips, another shudder as he presses his eyes shut. it's good — better than good, the sweetest ache that sends heat pooling low inside of him, his spine arching in a rush of breath. ]
Wait — wait, not yet. [ his fingers clamp around kaz's wrist, pulling his hand away, and then he's sliding back down between his legs, taking his cock in his mouth once more, tousled blond falling into his eyes. a groan rumbles deep in his throat as he swallows him down as far as he can, desperate to pull another cry out of him, to feel the way pleasure seizes his body. he pulls off with a gasp, his bright eyes hazy with lust. ] Come for me. And then make me come. [ his breath shudders over his glistening cock before he slides it past his lips again, eyes closing as he skims his hand blindly along kaz's side, turning his palm up for him to take if he needs to, or even if he simply wants to. ]
[ for once, asking is enough to win what he wants. he can feel the way nikolai tenses and relaxes, preparing to leave, to stay, to blow out the fire he lit all over again. kaz, not brekker. a good sign, a terrible one. he thinks about admitting that he needed nikolai in the water, at the inn, and about nikolai admitting that he needs kaz, too, in this cave. whatever hope a half-dead boy has left inside him, nikolai can have. no one else has the strength to take it, anyway. i’m here pushes out a breath he hadn’t realised he was holding. the kiss that chases it tastes sweeter, like a victory, until he ruins it himself. but there’s the laugh.
he kisses the fever in the hollow of nikolai’s throat, anxious for it to spread higher, to stain his tanned skin. a scrape of teeth wills it to do so, before nikolai steers them back into a kiss that makes him groan, lips parting so nikolai can have whatever he wants. even better are the sounds hushed into his ear, crackling down his spine. he swallows as many as he can, but his own hiccuping gasps disrupt his efforts. you’re good dislodges a sharper noise in his throat.
this time, when nikolai takes him in his mouth, kaz jerks and cries out — a sound that reverbs back in the cave, starker than anything up to this point. doesn’t come then and there but it’s a near thing, only thrown off by nikolai abruptly letting him go moments prior. heart thunderous, his thighs spread instinctively to accommodate nikolai again. the wild thought that he belongs there, that everything between his legs is for nikolai, recurs. what does he do with his hands again? kaz refuses to hide his face, but he’s tempted. colour splashed from his cheeks to his chest, his cracked open features alight on nikolai, more debauched than anything he could have imagined previously, with his limited resources. the demand should smart, it does, but it also heats him from the inside out. and there’s the immolation, melting the resistance in his muscles. he nods without meaning to, a quick, repeated motion that’s more desperate than anything he could have said. as soon as nikolai offers his hand, kaz grasps it like he means to haul him to safety or hang on for dear life, fingers curled around his wrist. ]
Nikolai. [ pleading, the emphasis in all the wrong places. he remembers that he can tangle his hand in nikolai’s hair at the exact moment he does it, carding back the waves hiding his glittering hazel eyes. kaz wants to watch more than anything, but he can’t, holding that image in his mind as his eyes screw shut, head tipping back. ] Fuck, Nikolai.
[ his climax rebuilds, quick and intense, voice cracking over another attempt at nikolai’s name. kaz comes hard, sunlight flashing behind his eyelids. a rock of his hips off the ground, into the clutch of nikolai’s mouth, his safe grip. his cock pulses in time with the waves of pleasure crashing over him. he knows that nikolai won’t stop until it seems like too much — and kaz finds he wouldn’t want him too — allowing a whimper to escape his teeth. even when nikolai relents, he struggles to catch his breath, chest visibly working, expression near-awestruck at the sight of nikolai above him.
he adjusts their grip into a proper clasp, tugging their linked hands to draw nikolai up and over him before letting go. hitching up on his elbows, kaz moves the hand in his hair to fist in his shirt, dragging him in for a harsh kiss, so he can taste himself again and suck on nikolai’s tongue. palm flattening against nikolai’s chest, leg hooking around him to grind him close, burning with oversensitivity at the contact but repeating the motion regardless — he knows what that means, what he wants even if he’s never committed it to fantasy. another day, if nikolai will allow him that close again.
an idea jolts the dizzyingly attractive blur of mouth to mouth, skin to skin, into focus. kaz musters the leverage to push nikolai onto his back, more secure in their previous position. his mouth cracks a lop-sided grin, as wild as he was on the beach, when he finally takes nikolai in hand, smearing precome down the length of his cock and working him over with ruthless, precise movements. he slides the tight circle of his fingers down to fondle his balls, to brush the sensitive space behind them. ]
You were so good. Perfect. [ a rush of words, light-headed after his orgasm. he initiates a bitey kiss and resumes jacking his hand, a slick, relentless glide. ] Let go. I'll take care of you.
[ it's less graceful this time, kaz nearly choking him when his hips buck as he comes down his throat, nikolai swallowing down his wet heat and trying to remember how to breathe. trying to memorize every sound coming from kaz's lips. he only stops because the ache of his own cock is difficult to ignore, but he'd happily stay nestled between kaz's legs to draw out whimper after whimper if they weren't currently stuck in a cave in the icy wilderness of fjerda. he'd like to do this again in the comfort of a bed, all night if he wants to. a dream with dwindling hope still trailing at the edges. kaz kisses away the thought, reminding him to ground himself in this moment, a rough breath escaping him when his hips grind unexpectedly against his. doesn't have time to think about it, because then kaz has him on his back to touch him in a way that has his muscles clenching tight, a helpless sound in his throat.
let go. his eyes squeeze shut and suddenly he's drifting in the water again. his fingers tighten around something warm — kaz's thigh, gripped so tightly he knows he'll leave bruises. he forces his hand to relax, forces his eyes blearily open to find kaz near, catching him in a kiss made of teeth. i'll take care of you. words he doesn't think he's ever heard before. no one has ever wanted to do that, and it's not something he's ever chased. his hand glides up the length of kaz's spine, nestling in his hair again, dropping a strangled moan into his mouth at kaz's expert touch. ]
Fuck, Brekker. You're — good. [ good hardly suffices. he huffs out a laugh, a shudder working through him. extraordinary hands, good for breaking locks, breaking bones, and apparently everything in-between. good for taking him apart. scorching heat pools inside of him, his hips pushing desperately into kaz's hand. he pulls him down into another kiss, his mouth trembling as his lips part, wanting kaz to devour every part of him until there's nothing else but this. nothing but his hands and his mouth and the taut pleasure spreading through his limbs, jagged lightning bolts streaking through him until he can't hold back anymore. his teeth sink into kaz's bottom lip for one frantic moment before he lets go, spilling hot over his hand with a ragged sigh pulled from his chest.
it feels like falling. or floating. he winds his arm around the curve of kaz's spine, drawing him in close as he presses breathless kisses to his throat, dragging his lips higher to the line of his jaw. his nose nuzzles against the sharp cut of his cheekbone, eyes fluttering shut as he catches his breath. it's tempting to fall asleep here, his fatigue suddenly catching up with him, limbs warm and loose and relaxed for the first time in days. his mind feels blessedly empty. ]
I find I no longer care about the heart. [ he mumbles it into kaz's cheek, shifting to settle him gently at his side, taking care of his injured shoulder. he buries his face into his hair, lips brushing his ear, his voice low. ] Unless I can trade it for one night without chains, without that vile tonic, just one night in bed with you.
[ it’s for the best, that he came first (and second), focus returning to him so he can fully appreciate nikolai coming undone. he looks drunk on it, knocked off-balance in a way that kaz has never seen him. has he stopped thinking, worrying, fracturing, for just a moment? kaz thieves every wounded sound, each haphazard bit of taction, the width between his brows and the way his lashes falter. his mouth hooks sideways, more sly than smug (but that’s there, too). the startled praise suffuses him with warmth. ]
Never said I wasn’t. [ just implied that he hadn’t, with anyone else, but his clever hands have helped him manage by his lonesome in the intervening years, to be sure. nevermind that if nikolai hadn’t told him it was as simple as doing it the way he would for himself, kaz wouldn’t have thought of it like that or been able to touch him like this.
as the fog clears in his mind, the rumbling waves return. nikolai anchors him with kiss that kaz makes bruising, a bite that nicks his lip, a full-bodied release that breaks like the sky after a storm. kaz carries him through it, strokes slowing as nikolai softens. he even allows himself to be led closer, eyes shuttering as nikolai presses proof of unrestrained affection into his bones. or maybe it’s not affection. maybe it’s just what people do. he doesn’t know.
he wipes his hand on the ruined furs in the space between them before sliding it back across the still-trembling muscles of nikolai’s stomach, then grasping his waist to drag him close. kaz had been the one to untangle their limbs the first time, in nikolai’s quarters — and the other times, he’d been about to faint in the water, while nikolai had actually fainted on the shore — but he would prefer to stay now, if only for a little while longer (with no promise of this fragile closeness repeating). the mission whirs anew at the back of his mind. nikolai talks like there’s a chance, a flickering hope, and his breath catches. careful. in truth, kaz trusts nikolai with everything except self-preservation. did you ever want the heart? would you take it now, if i gave it to you? but even if nikolai doesn't mean what he says, the words heat kaz's cheeks all the same. he’d card a hand back through his hair, if nikolai hadn’t claimed the spot behind his temple as a resting place. ]
Just the one night? [ eyebrows arching, tone almost wry. he squeezes nikolai’s hip on his good side, blinking back the sensation of the flesh deteriorating under his hand. kaz scoffs. ] That’s a terrible deal. I’d never let you take it. [ irrelevant that he would definitely accept one night in bed with nikolai lantsov in exchange for most things, like the safety of being alone in his skin and away from the dead — or the firm grasp on his intelligence and restraint, which fell out of the crack in his head after nikolai started touching him again. ] I expect you to start negotiations with higher standards, [ another fragment stolen from nikolai, eyes sparking with amusement. ] or you’ll be countered into nothing.
[ easier to say that, just out of reach, than to offer him something accessible, like a day in his bed, though kaz would give him that, too. ]
[ for all they've done, this might be the closest he's ever gotten — kaz nestled gently against him, his arm at his waist like he means it to be there. like he wants this quiet moment, too. nikolai has had experience with relationships — a term he should use loosely — mostly back at university and all of them a whirlwind of chaos and extravagant mischief. even then he couldn't stand being alone, and there was no shortage of people looking for adventure and a warm bed. he liked the feeling of a shared space, liked being able to reach over and thread his fingers through soft hair or wind his arms around a warm body as he fell asleep. he always woke with the sun and discovered that coffee tasted better when shared in a tangle of sheets while light slowly filled his room.
where does kaz sleep? the question nips at his mind, a sudden and inconsequential curiosity. he keeps him close, his arm slung low around his waist — a perfect fit — and noses from his hair to his ear to his cheek, a smile pulling at his lips. ]
To think you've been keeping this talent to yourself. [ his hand slides lazily along his wrinkled shirt, tracing his spine all the way to the nape of his neck, hungry to feel every part of him. in time, if they're lucky. he settles at the small of his back, tucking him closer. if kaz hasn't touched anyone else this way, then has he allowed anyone else to hold him this way? surely not. nikolai lets the implications of that wash over him, loosens his hold just slightly if it's too much. seeks out his mouth for a gentle kiss, another to top the pile. he can't seem to stop. it's been so long since he, too, has had anything like this.
just the one night. does he dare to hope for more? even the one can't happen, not really. not the way he wants it to. he wants kaz to touch him again, to show him the things he does to himself in the dark, but he wants more than that. he wants uninterrupted sleep with kaz settled in his arms. never has a nap sounded so glorious. ] Someone very wise must have given you some sage advice on standards. I'm glad to know you were listening.
[ he kisses him again, languidly pressing his tongue into his mouth. they should move. perhaps they could find the others in this tunneled cave, though he's more interested in taking kaz back to the ship to see a healer. he trusts that his crew will find their way, and he knows that kaz won't give up on this mission regardless, so nothing has changed — except for this ever-shifting thing between them, growing stronger by the day. he's begun to think of the end of this job, when kaz sails back to ketterdam and he returns to os alta. what then? is he meant to just forget this? isn't the whole point that kaz becomes more comfortable with touch so that he might live a life more fulfilled with whoever he pleases? maybe when this is over nikolai will pay a long overdue visit to the wraith, clear his mind on one of her slaver hunts. pick her brain on their mutual... is friend the right word? not with the way kaz reacts around her name. ]
One night is all it would take to decorate the ship with your very attractive entrails. [ better to slam the door on that particular fantasy, even if he's once again branching off into alternate presents and fatal futures. his fingers drag along his waist, across his ribcage, pushing up to his heart to feel its rapid beat against his hand. one more probing kiss, slow and deep, before he finally releases his hold, letting the cold in as he sits up with a wince and runs a hand through his hopelessly tousled hair. ] Since you're still hell-bent on chasing this heart for your own sordid reputation, we should make it back to the ship and make sure that your brain hasn't been tainted with sentiment. Zoya always did complain about that with me.
[ he grins over his shoulder, swiftly straightening his clothes, then swivels to place both hands tenderly at kaz's right leg, his grip gentle as he runs his fingers along his thigh, disappearing beneath the bend of his knee. ] Did you hurt this in the fall? I'd like to draw the line at carrying you, but I will if I must.
[ a shiver, more good than bad, strikes him as nikolai’s hand holds his neck. kaz can feel reality seeping into this near fantasy. the coldness in his skin, in nikolai’s dead hands — the way the circle of his arms loosen a smidge (necessary, disappointing). it seems as though he isn’t the only one resisting it, with nikolai kissing him for no discernible reason other than to, well, kiss him. why does anyone kiss? because it’s nice. maybe because it communicates what can't be said, too. kaz tips into each one, still eager for the intimacy.
one night is all it would take — he sighs, eyes closing so he doesn’t have to react to whatever face nikolai puts on for his benefit, as he slams that door. it makes sense, given his present, tenuous condition, but it still stings, to have it offered and withdrawn so quickly. as a result, the final kiss takes him by surprise, and he returns it a heartbeat late, arching up until they part. in a second, he smooths his surprised expression into something neutral, if overly content. hitching up on one arm, kaz’s bird-eyed gaze follows nikolai as he sits, noting the wince without acknowledging it. at least nikolai has moved past the interim goal of ridding himself of kaz before the journey’s end.
as kaz replies, he pushes himself fully upright using his good side and pulls up his trousers before starting on the buttons of his shirt. ]
Nazyalensky has fine taste in complaints, [ she dislikes him, and he likes her for it. ] but sentiment has never agreed with me.
[ he snorts, though his gaze lowers to observe nikolai touching his oldest injury. it’s a part of himself he doesn’t consider to be particularly vulnerable, beyond practical considerations, but it feels like jabbing fingers in an open wound, when nikolai applies tenderness there. the question he thought had been answered on the beach one way, then another at the inn, persists: what do you want from me? his blues sharpen on nikolai, regaining their customary focus, and he leans closer. what do you want from the job? ]
If I’d hurt it in the fall, [ one hand refolds nikolai’s collar at the back of his neck, before both cup his face. ] it never would have gotten anywhere near your shoulder. [ kaz kisses him again, sudden and sure. because he can, because nikolai might not let him tomorrow — because he’s a fucking thief, so it’s in his nature to steal what he wants. why does anyone kiss? when he pulls away, there’s something satisfied in the curve of his mouth. he moves swiftly on, buttoning his shirt and adjusting his jacket, retrieving his gloves and flexing his fingers in the unfamiliar white leather. it looks better with a little red.
for the record, he did hurt his leg, just a wee bit, in an inevitable sort of way (rattled by the drop, strained by the walk and everything else). it won’t bother him too much more than his usual and not in a noticeable way, but he’ll retire early tonight. he fixes his hair last, a best effort at slicking it back that ends with it falling at the sides, as if he hadn’t bothered. fine. ]
You can satisfy your heroic urges by helping me up. [ voice flat, he extends his hand, for nikolai to take. ] Then I’ll walk. [ a jerk of his head at their surroundings. ] We should case a portion of this network before we find [ or make. ] an exit.
[ there should be one, lower than where they thought, near the rendezvous point for the whole crew. god knows what tomorrow will bring, after that. ]
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a curt nod approves his treatment, even as anger tightens his features. he chokes down his poison tongue to avoid repeating his mistake at the inn. a hundred arguments with an imaginary nikolai, all unfair to him. speak the truth alone because this isn’t just another job. ]
My shoulder tore when you pulled me back from Tamar and Anika. [ his gaze levels with nikolai’s, blue waters made calm. ] I wouldn’t hide it from you. [ has never hidden it from nikolai, even when he could’ve that night. he’s a thief and a liar, except there’s an honesty in him, too. harsh truths over cruel lies, when he has control of himself. he cards his hair back from his face, tidying the lines of it, and sighs. stillness from then on, palms braced on the cold floor, so that nikolai can work quickly with those dead hands of his. kaz fears and savours the skittering sensation on his skin, affecting him as much as the icy air. why? only one other counterargument is worth sharing — because it, too, is true. ]
The deal is the deal. [ there’s the rock salt rasp, steadier with each practiced word. in some ways, it remains that simple for kaz. his focus tracks nikolai’s hand until it nearly catches his cheek, arms tensing behind him. have you considered that it might be time for my impossible luck to run out? his eyes shutter again, lashes dark against his cheekbones. ] But yes, I’ve considered that. [ his mouth purses. he keeps his eyes shielded from nikolai’s piercing gaze. ] It wasn’t about you at the start, and it’s not about you anymore.
[ an admission of that vital stretch in the middle, where it very much was about nikolai, a storm decimating his safe harbour, a distraction. the relief he feels at having his thoughts torn elsewhere is immense (and nothing compared to the overwhelming comfort of having nikolai in hand, for that brief moment on the shore). he inhales a long breath, exhales a fog, before slanting his focus to nikolai, honed as a blade once more. ]
[ brusquely, ] If you send me back now, you kill me. [ a mirthless laugh echoes violently in the cave and down a winding passage to their right. ] Better that I died in the fall like a thief. [ on a score so audacious, it was worth dying for. kaz tilts his head sideways, like a bird, scrutinising nikolai openly from a new angle. ] Weren’t you listening this morning? The Dime Lions know we’re here, which means so do the Razorgulls and Black Tips. The damned Merchant Council. Canal rats and spiders everywhere. [ his work for — with inej, jeopardised. never. ] If I abandon the job and return to Ketterdam, I lose everything. [ his voice sharpens. ] Not even Rotty and Anika will stay with me. You don’t recover from a retreat in Ketterdam — ask Pekka fucking Rollins.
[ white-hot fury contorts his features, shaking his voice, unlike anything kaz has directed at nikolai, even at his worst. rollins hasn’t been seen since kaz sent him blubbering after his boy in the countryside. would he come back if your failure toppled the barrel’s new order? he wrenches his gaze from nikolai to the reflective ceiling, seeing those shark eyes above him at the crow club and below him at the auction. black spots in his vision. is that where he stole his murderous stare?
another steadying breath as he lowers his eyes. one gloved hand encircles nikolai’s wrist, holding it still where it only just pulled away. he doesn’t say that he would continue the job with his own resources, though surely nikolai knows. call it cockiness, but kaz believes that even if ravka cuts him from the deal, he’ll still beat them to the heart. ]
Do you think I’ll be more likely to listen to you if you touch me? Is that why you keep doing it, when you don’t want — [ me. he cuts himself off before he utters something stupid. wonders still, are you punishing me? doesn’t let go. just keeps looking at nikolai, awaiting an answer. a knife. ]
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he’s silent through the explanation that kaz offers, unsure if he’s relieved or disappointed it’s about more than just him. the additional factors spin this further out of his control. he fetches kaz’s fallen pack, then pulls him into the fork of his legs so he can gain better access to his shoulder, but it feels too much like he belongs there. focus. there’s tension pulling kaz taut — from his close proximity, from his touch, from this conversation. better not to linger even when he’s struck with the urge to press his face into kaz’s hair, for his lips to trail kisses down the line of his neck. he wrenches his eyes to the garish marks at his shoulder instead, intimately remembering the give of flesh and muscle beneath his claws. ]
Are you going to tell me who Pekka Rollins is? [ the sudden venom in his voice is unmistakable. bloody dressings end up on the cold floor beside them as he loops fresh bandages around his shoulder. ] If you must stay on this job, then I’m not leaving your side. I hope you still have that gun.
[ kaz circles his wrist and somehow the feeling is more intimate than all his mad fantasies of kissing him. nikolai’s pulse jumps, a bob in his throat as he swallows, and he almost doesn’t hear it when kaz speaks, barely registering his lips moving. his eyes are ice now, a cold, dreary sky. ]
I keep waiting for you to stop me. [ don’t put this on him. he takes a breath, hating himself and wanting this all the more. his hand settles at kaz’s heartbeat. when i don’t want what? you? did he make him think that? of course he did. his hand creeps across his open shirt, now at bare skin, searching kaz’s eyes for anything that will tell him to pull back. ] You still let me so close. I don’t know how to make you understand what I am.
[ another breath, and then he pulls away, a shift in his eyes as he forces himself to smile. forces the cavernous ache of his want down to a hidden part of himself. bandages in hand, he reaches up to brush kaz’s hair aside, tending to the cut at his temple. ]
Is that why you think I’m touching you? [ his brow quirks, eyes catching his for a moment before resuming his work. kaz’s gaze is sharp enough to cut himself on. ] The better question is would that even work on you? My bag of tricks to make Kaz Brekker listen to me is abysmally empty. What can I do to soften those edges?
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the mention of rollins dampens the mood considerably, and he’s strangely grateful for it. a simple grunt in response to nikolai asking after his mortal enemy. the details of the story rise in his throat so swiftly that he has to force them back down. it wouldn’t do to give nikolai more pieces of himself, if he won’t receive the same in return. whatever he wants from nikolai now, it’s not a keeper. is this how inej had felt when he forced the net upon her? saints. the unflattering comparison reveals a clearer course of action than squabbling endlessly.
for a moment, kaz has him, caught in his hand like a fluttering sparrow. power rebalanced until nikolai speaks something oblique, meaning twisted into strange shapes by the way his palm runs hot (no, shivering cold) across his chest. his lungs refuse to expand, to fill with needed air, until nikolai pulls away, and kaz releases his wrist with a shuddery breath. thinks, unbidden, of all the things nikolai said he wanted. what if the only reason i let you close is because i know? despite the doubts in his heart, he leans forward to narrow the space nikolai left behind, tipping his head to better accommodate the attention to his injury. at the first tender (no, slick) brush of his hair, his lashes lower until he wills them up. some high-wires, you have to walk alone, and if you fall — the trick is in getting back up. he learned that from the best. ]
It’s one theory. [ an even thing, coupled with a sideways glance. would it work? unlikely, especially without proper follow-through. his mouth curdles. ] Another is that you’re punishing me. [ for wanting nikolai at all, or for everything he said and did at the inn. an equally unkind assumption, but what choice has nikolai left him? kaz manages to neutralise his expression when he speaks again, coarse voice lifting. ] And then there’s the third option.
[ stubborn hope flutters against his ribcage. kaz waits for nikolai to shift away, leftover bandages set aside, before seizing him by the wrists again, grip sliding to capture his bare hands in between his own gloved pair. ]
Reset the terms of our professional relationship. [ not quite a demand, hitting a lighter note. if nikolai sincerely wants to soften those edges — ] We finish the job together as partners. What you do with your share isn’t my business. [ the heart, although it pains him to relinquish his stake in nikolai. you can’t make people stay, but you can gift them more options than they thought possible. as for their relationship, well, if nikolai insists on guarding him, then why shouldn’t he be allowed to return the favour? and if nikolai means to touch him without asking — kaz lowers his mouth to the cup of their hands, blowing warm air into the cradled space. once, twice, three times. his thumb arcs over the back of nikolai’s hand, tracing simple lines. as he lifts his head and closes the clasp of their hands to keep the heat held inside it, his mouth quirks higher on one side. a match for his cocked brow. no idea whether he feels faint from the closeness or the head injury. ]
Your hands have been freezing this whole time, by the way. [ constructive criticism for the otherwise admirable nursing techniques. ] Felt like you were shoving snow in my shirt.
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and yet a part of him is still selfish, the part of him that can't stop thinking about this. he remains silent, keeps his face neutral, but kaz cracks it easily with his theories, one in particular. how can he think that? but he knows how. the whiplash of pulling away so quickly. promising one thing and then breaking it. none of this is who he is, but the monster has changed everything, dragged him back down to his lowest point. and dragged brekker down with him.
he's ready to end this, to look away, to pull back — and, as if knowing all of this, kaz traps him there with an iron grip. the bruises circling his wrists give a throb, but he hardly feels it when moments later there's his warm plume of breath, thumbs gentle against his fractured skin. he doesn't dare look away, a quiet sigh in his chest. ]
The last thing I have ever wanted to do was punish you. [ it's an unforgivable thing to offer a kind of solace and then damn someone for taking it. an unforgivable thing to give kaz a place to test his limits and then make him feel as though that was a mistake. a monster has no safety to give. he had no right. his jaw tightens. sorry isn't nearly enough. his thoughts rush forward before his mind has a chance to catch them. ] I just wanted to give you a safe place to land.
[ he shakes his head as if it might erase this moment, wishing he could slap himself. he barrels on in hopes that kaz might forget what he just said. ] It's very quaint that you would like to be partners with someone who may gently gnaw on your guts at any given moment. Almost as if you have a head injury that's currently impeding your common sense.
[ but he can't deny the thrill that moves through him at the way kaz clasps his hands, his boldness heartening him even now. can't stop the way his mouth matches his almost-smile. he reaches up to — what? his hands move mere inches before stopping, never leaving this circle of warmth, his mind a sudden tumult of want and agony and hope. and stupidity. his next breath pulls tighter, his fingers twitching like he's only barely stopping himself from moving again. ]
So repay the favor. [ quietly, like he knows he shouldn't be speaking at all. don't do this to him. he ignores the warning, pressing on as if he is the one currently taking leave of his senses. he doesn't even have a head injury to blame. ] Take off your gloves and let me feel your hands.
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his waiting pays dividends. a benediction. let me feel your hands, of a pair with his first confession. the kaz of now knows something he didn’t then: touch, and the feeling of being made real by it, has eluded nikolai for some time, too.
sat in the fork of nikolai’s legs, kaz slides his good knee up to improve his leverage and bracket nikolai on one side. he need only tug nikolai inches forward before he can rest their linked hands in his lap. keeps one gloved hand half-covering nikolai’s two, fingers soothing over the bruises at his wrist. the aim isn’t for nikolai to touch him that low — well — not in a fucking cave. presently, kaz doubts he could stand without dizzying, so he’ll call this a strategic respite to justify his selfishness. ice eyes thaw, brightening with mischief as he lifts his free hand to his mouth, catching the white tips of his glove in teeth and removing it with a jerk of his sharp jaw. the thick fabric falls away, cold nipping at his fingers. no matter. the fever will set in soon enough. he swaps hands, now grasping nikolai’s wrists in a shackle of soft skin — as if to say these hands are hostages, these hands are mine now — when he repeats the ungloving, head tipped back even further to expose the column of his throat, eyes momentarily closed.
can’t stop. he squeezes nikolai’s hands softly, bringing one to rest at his good knee and the other directly to his mouth, first to brush lips over the pulse throbbing in his wrist, then to kiss the centre of his black-streaked palm. a hitch of his breath into the contact (nikolai’s flesh at once firm and melting in his grasp). his other hand unbuttons nikolai’s coat from the bottom, just enough to slip under his layers as before, charting that fleetingly familiar trail across the coarse hair of his stomach, gentling up his injured ribs, skidding around his hip, and settling low on his spine to usher him close, closer, closest despite the tremor in his arm. he doesn’t take nikolai’s fingers in his mouth, unsure if he can without gagging on the sensation (but he wishes nikolai would encourage his efforts). his chin tilts upwards in defiance, stare unbroken. ]
My offer is final. [ treat him as a partner, or he’ll be impossible to reach. ] Do I have you still? [ his attention, his reluctant agreement. kaz knows better than to ask for all of him as was promised, however badly he longs for it. he kisses nikolai’s fingertips, only pausing to murmur, ]
I wouldn’t let you close if I didn’t know — if you weren’t what you are. [ if he were easier, whole and unbroken; if he weren’t burdened by secrets and monstrosity. nikolai’s dimming light is challenge enough, equally exposing and galvanising, for a shadow like him. a quirk of kaz’s head, tone nearly arch if it weren’t strained from both holding back and keeping himself anchored. ] You’re not the first person to try me. [ not a brag, but rather a careful hint at a secondary truth: you’re the first person to succeed. does he know that? ] But no one’s ever — there’s never been anyone like you. [ immediately. ] I do know how that sounds. [ wry acknowledgment of the irony in his choice of person, evident in the twitch of his mouth, recognition of nikolai’s physical threat. ] I know.
[ nikolai affords him a different safety than he would prefer, but kaz hopes he understands the value in it after his diatribe on revealing weakness in ketterdam. still, he anticipates hearing those truths will be too much for nikolai, and kaz will lose him again — so he chooses recklessness, catching one, then two, of nikolai’s scorched fingertips between his lips, sucking on them a second. a chill bolts down his spine, water rushing in his ears. breath held to stop the decay from filling his lungs, his eyes flicker open to catch nikolai’s stare as a flush bursts across his cheeks. if either of them had died today or last week — he parts his lips, to let nikolai push for more or startle away from him.
kaz tells himself he can handle either daunting scenario. ]
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the killing blow is the brush of kaz's lips to his palm. nikolai shuts his eyes, wanting to tear himself away, wanting to demand that kaz remember everything he's done to him, a numberless list of sins and unintentional cruelties. he knows there will be more, because he knows he will fail again despite his best efforts. the thought jolts him out of his own head, blinking at kaz's unexpectedly sweet face, concentration tightening his features. he's staying, he realizes. he's staying here with me. his breath catches as kaz's nimble fingers find their way beneath his clothes, warming against the small of his back. feels the strength in his arm when he pulls him closer to a place he can't escape.
have you been beaten down so badly that you can't get back up again? his demon rumbles in his chest as nikolai curls his fingers into the waiting warmth of kaz's mouth, gently pulling him closer as his other hand cradles his cheek, thumb swiping across the growing flush coloring his skin. remember who you are. he has no right to this — to kaz, to this moment, to this need inside of him. but he's never had a right to anything. not his name, not his crown. you have to earn it. ]
There is no one like me, Brekker. [ a flash of a smile, his golden eyes warming. he draws a tentative breath, fingertips stroking the sudden heat of kaz's tongue. he withdraws his hand, wet fingers moving to his chest again to leave a slick trail across his skin. he stumbles over a nipple and pinches, wanting to see the heat grow on kaz's face, bringing his mouth close so only a breath remains between them, eyes shuttering as his voice drops to a whisper. ] You have no idea how much hope lives inside of you. And how much I need it.
[ then there's the crush of their mouths, cracking open an ache he's tried to stitch closed, a moan rising unbidden in his throat. his hand can't decide where to go, sliding down his chest, over the cut of his hip, blunt nails leaving a trail across his skin as he curls his fingers into the small of his back and draws him nearer, a mirror of kaz's boldness. his teeth catch his bottom lip, eyes briefly fluttering open to make sure kaz is still with him. he nestles his grip at the nape of his neck, keeping him close. ]
Tell me something you've never done. Something you've wanted. [ breathless words between breathless kisses, too greedy for this to pull away. his lips move to the corner of his mouth, dragging lower as he tilts kaz's head back to kiss the scar beneath his jaw. ] Anything. Anything at all.
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he loosens the hand on nikolai’s own to bracelet down his arm and then fall away, steadying on his thigh to relieve the ache in his shoulder. the cold-wet-hot trail over his chest makes him shiver, and he leans into the touch, inhaling a sharp breath as nikolai tweaks his nipple. he should be terrified. he should end this before it buries him. he winds his arm tighter at nikolai’s back, trim nails digging into firm muscle. maybe he’s the one who has you. can feel the fever suffuse his skin, heating all the way down to his collar. ]
Nikolai. [ half-annoyed, half-thrilled by his sudden return to form. it’s faith (in himself, his crows, this infuriating man), not hope, that he possesses — except arguing the point would only betray a variation on sentimentality. better to lower his lashes and kiss nikolai back ferociously, licking into his mouth, behind his teeth; to help nikolai draw him into an embrace (touching too many places at once, alighting every nerve with panic, no, want); to let himself be what nikolai claims he is — what he needs. it’s only been days since kaz last had him, and still the intensity of the attention startles him. he savours the taste of his moan, barely registering how its echo rumbles back from inside him.
mustering strength in his free hand, he rakes his fingers through nikolai’s hair, closing his fist and tugging lightly. higher thoughts dissipate in one kiss and the next. he feels like he’s losing his mind, unable to focus on the rising waters or the question of what he wants. all the needs he choked down clatter about. things that he refused to name until nikolai coaxed him closer and started touching him the way he wanted before he knew he wanted it. impossible to judge how much he can take without dooming this affair to rot. kaz thinks back to nikolai’s fingers pressing into his mouth, the slick trail on his skin. his pulse thuds in his throat as nikolai’s lips brush over his scar. oh.
this time, he pulls harder on nikolai’s golden hair, a demanding drag upward. dark-eyed hunger deepens his blues, world narrowed from the harbour to the cave to nikolai lantsov. ] Just want you. [ too much. more than anything. he steals another harsh kiss before he noses along his ridged cheekbone. the hand at his back pulls away to search for nikolai’s arm, sliding the length of it to unhook the fingers at his hip. orientation by touch alone. then, a rasp in nikolai's ear. ] Want your mouth. [ on him, drowning him in place of the saltwater. he guides their shared grip to the clasp of his trousers as his teeth graze the shell of nikolai’s ear. his hand shakes. of course it does. ]
Will you — [ he buries his face in nikolai's neck, smearing kisses along the hollow of his throat. ]
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Yes. [ his eyes turn heavenward as kaz mouths along his throat, the shimmering ceiling losing focus, his fingers already loosening his trousers where kaz guides his hand. it's a small start to have him vocalize his wants this way, and nikolai finds that he longs to know more, to hear every desire, every wish hidden inside the puzzle of kaz brekker. he wants to give form to all of them, to show him that this can be good, that this is something he can not only have but take from him as he pleases. there's an apology in his mouth when he finds his lips again, eyes pressed tightly shut. ] You have me now.
[ they break apart as he unwinds the disheveled furs warming his neck, tossing them behind kaz to use as a cushion, because in the next moment he's hooking his arms beneath his knees to pull his hips toward him, lifting them gently as his hand slides inside his open trousers to curl his (warm, now) fingers around his cock. gentle strokes as he eases his legs over his shoulders, taking care with his right. ]
Tell me if it's all right. [ he brings his mouth close, warm breath puffing across his cock. this is different from kissing, different from getting him off with just his hand. vulnerable in a way that kaz has not allowed himself to be with him, yet. he glances at kaz's shoulder, then slowly reaches for his hand, curling their fingers together. ] Or if it's not. [ a squeeze, gentle. ] We can always start again.
[ his tongue laps out to lick a teasing stripe along the underside of his hardening cock, taking a breath before sliding it into the heat of his mouth. it's been years since he's done this — before the demon, before his return to ravka and the whirlwind of chaos that came with it. pleasure ignites low in his stomach at the drag of his lips, the velvety texture heavy against his tongue. he licks moisture from the tip of his cock, cheeks hollowing and sandy lashes lowered in concentration. if this is the first time, he's going to make damn sure that no one will come along and top his performance.
his eyes flicker up once, trying to gauge kaz's reaction, trying to imagine what could be whizzing through the fever of his mind, spit collecting on his cock as he uses his hand to stroke him firmly while he takes a breath. when he goes down again he takes him deeper, deeper, letting him push against the back of his throat and squeezing his eyes shut as he holds him there around the rumble of a groan. he wants to see the flush grow across kaz's skin, wants to hear the sounds he pulls from deep inside of him, a challenge and a desperate need rolled into one. his lashes are wet when he pulls back, his breath ragged, but it leaves his mouth no less enthusiastic, delightedly working him over at a steady pace, then faster and faster still — eager to please, hungry to offer up the uncomplicated heat of desire. ]
Tell me — [ breathless whispers between the wet sound of his mouth. ] Say what you feel.
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an unreadable expression overtakes him as nikolai uses his own clothes to cushion his head. before he can overthink it, nikolai tugs him forward, and he tips back, propped low on his elbows in a final defense against the inherent vulnerability of being prone, mouth parted on a surprised breath. unease barely finds purchase in his whirring, ever calculating mind, knocked off-centre by nikolai’s calloused fingers on his cock. he sucks in a breath, watchful gaze still focused on nikolai being focused on him. no longer trapped in his head, perhaps, but instead here. with me.
that line of thinking is cut short by nikolai lifting his legs, which kaz worries he may not be able to help unstick, but no, he wants this. he can do this. his stomach flips. the tumult of the barge flashes behind his eyelids, but he forces them open to replace it with nikolai, looking handsome and disheveled and intent (the last of which, he hasn’t seen in days, with his fatigue). a hundred stupid, fond ideas fracture his concentration as he returns the squeeze of his fingers, thumb sweeping over the back of nikolai’s hand. ]
I will. [ gruff voice thick with want, he finally flattens to the ground, a supine position that steals all the air from his lungs in a rushing exhale. might have banged his head if he hadn’t, though, body jerking in nikolai’s firm grasp as he’s swallowed by the wet heat of his mouth. ] Ah — [ habit chokes out the sound, as it would for an expression of pain, but it’s not that. saints, it’s not that. his free hand twitches, confused and out of place at his side until he bends it back beside his head, curling into those ridiculous, royal furs. heavy-lidded eyes don’t dare leave nikolai’s bowed head, lest he be transmuted a dead thing, even though kaz would like to hide the way a baritone gasp startles his features wider.
a visible, losing battle for control plays out in the slackening and tightening lines of his face. and then there’s the peculiar ache in his thighs — an irrational feeling telling him that nikolai belongs here, in the v of his legs. too much and not enough. kaz arches into his mouth at the same moment nikolai’s takes him deep, and he moans brokenly. a blizzard of sensation in the interplay of mouth-hand-mouth over his cock, unlike anything he's ever had. the quick, slick sounds interrupt the waves crashing in his ears, but it’s nikolai’s voice that anchors him. ]
Feels — overwhelming. [ worse, he likes that it feels that way, insides made molten. nikolai deserves a better answer than that. ] It’s good. [ breathless, in the midst of another doomed fight to keep his voice level, unaccustomed to delivering praise. yet he’s struck by the terrifying urge to reflect all of nikolai’s light back on him. ] Of course you’re good. [ rough-edged, like he’s annoyed about it, but it’s a toothless thing. honeyed tongue, clever mouth, nimble hands. of course, of course, of course. he groans louder, hips hitching. ] You should see how you look. [ like he’s the one being ravished instead of the reverse, like every fantasy kaz has had in the last six months but better. he reaches up to seize nikolai by the hair, but ends up gentling it aside instead, fingers swiping wetness from the soft skin beneath his eye. he wishes this position were more conducive to kissing.
his eyes close, head tilted back on a ragged moan. despite the cold, heat flushes his chest. sweat under his jaw, beading down his throat, at the small of his back, the bend of his knees. water blurs his vision, the feeling of nikolai’s hand slipping from his even though he knows it isn’t. his grip tightens. a suspended breath fights the rising tide for a moment, but — ]
Wait. [ damn it. a flash of blue, panicked but not lost, darting over nikolai to reform him in his mind. heartbeat hammering and settling without the frantic urging of nikolai’s mouth. okay. his free hand finds the cave floor at his side, cold and unmistakable. he still wants this badly; that’s what made it dangerous in the first place. ] Just wait. I’m fine. [ kaz waits for nausea that never comes and forces the shake from his voice. ] Okay. [ a sharp nod, concentration wrinkling his brow but a hesitant sort of quirk at his mouth. ]
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another harsh slide of his cock, another swallow, another ragged moan pulled from kaz's lips. encouragement rumbles in his throat — and then there's the sudden shift in kaz's tone, his body stilling, tense not from his mouth but from something else. nikolai slows, eyes studying his face, flushed, marred with the edge of panic. he says nothing, but soothes his thumb along kaz's tightened grip, squeezing gently, watching to see if he should stop, if he should come back up to steady him, if this is too much all at once. his i'm fine isn't entirely convincing, but the set of his brow says that he's still here, the pull at the corner of his mouth more reassuring than his words. ]
It's good for me, too. [ something else to ground him. he wants this, too. he licks the taste of kaz from his lips, wet and flushed, throat rough, then drags kisses along the side of his cock, taking him in hand once more and using his thumb to slide through the pearly moisture collecting at his tip. every hitch of his hips, every arch of his spine he commits to memory, every movement with his mouth that drags out a jagged moan. things to remember for later, when he does this again — a thought accompanied by a flurry of complications that need picking apart. just stay in this moment. advice he needs to take as much as he gives it to kaz. he strokes him lazily, enjoying the view of him on his back, his skin slick with heat, his muscles tight with pleasure. he grins, his eyes twinkling. ] You should see how you look.
[ ravishing, on the tip of his tongue, a (true) joke he keeps to himself. when he dips his head down once more it's with renewed purpose, messy and eager, angling his hips higher to meet his mouth. he watches kaz through the shutter of his lashes until he can't anymore, eyes pressed shut the deeper he takes him. he wants more than just this, wants to strip him bare and acquaint himself with every part of his body — and has to stop his thoughts because he wants more than even that. how he can possibly earn it, he doesn't know. there's a moan in his throat when he swallows again, a choked breath paired with the drag of his lips. if he could speak he would tell kaz to let go, to empty his thoughts, to allow himself to fall, because this time he'll meet him instead of shutting him out. this time he won't fail him. ]
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but the thing that helps the most is nikolai stealing the compliment he worked very hard on, thanks, and turning it back on him. a short, barked laugh eases the tense line of his body a vital fraction before he coils in different, better places when nikolai swallows him again. for once, kaz allows himself to be led and adapts to match nikolai’s rhythm, rewarded with a ratcheting sort of pleasure as he rocks eagerly into his mouth. still tense and sensitive enough that every slide feels a little devastating, cock thickening on nikolai’s tongue. as the colour in his cheeks intensifies, the same hot, shivery feeling runs rivulets down his back, building low. his gaze flicks to the ceiling, another steadying count of breaths, before nikolai does something that makes him cry out.
no idea how he went so long without this. no idea how much of it he can take. it feels like he’s trying to catch up with all the sensations, swept up in the current. ]
Nikolai. [ riding on a shaky exhale, approving. all the praise he can’t articulate wrapped up in his name. nikolai feels as good as he looks, no, as he sounds — the velvety heat of his mouth drawing surprised, wounded noises with each deep glide, the warm curve of his shoulders spreading his thighs so they ache pleasantly, moans vibrating up his cock to assuage any lingering doubts that nikolai wants anything but this. kaz brings his (cold, now) hand to tangle in nikolai’s hair and pulls. encouraging, urging. ]
Like that, ah — Nikolai. [ to mean again, more. maybe just to say his name, when it signals this precise location in time and space; this person who holds the lion's share of the trust and faith he has left. canting his head to the side, kaz watches through low lashes, over the rapid rise and fall of his chest, to memorise the set of nikolai’s brows, the shape of his reddened mouth stretched, the way his throat works. thinks, distantly, that it’ll be harder to put nikolai to bed each night and leave before he’s hardly thinking anything at all. from there, his lung capacity narrows to little more than pants, chest shuddering. waterline at his waist now, but that's fine. he can make it back to shore.
his grip on nikolai’s hand strengthens, pressing their shared clasp against his thigh like he means to sear it into the skin. all the muscles in his body pull taut, good leg cinching tighter on nikolai’s back. a feeling he knows but doesn’t think has ever been quite this overwhelming, flooding every twitching limb. fingers scrape over nikolai’s scalp for another rough pull — final warning — and he comes down nikolai's throat with a shudder, eyes finally shuttering again as a punched-out sound escapes in a rush of air. small, stuttered gasps chase the aftershocks until he relaxes, secure in nikolai's hold. ]
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it's not until kaz softens against his tongue that he slowly slides him out of his mouth, tucking him back into his trousers so he doesn't have to feel the cold. he finally lets go out of his hand to ease his legs down, then climbs above him to take in the full view of his gloriously disheveled face, sweaty and flushed, his sharp eyes gone soft with pleasure. nikolai's jaw aches a bit, the feeling coming back to his reddened lips, but he leans down to kiss him anyway, satisfying an immediate want with enthusiasm as he licks into his warm mouth. impulsively, his hand skitters down to press between kaz's legs, lips quirking. ]
I should drag you back to the ship now. [ he mouths along his jawline while lamenting the fact that they're not in his quarters, in his bed, where he might be free to loosen the buttons of his shirt and strip him naked. he wants to acquaint his mouth with every scar littering his skin, wants to know the story behind each one, even if he knows he can't take such things without offering the same in return. if he really means to cut past these walls, he'll have to pay the toll to earn it.
but they're in a cave in the deep underground of fjerda, and with that comes some measure of leniency. his palm teases kaz's overly sensitive cock with innocent pressure, his mouth moving up to kiss the cut of his cheek, the flutter of his eyelids. ]
Where did you get this one? [ he relents his assault so that kaz might have a fair chance at answering, tracing the scar beneath his jaw instead. his eyes drop away, roaming over his collar as if it's suddenly of interest. ] And when I first let the monster out back in Ketterdam, what did you really think?
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Thought you’d be able to wait. [ for the town, the ship. a little slurry, almost lost in between two sloppy kisses. no, he hadn’t anticipated nikolai laying him out fully in moments, hadn’t thought he was wanted that much — ] Don't you dare ruin these trousers, Lantsov. [ a hoarse warning, even as his breath catches and hips twitch into the cradle of nikolai’s hand. he’d liked it the last time nikolai pushed him for more, drawing his focus from the tumult of the waves to the shivery sensation in the now, and he likes it even more now.
it takes a moment for the meaning of i should drag you back to the ship to spark over him. not propelled by threat, but by desire: the want for everything that nikolai spoke of on the beach. terrifying. galvanising. he sighs into the soft kisses on his face, features made looser than ever, and slides his free hand back under nikolai’s shirt, roaming up his chest. after letting nikolai do this for him, it feels — not easy, but easier to touch him like this, like the strength that comes after surviving the snap of a broken bone. if the body can weather that, why not more? ]
Hm. [ eyes slanting up at him, kaz tips his head at an oblique angle to allow nikolai a clear view of the thin scar tissue and conjures a lie to his questioning. then, he sets it aside. ] I was 14, the last time I was in prison. [ hasn’t been caught since. ] Someone wagered that slitting my throat would boost their stock. [ nonchalant, over almost dying that young. the snag of his mouth to the side says he repayed the piss poor bet — but it flattens into a neutral line, when nikolai chases one question with another. ]
[ his rasp evens, gaze sharpening. ] Didn’t think anything, for a moment. [ kaz is rarely surprised by anything, let alone a reveal of that scale. it stupefied him. ] Then I wondered how it worked, and how I might use it — or the knowledge of it, as you guessed. [ and then he hadn’t attempted either, the same courtesy extended to jesper’s fabrikator abilities so long ago. why? he had felt like a boy, seeing a magic trick for the first time, and wanting more than anything to take it apart. nikolai’s unease had been a fascinating, secondary concern at that time. now, a mild curiosity lifts kaz's brows, and he shifts his hand to grip nikolai’s jaw, turning his gaze back to centre. ] Anything can be a tool, a lever, if you know where, when to apply the right amount of pressure.
[ would roll his shoulders in a careless gesture, if he weren’t both injured and prone, instead splaying his palm high on nikolai’s chest, near his heart. kaz knows it's not the answer nikolai feared, but he can't say whether it's the one he wanted. it's true, regardless. ]
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nearly murdered at fourteen. nikolai tries to imagine that sort of life, all the weight kaz carried then and still carries now. they’re both intimately acquainted with death but in vastly different ways — kaz, in prison at such a tender age; nikolai, joining the infantry and learning firsthand of the sort of hopelessness his country had to offer. he wonders what sort of person kaz might have been if he was allowed to be a scholar. his direct competition, to be sure. his lips travel over the scar as if he can erase it, something tightening in him when he imagines the seconds directly following such a gruesome act. was he afraid? how could he not be? ]
Did you think you might die? [ the question feels hushed, hidden somewhere beneath his skin. his hand tightens around his cock, eyelids fluttering open briefly as he fits their mouths together once more. what does this have to do with anything? stretching his limits, making him comfortable enough to do so. asking him questions of death seems to be the opposite of what he wants to accomplish. he takes a breath, his hand slowly stroking kaz with gentle care. another question presses to the tip of his tongue, and he tells himself not to ask. it doesn’t matter. and yet his mouth moves without permission anyway, just as it always does around kaz. ] You didn’t make my secret a tool.
[ not a question, but the why didn’t you feels understood. slow strokes, firm and even, like he needs kaz to be off-center for this. his mind moves too quickly, parsing through memories and getting stuck on one, mouth curving into a smile against the corner of kaz’s lips even if it’s the last thing he feels. ] You know — after I did that, half of my crew wouldn’t even sit at the same table with me. Made for a very awkward journey back home. I’d thought about it before, but I think that was the moment I knew I’d already lost my crown.
[ he doesn’t realize how much he’s said until after he’s said it, blinking away some unfocused point his eyes have settled on. if only they knew how much worse his affliction has gotten. it’s one thing to see a man command a demon at his side. quite another for a man to sprout fangs and claws. he’s quick to smile again, his eyes clearing as if the storm cloud was never there. teases along his cock again. ]
How many secrets of mine do you really hold, Brekker?
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as nikolai mouths over the scar, his eyes close. this, too, marks a terrifyingly intimate act: another knife to the throat. black water shimmers behind his eyelids, but he blinks it away. ] No. [ the memory fails to frighten him now, even through the clarifying lens of distance. kaz kisses the corner of nikolai’s mouth, then the apple of his cheek, nosing into his freckles. ] All I had to do was kill him first. [ easy, after a slice too shallow, knife gripped at the wrong angle. cracked eyes narrow on nikolai, gauging his reaction. they soon shutter again, with one yawning kiss into the next. his breaths pick up, skipping here and there as nikolai strokes him. ]
I didn’t. [ his palm gentles over each rung of nikolai’s ribs until he finds the healing knot. kaz knows what nikolai means to ask. old answers form and collapse: investments and alliances, stocks and favours. the truth buckles them all: i liked you. he wants to slide it into the gap between kisses, a well-aimed dagger. i like you still. not in the same way now as then. well, maybe that had been there, too, glittering in the solarium, when kaz decided this little prince was cleverer than the rest and trusted him with something more precious than his own wants — the ghafas.
the gift of another secret shifts him into a different key, at once alert and seemingly blank. his chest tightens to think of nikolai losing part of his crew and the crown both. when kaz forfeited his final act of revenge, he kept ketterdam, the crows, and the club. without them — what would he be? the man helping inej roust slavers and other monsters, the fool who left his home to retrieve a relic for the dragon queen and her most valued lieutenant. it reeks of heroism. ill-fitting. and what is nikolai without his crown? something heroic. something bright, despite his protests.
kaz kisses nikolai’s feigned nonchalance away quickly and soundly, teeth catching on his bottom lip. the muscles in his stomach tense, want edging back into need under nikolai’s expert fingers. ]
I’ll take more. [ a sideways smile, roguish in his way — but genuine, too. his thumb settles at the high centre of nikolai’s sternum, soothing little circles there. ] Give them to me, Nikolai. What you lost, what you want. [ kaz tips their foreheads together, eyes alight with desire, cheeks dark with it, and shudders, the motion rolling through him as he thrusts his leaking cock into the circle of nikolai’s fist. ] I’ll keep them for you. [ say what you feel. ]
You know I — [ he falters, plucks a smaller truth from his collection. ] I like it more this way. [ a purposeful roll of his hips to explain what he means. this. the rawness of it, the added intensity that distracts, the way he thinks, wildly, that he could do this again and again, if only nikolai would keep touching him. he grinds the heel of his free hand against nikolai’s cock, pleased to find him hard and waiting. ] Do you?
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the touch at his ribs brings him back, the answer to his question. when was the last time kaz might have been afraid of dying? when was the last time you were? his breath catches when kaz reaches the still-tender part of his ribs, a reminder of their near demise just a few short days ago. at least he's healing better than kaz, his shoulder still festering with the darkness nikolai embedded beneath his skin. another thing to be careful of. another reminder of why he shouldn't risk this at all. ]
A very practical approach to attempted murder. [ he won't do him the disservice of pity, meeting kaz's fleeting glance evenly, happy to swallow down the hitches in his breath. life has not been kind to him, but it's made him the man he's currently finding great pleasure in kissing, for better or for worse — and the fact that he can do this at all means that life hasn't sucked all of the hope from him yet. ] If you'd grown up with me in Ravka, you would've been drafted into the King's Army when times grew desperate and sent to your death in battle. I suppose prison at least offers the existence of scales to tip in your favor.
[ his mouth stills as if waiting for elaboration, then deepens the kiss when none comes. maybe it goes back to what he'd explained while nikolai stitched closed the wound across his ribs all those months ago. your stock is volatile. or maybe it's something else, something to do with that odd sensation that came the moment he first met kaz brekker and continued to flare up each time they had an unlawful rendezvous. the rush of adrenaline for the unknown. a new puzzle to silently pick apart in the vast stretches of time that separated them. the first time they'd met in the solarium nikolai was sure he was meeting with a highly-skilled thief and nothing more, but kaz had not only sussed him out in moments, but surprised him by not asking for wealth or status or power. he had to have known that asking to find the wraith's family also meant he was handing nikolai a weakness that he could exploit. he remembers amending his assessment of him from criminal prodigy with abnormally sharp cheekbones to as painfully human as the rest of us, just with abnormally sharp cheekbones.
kaz's teeth pulling at his lip draws a sigh out of him, his practiced smile crumbling before it can form. ] You don't want that weight. [ his eyes flutter open, taking in the dusky color across his cheeks, the slick wetness on his fingers. he's never put into words all that he's lost, doesn't even know if he can. ] I don't know that it counts as loss if it's mostly self-made. I believe it falls under learning experience, then. I always did need my lessons to be hands-on.
[ what does it mean that he would keep them? he watches the stutter of his breath, feels the tremor that passes through him. not even his own melancholia can keep his smile away a second time, kaz's taut confession paired with the sudden motion of his hand knocking loose a startled, breathless laugh. it's the first time he's given real voice to an opinion regarding his own desires. ]
I do. I'm rather curious to see how much you can take. [ pleasure and guilt coil together, his eyes briefly pressing shut around an uneven groan before he leans into a messy kiss, hips pushing into kaz's hand. he tightens his fingers, stroking kaz roughly, watching him with hazy eyes. ] I like how you feel in my mouth. In my hand. When you're wet and needy. I just like how you feel. Saints, I could watch you fall apart a hundred times and still want more. Will you keep touching me, just like that? Touch me the way you would touch yourself. I want to know.
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the thought only crystalises into something sayable, when nikolai stills. ]
[ firm, but not harsh. ] There is no place where I grew up with you. [ the crown would have no need of him in the alternate world where he isn’t kaz brekker (or even kaz rietveld), a ravkan boy turned canon fodder. he would have died, absolutely, torn to ribbons on the field like his father or shot on the frontlines. a soft thing from the country, who wouldn’t be half as intelligent, without the motivation and freedom to study everything he needed to survive. or half as closed off. that kaz might have been able to touch others and release the fluttering wants in his throat. might have had a brother a little while longer, too, but none of it matters. it isn’t real. lightly, ] Stay where I am, for a change.
[ no detours into his branching, possible deaths or the countless near-misses across his short life. he’ll no doubt face the darkness one day, when his devil’s luck runs out — when he makes a killing mistake. and what do you call this? nikolai’s claws in his hand, in his shoulder; the teeth at his throat, in life, in a dream. his shoulder smarts from all the movement. a gentleman’s bet. ]
With the me that’s really here, not the boy you imagine. [ caught in the jaws of the monster, bleeding out on a battlefield in ravka, tucked away somewhere safe, asking for things he doesn’t want. ] Then you’d know I decide what I want. [ and nikolai will choose what he gives in return, an exchange like any other. he sighs. ] And that I believe all our losses are self-made. [ even his first, certainly his last. (who else could doom dirtyhands but himself?) every loss flares from a choice, as simple as a decision to care, to go left instead of right into the alley where someone grabs you — luck is a factor, but there are no gods or saints guiding her. a bad hand can still be played with adept strategy, if only in one near-impossible scenario. those are the odds kaz has counted on all his life. ]
Of course you are. [ affection threatens his wrecked but otherwise neutral features, mercifully waylaid by nikolai’s mouth. you’ve been testing my limits since you met me. the thought shocks a hoarse laugh from his chest, breaking the kiss as he pushes his hand through the neck of nikolai’s shirt to tilt his face away — ] You’re insufferable. [ — and then swiftly guide him back, palm cupping his cheek. he tells himself it’s better to leave it there, lest he irritate his injured side. the concurrent rush of praise and touch widens the set of his eyes, and his mouth parts on a low moan. when nikolai looks at him like that, it feels like an unbreakable tether, even as his hands filch the air from his lungs. he won’t last, muscles strung tight.
will you keep touching me? breath quickening, an instinctive fear twists in his chest. deft fingers find their way into nikolai’s trousers, opening them enough to free his cock for a tentative stroke — that stalls when kaz feels him twitch. not bad. a surer pump of his hand. not bad at all. to live in the barrel is to know bodies of all kinds, even without touching them, but he’s never known nikolai’s body, gaze lowering to memorise the flurry of movement between them, to marvel at the searing image of his cock in his bare hand —
suddenly, he lifts said hand away. his cocked brow assures nikolai that this delay differs from the last, allowing kaz to lick a stripe up his palm. eyes intent even through the fog, he squeezes nikolai’s cock again, thumb arcing over the head and then dragging alongside a vein. ]
Like that? [ a tease, a tell. he doesn't know. kaz leverages the palm at nikolai’s cheek to smudge kisses along the underside of his jaw. the way you would touch yourself. an expert twist of the wrist, jacking him steadily. his voice thins, breathless. ] Like this?
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Kaz. [ his name wrapped in a quiet breath. he looks away and then back again just as quickly, a hundred things on his tongue. stay. leave. kiss me. i have to let you go. he swallows them all down, tries to listen to one voice instead of the many pulling him in clashing directions. why did you have to decide that you wanted me? the hand between his legs stills into soft motions, his other hand rising to run the pad of his thumb across the flush standing out on kaz's cheeks. it's warm here, in the space where their breaths mingle, pale skin damp beneath his fingertips. stay where i am. maybe he should learn to take direction. he exhales, his chest falling, wry amusement in the sparkle of his eyes. ] Once and only once will I heed your advice. I'm here, where you are.
[ and he finds he doesn't mind the space. his mouth presses to his in a soft kiss, a gentle promise not to stray from this path. the sound that kaz makes — did he just laugh? — pulls a smile to his lips, followed by a laugh of his own when kaz pushes his face away. ] That's common knowledge, Brekker. I've always been insufferable.
[ his laughs cuts off into a groan as kaz sneaks his way into his trousers, his cock twitching in his fingers from the sudden attention. another first, kaz taking his desires into his own hand. nikolai fixes his gaze keenly on him as he wets his palm with his tongue, a rush of heat spreading up his neck from the sight. he's imagined it countless times, before they ever touched each other this way — kaz fisting his own cock in the darkness of his bed, the quietly rough noises he would make, the shudder of his body beneath his own touch. he blinks and kaz has him in hand again, drawing out a strained moan as his hips cant eagerly for more. ]
Yes. It's good. You're good. [ his hand quivers, fingers loose around kaz's cock. his mouth is like fire against his jaw, and he shifts swiftly to catch him in a disheveled kiss, his tongue pressing past his lips as his head empties, narrowing down to the pulse of heat and wet fingers. kaz's bare fingers, wringing a moan from his throat. skilled, despite never having touched him before. was there really no one? he finds he doesn't want to know if there was.
he can hardly keep pace, but — never being one to shy away from a challenge — he renews his strokes with ruthless vigor, panting against the heat of his mouth. when was the last time anyone touched him like this? he catches his thoughts before they stray, one hand sliding into kaz's hair, his touch decidedly gentle, careful of the cut at his temple. his fingers curl at the nape of his neck, keeping him close. another keening sound from his lips, another shudder as he presses his eyes shut. it's good — better than good, the sweetest ache that sends heat pooling low inside of him, his spine arching in a rush of breath. ]
Wait — wait, not yet. [ his fingers clamp around kaz's wrist, pulling his hand away, and then he's sliding back down between his legs, taking his cock in his mouth once more, tousled blond falling into his eyes. a groan rumbles deep in his throat as he swallows him down as far as he can, desperate to pull another cry out of him, to feel the way pleasure seizes his body. he pulls off with a gasp, his bright eyes hazy with lust. ] Come for me. And then make me come. [ his breath shudders over his glistening cock before he slides it past his lips again, eyes closing as he skims his hand blindly along kaz's side, turning his palm up for him to take if he needs to, or even if he simply wants to. ]
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he kisses the fever in the hollow of nikolai’s throat, anxious for it to spread higher, to stain his tanned skin. a scrape of teeth wills it to do so, before nikolai steers them back into a kiss that makes him groan, lips parting so nikolai can have whatever he wants. even better are the sounds hushed into his ear, crackling down his spine. he swallows as many as he can, but his own hiccuping gasps disrupt his efforts. you’re good dislodges a sharper noise in his throat.
this time, when nikolai takes him in his mouth, kaz jerks and cries out — a sound that reverbs back in the cave, starker than anything up to this point. doesn’t come then and there but it’s a near thing, only thrown off by nikolai abruptly letting him go moments prior. heart thunderous, his thighs spread instinctively to accommodate nikolai again. the wild thought that he belongs there, that everything between his legs is for nikolai, recurs. what does he do with his hands again? kaz refuses to hide his face, but he’s tempted. colour splashed from his cheeks to his chest, his cracked open features alight on nikolai, more debauched than anything he could have imagined previously, with his limited resources. the demand should smart, it does, but it also heats him from the inside out. and there’s the immolation, melting the resistance in his muscles. he nods without meaning to, a quick, repeated motion that’s more desperate than anything he could have said. as soon as nikolai offers his hand, kaz grasps it like he means to haul him to safety or hang on for dear life, fingers curled around his wrist. ]
Nikolai. [ pleading, the emphasis in all the wrong places. he remembers that he can tangle his hand in nikolai’s hair at the exact moment he does it, carding back the waves hiding his glittering hazel eyes. kaz wants to watch more than anything, but he can’t, holding that image in his mind as his eyes screw shut, head tipping back. ] Fuck, Nikolai.
[ his climax rebuilds, quick and intense, voice cracking over another attempt at nikolai’s name. kaz comes hard, sunlight flashing behind his eyelids. a rock of his hips off the ground, into the clutch of nikolai’s mouth, his safe grip. his cock pulses in time with the waves of pleasure crashing over him. he knows that nikolai won’t stop until it seems like too much — and kaz finds he wouldn’t want him too — allowing a whimper to escape his teeth. even when nikolai relents, he struggles to catch his breath, chest visibly working, expression near-awestruck at the sight of nikolai above him.
he adjusts their grip into a proper clasp, tugging their linked hands to draw nikolai up and over him before letting go. hitching up on his elbows, kaz moves the hand in his hair to fist in his shirt, dragging him in for a harsh kiss, so he can taste himself again and suck on nikolai’s tongue. palm flattening against nikolai’s chest, leg hooking around him to grind him close, burning with oversensitivity at the contact but repeating the motion regardless — he knows what that means, what he wants even if he’s never committed it to fantasy. another day, if nikolai will allow him that close again.
an idea jolts the dizzyingly attractive blur of mouth to mouth, skin to skin, into focus. kaz musters the leverage to push nikolai onto his back, more secure in their previous position. his mouth cracks a lop-sided grin, as wild as he was on the beach, when he finally takes nikolai in hand, smearing precome down the length of his cock and working him over with ruthless, precise movements. he slides the tight circle of his fingers down to fondle his balls, to brush the sensitive space behind them. ]
You were so good. Perfect. [ a rush of words, light-headed after his orgasm. he initiates a bitey kiss and resumes jacking his hand, a slick, relentless glide. ] Let go. I'll take care of you.
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let go. his eyes squeeze shut and suddenly he's drifting in the water again. his fingers tighten around something warm — kaz's thigh, gripped so tightly he knows he'll leave bruises. he forces his hand to relax, forces his eyes blearily open to find kaz near, catching him in a kiss made of teeth. i'll take care of you. words he doesn't think he's ever heard before. no one has ever wanted to do that, and it's not something he's ever chased. his hand glides up the length of kaz's spine, nestling in his hair again, dropping a strangled moan into his mouth at kaz's expert touch. ]
Fuck, Brekker. You're — good. [ good hardly suffices. he huffs out a laugh, a shudder working through him. extraordinary hands, good for breaking locks, breaking bones, and apparently everything in-between. good for taking him apart. scorching heat pools inside of him, his hips pushing desperately into kaz's hand. he pulls him down into another kiss, his mouth trembling as his lips part, wanting kaz to devour every part of him until there's nothing else but this. nothing but his hands and his mouth and the taut pleasure spreading through his limbs, jagged lightning bolts streaking through him until he can't hold back anymore. his teeth sink into kaz's bottom lip for one frantic moment before he lets go, spilling hot over his hand with a ragged sigh pulled from his chest.
it feels like falling. or floating. he winds his arm around the curve of kaz's spine, drawing him in close as he presses breathless kisses to his throat, dragging his lips higher to the line of his jaw. his nose nuzzles against the sharp cut of his cheekbone, eyes fluttering shut as he catches his breath. it's tempting to fall asleep here, his fatigue suddenly catching up with him, limbs warm and loose and relaxed for the first time in days. his mind feels blessedly empty. ]
I find I no longer care about the heart. [ he mumbles it into kaz's cheek, shifting to settle him gently at his side, taking care of his injured shoulder. he buries his face into his hair, lips brushing his ear, his voice low. ] Unless I can trade it for one night without chains, without that vile tonic, just one night in bed with you.
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Never said I wasn’t. [ just implied that he hadn’t, with anyone else, but his clever hands have helped him manage by his lonesome in the intervening years, to be sure. nevermind that if nikolai hadn’t told him it was as simple as doing it the way he would for himself, kaz wouldn’t have thought of it like that or been able to touch him like this.
as the fog clears in his mind, the rumbling waves return. nikolai anchors him with kiss that kaz makes bruising, a bite that nicks his lip, a full-bodied release that breaks like the sky after a storm. kaz carries him through it, strokes slowing as nikolai softens. he even allows himself to be led closer, eyes shuttering as nikolai presses proof of unrestrained affection into his bones. or maybe it’s not affection. maybe it’s just what people do. he doesn’t know.
he wipes his hand on the ruined furs in the space between them before sliding it back across the still-trembling muscles of nikolai’s stomach, then grasping his waist to drag him close. kaz had been the one to untangle their limbs the first time, in nikolai’s quarters — and the other times, he’d been about to faint in the water, while nikolai had actually fainted on the shore — but he would prefer to stay now, if only for a little while longer (with no promise of this fragile closeness repeating). the mission whirs anew at the back of his mind. nikolai talks like there’s a chance, a flickering hope, and his breath catches. careful. in truth, kaz trusts nikolai with everything except self-preservation. did you ever want the heart? would you take it now, if i gave it to you? but even if nikolai doesn't mean what he says, the words heat kaz's cheeks all the same. he’d card a hand back through his hair, if nikolai hadn’t claimed the spot behind his temple as a resting place. ]
Just the one night? [ eyebrows arching, tone almost wry. he squeezes nikolai’s hip on his good side, blinking back the sensation of the flesh deteriorating under his hand. kaz scoffs. ] That’s a terrible deal. I’d never let you take it. [ irrelevant that he would definitely accept one night in bed with nikolai lantsov in exchange for most things, like the safety of being alone in his skin and away from the dead — or the firm grasp on his intelligence and restraint, which fell out of the crack in his head after nikolai started touching him again. ] I expect you to start negotiations with higher standards, [ another fragment stolen from nikolai, eyes sparking with amusement. ] or you’ll be countered into nothing.
[ easier to say that, just out of reach, than to offer him something accessible, like a day in his bed, though kaz would give him that, too. ]
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where does kaz sleep? the question nips at his mind, a sudden and inconsequential curiosity. he keeps him close, his arm slung low around his waist — a perfect fit — and noses from his hair to his ear to his cheek, a smile pulling at his lips. ]
To think you've been keeping this talent to yourself. [ his hand slides lazily along his wrinkled shirt, tracing his spine all the way to the nape of his neck, hungry to feel every part of him. in time, if they're lucky. he settles at the small of his back, tucking him closer. if kaz hasn't touched anyone else this way, then has he allowed anyone else to hold him this way? surely not. nikolai lets the implications of that wash over him, loosens his hold just slightly if it's too much. seeks out his mouth for a gentle kiss, another to top the pile. he can't seem to stop. it's been so long since he, too, has had anything like this.
just the one night. does he dare to hope for more? even the one can't happen, not really. not the way he wants it to. he wants kaz to touch him again, to show him the things he does to himself in the dark, but he wants more than that. he wants uninterrupted sleep with kaz settled in his arms. never has a nap sounded so glorious. ] Someone very wise must have given you some sage advice on standards. I'm glad to know you were listening.
[ he kisses him again, languidly pressing his tongue into his mouth. they should move. perhaps they could find the others in this tunneled cave, though he's more interested in taking kaz back to the ship to see a healer. he trusts that his crew will find their way, and he knows that kaz won't give up on this mission regardless, so nothing has changed — except for this ever-shifting thing between them, growing stronger by the day. he's begun to think of the end of this job, when kaz sails back to ketterdam and he returns to os alta. what then? is he meant to just forget this? isn't the whole point that kaz becomes more comfortable with touch so that he might live a life more fulfilled with whoever he pleases? maybe when this is over nikolai will pay a long overdue visit to the wraith, clear his mind on one of her slaver hunts. pick her brain on their mutual... is friend the right word? not with the way kaz reacts around her name. ]
One night is all it would take to decorate the ship with your very attractive entrails. [ better to slam the door on that particular fantasy, even if he's once again branching off into alternate presents and fatal futures. his fingers drag along his waist, across his ribcage, pushing up to his heart to feel its rapid beat against his hand. one more probing kiss, slow and deep, before he finally releases his hold, letting the cold in as he sits up with a wince and runs a hand through his hopelessly tousled hair. ] Since you're still hell-bent on chasing this heart for your own sordid reputation, we should make it back to the ship and make sure that your brain hasn't been tainted with sentiment. Zoya always did complain about that with me.
[ he grins over his shoulder, swiftly straightening his clothes, then swivels to place both hands tenderly at kaz's right leg, his grip gentle as he runs his fingers along his thigh, disappearing beneath the bend of his knee. ] Did you hurt this in the fall? I'd like to draw the line at carrying you, but I will if I must.
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one night is all it would take — he sighs, eyes closing so he doesn’t have to react to whatever face nikolai puts on for his benefit, as he slams that door. it makes sense, given his present, tenuous condition, but it still stings, to have it offered and withdrawn so quickly. as a result, the final kiss takes him by surprise, and he returns it a heartbeat late, arching up until they part. in a second, he smooths his surprised expression into something neutral, if overly content. hitching up on one arm, kaz’s bird-eyed gaze follows nikolai as he sits, noting the wince without acknowledging it. at least nikolai has moved past the interim goal of ridding himself of kaz before the journey’s end.
as kaz replies, he pushes himself fully upright using his good side and pulls up his trousers before starting on the buttons of his shirt. ]
Nazyalensky has fine taste in complaints, [ she dislikes him, and he likes her for it. ] but sentiment has never agreed with me.
[ he snorts, though his gaze lowers to observe nikolai touching his oldest injury. it’s a part of himself he doesn’t consider to be particularly vulnerable, beyond practical considerations, but it feels like jabbing fingers in an open wound, when nikolai applies tenderness there. the question he thought had been answered on the beach one way, then another at the inn, persists: what do you want from me? his blues sharpen on nikolai, regaining their customary focus, and he leans closer. what do you want from the job? ]
If I’d hurt it in the fall, [ one hand refolds nikolai’s collar at the back of his neck, before both cup his face. ] it never would have gotten anywhere near your shoulder. [ kaz kisses him again, sudden and sure. because he can, because nikolai might not let him tomorrow — because he’s a fucking thief, so it’s in his nature to steal what he wants. why does anyone kiss? when he pulls away, there’s something satisfied in the curve of his mouth. he moves swiftly on, buttoning his shirt and adjusting his jacket, retrieving his gloves and flexing his fingers in the unfamiliar white leather. it looks better with a little red.
for the record, he did hurt his leg, just a wee bit, in an inevitable sort of way (rattled by the drop, strained by the walk and everything else). it won’t bother him too much more than his usual and not in a noticeable way, but he’ll retire early tonight. he fixes his hair last, a best effort at slicking it back that ends with it falling at the sides, as if he hadn’t bothered. fine. ]
You can satisfy your heroic urges by helping me up. [ voice flat, he extends his hand, for nikolai to take. ] Then I’ll walk. [ a jerk of his head at their surroundings. ] We should case a portion of this network before we find [ or make. ] an exit.
[ there should be one, lower than where they thought, near the rendezvous point for the whole crew. god knows what tomorrow will bring, after that. ]