[ 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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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.
no subject
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. ]