[ nikolai’s touch edges from hesitant to purposeful without brushing against wanting, a measured act that seeks something — damage, kaz realises. lucky that’s there none to find, his hand and leg panging beneath their wrappings. the tension elongates nikolai’s neck under his hand, throat bobbing with an unspoken trepidation. has the demon already forgotten their deal? not quite, he decides. ]
No. [ didn’t do more, didn’t kiss him. an answer both quick and firm. kaz is the one at fault for that development, taking the mark at his throat and tongue laving over his palm as signs of wanting. a universal weakness, it seems, unless the demon is unique among its kind, inheriting nikolai’s loneliness. in calculating the risks, kaz maximised his chances of self-preservation. well, he advanced his position on the board. perhaps he also tested a new mode of influence, all while giving into a reckless desire for all of nikolai.
rather than explain that, he cuts other truths loose. ]
You bargained with me. [ a one-fingered, rolling gesture. ] As an intermediary for bargaining with yourself. [ you’re the lever. leaning forward, he sets his hand higher on nikolai’s thigh and squeezes, an attempt at assurance. best not to overdo skin-to-skin taction after all nikolai faced yesterday. ] You threatened me. [ one brow arches. ] Unconvincingly, for what it’s worth. [ just saying. a deep breath, gaze flicking down to their fragile grip. ] And you fed from my hand. [ something nikolai will remember, if he hasn’t already, fixating on his bandaged palm like a waypoint. that flash of brilliant green was him, kaz knows it. he swings his eyes up again, swallowing nikolai’s obvious pain. it’s the least he can do. you’ll only make this worse for him now. saints, he knows that. ]
Because you’re not getting better, either. [ for a moment, his eyes are as clear (and visibly pained) as nikolai’s, but kaz blinks it away. surely, nikolai can’t deny a concern that mirrors his own. ] You’re starving — [ his breath catches, and he admonishes himself for it. ] Dying. And death makes all men desperate. [ almost says mad, but nikolai already knows as much. he continues with striking conviction, ] If you want to leave Ketterdam tomorrow, you need to feed tonight. [ a slight shake of his head. ] You can’t be near anyone else until you do. [ let alone caged with them on a ship for weeks. ] I’d wager that half the reason I’m alive is because I’m the one who fed you before.
[ the demon must remember that. call it animal instincts or a deeper understanding of what kaz brekker will do for his people. no need to mention invoking that blood-soaked memory by tipping his hand willingly into the very jaws that could kill him. ] The other half’s down to your piss-poor taste — which is catching. [ whatever made nikolai tenderly take his hand and supplanted bite with kiss is the same force that animates his recurring nightmares. affection seems generous. attachment could be the word. all synonyms for leverage. ]
[ kaz's answer comes quickly, too firm for nikolai to want to believe it to be a lie. he searches his eyes and finds no cause to question it, then startles when presented with other truths harder to parse through. a bargain. threats. he fed from his hand, just as he suspected, a rush of guilt seeping through the cracks in his chest. but kaz seems no more ill than before, so perhaps the monster did show mercy, a grain of questionable truth in kaz's absurd theory. ]
I'm not dying. That's ridiculous. [ he says it as if stating the weather, sidestepping his deteriorating mental condition. he's always had ups and downs. this is no different. but if he and the beast are inexorably linked now, then starving the thing will only serve to damage his own self. he thinks to his more frequent slips, the lost time, the moments he's sure he's standing in his own body but uncertain of whose thoughts are crowding his mind. at any moment he could once again lose the ability to touch kaz. doesn't even know how or why he has it back.
his gaze swings up again, this time hard, chafing immediately at what sounds like an order. kaz follows it with unwelcome logic before nikolai can protest, his words held on his tongue as he exhales a tense breath instead. his fingers rub gently over kaz's knuckles, his cold hand finally warming marginally beneath nikolai's touch. ]
You said it bargained with you. For what? [ he lifts his chin, leaning back in his chair. ] To be fed, no doubt. That means starving it is working. So let it die, Brekker. [ the chair scrapes against the floor as he stands suddenly, their clasped grip gently slipping away. he turns back to the kitchen and resumes making a mess of the counter — puffs of flour, eggshells cracked and discarded, sugar licked from his thumb — his expression schooled back into one of morning cheer. ] I won't die with it. Do you want some brandy in your coffee?
[ he brings over a bottle and sets it down beside the writing case, flashing a boyish smile. ] We'll bring the chains aboard the ship. Everything will be fine. Let me handle this.
[ incredulity knocks kaz’s mask askew. his mouth falls open and snaps shut in seconds. nikolai is stubborn, foolish and reckless with himself — but the lives of others have always taken precedence over his wants. an act that jeopardises the crew — ]
The same chains that saved my leg from your claws. [ bitten out before he can stop himself, mug rattling the table. his teeth graze his lower lip, a habit that has the unfortunate byproduct of recalling last night’s bloody kiss. kaz ducks his head and scrubs his face, recomposing himself by force. ] I didn’t — [ mean it, but he did, in this instance. his innate temper reacts poorly with nikolai’s contrived cheeriness, like combining two of wylan’s volatile concoctions. he tilts back in his chair and exhales, gripping the lip of the table. strange, to see his pale flesh stark against the wood. ungloved, unguarded. he pulls the robe tighter. ]
That wasn't your fault. [ fixing nikolai with a glare, he drags a hand through his hair hard enough to disturb its clean lines. ] But what do you think this [ gesturing between them. ] is? [ a temporary reprieve. the vital and ever-dwindling time they have to plan their next move. ] A date? [ boozy coffee and homemade breakfast. comforts that make men soft. his heart flutters, but there’s nowhere for it to go. ] No, what do you think happened last night? [ a quick breath. ] That the demon approached me and asked, politely, if I would consider feeding it merchlings. But — not to worry — a little blood, a bite and a kiss were enough to sate it forevermore. [ he splays his hands, mimicking the prestige of a magic trick. either he managed to comfort nikolai too much for the first time in his life, or this is denial as a means of survival. ]
It demanded to be fed, so I bartered for time, Nikolai. [ eyes fierce until he tears them away, looking askance. ] One night of rest. One day of peace. [ for you. kaz hardly slept, plagued by the waters that nearly drowned them; the blood already taken and still to be spilled. he reaches for the brandy and pours the lot in his coffee. ] That’s all this is.
[ in the event they renege this deal, kaz is more worried for nikolai than himself, but he can’t rule out retaliations. no amount of comorbid care in nikolai’s split self will keep the demon from making its displeasure known. the deal is the deal. breaking it begets consequences. ]
[ he's prepared for a rebuttal, ready to keep his stubborn smile in place and argue his way out of whatever foolishness kaz has gotten himself into with his more unsavory half, but he isn't prepared for — that. the sudden swing of the truth, wielded in true kaz brekker form. too quick to anticipate, too sudden, too unexpected. like a thief. he just barely stops himself from flinching. fails to keep the flash of hurt from his eyes.
but it's a well-deserved wounding, perhaps made stronger by the unceasing pain kaz has had to endure since that moment in the cellar. the shroud seems to clear for a moment, a cacophony of violent carnage just out of reach before it goes hazy again, his mind clearing. this hurt is crystalline, bright, sharp as a blade of grisha steel. it's familiar. kaz chafes against these comforts, he knows it, and yet he still endeavors to give them to him in whatever brief moments he can steal away from the constant press of chaos around them. he deserves them, deserves to know what it's like to wake in the morning and not think of death. but maybe he's fumbling this at every turn because he hardly knows the feeling himself. ]
Is it so terrible — [ he exhales softly, his smile pained as if it costs him to keep it there. holding out his cup for kaz to tip the bottle of brandy into his own coffee, ] To pretend for a minute? An hour? You said you bartered for time, so what will you do with it?
[ he looks at him for a moment longer before turning away, flicking a few drops of water into a hot pan and watching them sizzle. presently, the room fills with the aroma of browned sugar as he stacks hot pastries high onto a plate. his appetite has vanished with this conversation, replaced with the dread of knowing he'll have to feed before he boards his ship. merchlings. it's unthinkable that the monster would even suggest such a thing. he doesn't have it in him to inquire on kaz's reaction. he has to believe that kaz knows it's an altogether untenable notion, that nikolai would rather face whatever horrors the monster would inflict upon him than take another life in such a way.
returning to the table feels like a joyless, mechanical task, setting down the blini drizzled with honey and heaped with fresh fruit, but he forces himself to remain calmly composed, unwilling to give in to despair. that’s all this is. a singular day. if the events of last night hadn’t transpired, if the monster hadn’t shown its face and made its demands known, kaz likely wouldn’t have even stayed. but he said he would. nikolai shakes the thought away as a bout of childish whimsy. he is not a child and kaz owes him nothing. not even after what he’d said over the water last night — and what he’d failed to say in return. ]
Stay, if you’d like. But don’t feel as if you must. Not for my sake. [ he perches on the edge of the table and takes a generous swig of coffee, regarding kaz above the rim of his mug. his cheeks are flushed from the heat of the kitchen. ] Do finish that letter, though. If you need me to feed the monster tonight, then I will. But you can’t be in the room. And we’re leaving in the morning.
[ he stands, turns, meaning to walk away. he’s still shirtless, after all, the blood cleaned up but his wounds still bare, and he’s hardly interested in any argument kaz might presently broach, but something makes him turn back around, his glib demeanor replaced with something flinty. the type of rage sitting hot in his chest isn’t the sort for lashing out, instead leaving him weak with a wretched fear as he leans down, his scarred hand pressed flat to the table, his hazel eyes wild with barely contained emotion. ]
Why didn’t you stop it? [ his voice is a hoarse whisper, his brows pulled taut. ] Do you really mean to tell me that of all the times you didn’t have a pistol or a damned blade hidden up your sleeve — that the monster showed up and threatened you and you chose words instead of force? What the hell were you thinking, Brekker? How could you be so fucking reckless? That thing is not me. It’s only a matter of time before it hurts you in a way that you haven’t even thought about. [ an unsteady breath, his eyes burning with anguish — ] You cannot be afraid to hurt me, because it is not afraid to hurt you.
[ nikolai has the right of their circumstances, if not the exact events of the night. the realisation would have unbalanced kaz, were he not seated. how could he be so reckless, so foolish? shame rises white-hot inside him. he let his guard down and for what — love? a one-sided ailment, clouding his judgement. more than anything, he wants to stand and leave, to be left alone after all the rattling closeness endured. a secondary desire scorches his insides: to return the damage. he dampens it as best as he can, eyes fixed on a blank stretch of wall. ]
If it’s not you, then you weren’t there. [ voice suddenly small. he was left to face a grisha demon on his own. his shoulders lift and settle, trying to work through that hateful weakness. there hasn’t been anyone to protect him since jordie’s terminal failure. to hope someone else would undertake that rotten work is worse than naivety — it's damnation. expelling a breath, kaz manges to lift his tone back to its usual scrape. ] What trick could I have up my sleeve? [ a sideways glance, hurt glinting, there and gone. ] In your room, your clothes, your bed. [ those are odds are stacked against him before he accounts for his affliction and aggravated injuries. nikolai told him it was safe to rest, but you’re the pathetic skiv who listened. he drags his thumbnail up his throat, retracing the path taken to his tender bruise. that’s the cost of pretending — of playing at romantic dates like last night and this morning. he wasn’t meant to have these things.
as if in divine punishment for his thoughts (or because he hasn't eaten since before he was violently ill and tapped for blood), his stomach growls. a perfect capper for this ridiculous affair. it belatedly occurs to him that nikolai hasn’t made himself any food after all that trouble. he cuts into his blini, lavish in the way all things nikolai tries to give him are, but only nudges it around his plate. it reminds him of how jordie would always return with hot chocolate, regardless of whether they could afford it. ]
I’m staying. [ he finally tips a meagre splash of brandy into nikolai’s coffee and no more, setting it aside. ] I do need you. [ a statement kaz fights to let hang, multiple meanings held inside it. as clever as he is, he can’t face the demon alone. why would nikolai think, even for a second, that he could? his stomach sinks. because he believes in you. he almost takes nikolai’s hand, his bandaged palm resting beside nikolai’s scarred fingers on the table. it was nikolai who pulled away last — who said he can’t take what kaz has never dared offer to anyone else. that should be the end of his heartsicknesses. ]
Will you join me for breakfast? [ finally, he takes a bite. a difficult to place expression crosses his face, still turned away. another bite, and he turns his head, jaw softening. ] Please. [ steady hands carve another neat square and skewer it, offering it to nikolai. ] I’d like to spend this time with you, without pretending. [ since nikolai asked, even if the question was intended rhetorically. ] To be near you, if you’ll allow it. [ how many times can nikolai reject that particular desire without snuffing it? ] To tend your wounds, as soon as we’re done here. [ his teeth snag the inside of his cheek, skin raw and tingling. ] To keep my promise to share what happened last night, so that we can devise a plan to deal with the fallout together — rather than wait for another of your lodger’s surprise negotiations. [ as lovely as being held down and having jagged fangs at his throat has been, there’s an argument to be made for alternative arrangements. normally, kaz wouldn’t say twice is a pattern, but the familiar ache in his arm from being pinned back and a fresh bruise in the same place marked the first time are difficult data to dismiss, however anecdotal. ] And you?
[ what does nikolai lantsov want? somehow, kaz doubts he has an answer. ]
[ the world seems to stop in that moment, the sunlight and warm coffee and the sweet aroma in the air abruptly turning to ash. there are so few times that kaz allows anyone to see his hurts. they're alike in that way, kaz donning a hard mask while nikolai opts for a soft, more palatable one — but they're masks all the same, armor to hide the truth of what lies beneath. nikolai catches a glimmer of the wound, the tenuous thinning of his voice abraded by fear. and it's worse than any insult kaz could hurl at him, worse than if kaz would have matched his anger with his own and responded with the violence he keeps coiled in his muscles. he may as well have slipped a blade between his ribs.
he sees his mistake now. all of this. the way the sunlight touches kaz's bare skin, unguarded. the way this could be a scene from any of the countless novels he's read, silly fictions from his youth. the way he's built this fabrication of a home when the truth sits just beneath every breath he takes, that he doesn't have one anymore. and he'd brought kaz here with promises he couldn't keep. a single night of rest, of safety. a lie. there are no safe places anymore.
wordlessly, he sinks back down into the seat beside him. tries to think. he said he would make this right. he has to find a way. kaz speaks again, and nikolai looks at him, unsure if it's tender relief or an awful chafing misery he feels at his words. maybe a bit of both. he doesn't know if he should believe them, because it's becoming increasingly clear that kaz would be much better off far away from here — perhaps a part of him would be more lost because of it, but the whole of him would be, at the very least, alive. isn't that what matters? i do need you is simply not true. he only thinks it is. kaz had been better off before he’d ever tended to his wounds on his ship all that time ago. hadn’t he?
nikolai leans forward, ignoring the offered fork, his eyes flickering over the bruise once more. then he rests his forehead against kaz’s shoulder, a heavy sigh going out of him as his eyes slip closed, all his strength threatening to bleed out. for a long, quiet moment he allows himself this, his hands coming up to slide gently along the sharp planes of kaz’s hips, feeling the familiar lines of his body through the fabric of his robe, careful of his wounds. he smells like blood and salt, and after another slow breath, another thought: he smells like the water, which perhaps he resents, but nikolai presses his lips to his collarbone for the briefest of moments, the gentlest of touches, and tastes the sea.
when he pulls back, the boyish softness from his eyes has gone, replaced with the sharp focus of a man who once commanded armies, who held a nation together by ingenuity and the force of his own will. a man familiar with setting aside his own wants, of going without comfort, of remaining separate out of necessity. kaz is a man, and he is a monster, and he would do well to remember that. the grin he offers is the fox’s grin, not the sweet, earnest smile that kaz has pulled out of him so many times before. ]
No more pretending, then. [ not said unkindly, but it’s firm, resolute, as if he’s made up his mind about something without consulting kaz in the process. his demeanor turns serious. ] I put you in danger for my own selfish whims. I will not ask forgiveness for that. I will endeavor to earn it instead. But know that I’m sorry that I left you to face the worst parts of me alone and unarmed.
You said there’s more. So tell me what happened. [ he takes a breath, then draws kaz’s injured leg into his lap, elevating it gently. this isn’t prolonging the fantasy — it’s simply practical. when he settles his hand carefully against his thigh, he’s surprised to find the beat of his pulse less jarring than expected, more like a gentle comfort. ] This time is yours, Brekker. You earned it with your life. I would give you anything you asked.
[ nikolai falls into him, and kaz accommodates the inevitable, necessary collapse without satisfaction. leaning into him is his only means of communicating appreciation and understanding. a slight hitch chases nikolai’s lips brushing his skin. it’s surprising that any tendernesss can penetrate their latest tangle. as foolish as it is, kaz has rarely wanted to kiss nikolai more than now. something that isn’t allowed, after where his mouth has been. shouldn’t be permitted to touch something this good in the first place, and still he does, covering nikolai’s hand on his thigh. a man trapped within his own mind, body out of his control. it’s a miracle that he’s still here, let alone beside kaz brekker. ]
[ mildly, ] I doubt that. [ impossible, that he earned his life back, when he promised things he has no right to offer. improbable, that nikolai would give him anything he asked. having witnessed how the monster feeds and the toll it enacts on his person, kaz sees why nikolai abhors sating it at all. while the slight quirk of kaz’s mouth hints at acceptance, shrewd eyes watch for tells. he hasn’t seen that grin on nikolai’s face since it caught the sunlight on the bow of his ship. the too-clever fox, not to be trusted. ] All I did was dirty my hands. [ in an instant, he has his composure rebalanced on a dagger's edge. his face hardens, jaw set in defiance. ]
It wants to feed every seven days. [ human flesh. a nonstarter that would renew nikolai’s spiralling. his present steadiness may be yet another mask, worn for kaz’s benefit. he reaches out to brush nikolai’s hair behind his ear, keenly aware that another wedge may be driven between them in moments. ] It said it took everything from you. [ his hand falls away. even the key details disclosed thus far must unsettle nikolai, with how they ascribe an independent voice to the demon. ] Your sleep, your clarity in waking life — [ a tight breath. ] Me. [ he lifts his coffee to his mouth and, much to his relief, the brandy burns his throat. ] Every time I glimpsed it before, it tried to push me away from you. I thought it might wish to isolate you… Then I wondered if it could share your desire to protect me through distance. [ he purses his mouth. another sip, and he places the mug on the table gingerly. ] In the cellar, it asked who marked me on the job. [ protective per his theory — or possessive? ] Last night, it had me. [ by the throat, as good as dead. ] But it only left the same bruise as before. [ a faint flush, high in his cheeks. ] And it targeted my hand, where I was already injured. [ to exploit a vulnerability or minimise the damage? his heartbeat ratchets suddenly, the truth locked behind his teeth. ]
It said I was your lever, which would mean I'm also its lever, if used correctly. [ a final hesitation, blinked away. ] The kiss was my hunch. [ an all-or-nothing bet, bloodying his mouth to heighten the offer and the stakes. ] It worked. [ because all it did was kiss and kiss and kiss him. like nikolai. licking the blood from his mouth, teeth sharp and voice serrated. won't offer an apology for inviting this dangerous intimacy. the demon has been weaponising closeness since their first encounter (leaving him paralysed by the tongue at his throat, limbs locked and hand gouged aboard the volkvolny). until yesterday, kaz hadn’t been able to harness that momentum. ] But — [ the wounded noise on nikolai’s lips echoes in his skull. the question he could barely ask lingering since it was stuttered. ] I’m sorry I did that to you, Nikolai. [ there are some secrets even kaz brekker can’t keep. nikolai deserves to know that he's the worst sort of liar and thief, wielding anything he can pick up and carry. ]
[ his gaze softens, affection hopelessly bleeding through. perhaps kaz doesn't fully grasp the magnitude of what he does time and again, dragging him out of the dark, out of the stuff of his nightmares, both waking and not. only zoya has done that for him, been strong enough to shoulder his burdens and stand by his side. it's not something he takes lightly and it's not something he will ever, ever forget. ]
You doubt it because it's the easy way out — [ a quirked brow, a glint in his eye, ] For someone who still hasn't mastered asking for the wants you keep hidden in your heart. [ not to be trusted, indeed. but it's easier — less painful — to think of it in these terms, as a muscle to be stretched and tested than the things he wishes they could have if they were ordinary men. something to be learned instead of something to be given. ] And I don't mean a request for nearness or a shared breakfast. I mean the things you think about when you're alone.
[ he doesn't look away when kaz continues, the easy set of his jaw tightening just slightly as his mind races at the implications of his words. every seven days. he almost laughs aloud at the thought, his fingers rubbing pensively at the morning stubble at his chin. his breath quivers for a brief moment when kaz's careful fingers curl behind his ear. it took everything from you. very nearly so. he touches kaz's bandaged leg, letting his fingers linger. it's unsettling to hear that there's so much shared between kaz and the monster, that it has its own thoughts on kaz brekker, its own feelings and desires. he's just a lever, nothing more. and yet it had kissed him back, that much he's certain of, because of the way he'd woken with the shock of kaz's lips against his. ]
Don't. Don't apologize for it. [ he tilts his head, gesturing to the plate. it'll get cold if kaz doesn't eat, and he needs his strength, having drained his blood into the water, onto the sheets, down the monster's throat — his throat. his stomach turns, and he reaches for the brandy kaz had been rather ungenerous with, pouring a hefty splash into his nearly empty cup. ] I may have a questionable sense of honor, but the monster has none at all. Thinking of me when you're attempting to strategize against it will only serve to hinder you. We both know you're far too clever for that.
[ he reaches into the writing case for a worn, folded map, smoothing it out onto the table, one blackened fingertip tracing a path from ketterdam to djerholm. ] You say it wishes to feed every seven days, but it’s, frankly, highly improbable that we’ll reach a weekly port, considering Kerch is located conveniently in the middle of nowhere. That is to say, impossible. We’ll make several stops — I’ll ask Ehri for passage into Shu Han so we can replenish our supplies, and then we’ll stop several more times along the western coast of Ravka. [ his heart gives an uncomfortable little thump at the thought of seeing zoya again. of course she would come. wouldn’t she? ] So, if we’re seriously considering entertaining this ludicrous request at all, that means we’ll have to store an adorable little family of deer or such ilk in cargo, preferably alive, which is an unambiguously deplorable idea, or we allow the monster the freedom to leave the ship to hunt on its own. Which is the only worse idea than bringing a noisome and foul-smelling farm onto my ship.
That begs the question — [ he looks up again, still parsing through the glut of information about the night prior. the monster left only the same bruises on kaz, exploited an existing injury instead of creating a new one — a courtesy not extended to his own body. if the thing has somehow developed some sort of hateful fondness for brekker, if indeed he’s correct and there is something to be leveraged here… they can hardly afford not to use it. and the thought leaves this rather exquisite brandy turning sour on his tongue. ] If I ignore this hefty demand, what are the consequences? Did it give you an ultimatum? [ he pinches the bridge of his nose, heaving out a sigh. ] You may have to barter again. [ then, softer, regret in his voice, ] Prepared, this time.
[ as nikolai’s focus softens, kaz tenses and holds his gaze. am i your lever? it’s as hard to believe as the words nikolai gifts now, which kaz categorises as well-intentioned but proven untrue. how many things has kaz asked for that nikolai refused to give him? his only request in fjerda had been that nikolai fight to save himself rather than give in to immolation. in his bedroom, he’d asked nikolai to stay after the demon first intruded on them. a righteous desertion, maybe, for what he did to nikolai in ravka. ]
[ arching his brows, ] Careful, Lantsov. [ the things he’s been thinking about on his own may very well have led them here. if nothing else, sharing those desires with nikolai worsened the fractures in the delusion that was holding him together. ] If I repeat my wants, you’ll have to drown yourself in the sink. [ instead of diving into the depths. in all matters related to the demon, nikolai has been forgiven without second thought. in the matter of his twice-fold rejection last night, however — ] I’d hold you under myself, but you’d enjoy it too much. [ his mouth tugs slightly downward, not allowed to express the extent of his displeasure. ]
[ the sun rises higher in the sky, afternoon light washing over them. when nikolai finally answers him, he stills. don’t apologise. a long-held breath escapes him. he keeps himself from saying the instinctive, wanting response, hard not to think of you. kaz thinks of nikolai whether or not he has him in hand, and certainly with his mouth pressed against his, even as every hungry push hit at an unfamiliar angle. he resumes nudging his food around the plate, listening but not looking until nikolai slides the map into his peripheral vision.
despite their miserable circumstances, it’s thrilling to have this part of nikolai back: his brilliant mind set to an impossible puzzle. the stops range from interesting — ehri and her beautiful treasury — to unpleasant — zoya and her thunderous disappointment. a couple bites of his breakfast save him from thoughtless contributions. if it were his decision, kaz would drag nikolai’s dinner on board and sail non-stop to finish this. it isn’t. it can’t be, given the uniquely personal terrors involved (and how reluctant nikolai has been to lift himself out of stagnation to act until now, besides).
at the prospect of scheming, his eyes brighten. his gaze meets nikolai’s once again, assessing his seriousness. after a pause, he shrugs into an off-handed answer. ]
Something about us both dying horribly. [ to be expected of the demon, and of himself, frankly. thieves like him never die peacefully. he speaks slowly, each word measured and selected. ] If you feed tonight, that’s a good-faith offering. Proof you can be swayed — and that I can be trusted. [ strengthening the link between kaz brekker and survival. ] That buys us at least seven days. [ the timing beyond that will prove tricky, especially when they’re reneging the other notable condition of the deal. human flesh. ] The demon wants to be useful — the way it was to you in the war — and, perhaps, not to be alone, but food is the only currency that we know it understands. [ he rests his chin on his hand, elbow propped on the table. ] If we’re withholding it, even out of necessity — we need to sweeten the deal. [ a pointed look seems to hint that he knows nikolai won’t like any of the plans that occur to him. ] Let it feed on me, the way it did last night, until we find a better solution.
[ nikolai will want this to be temporary, if he can stomach it at all. what else does kaz brekker have to offer? a strange closeness? a kind of understanding of the demon’s role? another kiss? all juvenile, compared to a basic need delivered in an appealing fashion. ]
[ there's the matter of last night — well before the unsavory circumstances that took place in his bed — still left untended. a lock nikolai stubbornly picked but couldn't altogether open, drowning in the vastness of what he feels for kaz brekker and now more fearful than before to give voice to the burning pit of need smoldering in a chamber of his heart. he offers a grim sort of half-smile at kaz’s ungracious attempt at a joke — not a joke, not really — willing his heart to cease the anxious battering of his chest. ]
That’s not what I meant. I wanted you to ask for a way in which I could still be useful to you. [ a quiet sigh, as he pulls a hand through his hair and rests his knuckles against his mouth, looking at him steadily. ] I kissed you, rather unwisely, there in the water. [ kaz should remember. then again, he’s not sure what the recollection of the night looks like in kaz’s feverish thoughts, dragged into his worst nightmares once again. guilt sears his lungs like a bitingly cold breath of air. ] I didn’t try to get away from you because of what you said. The demon tried to take over as soon as I touched you. [ with some effort, he relaxes his demeanor, his brow quirking as he swiftly glosses over the obvious — that he might’ve died if kaz hadn’t been able to brave the depths and fish him out. none of it would’ve happened at all if he hadn’t foolishly tried to indulge in his hopeless fantasies again and again. ] Maybe the monster does like you.
[ but still he doesn’t say it, those words that had come spilling out of kaz last night as if contained for too long. can’t or won’t or a combination of both. there’s no sense in pretending anything good can come out of it, no sense in dwelling on something that they’re not meant to have. the monster will take everything. this short reprieve is only because kaz gave it something — a ridiculous promise, sealed in blood. he studies kaz from the corner of his eye, watches him pick at his food and shift his expression as they go through their options. something feels off, still, as if he’s missing a piece of this picture. for all his protests, they can bring livestock onto the ship. they’d have to be careful, come up with a story, limit access to the hold. it would be far from ideal, a messy, gruesome affair, but one that they could, possibly, pull off. and kaz has never been one to balk from a little mess.
nikolai’s gaze sharpens, his mind whirring. dying horribly is as vague as it gets, and he doubts the monster used those words. he listens in silence, trying to pick through what he’s not saying, trying to understand why it isn’t enough to lock nikolai in the cellar of the safe house and toss him some hapless animal to devour in the dark — and then kaz says it, and the sudden truth rushes through him like a current of zoya’s lightning.
he doesn’t want to believe it. doesn’t believe it for a long moment, as silence falls between them with the force of a thunderclap, but no other words come, and nikolai can conjure no other reasonable explanations now that he’s stumbled upon the only one that makes sense. we need to sweeten the deal. why, if they’re giving the monster the same thing that’s always satisfied it until now? because it’s no longer satisfied with creatures from the wilderness. it has always had a taste for human flesh. that’s where this nightmare began all those years ago, and he simply fooled himself into thinking he could escape this unending refrain. ]
It doesn’t want livestock anymore. Does it? [ he pins kaz with a hard gaze, calm only from years of experience with not losing his head every time a part of the sky comes crashing down on him. he lied to you. is it a lie to omit the truth, perhaps to spare his feelings, or more likely because kaz thought he couldn’t handle it? yes. there’s an ocean he leaves unsaid, sudden hurt swimming in his flinty gaze, that kaz would leave him to wonder about any of this when his grasp of these moments is tenuous at best, his memories constantly shifting and ever unreliable. this is why they’re having this conversation at all, that it isn’t just a simple matter of demanding that nikolai feed like a damned dog to keep the monster sated — in true kaz brekker form — why kaz has slowly but surely steered them here, to this end.
he chokes down his ire, his expression splintering to thorns, angry with kaz in this particular way perhaps for the very first time. a feat, considering how maddening he can be. ]
I don’t like to be led. [ his voice low, hard. impossible to keep the tremor out, from rage or fear or hurt, he doesn’t know which. the monster wants humans. that knowledge in itself is shattering. he stands abruptly from the table, careful not to jostle kaz’s leg, unable to stand another moment of this farce. leaving kaz without another word, he returns to his bedroom and tries to wrangle control of his racing thoughts, his eyes falling to the bloodied sheets. without thinking, he begins to strip the bed bare, tossing the soiled linens to the floor. there’s an unbearable pressure in his chest, panic trying to spring free at the brand new thoughts crowding his mind — death, the soft give of flesh, and above all kaz’s lips against his, warm and slick with his blood. ]
[ should have predicted this fight, since it’s been going on for some time. nikolai’s desire to be useful at odds with kaz’s desire not to use him. the explanation only partially contextualises his first rejection (i can’t bear this, left untended). the second denial, in the quiet of the ship, hurt more than the last: a clear-eyed wish to be alone, reinforced by nikolai’s abrupt exit now. he fights his instinct to give chase without question, instead disposing of his picked-at breakfast. once again, kaz has failed to reach nikolai lantsov the way he intended.
i don’t want to be led recurs in his mind. you don’t want to helped he counters to himself. resolve strengthening, kaz stands to tidy the mess nikolai left behind and ignores the pain in his leg. it’s almost grounding, a new constant in his life. or the only one you’ve ever known. in truth, he lacked a grand plan in this conversation, adjusting to the changes of the tide. nikolai refused to feed every seven days, so he cut to an alternative — one that might close the weeks spent aboard the ship for his sake. but you’re kaz brekker, always scheming and plotting, with trick after trick up your sleeve. he should be glad that even nikolai believes the myth. if his lies keep nikolai from applying tenderness to his wounds or trying to kiss him out of obligation (a desire to be useful, not wanted, the way kaz wants and wants wants), it’s for the best. kaz need only urge him to fjerda and then back to ravka, where he belongs, with warmer hands and sweeter mouths to welcome him.
annoyance piqued, kaz abandons his efforts to search for his clothes from last night, finding his own shirt, wrinkled but still wearable, and some trousers of nikolai’s. by the time he drags himself to nikolai’s room, cane thudding all the way, he appears presentable.
when nikolai fails to acknowledge his entrance, still bent over the bed, kaz clears his throat. ]
The way you wish to be useful to me… [ kissing him, touching him, tending his wounds and unlocking the desires kept hidden for so long. he freezes inside the entryway, one hand on the doorframe and the other on his cane. for a long moment, his next words jumble in his mind, and he hangs his head. ] I don’t want that without the rest. [ a hitch in his throat. ] I can’t. [ an unmatched ache and sudden relief collide as he finally says it. having nikolai the way he offers, all while sentiment fills his heart, his lungs, his throat — it’s like drowning. ] I can do anything else. [ he can be the monster or the thing on which it feeds. a resource to be used, clever as the devil. a companion, if nikolai still desires his poison tongue. a little too quick (too desperate), then — ] I’m not going anywhere. [ staying, just not in his arms, in his bed. maybe this will be better for nikolai, too, no longer worrying about how kaz fits, when it’s clear there’s no place for him. ]
For what it’s worth, I’d rather cart an entire farm across the sea than subject you to the demon’s desire for human flesh. [ though he’s loathe to admit it, his omissions make him guilty of the very charges he levelled against nikolai yesterday: lying out of a desire to protect the person he cares for and foolishly facing the thing in the dark on his own. ] But you lead. I’ll follow.
[ wont to disappear without nikolai’s acknowledgment, he waits for a response. ]
[ he expects kaz to go. maybe a part of him wants that hurt once more, an earned punishment for everything he and the monster have put kaz through. his failures are stacked to the heavens at this point, and his anger has nowhere to go. kaz hid this for a reason — he can already feel the tremors in his fingertips, the ashen memories of all that took place in ravka. a king, trusted and beloved no longer, turning on his people. he buried this deep upon coming here, filling his days with other preoccupations, masquerading as a man on his way to some sort of atonement. but there is no forgiveness for a thing like this, just like dominik’s death, just like his crimes during the war, just like what the monster might do to kaz if he allows it to feed on him as he suggests.
kaz appears in the doorway then — not gone, keeping his promise — and a gristly image superimposes atop his form. bloodsoaked, his skin whiter than a ghost, eyes empty. not the demon’s doing, just nikolai’s imagination running towards the worst possible end. he shuts his eyes, a visible tremor going through him as he recoils, his fingers tightening as he yanks the goose down pillows from the bed and adds them to the bloodied heap on the floor.
kaz speaks before he can tell him to leave, nikolai’s spine stiffening as if he wants to turn and go to him. the ache in his words is palpable, the hitch in his breath sending a painful pang through nikolai’s chest. the same pressure from the night before builds now, the urge to say something right, to tell him the truth of what grows inside of him. tell him you love him. he sags suddenly, his hands splayed on the bare mattress, stark black against soft white. ]
You must think I don’t want this. Us. [ he despises the weakness in his voice, the way it’s kaz who has been left time and time again to face the horrors of the monster alone while nikolai can’t get these simple words out. ] You. [ he’s silent again, his heart trying to escape his chest, fingers slowly curling into the mattress. what if he does feed and this compromise is not enough? what if the monster takes back what it thinks it’s owed — everything — and he finds he can no longer touch kaz until he gives in and takes a human life? then he will have squandered this time away for nothing, time he’s not sure will ever come again — just like those days in os alta, watching kaz like a phantom, a slow disappearing act right before his eyes.
he bridges the distance then, looking every bit a madman — still shirtless, his wounds only half tended to, unkempt hair falling into his wild eyes. he sounds breathless when he speaks, as if he’s crossed miles instead of a few steps, staring at kaz balanced in his doorway. there’s no hesitation when he reaches out this time, his hands cradling his face so he can look into his eyes, the rush of anguish that fills his chest entirely his own. ]
Do you think that I can do anything with you and not feel the rest? [ he doesn’t want the answer. he knows he placed those doubts in kaz’s head himself despite wanting so badly to guard his heart. ] That I could ever touch you, kiss you, look at you and not feel — [ his fingers slide down the sharp planes of his cheeks, caressing the lines of his jaw. one hand ghosts to his throat, his hand stilling over the dark bruise. he tilts kaz’s jaw up and leans in, his lips suddenly ghosting over his mottled skin. ] That I could somehow divorce touch and the depth of what I feel for you — Kaz, even if the monster never let me touch you again, if it was the only one that ever got close enough to feel you, I would never stop feeling this way for you. And I would never want to.
[ he can’t get close enough, pressing kaz’s spine to the doorframe, distantly hearing his cane thud carelessly to the floor. one arm winds around his waist, bracing kaz against him as his mouth finds his for a desperate kiss, having ached for this for so long that he can barely hold himself back. ]
You can’t tell me to lead. [ his fingers tremble as they card through kaz’s dark hair and come to rest at his cheek once more, words dropping to a whisper between kisses. ] Because if it were up to me I would say to hell with all of this. I don’t care what’s coming for me. I would board my ship with you and show you the entire world and never come back. And I would love you with all the days that I have left. [ he laughs suddenly, a soft, aching sound as he presses his face to kaz’s hair to give him a moment to breathe, a moment to pull away if he needs to. ] You can’t tell me you’d follow such madness.
[ nikolai droops as if all his strings have been cut, and kaz tightens his grip on the doorframe. can’t go to him, if he means what he says. can’t hold him, can’t kiss him, can only wait. his mind narrows to the point where his fingers meet the wood. nikolai’s voice barely carries across the room, but the very sound of it makes him step forward. there is no worthy answer to his observation. you don’t want me enough, a childish clarification when it amounts to the same thing: mismatched desires. the silence that follows scrapes his insides, cutting up his throat. that’s it, then. it’s done. it’s finally over.
until nikolai looks at him, eyes blazing without a speck of black to mar them. old instincts straighten kaz’s spine, jaw angled up for a fight. his fingers curl into fist, balanced against the doorframe. the hands on his face knock every thought off its track. a flicker of hurt escapes the crack in his wary mask. he forces himself to take a long breath, hand lifting from the door to nikolai’s forearm, unsure whether he intends to guide it away or hold it there. the distress crumpling nikolai’s features stalls any action. where would he go, when nikolai is here?
as nikolai mouths over his bruise, guilt and relief sear down his spine. hard to say what touch feels like for others, when it remains inherently overwhelming for kaz, imbued with meaning. there is no touch without risk (and its corollary, trust). no taction short of devastating (galvanising). nikolai’s words — the depth of what i feel you — prove just as rattling, the answer to the question he’s been asking since novyi zem. no, since nikolai kissed him in the captain’s quarters, as if he were a desirable thing. his words are a revelation with the force of a crashing wave, kaz, not brekker. nikolai has been closer than anyone (only the demon nips at his heels). a truth he seems to acknowledge without nudging him towards alternative hopes, for a change.
he drops his cane, but only realises it from the clatter against the floor. can’t help but think about how foolish that is — to drop his only weapon and support so that he can thread a hand into nikolai’s hair and throw an arm around his shoulders, to keep him there, kissing him breathless. there are no safe places, including here, in these arms. it’s easier to scold himself for that than face the words tumbling from nikolai’s perfect mouth. i would love you ringing, hallucination made real. that laugh in his ear — he tips his head back against the frame, angle harsh enough that he can see with his eyes half-closed. silent, invisible calculations in his head. ]
[ quiet, then. ] Are you hoping I’ll say no? [ another trap in which kaz brekker provides the escape, free of charge. no one but nikolai would recognise the unease tucked in the tick of his voice. kaz pushes through it. ] You won’t lead. You won’t be led. [ he drags a hand down nikolai’s collar, just shy of his fresh wounds, and then reverses course to cup his cheek. ] What am I supposed to do with you? [ besides this, tugging him in for a resurgent kiss and then another, fingers twisting into the short hair at the nape of his neck. ] You’ve been mad from the start. [ touching the bastard of the barrel after a dust-up, as if that’s the done thing. he closes his eyes and catches his breath, quieting the crackle of intimacy and lingering confessions. ]
I’d keep a hand on the wheel. You know that. [ can’t give over control completely, always angling and ever ready for the tide to change. it’s not quite an answer, but then nikolai didn’t ask a question. eyes opening, he tips his head forward. ] Does that sound like madness?
[ it's impossible to say what he's hoping for, so many hopeless wants tangled up like briars in his head. he wants to exist apart from the madness creeping at the edges of his mind, for there to only be the warmth of kaz's mouth, the rock salt rasp of his voice, the experimental touch of his pale fingers as they twine into his hair and brush down his cheeks. all anchors he can hold onto, things to keep him here when the dark tries to pull him under. but they're past that now. the demon has a voice. it's chosen some part of kaz as its own anchor, its claws deep in kaz's flesh with no intention of letting go. nikolai knows that cutting both tethers is the only answer now, the demon's and his own, leaving kaz alone once more after everything.
he can't. not now. but looking at him now, sleepless and shadowed, the stench of blood still clinging to this room, he knows that allowing the demon to prey on him can only be a fleeting solution. once only. he lifts a finger and traces the pad his thumb beneath kaz's eye, his fingertip barely brushing the bottom of his dark lashes. after this voyage, after they reach fjerda, he can't rule out a painful untethering. not when he can't guarantee that a more permanent answer will ever present itself after all.
but of this he says nothing, because there are other promises he needs to extract first. he tugs kaz from the doorframe, mindful of the time he’s spent standing, their lips meeting in slow harmony as he guides him into the room. stripping the bed all for a little blood now feels a touch foolish, the mattress bare and uninviting, so he brings kaz to the floor instead, lowered into a mountain of pillows and sheets he’d thrown down in his discomfited tantrum. he can hardly bring himself to take a breath for want of kissing him, his eyes fluttering open to slide a pillow beneath kaz’s knee before he’s concentrated on his mouth again, hand cradling his cheek as he braces kaz gently against the side of the bed, leaning in like he’ll never be able to get close enough. ]
I trust you. [ to keep a hand on the wheel. he’ll need to, when nikolai is buried deep inside himself and unable to be his safety in the way he’s always endeavored. the kiss breaks, but he doesn’t move away, his eyes shuttered. it’s easier this way when he knows what he’s going to ask won’t be met with enthusiasm. his fingers glide slowly down kaz’s cheek, coming to rest at the curve of his throat, his thumb brushing over his bruised skin. ] But you have to make me a promise. Promise that you’ll defend yourself in any means necessary. That you won’t hesitate just because this thing is in my body, wearing my face. Swear it to me. [ he finally pulls back, taking kaz’s bandaged hand and pressing it to his heart, the wounds at his chest stinging beneath kaz’s fingers. ] Swear to me that I won’t wake up to find your body robbed of life by the monster. I would rather die. Swear that you’ll kill me first.
[ his hazel eyes are clear, steady. the only regret he feels is that he knows these demands are too great a burden to place upon anyone, that these words will sit like a serrated blade in kaz’s lungs each time he takes a breath. kaz will not forgive him, if it ever comes to this brutal end, but there are many crimes nikolai knows he’ll never earn forgiveness for. he doesn’t look away, gaze fixed on kaz’s eyes, bright sapphire only made more piercing with pain. ]
I will not kill for the monster. [ he’s done it enough, so many times that he’ll never be able to put a number to the lives he’s taken or absolve himself of this sin. he won’t add to it. ] And I will not feed from you unless you agree to my terms. This is not a barter.
[ part of this feels like a trap, that nikolai — that the gods or saints or fate would never let him have this and keep it. nikolai won’t stay, certainly. because everyone always leaves. still, it’s difficult to hold that fear at the forefront of his mind with nikolai guiding him elsewhere, all blistering tenderness. nikolai leads him to sit comfortably, takes aching care of his bad leg, and never leaves him bereft of his mouth for long. i trust you is the jewel of this crown. something he wanted to hear. something that shouldn’t be said to kaz brekker. having faith in a bastard and thief can only end one way.
another time, he might unpick how nikolai sometimes speaks of the demon as part of him, while others, he refers to it as wholly separate. can barely focus on thoughts splintering from the present, with how nikolai drags him to a potential future. this is what he trusts you to do. his own pulse thuds in his ears, accelerated and magnified by nikolai’s heart beating beneath his palm. his other hand cradles nikolai’s skull, tugging it forward. ]
[ in a whisper made harsh by the gravel in his throat, ] I know. [ nikolai would rather die than kill again. if it came down to him or nikolai, any unselfish gambit would doom them both. he tilts his head until their foreheads press together, blue eyes more alert than they’ve been all morning. ] I swear, Nikolai. If it comes to that, I’ll kill you first. [ that scenario plays out against his will: nikolai’s teeth at his throat, the knife in his hand, his body suddenly limp against him. he wants to beg for an alternative, any promise that won’t send him hurtling back to the start — no, further along the winding path he took to power. ] The deal is the deal. [ ground out, despite every protest in his heart. a kiss seals it, hard and desperate. his memory of last night's ploy refracts in the afternoon sun. it won’t end that way, he reminds himself. if the demon wanted to kill him, it would have seized the opportunity to do so before now. it might yet kill someone else, dissatisfied with kaz’s offering. he'll have to force it to understand. bloodshed all but guarantees its end. and kaz brekker, untrustworthy and fractious as he is, can repay what’s been lost. his lips brush nikolai’s cheek, suddenly chaste. ]
Go get the kit. Can't have a scratch ending you before all that. [ less vitally, it allows him time to re-arrange all the trembling thoughts in his mind. if it comes down to him or nikolai, he can make the call (the kill). it’d be no different from his life up to this point. better to view everything he’s had in the last year as the exception and not the rule. he tidies his hair, though he suspects (hopes) nikolai will dishevel it again. ] You didn’t answer me earlier. [ at breakfast. once he has the kit in hand, he’s quick to dab at nikolai’s wounds without warning, the burn of disinfectant chasing his nimble fingers. ] Is this all you want today? [ from there, he unwinds the bandages and jerks his head to call nikolai closer. his good leg bends to leverage himself straighter, so he can wrap the crimson cuts on nikolai’s chest. ] And tonight?
[ a murkier concept. his gaze meets nikolai’s before returning to his work, movements precise. ]
[ he expects an argument, though he doesn't intend to yield no matter what it costs him. in the end kaz bears it all anyway, drawing him into a searing kiss laced with pain and promise. he trusts kaz to keep it, to keep him in the way that nikolai needs him to even if kaz may not agree. he leaves him for only a moment, returning with not only the kit but having fetched kaz's discarded clothes from the night before, jacket, vest, and trousers settled in an untidy heap on a stray pillow. no doubt there are weapons and other valuable objects hidden inside pockets and linings. nikolai feels a pang of guilt; he should've made certain kaz had them earlier. should've told him where his own weapons are kept, should've shown him the brace of pistols in the trunk at the foot of the bed, the knives he used to throw with tamar now in a gleaming case at his desk.
is this all he wants? it feels like an impossible question to answer, the sort of thing he hasn’t bothered being truthful about in years. he’s always wanted more, always craved more attention, more affection, and it’s no different now, his fingers restless as they travel along the fabric of kaz’s shirt, holding as still as he’s able while his wounds are tended. there’s a careful sort of hunger in kaz’s gaze, something that twists knots in nikolai’s stomach, and he can’t help but feel as though kaz is leading him even now, but in this way he doesn’t mind quite so much. ]
I should be asking you that, since you’ve yet to master voicing your desires at will. [ kaz’s hands are efficient but gentle, his fingertips cool when they brush bare skin. when the work of the bandages is done, nikolai strays nearer still, greedy for the sight of him like this, boyishly undone. he flicks open the buttons of kaz’s shirt, knowing that he should be doing precisely the opposite, that there are affairs that need seeing to before their voyage, but the rising need between them feels heightened in its urgency, and for more than just a touch or a kiss.
when he brings their mouths together this time he slips his tongue past kaz’s lips, slowly seeking entrance, his fingers threading gently through his dark hair. he allows himself this moment, unhurried, the full weight of his want poured into one kiss. kaz’s mouth tastes like honey — and sudden copper when his tongue brushes a tender cut at the inside of his cheek, a brief tang of blood. he remembers waking to the hot, salty kiss sealed in blood and draws in a sharp breath, tensing. but he also feels the afternoon sunlight warming the back of his neck, hears kaz’s soft promise still ringing in his ears. i’m not going anywhere. ]
When you feel me— [ his voice is just a whisper, his eyes closed as his hands travel down kaz’s body, fingers drawing slowly down the hard planes of his chest, tracing over the cage of his ribs and dipping down to loosen his trousers. his lips relocate to his cheek, his jaw, nudging his head up so he can kiss along the line of his throat, charting a path that cuts directly over the bruise. ] My hands, my mouth — [ his palm presses to his cock, flooded with the sudden realization that he has not touched kaz in so long that he aches for it now, his mouth seeking his lips once more. ] Is it me you feel? Or is it —
[ the words are swallowed in a desperate kiss, loathing that this doubt plagues his mind, that the monster has taken even this from him. ]
[ it’s a bittersweet gesture, for nikolai to return his things to him, guilt set in the hunch of his shoulders. a comfort to have resources within reach, after their bloody night together. as if he hasn’t done permanent damage to his defenses already.
nikolai does his damndest to keep still while kaz cares for him, and his heart kicks up in his chest at the thought of the effort required. i should be asking you is such a predictable response that he huffs a laugh. ghezen forbid nikolai lantsov ever answers one of his questions. kaz forces a frown as he knots the bandage atop nikolai’s shoulder. he was hoping nikolai might offer a plan for the demon’s dinner tonight before distracting him, but admitting that’s what he was asking about would only lend credence to nikolai’s fixation on his unattended, fledgling wants. what sort of person thinks of logistics and death, while he has this in hand? (they do, of course.)
when nikolai ducks into his space, kaz gives in, leaning against the mattress and straightening his leg. here’s a hand in his hair that he didn’t have to ask for — not just touching but holding. they should be making preparations for the voyage, but every instinct is inverted with nikolai. rather than stiffening, his tongue running across his mouth activates an unlocking. kaz sighs into nikolai’s mouth, brandied where it was bloody only this morning. much more familiar. can feel nikolai notice the raw ridge in his cheek. wonders, then, what he makes of it and receives an answer as it pulls him taught as a high-wire. should guide him across, without any abrupt shifts, but there are pathetic rattles in his cavernous mind. with what i am, what i’ve done, what wants me, do you still — his hands trace the bandages, then wander lower, thumb dragging down the divot in nikolai’s lower back until it reaches his trousers. kaz hooks his fingers into the waistband, sliding around to unlace his front. he slows as nikolai stumbles: whisper off-kilter, lips pressed to the bruise he shouldn’t have allowed. that the demon keeps re-marking every chance it gets. like nikolai. not like nikolai. a dark, wanting thing. like you. a chill runs through him, icy as the black waters.
he’s distracted enough that the hand on his cock wins a soft sound, unstoppered. both hands settle at nikolai’s hips, urging him nearer, into his lap like the last time they were close. immediately, it’s clear what he can’t quite ask. all his nerves teeter on edge. you put that doubt in his heart. they’re kissing before kaz can answer, and then they’re kissing again because he can’t get enough after going without. might not have this in the morning, if the demon finds their offering lacking. and if it accepts? he shivers, grip tightening. ]
It’s you. [ an assurance gifted with urgency in the seconds between open-mouthed kisses, eyes screwed shut. every stray thought returns to nikolai, even the ones that begin with his shadow circle back to him. ] Whenever anyone tries to come close, even when it isn’t you — [ that’s harder to explain, tainted with madness. when the demon drags cold down his skin and sinks its teeth into his flesh, the knowledge that it’s still nikolai, if only in part, keeps him from sinking into the harbour. he nuzzles into nikolai’s cheek, affection overflowing ] It’s always you. [ most likely, nikolai does and doesn’t want such an answer. before it gets caught and twisted in his paradoxical mind, kaz pulls his hips downward and arches up to meet them. ]
Want you to leave a mark. [ a hushed request hung on a hitching breath. maybe then they’ll both think of that and not its mirror image. but what if nikolai says no? perhaps he can’t after it did that, too. this is the trouble with voicing his desires. better to revisit one that nikolai let slip. ] I want to give you what you begged for last time we were together, too. [ weeks ago now, probably with half-a-hope that kaz would forget he said anything so needful. he slips his hand into nikolai’s loosened trousers, cupping his ass. ] Do you still — [ want him, want that, or has the third entity in this entanglement changed where they stand? ]
[ he's prepared for any answer, even the ugliest of ones. has to be. reality has pushed aside every well-meaning fantasy he's tried to cultivate here, all his foolish efforts to give kaz a taste of things that aren't soaked in blood or death. ordinary things meant for people who aren't them. a small part of him though that perhaps with coming here he could be someone other than nikolai lantsov, that he could fabricate yet another new strand of an identity that has never belonged to him but that he's done well in collecting nonetheless. that he could still be useful if this person could give kaz all the things he's never been lucky enough to have. but he has the shadow to contend with, and it's the shadow that tells him who he needs to be now, and what he needs to let go of.
and still kaz gifts him with this. it's you. doesn't matter which you — perhaps kaz doesn’t see his fragments and masks the way nikolai does, donning them to feel like a wholly different man — only that kaz sees him and not it. his breath chokes suddenly — it’s always you — but he kisses him harder, only bereft of his mouth when kaz asks for something more, and nikolai doesn’t hesitate for even a moment, the thought of saying no never crossing his mind. an immediate reward for voicing a desire, his mouth finds a soft, hidden spot inches beneath kaz’s earlobe, teeth scraping against flesh before he sucks sharply, leaving a mark on the opposite side of his throat that his collar will neatly cover. he kisses the reddened skin, soothing it over with his tongue, and is diligently on his way to kissing along the whole of his jawline when kaz speaks again, effectively stalling his mouth.
yes, a part of him wishes he’d forgotten. a flush floods his cheeks, shame and desire warming him in equal parts, but for better or for worse, kaz never forgets anything. he wanted this — still wants this, to give every part of himself, to have this with kaz. when he asked before he’d been smarting with hurt and anger, reeking of desperation upon seeing kaz after such a prolonged absence (after walking into an empty room). arching into kaz’s touch, ever mindful of his injury, he kisses him while trying to tame the flight of nerves rushing through him. ]
Do I still what? Want this? [ it won’t do to let that doubt fester. the darkness has spread far past his own self to now infect kaz as well, but whatever his feelings about the shifting ground beneath them, there are some things even the monster can’t change. ] I want everything with you. For as long as I can have it. [ pulling his hand from kaz’s trousers, he grinds their hips together, his cavernous need eclipsing, for now, the unease of vulnerability. by some stroke of luck or the favor of the saints, kaz still wants him — doesn’t look at him as the fearsome, detestable thing that lives inside him, that’s become so much a part of him that nikolai doesn’t know where he ends and the monster begins. can’t say how long that will last. ] For as long as you’ll have me.
[ then they’re kissing again, heated and urgent, breaking apart sporadically so he can undress them both, sliding kaz’s shirt from his shoulders, lifting his hips to strip him bare of his trousers. nikolai shucks his own pants after him and rattles the drawer open, moving objects about haphazardly until he finally closes his fingers around the tin he’s looking for. the top clatters to the floor as he returns to his careful position in kaz’s lap, his hand slick as he grips kaz’s cock and drags his fingers from base to tip. his fingers tremble, his breath an unsteady cascade against kaz’s wet lips. the logistics of what he asked for suddenly press upon him, that he will have to stop and be still, theoretically, at least for a bit, and that does little to ease the tension holding tight to him. until now, he’s taken the natural lead in all their encounters, happy to offer kaz guidance and a space to stretch new muscles. it isn’t as if he doesn’t enjoy the other side (he does, immensely), but he’s shed many habits since the demon took hold, willingly yielding any inch of control being chief among them. ]
[ nikolai rewards him for saying the right thing or asking for anything at all, relief and heat intertwining. it’s perfect, how he fits into kaz’s shoulder and noses under his ear. a gentle, intent act shy of last night’s bruising. something just for them, even if the demon can see it through the filter of nikolai’s warm gaze. kaz keeps nikolai’s bowed head in the clutch of his hand, chasing his touch until he stills. not wanted, then. no, wanted too much. neither of them like the vulnerability inherent in such an admission (or in asking the question). his eyes round, pupils dark. if it were anyone else, he’d deny that he doubts, let alone cares, but nikolai already knows the depths of his uncertainty. you must think i don’t want this, us, you. yes, of course. at least then there’s a reason they keep breaking apart. and there’s more logic in it than the alternative: a desire for everything, indefinitely with kaz brekker. drowned man. self-made monster. no one to blame for infecting him with darkness but himself.
as long as you’ll have me, he says, as if kaz’s wanting has an end — as if he didn’t kiss nikolai’s shadow, mouth full of blood. a thief never gives anything back. if nikolai would stay — or let kaz follow him — he busies his mouth before he risks excavating his heart all over again. his hands only fall away when nikolai lifts out of reach, and they’re snug at his hips as soon as he returns. can’t keep himself from staring or stop awe from tugging his mouth higher. so much happens in a rush and then stops, but kaz catches up.
when nerves get the better of nikolai, he tries to speed past them, careening around corners to the next thing — putting someone else’s pleasure above his own, as he does now. tension coiled at the base of his spine, hips hovering above kaz’s lap. hasn’t ever been like this before — but this is different, isn’t it? from everything else. he knows that now. he slides his hand up and down nikolai’s back, soothing without seeking anything more. ]
Not so fast. [ in the matters of hurrying this along and going away inside his mind. saints, he can feel the furrow in nikolai’s brow, their noses brushing. gently, he guides nikolai’s hand away from his aching cock to the mattress behind him. lightly, then. ] How heavy do you think you are? [ laughing, just a little, at nikolai’s suspended position, poised on taut muscles. both hands re-settle on his hips and squeeze, pulling him flush. it doesn’t hurt kaz, injury set at a resting level of pain. his bandaged palm frames the length of nikolai's neck, thumb arcing over the hinge of his jaw. a softer kiss helps slow the world down, narrowing his focus to exploring nikolai’s perfect mouth. ]
I’ve wanted this, too, but not like that. [ is this how nikolai has been with others? the people in-between dominik and kaz. possibly. (they can’t have known how precious he is, or they’d never have let him go.) it's not how nikolai has been with him, in the moments that mattered, so kaz adjusts their course.
leaning back and to the side, he stretches in search of the tin that nikolai sent rolling among his mountainous bedsheets and pillows. so careless with his things (with himself). once he finds it, he sets it within reach, brow arched like he half expects nikolai to dart forward again. his hand fits back at nikolai’s hip soon enough, tracing the seam where it meets his thigh. kaz thinks about nikolai’s legs tightening around him, when he first asked for this — how badly he wanted to give it to him, despite the chill in the air from their parting. his fingers follow the muscle of his thigh to the bend of his knee, dipping into that soft hollow before skimming down his leg to cinch at his ankle. there are still so many places he hasn’t touched. even when he finally maps them all, he knows it won’t be enough. ] Like this.
[ he slicks his fingers and curls them around the base of nikolai’s cock, grip sliding tight to the tip and back down. a few easy jerks are meant to break the surface tension, but it’s hard to stop touching him once he’s started. luckily, he supposes he doesn’t have to, his other hand gliding back up nikolai’s leg and dipping between his cheeks. ] Tell me if this isn’t alright. [ it’s another moment of unhurried warming, not pressing in, even if nikolai tries to urge him onwards. never done this before, obviously, but nikolai did it for him. the memory makes his heart stutter. ] If it’s too fast, [ teasing, maybe, but they’ve only just found themselves on the same page. ] I can wait. [ he presses inward, just so. kaz can always wait, even for things that may never come to pass, and certainly for this, nikolai’s weight comforting and not oppressive. alive, not dead. suffused with heat from the inside — he can feel it. a slight push acts as a careful test of resistance. quick kisses cover his cheek, the corner of his mouth, his jaw. too much affection, stymied for years and then only weeks. ] I’ll give you anything you want. [ he jacks nikolai’s cock at the exact moment he sinks inside. ] Everything.
[ kaz is a fixed, solid point in the flurried tangle of his mind, calm where nikolai feels foolishly skittish, carefully guiding him against his every instinct to squander this moment. he's faced armies, looked kings and queens and death itself in the eye, and yet this perilous wanting is the thing that makes him want to flay his skin off. kaz turns an aching tenderness upon him, caught beneath the full weight of his careful attention — and kaz is attentive in all things, his eyes watchful even when he thinks nikolai doesn’t see, but he’s also frequently subdued, non-reactionary to nikolai’s steady stream of mindless words and antics. this is awareness of a different kind, the sort of care he needs in this moment as if he is the fledgling attempting to spread wings for the first time instead of the other way around.
although when he looks at kaz now it’s hard to believe that of him, with his gentle reassurances, firm but never pressing too hard. testing the waters, perhaps, of how much guidance nikolai will take. historically, it’s been little. to lay the mantle down after so long — so long that it feels all but welded to his shoulders — feels impossible. but kaz pulls him close, reorients him with a slow kiss and his languorous hands exploring his body, and nikolai finds himself responding in kind, his hand once again in kaz’s soft hair, his heart rabbiting in a quick but steady pace. it’s new for him — not the coarse action in itself, but the whole of this. he’s fallen into many beds, had experiences of many kinds, but none that have stripped him bare quite like kaz is able to, none that have meant so much or come so close to his heart. ]
It’s — good. [ stuttered into his mouth when kaz’s deft fingers wrap around his cock, simultaneous pressure spreading him open. he rocks forward, then backwards, wanting both with a gaping hunger, his skin flush with desire. ] It’s not too fast. [ i can wait sounds more like punishment for his bad behavior, but kaz doesn’t hold out for long, chasing his sweet promises with reward, and nikolai’s spine tightens, bracing one hand tighter against the bed as he finally broaches him. immediately, he wants more. ]
Another. [ he kisses him, nudging his hips up slightly so kaz can add a second finger, this time accompanied with a slow burn of pain that he relishes. his teeth catch at kaz’s bottom lip as he bears down, a helpless sound escaping the clench of his teeth. everything strikes discord in him, his eyes fluttering open, a crease in his brow. he’s shaken by how much he wants this, and how every breath feels lancing, tension singing in his bones. his words don’t sound like himself when he speaks, instead taking on the quality of someone less assured, someone who has allowed a deep seated fear to creep into the light. ] I don’t want everything from you. [ he falters; it sounds wrong, hurtful, the opposite of what he means. his fingers curl at kaz’s shoulder, a shudder taking him as he shifts. ] The monster wants to take everything from you. I only want you to stay.
[ a wholly selfish request when in his mind’s eye he’s all but decided that this must end when kaz has been excised of the merzost in his leg. he understands now why it hurts to breathe, and that it will hurt every time he looks at kaz until the moment he’s forced to cut him away like a dog from a leash, only kaz will never understand that he’s the dog and kaz is the one holding the leash. he rises suddenly, feeling the cold absence of kaz’s fingers, reaching down to wrap his hand firmly around kaz’s waiting cock. ]
I need you. [ never been one for begging, and yet it feels natural now, something fissuring in him at the weight of his own deception. he has time, dwindling though it may be. time to concoct a plan, to invent a new solution, only those weeks have been slashed to ribbons with the demon’s demands. every seven days he must forge an answer. there is no time, not with kaz’s wellbeing sitting flush in the middle. panic mingled with desire quickens his breath, a heady mixture. no time at all.
gripping the nape of kaz’s neck, he pulls him down as he sprawls onto his back among the pillows, drawing him between his legs. his green eyes are as dark as a forest at night, his hips rising in a desperate plea. ] Please. Don’t be gentle.
[ there’s always a chance that nikolai will chafe against leading hands, but today — today, he gives in, relaxing into kaz and matching his pace. no, meeting it with the greedy rock of his hips. it’s good is a relief, compounded by the soft sounds in nikolai’s throat. another confirms this was the right move, yet nikolai still manages to tangle himself in monstrous possibilities and counters. ]
[ a disapproving noise. ] I know you want more than that. [ he pushes in hard, crooking his fingers. his tone leaves no room for doubt. nikolai is like him, a boy whose wanting has no end — or he’d have let kaz finish this closeness moments ago. why reject that offer of a clean break? if it were anyone else, he’d think they wanted to heighten his pain — to take control and twist the knife in his gut, but nikolai has been chasing emotion over logic ever since he lost the crown. as it happens, kaz also disagrees in the matter of the monster, but decides against voicing that. if the monster wanted to take everything, it’s had chance after chance to do so — last night most of all — and every time, it lets him go. there’s too much of nikolai in it to hurt him like that. and there’s too much of it in nikolai for him to mean what he says. ] You want this, too, and I want to give it to you. You can’t take something that’s freely given. [ but then nikolai seems to be struggling to take any of this — kaz has half a mind to slow to a stop until nikolai takes him in hand and confesses his need. ]
You have me, Nikolai. [ riding on an unsteady breath. the second request destabilises him. don’t be gentle. because you don’t want it, or because you can’t take it? tenderness hurts more, he knows it does. it’s why he behaved so harshly the second time they came together. in this, however, kaz is prone to softness, with his jagged edges sanded down by the hours they’ve spent entangled — or maybe just by bumping up against the border between longing and having one too many times. this close, kaz can feel everything: the rise and fall of nikolai’s chest under his wandering hands, the reverberation of his answer, and the pulse ratcheting under his skin, flushed with blood. as with all things nikolai asks of him, it takes little time for kaz to oblige, leaning more on his left leg than the right. he slides a pillow under nikolai’s hips to heighten the angle, palm pushing his chest down. it’s the best chance he’s had to look at nikolai — all of nikolai — in some time, and he gets a little lost in it.
regaining a measure of focus, he first anchors his hand under nikolai’s thigh, sliding slowly up behind his knee. even if nikolai doesn't think he needs time — it can't hurt. kaz guides his legs around his waist, attention split between where he pushes inside (slow and careful and gentle, despite his instructions) and nikolai’s expression, cracking under the pressure of intimacy. ]
You feel so good. [ overwhelmed despite his efforts to maintain his composure, to make this good for nikolai by being a fixed point. the fissures already show, eyes wild and hair sticking up from when nikolai ran his fingers through it. never had someone quite like this before, never been comfortable or welcomed enough to bend over them, as intimate as it gets. kaz shifts a hand back up his thigh, so he can snap his hips the rest of the way, bottoming out, all shuddering breaths. the heat of another body is horrible. no, wonderful. it’s just nikolai — nikolai with his razored teeth at his throat and claws sinking into his hand, shoulder, leg. a wounded sound. has to dig his nails into nikolai’s thigh to ground himself, steadying himself so he's got enough leverage to move with one hand, while the other laces their fingers together at nikolai’s hip, more for his own sake. ]
I’ve got you. [ another shift to adjust the angle where they come together, pulling nikolai closer, dragging long and slow. there’s too much on kaz’s mind to do anything but keep moving — working himself up into deeper and better-timed thrusts. ]
[ he loves that kaz is clever, loves to watch his mind tick and whir through problems and solutions and endless plans, but being pinned under those eyes, that mind, with no hiding place to speak of that's strong enough to bear the full weight of kaz's scrutiny, is sudden agony. his lies are so easily exposed here, tongued open and discarded. he does want more. he's always wanted more, and kaz has risen to meet him again and again. when a simple brush of skin was everything, kaz gave it — then a kiss became everything, then a deeper touch, then spilled words, an ongoing spiral of things nikolai wanted and kaz found in him to master. and now this. a tipping point of things undeserved, and yet he wants it all the same, and he wants kaz to have this, too.
kaz, of course, treats him gently. it’s harder to bear than he could have imagined, after everything — to try to relax, to attempt to lower the barrier between heedless pleasure and the inescapable clamor of his thoughts. he’s eager to have kaz inside of him, but it comes with the heavy weight of gentle caresses, kaz’s fingers exploring places he’s never touched before. it isn’t the touch itself that unnerves him — it’s the quiet reverence with which kaz does so, as if his edges are still gilded, as if he still deserves to be handled with such care. he thinks of zoya sending him away, of his parents standing before him in os kervo’s city hall to renounce him as a pretender. he thinks of kaz’s fresh blood in his mouth, and how he has no choice but to hurt him again this very day.
he feels the shift when their fingers twine, kaz holding on as if he’ll be swept away by the tide, his hips still pushing doggedly into him as if nikolai’s pleasure is more important than anything else. a low moan tumbles past his lips, his lashes fluttering as he tries to keep kaz in his sights, wanting to make sure he’s all right. doesn’t like this feeling of his control slipping away, but there’s little he can do against it when no part of his body wants this to stop. ]
You do. You have me. [ a bitter truth, confessed in a tight breath. any other time it would make him glad in ways he’s wished for for so long — to belong, to be wanted — only this time he’s caught in an awful snare constructed by kaz and the monster. nowhere to go but forward, time shrinking down between now and the moment his razored teeth sink back into soft flesh. their hips join again, a raw brush of heat knocking his thoughts askew, his head tipping into a patch of sunlight as his back arches. he’s blinded momentarily when his gaze flutters open, his eyes bright gold in the sun, and then he moves, gripping the back of kaz’s neck to draw him down for a hard kiss. ]
It’s good. Keep going. [ he meets kaz’s thrusts, helping him to a rhythm while he feels his resolve melt away. it’s like trying to hold on to a ledge with slippery fingers, trying to hold back a dam with battered walls. his hand presses to kaz’s spine, urging him in deeper while his breath stutters, his hair darkening with sweat. ] I need it — to feel good for you, too. Does it? Tell me —
[ he tries to meet his gaze, but it feels too piercing, a small lance of panic cutting through his chest before he rises, spending a moment on a breathless kiss and then turning to brace against the side of the bed. he pulls kaz’s chest to his back, deft fingers finding kaz’s slick cock and sliding it back inside of him with a soft groan. craning over his shoulder, he steals another messy kiss, blond hair askew, his eyes near glassy with desperation. he pushes back, heat sparking between them. ] Please. Please.
[ you have me. a relief. a terror. kaz has him in hand, if not in mind. at least at this moment, with daylight and nikolai both sure to slip through his fingers by nightfall, a shadow rising in their place. those thoughts flicker and fizzle out, replaced the frightful heat of touch after touch.
it’s easier than it should be, to let control ebb and flow between them. (should never ease his grip, should never let nikolai guide his steps.) kaz slows and gentles until nikolai can’t take it any longer — expected, understood — green-gold eyes gilded with sunlight and threatening to cut to the heart of him. kaz chokes on his wanting until nikolai tongues the air back into his lungs. it’s good. surely wanted — perhaps needed, or that’s kaz’s own higher thoughts collapsing in on themselves. nothing but fevered skin, sweat-slick between them. he’d have lost himself already if not for nikolai’s urging. as ever, kaz follows his voice out of the endless dark. ]
Yeah — yes. [ would have agreed with anything nikolai asked just now, because it’s good in the way it always is. better. the part of drowning where the body gives into its fate.
then they’re aligned at a new angle, kaz’s hands finding the curves of nikolai’s hips, at first gauging the rhythm of his movements, then aiding them with a hard push down. ]
It’s good. [ his mouth finds nikolai’s throat, teeth scraping at the soft juncture of his neck. if their roles were reversed, his jugular would be open. or maybe it wouldn’t. maybe it’d just be marked again: the threat of blood bruising the skin. kaz smears kisses up nikolai’s throat to banish his thoughts, copper in his mouth. ] You’re — good. [ voice breaking, rock salt rasp made brittle. ]
Perfect, Nikolai. [ you have to say his name. debauched and unravelling in his arms for the better. between them, kaz’s fingers follow the tense cord of muscle down nikolai’s back, the arc of his trembling spine that he must have memorised. can’t hold onto this moment any longer. heat curls in the pit of his chest. finally, he reaches around to the flat of nikolai’s stomach, trembling with nerves or need, and takes his cock in hand. ] You first. [ more breathless than teasing, though a lucid thought underwrites it. nikolai always puts others — including damnable kaz brekker — first, chasing their pleasure (and safety) before his own. not today. not this very second or in the miserable hours that will follow. kaz pushes slick and deep, hand quick and sure as nikolai tightens around him. no wonder nikolai wanted this before fjerda (might have thought of it within moments of having the flinty, narrow-eyed kaz brekker staring at him with blown open eyes). a sweet dizziness overtakes him just as nikolai spills in his hand. kaz loses his mouth after that, face buried in nikolai’s shoulder and hips pushing until his wanting crests with a faltering cry. his breath keeps coming hot and heavy after, slowing but not stopping. no matter the angle, kaz always ends up split open, with crevices and cracks for nikolai to store his light. ]
Perfect, Nikolai. [ if he keeps saying it, nikolai might half-believe him. one arm still braces around nikolai’s chest; his other hand falling to nikolai’s thigh. kaz tells himself he can hold on because nikolai will pull away before anything else can slip through his teeth. ]
[ he gives in. there was never any chance of fighting this, never any path that he wouldn't have found a way to twist to his own gain in order to lead him right back here. of all the firsts he's guided kaz carefully, painstakingly through, now kaz gives him this — not the physical act, but something sharper, deeper, something that cuts through every mask and falsehood to get to the very heart of him. a heart that no one else has faced with such unflinching clarity, scarred and twisted with darkness despite every desperate bid he makes to stay in the light.
perfect. a lie or the truth, it doesn’t matter now. nothing matters now except that he has kaz for this moment, has him in a way that’s more than good — good enough to forget the looming darkness snapping at his heels, the horrible, twisted bargain struck between man and monster. kaz will not let him run from it later, but now there’s only the slick pull of kaz’s nimble fingers, the arch of his spine with every thrust. the familiar rasp of his voice guides him toward the cusp of his pleasure — nikolai would be lost without it, without him, not just here in this moment, but for the months now that kaz brekker has occupied a space in the brambles of his thoughts, the one constant in a life marked by darkness and loss.
he comes with a hard shudder, kaz’s fingers working some miraculously cruel magic to wring a pathetically helpless sound from his throat, and he feels every tremor when kaz follows, both of nikolai’s hands gripping the bed, white-knuckled. nikolai moves even as time seems to halt around them, turning in kaz’s tender embrace to cradle his jaw, lifting his face to his for a breathless kiss, long and slow. kissing kaz brekker is its own sort of lovemaking, the give and take of it, the yielding of his body, the way kaz gives the whole of his attention to the act, the way every thought flies out of nikolai’s head with the soft slide of their mouths. his fingers caress kaz’s sweat-slicked skin, his heartbeat rabbiting against his own. nikolai relishes the mess their bodies have made together, and he wonders, fleetingly, if a part of kaz is tempering his revulsion right now. ]
Remember this. [ he runs a hand through kaz’s dark hair, then finds his hand, twining their fingers together. his lips never leave kaz’s, greedy, hungrily chasing his mouth. ] When I’m not myself. You have to remember who I really am. [ a prince, a privateer, a monster trying to be an ordinary man. he presses their linked hands to kaz’s fast-beating heart, alive. ] No matter what happens. Remember this.
[ he kisses kaz for as long as time allows it, until their breaths settle, until they’re tangled once again on the floor and the shadows lengthen through his bedroom window. until reality starts to creep back into the spin of his whirring mind, the ship’s preparations and kaz’s leg and the task of allowing the monster to feed. it will be the last thing they do tonight — it will put kaz out of commission and likely nikolai as well, at worst, and he’s not chancing that anything will go at best. when he rolls onto his back, he’s clear-eyed as he blinks at the ceiling, his thumb rubbing idly at kaz’s hip. ]
Get your affairs in order. Meet me back here when you’re done. [ he shifts to glance at him, smile in place. ] There’s no privacy in Fifth Harbor.
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No. [ didn’t do more, didn’t kiss him. an answer both quick and firm. kaz is the one at fault for that development, taking the mark at his throat and tongue laving over his palm as signs of wanting. a universal weakness, it seems, unless the demon is unique among its kind, inheriting nikolai’s loneliness. in calculating the risks, kaz maximised his chances of self-preservation. well, he advanced his position on the board. perhaps he also tested a new mode of influence, all while giving into a reckless desire for all of nikolai.
rather than explain that, he cuts other truths loose. ]
You bargained with me. [ a one-fingered, rolling gesture. ] As an intermediary for bargaining with yourself. [ you’re the lever. leaning forward, he sets his hand higher on nikolai’s thigh and squeezes, an attempt at assurance. best not to overdo skin-to-skin taction after all nikolai faced yesterday. ] You threatened me. [ one brow arches. ] Unconvincingly, for what it’s worth. [ just saying. a deep breath, gaze flicking down to their fragile grip. ] And you fed from my hand. [ something nikolai will remember, if he hasn’t already, fixating on his bandaged palm like a waypoint. that flash of brilliant green was him, kaz knows it. he swings his eyes up again, swallowing nikolai’s obvious pain. it’s the least he can do. you’ll only make this worse for him now. saints, he knows that. ]
Because you’re not getting better, either. [ for a moment, his eyes are as clear (and visibly pained) as nikolai’s, but kaz blinks it away. surely, nikolai can’t deny a concern that mirrors his own. ] You’re starving — [ his breath catches, and he admonishes himself for it. ] Dying. And death makes all men desperate. [ almost says mad, but nikolai already knows as much. he continues with striking conviction, ] If you want to leave Ketterdam tomorrow, you need to feed tonight. [ a slight shake of his head. ] You can’t be near anyone else until you do. [ let alone caged with them on a ship for weeks. ] I’d wager that half the reason I’m alive is because I’m the one who fed you before.
[ the demon must remember that. call it animal instincts or a deeper understanding of what kaz brekker will do for his people. no need to mention invoking that blood-soaked memory by tipping his hand willingly into the very jaws that could kill him. ] The other half’s down to your piss-poor taste — which is catching. [ whatever made nikolai tenderly take his hand and supplanted bite with kiss is the same force that animates his recurring nightmares. affection seems generous. attachment could be the word. all synonyms for leverage. ]
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I'm not dying. That's ridiculous. [ he says it as if stating the weather, sidestepping his deteriorating mental condition. he's always had ups and downs. this is no different. but if he and the beast are inexorably linked now, then starving the thing will only serve to damage his own self. he thinks to his more frequent slips, the lost time, the moments he's sure he's standing in his own body but uncertain of whose thoughts are crowding his mind. at any moment he could once again lose the ability to touch kaz. doesn't even know how or why he has it back.
his gaze swings up again, this time hard, chafing immediately at what sounds like an order. kaz follows it with unwelcome logic before nikolai can protest, his words held on his tongue as he exhales a tense breath instead. his fingers rub gently over kaz's knuckles, his cold hand finally warming marginally beneath nikolai's touch. ]
You said it bargained with you. For what? [ he lifts his chin, leaning back in his chair. ] To be fed, no doubt. That means starving it is working. So let it die, Brekker. [ the chair scrapes against the floor as he stands suddenly, their clasped grip gently slipping away. he turns back to the kitchen and resumes making a mess of the counter — puffs of flour, eggshells cracked and discarded, sugar licked from his thumb — his expression schooled back into one of morning cheer. ] I won't die with it. Do you want some brandy in your coffee?
[ he brings over a bottle and sets it down beside the writing case, flashing a boyish smile. ] We'll bring the chains aboard the ship. Everything will be fine. Let me handle this.
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The same chains that saved my leg from your claws. [ bitten out before he can stop himself, mug rattling the table. his teeth graze his lower lip, a habit that has the unfortunate byproduct of recalling last night’s bloody kiss. kaz ducks his head and scrubs his face, recomposing himself by force. ] I didn’t — [ mean it, but he did, in this instance. his innate temper reacts poorly with nikolai’s contrived cheeriness, like combining two of wylan’s volatile concoctions. he tilts back in his chair and exhales, gripping the lip of the table. strange, to see his pale flesh stark against the wood. ungloved, unguarded. he pulls the robe tighter. ]
That wasn't your fault. [ fixing nikolai with a glare, he drags a hand through his hair hard enough to disturb its clean lines. ] But what do you think this [ gesturing between them. ] is? [ a temporary reprieve. the vital and ever-dwindling time they have to plan their next move. ] A date? [ boozy coffee and homemade breakfast. comforts that make men soft. his heart flutters, but there’s nowhere for it to go. ] No, what do you think happened last night? [ a quick breath. ] That the demon approached me and asked, politely, if I would consider feeding it merchlings. But — not to worry — a little blood, a bite and a kiss were enough to sate it forevermore. [ he splays his hands, mimicking the prestige of a magic trick. either he managed to comfort nikolai too much for the first time in his life, or this is denial as a means of survival. ]
It demanded to be fed, so I bartered for time, Nikolai. [ eyes fierce until he tears them away, looking askance. ] One night of rest. One day of peace. [ for you. kaz hardly slept, plagued by the waters that nearly drowned them; the blood already taken and still to be spilled. he reaches for the brandy and pours the lot in his coffee. ] That’s all this is.
[ in the event they renege this deal, kaz is more worried for nikolai than himself, but he can’t rule out retaliations. no amount of comorbid care in nikolai’s split self will keep the demon from making its displeasure known. the deal is the deal. breaking it begets consequences. ]
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but it's a well-deserved wounding, perhaps made stronger by the unceasing pain kaz has had to endure since that moment in the cellar. the shroud seems to clear for a moment, a cacophony of violent carnage just out of reach before it goes hazy again, his mind clearing. this hurt is crystalline, bright, sharp as a blade of grisha steel. it's familiar. kaz chafes against these comforts, he knows it, and yet he still endeavors to give them to him in whatever brief moments he can steal away from the constant press of chaos around them. he deserves them, deserves to know what it's like to wake in the morning and not think of death. but maybe he's fumbling this at every turn because he hardly knows the feeling himself. ]
Is it so terrible — [ he exhales softly, his smile pained as if it costs him to keep it there. holding out his cup for kaz to tip the bottle of brandy into his own coffee, ] To pretend for a minute? An hour? You said you bartered for time, so what will you do with it?
[ he looks at him for a moment longer before turning away, flicking a few drops of water into a hot pan and watching them sizzle. presently, the room fills with the aroma of browned sugar as he stacks hot pastries high onto a plate. his appetite has vanished with this conversation, replaced with the dread of knowing he'll have to feed before he boards his ship. merchlings. it's unthinkable that the monster would even suggest such a thing. he doesn't have it in him to inquire on kaz's reaction. he has to believe that kaz knows it's an altogether untenable notion, that nikolai would rather face whatever horrors the monster would inflict upon him than take another life in such a way.
returning to the table feels like a joyless, mechanical task, setting down the blini drizzled with honey and heaped with fresh fruit, but he forces himself to remain calmly composed, unwilling to give in to despair. that’s all this is. a singular day. if the events of last night hadn’t transpired, if the monster hadn’t shown its face and made its demands known, kaz likely wouldn’t have even stayed. but he said he would. nikolai shakes the thought away as a bout of childish whimsy. he is not a child and kaz owes him nothing. not even after what he’d said over the water last night — and what he’d failed to say in return. ]
Stay, if you’d like. But don’t feel as if you must. Not for my sake. [ he perches on the edge of the table and takes a generous swig of coffee, regarding kaz above the rim of his mug. his cheeks are flushed from the heat of the kitchen. ] Do finish that letter, though. If you need me to feed the monster tonight, then I will. But you can’t be in the room. And we’re leaving in the morning.
[ he stands, turns, meaning to walk away. he’s still shirtless, after all, the blood cleaned up but his wounds still bare, and he’s hardly interested in any argument kaz might presently broach, but something makes him turn back around, his glib demeanor replaced with something flinty. the type of rage sitting hot in his chest isn’t the sort for lashing out, instead leaving him weak with a wretched fear as he leans down, his scarred hand pressed flat to the table, his hazel eyes wild with barely contained emotion. ]
Why didn’t you stop it? [ his voice is a hoarse whisper, his brows pulled taut. ] Do you really mean to tell me that of all the times you didn’t have a pistol or a damned blade hidden up your sleeve — that the monster showed up and threatened you and you chose words instead of force? What the hell were you thinking, Brekker? How could you be so fucking reckless? That thing is not me. It’s only a matter of time before it hurts you in a way that you haven’t even thought about. [ an unsteady breath, his eyes burning with anguish — ] You cannot be afraid to hurt me, because it is not afraid to hurt you.
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If it’s not you, then you weren’t there. [ voice suddenly small. he was left to face a grisha demon on his own. his shoulders lift and settle, trying to work through that hateful weakness. there hasn’t been anyone to protect him since jordie’s terminal failure. to hope someone else would undertake that rotten work is worse than naivety — it's damnation. expelling a breath, kaz manges to lift his tone back to its usual scrape. ] What trick could I have up my sleeve? [ a sideways glance, hurt glinting, there and gone. ] In your room, your clothes, your bed. [ those are odds are stacked against him before he accounts for his affliction and aggravated injuries. nikolai told him it was safe to rest, but you’re the pathetic skiv who listened. he drags his thumbnail up his throat, retracing the path taken to his tender bruise. that’s the cost of pretending — of playing at romantic dates like last night and this morning. he wasn’t meant to have these things.
as if in divine punishment for his thoughts (or because he hasn't eaten since before he was violently ill and tapped for blood), his stomach growls. a perfect capper for this ridiculous affair. it belatedly occurs to him that nikolai hasn’t made himself any food after all that trouble. he cuts into his blini, lavish in the way all things nikolai tries to give him are, but only nudges it around his plate. it reminds him of how jordie would always return with hot chocolate, regardless of whether they could afford it. ]
I’m staying. [ he finally tips a meagre splash of brandy into nikolai’s coffee and no more, setting it aside. ] I do need you. [ a statement kaz fights to let hang, multiple meanings held inside it. as clever as he is, he can’t face the demon alone. why would nikolai think, even for a second, that he could? his stomach sinks. because he believes in you. he almost takes nikolai’s hand, his bandaged palm resting beside nikolai’s scarred fingers on the table. it was nikolai who pulled away last — who said he can’t take what kaz has never dared offer to anyone else. that should be the end of his heartsicknesses. ]
Will you join me for breakfast? [ finally, he takes a bite. a difficult to place expression crosses his face, still turned away. another bite, and he turns his head, jaw softening. ] Please. [ steady hands carve another neat square and skewer it, offering it to nikolai. ] I’d like to spend this time with you, without pretending. [ since nikolai asked, even if the question was intended rhetorically. ] To be near you, if you’ll allow it. [ how many times can nikolai reject that particular desire without snuffing it? ] To tend your wounds, as soon as we’re done here. [ his teeth snag the inside of his cheek, skin raw and tingling. ] To keep my promise to share what happened last night, so that we can devise a plan to deal with the fallout together — rather than wait for another of your lodger’s surprise negotiations. [ as lovely as being held down and having jagged fangs at his throat has been, there’s an argument to be made for alternative arrangements. normally, kaz wouldn’t say twice is a pattern, but the familiar ache in his arm from being pinned back and a fresh bruise in the same place marked the first time are difficult data to dismiss, however anecdotal. ] And you?
[ what does nikolai lantsov want? somehow, kaz doubts he has an answer. ]
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he sees his mistake now. all of this. the way the sunlight touches kaz's bare skin, unguarded. the way this could be a scene from any of the countless novels he's read, silly fictions from his youth. the way he's built this fabrication of a home when the truth sits just beneath every breath he takes, that he doesn't have one anymore. and he'd brought kaz here with promises he couldn't keep. a single night of rest, of safety. a lie. there are no safe places anymore.
wordlessly, he sinks back down into the seat beside him. tries to think. he said he would make this right. he has to find a way. kaz speaks again, and nikolai looks at him, unsure if it's tender relief or an awful chafing misery he feels at his words. maybe a bit of both. he doesn't know if he should believe them, because it's becoming increasingly clear that kaz would be much better off far away from here — perhaps a part of him would be more lost because of it, but the whole of him would be, at the very least, alive. isn't that what matters? i do need you is simply not true. he only thinks it is. kaz had been better off before he’d ever tended to his wounds on his ship all that time ago. hadn’t he?
nikolai leans forward, ignoring the offered fork, his eyes flickering over the bruise once more. then he rests his forehead against kaz’s shoulder, a heavy sigh going out of him as his eyes slip closed, all his strength threatening to bleed out. for a long, quiet moment he allows himself this, his hands coming up to slide gently along the sharp planes of kaz’s hips, feeling the familiar lines of his body through the fabric of his robe, careful of his wounds. he smells like blood and salt, and after another slow breath, another thought: he smells like the water, which perhaps he resents, but nikolai presses his lips to his collarbone for the briefest of moments, the gentlest of touches, and tastes the sea.
when he pulls back, the boyish softness from his eyes has gone, replaced with the sharp focus of a man who once commanded armies, who held a nation together by ingenuity and the force of his own will. a man familiar with setting aside his own wants, of going without comfort, of remaining separate out of necessity. kaz is a man, and he is a monster, and he would do well to remember that. the grin he offers is the fox’s grin, not the sweet, earnest smile that kaz has pulled out of him so many times before. ]
No more pretending, then. [ not said unkindly, but it’s firm, resolute, as if he’s made up his mind about something without consulting kaz in the process. his demeanor turns serious. ] I put you in danger for my own selfish whims. I will not ask forgiveness for that. I will endeavor to earn it instead. But know that I’m sorry that I left you to face the worst parts of me alone and unarmed.
You said there’s more. So tell me what happened. [ he takes a breath, then draws kaz’s injured leg into his lap, elevating it gently. this isn’t prolonging the fantasy — it’s simply practical. when he settles his hand carefully against his thigh, he’s surprised to find the beat of his pulse less jarring than expected, more like a gentle comfort. ] This time is yours, Brekker. You earned it with your life. I would give you anything you asked.
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[ mildly, ] I doubt that. [ impossible, that he earned his life back, when he promised things he has no right to offer. improbable, that nikolai would give him anything he asked. having witnessed how the monster feeds and the toll it enacts on his person, kaz sees why nikolai abhors sating it at all. while the slight quirk of kaz’s mouth hints at acceptance, shrewd eyes watch for tells. he hasn’t seen that grin on nikolai’s face since it caught the sunlight on the bow of his ship. the too-clever fox, not to be trusted. ] All I did was dirty my hands. [ in an instant, he has his composure rebalanced on a dagger's edge. his face hardens, jaw set in defiance. ]
It wants to feed every seven days. [ human flesh. a nonstarter that would renew nikolai’s spiralling. his present steadiness may be yet another mask, worn for kaz’s benefit. he reaches out to brush nikolai’s hair behind his ear, keenly aware that another wedge may be driven between them in moments. ] It said it took everything from you. [ his hand falls away. even the key details disclosed thus far must unsettle nikolai, with how they ascribe an independent voice to the demon. ] Your sleep, your clarity in waking life — [ a tight breath. ] Me. [ he lifts his coffee to his mouth and, much to his relief, the brandy burns his throat. ] Every time I glimpsed it before, it tried to push me away from you. I thought it might wish to isolate you… Then I wondered if it could share your desire to protect me through distance. [ he purses his mouth. another sip, and he places the mug on the table gingerly. ] In the cellar, it asked who marked me on the job. [ protective per his theory — or possessive? ] Last night, it had me. [ by the throat, as good as dead. ] But it only left the same bruise as before. [ a faint flush, high in his cheeks. ] And it targeted my hand, where I was already injured. [ to exploit a vulnerability or minimise the damage? his heartbeat ratchets suddenly, the truth locked behind his teeth. ]
It said I was your lever, which would mean I'm also its lever, if used correctly. [ a final hesitation, blinked away. ] The kiss was my hunch. [ an all-or-nothing bet, bloodying his mouth to heighten the offer and the stakes. ] It worked. [ because all it did was kiss and kiss and kiss him. like nikolai. licking the blood from his mouth, teeth sharp and voice serrated. won't offer an apology for inviting this dangerous intimacy. the demon has been weaponising closeness since their first encounter (leaving him paralysed by the tongue at his throat, limbs locked and hand gouged aboard the volkvolny). until yesterday, kaz hadn’t been able to harness that momentum. ] But — [ the wounded noise on nikolai’s lips echoes in his skull. the question he could barely ask lingering since it was stuttered. ] I’m sorry I did that to you, Nikolai. [ there are some secrets even kaz brekker can’t keep. nikolai deserves to know that he's the worst sort of liar and thief, wielding anything he can pick up and carry. ]
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You doubt it because it's the easy way out — [ a quirked brow, a glint in his eye, ] For someone who still hasn't mastered asking for the wants you keep hidden in your heart. [ not to be trusted, indeed. but it's easier — less painful — to think of it in these terms, as a muscle to be stretched and tested than the things he wishes they could have if they were ordinary men. something to be learned instead of something to be given. ] And I don't mean a request for nearness or a shared breakfast. I mean the things you think about when you're alone.
[ he doesn't look away when kaz continues, the easy set of his jaw tightening just slightly as his mind races at the implications of his words. every seven days. he almost laughs aloud at the thought, his fingers rubbing pensively at the morning stubble at his chin. his breath quivers for a brief moment when kaz's careful fingers curl behind his ear. it took everything from you. very nearly so. he touches kaz's bandaged leg, letting his fingers linger. it's unsettling to hear that there's so much shared between kaz and the monster, that it has its own thoughts on kaz brekker, its own feelings and desires. he's just a lever, nothing more. and yet it had kissed him back, that much he's certain of, because of the way he'd woken with the shock of kaz's lips against his. ]
Don't. Don't apologize for it. [ he tilts his head, gesturing to the plate. it'll get cold if kaz doesn't eat, and he needs his strength, having drained his blood into the water, onto the sheets, down the monster's throat — his throat. his stomach turns, and he reaches for the brandy kaz had been rather ungenerous with, pouring a hefty splash into his nearly empty cup. ] I may have a questionable sense of honor, but the monster has none at all. Thinking of me when you're attempting to strategize against it will only serve to hinder you. We both know you're far too clever for that.
[ he reaches into the writing case for a worn, folded map, smoothing it out onto the table, one blackened fingertip tracing a path from ketterdam to djerholm. ] You say it wishes to feed every seven days, but it’s, frankly, highly improbable that we’ll reach a weekly port, considering Kerch is located conveniently in the middle of nowhere. That is to say, impossible. We’ll make several stops — I’ll ask Ehri for passage into Shu Han so we can replenish our supplies, and then we’ll stop several more times along the western coast of Ravka. [ his heart gives an uncomfortable little thump at the thought of seeing zoya again. of course she would come. wouldn’t she? ] So, if we’re seriously considering entertaining this ludicrous request at all, that means we’ll have to store an adorable little family of deer or such ilk in cargo, preferably alive, which is an unambiguously deplorable idea, or we allow the monster the freedom to leave the ship to hunt on its own. Which is the only worse idea than bringing a noisome and foul-smelling farm onto my ship.
That begs the question — [ he looks up again, still parsing through the glut of information about the night prior. the monster left only the same bruises on kaz, exploited an existing injury instead of creating a new one — a courtesy not extended to his own body. if the thing has somehow developed some sort of hateful fondness for brekker, if indeed he’s correct and there is something to be leveraged here… they can hardly afford not to use it. and the thought leaves this rather exquisite brandy turning sour on his tongue. ] If I ignore this hefty demand, what are the consequences? Did it give you an ultimatum? [ he pinches the bridge of his nose, heaving out a sigh. ] You may have to barter again. [ then, softer, regret in his voice, ] Prepared, this time.
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[ arching his brows, ] Careful, Lantsov. [ the things he’s been thinking about on his own may very well have led them here. if nothing else, sharing those desires with nikolai worsened the fractures in the delusion that was holding him together. ] If I repeat my wants, you’ll have to drown yourself in the sink. [ instead of diving into the depths. in all matters related to the demon, nikolai has been forgiven without second thought. in the matter of his twice-fold rejection last night, however — ] I’d hold you under myself, but you’d enjoy it too much. [ his mouth tugs slightly downward, not allowed to express the extent of his displeasure. ]
[ the sun rises higher in the sky, afternoon light washing over them. when nikolai finally answers him, he stills. don’t apologise. a long-held breath escapes him. he keeps himself from saying the instinctive, wanting response, hard not to think of you. kaz thinks of nikolai whether or not he has him in hand, and certainly with his mouth pressed against his, even as every hungry push hit at an unfamiliar angle. he resumes nudging his food around the plate, listening but not looking until nikolai slides the map into his peripheral vision.
despite their miserable circumstances, it’s thrilling to have this part of nikolai back: his brilliant mind set to an impossible puzzle. the stops range from interesting — ehri and her beautiful treasury — to unpleasant — zoya and her thunderous disappointment. a couple bites of his breakfast save him from thoughtless contributions. if it were his decision, kaz would drag nikolai’s dinner on board and sail non-stop to finish this. it isn’t. it can’t be, given the uniquely personal terrors involved (and how reluctant nikolai has been to lift himself out of stagnation to act until now, besides).
at the prospect of scheming, his eyes brighten. his gaze meets nikolai’s once again, assessing his seriousness. after a pause, he shrugs into an off-handed answer. ]
Something about us both dying horribly. [ to be expected of the demon, and of himself, frankly. thieves like him never die peacefully. he speaks slowly, each word measured and selected. ] If you feed tonight, that’s a good-faith offering. Proof you can be swayed — and that I can be trusted. [ strengthening the link between kaz brekker and survival. ] That buys us at least seven days. [ the timing beyond that will prove tricky, especially when they’re reneging the other notable condition of the deal. human flesh. ] The demon wants to be useful — the way it was to you in the war — and, perhaps, not to be alone, but food is the only currency that we know it understands. [ he rests his chin on his hand, elbow propped on the table. ] If we’re withholding it, even out of necessity — we need to sweeten the deal. [ a pointed look seems to hint that he knows nikolai won’t like any of the plans that occur to him. ] Let it feed on me, the way it did last night, until we find a better solution.
[ nikolai will want this to be temporary, if he can stomach it at all. what else does kaz brekker have to offer? a strange closeness? a kind of understanding of the demon’s role? another kiss? all juvenile, compared to a basic need delivered in an appealing fashion. ]
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That’s not what I meant. I wanted you to ask for a way in which I could still be useful to you. [ a quiet sigh, as he pulls a hand through his hair and rests his knuckles against his mouth, looking at him steadily. ] I kissed you, rather unwisely, there in the water. [ kaz should remember. then again, he’s not sure what the recollection of the night looks like in kaz’s feverish thoughts, dragged into his worst nightmares once again. guilt sears his lungs like a bitingly cold breath of air. ] I didn’t try to get away from you because of what you said. The demon tried to take over as soon as I touched you. [ with some effort, he relaxes his demeanor, his brow quirking as he swiftly glosses over the obvious — that he might’ve died if kaz hadn’t been able to brave the depths and fish him out. none of it would’ve happened at all if he hadn’t foolishly tried to indulge in his hopeless fantasies again and again. ] Maybe the monster does like you.
[ but still he doesn’t say it, those words that had come spilling out of kaz last night as if contained for too long. can’t or won’t or a combination of both. there’s no sense in pretending anything good can come out of it, no sense in dwelling on something that they’re not meant to have. the monster will take everything. this short reprieve is only because kaz gave it something — a ridiculous promise, sealed in blood. he studies kaz from the corner of his eye, watches him pick at his food and shift his expression as they go through their options. something feels off, still, as if he’s missing a piece of this picture. for all his protests, they can bring livestock onto the ship. they’d have to be careful, come up with a story, limit access to the hold. it would be far from ideal, a messy, gruesome affair, but one that they could, possibly, pull off. and kaz has never been one to balk from a little mess.
nikolai’s gaze sharpens, his mind whirring. dying horribly is as vague as it gets, and he doubts the monster used those words. he listens in silence, trying to pick through what he’s not saying, trying to understand why it isn’t enough to lock nikolai in the cellar of the safe house and toss him some hapless animal to devour in the dark — and then kaz says it, and the sudden truth rushes through him like a current of zoya’s lightning.
he doesn’t want to believe it. doesn’t believe it for a long moment, as silence falls between them with the force of a thunderclap, but no other words come, and nikolai can conjure no other reasonable explanations now that he’s stumbled upon the only one that makes sense. we need to sweeten the deal. why, if they’re giving the monster the same thing that’s always satisfied it until now? because it’s no longer satisfied with creatures from the wilderness. it has always had a taste for human flesh. that’s where this nightmare began all those years ago, and he simply fooled himself into thinking he could escape this unending refrain. ]
It doesn’t want livestock anymore. Does it? [ he pins kaz with a hard gaze, calm only from years of experience with not losing his head every time a part of the sky comes crashing down on him. he lied to you. is it a lie to omit the truth, perhaps to spare his feelings, or more likely because kaz thought he couldn’t handle it? yes. there’s an ocean he leaves unsaid, sudden hurt swimming in his flinty gaze, that kaz would leave him to wonder about any of this when his grasp of these moments is tenuous at best, his memories constantly shifting and ever unreliable. this is why they’re having this conversation at all, that it isn’t just a simple matter of demanding that nikolai feed like a damned dog to keep the monster sated — in true kaz brekker form — why kaz has slowly but surely steered them here, to this end.
he chokes down his ire, his expression splintering to thorns, angry with kaz in this particular way perhaps for the very first time. a feat, considering how maddening he can be. ]
I don’t like to be led. [ his voice low, hard. impossible to keep the tremor out, from rage or fear or hurt, he doesn’t know which. the monster wants humans. that knowledge in itself is shattering. he stands abruptly from the table, careful not to jostle kaz’s leg, unable to stand another moment of this farce. leaving kaz without another word, he returns to his bedroom and tries to wrangle control of his racing thoughts, his eyes falling to the bloodied sheets. without thinking, he begins to strip the bed bare, tossing the soiled linens to the floor. there’s an unbearable pressure in his chest, panic trying to spring free at the brand new thoughts crowding his mind — death, the soft give of flesh, and above all kaz’s lips against his, warm and slick with his blood. ]
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i don’t want to be led recurs in his mind. you don’t want to helped he counters to himself. resolve strengthening, kaz stands to tidy the mess nikolai left behind and ignores the pain in his leg. it’s almost grounding, a new constant in his life. or the only one you’ve ever known. in truth, he lacked a grand plan in this conversation, adjusting to the changes of the tide. nikolai refused to feed every seven days, so he cut to an alternative — one that might close the weeks spent aboard the ship for his sake. but you’re kaz brekker, always scheming and plotting, with trick after trick up your sleeve. he should be glad that even nikolai believes the myth. if his lies keep nikolai from applying tenderness to his wounds or trying to kiss him out of obligation (a desire to be useful, not wanted, the way kaz wants and wants wants), it’s for the best. kaz need only urge him to fjerda and then back to ravka, where he belongs, with warmer hands and sweeter mouths to welcome him.
annoyance piqued, kaz abandons his efforts to search for his clothes from last night, finding his own shirt, wrinkled but still wearable, and some trousers of nikolai’s. by the time he drags himself to nikolai’s room, cane thudding all the way, he appears presentable.
when nikolai fails to acknowledge his entrance, still bent over the bed, kaz clears his throat. ]
The way you wish to be useful to me… [ kissing him, touching him, tending his wounds and unlocking the desires kept hidden for so long. he freezes inside the entryway, one hand on the doorframe and the other on his cane. for a long moment, his next words jumble in his mind, and he hangs his head. ] I don’t want that without the rest. [ a hitch in his throat. ] I can’t. [ an unmatched ache and sudden relief collide as he finally says it. having nikolai the way he offers, all while sentiment fills his heart, his lungs, his throat — it’s like drowning. ] I can do anything else. [ he can be the monster or the thing on which it feeds. a resource to be used, clever as the devil. a companion, if nikolai still desires his poison tongue. a little too quick (too desperate), then — ] I’m not going anywhere. [ staying, just not in his arms, in his bed. maybe this will be better for nikolai, too, no longer worrying about how kaz fits, when it’s clear there’s no place for him. ]
For what it’s worth, I’d rather cart an entire farm across the sea than subject you to the demon’s desire for human flesh. [ though he’s loathe to admit it, his omissions make him guilty of the very charges he levelled against nikolai yesterday: lying out of a desire to protect the person he cares for and foolishly facing the thing in the dark on his own. ] But you lead. I’ll follow.
[ wont to disappear without nikolai’s acknowledgment, he waits for a response. ]
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kaz appears in the doorway then — not gone, keeping his promise — and a gristly image superimposes atop his form. bloodsoaked, his skin whiter than a ghost, eyes empty. not the demon’s doing, just nikolai’s imagination running towards the worst possible end. he shuts his eyes, a visible tremor going through him as he recoils, his fingers tightening as he yanks the goose down pillows from the bed and adds them to the bloodied heap on the floor.
kaz speaks before he can tell him to leave, nikolai’s spine stiffening as if he wants to turn and go to him. the ache in his words is palpable, the hitch in his breath sending a painful pang through nikolai’s chest. the same pressure from the night before builds now, the urge to say something right, to tell him the truth of what grows inside of him. tell him you love him. he sags suddenly, his hands splayed on the bare mattress, stark black against soft white. ]
You must think I don’t want this. Us. [ he despises the weakness in his voice, the way it’s kaz who has been left time and time again to face the horrors of the monster alone while nikolai can’t get these simple words out. ] You. [ he’s silent again, his heart trying to escape his chest, fingers slowly curling into the mattress. what if he does feed and this compromise is not enough? what if the monster takes back what it thinks it’s owed — everything — and he finds he can no longer touch kaz until he gives in and takes a human life? then he will have squandered this time away for nothing, time he’s not sure will ever come again — just like those days in os alta, watching kaz like a phantom, a slow disappearing act right before his eyes.
he bridges the distance then, looking every bit a madman — still shirtless, his wounds only half tended to, unkempt hair falling into his wild eyes. he sounds breathless when he speaks, as if he’s crossed miles instead of a few steps, staring at kaz balanced in his doorway. there’s no hesitation when he reaches out this time, his hands cradling his face so he can look into his eyes, the rush of anguish that fills his chest entirely his own. ]
Do you think that I can do anything with you and not feel the rest? [ he doesn’t want the answer. he knows he placed those doubts in kaz’s head himself despite wanting so badly to guard his heart. ] That I could ever touch you, kiss you, look at you and not feel — [ his fingers slide down the sharp planes of his cheeks, caressing the lines of his jaw. one hand ghosts to his throat, his hand stilling over the dark bruise. he tilts kaz’s jaw up and leans in, his lips suddenly ghosting over his mottled skin. ] That I could somehow divorce touch and the depth of what I feel for you — Kaz, even if the monster never let me touch you again, if it was the only one that ever got close enough to feel you, I would never stop feeling this way for you. And I would never want to.
[ he can’t get close enough, pressing kaz’s spine to the doorframe, distantly hearing his cane thud carelessly to the floor. one arm winds around his waist, bracing kaz against him as his mouth finds his for a desperate kiss, having ached for this for so long that he can barely hold himself back. ]
You can’t tell me to lead. [ his fingers tremble as they card through kaz’s dark hair and come to rest at his cheek once more, words dropping to a whisper between kisses. ] Because if it were up to me I would say to hell with all of this. I don’t care what’s coming for me. I would board my ship with you and show you the entire world and never come back. And I would love you with all the days that I have left. [ he laughs suddenly, a soft, aching sound as he presses his face to kaz’s hair to give him a moment to breathe, a moment to pull away if he needs to. ] You can’t tell me you’d follow such madness.
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until nikolai looks at him, eyes blazing without a speck of black to mar them. old instincts straighten kaz’s spine, jaw angled up for a fight. his fingers curl into fist, balanced against the doorframe. the hands on his face knock every thought off its track. a flicker of hurt escapes the crack in his wary mask. he forces himself to take a long breath, hand lifting from the door to nikolai’s forearm, unsure whether he intends to guide it away or hold it there. the distress crumpling nikolai’s features stalls any action. where would he go, when nikolai is here?
as nikolai mouths over his bruise, guilt and relief sear down his spine. hard to say what touch feels like for others, when it remains inherently overwhelming for kaz, imbued with meaning. there is no touch without risk (and its corollary, trust). no taction short of devastating (galvanising). nikolai’s words — the depth of what i feel you — prove just as rattling, the answer to the question he’s been asking since novyi zem. no, since nikolai kissed him in the captain’s quarters, as if he were a desirable thing. his words are a revelation with the force of a crashing wave, kaz, not brekker. nikolai has been closer than anyone (only the demon nips at his heels). a truth he seems to acknowledge without nudging him towards alternative hopes, for a change.
he drops his cane, but only realises it from the clatter against the floor. can’t help but think about how foolish that is — to drop his only weapon and support so that he can thread a hand into nikolai’s hair and throw an arm around his shoulders, to keep him there, kissing him breathless. there are no safe places, including here, in these arms. it’s easier to scold himself for that than face the words tumbling from nikolai’s perfect mouth. i would love you ringing, hallucination made real. that laugh in his ear — he tips his head back against the frame, angle harsh enough that he can see with his eyes half-closed. silent, invisible calculations in his head. ]
[ quiet, then. ] Are you hoping I’ll say no? [ another trap in which kaz brekker provides the escape, free of charge. no one but nikolai would recognise the unease tucked in the tick of his voice. kaz pushes through it. ] You won’t lead. You won’t be led. [ he drags a hand down nikolai’s collar, just shy of his fresh wounds, and then reverses course to cup his cheek. ] What am I supposed to do with you? [ besides this, tugging him in for a resurgent kiss and then another, fingers twisting into the short hair at the nape of his neck. ] You’ve been mad from the start. [ touching the bastard of the barrel after a dust-up, as if that’s the done thing. he closes his eyes and catches his breath, quieting the crackle of intimacy and lingering confessions. ]
I’d keep a hand on the wheel. You know that. [ can’t give over control completely, always angling and ever ready for the tide to change. it’s not quite an answer, but then nikolai didn’t ask a question. eyes opening, he tips his head forward. ] Does that sound like madness?
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he can't. not now. but looking at him now, sleepless and shadowed, the stench of blood still clinging to this room, he knows that allowing the demon to prey on him can only be a fleeting solution. once only. he lifts a finger and traces the pad his thumb beneath kaz's eye, his fingertip barely brushing the bottom of his dark lashes. after this voyage, after they reach fjerda, he can't rule out a painful untethering. not when he can't guarantee that a more permanent answer will ever present itself after all.
but of this he says nothing, because there are other promises he needs to extract first. he tugs kaz from the doorframe, mindful of the time he’s spent standing, their lips meeting in slow harmony as he guides him into the room. stripping the bed all for a little blood now feels a touch foolish, the mattress bare and uninviting, so he brings kaz to the floor instead, lowered into a mountain of pillows and sheets he’d thrown down in his discomfited tantrum. he can hardly bring himself to take a breath for want of kissing him, his eyes fluttering open to slide a pillow beneath kaz’s knee before he’s concentrated on his mouth again, hand cradling his cheek as he braces kaz gently against the side of the bed, leaning in like he’ll never be able to get close enough. ]
I trust you. [ to keep a hand on the wheel. he’ll need to, when nikolai is buried deep inside himself and unable to be his safety in the way he’s always endeavored. the kiss breaks, but he doesn’t move away, his eyes shuttered. it’s easier this way when he knows what he’s going to ask won’t be met with enthusiasm. his fingers glide slowly down kaz’s cheek, coming to rest at the curve of his throat, his thumb brushing over his bruised skin. ] But you have to make me a promise. Promise that you’ll defend yourself in any means necessary. That you won’t hesitate just because this thing is in my body, wearing my face. Swear it to me. [ he finally pulls back, taking kaz’s bandaged hand and pressing it to his heart, the wounds at his chest stinging beneath kaz’s fingers. ] Swear to me that I won’t wake up to find your body robbed of life by the monster. I would rather die. Swear that you’ll kill me first.
[ his hazel eyes are clear, steady. the only regret he feels is that he knows these demands are too great a burden to place upon anyone, that these words will sit like a serrated blade in kaz’s lungs each time he takes a breath. kaz will not forgive him, if it ever comes to this brutal end, but there are many crimes nikolai knows he’ll never earn forgiveness for. he doesn’t look away, gaze fixed on kaz’s eyes, bright sapphire only made more piercing with pain. ]
I will not kill for the monster. [ he’s done it enough, so many times that he’ll never be able to put a number to the lives he’s taken or absolve himself of this sin. he won’t add to it. ] And I will not feed from you unless you agree to my terms. This is not a barter.
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another time, he might unpick how nikolai sometimes speaks of the demon as part of him, while others, he refers to it as wholly separate. can barely focus on thoughts splintering from the present, with how nikolai drags him to a potential future. this is what he trusts you to do. his own pulse thuds in his ears, accelerated and magnified by nikolai’s heart beating beneath his palm. his other hand cradles nikolai’s skull, tugging it forward. ]
[ in a whisper made harsh by the gravel in his throat, ] I know. [ nikolai would rather die than kill again. if it came down to him or nikolai, any unselfish gambit would doom them both. he tilts his head until their foreheads press together, blue eyes more alert than they’ve been all morning. ] I swear, Nikolai. If it comes to that, I’ll kill you first. [ that scenario plays out against his will: nikolai’s teeth at his throat, the knife in his hand, his body suddenly limp against him. he wants to beg for an alternative, any promise that won’t send him hurtling back to the start — no, further along the winding path he took to power. ] The deal is the deal. [ ground out, despite every protest in his heart. a kiss seals it, hard and desperate. his memory of last night's ploy refracts in the afternoon sun. it won’t end that way, he reminds himself. if the demon wanted to kill him, it would have seized the opportunity to do so before now. it might yet kill someone else, dissatisfied with kaz’s offering. he'll have to force it to understand. bloodshed all but guarantees its end. and kaz brekker, untrustworthy and fractious as he is, can repay what’s been lost. his lips brush nikolai’s cheek, suddenly chaste. ]
Go get the kit. Can't have a scratch ending you before all that. [ less vitally, it allows him time to re-arrange all the trembling thoughts in his mind. if it comes down to him or nikolai, he can make the call (the kill). it’d be no different from his life up to this point. better to view everything he’s had in the last year as the exception and not the rule. he tidies his hair, though he suspects (hopes) nikolai will dishevel it again. ] You didn’t answer me earlier. [ at breakfast. once he has the kit in hand, he’s quick to dab at nikolai’s wounds without warning, the burn of disinfectant chasing his nimble fingers. ] Is this all you want today? [ from there, he unwinds the bandages and jerks his head to call nikolai closer. his good leg bends to leverage himself straighter, so he can wrap the crimson cuts on nikolai’s chest. ] And tonight?
[ a murkier concept. his gaze meets nikolai’s before returning to his work, movements precise. ]
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is this all he wants? it feels like an impossible question to answer, the sort of thing he hasn’t bothered being truthful about in years. he’s always wanted more, always craved more attention, more affection, and it’s no different now, his fingers restless as they travel along the fabric of kaz’s shirt, holding as still as he’s able while his wounds are tended. there’s a careful sort of hunger in kaz’s gaze, something that twists knots in nikolai’s stomach, and he can’t help but feel as though kaz is leading him even now, but in this way he doesn’t mind quite so much. ]
I should be asking you that, since you’ve yet to master voicing your desires at will. [ kaz’s hands are efficient but gentle, his fingertips cool when they brush bare skin. when the work of the bandages is done, nikolai strays nearer still, greedy for the sight of him like this, boyishly undone. he flicks open the buttons of kaz’s shirt, knowing that he should be doing precisely the opposite, that there are affairs that need seeing to before their voyage, but the rising need between them feels heightened in its urgency, and for more than just a touch or a kiss.
when he brings their mouths together this time he slips his tongue past kaz’s lips, slowly seeking entrance, his fingers threading gently through his dark hair. he allows himself this moment, unhurried, the full weight of his want poured into one kiss. kaz’s mouth tastes like honey — and sudden copper when his tongue brushes a tender cut at the inside of his cheek, a brief tang of blood. he remembers waking to the hot, salty kiss sealed in blood and draws in a sharp breath, tensing. but he also feels the afternoon sunlight warming the back of his neck, hears kaz’s soft promise still ringing in his ears. i’m not going anywhere. ]
When you feel me— [ his voice is just a whisper, his eyes closed as his hands travel down kaz’s body, fingers drawing slowly down the hard planes of his chest, tracing over the cage of his ribs and dipping down to loosen his trousers. his lips relocate to his cheek, his jaw, nudging his head up so he can kiss along the line of his throat, charting a path that cuts directly over the bruise. ] My hands, my mouth — [ his palm presses to his cock, flooded with the sudden realization that he has not touched kaz in so long that he aches for it now, his mouth seeking his lips once more. ] Is it me you feel? Or is it —
[ the words are swallowed in a desperate kiss, loathing that this doubt plagues his mind, that the monster has taken even this from him. ]
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nikolai does his damndest to keep still while kaz cares for him, and his heart kicks up in his chest at the thought of the effort required. i should be asking you is such a predictable response that he huffs a laugh. ghezen forbid nikolai lantsov ever answers one of his questions. kaz forces a frown as he knots the bandage atop nikolai’s shoulder. he was hoping nikolai might offer a plan for the demon’s dinner tonight before distracting him, but admitting that’s what he was asking about would only lend credence to nikolai’s fixation on his unattended, fledgling wants. what sort of person thinks of logistics and death, while he has this in hand? (they do, of course.)
when nikolai ducks into his space, kaz gives in, leaning against the mattress and straightening his leg. here’s a hand in his hair that he didn’t have to ask for — not just touching but holding. they should be making preparations for the voyage, but every instinct is inverted with nikolai. rather than stiffening, his tongue running across his mouth activates an unlocking. kaz sighs into nikolai’s mouth, brandied where it was bloody only this morning. much more familiar. can feel nikolai notice the raw ridge in his cheek. wonders, then, what he makes of it and receives an answer as it pulls him taught as a high-wire. should guide him across, without any abrupt shifts, but there are pathetic rattles in his cavernous mind. with what i am, what i’ve done, what wants me, do you still — his hands trace the bandages, then wander lower, thumb dragging down the divot in nikolai’s lower back until it reaches his trousers. kaz hooks his fingers into the waistband, sliding around to unlace his front. he slows as nikolai stumbles: whisper off-kilter, lips pressed to the bruise he shouldn’t have allowed. that the demon keeps re-marking every chance it gets. like nikolai. not like nikolai. a dark, wanting thing. like you. a chill runs through him, icy as the black waters.
he’s distracted enough that the hand on his cock wins a soft sound, unstoppered. both hands settle at nikolai’s hips, urging him nearer, into his lap like the last time they were close. immediately, it’s clear what he can’t quite ask. all his nerves teeter on edge. you put that doubt in his heart. they’re kissing before kaz can answer, and then they’re kissing again because he can’t get enough after going without. might not have this in the morning, if the demon finds their offering lacking. and if it accepts? he shivers, grip tightening. ]
It’s you. [ an assurance gifted with urgency in the seconds between open-mouthed kisses, eyes screwed shut. every stray thought returns to nikolai, even the ones that begin with his shadow circle back to him. ] Whenever anyone tries to come close, even when it isn’t you — [ that’s harder to explain, tainted with madness. when the demon drags cold down his skin and sinks its teeth into his flesh, the knowledge that it’s still nikolai, if only in part, keeps him from sinking into the harbour. he nuzzles into nikolai’s cheek, affection overflowing ] It’s always you. [ most likely, nikolai does and doesn’t want such an answer. before it gets caught and twisted in his paradoxical mind, kaz pulls his hips downward and arches up to meet them. ]
Want you to leave a mark. [ a hushed request hung on a hitching breath. maybe then they’ll both think of that and not its mirror image. but what if nikolai says no? perhaps he can’t after it did that, too. this is the trouble with voicing his desires. better to revisit one that nikolai let slip. ] I want to give you what you begged for last time we were together, too. [ weeks ago now, probably with half-a-hope that kaz would forget he said anything so needful. he slips his hand into nikolai’s loosened trousers, cupping his ass. ] Do you still — [ want him, want that, or has the third entity in this entanglement changed where they stand? ]
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and still kaz gifts him with this. it's you. doesn't matter which you — perhaps kaz doesn’t see his fragments and masks the way nikolai does, donning them to feel like a wholly different man — only that kaz sees him and not it. his breath chokes suddenly — it’s always you — but he kisses him harder, only bereft of his mouth when kaz asks for something more, and nikolai doesn’t hesitate for even a moment, the thought of saying no never crossing his mind. an immediate reward for voicing a desire, his mouth finds a soft, hidden spot inches beneath kaz’s earlobe, teeth scraping against flesh before he sucks sharply, leaving a mark on the opposite side of his throat that his collar will neatly cover. he kisses the reddened skin, soothing it over with his tongue, and is diligently on his way to kissing along the whole of his jawline when kaz speaks again, effectively stalling his mouth.
yes, a part of him wishes he’d forgotten. a flush floods his cheeks, shame and desire warming him in equal parts, but for better or for worse, kaz never forgets anything. he wanted this — still wants this, to give every part of himself, to have this with kaz. when he asked before he’d been smarting with hurt and anger, reeking of desperation upon seeing kaz after such a prolonged absence (after walking into an empty room). arching into kaz’s touch, ever mindful of his injury, he kisses him while trying to tame the flight of nerves rushing through him. ]
Do I still what? Want this? [ it won’t do to let that doubt fester. the darkness has spread far past his own self to now infect kaz as well, but whatever his feelings about the shifting ground beneath them, there are some things even the monster can’t change. ] I want everything with you. For as long as I can have it. [ pulling his hand from kaz’s trousers, he grinds their hips together, his cavernous need eclipsing, for now, the unease of vulnerability. by some stroke of luck or the favor of the saints, kaz still wants him — doesn’t look at him as the fearsome, detestable thing that lives inside him, that’s become so much a part of him that nikolai doesn’t know where he ends and the monster begins. can’t say how long that will last. ] For as long as you’ll have me.
[ then they’re kissing again, heated and urgent, breaking apart sporadically so he can undress them both, sliding kaz’s shirt from his shoulders, lifting his hips to strip him bare of his trousers. nikolai shucks his own pants after him and rattles the drawer open, moving objects about haphazardly until he finally closes his fingers around the tin he’s looking for. the top clatters to the floor as he returns to his careful position in kaz’s lap, his hand slick as he grips kaz’s cock and drags his fingers from base to tip. his fingers tremble, his breath an unsteady cascade against kaz’s wet lips. the logistics of what he asked for suddenly press upon him, that he will have to stop and be still, theoretically, at least for a bit, and that does little to ease the tension holding tight to him. until now, he’s taken the natural lead in all their encounters, happy to offer kaz guidance and a space to stretch new muscles. it isn’t as if he doesn’t enjoy the other side (he does, immensely), but he’s shed many habits since the demon took hold, willingly yielding any inch of control being chief among them. ]
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as long as you’ll have me, he says, as if kaz’s wanting has an end — as if he didn’t kiss nikolai’s shadow, mouth full of blood. a thief never gives anything back. if nikolai would stay — or let kaz follow him — he busies his mouth before he risks excavating his heart all over again. his hands only fall away when nikolai lifts out of reach, and they’re snug at his hips as soon as he returns. can’t keep himself from staring or stop awe from tugging his mouth higher. so much happens in a rush and then stops, but kaz catches up.
when nerves get the better of nikolai, he tries to speed past them, careening around corners to the next thing — putting someone else’s pleasure above his own, as he does now. tension coiled at the base of his spine, hips hovering above kaz’s lap. hasn’t ever been like this before — but this is different, isn’t it? from everything else. he knows that now. he slides his hand up and down nikolai’s back, soothing without seeking anything more. ]
Not so fast. [ in the matters of hurrying this along and going away inside his mind. saints, he can feel the furrow in nikolai’s brow, their noses brushing. gently, he guides nikolai’s hand away from his aching cock to the mattress behind him. lightly, then. ] How heavy do you think you are? [ laughing, just a little, at nikolai’s suspended position, poised on taut muscles. both hands re-settle on his hips and squeeze, pulling him flush. it doesn’t hurt kaz, injury set at a resting level of pain. his bandaged palm frames the length of nikolai's neck, thumb arcing over the hinge of his jaw. a softer kiss helps slow the world down, narrowing his focus to exploring nikolai’s perfect mouth. ]
I’ve wanted this, too, but not like that. [ is this how nikolai has been with others? the people in-between dominik and kaz. possibly. (they can’t have known how precious he is, or they’d never have let him go.) it's not how nikolai has been with him, in the moments that mattered, so kaz adjusts their course.
leaning back and to the side, he stretches in search of the tin that nikolai sent rolling among his mountainous bedsheets and pillows. so careless with his things (with himself). once he finds it, he sets it within reach, brow arched like he half expects nikolai to dart forward again. his hand fits back at nikolai’s hip soon enough, tracing the seam where it meets his thigh. kaz thinks about nikolai’s legs tightening around him, when he first asked for this — how badly he wanted to give it to him, despite the chill in the air from their parting. his fingers follow the muscle of his thigh to the bend of his knee, dipping into that soft hollow before skimming down his leg to cinch at his ankle. there are still so many places he hasn’t touched. even when he finally maps them all, he knows it won’t be enough. ] Like this.
[ he slicks his fingers and curls them around the base of nikolai’s cock, grip sliding tight to the tip and back down. a few easy jerks are meant to break the surface tension, but it’s hard to stop touching him once he’s started. luckily, he supposes he doesn’t have to, his other hand gliding back up nikolai’s leg and dipping between his cheeks. ] Tell me if this isn’t alright. [ it’s another moment of unhurried warming, not pressing in, even if nikolai tries to urge him onwards. never done this before, obviously, but nikolai did it for him. the memory makes his heart stutter. ] If it’s too fast, [ teasing, maybe, but they’ve only just found themselves on the same page. ] I can wait. [ he presses inward, just so. kaz can always wait, even for things that may never come to pass, and certainly for this, nikolai’s weight comforting and not oppressive. alive, not dead. suffused with heat from the inside — he can feel it. a slight push acts as a careful test of resistance. quick kisses cover his cheek, the corner of his mouth, his jaw. too much affection, stymied for years and then only weeks. ] I’ll give you anything you want. [ he jacks nikolai’s cock at the exact moment he sinks inside. ] Everything.
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although when he looks at kaz now it’s hard to believe that of him, with his gentle reassurances, firm but never pressing too hard. testing the waters, perhaps, of how much guidance nikolai will take. historically, it’s been little. to lay the mantle down after so long — so long that it feels all but welded to his shoulders — feels impossible. but kaz pulls him close, reorients him with a slow kiss and his languorous hands exploring his body, and nikolai finds himself responding in kind, his hand once again in kaz’s soft hair, his heart rabbiting in a quick but steady pace. it’s new for him — not the coarse action in itself, but the whole of this. he’s fallen into many beds, had experiences of many kinds, but none that have stripped him bare quite like kaz is able to, none that have meant so much or come so close to his heart. ]
It’s — good. [ stuttered into his mouth when kaz’s deft fingers wrap around his cock, simultaneous pressure spreading him open. he rocks forward, then backwards, wanting both with a gaping hunger, his skin flush with desire. ] It’s not too fast. [ i can wait sounds more like punishment for his bad behavior, but kaz doesn’t hold out for long, chasing his sweet promises with reward, and nikolai’s spine tightens, bracing one hand tighter against the bed as he finally broaches him. immediately, he wants more. ]
Another. [ he kisses him, nudging his hips up slightly so kaz can add a second finger, this time accompanied with a slow burn of pain that he relishes. his teeth catch at kaz’s bottom lip as he bears down, a helpless sound escaping the clench of his teeth. everything strikes discord in him, his eyes fluttering open, a crease in his brow. he’s shaken by how much he wants this, and how every breath feels lancing, tension singing in his bones. his words don’t sound like himself when he speaks, instead taking on the quality of someone less assured, someone who has allowed a deep seated fear to creep into the light. ] I don’t want everything from you. [ he falters; it sounds wrong, hurtful, the opposite of what he means. his fingers curl at kaz’s shoulder, a shudder taking him as he shifts. ] The monster wants to take everything from you. I only want you to stay.
[ a wholly selfish request when in his mind’s eye he’s all but decided that this must end when kaz has been excised of the merzost in his leg. he understands now why it hurts to breathe, and that it will hurt every time he looks at kaz until the moment he’s forced to cut him away like a dog from a leash, only kaz will never understand that he’s the dog and kaz is the one holding the leash. he rises suddenly, feeling the cold absence of kaz’s fingers, reaching down to wrap his hand firmly around kaz’s waiting cock. ]
I need you. [ never been one for begging, and yet it feels natural now, something fissuring in him at the weight of his own deception. he has time, dwindling though it may be. time to concoct a plan, to invent a new solution, only those weeks have been slashed to ribbons with the demon’s demands. every seven days he must forge an answer. there is no time, not with kaz’s wellbeing sitting flush in the middle. panic mingled with desire quickens his breath, a heady mixture. no time at all.
gripping the nape of kaz’s neck, he pulls him down as he sprawls onto his back among the pillows, drawing him between his legs. his green eyes are as dark as a forest at night, his hips rising in a desperate plea. ] Please. Don’t be gentle.
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[ a disapproving noise. ] I know you want more than that. [ he pushes in hard, crooking his fingers. his tone leaves no room for doubt. nikolai is like him, a boy whose wanting has no end — or he’d have let kaz finish this closeness moments ago. why reject that offer of a clean break? if it were anyone else, he’d think they wanted to heighten his pain — to take control and twist the knife in his gut, but nikolai has been chasing emotion over logic ever since he lost the crown. as it happens, kaz also disagrees in the matter of the monster, but decides against voicing that. if the monster wanted to take everything, it’s had chance after chance to do so — last night most of all — and every time, it lets him go. there’s too much of nikolai in it to hurt him like that. and there’s too much of it in nikolai for him to mean what he says. ] You want this, too, and I want to give it to you. You can’t take something that’s freely given. [ but then nikolai seems to be struggling to take any of this — kaz has half a mind to slow to a stop until nikolai takes him in hand and confesses his need. ]
You have me, Nikolai. [ riding on an unsteady breath. the second request destabilises him. don’t be gentle. because you don’t want it, or because you can’t take it? tenderness hurts more, he knows it does. it’s why he behaved so harshly the second time they came together. in this, however, kaz is prone to softness, with his jagged edges sanded down by the hours they’ve spent entangled — or maybe just by bumping up against the border between longing and having one too many times. this close, kaz can feel everything: the rise and fall of nikolai’s chest under his wandering hands, the reverberation of his answer, and the pulse ratcheting under his skin, flushed with blood. as with all things nikolai asks of him, it takes little time for kaz to oblige, leaning more on his left leg than the right. he slides a pillow under nikolai’s hips to heighten the angle, palm pushing his chest down. it’s the best chance he’s had to look at nikolai — all of nikolai — in some time, and he gets a little lost in it.
regaining a measure of focus, he first anchors his hand under nikolai’s thigh, sliding slowly up behind his knee. even if nikolai doesn't think he needs time — it can't hurt. kaz guides his legs around his waist, attention split between where he pushes inside (slow and careful and gentle, despite his instructions) and nikolai’s expression, cracking under the pressure of intimacy. ]
You feel so good. [ overwhelmed despite his efforts to maintain his composure, to make this good for nikolai by being a fixed point. the fissures already show, eyes wild and hair sticking up from when nikolai ran his fingers through it. never had someone quite like this before, never been comfortable or welcomed enough to bend over them, as intimate as it gets. kaz shifts a hand back up his thigh, so he can snap his hips the rest of the way, bottoming out, all shuddering breaths. the heat of another body is horrible. no, wonderful. it’s just nikolai — nikolai with his razored teeth at his throat and claws sinking into his hand, shoulder, leg. a wounded sound. has to dig his nails into nikolai’s thigh to ground himself, steadying himself so he's got enough leverage to move with one hand, while the other laces their fingers together at nikolai’s hip, more for his own sake. ]
I’ve got you. [ another shift to adjust the angle where they come together, pulling nikolai closer, dragging long and slow. there’s too much on kaz’s mind to do anything but keep moving — working himself up into deeper and better-timed thrusts. ]
no subject
kaz, of course, treats him gently. it’s harder to bear than he could have imagined, after everything — to try to relax, to attempt to lower the barrier between heedless pleasure and the inescapable clamor of his thoughts. he’s eager to have kaz inside of him, but it comes with the heavy weight of gentle caresses, kaz’s fingers exploring places he’s never touched before. it isn’t the touch itself that unnerves him — it’s the quiet reverence with which kaz does so, as if his edges are still gilded, as if he still deserves to be handled with such care. he thinks of zoya sending him away, of his parents standing before him in os kervo’s city hall to renounce him as a pretender. he thinks of kaz’s fresh blood in his mouth, and how he has no choice but to hurt him again this very day.
he feels the shift when their fingers twine, kaz holding on as if he’ll be swept away by the tide, his hips still pushing doggedly into him as if nikolai’s pleasure is more important than anything else. a low moan tumbles past his lips, his lashes fluttering as he tries to keep kaz in his sights, wanting to make sure he’s all right. doesn’t like this feeling of his control slipping away, but there’s little he can do against it when no part of his body wants this to stop. ]
You do. You have me. [ a bitter truth, confessed in a tight breath. any other time it would make him glad in ways he’s wished for for so long — to belong, to be wanted — only this time he’s caught in an awful snare constructed by kaz and the monster. nowhere to go but forward, time shrinking down between now and the moment his razored teeth sink back into soft flesh. their hips join again, a raw brush of heat knocking his thoughts askew, his head tipping into a patch of sunlight as his back arches. he’s blinded momentarily when his gaze flutters open, his eyes bright gold in the sun, and then he moves, gripping the back of kaz’s neck to draw him down for a hard kiss. ]
It’s good. Keep going. [ he meets kaz’s thrusts, helping him to a rhythm while he feels his resolve melt away. it’s like trying to hold on to a ledge with slippery fingers, trying to hold back a dam with battered walls. his hand presses to kaz’s spine, urging him in deeper while his breath stutters, his hair darkening with sweat. ] I need it — to feel good for you, too. Does it? Tell me —
[ he tries to meet his gaze, but it feels too piercing, a small lance of panic cutting through his chest before he rises, spending a moment on a breathless kiss and then turning to brace against the side of the bed. he pulls kaz’s chest to his back, deft fingers finding kaz’s slick cock and sliding it back inside of him with a soft groan. craning over his shoulder, he steals another messy kiss, blond hair askew, his eyes near glassy with desperation. he pushes back, heat sparking between them. ] Please. Please.
what year is it
it’s easier than it should be, to let control ebb and flow between them. (should never ease his grip, should never let nikolai guide his steps.) kaz slows and gentles until nikolai can’t take it any longer — expected, understood — green-gold eyes gilded with sunlight and threatening to cut to the heart of him. kaz chokes on his wanting until nikolai tongues the air back into his lungs. it’s good. surely wanted — perhaps needed, or that’s kaz’s own higher thoughts collapsing in on themselves. nothing but fevered skin, sweat-slick between them. he’d have lost himself already if not for nikolai’s urging. as ever, kaz follows his voice out of the endless dark. ]
Yeah — yes. [ would have agreed with anything nikolai asked just now, because it’s good in the way it always is. better. the part of drowning where the body gives into its fate.
then they’re aligned at a new angle, kaz’s hands finding the curves of nikolai’s hips, at first gauging the rhythm of his movements, then aiding them with a hard push down. ]
It’s good. [ his mouth finds nikolai’s throat, teeth scraping at the soft juncture of his neck. if their roles were reversed, his jugular would be open. or maybe it wouldn’t. maybe it’d just be marked again: the threat of blood bruising the skin. kaz smears kisses up nikolai’s throat to banish his thoughts, copper in his mouth. ] You’re — good. [ voice breaking, rock salt rasp made brittle. ]
Perfect, Nikolai. [ you have to say his name. debauched and unravelling in his arms for the better. between them, kaz’s fingers follow the tense cord of muscle down nikolai’s back, the arc of his trembling spine that he must have memorised. can’t hold onto this moment any longer. heat curls in the pit of his chest. finally, he reaches around to the flat of nikolai’s stomach, trembling with nerves or need, and takes his cock in hand. ] You first. [ more breathless than teasing, though a lucid thought underwrites it. nikolai always puts others — including damnable kaz brekker — first, chasing their pleasure (and safety) before his own. not today. not this very second or in the miserable hours that will follow. kaz pushes slick and deep, hand quick and sure as nikolai tightens around him. no wonder nikolai wanted this before fjerda (might have thought of it within moments of having the flinty, narrow-eyed kaz brekker staring at him with blown open eyes). a sweet dizziness overtakes him just as nikolai spills in his hand. kaz loses his mouth after that, face buried in nikolai’s shoulder and hips pushing until his wanting crests with a faltering cry. his breath keeps coming hot and heavy after, slowing but not stopping. no matter the angle, kaz always ends up split open, with crevices and cracks for nikolai to store his light. ]
Perfect, Nikolai. [ if he keeps saying it, nikolai might half-believe him. one arm still braces around nikolai’s chest; his other hand falling to nikolai’s thigh. kaz tells himself he can hold on because nikolai will pull away before anything else can slip through his teeth. ]
the year of my blessing
perfect. a lie or the truth, it doesn’t matter now. nothing matters now except that he has kaz for this moment, has him in a way that’s more than good — good enough to forget the looming darkness snapping at his heels, the horrible, twisted bargain struck between man and monster. kaz will not let him run from it later, but now there’s only the slick pull of kaz’s nimble fingers, the arch of his spine with every thrust. the familiar rasp of his voice guides him toward the cusp of his pleasure — nikolai would be lost without it, without him, not just here in this moment, but for the months now that kaz brekker has occupied a space in the brambles of his thoughts, the one constant in a life marked by darkness and loss.
he comes with a hard shudder, kaz’s fingers working some miraculously cruel magic to wring a pathetically helpless sound from his throat, and he feels every tremor when kaz follows, both of nikolai’s hands gripping the bed, white-knuckled. nikolai moves even as time seems to halt around them, turning in kaz’s tender embrace to cradle his jaw, lifting his face to his for a breathless kiss, long and slow. kissing kaz brekker is its own sort of lovemaking, the give and take of it, the yielding of his body, the way kaz gives the whole of his attention to the act, the way every thought flies out of nikolai’s head with the soft slide of their mouths. his fingers caress kaz’s sweat-slicked skin, his heartbeat rabbiting against his own. nikolai relishes the mess their bodies have made together, and he wonders, fleetingly, if a part of kaz is tempering his revulsion right now. ]
Remember this. [ he runs a hand through kaz’s dark hair, then finds his hand, twining their fingers together. his lips never leave kaz’s, greedy, hungrily chasing his mouth. ] When I’m not myself. You have to remember who I really am. [ a prince, a privateer, a monster trying to be an ordinary man. he presses their linked hands to kaz’s fast-beating heart, alive. ] No matter what happens. Remember this.
[ he kisses kaz for as long as time allows it, until their breaths settle, until they’re tangled once again on the floor and the shadows lengthen through his bedroom window. until reality starts to creep back into the spin of his whirring mind, the ship’s preparations and kaz’s leg and the task of allowing the monster to feed. it will be the last thing they do tonight — it will put kaz out of commission and likely nikolai as well, at worst, and he’s not chancing that anything will go at best. when he rolls onto his back, he’s clear-eyed as he blinks at the ceiling, his thumb rubbing idly at kaz’s hip. ]
Get your affairs in order. Meet me back here when you’re done. [ he shifts to glance at him, smile in place. ] There’s no privacy in Fifth Harbor.