[ he'd have to ask. ask him to come back. ask for what he wants. he hasn't in all this time, hasn't even before this, before kaz, hasn't ever. it's not in the plan. it's never been in the plan. he doesn't even have a plan. his plan is to do whatever is required of him, and that's never left room to think about the things he wants, the things that have nothing to do with duty or country. someone you want in the daylight. he almost laughs aloud, and he has to withdraw his hand, not because he wants to, but because he can see how much this touch is costing kaz, thrown right back to the start. and nikolai is the one who put him there.
his fingertips linger around a tousled lock of his hair. his skin is still warm from his rudely awakened slumber, though sweat breaks out at his temples from — what? the strain of being near him? the pull of the water? nikolai slowly draws back, but doesn't go far, slipping the ring properly on his finger as if to answer the question of if he wants it, whether he'll wear it. kaz can steal it off him if he wants it back. ]
You told me that before. To ask for what I want. [ he fidgets with the box again before setting it between them. ] I've asked you that a dozen times and you've always answered. But I'm afraid I don't know how.
[ more painful honesty, words he'd rather leave unsaid but knows he shouldn't. a way to cut through the mire between them. he owes kaz this much. ]
What I want... [ he shakes his head. ] That's never been important. Not to any of us. Do you think Zoya wanted to be Queen? She was born for it, to be sure, and I believe wholeheartedly she is exactly what Ravka needs, but I foisted my crown upon her because there was no path in which I could hold onto it any longer. She will do what is required, just as I've been groomed my entire life to do. So when you ask me what I want... I've never put it into words. Frankly, I always thought I'd have forged a political marriage and produced an heir by now, but thankfully I'm an undesirable old cow now that I've confirmed the bastard rumors. I say that with genuine gratitude.
[ a pause as he swallows, then plunges on. ] This is a miserable place to be, isn't it? I've spent my entire life trying to make it something more, and yet we always end up in the dark. And — it's not that I don't want you in the daylight. It's just that the person you see now and the person I need to be when morning comes can't want the same things. And I'm afraid if I tell you the things I really feel that you'll — [ he looks away, eyes settling on the glow of the bone light. ] You were right to leave that night, but that doesn't mean I want you to do it again. You stated your terms, and I intend to stay within them.
[ he settles his arms on his knees, holding his hands out in the meager space between them, shadows flickering along the walls. the ring glints sharply in the light. he should keep this space empty, keep their tether disconnected, but it feels wrong to leave kaz like this, shuttered away, closed off. he relaxes his fingers, his scars even darker in the murky light. ]
No one touches my hands anymore. Not since — [ he almost expects his fingers to sharpen into long black tips, but his hands remain the same, veined with darkness down to his wrists. he focuses on the bright sapphire, steadies himself. ] Will you try? You don't have to hold them, but just — [ he turns his palms up, fingers gently curled. ] Try. I miss the feeling.
[ kaz listens attentively, even as nikolai strides into matters of duty. every remark informs his understanding, though he already knew nikolai felt this way (obligated, restricted, divided) from their last night in fjerda. his speech shades in that conflict with greater nuance today. it’s not that i don’t want you has been said more times than the affirmative, i do want you, but it’s harder to admit what you want, isn’t it? the phrase represents a flicker of hope, not a blaze.
although he tells himself to forget it and the contradictions tangled within nikolai, his mind can’t help but race ahead to chase both threads. i’m afraid if i tell you the things i really feel begs for elaboration. the things he feels about himself or kaz? i miss the feeling, he says, and kaz knows it to be a truth — as well as an attempt to fix him once and for all.
setting the bone light on the covers, he narrows the gap between them so their shoulders nearly touch, the sheets pushed back to accommodate his move. in the interest of being contrary, his fingers encircle nikolai’s wrist one after the other, an illusion of control in the gesture. if these hands threaten him, he could snap them. ]
Is it that simple? [ separating his selves — or zoya’s, for that matter — between the ruler and the man. on some level, he suspects zoya did wish for a crown. the part of her that’s most like him and nikolai, wanting too much for things like power, respect, change. that’s one of the things he’ll never admit to liking about her. (the other is her wonderfully sour disposition.)
loosing a ragged exhale, he releases nikolai. you can best this, you already did. however unpredictable nikolai may be, kaz has often read him correctly. more than that, he never feared the demon, so why should he fear the man? steeling himself, he winds an arm around nikolai’s back and finds his hand on the other side. from there, it’s a shaky but purposeful slide to entwine their fingers and lean his chest flush against him, brandy and sea salt filling his lungs. he shivers, either from the exposure or the proximity, but he stays firm and hooks his chin over nikolai’s shoulder. ]
All those people are you. [ whether he likes them or not: the person kaz sees now, the person nikolai needs to be, and the demon, too. ] They might each serve a unique purpose or create a pinch point when aligned incorrectly — [ a term they’ll both know from mechanics, when the engineer’s limbs are most in danger of being caught between gears. ] — but if you can figure out how they come together... [ he extends his other hand, tapping the box with a single finger. every man is a puzzle of competing wants and fears. being rather clever, it’s possible nikolai has already explored the possibility of reconciling his many parts, but it frightens him — the idea of having what he wants at the end of a life spent fighting for it. something kaz would understand.
his gaze flits sideways, tracing nikolai’s profile down to the column of his throat. even after everything, kaz wants badly to kiss him there, under his jaw, all the way to his freckled shoulder.
shouldn’t. can't. ]
You realise you just asked for something you wanted. [ a wryness sneaks into his tone. ] Something that you hope will help fix the problem that you’ve been unable to leave alone since you learned about it — but that you want for other reasons, too. [ it’s a gamble, when he’s never vocalised that suspicion about nikolai’s preoccupation with his affliction before, but he’s right. he knows he is. ] It’s all in the alignment.
[ of competing interests and wants, the selfish and the unselfish, no need for whatever dichotomy nikolai has created between duty and abnegation. how very like a thief to insist on settling somewhere grey. ]
[ he doesn't know what to expect, but it isn't this. it isn't kaz leaning into him, fitting himself into the curve of his shoulder, holding him as if he's the one in need of comfort. nikolai keeps his body relaxed, one hand gently curled at his hip, the sheet crumpled lightly in his fingers as a buffer. he allows kaz to take the lead in this moment, to decide how close he wants to be and how long he wants to stay, and while he knows this is far from mending the wounds between them, at least now there's a bridge within sight.
all those people are you. his patchwork life, spooling out of his control, infected with a poison he failed to predict. you already failed. it's time to move beyond that. the demon is here to stay, for better or for worse, a truth he's admitted to himself many times but somewhere along the way has stopped looking in the eye. i am the monster and the monster is me. only this time it feels unforgivable to be such a thing. ]
And if I can't? [ find the right alignment. figure out how to make this all come together. he's suddenly back in the brambles of the thorn wood, sharp branches closing in. the forever soldier. the king who's made a hundred mistakes. driving the thorn through his heart was easier than contemplating this. he turns his head, eyes closed, nose pressed to the space behind kaz's ear. ] If I told you I was lying about all of this, that I only told everyone I wanted to live because it was what they wanted to hear and it was what you demanded in exchange for your help, would you still come back if I asked?
[ he shouldn't. but this has been his lifelong struggle, his insatiable desire for the things he has no right to, the thrill of claiming them anyway. realizing again and again it's not enough. what will it take to settle the storm within him, to calm the disquiet and find a way to peace? even now he's buzzing with distractions, of ways he can push kaz just a little further — until kaz clocks him in a way he hasn't before but nikolai realizes he's been thinking this entire time. weeks. months. his eyes slide open, lashes brushing kaz's skin. guilt plucks at him. he wants to help him, genuinely. unselfish. wants to solve the puzzle of kaz brekker. selfish. wants to be able to touch him, to kiss him, to be careful or reckless without thought. selfish. maybe not wholly selfish, if kaz wants it, too. he wants to be a place to house his wants and needs, a safe place to land. the same thing he's wanted to be from the start. something he's not sure he can be anymore. it's all in the alignment.
he lets go of the crumpled sheet, allows his bare fingers to brush the sharp cut of kaz's hip. his hand ghosts higher, tracing the ridges of his spine, gliding along the nape of his neck, nestling into his hair. perhaps kaz is testing his limits, but nikolai needs this as much as he does. he closes his eyes again, letting the quiet warmth wash over him, listening to the rabbiting of his own heart. ]
Do you want me to leave it alone now? [ he knows kaz's requirements to work through this. a partner. someone he trusts. and nikolai was that, until he snapped their tether. he doesn't know how to move backwards. regret fills him. ] You have good reason not to trust me anymore.
[ there. he can feel nikolai soften and draw closer in increments — the faint pressure at his waist surely his hand through the sheets, the breath at his neck warming the same spot nikolai marked as his twice over. ]
[ without hesitation, ] I’d tell you I already knew that, Nikolai. [ because i know you. not to mention, extracting that particular agreement while holding nikolai and zoya over a barrel invariably throws its strength into question. ] That if you died before I made it here, I’d charge Ravka double for wasting my time. [ he huffs a breath. ] And that you’d make for a hideous corpse. [ based on the flashes that invade his dreams and waking life. ] Try again. [ if he can’t, if he fails, if he thinks that’s enough of a threat to stop kaz brekker from dragging him back from hell with a black-gloved hand. ]
[ at the thought of nikolai never again in his arms, gone from this world, he tightens his hold. perhaps he fears that more than the rising waters, which already stole someone from him that he'll never get back. nikolai’s lashes kiss his skin, and he wants — he wants. nerves fizz in his stomach, either from the wanting or the consequences of having. when nikolai finally returns his touch, a soft sound escapes his mouth, the sensation like the jolt of ice on hot skin. no argument against his observations come, confirming their accuracy. nikolai wants him and wants to fix him, cutting through the fog of doubt. it’s his hand — gentle, blackened, untouched for so long — that fits into his hair as it did before. ]
I don’t. [ a beat. it takes audible effort to expel the words, stuck in his throat. ] I don’t want you to leave it alone. [ hypocrite, refusing to say what he wants unconditionally after asking for the same. ] Stay. [ he noses into the crook of nikolai's neck, swallowing hard. impossible to know what will happen if kaz kisses him. or what will happen if you don’t. ] Not as part of my terms or penance. Just — Stay.
[ nikolai’s rejection had been clear and repeated when they were last together. even if he was lying through his teeth, a part of him believes it would be better if this ended. now it’s up to him whether that part takes precedence over the ones that seem drawn to kaz again and again, or if it can be re-aligned with the rest of his person to serve the same goals.
it burns to think of that rejection and the ones that came before it in fjerda and novyi zem. his spine tenses as he anticipates another. you’re a stubborn fool, for chasing something he’ll never deserve, unable to show it enough light to ensure its survival. it might be that his own behaviour is what snapped their tether. frayed by every manipulative tactic and threat in his arsenal. he pushed too far, like he did in novyi zem — like he always does, greedy and uncompromising. maybe he'll never get the chance to try again.
he brushes his lips over nikolai’s pulse and waits for the storm. ]
[ of course he knew. kaz is the one person he can never seem to fool, and maybe a part of him prefers it that way. that starkly wounded look of his is too much to take, and he doesn't want to admit that he's been losing himself in his lies lately, worn down by the strain of holding his head up with a smile. perhaps that's why he ended up here tonight despite all good sense, and it's why he's moving in closer as he hangs onto every quiet word uttered between them as if kaz is now the one building him a path of stones to follow.
i'm tired is the answer he wants to give to try again — tired of trying, tired of the chance of not being enough — but stay snaps something to attention, a soft demand, a simple request that he believed he'd broken too much between them to hear. it sparks a dying flame to life, a ragged warmth in his chest. words press to his tongue, words that he swallows back down. the one truth was enough, already leaving him too exposed — but worse, leaving a burden in kaz's hands. there's no way to take back the reality of what he feels, and he already regrets that he knows kaz will think of it in restless agitation, will brood over how to solve it and know that he can't, all the while pretending it isn't on his mind at all. no, better to keep his truths close to his chest. what did he say? even barrel bosses have lovers on the geldstraat and children secreted away. to admit to something more would be giving kaz a lever of his own to be used against him. would he really want that?
but his thoughts are cut short at the soft feeling of kaz's face pressing into his neck, his breath warm where it cascades unevenly against his skin. another thing he didn't expect — kaz pushing himself so hard after everything, and with such success. he holds still, his mind a sudden uproar of all the ways he could ruin this fragile, tenuous connection. it won't survive another dismantling. that much he's sure of. he wants to pull away, wants to stop while they're ahead. they could still be — something. friends. associates. people who look at each other across rooms and wonder forever what might have become of them. but if he stops this now, he thinks kaz might not forgive that, either. and nikolai might not forgive himself.
his fingers glide gently through his dark hair, eyes open but unseeing in the dim room, his breath heavy with — what? nerves. fear. want. he shouldn't do this, shouldn't peg his hopes onto a person like this, but kaz makes him want to try and keep trying, to summon the haggard pieces of himself back into the man he knows is still somewhere inside of him. his eyes press shut at the flutter of lips at his jumping pulse, a softly tentative gesture, maybe all kaz can give. his stained fingers carefully rise, ghosting over kaz's jaw, lifting his chin as he coaxes his face toward his, meeting the bright blue of his eyes. for the longest moment he doesn't move at all, fingertips to his skin, flooded with doubt and arrested with longing. ]
Don't go yet. [ because he knows the end of this pitiful job is near, that kaz can only do so much, that he will have to walk this path of atonement alone. ] I don't know what to say to make them love me again. [ and if kaz ever wondered if he was daft, he just confirmed it without question. people like zoya, kaz, even alina hadn't cared about being adored, but he needs it, craves it, feels bereft without it. it feels like a personal failing, a measure he can't reach. even these long days of bitter silence between the two of them have been hard to contend with for more than just the obvious reasons. he can't bear the thought that kaz might dislike him as a person after the things he did.
he tips his forehead to his, his eyes sliding shut, his breath rushing out of him as his hand cradles the base of his skull, holding him close. it would take just one push for their mouths to brush. he swallows. ] Don't go. I haven't even shown you the lake. I haven't taken you in the water. I haven't done any of the things I said because I just — I haven't wanted to live. But — I want more time with you.
[ the parting blow never lands. nikolai guides his face forward and kaz follows. an instinct learned in that time of trust between them. in the soft cup of nikolai’s palm, he feels keenly aware of the hard, sharp angle of his jaw. his hand slides down nikolai’s shoulder blade, resting above his spine. you want him still. a desire that engulfs his sense of self-preservation and leaves him exposed, ready to be wounded. if no amount of time or hurt will rid him of it, that leaves distance as his only solution. in his mind’s eye, he can see the precise slashes that might end this: dropping his hands, pulling away, and rejecting that fantasy once and for all. that path is clearer than any taken with nikolai, which would carry him out to sea. he’s already unmoored, watching for nikolai’s tell instead of countering preemptively.
at close range, the light illuminates barely a sketch of nikolai’s features, with the details shaded in with memory. and therefore unreliable, the same as any prediction based on the man he thinks he knows. every second that passes is another opportunity for nikolai to turn again, a flip of the coin between his fingers. kaz squares his shoulders and drops his hands. someone has to go first.
don’t go yet stalls his movements — a natural partner to his request that nikolai stay — but it’s the uncertain confession after that pulls him closer. it surprises him more that nikolai admits to wanting love than that he wants it all. the self-flattery has always read as both invitation and savvy construction.
did kaz’s scowls and silence in the last few days bother him? that could be why nikolai sought his favour in the first place, the thrill of being liked by the one who hates all else and solving the puzzle of his person.
a tip of his head bumps their noses, blood rushing to his cheeks. he doubts nikolai expects him to help win love, having so rarely desired or received it. the most affection anyone feels for him now is loyalty, surely. nikolai will have to trudge that uneasy road alone. but he won’t. or can’t. doesn’t want to. already, kaz’s gears turn and turn, trying to solve this despite the din rising in his skull. (nikolai’s hand on his face, his mouth a breath away from a kiss, the heat contaminating his skin).
he knows nikolai no longer wants to try. he knows. he knows, but every time he hears it, thinks it, perceives it — it’s too much. ]
So take it. [ the gruff voice he knows to be his own, even as it says things he hasn’t planned. ] Take the time. [ time to hook his fingers into the nearest available anchor. and if that’s you? a tremor cuts down his back. if either of them have any sense, it won’t be. ] Start with what you want. [ time with him, his people’s love; the former of which seems more unreal than the latter. ] Go from there.
[ kaz leans to press their lips together, over so quick that his features open in surprise that it happened at all. his eyes dart over the bow of nikolai’s mouth before he shuts them, the dark expanse of the harbour stretching out before him. it’s not just want. it’s the other thing. the pounding in his chest that drowns out the waves.
he closes his fist in the collar of nikolai’s robe and surges forward into a kiss. ]
[ kaz is going to pull away. the sudden realization fills him with a sinking horror, the cold truth that he did break this beyond repair settling like a heavy stone in the pit of his stomach. he's not saying anything, just staring like he always does, the blue of his eyes turned to him in the darkness, close but unmoving, a hundred thoughts churning away that nikolai has no hope of deciphering. he wants to shake him, to rattle all the things he won't say right out of his head, but kaz is not a toy. and nikolai did this to himself.
end this misery. why did he say anything at all? why did he even come here? the same reason he does anything. foolish hope. he's a breath from pulling away when kaz finally speaks, stealing the string of inane excuses lined up in his throat with words nikolai doesn't expect to hear. he can never predict when kaz is going to drop a bit of scathing wit to pull a grin from him or if he's going to say something that will leave a part of him permanently scorched for better or for worse. it's part of the terrible thrill of knowing kaz brekker.
this is the latter. a bridge in the gaping abyss he's been facing for months, the ropes worn, the wood rotten. so take it. take the time. can he? a sane man wouldn't attempt to cross it. he'll fall to his death. so what if he does? start with what you want. this again. what does he want? is it enough to just want this? to find the sky in kaz's eyes, to feel the warm flush of his cheeks against his careful fingertips? he can't do this to him. can't make a drowning man his anchor. but right now nikolai is drowning too, has been drowning for months, and kaz is granting him permission to come up for air, however that looks like.
but what if it looks like dragging him into the dark with him? the thought doesn't have time to linger, not when kaz kisses it away so quickly that nikolai is unsure it even happened. what it a mistake? maybe. but the second time isn't, not with the purposeful way kaz drags him in by his collar, their mouths crashing with all the inevitability of the shore meeting the tide. desire cuts cleanly through his doubts, pushing kaz down into the rumpled sheets of the bed, the puzzle knocked to the floor, the bone light lost somewhere in the covers. one hand braces against the pillow, the other tilting kaz's jaw up as his mouth seeks the wild pulse at his throat, pressing his tongue to the unsteady lilt, alive. ]
I want you. [ his mouth sucks sharply at the delicate skin, then soothes it with a kiss, reddened and ready to bloom into a bruise. don't go is on the tip of his tongue again, but he's already asked. he'll have to hope it's enough. his fingers trace the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, then skate lower down his chest and past his hips, ghosting to his inner thigh where he seeks out his soft skin and the scar he knows is there, remembering the bandage he'd wrapped around his leg the last night they were together in fjerda. he presses a breathless kiss to his mouth, eyes fluttering open in a desperate, dangerous plea. ] If I can't have you, I don't want the rest. I don't want any of it anymore. Just this. You.
[ sealed with another kiss, as if it he doesn't want kaz to be able to say anything reasonable to his witless claims. he doesn't want reason or logic. he doesn't want kaz to point out his obvious delusions or even the unfair burdens he's placing squarely on his shoulders. he just wants this. he breaks the kiss to drag his mouth down the line of his throat, down his chest, down the flat planes of his stomach until he noses at his cock without warning, lifting kaz's pale legs to hook them over his shoulders as he eases his hips up. he kisses the head of his cock and laps his tongue out to gently slide the tip past his lips, his eyes hazy and dark as he finds kaz's gaze in the dim light. ]
[ the pressure changes in the air, signaling the oncoming storm seconds before kaz crashes their mouths together. none of the resistance that characterised their reunion persists here. every touch has a propulsive energy, sparking with life in the dark where it had felt deadened in the daylight. nikolai follows his momentum instead of rerouting, so kaz does the same. there’s the alignment.
when nikolai shoves him down, air rushes past his lips. a possible outcome — an optimal one, from a certain angle, just not expected. doesn’t matter. already, he pushes the robe down nikolai’s arms, thumbs dragging over his skin until he has to move to pull the tie free at his waist and toss it aside. kaz stops short of tearing the damn thing off entirely. it might be the purchase he needs when the exposure threatens to rattle his limbs. ]
You want me? [ scoffed on an uneven breath, like he doesn’t believe it. except his pulse wouldn’t spike if he didn’t. his breath hitches as nikolai marks him, threading a hand into his hair and thinking about how they both wrenched each other away the last time. ] How much? [ unfair to ask when nikolai has told him already in comparatives: perhaps more than he wants his suffering to end, maybe less than he desires security for ravka or absolution for his wrongs.
if i can’t have you, i don’t want the rest. without meaning to, kaz digs his nails into nikolai’s hip, free hand sliding over his back where his horrible wings spring free. this is predictable, he reminds himself. nikolai always makes grand proclamations in moments like this, needful and emotional. a retort sharpens against his teeth, but he loses the shape of it as nikolai kisses him soundly, fingers pressing over one of the scars from his service to ravka, of a kind with the gash that opened his gut the first time, the lines across his palm and shoulders. as much a proof of affection as the bruise nipped into his neck. he kisses back hard, both hands sliding to cup nikolai’s face. maybe if he plays this the same way as the first hand, too fast to overthink, he can give nikolai enough. ]
For how long? [ lilting into a tease while nikolai trails down his chest. ] Just the next hour? [ until sunrise, when he thinks better of invoking his twice broken fantasies. i want more time with you brims with promise and the disappointment that so often trails it. doesn’t know what he expected to happen, only that he didn’t think nikolai would slip back into their intimacy so quickly, after everything kaz did. his next words stick in his throat, inhale sudden and sharp as nikolai mouths at the tip of his cock. green eyes sun-bright even in the blackness, something of the fox in the quirk of his mouth. trust nikolai to take his advice when he least expects it. ]
Would that be enough for you? [ it’s an honest question and a dare. rhetorical and not. nikolai admitting what he wants aloud matters, but kaz wants more — expects more, after all he’s given. he reaches for it now, carding his fingers through nikolai’s hair and gently coaxing him down his length. ]
[ how much? if only kaz knew how impossible a question he poses, as if asking about the weather. as if it wouldn't stop him in his tracks, stop this, make him reassess everything. this has already become too real without putting a name to it. they've already cut and wounded themselves on each other, with each other, without each other, already carved out a space too deep that nikolai keeps piling with dirt and kaz keeps filling with water. it's mud, he wants to say with an unhinged laugh, kaz's face in his hands so he'll listen. that's what the metaphor amounts to. and still he wants to burrow inside of him. still he wants to insist that there is some safe place he can offer as a respite for kaz's own demons.
too many questions. suddenly kaz is full of things to say, full of things he wants to know that nikolai can't even begin to explain. don't go doesn't just mean tonight or tomorrow or next week. he doesn't want to see kaz leave this ugly, blindingly sunny suite that zoya placed him in as some kind of punishment. he doesn't want to see him board a ship to ketterdam. he doesn't want to wake up and realize they're not under the same gaudy roof anymore, that an ocean stands between them once again, that he has no idea when he might see him or touch him or kiss him next, if ever.
kaz thinks he's so clever, posing these questions like funny little traps when the truth is that it will never be enough. nikolai will always want more than the world can ever give him. he will always want to dig deeper, push harder, break kaz open just a little more each time — and he fears, eventually, that kaz will tire of this. of his lies and excuses, of his erratic behavior. of him. how long can they stretch this thread? ]
It wouldn’t be enough. [ fleetingly, he meets his gaze. he should say more. explain, somehow, what he means, lest kaz think that he isn’t enough. his thoughts jumble and snag, disarrayed. how can he keep him here? he can’t. isn’t that what kaz is always saying? you can’t keep people? something like that. something nikolai doesn’t want to think about, because everything feels like a countdown. it always does with them. it’s easier to follow as kaz guides his mouth down the length of his cock, suckling him gently as desire stirs within him. it’s been so long since this last happened that he wants to make it last, but it feels impossible to hold back, his mouth eager, greedily swallowing him down, his darkened fingers pressing hard into kaz’s hips. a low moan rumbles through his throat. ]
The sky. [ a rough whisper, punctuated by a wet sound as he pops kaz from his mouth and drags his hand along his length. he licks his rosy lips. ] Or the sea. You choose where I take you tomorrow. [ a flash of a boyish grin, a kiss to his inner thigh. ] Choose the submarine. We’ll go flying next time.
[ next time. a disguised but no less desperate don’t go. his thumb presses to the pearly wetness collecting at the tip of his cock, smearing it messily over the head before he slides him into his mouth again, his eyes shuttering as he takes him in deep, one hand blindly reaching out to search for the familiar clasp of kaz’s fingers. he’s suddenly afraid of what he might say. what if he says no? he can’t stay? he won’t go anywhere with him? tears spring to his eyes as kaz’s cock hits the back of his throat, heat pulsing through him as his own need heightens. better to render kaz speechless than to hear whatever he might say next, his cheeks flushing as he swallows hard and tries to silence the ticking clock in his head. ]
[ if there is a right answer, it’s the one nikolai gives. no, it wouldn’t be enough, not for either of them. their greediness surpasses what the world has to offer. ultimately, his other questions don’t warrant answers, not when nikolai would surely flatter his way out of any binding truths. kaz can make an educated guess based on the observable evidence, besides: nikolai wants him enough to come here in the night, to allow himself to be caught in his orbit repeatedly, to write him letters but never send them, to make him gifts and keep those to himself, too. that'll do, murky though it is.
better to move on than allow nikolai to ask how much? how long? in return. no job, however perilous, ever manages to lock nikolai out of his mind. time apart hasn’t dulled his want. his eyes crack and fix on nikolai’s red mouth. perfect for kissing. for false promises. for this, his moan vibrating over kaz’s cock. ]
Nikolai — [ an acknowledgement. a warning. he turns his head into his arm to muffle the sound nikolai wrings from him.
the sky or the sea. two places he’s never been fond of that nikolai loves and, therefore, have held his attention longer than they ever did before. (uncharacteristically clear harbour mornings, warm slivers of afternoon light, churning waves at the canals’ entrances.) all far from the overwhelming present, where his heels dig at nikolai’s muscled back.
when nikolai fumbles for his hand, kaz entwines their fingers. his clumsiness is a tell, but of what? nerves or need? next time? there’s a flash of the future nikolai wants most — or second most? always, somewhere at the back of his mind — neck bent under the weight of his corpse. he gasps, wide eyes searching for nikolai’s own but only finding his lashes, glistening against his freckled cheek. the sight plucks at whatever frayed string ties them together. okay.
however incomplete his understanding of nikolai is, it inevitably leads them back here. kaz focuses on that, the idea that it’s nikolai taking him apart, still wanting and not yet dead. as long as that’s true, he’ll keep them afloat. screwing his eyes shut, his thoughts collapse under nikolai’s keen attention. no waiting like the last time, no being told to ask for what he wants. perhaps he should offer some encouragement or urging of his own accord, but even that seems like too much with the heat rolling through him. he tightens his grip on nikolai’s hair to hold him still the way he did for kaz months ago, the first and only time he offered this to anyone in return.
a moan jolts from his throat, and he comes like that, legs trembling, heart rattling in the cavern of his chest. he’d almost forgotten what it feels like with nikolai — an indescribable rush, an impossible warmth. shuddering breaths hollow his chest. after a long moment, his gaze opens on the gilded ceiling, hand slackening in nikolai’s hair. ]
The sea will do. [ a low, airy thing. the ravkan submarines have piqued his interest since he heard whispers of them. always thought he’d nick the plans before ever being invited on board. it takes a few breaths to dampen the excitement flickering at the possibility. none of nikolai’s charmed tomorrows have come to pass. this one will be no different. ]
You’ll have to earn the next time. [ not quite teasing. he’ll want to see your eyes. the fair-weather sky. kaz finally looks up at him then, mouth quirking at one side despite his efforts. ]
[ it helps to keep their hands clasped, even as shame builds inside of him for ever saying he wouldn't. thinking of that night feels like stepping out of his own skin — something too familiar to him now, a sensation he wishes he could forget but knows he'll take to his grave. he focuses instead on the sensations in the present, on kaz's trembling muscles, on the sounds pulled from his chest. it's a thrill every time to have him this way, to know how little he's been touched and how much he should be. kaz spills into his mouth and he swallows it down, keeping him enveloped in his wet heat, soothing his tongue along his softening length while listening to the rise and fall of his breaths.
his eyes widen. the sea will do. is that a yes? he glances up, too eager, kaz's hand gentle in his hair. his heart skitters in his chest as he catches sight of his eyes, longing surging through him as he rises to press his mouth to his, sinking down beside him as his hand slides along kaz's hip, pulling him closer. stay. it’s in his kiss, in the way he holds him even if he doesn’t yet say it. he wants to reel his mind back, to keep himself in this moment instead of careening forward to the inevitability of when kaz is no longer here. you’ll have to earn the next time. there. something to focus on, something more to make right. a path to follow. ]
Then tell me you’ll stay. Give me more time to earn back your trust. Just — don’t leave me alone, not yet. [ his fingers sweep to kaz’s cheek, one arm locking around his waist. the words are out before he can think better of them, whispered into his mouth and chased with a kiss as if he can somehow take them back. he smiles to dull their precision, dangerously close to begging. to stop talking altogether might be the best course of action, but he supposes he would’ve figured out how to do that by now if he were capable of it.
his fingers pull through kaz’s hair, clearing his unruly locks from his eyes as he draws in a steadying breath and exhales around what he hopes sounds like an easy laugh. it feels wholly contrived, too tightly wound. his gaze slides away to the jagged fissures marking his hands, stark against kaz’s pale skin. in an instant he shuts it all out, leaning forward and pressing into another kiss, his eyes sliding closed. ]
Let’s go now. Tonight. [ he’s suddenly desperate to leave the palace, to take kaz while he has him, still afraid that this all might slip through his fingers quicker than he can blink. what will tomorrow bring? maybe he won’t be able to sway the people to forgive him, not when he hasn’t forgiven himself. maybe he’s not a convincing enough liar. he rolls kaz atop him, bracketing him securely between his knees. a sight he doesn’t see often, but kaz looks good above him, his hair slipping back down to frame the sharp angles of his face, his eyes piercing in the dim light. the sheets tangle beneath them. he sighs out a breath, his heart beating too fast, mind racing too quickly. nerves for tomorrow. nerves about this. restless exhaustion. he wishes he could sleep but knows he can’t, doesn’t really want to when it brings nothing but horror. it would steal this time away from him, away from kaz.
he traces the curve of kaz’s spine, fingers ghosting along each bony ridge, and flashes a quick smile. ] If you sell out my secret passageways to my secret laboratory, Sturmhond will have no choice but to come to Ketterdam and very loudly play the part of your jilted lover. He’s very good at prolonged theatrics, you know, and he can very easily become a nightly disturbance at the Crow Club. I hear he's very difficult to kill, too.
[ frenetic energy propels nikolai tonight, one he hasn’t brought to their previous encounters. a new, wretched need to repent driving him to please now with each word and action. tell me you’ll stay, give me more time. finally, he asks for what he wants, for what kaz hoped was wanted upon his arrival.
in return, kaz meets every kiss, though his reaction time is slowed. hadn’t anticipated the scale of nikolai’s need or the rush to act, necessitating recalibration. there’s something more in his kisses, too — his hold tugging kaz flush, his smile cracked at the edges. at least at this exact point, kaz must be what he wants. at least until sunrise, he could be what nikolai needs, pressed between his legs like he belongs there.
let’s go now. tonight. a chill chases nikolai’s fingers down his spine, so kaz eases up on his hands, weight shifting off nikolai. talk of sturmhond in ketterdam earns a mild scowl, though his fantasies latch onto the natural corollary to that threat (nikolai in ketterdam, a scenario he’d guarded against desiring until the end, when nikolai slipped past his defences). not again. his eyes narrow, then settle. his wrinkled brow suddenly smoothed. one hand pushes open nikolai’s robe to expose his chest. ]
I’m here. [ a peck to his mouth and then another. one of the only reassurances he knows that nikolai understands, affection prized above all else. careful. not i’m staying. he isn’t. not for long. can’t, having already shirked his duties by lingering here. he swipes his tongue along the seem of nikolai’s lips, licking into his mouth as if a proper kiss can prove his devotion. ]
Do you really wish to go now? [ breathless as he noses into nikolai’s cheek to drop kisses along his jaw and down his throat. his hands search for nikolai’s again, gently winding them back against the sheets. kaz mouths all the way to his collarbone, sucking a mark where the annoying v of shirt usually folds open. ] Just us? [ curious. a passage out of the palace to the rumoured laboratory, its inventions worth more kruge than every dusty heirloom in the palace and not one secret among them that he'd sell. he drags the flat of his tongue lower, pausing only to nip at nikolai‘s stomach. his murmur grinds rough in his throat. ] Alone in the night — without your keepers? [ a hum to feign thoughtfulness as he draws back up nikolai’s torso. for a moment, he hesitates, hovering above nikolai before lowering to rest his weight against him fully, untangling their hands to fold his arms atop nikolai’s chest, the gifted ring dangling off a hooked finger. stolen because he can, not because he intends to take it back. ]
[ arching a brow, ] You could slip through my fingers. [ to escape the agreement kaz forced him into, or perhaps to return to the vigilantes’ torturous grasp. this entire reconciliation could be contrived, a lovely snare. ] And then I’d have to put them to use elsewhere just to draw you back. [ stealing secrets, prototypes, whatever he can carry so that sturmhond or nikolai might come bother him. a threat for a threat.
the sapphire inlay catches his eye, and kaz finds himself abruptly overwhelmed by the idea of nikolai likening the black tide of his gaze to precious gems — the blue of the sky. he closes his fist around the ring and rests his head on his arms so he won’t have to look at it or nikolai any longer, ignoring the equally sentimental musing that he hasn’t laid on anyone since jordie. this close, the steady beat of nikolai's heart, healthier than it was in fjerda, evens his own jumping pulse. ]
[ i'm here. a promise, a reassurance, something to hold onto. it's all kaz can give when he knows he can't stay. and it's no small thing either, to have kaz in his arms like this when mere months ago he could barely stand the touch of nikolai's fingers stitching up his wounds. this might have never happened if not for their pressurized time together aboard the volkvolny, despite his spiraling regrets for so much of what transpired there. his regrets trail him here, a shudder as kaz kisses down the line of his jaw, his fingers winding gently through his. he holds on, tightening his grip, eyes falling shut as his face tilts away. like he can somehow hide his shame. as if kaz hasn't seen every bit of it. not everything. there are still some things he stubbornly holds onto, that he maintains he can't remember. still things he won't do, like fall asleep here no matter how much he wants to. kaz has stripped himself bare, and he still won't. still can't. some things are simply inconceivable.
his answer gets caught somewhere in his throat — yes, yes, i've never wanted to be away from a place so badly in my life — kaz's tongue warm and wet against the planes of his stomach, butterfly wings taking flight beneath his skin — and then a sour scoff huffs from his lips. his keepers. he's had guards his whole life, but it feels decidedly different now. far more aggravating. a sparkle catches the light, his ring poised on kaz's slender — sneaky — finger. he resists the utterly foolish urge to look at his bare hand, wondering just when he'd slipped it off, how he hadn’t felt a thing. ]
Does this feel like a trap to you? [ he watches kaz carefully as he suddenly seems to flicker elsewhere, nestling atop his chest. it stills his movements, calms a bit of the disquiet rattling in his head. what is he thinking of? it’s the question that comes to him often when he catches a glimpse of kaz from across a room or — now, when he’s close and yet somewhere else, his mind just as busy as nikolai’s and yet his mannerisms betraying none of the malaise in his head, still as a sleeping serpent curled in its nest. a skill nikolai has never been able to master. even now his fingertips drum along the neat lines of kaz’s hip, sweeping higher to trace the tattoo at his bicep. ] Either way, you seem quite content to be in it.
[ it’s not. he came here with an embarrassing lack of logic or reason, nothing beyond the pull of loneliness and regret and longing stringing him along to kaz’s door. his hand nestles at the nape of kaz’s neck, blunt fingernails scratching along his cropped hair. every touch feels new, and he has to wonder if it is. has anyone touched him here? maybe this can be the reason he came here tonight, to offer something long overdue, something kaz deserves. because nikolai certainly does not deserve this, not with his sins piled so high that he can hardly see a way past them.
his fingertips glide across his cheek, touching the corner of his lips. he wants to leave the palace, wants to be in the silence of the deep underwater right now, but his submarines are just imagined monsters to most, and he can only assume kaz might be intrigued but less than eager to submerge himself to such watery depths. he almost lets it slip that the wraith has gotten a tour already, but he’s distracted by his mouth, two fingers pressing inside, his cock giving a twinge as they’re enveloped in soft, wet heat. ]
What have you done in this bed? [ he presses the pad of his fingers to kaz’s tongue, thinking of long nights alone during their bitter silence. was kaz too angry to even think of him, too hurt? had the long months spent apart before this dulled his memory of these stolen moments? so much has happened. so much that nikolai still struggles to find the words for. he pulls his fingers from kaz’s mouth and replaces them with a kiss, pushing his tongue past his lips and drawing his wet hand down between kaz’s legs, nudging them open. this, he can do, one wet finger gently coaxing kaz open. his mouth slides to his cheek. ] Tell me. Have you thought of me? Or have you only thought of murdering me?
[ eyelids heavier with fatigue than he’d like, kaz flattens his mouth into a neutral line and rests his pointed jaw on his arm. unseen relief courses through him when nikolai gives up on spiriting them away in the night. however much kaz wants him to ask for things and give them in return, that request chafes against the limit of their mutual trust (presently extending only to the doorway and windowpanes). if nikolai really wants to take him, he’ll ask in the morning — and he won’t ask, which means they can act out this conversation again when nikolai next wanders into his room after dark. the remaining threads between them feel brittle, not elastic.
his hand tightens around the ring, pressing the metal into his palm. ]
[ under his breath, ] It’s not a trap if I can see it. [ if he can see through the fog, it’s an opportunity, a puzzle, a move that can be countered. that is to say, yes, it feels like a trap. it felt like stepping onto the hinge of steel jaws in order to reach nikolai in his room, too, like thinking his reflexes were nimble enough to shield his vitals. a miscalculation. if it isn’t a trap, it’s — well, it would have to be — something real rather than mere convenience and desperation. nikolai is drowning and needs someone to drag him from the depths; that’s all. ] Hm.
[ although he wants to deny the observation, his mind fails to conjure an adequate excuse for why he stalls here, muscles relaxing under nikolai’s ever-shifting fingers, a close-mouthed sigh audible as he scratches the base of his skull. another vulnerable, untouched place, like everywhere nikolai seems enamored with: a familiar bruise already flourishes behind his ear, and his tattoo burns as if inked anew by nikolai’s black-tipped hands. nikolai is still hard against his thigh, a favour unreturned, but he hasn't asked for it. never does.
kaz shutters his eyes, evading scrutiny, until nikolai’s fingers graze his mouth. he knows what that might foretell — the pieces of him that nikolai most likes to touch. after months apart, the fear cuts deeper now than it had at the end, but kaz parts his mouth all the same, lapping at his fingers and nipping at the pad of his thumb when he draws away.
he slips the ring onto his finger so he doesn’t lose it, curling his otherwise bare hand over nikolai’s shoulder to leverage into a deeper kiss, too eager for more. can’t swallow the quiet moan nikolai pulls from him. his silence and scowls mean nothing when he gives in this easily, opening his legs to welcome nikolai’s touch, cock soft, wet and cooling between them. more and less resistance to the intrusion than the last time. not as slick, but not as unprepared, either.
what have you done in this bed? not nothing. ]
Not at first. [ shouldn’t have said that, dangerously close to admitting he couldn’t. he pushes through the nausea and regret, entangling his gut. ] I thought — [ that nikolai would be angrier, that kaz might have lost him forever. i’m done holding your hand reverberated in this cavernous room, every fantasy ruined by the memory of reality. he bends his good knee into the bedspread to improve nikolai’s angle, breath stuttering. maybe nikolai moves so briskly to keep his thoughts from splintering. and maybe that's a decent strategy, after all. ] Never imagined you this penitent, for starters. [ unable to dull his words, even while panting hot into nikolai’s hair. this is penance, isn’t it? ] But I thought of you. You know I did. [ like nikolai knowing could rob his confession of its potency, the same as seeing a trap laid out ahead. anything to make it sound ordinary instead of singular. ] Is this how you thought of me?
[ or did nikolai want him to apologise and beg forgiveness instead? to strangle him so that his poison tongue might never wound him again? ]
[ there's something off about this, some sort of melancholy gloom accompanying them in this room. perhaps something he brought with him, something he's tried hard to shake but can't. or something that was already here. kaz's mind seems to be whirring with things unsaid, but nikolai doesn't demand to know his thoughts this time. hasn't earned that yet. maybe he's lost that gift forever, crushed beneath his seemingly casual, wholly unpredictable cruelty. he wants to say there was nothing casual about it, that every word had been forced, a calculated cut meant to sever this bond with the intention of sparing him from — what? this. him. but trying to explain again and again makes it sound worse each time. the fact remains that the hurt was intentional. it's the sort of deliberation that doesn't deserve forgiveness.
not at first reveals more than kaz perhaps intended. his face floods with heat, both desire and shame, eyes fixed on kaz above him. what does it mean? had he thrown him back to the start? he did, because he could barely touch him when he first came into this room. his breath pulls tight with regret, though it's easy to mask the sudden hitch as something else. he cranes his neck, tipping their mouths together, moving without thought. kaz's warm breath cascades over his lips. it's penance, but it's more than that. it's more than he's willing to say, more than he can say, because now he has to think about every single word and how much damage it might cause. the words he harbors in his chest can cut too deeply when the wounds he inflicted before haven't yet healed over. he can feel it in the way kaz touches him, kisses him — he's eager, willing, but he's holding back, too. mistrust or self-preservation or both. nikolai can't fault him for either. ]
No. [ no, that's not right. he can't have kaz thinking there was ever a moment he didn't want him. ] Yes, of course, but not only like this. [ often, yes. nightly, even. hard not to, with kaz renewing his memories of the hard, lean lines of his body, the quiet noises pulled from his throat. nikolai keeps his strokes gentle, easing inside of him, letting up when he feels resistance and pressing on when kaz bears down against his hand. he's fascinated by the flush that creeps along his chest, his free hand brushing the warm heat of his cheek before reaching between them to fist kaz's cock. ] I just —
[ just what? he swallows, his throat edged with finely ground glass. everything that's come out of his mouth for weeks has been a lie, and now the press of the truth against his tongue petrifies him. but i thought of you. he repeats those words in his head, a confession kaz had the courage to make. you know i did feels tacked on to lessen the blow. but — no, he didn't. he wasn't sure if kaz had somehow incinerated his memory and decided to despise him to his end of days. long nights spent avoiding sleep have given him too many hours to fabricate scenarios of all kinds, most of which never turn out in his favor. he's even imagined this, of showing up at kaz's door with repentance on his lips and being turned away with blue eyes gone cold — or worse yet, showing up at kaz's door and finding the room empty.
but one day soon it will be empty. he draws in a breath, swallows again. some things he has no choice but to lie about. but he doesn't have to lie about this. ]
I thought of you in my bed many times. But we were just sleeping. [ he huffs out a quiet breath, mouth quirking. he licks his lips. ] I mostly thought of you away from the palace. I wanted to show you Os Alta. Didn't intend to ruin that so grandly. But then I would think about the things that I said to you, and it seemed better to let this stay broken. To let you go. But now... [ he flashes a brief smile, his voice strained. ] I can't stop thinking of you going back to Ketterdam. And how empty it will feel here without you.
[ he slips a second finger in, letting go of his cock to draw his hips down closer, hand splayed at the small of his back. his mouth brushes his throat. ] Are you all right?
[ no, an icy blade that nearly nicks an artery. yes, of course. of a pair with you know i did. it occurs to him that their bond might not be so easily broken, with the way they both phrase things as inevitable, almost unalterable. even after depleting their stores of trust, nikolai is singular in some way, stubborn and persevering, penitent and wanting. but if not just like this, then how? a sound bursts from his throat and derails that line of questioning. kaz rocks into nikolai’s fist, clenching the finger inside him.
as nikolai pumps his cock, kaz half-buries another moan, louder and longer, into his neck. too sensitive and still coaxing back to hardness for nikolai. would do this as many times as he wanted, if it would keep them both here, grounded in mind and body. he scrapes his teeth down nikolai’s perfect jaw, darting up and soothing his mouth with a kiss when he stutters. those tender instincts that nikolai inspired of him aren’t gone, then, just rusted.
kaz nudges his nose and let’s their foreheads press together, shark’s eyes watching him at close range. can’t tame the fluttering in his chest any longer: nikolai thought of him as a comfort, something to have beside him during the nights he hates. and claims to have imagined him elsewhere, places too open and bright for this shadowy connection of theirs.
are you all right? a question so gentle that it strips him raw, nikolai’s hand burning sweetly at the small of his back. inside him, around him, an unmatched feeling of being held that he tried to forget so he could stand apart again. ]
I — yes. Wait. [ he leans to the side, pushing nikolai down in the process with a hand splayed against his sternum, and fumbles in his table for something. ] Give me your hand. [ the snick of a lid echoes tinny in the room before a metal pot is pressed into nikolai’s palm. perhaps he did more in this bed than even nikolai considered. cheeks warm, kaz slides his oil-slick hand down nikolai’s length and doubles back to swipe the moisture gathering at the tip. impossible to see between their bodies in the dark, but he knows it to be flushed and red just from taking care of him.
it’s the only comfort he can offer when he can’t — won’t allow himself to be caught in his devotion. doesn’t say i’ll always go back to ketterdam, so you’ll always know where to find me pushing the door wide open, hinting at the constancy he wants from someone he can barely hold onto in the moment. ]
You didn’t let go. [ a beat. ] You have me still. [ in ways that no else does. ] Tell me that’s what you want. [ again. greedy. ] Ask me to stay a little longer. [ because nikolai wants him, needs him. it doesn’t have to be more sentimental than that — it isn’t, he reminds himself. it doesn’t even have to true. it just needs drown out the nikolai who said the opposite, added to the chorus of voices in his head. contrary to how he tried to spin his ceaseless thoughts earlier (as expected, ordinary), even nikolai’s cruellest words refused to leave him. ]
[ it happens too fast, from kaz's slick hand on his cock to the words whispered between them in the dark, eyes fluttering shut as if he can somehow protect himself from what feels like an unraveling. you have me still, in time with his hips stuttering into kaz's firm touch, a muffled groan falling past his lips. he grips the metal in hand, surprise coloring his features. tell me that's what you want. saints, is this how he sounded when he'd insisted on making kaz ask for everything? the depth of his desire can't be put into words, and neither can he explain that he can't without giving himself away. to tell kaz what he really wants would be giving voice to a ridiculous fantasy they both know can never come to pass. a little longer isn't enough and it will never be.
his oiled fingers spread kaz open, the resistance nearly gone. can't wait any longer, not with kaz working him over like this. he rises quickly, pushing kaz onto his back and pinning him to the bed, his mouth immediately brushing over his jaw, nuzzling beneath his ear, planting warm kisses down his throat. like he'll never be close enough. why does it always feel like this, like this moment will slip through his fingers with one wrong touch, the tick of the clock so loud in his head? it was a countdown in fjerda and it's the same now, even with kaz promising him more time. his sandy lashes brush over kaz's heated cheeks as his eyes open. he has to stay in this moment. it's the only way he can do this.
he draws kaz's legs around his waist, crushing their mouths together in a long kiss. you didn't let go. he didn't. he couldn't. he's tethered to kaz brekker whether he wants to be or not, and even when he thinks it might be better if he wasn't, he knows that's not true. he knows he wouldn't be here right now if not for this wretched tether. ]
Stay. [ a familiar refrain now, as he lifts kaz's hips to press into him, painstakingly careful, his brows drawn tight as he breathlessly watches kaz's face. briefly, his eyes squeeze shut, tight heat enveloping him. his fingers dig into the sheets as he drops his forehead to kaz's temple. ] Stay with me. Don't go. Just — a little longer. [ his hips shudder with one last push, flush against him. he forces himself to be still, brushing a kiss to kaz's ear, feeling the tension radiating from his body. he brings a hand down to gently ease along kaz's thigh, coaxing him to relax. ] It's okay. Hold onto me. You still have me, too.
[ a promise. an atonement. maybe it won't be enough. one night is hardly enough to make amends, to rebuild this broken trust. his fingers brush over kaz's cheek, a tremor in his blackened fingertips. his hips rock ever so slightly, a spark of pleasure igniting between them. ]
[ kaz knows that he’s the one sinking again, asking nikolai to keep him above the waterline when he can’t. no one can. you have to let go, of nikolai’s tenor groans and intimate fantasies.
the stretch edges into something aching. a gasp opens his throat, breath stuttering after it. he notices nikolai shift in time to lean into his momentum, and it lands him on his back. vulnerable, teeth perfectly placed to draw blood. the pounding in his skull — like a gunshot grazed his ear — only quiets as nikolai smears kisses down his neck instead of tearing into the skin.
a flash of green meets his gaze, like the fields of lij outstretched before him. past encroaching on his present, the way the future reaches backwards to seize nikolai. he remembers, then, that it isn’t easy for nikolai either. tangling a hand in his hair, kaz meets his kiss with sudden surety, pressing one into another, pecks yawning into deep drags. better to drown in this (heart swelling, lungs full) than the harbour. anticipation coils in his stomach — or perhaps that’s nausea and nerves swirling together.
when nikolai guides his legs higher, kaz hooks them at his waist, the right looser than left. stay. tensions ekes out of him as he lets his head fall back. for a little longer. nikolai pushes inside, a tighter but more satisfying stretch, and he whines through his teeth, only returning his stare until it burns. too much like being pinned under the microscope and plucked apart.
no one else has stolen a glimpse of him this unguarded, and yet he lets nikolai look his fill. after a few weeks and a good fuck. blunt nails dig into nikolai’d shoulder, features scrunching then smoothing with effort. you still have me as tender as nikolai’s tremulous efforts to soothe him with taction. yes, somehow after everything he said, nikolai came back. ]
Yes — [ back arching to return the favour and feel the incremental shift inside him. overwhelming, always overwhelming, with nikolai. ] Against all odds. [ a huffed breath that’s half-laugh. the odds of nikolai having him or him having nikolai are minuscule, even without accounting for the impossibility of their wants dovetailing in the present moment. ] I’ll stay. [ a little longer, as long as nikolai needs him, no, only as long as he can afford to — which isn’t enough. fuck, it’s not going to be enough. quickly — ] If you keep talking. [ can’t help but needle and bargain. ] Tell me how it feels.
[ he turns his head into nikolai’s touch, brushing a kiss over his fingertips and parting his mouth to invite them to press inside. ]
[ it's different this time than the last. of course it is. kaz had been relieved to see him whole and human in the fjerdan palace, and nikolai had been desperate for kaz's return after senselessly risking his life to retrieve the damnable heart. this time he hardly knows what kaz is feeling. doesn't even know if kaz really wanted him here in the first place. he's always heard that kaz brekker is a vengeful, unforgiving creature, a man that will tip your fortune toward death without batting an eye. it's not that he fears kaz will kill him — a truly spiteful man would never give in so easily — but that he might never be able to reach the bottom of the well of his hurt. kaz is certainly not going to offer him a gauge.
what is he thinking? he wants to ask every every time he looks at him, which is nearly every moment. the water? does he feel sick? is there disgust or longing roiling within him, or perhaps both? does he remember all the things nikolai said before, the things he said back on his ship, the good things, or is there just an echo of the lies he told him in his bedchambers? kaz's hard grip at his shoulder brings him back, nikolai's breath catching when he feels the arch of his back. he thinks he stops breathing altogether when kaz utters those two words. i'll stay. a promise. an obvious lie. no, not a lie. he'll stay. just not in the absurd way nikolai wants. he forces out a breathless smile. maybe he should hurry him out the door, put himself out of this misery. he'll be fine here alone, because he always is. he always has to be.
if you keep talking. for once, maybe for the first time ever, he doesn't want to. his lungs feel too tight, words too hard to reach right now. how much time can he really buy? he doesn't feel clever or charming in this moment, but kaz manages to pull him away from those thoughts too, lips parting, the wet press of his tongue just barely touching his fingertips. his cock pulses inside of him, heat flushing to his cheeks. there are other reasons he can't speak, now. he swallows, licking his lips. ]
Is this what Mister Brekker the barrel boss is like? [ a murmur, a hint of a smile, this one more real than the last. two fingers take the invitation to dip into his mouth, kaz's lips tightening around them. ] Giving nothing without asking for something in return? [ his mind whirs ahead of him, doomsday thoughts — would kaz have given this freely before, is it because of the things he said, is it because this is transactional now and not whatever the thing it was before? no, it's not any of that. this is still good, still them. it's just words. it's mere curiosity. he's thinking too much about it. nikolai has asked him dozens of things in the heat of the moment, made him give him voice to things he'd never say in the daylight. this is like that. kaz learned this from him.
he feels the cavern of his mouth grow wetter as he keeps his fingers lodged inside, making it hard for him to swallow. still hasn't answered the question. he moves his hips, slowly pulling back, a hard breath escaping him when he sinks inside of him again. his eyelids flutter but he doesn't let them close, transfixed with the view of kaz's face, the glisten of spit wetting the corners of his mouth. ]
You feel — [ you, an important distinction to make, something he wants kaz to know. ] Like every want I've had since you left. Every time I dreamt of you, every time I came with your name on my lips, every time I saw your face in the dark. [ he curls his fingers, leaning in to nudge kaz's jaw up with his nose, planting a kiss at the darkening bruise at his pulse. his breath pools hot along his skin as he rocks his hips forward, pushing in deep, drawing his fingers from his mouth so he can grip kaz's right thigh when he feels his leg slackening. will it be like that again? dreaming of him, missing him in the night? he gasps in a breath and exhales around a hard groan, face pressed to kaz's shoulder, the memory of his claws sinking into his flesh springing to mind. his lips trace the scars he left there, another apology heaped upon the dozens he owes him. not enough.
he finds kaz's hand in the dark, twining their fingers together, pressed tight into the spill of the sheets. his hips move in earnest now, his breath unsteady. ]
It's what I want. [ halting, breathless, but finally obedient to his earlier request. kaz asks for so little. what is he thinking? what does he really want? ] You — you're what I want.
[ kaz brekker, the barrel boss, dirtyhands, isn’t at all like this. even the teasing remark proves to be a reminder that nikolai hardly knows how cruel he can be outwith his stumbles in novyi zem and nikolai’s very own room. never even knew him before inej and jesper — didn’t soften him, exactly, but they — it had been different, after they joined the dregs (much to his frustration). if nikolai knew, he’d never seek forgiveness from a creature like him. giving nothing without asking for something in return is a truer maxim. at least until inej, jesper, nikolai and all the rest tipped the scales. a dangerous precedent to set, especially for someone as accustomed to getting their way as nikolai lantsov. but it’s the sort of behaviour that earns genuine smiles like the one that lights his face now, far more handsome than the dazzling feints or genuine anguish of late.
the proposed trade is just what nikolai thinks it is, too: a habit learned and returned, part of their ever-mounting volley.
you tugs him out of his reverie, eyes opening as if by a flash of light. the emphasis stands at odds with all he’s been told since entering ravka, though perhaps not with the unsent letters or the weeks together that came before. could spend hours untangling nikolai’s truth from lies and still be mired in brambles. words are no more real for being sweet. truthfully, kaz almost finds this harder to bear than the rejections and slights. no, it is harder. scenarios plucked from his own memory of their time apart dangling in the corner of his eye. shining faces mistaken for a wayward privateer in the daylight. dreams of nikolai haunting him when he managed to stop thinking of him incessantly. traitorous, sleepless nights in his bed atop the slat when he couldn’t contain every want beneath that ever-clattering hatch. and if it’s true for kaz, there’s a chance it’s the same for nikolai. slim, winking hope.
he groans around nikolai’s fingers. of course lantsov likes this in conjunction with everything else, close all over, in every way possible. best to ignore the thought that he likes it for the same reasons, lidded eyes absorbed by the minor shifts in nikolai’s face and the naked desire there. too distracted to fight the heat flooding his face and spilling lower or the pleasure rumbling in his chest. trust of a kind led him here, to a position where nikolai could easily hurt him, kill him and instead retraces evidence of affection, imprinted on his neck. his exhale rushes ragged as nikolai tends to it — then the marks darkening his pale shoulder. a moment’s penance before they slot together at a searing angle. doesn’t even realise that he’s whining again, lips brushing over nikolai’s temple, then the shell of his ear. all breathless instinct.
there it is again: you. the lie he wants most to be true. that feels true, sometimes, before he dissects it. ]
[ as nikolai thrusts deeper, he moans openly, clasping his hand tight in turn. that’s the same as before, despite what he was told. ] Nikolai. [ fingers twisting in the short hair at nikolai’s neck, kaz kisses him before either of them can say anymore, mouth curved helplessly. high enough that nikolai might just feel his smile in the eager push of his mouth. unlike the last time, kaz has given voice to few assurances in return despite their near-constant buzzing inside him. ]
Show me. [ the scratch of his voice edged with need, ] Make me come. [ he slips his hand lower, down the notches of nikolai’s spine until he reaches the curve of his ass and squeezes. ] Faster.
[ he whines breathlessly, eager to please, eager to perform. can feel the curve of kaz’s smile against his lips, sending hope fluttering in his heart that maybe this little bit is still untainted, that maybe he can still give kaz this fleeting moment of unadulterated bliss where he doesn’t have to feel the hurts inflicted upon him. the familiar rasp of his voice is threaded taut with need, a lovely sound that nikolai has played over and over in his head. faster. he gladly complies, happy to let kaz have what he wants, for him to discover and demand what he likes. it was always supposed to be this simple, to be nothing more than an exploration, an unearthing of need, prolonged exposure so that kaz could find his footing. and now he’s grinding his teeth shut just so his heart won’t leap out of his mouth.
what is he thinking? his eyes flutter open, a brief glance at kaz’s flushed face as if it might tell him something. nothing. he at least looks lost in the haze of pleasure, perhaps in a place the water can’t get to him. nikolai kisses him again, his hand snaking between them to obey kaz’s request, fingers firm around his cock. for a long moment he does nothing but drag his thumb along the tip, squeezing tight, drinking in the strangled moans pulled from kaz’s throat as he keeps the rhythm of his hips steady. if only he could have him like this every night, if their time wasn’t constantly running out. so many things he needs to say, so many things he can’t.
a cry rushes past his lips, head lowering to press to kaz’s cheek, hips buried deep within him as if he can somehow hide in him. his tongue burns with the unsaid, nearly pushed out of him with need, but he nips sharply at kaz’s earlobe instead, his hand working him over to push him over the edge, to distract. he can’t. what will kaz do with the weight of his feelings? hide them in his bruised heart, carry them across the sea back to ketterdam? there’s room. kaz’s heart is bigger than he knows, but to be prepared to hold such a thing is another matter entirely. and nikolai knows he’s not. he hasn’t taken the time to properly excavate a place yet, to set down a bedding so that there will be some place for this to go that doesn’t hurt. his heart is half shadowed, turned away from the light, a coping mechanism to protect himself from a lifetime of hurt. nikolai can’t just cut in with a sunlit blade because he wants to.
he feels the familiar tightening of kaz’s lithe body, the hitching of his breath. nikolai drags a messy kiss along his jaw, stealing a fleeting look, his tongue tracing his slick skin, a satisfied breath huffed along his throat when kaz spills wet between them. it turns quickly into a groan, kaz’s body clenching around him, drawing him into a haze of aching need that tips him over the edge. he sinks his face into kaz’s cheek, winding a hand into his hair and blindly pulling, tilting his jaw skyward as he buries a moan into his skin, a shudder seizing him as he tries to pull kaz closer still. a wispy pattern of black fragments from his eyes, down his cheekbone, trailing like a spiderweb down his skin, there and gone in a blink.
a rasp — ] Tell me what you’re thinking. Don’t shut me out. Don’t —
[ but he pushes up and the words die on his tongue, kaz’s face glassy-eyed and bloodied, his throat torn open as if by teeth. fangs. nikolai blinks and the image clears. kaz, alive and flushed, long strands of his hair gently clinging to his damp skin. he swallows, holding himself still above him, breath unsteady, heart rattling in his chest. can’t move. his eyes fall on the ring, on kaz’s glittering eyes, and he slowly reaches out to brush his hair back, his fingers trailing softly down the neat line of his jaw. wants to keep touching but the sight of his scars against kaz’s pale skin sends a nervous shiver down his spine. he moves back, scooting to the edge of the bed, his back to kaz as he steadies himself, his eyes on the pale curtains. ]
We should have gone. [ a murmur to himself, barely loud enough to be heard. in his heart he knows there’s little sense in running. you can’t outrun something that lives inside of you. ] We should have left this place.
[ he sweeps his hand up nikolai's spine and digs it back into his shoulder, fingers curling and unfurling. a sound escapes like he's had the wind knocked out of him, and he has, all the thoughts cleared to make way for the barely restrained buck of his hips. the tension dissipates from his body, rolling from his shoulders down to his calves, enveloped by nikolai’s attention. jaw set in determination, he cracks his eyes so he can see exactly what he asked for, even if it means seeing nikolai curiously earnest in all this. and lovely, like always. once nikolai’s off, sure fingers sliding fast and easy down his length, kaz hears himself cry out twice before the muscles of his stomach tense. his gasps soften after that, half-lost in kisses to nikolai's temple, his cheek, anywhere he can reach.
awed that nikolai gave him everything he wanted for once, knocked stupid by his feverish kiss, absorbed in the mess made of himself and his borrowed bed — he shouldn't be surprised by how fluent nikolai is in his wants, but there's nuance in the translation and interpretation that no one else has ever managed. it takes him too long to catch up to where nikolai sprints ahead. don’t shut me out. his brow creases as he processes the dawning horror on nikolai’s face, the shake in his singed fingers, and the tendrils cracking his cheeks. can’t find the words to explain himself, possibilities violently swinging between revealing and evasive. none prove worthy of answering the tender way nikolai pushes back his hair and looks at him like he can't believe he's there.
then, nikolai’s gone.
the sudden distance reminds him that nikolai is often lost in his own head, unsure of what parts and words are real even more so than kaz, and that he struggles to anchor himself in the present just the same. the difference is that while kaz loses himself in the same halls and rooms — and can thus find his way back — nikolai keeps building new paths. stairs that lead nowhere, doors that open into nothing. it makes him harder to find than anyone kaz has ever known, but perhaps he’s getting better at giving chase. hitched up on his elbows, he watches nikolai’s shoulders lift on uneven breaths. his words could mean various things, uttered so quietly he can’t be sure he heard them right.
still, one truth supersedes all others: there’s nowhere but here. your shadow follows you everywhere you go and grows when you do wrong. ]
[ mildly, though his voice aches from overuse. ] If I were shutting you out, [ kaz swings his legs over the other side of the bed, extending the right to test the stretch of the muscle. sore in a less pleasant way than the rest of him, but that’s to be expected. ] I’d have thrown you off the bed the second you sat down.
[ the night air cools his damp skin without nikolai’s heat guarding him against it. he supposes he isn’t letting nikolai close the way he did before, but how can he? kaz rises to his feet and limps to the washroom, the sound of running water echoing in his grand rooms. in moments, he returns wearing the clothes he’d stripped off before bed that night, trousers wrinkled and shirt unbuttoned, tie loose at his neck. leaning against the open doorframe of the connecting room, he looks more spectre than man.
for his part, nikolai looks, well, somewhere between debauched and haunted, which sparks opposing instincts in his brain. slowly, he pushes himself off the wall and draws toward where nikolai sits. ]
It’s a nice night for a walk. [ tipping his head to one side and then the other, as he considers the obstacles for that proposition. ] Provided you won’t fly away. [ a beat. ] And you don’t mind black. [ borrowing his clothes so they don’t have to venture back to nikolai's chambers or alert any watchers to their activities. it’s no journey to a secret laboratory, but it’s a sign of trust, of care, of whatever they might still have slipping under his armour. when they’re close enough to touch, a glimmer of hesitancy sneaks into his slanted gaze, blue eyes almost black in the dark. prepared for nikolai to shudder into a slouching, screeching thing, with knives up his sleeves and hands flexed. could block the first strike and only sacrifice his arm to the creature that’s not quite nikolai. or nikolai could bolt past him and slip through his fingers once again. he clears his throat. ] I’m not an easy person to… [ want, love, know in any capacity. however little or much nikolai feels for him, it’s not a simple thing to manage. he swallows, throat bobbing. the bruise on his neck twinges, muscle memory. ] But you — you’re closer than you think. [ a little intake of breath. he holds up one hand, ring balanced delicately on the tip of his finger, and then extends the other, palm open to take nikolai’s and return the gift, if he’ll allow it. ]
[ he forces out a laugh, his gaze lingering as kaz passes him. ] Haven't been kicked out of a bed in years, but I'm sure you'll get another chance. [ or perhaps not. maybe it'll be months before they share a bed again, just like the last time. he looks up when kaz reappears, rumpled but mostly dressed, shadows beneath his eyes and yet still obliging to nikolai's restlessness. the familiar prick of guilt. kaz should be sleeping soundly in bed, perhaps for the first night since arriving here in at the palace. the first night that they're once again on speaking terms.
something so simple as falling asleep with him feels just as impossible as when the monster used to rule his nights. now it's just the nightmares and new terrors unearthed from forgotten places in his memory. the chains are no longer necessary to keep the demon at bay, but he finds he can't sleep unbound anymore, the restraints somehow a wretched sort of comfort after years of use. mortifying, if kaz knew. sometimes he's surprised he can't look at him and simply peg his every hidden weakness. ]
I won't fly away. Unless you wanted to come with. There's only a small chance that a royal sniper would take me out. [ another flash of a smile, relaxing his posture but watching kaz carefully. he doesn't miss the hesitancy in his gaze, fleeting as it is. doesn't doubt that kaz is armed now that he's dressed. can't blame him for any of it, considering their history, considering his general instability, considering the scars kaz bears that nikolai placed on his skin. but still kaz approaches him, the glint of the sapphire on his fingertip, a confession on his tongue. nikolai holds his gaze, quiet. you're closer than you think. is he just saying that because he knows he's losing this battle against himself? no, kaz would never shame him with pity. nikolai is the only liar here.
he forces himself to uncurl his fingers, reaching out to place his hand into kaz's waiting palm. the ring is still warm when he slides it onto his finger, past the tendrils of black marking his skin. it grounds him in a way, a physical reminder to stay in this moment, his fingers wrapping around the bone of kaz's wrist as he tugs him close, arm sliding around his waist, craning his neck to press a kiss to his throat — healthy and whole, marked only with a harmless bruise. ]
You're not hard to be with. It's only hard when you're not here. [ he draws in a breath, surprised at his own words. masks it with another quick kiss, this time to his mouth, before standing, moving away to paw through kaz's neat drawer of colorless clothing. ] Black's not really my color, you know. Sort of washes me out. [ but he settles for trousers and a white shirt, rolling up the sleeves and then running his hands through his hopelessly tousled hair, eager to leave the confines of the palace, even if it's just to trail the grounds.
he shoves his boots on and doesn't bother giving kaz time to smooth his collar or make a proper knot of his tie, instead pushing his cane into one hand and lacing his fingers through the other, pulling him out the door and through the maze of darkened hallways. they exit through a little-used tea room into a glass hothouse full of exotic greenery — lush flowers spiraling from the high ceilings, pools of water surrounded by pebbled pathways, tiny trees boasting colorful blossoms and spiky fruit. the night sky twinkles through the domed glass above their heads, and nikolai turns and presents his open palm beneath kaz's nose, a butterfly with iridescent wings opening slowly in his hand. ]
Queen Tatiana — my mother — used to hold her salons here in the winter months. Doesn't get much use now. I used to catch frogs in here, and I once broke a window trying to skip rocks on the pond. [ he places the butterfly on kaz's shoulder and pulls him through the greenhouse until they reach the doors, tipping them open and letting the light spill out into the entrance of the manicured garden, the cool night air rushing to meet them. he squeezes kaz's hand, leading them outside and down the winding path surrounded by blooming flowers and marble statues, heading for the lake halfway to the little palace. he slows their pace when they step off the paved pathway and into the grass, matching kaz's stride and keeping their hands clasped. for a long moment he says nothing, and then — ] I don't know if I can do this without you. I don't know that I want to.
[ he swallows, stopping at the bank of the lake. won't push kaz to go in tonight, not after everything. instead he eases them both into the grass, his brow furrowed at he stares at the sleek water, the moon's reflection glimmering across the surface. he feels better beneath the open sky, less trapped. still lost. still leaning too hard on kaz as if he holds all the answers. he shakes his head, reaching out to gently trace the lines beneath kaz's eye with his thumb. ] I shouldn't have dragged you out here. You're exhausted. [ he presses closer to him. ] Rest. Don't listen to me. I hardly know what I'm saying.
[ it’s only hard when you’re not here. so sweet that he doesn’t startle when nikolai pulls him close like he did before everything began to crack, entirely devoted memorising the disarming expression on nikolai’s face. surprised, perhaps, by the ease with which nikolai lies — or lets truths slip free. kaz knows himself to be difficult, remote, and cynical, but maybe that helps counterbalance a sentimental and romantic creature like nikolai. it’s not so bad on the receiving end, with his kiss soft and assuring.
too distracted to dress himself efficiently, kaz half-watches as nikolai makes a mess of his things and covers sun-deprived skin with his clothes. a warm flutter in his gut at the sight. like he’s yours. but he’s not. people aren’t things; they don’t belong to anyone. it’s enough that nikolai came back (to himself, to kaz’s room). from here, their paths will inevitably diverge.
when nikolai rushes him out the door, hands clasped in what seems like an ongoing apology, he can only muster a fond sort of annoyance, lips tight from holding back a smile. although kaz has stayed in the palace twice now, he’s never before taken this route and can’t quite hide his curiosity, gaze tilted skyward in the hothouse. hard to fathom how a lowly canal rat ended up in the queen’s gardens, walking hand-in-hand with a king. more believable is nikolai’s story: a lonely little prince, causing trouble and honing his charm to win attention.
his mouth curves before he can stop it, appreciative of nikolai’s magic trick. although he looks away quickly, the bobble in his step as they leave surely gives something away. (that nikolai can eclipse his detachment with a tug of his hand). strange to be out on the open air with nikolai, then, even under the protection of darkness. with a roll of his shoulders, he settles beside nikolai, a fixed point beside him. always reaching out, gaze heavy, still holding his hand, brow furrowed again — his eyes close and open. ]
[ dryly, ] You must be pleased, if you’re trying to ruin the moment. [ invoking kaz’s tiredness or his own imagined selfishness. nikolai’s melancholy is proof that it was right to give back to him, however much guilt having anything for himself inspires. kaz bends his good knee, stretching an arm over it. nearly yawns, but then he’d have to concede a point to nikolai instead of teasing, ] That’s your tell. [ it wears different guises (melancholy, self-destruction, violence unto others), but it comes from the same place. he slides his other hand over the small of nikolai’s back to encourage him closer. a proximity he would never have thought possible. even now, it slows his processing, caught up in the way they fit together in a new configuration.
the lakeside breeze cards through his hair. ]
I’m fine. [ tired but not exhausted, only half as burnt out as he was on their journey to the find the heart and the weeks that followed. his only affliction now is a want so big it verges on need. should leave at that, content to have this night as another miraculous thing in his memory. instead, his mind pivots, thoughts clustering around another idea. i can’t do this without you. nikolai can, but he doesn’t have to. not the whole time. ]
I have a meeting with someone who’d like to kill you tomorrow. [ a beat. ] After your evening performance. [ his altogether too loud antics at mealtimes, which kaz has skipped since the second day in the palace. ] You’ve kept in shape, haven’t you? [ mild, despite the tell-tale glint in his eye. ] Still know which way the muzzle points?
[ it’s a gamble to even mention it, with nikolai’s changeable mood — and general dislike for kaz putting himself in dangerous situations — but you can’t win the day without taking strategic risks. ]
I am very pleased. I have the greatest thief I know all to myself for the night. [ a truth, but his mind is whirring ahead, eyes flickering briefly to kaz before settling back onto the lake. his tell. he doesn't have a tell. but then everyone does, and leave it to brekker to point his out unasked. he wants to say that ruining moments is not his tell but instead an affliction that's plagued him since his youth. he's always been too reckless. always had to be twice as careful with people. he spent an inordinate amount of time figuring out what made them work, tried to unlock their secrets in a way that felt fair and honest instead of through blackmail and the nefarious methods his parents subscribed to. he wanted his understanding to grow, wanted to be the sort of man that a lantsov king hadn't been in a very long time. and still he's not been able to shake the old habit of breaking all his toys.
but kaz is nudging him closer, a small marvel amidst the wreckage he's created of everything else. somehow, he hasn't lost this. not yet. he doesn't want to think of how kaz will leave him soon, how he squandered so much of their time together, but all his thoughts seem circular these days, leading him down the same tangled paths, pushing him against the same old wounds. i'm fine, words passed between them so often they've become all but meaningless. he doesn't remember the last time he felt fine. impossible that kaz has felt fine at any point in the duration of his stay in the grand palace. his thumb trails briefly down his cheek, and he's seconds from kissing him when kaz speaks again, this time fully drawing his attention. ]
Is it someone from my drawings? Those are who you were meant to find. [ stated mildly enough, but there's a nearly indiscernible edge to his tone that he knows most people would miss. people who aren't kaz brekker. he certainly wouldn't put it past him to concoct his own schemes to run circles around them all without any of them being the wiser. but he also doesn't trust that kaz wouldn't put a bullet in the brain of any of the people clamoring for his head — but forbidding kaz to do anything would be like telling a spider not to be innately disturbing.
he flicks open the top few buttons of his shirt — kaz's shirt — and points out a small, star-shaped scar directly above his heart, too perfectly clean to be anything but unnatural. ] I stabbed myself in the heart once. It's a very long, strange story that likely should have killed me, but the point is I'm starting to believe I can't actually die, so you should feel perfectly safe handing me a pair of guns tomorrow. And I do want two. The real question is — [ he nuzzles at his throat, his hand slipping beneath the hem of kaz's shirt to graze at his skin. ] Will I have to stop you from doing anything rash? I won't have you killing our subjects.
[ he presses a kiss beneath his ear to soften his words, the side unmarred by his bruises, but there's steel there, too. his eyes flutter open, lashes brushing his skin. ] What's your game, Brekker?
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his fingertips linger around a tousled lock of his hair. his skin is still warm from his rudely awakened slumber, though sweat breaks out at his temples from — what? the strain of being near him? the pull of the water? nikolai slowly draws back, but doesn't go far, slipping the ring properly on his finger as if to answer the question of if he wants it, whether he'll wear it. kaz can steal it off him if he wants it back. ]
You told me that before. To ask for what I want. [ he fidgets with the box again before setting it between them. ] I've asked you that a dozen times and you've always answered. But I'm afraid I don't know how.
[ more painful honesty, words he'd rather leave unsaid but knows he shouldn't. a way to cut through the mire between them. he owes kaz this much. ]
What I want... [ he shakes his head. ] That's never been important. Not to any of us. Do you think Zoya wanted to be Queen? She was born for it, to be sure, and I believe wholeheartedly she is exactly what Ravka needs, but I foisted my crown upon her because there was no path in which I could hold onto it any longer. She will do what is required, just as I've been groomed my entire life to do. So when you ask me what I want... I've never put it into words. Frankly, I always thought I'd have forged a political marriage and produced an heir by now, but thankfully I'm an undesirable old cow now that I've confirmed the bastard rumors. I say that with genuine gratitude.
[ a pause as he swallows, then plunges on. ] This is a miserable place to be, isn't it? I've spent my entire life trying to make it something more, and yet we always end up in the dark. And — it's not that I don't want you in the daylight. It's just that the person you see now and the person I need to be when morning comes can't want the same things. And I'm afraid if I tell you the things I really feel that you'll — [ he looks away, eyes settling on the glow of the bone light. ] You were right to leave that night, but that doesn't mean I want you to do it again. You stated your terms, and I intend to stay within them.
[ he settles his arms on his knees, holding his hands out in the meager space between them, shadows flickering along the walls. the ring glints sharply in the light. he should keep this space empty, keep their tether disconnected, but it feels wrong to leave kaz like this, shuttered away, closed off. he relaxes his fingers, his scars even darker in the murky light. ]
No one touches my hands anymore. Not since — [ he almost expects his fingers to sharpen into long black tips, but his hands remain the same, veined with darkness down to his wrists. he focuses on the bright sapphire, steadies himself. ] Will you try? You don't have to hold them, but just — [ he turns his palms up, fingers gently curled. ] Try. I miss the feeling.
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although he tells himself to forget it and the contradictions tangled within nikolai, his mind can’t help but race ahead to chase both threads. i’m afraid if i tell you the things i really feel begs for elaboration. the things he feels about himself or kaz? i miss the feeling, he says, and kaz knows it to be a truth — as well as an attempt to fix him once and for all.
setting the bone light on the covers, he narrows the gap between them so their shoulders nearly touch, the sheets pushed back to accommodate his move. in the interest of being contrary, his fingers encircle nikolai’s wrist one after the other, an illusion of control in the gesture. if these hands threaten him, he could snap them. ]
Is it that simple? [ separating his selves — or zoya’s, for that matter — between the ruler and the man. on some level, he suspects zoya did wish for a crown. the part of her that’s most like him and nikolai, wanting too much for things like power, respect, change. that’s one of the things he’ll never admit to liking about her. (the other is her wonderfully sour disposition.)
loosing a ragged exhale, he releases nikolai. you can best this, you already did. however unpredictable nikolai may be, kaz has often read him correctly. more than that, he never feared the demon, so why should he fear the man? steeling himself, he winds an arm around nikolai’s back and finds his hand on the other side. from there, it’s a shaky but purposeful slide to entwine their fingers and lean his chest flush against him, brandy and sea salt filling his lungs. he shivers, either from the exposure or the proximity, but he stays firm and hooks his chin over nikolai’s shoulder. ]
All those people are you. [ whether he likes them or not: the person kaz sees now, the person nikolai needs to be, and the demon, too. ] They might each serve a unique purpose or create a pinch point when aligned incorrectly — [ a term they’ll both know from mechanics, when the engineer’s limbs are most in danger of being caught between gears. ] — but if you can figure out how they come together... [ he extends his other hand, tapping the box with a single finger. every man is a puzzle of competing wants and fears. being rather clever, it’s possible nikolai has already explored the possibility of reconciling his many parts, but it frightens him — the idea of having what he wants at the end of a life spent fighting for it. something kaz would understand.
his gaze flits sideways, tracing nikolai’s profile down to the column of his throat. even after everything, kaz wants badly to kiss him there, under his jaw, all the way to his freckled shoulder.
shouldn’t. can't. ]
You realise you just asked for something you wanted. [ a wryness sneaks into his tone. ] Something that you hope will help fix the problem that you’ve been unable to leave alone since you learned about it — but that you want for other reasons, too. [ it’s a gamble, when he’s never vocalised that suspicion about nikolai’s preoccupation with his affliction before, but he’s right. he knows he is. ] It’s all in the alignment.
[ of competing interests and wants, the selfish and the unselfish, no need for whatever dichotomy nikolai has created between duty and abnegation. how very like a thief to insist on settling somewhere grey. ]
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all those people are you. his patchwork life, spooling out of his control, infected with a poison he failed to predict. you already failed. it's time to move beyond that. the demon is here to stay, for better or for worse, a truth he's admitted to himself many times but somewhere along the way has stopped looking in the eye. i am the monster and the monster is me. only this time it feels unforgivable to be such a thing. ]
And if I can't? [ find the right alignment. figure out how to make this all come together. he's suddenly back in the brambles of the thorn wood, sharp branches closing in. the forever soldier. the king who's made a hundred mistakes. driving the thorn through his heart was easier than contemplating this. he turns his head, eyes closed, nose pressed to the space behind kaz's ear. ] If I told you I was lying about all of this, that I only told everyone I wanted to live because it was what they wanted to hear and it was what you demanded in exchange for your help, would you still come back if I asked?
[ he shouldn't. but this has been his lifelong struggle, his insatiable desire for the things he has no right to, the thrill of claiming them anyway. realizing again and again it's not enough. what will it take to settle the storm within him, to calm the disquiet and find a way to peace? even now he's buzzing with distractions, of ways he can push kaz just a little further — until kaz clocks him in a way he hasn't before but nikolai realizes he's been thinking this entire time. weeks. months. his eyes slide open, lashes brushing kaz's skin. guilt plucks at him. he wants to help him, genuinely. unselfish. wants to solve the puzzle of kaz brekker. selfish. wants to be able to touch him, to kiss him, to be careful or reckless without thought. selfish. maybe not wholly selfish, if kaz wants it, too. he wants to be a place to house his wants and needs, a safe place to land. the same thing he's wanted to be from the start. something he's not sure he can be anymore. it's all in the alignment.
he lets go of the crumpled sheet, allows his bare fingers to brush the sharp cut of kaz's hip. his hand ghosts higher, tracing the ridges of his spine, gliding along the nape of his neck, nestling into his hair. perhaps kaz is testing his limits, but nikolai needs this as much as he does. he closes his eyes again, letting the quiet warmth wash over him, listening to the rabbiting of his own heart. ]
Do you want me to leave it alone now? [ he knows kaz's requirements to work through this. a partner. someone he trusts. and nikolai was that, until he snapped their tether. he doesn't know how to move backwards. regret fills him. ] You have good reason not to trust me anymore.
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[ without hesitation, ] I’d tell you I already knew that, Nikolai. [ because i know you. not to mention, extracting that particular agreement while holding nikolai and zoya over a barrel invariably throws its strength into question. ] That if you died before I made it here, I’d charge Ravka double for wasting my time. [ he huffs a breath. ] And that you’d make for a hideous corpse. [ based on the flashes that invade his dreams and waking life. ] Try again. [ if he can’t, if he fails, if he thinks that’s enough of a threat to stop kaz brekker from dragging him back from hell with a black-gloved hand. ]
[ at the thought of nikolai never again in his arms, gone from this world, he tightens his hold. perhaps he fears that more than the rising waters, which already stole someone from him that he'll never get back. nikolai’s lashes kiss his skin, and he wants — he wants. nerves fizz in his stomach, either from the wanting or the consequences of having. when nikolai finally returns his touch, a soft sound escapes his mouth, the sensation like the jolt of ice on hot skin. no argument against his observations come, confirming their accuracy. nikolai wants him and wants to fix him, cutting through the fog of doubt. it’s his hand — gentle, blackened, untouched for so long — that fits into his hair as it did before. ]
I don’t. [ a beat. it takes audible effort to expel the words, stuck in his throat. ] I don’t want you to leave it alone. [ hypocrite, refusing to say what he wants unconditionally after asking for the same. ] Stay. [ he noses into the crook of nikolai's neck, swallowing hard. impossible to know what will happen if kaz kisses him. or what will happen if you don’t. ] Not as part of my terms or penance. Just — Stay.
[ nikolai’s rejection had been clear and repeated when they were last together. even if he was lying through his teeth, a part of him believes it would be better if this ended. now it’s up to him whether that part takes precedence over the ones that seem drawn to kaz again and again, or if it can be re-aligned with the rest of his person to serve the same goals.
it burns to think of that rejection and the ones that came before it in fjerda and novyi zem. his spine tenses as he anticipates another. you’re a stubborn fool, for chasing something he’ll never deserve, unable to show it enough light to ensure its survival. it might be that his own behaviour is what snapped their tether. frayed by every manipulative tactic and threat in his arsenal. he pushed too far, like he did in novyi zem — like he always does, greedy and uncompromising. maybe he'll never get the chance to try again.
he brushes his lips over nikolai’s pulse and waits for the storm. ]
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i'm tired is the answer he wants to give to try again — tired of trying, tired of the chance of not being enough — but stay snaps something to attention, a soft demand, a simple request that he believed he'd broken too much between them to hear. it sparks a dying flame to life, a ragged warmth in his chest. words press to his tongue, words that he swallows back down. the one truth was enough, already leaving him too exposed — but worse, leaving a burden in kaz's hands. there's no way to take back the reality of what he feels, and he already regrets that he knows kaz will think of it in restless agitation, will brood over how to solve it and know that he can't, all the while pretending it isn't on his mind at all. no, better to keep his truths close to his chest. what did he say? even barrel bosses have lovers on the geldstraat and children secreted away. to admit to something more would be giving kaz a lever of his own to be used against him. would he really want that?
but his thoughts are cut short at the soft feeling of kaz's face pressing into his neck, his breath warm where it cascades unevenly against his skin. another thing he didn't expect — kaz pushing himself so hard after everything, and with such success. he holds still, his mind a sudden uproar of all the ways he could ruin this fragile, tenuous connection. it won't survive another dismantling. that much he's sure of. he wants to pull away, wants to stop while they're ahead. they could still be — something. friends. associates. people who look at each other across rooms and wonder forever what might have become of them. but if he stops this now, he thinks kaz might not forgive that, either. and nikolai might not forgive himself.
his fingers glide gently through his dark hair, eyes open but unseeing in the dim room, his breath heavy with — what? nerves. fear. want. he shouldn't do this, shouldn't peg his hopes onto a person like this, but kaz makes him want to try and keep trying, to summon the haggard pieces of himself back into the man he knows is still somewhere inside of him. his eyes press shut at the flutter of lips at his jumping pulse, a softly tentative gesture, maybe all kaz can give. his stained fingers carefully rise, ghosting over kaz's jaw, lifting his chin as he coaxes his face toward his, meeting the bright blue of his eyes. for the longest moment he doesn't move at all, fingertips to his skin, flooded with doubt and arrested with longing. ]
Don't go yet. [ because he knows the end of this pitiful job is near, that kaz can only do so much, that he will have to walk this path of atonement alone. ] I don't know what to say to make them love me again. [ and if kaz ever wondered if he was daft, he just confirmed it without question. people like zoya, kaz, even alina hadn't cared about being adored, but he needs it, craves it, feels bereft without it. it feels like a personal failing, a measure he can't reach. even these long days of bitter silence between the two of them have been hard to contend with for more than just the obvious reasons. he can't bear the thought that kaz might dislike him as a person after the things he did.
he tips his forehead to his, his eyes sliding shut, his breath rushing out of him as his hand cradles the base of his skull, holding him close. it would take just one push for their mouths to brush. he swallows. ] Don't go. I haven't even shown you the lake. I haven't taken you in the water. I haven't done any of the things I said because I just — I haven't wanted to live. But — I want more time with you.
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at close range, the light illuminates barely a sketch of nikolai’s features, with the details shaded in with memory. and therefore unreliable, the same as any prediction based on the man he thinks he knows. every second that passes is another opportunity for nikolai to turn again, a flip of the coin between his fingers. kaz squares his shoulders and drops his hands. someone has to go first.
don’t go yet stalls his movements — a natural partner to his request that nikolai stay — but it’s the uncertain confession after that pulls him closer. it surprises him more that nikolai admits to wanting love than that he wants it all. the self-flattery has always read as both invitation and savvy construction.
did kaz’s scowls and silence in the last few days bother him? that could be why nikolai sought his favour in the first place, the thrill of being liked by the one who hates all else and solving the puzzle of his person.
a tip of his head bumps their noses, blood rushing to his cheeks. he doubts nikolai expects him to help win love, having so rarely desired or received it. the most affection anyone feels for him now is loyalty, surely. nikolai will have to trudge that uneasy road alone. but he won’t. or can’t. doesn’t want to. already, kaz’s gears turn and turn, trying to solve this despite the din rising in his skull. (nikolai’s hand on his face, his mouth a breath away from a kiss, the heat contaminating his skin).
he knows nikolai no longer wants to try. he knows. he knows, but every time he hears it, thinks it, perceives it — it’s too much. ]
So take it. [ the gruff voice he knows to be his own, even as it says things he hasn’t planned. ] Take the time. [ time to hook his fingers into the nearest available anchor. and if that’s you? a tremor cuts down his back. if either of them have any sense, it won’t be. ] Start with what you want. [ time with him, his people’s love; the former of which seems more unreal than the latter. ] Go from there.
[ kaz leans to press their lips together, over so quick that his features open in surprise that it happened at all. his eyes dart over the bow of nikolai’s mouth before he shuts them, the dark expanse of the harbour stretching out before him. it’s not just want. it’s the other thing. the pounding in his chest that drowns out the waves.
he closes his fist in the collar of nikolai’s robe and surges forward into a kiss. ]
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end this misery. why did he say anything at all? why did he even come here? the same reason he does anything. foolish hope. he's a breath from pulling away when kaz finally speaks, stealing the string of inane excuses lined up in his throat with words nikolai doesn't expect to hear. he can never predict when kaz is going to drop a bit of scathing wit to pull a grin from him or if he's going to say something that will leave a part of him permanently scorched for better or for worse. it's part of the terrible thrill of knowing kaz brekker.
this is the latter. a bridge in the gaping abyss he's been facing for months, the ropes worn, the wood rotten. so take it. take the time. can he? a sane man wouldn't attempt to cross it. he'll fall to his death. so what if he does? start with what you want. this again. what does he want? is it enough to just want this? to find the sky in kaz's eyes, to feel the warm flush of his cheeks against his careful fingertips? he can't do this to him. can't make a drowning man his anchor. but right now nikolai is drowning too, has been drowning for months, and kaz is granting him permission to come up for air, however that looks like.
but what if it looks like dragging him into the dark with him? the thought doesn't have time to linger, not when kaz kisses it away so quickly that nikolai is unsure it even happened. what it a mistake? maybe. but the second time isn't, not with the purposeful way kaz drags him in by his collar, their mouths crashing with all the inevitability of the shore meeting the tide. desire cuts cleanly through his doubts, pushing kaz down into the rumpled sheets of the bed, the puzzle knocked to the floor, the bone light lost somewhere in the covers. one hand braces against the pillow, the other tilting kaz's jaw up as his mouth seeks the wild pulse at his throat, pressing his tongue to the unsteady lilt, alive. ]
I want you. [ his mouth sucks sharply at the delicate skin, then soothes it with a kiss, reddened and ready to bloom into a bruise. don't go is on the tip of his tongue again, but he's already asked. he'll have to hope it's enough. his fingers trace the line of his jaw, the curve of his lips, then skate lower down his chest and past his hips, ghosting to his inner thigh where he seeks out his soft skin and the scar he knows is there, remembering the bandage he'd wrapped around his leg the last night they were together in fjerda. he presses a breathless kiss to his mouth, eyes fluttering open in a desperate, dangerous plea. ] If I can't have you, I don't want the rest. I don't want any of it anymore. Just this. You.
[ sealed with another kiss, as if it he doesn't want kaz to be able to say anything reasonable to his witless claims. he doesn't want reason or logic. he doesn't want kaz to point out his obvious delusions or even the unfair burdens he's placing squarely on his shoulders. he just wants this. he breaks the kiss to drag his mouth down the line of his throat, down his chest, down the flat planes of his stomach until he noses at his cock without warning, lifting kaz's pale legs to hook them over his shoulders as he eases his hips up. he kisses the head of his cock and laps his tongue out to gently slide the tip past his lips, his eyes hazy and dark as he finds kaz's gaze in the dim light. ]
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when nikolai shoves him down, air rushes past his lips. a possible outcome — an optimal one, from a certain angle, just not expected. doesn’t matter. already, he pushes the robe down nikolai’s arms, thumbs dragging over his skin until he has to move to pull the tie free at his waist and toss it aside. kaz stops short of tearing the damn thing off entirely. it might be the purchase he needs when the exposure threatens to rattle his limbs. ]
You want me? [ scoffed on an uneven breath, like he doesn’t believe it. except his pulse wouldn’t spike if he didn’t. his breath hitches as nikolai marks him, threading a hand into his hair and thinking about how they both wrenched each other away the last time. ] How much? [ unfair to ask when nikolai has told him already in comparatives: perhaps more than he wants his suffering to end, maybe less than he desires security for ravka or absolution for his wrongs.
if i can’t have you, i don’t want the rest. without meaning to, kaz digs his nails into nikolai’s hip, free hand sliding over his back where his horrible wings spring free. this is predictable, he reminds himself. nikolai always makes grand proclamations in moments like this, needful and emotional. a retort sharpens against his teeth, but he loses the shape of it as nikolai kisses him soundly, fingers pressing over one of the scars from his service to ravka, of a kind with the gash that opened his gut the first time, the lines across his palm and shoulders. as much a proof of affection as the bruise nipped into his neck. he kisses back hard, both hands sliding to cup nikolai’s face. maybe if he plays this the same way as the first hand, too fast to overthink, he can give nikolai enough. ]
For how long? [ lilting into a tease while nikolai trails down his chest. ] Just the next hour? [ until sunrise, when he thinks better of invoking his twice broken fantasies. i want more time with you brims with promise and the disappointment that so often trails it. doesn’t know what he expected to happen, only that he didn’t think nikolai would slip back into their intimacy so quickly, after everything kaz did. his next words stick in his throat, inhale sudden and sharp as nikolai mouths at the tip of his cock. green eyes sun-bright even in the blackness, something of the fox in the quirk of his mouth. trust nikolai to take his advice when he least expects it. ]
Would that be enough for you? [ it’s an honest question and a dare. rhetorical and not. nikolai admitting what he wants aloud matters, but kaz wants more — expects more, after all he’s given. he reaches for it now, carding his fingers through nikolai’s hair and gently coaxing him down his length. ]
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too many questions. suddenly kaz is full of things to say, full of things he wants to know that nikolai can't even begin to explain. don't go doesn't just mean tonight or tomorrow or next week. he doesn't want to see kaz leave this ugly, blindingly sunny suite that zoya placed him in as some kind of punishment. he doesn't want to see him board a ship to ketterdam. he doesn't want to wake up and realize they're not under the same gaudy roof anymore, that an ocean stands between them once again, that he has no idea when he might see him or touch him or kiss him next, if ever.
kaz thinks he's so clever, posing these questions like funny little traps when the truth is that it will never be enough. nikolai will always want more than the world can ever give him. he will always want to dig deeper, push harder, break kaz open just a little more each time — and he fears, eventually, that kaz will tire of this. of his lies and excuses, of his erratic behavior. of him. how long can they stretch this thread? ]
It wouldn’t be enough. [ fleetingly, he meets his gaze. he should say more. explain, somehow, what he means, lest kaz think that he isn’t enough. his thoughts jumble and snag, disarrayed. how can he keep him here? he can’t. isn’t that what kaz is always saying? you can’t keep people? something like that. something nikolai doesn’t want to think about, because everything feels like a countdown. it always does with them. it’s easier to follow as kaz guides his mouth down the length of his cock, suckling him gently as desire stirs within him. it’s been so long since this last happened that he wants to make it last, but it feels impossible to hold back, his mouth eager, greedily swallowing him down, his darkened fingers pressing hard into kaz’s hips. a low moan rumbles through his throat. ]
The sky. [ a rough whisper, punctuated by a wet sound as he pops kaz from his mouth and drags his hand along his length. he licks his rosy lips. ] Or the sea. You choose where I take you tomorrow. [ a flash of a boyish grin, a kiss to his inner thigh. ] Choose the submarine. We’ll go flying next time.
[ next time. a disguised but no less desperate don’t go. his thumb presses to the pearly wetness collecting at the tip of his cock, smearing it messily over the head before he slides him into his mouth again, his eyes shuttering as he takes him in deep, one hand blindly reaching out to search for the familiar clasp of kaz’s fingers. he’s suddenly afraid of what he might say. what if he says no? he can’t stay? he won’t go anywhere with him? tears spring to his eyes as kaz’s cock hits the back of his throat, heat pulsing through him as his own need heightens. better to render kaz speechless than to hear whatever he might say next, his cheeks flushing as he swallows hard and tries to silence the ticking clock in his head. ]
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better to move on than allow nikolai to ask how much? how long? in return. no job, however perilous, ever manages to lock nikolai out of his mind. time apart hasn’t dulled his want. his eyes crack and fix on nikolai’s red mouth. perfect for kissing. for false promises. for this, his moan vibrating over kaz’s cock. ]
Nikolai — [ an acknowledgement. a warning. he turns his head into his arm to muffle the sound nikolai wrings from him.
the sky or the sea. two places he’s never been fond of that nikolai loves and, therefore, have held his attention longer than they ever did before. (uncharacteristically clear harbour mornings, warm slivers of afternoon light, churning waves at the canals’ entrances.) all far from the overwhelming present, where his heels dig at nikolai’s muscled back.
when nikolai fumbles for his hand, kaz entwines their fingers. his clumsiness is a tell, but of what? nerves or need? next time? there’s a flash of the future nikolai wants most — or second most? always, somewhere at the back of his mind — neck bent under the weight of his corpse. he gasps, wide eyes searching for nikolai’s own but only finding his lashes, glistening against his freckled cheek. the sight plucks at whatever frayed string ties them together. okay.
however incomplete his understanding of nikolai is, it inevitably leads them back here. kaz focuses on that, the idea that it’s nikolai taking him apart, still wanting and not yet dead. as long as that’s true, he’ll keep them afloat. screwing his eyes shut, his thoughts collapse under nikolai’s keen attention. no waiting like the last time, no being told to ask for what he wants. perhaps he should offer some encouragement or urging of his own accord, but even that seems like too much with the heat rolling through him. he tightens his grip on nikolai’s hair to hold him still the way he did for kaz months ago, the first and only time he offered this to anyone in return.
a moan jolts from his throat, and he comes like that, legs trembling, heart rattling in the cavern of his chest. he’d almost forgotten what it feels like with nikolai — an indescribable rush, an impossible warmth. shuddering breaths hollow his chest. after a long moment, his gaze opens on the gilded ceiling, hand slackening in nikolai’s hair. ]
The sea will do. [ a low, airy thing. the ravkan submarines have piqued his interest since he heard whispers of them. always thought he’d nick the plans before ever being invited on board. it takes a few breaths to dampen the excitement flickering at the possibility. none of nikolai’s charmed tomorrows have come to pass. this one will be no different. ]
You’ll have to earn the next time. [ not quite teasing. he’ll want to see your eyes. the fair-weather sky. kaz finally looks up at him then, mouth quirking at one side despite his efforts. ]
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his eyes widen. the sea will do. is that a yes? he glances up, too eager, kaz's hand gentle in his hair. his heart skitters in his chest as he catches sight of his eyes, longing surging through him as he rises to press his mouth to his, sinking down beside him as his hand slides along kaz's hip, pulling him closer. stay. it’s in his kiss, in the way he holds him even if he doesn’t yet say it. he wants to reel his mind back, to keep himself in this moment instead of careening forward to the inevitability of when kaz is no longer here. you’ll have to earn the next time. there. something to focus on, something more to make right. a path to follow. ]
Then tell me you’ll stay. Give me more time to earn back your trust. Just — don’t leave me alone, not yet. [ his fingers sweep to kaz’s cheek, one arm locking around his waist. the words are out before he can think better of them, whispered into his mouth and chased with a kiss as if he can somehow take them back. he smiles to dull their precision, dangerously close to begging. to stop talking altogether might be the best course of action, but he supposes he would’ve figured out how to do that by now if he were capable of it.
his fingers pull through kaz’s hair, clearing his unruly locks from his eyes as he draws in a steadying breath and exhales around what he hopes sounds like an easy laugh. it feels wholly contrived, too tightly wound. his gaze slides away to the jagged fissures marking his hands, stark against kaz’s pale skin. in an instant he shuts it all out, leaning forward and pressing into another kiss, his eyes sliding closed. ]
Let’s go now. Tonight. [ he’s suddenly desperate to leave the palace, to take kaz while he has him, still afraid that this all might slip through his fingers quicker than he can blink. what will tomorrow bring? maybe he won’t be able to sway the people to forgive him, not when he hasn’t forgiven himself. maybe he’s not a convincing enough liar. he rolls kaz atop him, bracketing him securely between his knees. a sight he doesn’t see often, but kaz looks good above him, his hair slipping back down to frame the sharp angles of his face, his eyes piercing in the dim light. the sheets tangle beneath them. he sighs out a breath, his heart beating too fast, mind racing too quickly. nerves for tomorrow. nerves about this. restless exhaustion. he wishes he could sleep but knows he can’t, doesn’t really want to when it brings nothing but horror. it would steal this time away from him, away from kaz.
he traces the curve of kaz’s spine, fingers ghosting along each bony ridge, and flashes a quick smile. ] If you sell out my secret passageways to my secret laboratory, Sturmhond will have no choice but to come to Ketterdam and very loudly play the part of your jilted lover. He’s very good at prolonged theatrics, you know, and he can very easily become a nightly disturbance at the Crow Club. I hear he's very difficult to kill, too.
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in return, kaz meets every kiss, though his reaction time is slowed. hadn’t anticipated the scale of nikolai’s need or the rush to act, necessitating recalibration. there’s something more in his kisses, too — his hold tugging kaz flush, his smile cracked at the edges. at least at this exact point, kaz must be what he wants. at least until sunrise, he could be what nikolai needs, pressed between his legs like he belongs there.
let’s go now. tonight. a chill chases nikolai’s fingers down his spine, so kaz eases up on his hands, weight shifting off nikolai. talk of sturmhond in ketterdam earns a mild scowl, though his fantasies latch onto the natural corollary to that threat (nikolai in ketterdam, a scenario he’d guarded against desiring until the end, when nikolai slipped past his defences). not again. his eyes narrow, then settle. his wrinkled brow suddenly smoothed. one hand pushes open nikolai’s robe to expose his chest. ]
I’m here. [ a peck to his mouth and then another. one of the only reassurances he knows that nikolai understands, affection prized above all else. careful. not i’m staying. he isn’t. not for long. can’t, having already shirked his duties by lingering here. he swipes his tongue along the seem of nikolai’s lips, licking into his mouth as if a proper kiss can prove his devotion. ]
Do you really wish to go now? [ breathless as he noses into nikolai’s cheek to drop kisses along his jaw and down his throat. his hands search for nikolai’s again, gently winding them back against the sheets. kaz mouths all the way to his collarbone, sucking a mark where the annoying v of shirt usually folds open. ] Just us? [ curious. a passage out of the palace to the rumoured laboratory, its inventions worth more kruge than every dusty heirloom in the palace and not one secret among them that he'd sell. he drags the flat of his tongue lower, pausing only to nip at nikolai‘s stomach. his murmur grinds rough in his throat. ] Alone in the night — without your keepers? [ a hum to feign thoughtfulness as he draws back up nikolai’s torso. for a moment, he hesitates, hovering above nikolai before lowering to rest his weight against him fully, untangling their hands to fold his arms atop nikolai’s chest, the gifted ring dangling off a hooked finger. stolen because he can, not because he intends to take it back. ]
[ arching a brow, ] You could slip through my fingers. [ to escape the agreement kaz forced him into, or perhaps to return to the vigilantes’ torturous grasp. this entire reconciliation could be contrived, a lovely snare. ] And then I’d have to put them to use elsewhere just to draw you back. [ stealing secrets, prototypes, whatever he can carry so that sturmhond or nikolai might come bother him. a threat for a threat.
the sapphire inlay catches his eye, and kaz finds himself abruptly overwhelmed by the idea of nikolai likening the black tide of his gaze to precious gems — the blue of the sky. he closes his fist around the ring and rests his head on his arms so he won’t have to look at it or nikolai any longer, ignoring the equally sentimental musing that he hasn’t laid on anyone since jordie. this close, the steady beat of nikolai's heart, healthier than it was in fjerda, evens his own jumping pulse. ]
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his answer gets caught somewhere in his throat — yes, yes, i've never wanted to be away from a place so badly in my life — kaz's tongue warm and wet against the planes of his stomach, butterfly wings taking flight beneath his skin — and then a sour scoff huffs from his lips. his keepers. he's had guards his whole life, but it feels decidedly different now. far more aggravating. a sparkle catches the light, his ring poised on kaz's slender — sneaky — finger. he resists the utterly foolish urge to look at his bare hand, wondering just when he'd slipped it off, how he hadn’t felt a thing. ]
Does this feel like a trap to you? [ he watches kaz carefully as he suddenly seems to flicker elsewhere, nestling atop his chest. it stills his movements, calms a bit of the disquiet rattling in his head. what is he thinking of? it’s the question that comes to him often when he catches a glimpse of kaz from across a room or — now, when he’s close and yet somewhere else, his mind just as busy as nikolai’s and yet his mannerisms betraying none of the malaise in his head, still as a sleeping serpent curled in its nest. a skill nikolai has never been able to master. even now his fingertips drum along the neat lines of kaz’s hip, sweeping higher to trace the tattoo at his bicep. ] Either way, you seem quite content to be in it.
[ it’s not. he came here with an embarrassing lack of logic or reason, nothing beyond the pull of loneliness and regret and longing stringing him along to kaz’s door. his hand nestles at the nape of kaz’s neck, blunt fingernails scratching along his cropped hair. every touch feels new, and he has to wonder if it is. has anyone touched him here? maybe this can be the reason he came here tonight, to offer something long overdue, something kaz deserves. because nikolai certainly does not deserve this, not with his sins piled so high that he can hardly see a way past them.
his fingertips glide across his cheek, touching the corner of his lips. he wants to leave the palace, wants to be in the silence of the deep underwater right now, but his submarines are just imagined monsters to most, and he can only assume kaz might be intrigued but less than eager to submerge himself to such watery depths. he almost lets it slip that the wraith has gotten a tour already, but he’s distracted by his mouth, two fingers pressing inside, his cock giving a twinge as they’re enveloped in soft, wet heat. ]
What have you done in this bed? [ he presses the pad of his fingers to kaz’s tongue, thinking of long nights alone during their bitter silence. was kaz too angry to even think of him, too hurt? had the long months spent apart before this dulled his memory of these stolen moments? so much has happened. so much that nikolai still struggles to find the words for. he pulls his fingers from kaz’s mouth and replaces them with a kiss, pushing his tongue past his lips and drawing his wet hand down between kaz’s legs, nudging them open. this, he can do, one wet finger gently coaxing kaz open. his mouth slides to his cheek. ] Tell me. Have you thought of me? Or have you only thought of murdering me?
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his hand tightens around the ring, pressing the metal into his palm. ]
[ under his breath, ] It’s not a trap if I can see it. [ if he can see through the fog, it’s an opportunity, a puzzle, a move that can be countered. that is to say, yes, it feels like a trap. it felt like stepping onto the hinge of steel jaws in order to reach nikolai in his room, too, like thinking his reflexes were nimble enough to shield his vitals. a miscalculation. if it isn’t a trap, it’s — well, it would have to be — something real rather than mere convenience and desperation. nikolai is drowning and needs someone to drag him from the depths; that’s all. ] Hm.
[ although he wants to deny the observation, his mind fails to conjure an adequate excuse for why he stalls here, muscles relaxing under nikolai’s ever-shifting fingers, a close-mouthed sigh audible as he scratches the base of his skull. another vulnerable, untouched place, like everywhere nikolai seems enamored with: a familiar bruise already flourishes behind his ear, and his tattoo burns as if inked anew by nikolai’s black-tipped hands. nikolai is still hard against his thigh, a favour unreturned, but he hasn't asked for it. never does.
kaz shutters his eyes, evading scrutiny, until nikolai’s fingers graze his mouth. he knows what that might foretell — the pieces of him that nikolai most likes to touch. after months apart, the fear cuts deeper now than it had at the end, but kaz parts his mouth all the same, lapping at his fingers and nipping at the pad of his thumb when he draws away.
he slips the ring onto his finger so he doesn’t lose it, curling his otherwise bare hand over nikolai’s shoulder to leverage into a deeper kiss, too eager for more. can’t swallow the quiet moan nikolai pulls from him. his silence and scowls mean nothing when he gives in this easily, opening his legs to welcome nikolai’s touch, cock soft, wet and cooling between them. more and less resistance to the intrusion than the last time. not as slick, but not as unprepared, either.
what have you done in this bed? not nothing. ]
Not at first. [ shouldn’t have said that, dangerously close to admitting he couldn’t. he pushes through the nausea and regret, entangling his gut. ] I thought — [ that nikolai would be angrier, that kaz might have lost him forever. i’m done holding your hand reverberated in this cavernous room, every fantasy ruined by the memory of reality. he bends his good knee into the bedspread to improve nikolai’s angle, breath stuttering. maybe nikolai moves so briskly to keep his thoughts from splintering. and maybe that's a decent strategy, after all. ] Never imagined you this penitent, for starters. [ unable to dull his words, even while panting hot into nikolai’s hair. this is penance, isn’t it? ] But I thought of you. You know I did. [ like nikolai knowing could rob his confession of its potency, the same as seeing a trap laid out ahead. anything to make it sound ordinary instead of singular. ] Is this how you thought of me?
[ or did nikolai want him to apologise and beg forgiveness instead? to strangle him so that his poison tongue might never wound him again? ]
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not at first reveals more than kaz perhaps intended. his face floods with heat, both desire and shame, eyes fixed on kaz above him. what does it mean? had he thrown him back to the start? he did, because he could barely touch him when he first came into this room. his breath pulls tight with regret, though it's easy to mask the sudden hitch as something else. he cranes his neck, tipping their mouths together, moving without thought. kaz's warm breath cascades over his lips. it's penance, but it's more than that. it's more than he's willing to say, more than he can say, because now he has to think about every single word and how much damage it might cause. the words he harbors in his chest can cut too deeply when the wounds he inflicted before haven't yet healed over. he can feel it in the way kaz touches him, kisses him — he's eager, willing, but he's holding back, too. mistrust or self-preservation or both. nikolai can't fault him for either. ]
No. [ no, that's not right. he can't have kaz thinking there was ever a moment he didn't want him. ] Yes, of course, but not only like this. [ often, yes. nightly, even. hard not to, with kaz renewing his memories of the hard, lean lines of his body, the quiet noises pulled from his throat. nikolai keeps his strokes gentle, easing inside of him, letting up when he feels resistance and pressing on when kaz bears down against his hand. he's fascinated by the flush that creeps along his chest, his free hand brushing the warm heat of his cheek before reaching between them to fist kaz's cock. ] I just —
[ just what? he swallows, his throat edged with finely ground glass. everything that's come out of his mouth for weeks has been a lie, and now the press of the truth against his tongue petrifies him. but i thought of you. he repeats those words in his head, a confession kaz had the courage to make. you know i did feels tacked on to lessen the blow. but — no, he didn't. he wasn't sure if kaz had somehow incinerated his memory and decided to despise him to his end of days. long nights spent avoiding sleep have given him too many hours to fabricate scenarios of all kinds, most of which never turn out in his favor. he's even imagined this, of showing up at kaz's door with repentance on his lips and being turned away with blue eyes gone cold — or worse yet, showing up at kaz's door and finding the room empty.
but one day soon it will be empty. he draws in a breath, swallows again. some things he has no choice but to lie about. but he doesn't have to lie about this. ]
I thought of you in my bed many times. But we were just sleeping. [ he huffs out a quiet breath, mouth quirking. he licks his lips. ] I mostly thought of you away from the palace. I wanted to show you Os Alta. Didn't intend to ruin that so grandly. But then I would think about the things that I said to you, and it seemed better to let this stay broken. To let you go. But now... [ he flashes a brief smile, his voice strained. ] I can't stop thinking of you going back to Ketterdam. And how empty it will feel here without you.
[ he slips a second finger in, letting go of his cock to draw his hips down closer, hand splayed at the small of his back. his mouth brushes his throat. ] Are you all right?
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as nikolai pumps his cock, kaz half-buries another moan, louder and longer, into his neck. too sensitive and still coaxing back to hardness for nikolai. would do this as many times as he wanted, if it would keep them both here, grounded in mind and body. he scrapes his teeth down nikolai’s perfect jaw, darting up and soothing his mouth with a kiss when he stutters. those tender instincts that nikolai inspired of him aren’t gone, then, just rusted.
kaz nudges his nose and let’s their foreheads press together, shark’s eyes watching him at close range. can’t tame the fluttering in his chest any longer: nikolai thought of him as a comfort, something to have beside him during the nights he hates. and claims to have imagined him elsewhere, places too open and bright for this shadowy connection of theirs.
are you all right? a question so gentle that it strips him raw, nikolai’s hand burning sweetly at the small of his back. inside him, around him, an unmatched feeling of being held that he tried to forget so he could stand apart again. ]
I — yes. Wait. [ he leans to the side, pushing nikolai down in the process with a hand splayed against his sternum, and fumbles in his table for something. ] Give me your hand. [ the snick of a lid echoes tinny in the room before a metal pot is pressed into nikolai’s palm. perhaps he did more in this bed than even nikolai considered. cheeks warm, kaz slides his oil-slick hand down nikolai’s length and doubles back to swipe the moisture gathering at the tip. impossible to see between their bodies in the dark, but he knows it to be flushed and red just from taking care of him.
it’s the only comfort he can offer when he can’t — won’t allow himself to be caught in his devotion. doesn’t say i’ll always go back to ketterdam, so you’ll always know where to find me pushing the door wide open, hinting at the constancy he wants from someone he can barely hold onto in the moment. ]
You didn’t let go. [ a beat. ] You have me still. [ in ways that no else does. ] Tell me that’s what you want. [ again. greedy. ] Ask me to stay a little longer. [ because nikolai wants him, needs him. it doesn’t have to be more sentimental than that — it isn’t, he reminds himself. it doesn’t even have to true. it just needs drown out the nikolai who said the opposite, added to the chorus of voices in his head. contrary to how he tried to spin his ceaseless thoughts earlier (as expected, ordinary), even nikolai’s cruellest words refused to leave him. ]
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his oiled fingers spread kaz open, the resistance nearly gone. can't wait any longer, not with kaz working him over like this. he rises quickly, pushing kaz onto his back and pinning him to the bed, his mouth immediately brushing over his jaw, nuzzling beneath his ear, planting warm kisses down his throat. like he'll never be close enough. why does it always feel like this, like this moment will slip through his fingers with one wrong touch, the tick of the clock so loud in his head? it was a countdown in fjerda and it's the same now, even with kaz promising him more time. his sandy lashes brush over kaz's heated cheeks as his eyes open. he has to stay in this moment. it's the only way he can do this.
he draws kaz's legs around his waist, crushing their mouths together in a long kiss. you didn't let go. he didn't. he couldn't. he's tethered to kaz brekker whether he wants to be or not, and even when he thinks it might be better if he wasn't, he knows that's not true. he knows he wouldn't be here right now if not for this wretched tether. ]
Stay. [ a familiar refrain now, as he lifts kaz's hips to press into him, painstakingly careful, his brows drawn tight as he breathlessly watches kaz's face. briefly, his eyes squeeze shut, tight heat enveloping him. his fingers dig into the sheets as he drops his forehead to kaz's temple. ] Stay with me. Don't go. Just — a little longer. [ his hips shudder with one last push, flush against him. he forces himself to be still, brushing a kiss to kaz's ear, feeling the tension radiating from his body. he brings a hand down to gently ease along kaz's thigh, coaxing him to relax. ] It's okay. Hold onto me. You still have me, too.
[ a promise. an atonement. maybe it won't be enough. one night is hardly enough to make amends, to rebuild this broken trust. his fingers brush over kaz's cheek, a tremor in his blackened fingertips. his hips rock ever so slightly, a spark of pleasure igniting between them. ]
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the stretch edges into something aching. a gasp opens his throat, breath stuttering after it. he notices nikolai shift in time to lean into his momentum, and it lands him on his back. vulnerable, teeth perfectly placed to draw blood. the pounding in his skull — like a gunshot grazed his ear — only quiets as nikolai smears kisses down his neck instead of tearing into the skin.
a flash of green meets his gaze, like the fields of lij outstretched before him. past encroaching on his present, the way the future reaches backwards to seize nikolai. he remembers, then, that it isn’t easy for nikolai either. tangling a hand in his hair, kaz meets his kiss with sudden surety, pressing one into another, pecks yawning into deep drags. better to drown in this (heart swelling, lungs full) than the harbour. anticipation coils in his stomach — or perhaps that’s nausea and nerves swirling together.
when nikolai guides his legs higher, kaz hooks them at his waist, the right looser than left. stay. tensions ekes out of him as he lets his head fall back. for a little longer. nikolai pushes inside, a tighter but more satisfying stretch, and he whines through his teeth, only returning his stare until it burns. too much like being pinned under the microscope and plucked apart.
no one else has stolen a glimpse of him this unguarded, and yet he lets nikolai look his fill. after a few weeks and a good fuck. blunt nails dig into nikolai’d shoulder, features scrunching then smoothing with effort. you still have me as tender as nikolai’s tremulous efforts to soothe him with taction. yes, somehow after everything he said, nikolai came back. ]
Yes — [ back arching to return the favour and feel the incremental shift inside him. overwhelming, always overwhelming, with nikolai. ] Against all odds. [ a huffed breath that’s half-laugh. the odds of nikolai having him or him having nikolai are minuscule, even without accounting for the impossibility of their wants dovetailing in the present moment. ] I’ll stay. [ a little longer, as long as nikolai needs him, no, only as long as he can afford to — which isn’t enough. fuck, it’s not going to be enough. quickly — ] If you keep talking. [ can’t help but needle and bargain. ] Tell me how it feels.
[ he turns his head into nikolai’s touch, brushing a kiss over his fingertips and parting his mouth to invite them to press inside. ]
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what is he thinking? he wants to ask every every time he looks at him, which is nearly every moment. the water? does he feel sick? is there disgust or longing roiling within him, or perhaps both? does he remember all the things nikolai said before, the things he said back on his ship, the good things, or is there just an echo of the lies he told him in his bedchambers? kaz's hard grip at his shoulder brings him back, nikolai's breath catching when he feels the arch of his back. he thinks he stops breathing altogether when kaz utters those two words. i'll stay. a promise. an obvious lie. no, not a lie. he'll stay. just not in the absurd way nikolai wants. he forces out a breathless smile. maybe he should hurry him out the door, put himself out of this misery. he'll be fine here alone, because he always is. he always has to be.
if you keep talking. for once, maybe for the first time ever, he doesn't want to. his lungs feel too tight, words too hard to reach right now. how much time can he really buy? he doesn't feel clever or charming in this moment, but kaz manages to pull him away from those thoughts too, lips parting, the wet press of his tongue just barely touching his fingertips. his cock pulses inside of him, heat flushing to his cheeks. there are other reasons he can't speak, now. he swallows, licking his lips. ]
Is this what Mister Brekker the barrel boss is like? [ a murmur, a hint of a smile, this one more real than the last. two fingers take the invitation to dip into his mouth, kaz's lips tightening around them. ] Giving nothing without asking for something in return? [ his mind whirs ahead of him, doomsday thoughts — would kaz have given this freely before, is it because of the things he said, is it because this is transactional now and not whatever the thing it was before? no, it's not any of that. this is still good, still them. it's just words. it's mere curiosity. he's thinking too much about it. nikolai has asked him dozens of things in the heat of the moment, made him give him voice to things he'd never say in the daylight. this is like that. kaz learned this from him.
he feels the cavern of his mouth grow wetter as he keeps his fingers lodged inside, making it hard for him to swallow. still hasn't answered the question. he moves his hips, slowly pulling back, a hard breath escaping him when he sinks inside of him again. his eyelids flutter but he doesn't let them close, transfixed with the view of kaz's face, the glisten of spit wetting the corners of his mouth. ]
You feel — [ you, an important distinction to make, something he wants kaz to know. ] Like every want I've had since you left. Every time I dreamt of you, every time I came with your name on my lips, every time I saw your face in the dark. [ he curls his fingers, leaning in to nudge kaz's jaw up with his nose, planting a kiss at the darkening bruise at his pulse. his breath pools hot along his skin as he rocks his hips forward, pushing in deep, drawing his fingers from his mouth so he can grip kaz's right thigh when he feels his leg slackening. will it be like that again? dreaming of him, missing him in the night? he gasps in a breath and exhales around a hard groan, face pressed to kaz's shoulder, the memory of his claws sinking into his flesh springing to mind. his lips trace the scars he left there, another apology heaped upon the dozens he owes him. not enough.
he finds kaz's hand in the dark, twining their fingers together, pressed tight into the spill of the sheets. his hips move in earnest now, his breath unsteady. ]
It's what I want. [ halting, breathless, but finally obedient to his earlier request. kaz asks for so little. what is he thinking? what does he really want? ] You — you're what I want.
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the proposed trade is just what nikolai thinks it is, too: a habit learned and returned, part of their ever-mounting volley.
you tugs him out of his reverie, eyes opening as if by a flash of light. the emphasis stands at odds with all he’s been told since entering ravka, though perhaps not with the unsent letters or the weeks together that came before. could spend hours untangling nikolai’s truth from lies and still be mired in brambles. words are no more real for being sweet. truthfully, kaz almost finds this harder to bear than the rejections and slights. no, it is harder. scenarios plucked from his own memory of their time apart dangling in the corner of his eye. shining faces mistaken for a wayward privateer in the daylight. dreams of nikolai haunting him when he managed to stop thinking of him incessantly. traitorous, sleepless nights in his bed atop the slat when he couldn’t contain every want beneath that ever-clattering hatch. and if it’s true for kaz, there’s a chance it’s the same for nikolai. slim, winking hope.
he groans around nikolai’s fingers. of course lantsov likes this in conjunction with everything else, close all over, in every way possible. best to ignore the thought that he likes it for the same reasons, lidded eyes absorbed by the minor shifts in nikolai’s face and the naked desire there. too distracted to fight the heat flooding his face and spilling lower or the pleasure rumbling in his chest. trust of a kind led him here, to a position where nikolai could easily hurt him, kill him and instead retraces evidence of affection, imprinted on his neck. his exhale rushes ragged as nikolai tends to it — then the marks darkening his pale shoulder. a moment’s penance before they slot together at a searing angle. doesn’t even realise that he’s whining again, lips brushing over nikolai’s temple, then the shell of his ear. all breathless instinct.
there it is again: you. the lie he wants most to be true. that feels true, sometimes, before he dissects it. ]
[ as nikolai thrusts deeper, he moans openly, clasping his hand tight in turn. that’s the same as before, despite what he was told. ] Nikolai. [ fingers twisting in the short hair at nikolai’s neck, kaz kisses him before either of them can say anymore, mouth curved helplessly. high enough that nikolai might just feel his smile in the eager push of his mouth. unlike the last time, kaz has given voice to few assurances in return despite their near-constant buzzing inside him. ]
Show me. [ the scratch of his voice edged with need, ] Make me come. [ he slips his hand lower, down the notches of nikolai’s spine until he reaches the curve of his ass and squeezes. ] Faster.
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what is he thinking? his eyes flutter open, a brief glance at kaz’s flushed face as if it might tell him something. nothing. he at least looks lost in the haze of pleasure, perhaps in a place the water can’t get to him. nikolai kisses him again, his hand snaking between them to obey kaz’s request, fingers firm around his cock. for a long moment he does nothing but drag his thumb along the tip, squeezing tight, drinking in the strangled moans pulled from kaz’s throat as he keeps the rhythm of his hips steady. if only he could have him like this every night, if their time wasn’t constantly running out. so many things he needs to say, so many things he can’t.
a cry rushes past his lips, head lowering to press to kaz’s cheek, hips buried deep within him as if he can somehow hide in him. his tongue burns with the unsaid, nearly pushed out of him with need, but he nips sharply at kaz’s earlobe instead, his hand working him over to push him over the edge, to distract. he can’t. what will kaz do with the weight of his feelings? hide them in his bruised heart, carry them across the sea back to ketterdam? there’s room. kaz’s heart is bigger than he knows, but to be prepared to hold such a thing is another matter entirely. and nikolai knows he’s not. he hasn’t taken the time to properly excavate a place yet, to set down a bedding so that there will be some place for this to go that doesn’t hurt. his heart is half shadowed, turned away from the light, a coping mechanism to protect himself from a lifetime of hurt. nikolai can’t just cut in with a sunlit blade because he wants to.
he feels the familiar tightening of kaz’s lithe body, the hitching of his breath. nikolai drags a messy kiss along his jaw, stealing a fleeting look, his tongue tracing his slick skin, a satisfied breath huffed along his throat when kaz spills wet between them. it turns quickly into a groan, kaz’s body clenching around him, drawing him into a haze of aching need that tips him over the edge. he sinks his face into kaz’s cheek, winding a hand into his hair and blindly pulling, tilting his jaw skyward as he buries a moan into his skin, a shudder seizing him as he tries to pull kaz closer still. a wispy pattern of black fragments from his eyes, down his cheekbone, trailing like a spiderweb down his skin, there and gone in a blink.
a rasp — ] Tell me what you’re thinking. Don’t shut me out. Don’t —
[ but he pushes up and the words die on his tongue, kaz’s face glassy-eyed and bloodied, his throat torn open as if by teeth. fangs. nikolai blinks and the image clears. kaz, alive and flushed, long strands of his hair gently clinging to his damp skin. he swallows, holding himself still above him, breath unsteady, heart rattling in his chest. can’t move. his eyes fall on the ring, on kaz’s glittering eyes, and he slowly reaches out to brush his hair back, his fingers trailing softly down the neat line of his jaw. wants to keep touching but the sight of his scars against kaz’s pale skin sends a nervous shiver down his spine. he moves back, scooting to the edge of the bed, his back to kaz as he steadies himself, his eyes on the pale curtains. ]
We should have gone. [ a murmur to himself, barely loud enough to be heard. in his heart he knows there’s little sense in running. you can’t outrun something that lives inside of you. ] We should have left this place.
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awed that nikolai gave him everything he wanted for once, knocked stupid by his feverish kiss, absorbed in the mess made of himself and his borrowed bed — he shouldn't be surprised by how fluent nikolai is in his wants, but there's nuance in the translation and interpretation that no one else has ever managed. it takes him too long to catch up to where nikolai sprints ahead. don’t shut me out. his brow creases as he processes the dawning horror on nikolai’s face, the shake in his singed fingers, and the tendrils cracking his cheeks. can’t find the words to explain himself, possibilities violently swinging between revealing and evasive. none prove worthy of answering the tender way nikolai pushes back his hair and looks at him like he can't believe he's there.
then, nikolai’s gone.
the sudden distance reminds him that nikolai is often lost in his own head, unsure of what parts and words are real even more so than kaz, and that he struggles to anchor himself in the present just the same. the difference is that while kaz loses himself in the same halls and rooms — and can thus find his way back — nikolai keeps building new paths. stairs that lead nowhere, doors that open into nothing. it makes him harder to find than anyone kaz has ever known, but perhaps he’s getting better at giving chase. hitched up on his elbows, he watches nikolai’s shoulders lift on uneven breaths. his words could mean various things, uttered so quietly he can’t be sure he heard them right.
still, one truth supersedes all others: there’s nowhere but here. your shadow follows you everywhere you go and grows when you do wrong. ]
[ mildly, though his voice aches from overuse. ] If I were shutting you out, [ kaz swings his legs over the other side of the bed, extending the right to test the stretch of the muscle. sore in a less pleasant way than the rest of him, but that’s to be expected. ] I’d have thrown you off the bed the second you sat down.
[ the night air cools his damp skin without nikolai’s heat guarding him against it. he supposes he isn’t letting nikolai close the way he did before, but how can he? kaz rises to his feet and limps to the washroom, the sound of running water echoing in his grand rooms. in moments, he returns wearing the clothes he’d stripped off before bed that night, trousers wrinkled and shirt unbuttoned, tie loose at his neck. leaning against the open doorframe of the connecting room, he looks more spectre than man.
for his part, nikolai looks, well, somewhere between debauched and haunted, which sparks opposing instincts in his brain. slowly, he pushes himself off the wall and draws toward where nikolai sits. ]
It’s a nice night for a walk. [ tipping his head to one side and then the other, as he considers the obstacles for that proposition. ] Provided you won’t fly away. [ a beat. ] And you don’t mind black. [ borrowing his clothes so they don’t have to venture back to nikolai's chambers or alert any watchers to their activities. it’s no journey to a secret laboratory, but it’s a sign of trust, of care, of whatever they might still have slipping under his armour. when they’re close enough to touch, a glimmer of hesitancy sneaks into his slanted gaze, blue eyes almost black in the dark. prepared for nikolai to shudder into a slouching, screeching thing, with knives up his sleeves and hands flexed. could block the first strike and only sacrifice his arm to the creature that’s not quite nikolai. or nikolai could bolt past him and slip through his fingers once again. he clears his throat. ] I’m not an easy person to… [ want, love, know in any capacity. however little or much nikolai feels for him, it’s not a simple thing to manage. he swallows, throat bobbing. the bruise on his neck twinges, muscle memory. ] But you — you’re closer than you think. [ a little intake of breath. he holds up one hand, ring balanced delicately on the tip of his finger, and then extends the other, palm open to take nikolai’s and return the gift, if he’ll allow it. ]
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something so simple as falling asleep with him feels just as impossible as when the monster used to rule his nights. now it's just the nightmares and new terrors unearthed from forgotten places in his memory. the chains are no longer necessary to keep the demon at bay, but he finds he can't sleep unbound anymore, the restraints somehow a wretched sort of comfort after years of use. mortifying, if kaz knew. sometimes he's surprised he can't look at him and simply peg his every hidden weakness. ]
I won't fly away. Unless you wanted to come with. There's only a small chance that a royal sniper would take me out. [ another flash of a smile, relaxing his posture but watching kaz carefully. he doesn't miss the hesitancy in his gaze, fleeting as it is. doesn't doubt that kaz is armed now that he's dressed. can't blame him for any of it, considering their history, considering his general instability, considering the scars kaz bears that nikolai placed on his skin. but still kaz approaches him, the glint of the sapphire on his fingertip, a confession on his tongue. nikolai holds his gaze, quiet. you're closer than you think. is he just saying that because he knows he's losing this battle against himself? no, kaz would never shame him with pity. nikolai is the only liar here.
he forces himself to uncurl his fingers, reaching out to place his hand into kaz's waiting palm. the ring is still warm when he slides it onto his finger, past the tendrils of black marking his skin. it grounds him in a way, a physical reminder to stay in this moment, his fingers wrapping around the bone of kaz's wrist as he tugs him close, arm sliding around his waist, craning his neck to press a kiss to his throat — healthy and whole, marked only with a harmless bruise. ]
You're not hard to be with. It's only hard when you're not here. [ he draws in a breath, surprised at his own words. masks it with another quick kiss, this time to his mouth, before standing, moving away to paw through kaz's neat drawer of colorless clothing. ] Black's not really my color, you know. Sort of washes me out. [ but he settles for trousers and a white shirt, rolling up the sleeves and then running his hands through his hopelessly tousled hair, eager to leave the confines of the palace, even if it's just to trail the grounds.
he shoves his boots on and doesn't bother giving kaz time to smooth his collar or make a proper knot of his tie, instead pushing his cane into one hand and lacing his fingers through the other, pulling him out the door and through the maze of darkened hallways. they exit through a little-used tea room into a glass hothouse full of exotic greenery — lush flowers spiraling from the high ceilings, pools of water surrounded by pebbled pathways, tiny trees boasting colorful blossoms and spiky fruit. the night sky twinkles through the domed glass above their heads, and nikolai turns and presents his open palm beneath kaz's nose, a butterfly with iridescent wings opening slowly in his hand. ]
Queen Tatiana — my mother — used to hold her salons here in the winter months. Doesn't get much use now. I used to catch frogs in here, and I once broke a window trying to skip rocks on the pond. [ he places the butterfly on kaz's shoulder and pulls him through the greenhouse until they reach the doors, tipping them open and letting the light spill out into the entrance of the manicured garden, the cool night air rushing to meet them. he squeezes kaz's hand, leading them outside and down the winding path surrounded by blooming flowers and marble statues, heading for the lake halfway to the little palace. he slows their pace when they step off the paved pathway and into the grass, matching kaz's stride and keeping their hands clasped. for a long moment he says nothing, and then — ] I don't know if I can do this without you. I don't know that I want to.
[ he swallows, stopping at the bank of the lake. won't push kaz to go in tonight, not after everything. instead he eases them both into the grass, his brow furrowed at he stares at the sleek water, the moon's reflection glimmering across the surface. he feels better beneath the open sky, less trapped. still lost. still leaning too hard on kaz as if he holds all the answers. he shakes his head, reaching out to gently trace the lines beneath kaz's eye with his thumb. ] I shouldn't have dragged you out here. You're exhausted. [ he presses closer to him. ] Rest. Don't listen to me. I hardly know what I'm saying.
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too distracted to dress himself efficiently, kaz half-watches as nikolai makes a mess of his things and covers sun-deprived skin with his clothes. a warm flutter in his gut at the sight. like he’s yours. but he’s not. people aren’t things; they don’t belong to anyone. it’s enough that nikolai came back (to himself, to kaz’s room). from here, their paths will inevitably diverge.
when nikolai rushes him out the door, hands clasped in what seems like an ongoing apology, he can only muster a fond sort of annoyance, lips tight from holding back a smile. although kaz has stayed in the palace twice now, he’s never before taken this route and can’t quite hide his curiosity, gaze tilted skyward in the hothouse. hard to fathom how a lowly canal rat ended up in the queen’s gardens, walking hand-in-hand with a king. more believable is nikolai’s story: a lonely little prince, causing trouble and honing his charm to win attention.
his mouth curves before he can stop it, appreciative of nikolai’s magic trick. although he looks away quickly, the bobble in his step as they leave surely gives something away. (that nikolai can eclipse his detachment with a tug of his hand). strange to be out on the open air with nikolai, then, even under the protection of darkness. with a roll of his shoulders, he settles beside nikolai, a fixed point beside him. always reaching out, gaze heavy, still holding his hand, brow furrowed again — his eyes close and open. ]
[ dryly, ] You must be pleased, if you’re trying to ruin the moment. [ invoking kaz’s tiredness or his own imagined selfishness. nikolai’s melancholy is proof that it was right to give back to him, however much guilt having anything for himself inspires. kaz bends his good knee, stretching an arm over it. nearly yawns, but then he’d have to concede a point to nikolai instead of teasing, ] That’s your tell. [ it wears different guises (melancholy, self-destruction, violence unto others), but it comes from the same place. he slides his other hand over the small of nikolai’s back to encourage him closer. a proximity he would never have thought possible. even now, it slows his processing, caught up in the way they fit together in a new configuration.
the lakeside breeze cards through his hair. ]
I’m fine. [ tired but not exhausted, only half as burnt out as he was on their journey to the find the heart and the weeks that followed. his only affliction now is a want so big it verges on need. should leave at that, content to have this night as another miraculous thing in his memory. instead, his mind pivots, thoughts clustering around another idea. i can’t do this without you. nikolai can, but he doesn’t have to. not the whole time. ]
I have a meeting with someone who’d like to kill you tomorrow. [ a beat. ] After your evening performance. [ his altogether too loud antics at mealtimes, which kaz has skipped since the second day in the palace. ] You’ve kept in shape, haven’t you? [ mild, despite the tell-tale glint in his eye. ] Still know which way the muzzle points?
[ it’s a gamble to even mention it, with nikolai’s changeable mood — and general dislike for kaz putting himself in dangerous situations — but you can’t win the day without taking strategic risks. ]
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but kaz is nudging him closer, a small marvel amidst the wreckage he's created of everything else. somehow, he hasn't lost this. not yet. he doesn't want to think of how kaz will leave him soon, how he squandered so much of their time together, but all his thoughts seem circular these days, leading him down the same tangled paths, pushing him against the same old wounds. i'm fine, words passed between them so often they've become all but meaningless. he doesn't remember the last time he felt fine. impossible that kaz has felt fine at any point in the duration of his stay in the grand palace. his thumb trails briefly down his cheek, and he's seconds from kissing him when kaz speaks again, this time fully drawing his attention. ]
Is it someone from my drawings? Those are who you were meant to find. [ stated mildly enough, but there's a nearly indiscernible edge to his tone that he knows most people would miss. people who aren't kaz brekker. he certainly wouldn't put it past him to concoct his own schemes to run circles around them all without any of them being the wiser. but he also doesn't trust that kaz wouldn't put a bullet in the brain of any of the people clamoring for his head — but forbidding kaz to do anything would be like telling a spider not to be innately disturbing.
he flicks open the top few buttons of his shirt — kaz's shirt — and points out a small, star-shaped scar directly above his heart, too perfectly clean to be anything but unnatural. ] I stabbed myself in the heart once. It's a very long, strange story that likely should have killed me, but the point is I'm starting to believe I can't actually die, so you should feel perfectly safe handing me a pair of guns tomorrow. And I do want two. The real question is — [ he nuzzles at his throat, his hand slipping beneath the hem of kaz's shirt to graze at his skin. ] Will I have to stop you from doing anything rash? I won't have you killing our subjects.
[ he presses a kiss beneath his ear to soften his words, the side unmarred by his bruises, but there's steel there, too. his eyes flutter open, lashes brushing his skin. ] What's your game, Brekker?
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