[ kaz has been valuable for a time, by some definitions. the most important member of haskell’s crew, even when he lay on the sofa in his office with a broken leg. none but his prized, frightening lieutenant would have received such a treatment. now, there’s the twenty million kruge bounty on his head, whispered across the underworld. neither reflects nikolai’s view of him. a thing to be held, shielded from the oncoming storms and changing tides. despite all kaz’s scheming, there’s no dissuading him of this belief.
and when it leads to nikolai, smiling just for him and kissing those tender places, he chafes against it less. this, at least, he’s grown to understand, though it’s no less destabilising. his stuttered breath interrupts nikolai’s chatter.
there must be a bruise on his hip, from the demon’s grip (that nikolai would deem carelessness but kaz thinks of as something more sinister, marking). kaz forces a shaky inhale as nikolai touches him through his underwear and asks him to make good on his threat. his own wants unspool, heat coursing through him.
it’s nikolai, he tells himself. it’s always nikolai — but he settles between kaz’s thighs just like the night before and caresses the demon’s mark. an unreadable expression crosses his face, pupils dark and unfocused. the line between man and monster is thinner than either thinks, even in idle movements. kaz covers nikolai’s hand with his own and pushes it into the bandaged skin until he feels the burn. the pleasure-pain of touching a fresh bruise. surely no one has ever looked at him like this, want cutting through sandy lashes. not at all like last night, with nothingness reflected in the black gaze before him.
eyes rapt on nikolai, his pulse speeds up. ]
You must have an idea. [ of what he might do on his own. kaz knows the answer is yes: that for all the nights that they drove each other away, nikolai still managed to think of him. a boy whose wanting is without end.
they’re as different in this as they are in all things, however — kaz wonders if in nikolai’s fantasies, he moves quickly and doggedly, like nikolai does in life, kissing as fast as he talks. in reality, he’s measured, meticulous, but then nikolai knows that, too, having been on the receiving end of his patience. lifting his hand away from nikolai’s, he grinds into the heel of his palm, slow and easy. it occurs to him that nikolai won’t like that he can’t see, not really. ]
So, you’ll have to tell me how I compare. [ to the fantasy. that imagined kaz is surely a simpler creature to manage than this one, trading one demand for another. he peels down his underwear until the bunched fabric meets nikolai’s hand on his thigh, cock halfway hard. a flush creeps under his hiked shirt, rucked higher up his chest by his shifts. he’s nowhere near the nerves of the first time but perhaps this is the closest — with nikolai watching. it’s overwhelming enough that he momentarily forgets why he was hesitant at all, absorbed by the idea of meeting this challenge. kaz gets a hand around himself and strokes steadily, grateful for the relief and distraction. a hissed breath through his teeth, eyes shuttering and then slitting. could go on like this, but nikolai is there — a practiced twist of his wrist, and he sighs.
kaz hitches himself up on his elbows, leverage enough to use his other hand to catch nikolai’s jaw. two fingers rest against his lips, a blatant request. ]
Suppose I’d normally do this part, too, but — [ his shoulders bunch in a shrug. there’s a wry edge to his usual scrape, pushing through his uneven breaths. you’re here. kaz presses his fingers into nikolai’s mouth, curling against his tongue. ]
no subject
and when it leads to nikolai, smiling just for him and kissing those tender places, he chafes against it less. this, at least, he’s grown to understand, though it’s no less destabilising. his stuttered breath interrupts nikolai’s chatter.
there must be a bruise on his hip, from the demon’s grip (that nikolai would deem carelessness but kaz thinks of as something more sinister, marking). kaz forces a shaky inhale as nikolai touches him through his underwear and asks him to make good on his threat. his own wants unspool, heat coursing through him.
it’s nikolai, he tells himself. it’s always nikolai — but he settles between kaz’s thighs just like the night before and caresses the demon’s mark. an unreadable expression crosses his face, pupils dark and unfocused. the line between man and monster is thinner than either thinks, even in idle movements. kaz covers nikolai’s hand with his own and pushes it into the bandaged skin until he feels the burn. the pleasure-pain of touching a fresh bruise. surely no one has ever looked at him like this, want cutting through sandy lashes. not at all like last night, with nothingness reflected in the black gaze before him.
eyes rapt on nikolai, his pulse speeds up. ]
You must have an idea. [ of what he might do on his own. kaz knows the answer is yes: that for all the nights that they drove each other away, nikolai still managed to think of him. a boy whose wanting is without end.
they’re as different in this as they are in all things, however — kaz wonders if in nikolai’s fantasies, he moves quickly and doggedly, like nikolai does in life, kissing as fast as he talks. in reality, he’s measured, meticulous, but then nikolai knows that, too, having been on the receiving end of his patience. lifting his hand away from nikolai’s, he grinds into the heel of his palm, slow and easy. it occurs to him that nikolai won’t like that he can’t see, not really. ]
So, you’ll have to tell me how I compare. [ to the fantasy. that imagined kaz is surely a simpler creature to manage than this one, trading one demand for another. he peels down his underwear until the bunched fabric meets nikolai’s hand on his thigh, cock halfway hard. a flush creeps under his hiked shirt, rucked higher up his chest by his shifts. he’s nowhere near the nerves of the first time but perhaps this is the closest — with nikolai watching. it’s overwhelming enough that he momentarily forgets why he was hesitant at all, absorbed by the idea of meeting this challenge. kaz gets a hand around himself and strokes steadily, grateful for the relief and distraction. a hissed breath through his teeth, eyes shuttering and then slitting. could go on like this, but nikolai is there — a practiced twist of his wrist, and he sighs.
kaz hitches himself up on his elbows, leverage enough to use his other hand to catch nikolai’s jaw. two fingers rest against his lips, a blatant request. ]
Suppose I’d normally do this part, too, but — [ his shoulders bunch in a shrug. there’s a wry edge to his usual scrape, pushing through his uneven breaths. you’re here. kaz presses his fingers into nikolai’s mouth, curling against his tongue. ]