FIC: Allegory of the Senses [2 of 2]
Jan. 24th, 2012 12:36 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
splixTitle: Allegory of the Senses [2 of 2]
Author: Alex
Pairing/Character(s): Alec Trevelyan/Nikolai Luzhin
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 2400
Written as a [late] Halloween treat for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
mooms
*
Moscow, 1987
Tourists are told that the eight-story Italianate building on Dzherzinsky Square is the office of the electric power agency. Most briefly admire its handsomeness and turn toward the children’s store, Detsky Mir, across the square. Some, more reliably informed, take surreptitious photographs of the building whose name is spoken of only in frightened murmurs, if at all: Lubyanka, the headquarters of the KGB.
The interior corridors are not as attractively decorated as the building’s exterior. They are lit badly, with loudly humming fluorescent fixtures, and painted in depressing colors: mud brown, mustard yellow, anemic green. A uniformed security officer at his heels, Nikolai hurries through one corridor after another, noticing for the first time, without breaking stride, how ugly the corridors are. He and the security officer take the lift down three stories below ground and come to a door painted battleship-grey. Pressing a sequence of numbers into the keypad, Nikolai enters another corridor, this one lined with identical steel doors in the same grey. The doors are not thick enough, in some instances, to entirely muffle the cries of those behind them.
Another security officer stands before a door no different from any of the others. Sharply, Nikolai orders the man to open the door and shows him a piece of paper printed on yellow flimsy. The officer’s attitude alchemizes from bored insolence to scurrying obedience; he wheels open the door and gestures Nikolai inside.
The smell strikes Nikolai as soon as he walks in – blood, stale sweat, human waste. The cell is cramped, low-ceilinged, hardly large enough to contain himself and the other three people within – two KGB agents and the prisoner on the floor. One of the KGB agents looks over his shoulder and barks, “What the fuck do you want?”
Without a word, Nikolai hands over the yellow flimsy. The KGB agent snatches it, tearing it nearly in half, and scans it rapidly. His eyes widen, and he hands it to the second agent. They stare at him, wide-eyed, and begin to back out of the cell.
Nikolai grabs the first agent by the arm and digs his fingers into the man’s flesh. “You get me a doctor and an orderly at once,” he says quietly, “or I’ll make sure you’re picking rocks in Ekaterinburg for the rest of your life. Understand?” The man nods and slips out of the cell. Nikolai hears the voices of the two agents as they take the corridor at a run.
Only when they are gone does Nikolai turn his eyes to the prisoner. The man lies still on the floor, naked, filthy, his hands cuffed behind his back and his eyes covered with a dirty rag. Dried blood cakes his face; a fresh rivulet trickles from his nose and puddles on the floor beneath him. Unmindful of the two security officers watching him, Nikolai kneels and gently touches the man’s face. The prisoner flinches, but makes no sound.
Carefully, Nikolai unties the blindfold, resting a steadying hand on the bruised shoulder. “Alyosha – it’s me. It’s all right.”
Alec Trevelyan blinks against the steel-caged light, his eyes tearing. “Is –“ He licks bloody lips. “Kolya?”
“Yes. Don’t speak. I’m going to get you out of here.” He produces a handcuff key and goes to work.
A long, shuddering breath escapes Alec’s body. He closes his eyes.
~~
Alec sniffs the air expectantly. “What is that?”
“Lapsha.” Nikolai gingerly places a steaming bowl in front of Alec. “Eat it slowly. It’s quite hot.” He inspects Alec’s bruised face for a moment and cannot resist brushing back a lock of hair. “Alyosha. Why didn’t you tell me, for God’s sake?”
Alec spoons up a mouthful of hot noodle soup. He can consume more than water and milk now; his strength is returning. “Ahh – that’s lovely.”
“Answer me.”
“What would you like me to say?” Alec shakes his head. “In the beginning I kept silent because I didn’t know if I could trust you. As time passed, I realized that I could, but…Kolya, do you know what kind of people I – if certain persons discovered that you knew the truth about me, they would kill you. Not imprison you and beat you the way those swine in Lubyanka beat me, but kill you. And they’d make sure you suffered first.” He takes another spoonful of soup, then sets down the spoon and looks up at Nikolai. “Do you think I want that to happen to you?”
“That’s the risk we all take in life.”
“Bollocks,” Alec snaps in English.
Nikolai smiles and sits beside him. His sofa, an ancient creaking thing covered in tattered blue satin upholstery, is made up into a bed. Alec has stayed here for a week, recovering. Nikolai moved him out of the hospital as soon as he could. He has become accustomed to Alec’s presence, though he knows that soon Alec will be gone. His absence has been noticed in England; discreet feelers have been extended through the British embassy. “You were in prison for three weeks. I mightn’t have realized you were there at all. It was a chance happening.”
Alec shrugs.
“You could have asked for me. I would have effected your release immediately. Why didn’t you?”
Resolutely, Alec spoons up more soup and remains silent.
“You were protecting your cover.”
“Even the KGB has leaks.” Alec picks up the bowl and drinks from it.
Nikolai sits back on the sofa and surreptitiously watches Alec. He occupies his space like a great golden cat, long-stemmed and indolent, but ready for the kill, should the opportunity arise. He senses Alec’s growing restlessness. “I must go to Krasnoyarsk next week.”
“Chasing the vor again?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve become an important man in a short time, Kolya, if you can choose your assignments. Will my stay prove to be a source of bother for you?”
Now Nikolai shrugs. “I’ll manage. Will you have difficulty explaining things to the ambassador?”
“No. I’ll tell him the truth – or a version of it. Pity most of the bruising will have faded by then.” Alec sets down the bowl and unties the belt of the dressing gown borrowed from Nikolai, revealing a fading galaxy of cuts and scrapes. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
“Too impressive for my tastes.” Nikolai reaches out and brushes his finger over a crescent-shaped scab on Alec’s chest. “You should have called for me.”
“Kolyushenka,” Alec replies softly, using the most intimate and affectionate form of address, “I couldn’t. You’ve done yourself no favor, you know, becoming involved with me. I’m volatile matter. No one trusts a double agent.”
“What if I said I trusted you?”
A sudden expression of pain throws a shadow across Alec’s face. “Then you would be the only one, my friend.” He catches Nikolai’s hand and pulls him close, wrapping his legs around Nikolai’s hips, his arms round Nikolai’s neck, and whispers in his ear. “I haven’t thanked you for saving my skin.”
“Not yet.”
“Then let me.” Alec pulls Nikolai atop him. The wooden frame of the sofa creaks uneasily. “Let me thank you.”
“Won’t it hurt you?”
“Yes, it probably will.” Alec silences Nikolai with a thorough kiss and fumbles at his belt and trousers. In a moment they slide down to Nikolai’s knees, and Alec, naked beneath the dressing gown, is sprawling awkwardly. They struggle for minimal comfort, and finally Nikolai is on his knees on the floor, Alec on the sofa, thighs wide open and ready, his cock hard. “Take it in your mouth, Kolya.”
Nikolai bends to Alec’s cock, sucking and licking, watching the taut muscles of Alec’s belly as he thrusts forward into Nikolai’s mouth. When he senses Alec is close, he pulls away and spits on his hand, slicking his own erect prick. Alec watches him, eyes dark, mouth half-open with lust, and braces himself on his elbows, opening wider. Nikolai pulls him closer and pushes in, biting back a moan of pleasure. Alec is tense and deliciously tight. When he manages to bury his prick completely inside Alec’s body, he pushes his hips forward and revels in the soft cry that escapes Alec’s lips.
Slowly, he rocks back and forth, feeling Alec grasping his shoulders, meeting and matching his rhythm. Nikolai takes hold of Alec’s hip with one hand and wraps his free hand around Alec’s cock. They grind together, hungry, mindless, their thrusts becoming more brutal, until Alec cries out as he comes and tightens maddeningly. Nikolai shudders and releases in a violent, racking spasm strong enough to make stars flash across his vision.
They are still for long moments, waiting for strength and speech to return. When they can move again, Nikolai draws Alec into the bathroom, and they shower together, kissing and caressing until the water runs cold. They fall into Nikolai’s narrow bed. Nikolai feels himself drifting almost immediately. He closes his eyes, sated, strangely happy. Before he falls into a black-velvet slumber, he feels Alec’s lips brush against his ear, and hears the softest whisper, no more than a faint exhalation of breath.
“Kolyushenka…I trust you too.”
When he awakens, Alec is gone.
*
St. Petersburg, 1995
One of the bodyguards lumbers through the door, tugging on the too-short sleeves of his shirt, a peach-colored polyester affair with a ruffle down the front. He stares down at Nikolai and prods him with the toe of his shoe. “Still awake?”
Nikolai shifts against the cold concrete wall and says nothing. His head aches, his limbs hurt, and because the vor scum have taken his clothing, he’s close to freezing.
“You’re fucked now, friend.” The bodyguard shuffles back to the door and opens it, stepping aside and turning on a switch. A blinding white glare suffuses the room, and Nikolai squints against the light as a tall, lean figure enters, but sees only a dim blur.
A sudden sharp intake of breath comes from the figure standing over him. “Dear God.” The figure wheels. “Get out. Now.”
“He’s dangerous, boss. Almost killed Misha.”
“I said get out. And close the goddamned door behind you.”
The bodyguard backs out, almost bowing, and closes the door. Nikolai tries to smile as the figure bends close. “Hello, Janus.”
“Kolya. What in God’s name…?” Alec peers at him, his eyes widening at the tattoos that cover Nikolai’s body. “What have you done to yourself?” He shakes his head.
Nikolai’s vision begins to clear. “Alyosha…your face.” He stares at the twisted flesh, a bright pink roadmap of hardened tissue.
“We’re both scarred,” Alec replies. Neither his voice nor his eyes are kind. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for Janus.”
“You’ve found him. Congratulations.” Alec takes a silver-handled blade from his pocket. “I can’t free your hands – they’ll suspect something.” He cuts the ropes binding Nikolai’s knees and ankles, and rises to his feet. “Let me help you. Steady – steady.” He guides Nikolai to a chair, helps him into it, and takes off his coat. He stares hard-eyed at Nikolai’s tattoos, then sighs and drapes the coat over Nikolai’s shoulders.
The coat, soft black cashmere lined with aubergine silk, is warm from Alec’s body. “Thank you.”
“Kolya, if you’re looking for some sort of vor stronghold….” Alec sighs again. “They’re only employees. You’ve made a wrong turn.”
“I hear you have connections.”
“You know better than that. The vor are nothing – incidental. But still you chase them. You look like one of them now.” Alec takes Nikolai’s chin in his hand, tilting it upward. “You’ve disfigured yourself permanently. You’re damned lucky those idiots out there just think you were stealing from me, you know that?”
Nikolai nods. “I know. Do me a favor – don’t damage my cover.”
A short laugh escapes Alec before he can stop himself. He kneels and strokes Nikolai’s face, and the cold anger is gone, replaced by unexpected tenderness. “What am I going to do with you? I can’t just let you walk away.”
“I’d probably freeze to death if you did,” Nikolai replies. “Alyosha, what happened to your face?”
“It’s a long story, Kolyushenka.”
“Janus,” Nikolai remarks softly.
“Yes.” Alec rests his warm hands on Nikolai’s naked, tattooed thighs, and leans forward until their foreheads touch. “Shall we make a bargain? I don’t damage your cover, and you don’t betray me.”
Nikolai hesitates. “You’re a hunted man, you know.”
“I know.” Alec takes out the silver-handled blade and opens it, regarding it silently. “And I’ve captured a hunter.” He holds the blade to Nikolai’s throat. “You know what the vor do to those who’ve obtained their tattoos falsely, don’t you?”
Nikolai feels the barest edge of the blade resting against his skin. “Yes. They cut the tattoos out.”
“Of living flesh.” Alec draws a fingertip over the crucifix on Nikolai’s chest. “It’s excruciating, I understand.”
“So I hear.”
Slowly, Alec leans forward and brushes his lips against Nikolai’s, then kisses him, pushing his tongue into Nikolai’s mouth, forcing himself upon Nikolai. The blade stays, whispering over sensitive skin. Nikolai tenses against the ropes on his wrists, his hands curling reflexively. He has promised nothing. Alec could cut his throat and dump his body in the Neva, and no one would be the wiser. His superiors are not expecting a progress report for another week. He has no family to care if he goes missing. He has no lovers. His acquaintances are few, none he can call friend. He is helpless, and alone.
Alec pulls back and folds the blade, slipping it into his pocket. He takes Nikolai’s face in his hands. There is pain on his face, and hazily, Nikolai wonders if the burns are making him suffer. “Outcasts,” Alec says quietly, “both of us, Kolyushenka.”
“We always have been,” Nikolai replies. “Only now….”
“Only now, it shows.” Alec bends and kisses a bare spot on Nikolai’s belly. He kisses up Nikolai’s chest, and reaches his throat. He kisses tenderly now, his arms clasping Nikolai close.
“What will you do?”
“I’ll think of something.” A soft, bitter laugh escapes him. “Who knows. Perhaps someday we’ll meet again, under more auspicious circumstances.” Alec’s mouth moves against Nikolai’s pulse, his voice full of impending loss. “I trust you, Kolyushenka.”
Nikolai’s soul bleeds, but he says nothing. He closes his eyes, and absorbs Alec’s touch.
End.
Author: Alex
Pairing/Character(s): Alec Trevelyan/Nikolai Luzhin
Rating: NC-17
Word count: 2400
Written as a [late] Halloween treat for
mooms*
Moscow, 1987
Tourists are told that the eight-story Italianate building on Dzherzinsky Square is the office of the electric power agency. Most briefly admire its handsomeness and turn toward the children’s store, Detsky Mir, across the square. Some, more reliably informed, take surreptitious photographs of the building whose name is spoken of only in frightened murmurs, if at all: Lubyanka, the headquarters of the KGB.
The interior corridors are not as attractively decorated as the building’s exterior. They are lit badly, with loudly humming fluorescent fixtures, and painted in depressing colors: mud brown, mustard yellow, anemic green. A uniformed security officer at his heels, Nikolai hurries through one corridor after another, noticing for the first time, without breaking stride, how ugly the corridors are. He and the security officer take the lift down three stories below ground and come to a door painted battleship-grey. Pressing a sequence of numbers into the keypad, Nikolai enters another corridor, this one lined with identical steel doors in the same grey. The doors are not thick enough, in some instances, to entirely muffle the cries of those behind them.
Another security officer stands before a door no different from any of the others. Sharply, Nikolai orders the man to open the door and shows him a piece of paper printed on yellow flimsy. The officer’s attitude alchemizes from bored insolence to scurrying obedience; he wheels open the door and gestures Nikolai inside.
The smell strikes Nikolai as soon as he walks in – blood, stale sweat, human waste. The cell is cramped, low-ceilinged, hardly large enough to contain himself and the other three people within – two KGB agents and the prisoner on the floor. One of the KGB agents looks over his shoulder and barks, “What the fuck do you want?”
Without a word, Nikolai hands over the yellow flimsy. The KGB agent snatches it, tearing it nearly in half, and scans it rapidly. His eyes widen, and he hands it to the second agent. They stare at him, wide-eyed, and begin to back out of the cell.
Nikolai grabs the first agent by the arm and digs his fingers into the man’s flesh. “You get me a doctor and an orderly at once,” he says quietly, “or I’ll make sure you’re picking rocks in Ekaterinburg for the rest of your life. Understand?” The man nods and slips out of the cell. Nikolai hears the voices of the two agents as they take the corridor at a run.
Only when they are gone does Nikolai turn his eyes to the prisoner. The man lies still on the floor, naked, filthy, his hands cuffed behind his back and his eyes covered with a dirty rag. Dried blood cakes his face; a fresh rivulet trickles from his nose and puddles on the floor beneath him. Unmindful of the two security officers watching him, Nikolai kneels and gently touches the man’s face. The prisoner flinches, but makes no sound.
Carefully, Nikolai unties the blindfold, resting a steadying hand on the bruised shoulder. “Alyosha – it’s me. It’s all right.”
Alec Trevelyan blinks against the steel-caged light, his eyes tearing. “Is –“ He licks bloody lips. “Kolya?”
“Yes. Don’t speak. I’m going to get you out of here.” He produces a handcuff key and goes to work.
A long, shuddering breath escapes Alec’s body. He closes his eyes.
~~
Alec sniffs the air expectantly. “What is that?”
“Lapsha.” Nikolai gingerly places a steaming bowl in front of Alec. “Eat it slowly. It’s quite hot.” He inspects Alec’s bruised face for a moment and cannot resist brushing back a lock of hair. “Alyosha. Why didn’t you tell me, for God’s sake?”
Alec spoons up a mouthful of hot noodle soup. He can consume more than water and milk now; his strength is returning. “Ahh – that’s lovely.”
“Answer me.”
“What would you like me to say?” Alec shakes his head. “In the beginning I kept silent because I didn’t know if I could trust you. As time passed, I realized that I could, but…Kolya, do you know what kind of people I – if certain persons discovered that you knew the truth about me, they would kill you. Not imprison you and beat you the way those swine in Lubyanka beat me, but kill you. And they’d make sure you suffered first.” He takes another spoonful of soup, then sets down the spoon and looks up at Nikolai. “Do you think I want that to happen to you?”
“That’s the risk we all take in life.”
“Bollocks,” Alec snaps in English.
Nikolai smiles and sits beside him. His sofa, an ancient creaking thing covered in tattered blue satin upholstery, is made up into a bed. Alec has stayed here for a week, recovering. Nikolai moved him out of the hospital as soon as he could. He has become accustomed to Alec’s presence, though he knows that soon Alec will be gone. His absence has been noticed in England; discreet feelers have been extended through the British embassy. “You were in prison for three weeks. I mightn’t have realized you were there at all. It was a chance happening.”
Alec shrugs.
“You could have asked for me. I would have effected your release immediately. Why didn’t you?”
Resolutely, Alec spoons up more soup and remains silent.
“You were protecting your cover.”
“Even the KGB has leaks.” Alec picks up the bowl and drinks from it.
Nikolai sits back on the sofa and surreptitiously watches Alec. He occupies his space like a great golden cat, long-stemmed and indolent, but ready for the kill, should the opportunity arise. He senses Alec’s growing restlessness. “I must go to Krasnoyarsk next week.”
“Chasing the vor again?”
“Yes.”
“You’ve become an important man in a short time, Kolya, if you can choose your assignments. Will my stay prove to be a source of bother for you?”
Now Nikolai shrugs. “I’ll manage. Will you have difficulty explaining things to the ambassador?”
“No. I’ll tell him the truth – or a version of it. Pity most of the bruising will have faded by then.” Alec sets down the bowl and unties the belt of the dressing gown borrowed from Nikolai, revealing a fading galaxy of cuts and scrapes. “Impressive, isn’t it?”
“Too impressive for my tastes.” Nikolai reaches out and brushes his finger over a crescent-shaped scab on Alec’s chest. “You should have called for me.”
“Kolyushenka,” Alec replies softly, using the most intimate and affectionate form of address, “I couldn’t. You’ve done yourself no favor, you know, becoming involved with me. I’m volatile matter. No one trusts a double agent.”
“What if I said I trusted you?”
A sudden expression of pain throws a shadow across Alec’s face. “Then you would be the only one, my friend.” He catches Nikolai’s hand and pulls him close, wrapping his legs around Nikolai’s hips, his arms round Nikolai’s neck, and whispers in his ear. “I haven’t thanked you for saving my skin.”
“Not yet.”
“Then let me.” Alec pulls Nikolai atop him. The wooden frame of the sofa creaks uneasily. “Let me thank you.”
“Won’t it hurt you?”
“Yes, it probably will.” Alec silences Nikolai with a thorough kiss and fumbles at his belt and trousers. In a moment they slide down to Nikolai’s knees, and Alec, naked beneath the dressing gown, is sprawling awkwardly. They struggle for minimal comfort, and finally Nikolai is on his knees on the floor, Alec on the sofa, thighs wide open and ready, his cock hard. “Take it in your mouth, Kolya.”
Nikolai bends to Alec’s cock, sucking and licking, watching the taut muscles of Alec’s belly as he thrusts forward into Nikolai’s mouth. When he senses Alec is close, he pulls away and spits on his hand, slicking his own erect prick. Alec watches him, eyes dark, mouth half-open with lust, and braces himself on his elbows, opening wider. Nikolai pulls him closer and pushes in, biting back a moan of pleasure. Alec is tense and deliciously tight. When he manages to bury his prick completely inside Alec’s body, he pushes his hips forward and revels in the soft cry that escapes Alec’s lips.
Slowly, he rocks back and forth, feeling Alec grasping his shoulders, meeting and matching his rhythm. Nikolai takes hold of Alec’s hip with one hand and wraps his free hand around Alec’s cock. They grind together, hungry, mindless, their thrusts becoming more brutal, until Alec cries out as he comes and tightens maddeningly. Nikolai shudders and releases in a violent, racking spasm strong enough to make stars flash across his vision.
They are still for long moments, waiting for strength and speech to return. When they can move again, Nikolai draws Alec into the bathroom, and they shower together, kissing and caressing until the water runs cold. They fall into Nikolai’s narrow bed. Nikolai feels himself drifting almost immediately. He closes his eyes, sated, strangely happy. Before he falls into a black-velvet slumber, he feels Alec’s lips brush against his ear, and hears the softest whisper, no more than a faint exhalation of breath.
“Kolyushenka…I trust you too.”
When he awakens, Alec is gone.
*
St. Petersburg, 1995
One of the bodyguards lumbers through the door, tugging on the too-short sleeves of his shirt, a peach-colored polyester affair with a ruffle down the front. He stares down at Nikolai and prods him with the toe of his shoe. “Still awake?”
Nikolai shifts against the cold concrete wall and says nothing. His head aches, his limbs hurt, and because the vor scum have taken his clothing, he’s close to freezing.
“You’re fucked now, friend.” The bodyguard shuffles back to the door and opens it, stepping aside and turning on a switch. A blinding white glare suffuses the room, and Nikolai squints against the light as a tall, lean figure enters, but sees only a dim blur.
A sudden sharp intake of breath comes from the figure standing over him. “Dear God.” The figure wheels. “Get out. Now.”
“He’s dangerous, boss. Almost killed Misha.”
“I said get out. And close the goddamned door behind you.”
The bodyguard backs out, almost bowing, and closes the door. Nikolai tries to smile as the figure bends close. “Hello, Janus.”
“Kolya. What in God’s name…?” Alec peers at him, his eyes widening at the tattoos that cover Nikolai’s body. “What have you done to yourself?” He shakes his head.
Nikolai’s vision begins to clear. “Alyosha…your face.” He stares at the twisted flesh, a bright pink roadmap of hardened tissue.
“We’re both scarred,” Alec replies. Neither his voice nor his eyes are kind. “What are you doing here?”
“Looking for Janus.”
“You’ve found him. Congratulations.” Alec takes a silver-handled blade from his pocket. “I can’t free your hands – they’ll suspect something.” He cuts the ropes binding Nikolai’s knees and ankles, and rises to his feet. “Let me help you. Steady – steady.” He guides Nikolai to a chair, helps him into it, and takes off his coat. He stares hard-eyed at Nikolai’s tattoos, then sighs and drapes the coat over Nikolai’s shoulders.
The coat, soft black cashmere lined with aubergine silk, is warm from Alec’s body. “Thank you.”
“Kolya, if you’re looking for some sort of vor stronghold….” Alec sighs again. “They’re only employees. You’ve made a wrong turn.”
“I hear you have connections.”
“You know better than that. The vor are nothing – incidental. But still you chase them. You look like one of them now.” Alec takes Nikolai’s chin in his hand, tilting it upward. “You’ve disfigured yourself permanently. You’re damned lucky those idiots out there just think you were stealing from me, you know that?”
Nikolai nods. “I know. Do me a favor – don’t damage my cover.”
A short laugh escapes Alec before he can stop himself. He kneels and strokes Nikolai’s face, and the cold anger is gone, replaced by unexpected tenderness. “What am I going to do with you? I can’t just let you walk away.”
“I’d probably freeze to death if you did,” Nikolai replies. “Alyosha, what happened to your face?”
“It’s a long story, Kolyushenka.”
“Janus,” Nikolai remarks softly.
“Yes.” Alec rests his warm hands on Nikolai’s naked, tattooed thighs, and leans forward until their foreheads touch. “Shall we make a bargain? I don’t damage your cover, and you don’t betray me.”
Nikolai hesitates. “You’re a hunted man, you know.”
“I know.” Alec takes out the silver-handled blade and opens it, regarding it silently. “And I’ve captured a hunter.” He holds the blade to Nikolai’s throat. “You know what the vor do to those who’ve obtained their tattoos falsely, don’t you?”
Nikolai feels the barest edge of the blade resting against his skin. “Yes. They cut the tattoos out.”
“Of living flesh.” Alec draws a fingertip over the crucifix on Nikolai’s chest. “It’s excruciating, I understand.”
“So I hear.”
Slowly, Alec leans forward and brushes his lips against Nikolai’s, then kisses him, pushing his tongue into Nikolai’s mouth, forcing himself upon Nikolai. The blade stays, whispering over sensitive skin. Nikolai tenses against the ropes on his wrists, his hands curling reflexively. He has promised nothing. Alec could cut his throat and dump his body in the Neva, and no one would be the wiser. His superiors are not expecting a progress report for another week. He has no family to care if he goes missing. He has no lovers. His acquaintances are few, none he can call friend. He is helpless, and alone.
Alec pulls back and folds the blade, slipping it into his pocket. He takes Nikolai’s face in his hands. There is pain on his face, and hazily, Nikolai wonders if the burns are making him suffer. “Outcasts,” Alec says quietly, “both of us, Kolyushenka.”
“We always have been,” Nikolai replies. “Only now….”
“Only now, it shows.” Alec bends and kisses a bare spot on Nikolai’s belly. He kisses up Nikolai’s chest, and reaches his throat. He kisses tenderly now, his arms clasping Nikolai close.
“What will you do?”
“I’ll think of something.” A soft, bitter laugh escapes him. “Who knows. Perhaps someday we’ll meet again, under more auspicious circumstances.” Alec’s mouth moves against Nikolai’s pulse, his voice full of impending loss. “I trust you, Kolyushenka.”
Nikolai’s soul bleeds, but he says nothing. He closes his eyes, and absorbs Alec’s touch.
End.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2012-01-24 09:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-24 06:06 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-24 09:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-24 06:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-24 10:15 am (UTC)Thank you Alex for again a superb script for a mind-cinematic picture of two human, feeling, lonely yet loving men. Glorious.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-24 06:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-24 11:18 am (UTC)Nikolai sits back on the sofa and surreptitiously watches Alec. He occupies his space like a great golden cat, long-stemmed and indolent, but ready for the kill, should the opportunity arise. He senses Alec’s growing restlessness. *sighs*
The sex is wonderful, too.
He kneels and strokes Nikolai’s face, and the cold anger is gone, replaced by unexpected tenderness. “What am I going to do with you? I can’t just let you walk away.” Such harsh, dsngerous men and still there is tenderness between them. I love that.
Did I say the sex is wonderful (and incredibly hot|)?
Nikolai’s soul bleeds, but he says nothing. He closes his eyes, and absorbs Alec’s touch.
Beautiful, just beautiful.
no subject
Date: 2012-01-24 06:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-24 11:38 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-01-24 03:09 pm (UTC)Brilliantly imagined - I fear there is no exit, no escape nor happy ending for these two star crossed lovers. Yet strangely I find their love is almost as pure, gentle and innocent as any Romeo and Juliet.
Wonderful tour de force.
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Date: 2012-01-24 06:38 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-01-24 09:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-24 10:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-25 02:30 am (UTC)Lovely!
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Date: 2012-01-25 04:50 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-25 07:23 am (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2012-01-25 11:54 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-26 03:58 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-27 04:26 pm (UTC)This is gorgeous. ♥
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Date: 2012-01-28 08:24 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-01-30 12:05 am (UTC)Love this, of course.
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Date: 2012-01-30 03:05 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-03 11:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-03 03:42 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-03 08:12 pm (UTC)