[ it canāt be both. because kaz canāt bear to lose nikolai. and he can no longer remove himself from the situation, even if he wanted to, after inviting the demon into his veins. there can be no retreat from this maze, thorny knots and tangles ensnaring them at every turn. the only way out is through.
and the only acceptable result is to win.
despite his protests, nikolai wonāt leave. not today. not right now. his hand squeezes tighter, and he presses closer, lips brushing his cheek. a shudder, then, at the aching tenderness of the act or the words that precede it. i know you wouldnāt. kaz has been telling himself he doesnāt need nikolaiās trust or faith but, well ā having it rattles that falsehood until it comes loose. a bluff. heās confident because he can win. he needs to win. and nikolai needs to start believing in him ā or he needs to earn back that belief after proving himself undeserving in ravka and kerch.
for a moment, he allows himself the illusion of having accomplished that already, with nikolai gifting him a reverent sort of affection. kaz closes his eyes, savouring it until it ends, like always. ]
Oh, I neednāt waste my time. [ complaining or bickering, when nikolai has already made his move. youāre the job sparks a hundred new tactics, fizzing with possibilities. he hooks two fingers on nikolaiās necklaces. they both leave the other out of their schemes. itās an irritation dulled by nikolai touching him freely again, perhaps for the first time since he arrived in ketterdam: dragging a heat trail up his leg, otherwise cool in the cabin air; still holding his fingers tight while grazing the soft skin of his stomach, under his wrinkled shirt. like he canāt get enough of these vulnerable places. kaz would bleed and bleed and bleed, if nikolai cut him there.
slanting his gaze at nikolai from a new angle, assessing, he counters dryly ā ]
As the money ā and the prize, apparently. [ to be protected, at all costs. a ridiculous idea. surely even nikolaiās crew donāt view him as something that needs shepherding. more likely heās the subject of suspicion, jealousy, disdain or dispassion. a curiosity that their captain entertains. no doubt his crew will have questions about this cover as well, whispered at the first opportunity, though itās not unusual for him to leave them in the dark.
his touch follows the chains to their latches at nikolaiās neck, and he considers unhooking them just to be a nuisance. a more rewarding idea supplants it, with kaz pulling nikolai down to meet him in the middle. his lips brush the corner of nikolaiās mouth, careful and intent. impossible not to be greedy for this intimacy, for nikolai. only a kiss would be ā the very thing he invited from the demon and confessed to allowing a second time, if not desiring it outright. wont to invoke their shadow, kaz chases the pulse in nikolaiās throat instead. a scrape of teeth suggests he might match the marks left on his neck, though theyāre not what he thinks of now. the bite at his thigh pangs fresh. wildly intimate. he would press the crescent until it bled anew, if nikolai werenāt here. he grasps nikolaiās collar between his thumb and forefinger, tugging it away to kiss an apology where his neck meets his shoulder. ]
[ leaning back, ] Iām not particularly tired. [ their twined hands shift lower on his hip, knuckles brushing the waistband of his underwear. ] But I can find a way to exhaust myself, if you want to leave me in your bed so badly. [ after waking from that wretched dream, with nikolai corpselike beside him, itās a laughable suggestion. yet he carries the lie and its roguish implications. nikolaiās performative disposition is catching. (and what good would it do to share his nightmares with nikolai? the manās drowning in his own.) ]
Then you can ā tie knots? Haul the anchor? [ important captain business, far more interesting than whatever kaz brekker might get up to in his room, in his bed. he pulls his hand away from nikolaiās person, folding it behind his head, as if making himself comfortable. ] Keep watch at the foot of the bed, sobachka? [ ensuring his safe passage above all else. ridiculous. there are genuine questions hidden inside this teasing: how close will nikolai linger in their remaining six days? and how does nikolai mean to navigate the final night? when the monster expects blood ā and theyāve weeks to go before this ājobā ends in fjerda. ] Iād hate to distract the captain from his duties.
You're rather valuable these days. Maybe worth more than the going rate of a king in his prime. [ effectively caught, he doesn't fight the drag of his own chains and is rewarded for his good behavior with the most tender of kisses. it's almost odd to be kissed like this, like a thing revered. he was a thing more or less revered, only he had to keep himself just out of the range of intimacy for his entire kingship for fear of turning any such companion into his next meal.
touch is still not a thing he plans to take for granted anytime soon, and he seizes the opportunity to take part, relinquishing his hold on kaz's hand only to smooth his palm along the cut of his hip, flicking the edge of his shirttails away to curl his fingers into the band of his underwear. ]
You would throw down a gauntlet and then tell me to go haul the anchor? [ trepidation makes way for a smile, his shadow briefly forgotten. all he feels in this moment must be his alone, for how achingly familiar it is. ] I'll have you know, Brekker, that you can't drop an anchor into the open sea. It would never reach the seabed. [ important things to note. with kaz settled smugly upon the pillows, nikolai takes the opportunity to slip lower, pressing his lips to the flat of his stomach. ] However, in case we run into a storm and can't make port ā if the Saints truly forsake us, an extremely likely scenario ā we would drop a drogue in the hopes that we might stay straight on. Then you might see me haul something.
[ a wash of desire spills over him despite his babbling. he nudges at kaz's uninjured leg to spread his thighs, his mouth hovering but not making contact. his mind slowly, regrettably, catches up. is he giving the monster what it wants? nikolai himself wants this urgently enough that he wishes badly not to care. a slow breath eases out of him, coin pendants and gaudy jewels pooling in the fork of kaz's thighs as he gazes up, sliding his fingers out of his waistband. ]
So, show me. [ he traces his thumb along the soft outline of kaz's cock in a gentle up and down motion, but doesn't press further. doubt edges into his heart, a slow poison. not fast enough to kill him yet. without thinking, his hand settles at kaz's bandaged thigh, his fingertips resting directly above where the demon's fangs penetrated yielding flesh. heat suffuses his skin, from want. from hunger. he shakes the latter away, a quickening thrum filling his senses that he abruptly realizes is kaz's fluttering pulse. he lets out a huff of breath between a laugh and a sigh. ] Since the prize is so confident now. Show me what you would do.
[ kaz has been valuable for a time, by some definitions. the most important member of haskellās 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, thereās the twenty million kruge bounty on his head, whispered across the underworld. neither reflects nikolaiās view of him. a thing to be held, shielded from the oncoming storms and changing tides. despite all kazās scheming, thereās 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, heās grown to understand, though itās no less destabilising. his stuttered breath interrupts nikolaiās chatter.
there must be a bruise on his hip, from the demonās 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.
itās nikolai, he tells himself. itās always nikolai ā but he settles between kazās thighs just like the night before and caresses the demonās 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 nikolaiās 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.
theyāre as different in this as they are in all things, however ā kaz wonders if in nikolaiās fantasies, he moves quickly and doggedly, like nikolai does in life, kissing as fast as he talks. in reality, heās measured, meticulous, but then nikolai knows that, too, having been on the receiving end of his patience. lifting his hand away from nikolaiās, he grinds into the heel of his palm, slow and easy. it occurs to him that nikolai wonāt like that he canāt see, not really. ]
So, youāll 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 nikolaiās hand on his thigh, cock halfway hard. a flush creeps under his hiked shirt, rucked higher up his chest by his shifts. heās nowhere near the nerves of the first time but perhaps this is the closest ā with nikolai watching. itās 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 ā 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 nikolaiās jaw. two fingers rest against his lips, a blatant request. ]
Suppose Iād normally do this part, too, but ā [ his shoulders bunch in a shrug. thereās a wry edge to his usual scrape, pushing through his uneven breaths. youāre here. kaz presses his fingers into nikolaiās mouth, curling against his tongue. ]
[ the tenuous excitement of this moment isn't unfamiliar, but there's a new sort of caution that holds nikolai steady where he might have once tested a boundary out of his own eagerness. that he doesn't know the minute details of his shadow's encounter hasn't been forgotten. despite his seemingly casual reservation, he watches kaz with the sun's intensity, but can't seem to break through the clouds surrounding kaz's gaze, turning his dark eyes impenetrable. there could be a hundred different reasons for it, and his mind begins the fevered task of shuffling through each one.
touch brings him back. it takes him several belated moments to realize he's bearing down on kaz's bite, that there's no blood but there is a heat emanating against the palm of his hand that he should not be quite so aware of. his expression falters, uncharacteristic of him. you must have an idea, and saints, he does, but he valiantly tries not to think of it, because nothing in his mind feels safe anymore. nothing feels like it belongs just to him. heās a moment from pulling his hand away when kaz pushes fabric against his fingers instead, and, instinctively, he lifts kazās hips from the bed and slips his underwear down the length of his legs, tossing it aside. so much for stopping anything, when kaz started this with what could have been a thoughtless comment and nikolai stubbornly took the bait. ]
It doesnāt compare. Not to you. [ not to the sight before him, the private intimacy of this action, the absolute recklessness that kaz doesnāt think to hold a gun to his head while he strokes himself. maybe he does think it. hopefully he at least thinks it. ] I canāt contain you to a dream.
[ not for lack of trying. he canāt contain him at all, because kaz brekker will do what kaz brekker wants, and nikolai can despair to the ends of the earth and it wonāt change a thing. a new thought emerges when kazās fingers drop like cold brimstone to his lips: he wouldnāt want to. a softly muffled breath, as his tongue meets kazās fingertips. how has he earned this? only the saints know.
he begins to say something ā amazing that i didnāt have to tell you to ask ā only it comes out completely unintelligible, and a man can only be expected to hold still for so long. kazās pulse flutters rapidly beneath his grip when he takes his wrist, extracting his fingers from his mouth only after theyāre thoroughly soaked, and guides his hand away. ]
Let me. [ he sinks down between the fork of his legs, his breath cascading over his flushed cock. careful hands slide across kazās thighs, his eager mouth kissing along soft skin. his lashes flutter to view kaz rosy as a plucked flower against the pillows. is this what the monster had seen? is he giving it what it wants? he pushes forward and takes kaz in his mouth, his eyes pressing shut, one hand braced gently beneath his injured leg. he wants this, and he wants to say they shouldnāt do this again until ā until what? until he has a better handle on himself, which could be in six days, or it could be never.
his other hand skates along his side in subconscious gravitation to grip the bruise at his hip hard enough to darken it. under the sunās shifting rays, itās hard to tell whether the fragments of black that live beneath nikolaiās skin spread anew or if itās a simple trick of the light. his mouth works in unyielding ministrations, cognizant of the rise and fall of kazās breath, of how close he is to a precipice ā and pulling off when heās nearly there, agile fingers replacing the heat of his mouth. he slinks up, reddened lips catching kazās mouth in an insistent kiss, a new kind of desperation behind it. ]
People arenāt things. Youāre always telling me that. [ kaz will never be his; kaz will never be anyoneās. itās a lesson nikolai never thought to learn. his hand moves between them in firm, practiced strokes, relentless. ] But I need something to make me theirs. [ to live for himself is a foreign, meaningless concept. thereās always been a war, a country, a cause. ] Something that isnāt my monster.
[ you. he nearly says it, but his tongue slips into kazās warm, willing mouth instead, swallowing the word. ]
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no subject
and the only acceptable result is to win.
despite his protests, nikolai wonāt leave. not today. not right now. his hand squeezes tighter, and he presses closer, lips brushing his cheek. a shudder, then, at the aching tenderness of the act or the words that precede it. i know you wouldnāt. kaz has been telling himself he doesnāt need nikolaiās trust or faith but, well ā having it rattles that falsehood until it comes loose. a bluff. heās confident because he can win. he needs to win. and nikolai needs to start believing in him ā or he needs to earn back that belief after proving himself undeserving in ravka and kerch.
for a moment, he allows himself the illusion of having accomplished that already, with nikolai gifting him a reverent sort of affection. kaz closes his eyes, savouring it until it ends, like always. ]
Oh, I neednāt waste my time. [ complaining or bickering, when nikolai has already made his move. youāre the job sparks a hundred new tactics, fizzing with possibilities. he hooks two fingers on nikolaiās necklaces. they both leave the other out of their schemes. itās an irritation dulled by nikolai touching him freely again, perhaps for the first time since he arrived in ketterdam: dragging a heat trail up his leg, otherwise cool in the cabin air; still holding his fingers tight while grazing the soft skin of his stomach, under his wrinkled shirt. like he canāt get enough of these vulnerable places. kaz would bleed and bleed and bleed, if nikolai cut him there.
slanting his gaze at nikolai from a new angle, assessing, he counters dryly ā ]
As the money ā and the prize, apparently. [ to be protected, at all costs. a ridiculous idea. surely even nikolaiās crew donāt view him as something that needs shepherding. more likely heās the subject of suspicion, jealousy, disdain or dispassion. a curiosity that their captain entertains. no doubt his crew will have questions about this cover as well, whispered at the first opportunity, though itās not unusual for him to leave them in the dark.
his touch follows the chains to their latches at nikolaiās neck, and he considers unhooking them just to be a nuisance. a more rewarding idea supplants it, with kaz pulling nikolai down to meet him in the middle. his lips brush the corner of nikolaiās mouth, careful and intent. impossible not to be greedy for this intimacy, for nikolai. only a kiss would be ā the very thing he invited from the demon and confessed to allowing a second time, if not desiring it outright. wont to invoke their shadow, kaz chases the pulse in nikolaiās throat instead. a scrape of teeth suggests he might match the marks left on his neck, though theyāre not what he thinks of now. the bite at his thigh pangs fresh. wildly intimate. he would press the crescent until it bled anew, if nikolai werenāt here. he grasps nikolaiās collar between his thumb and forefinger, tugging it away to kiss an apology where his neck meets his shoulder. ]
[ leaning back, ] Iām not particularly tired. [ their twined hands shift lower on his hip, knuckles brushing the waistband of his underwear. ] But I can find a way to exhaust myself, if you want to leave me in your bed so badly. [ after waking from that wretched dream, with nikolai corpselike beside him, itās a laughable suggestion. yet he carries the lie and its roguish implications. nikolaiās performative disposition is catching. (and what good would it do to share his nightmares with nikolai? the manās drowning in his own.) ]
Then you can ā tie knots? Haul the anchor? [ important captain business, far more interesting than whatever kaz brekker might get up to in his room, in his bed. he pulls his hand away from nikolaiās person, folding it behind his head, as if making himself comfortable. ] Keep watch at the foot of the bed, sobachka? [ ensuring his safe passage above all else. ridiculous. there are genuine questions hidden inside this teasing: how close will nikolai linger in their remaining six days? and how does nikolai mean to navigate the final night? when the monster expects blood ā and theyāve weeks to go before this ājobā ends in fjerda. ] Iād hate to distract the captain from his duties.
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touch is still not a thing he plans to take for granted anytime soon, and he seizes the opportunity to take part, relinquishing his hold on kaz's hand only to smooth his palm along the cut of his hip, flicking the edge of his shirttails away to curl his fingers into the band of his underwear. ]
You would throw down a gauntlet and then tell me to go haul the anchor? [ trepidation makes way for a smile, his shadow briefly forgotten. all he feels in this moment must be his alone, for how achingly familiar it is. ] I'll have you know, Brekker, that you can't drop an anchor into the open sea. It would never reach the seabed. [ important things to note. with kaz settled smugly upon the pillows, nikolai takes the opportunity to slip lower, pressing his lips to the flat of his stomach. ] However, in case we run into a storm and can't make port ā if the Saints truly forsake us, an extremely likely scenario ā we would drop a drogue in the hopes that we might stay straight on. Then you might see me haul something.
[ a wash of desire spills over him despite his babbling. he nudges at kaz's uninjured leg to spread his thighs, his mouth hovering but not making contact. his mind slowly, regrettably, catches up. is he giving the monster what it wants? nikolai himself wants this urgently enough that he wishes badly not to care. a slow breath eases out of him, coin pendants and gaudy jewels pooling in the fork of kaz's thighs as he gazes up, sliding his fingers out of his waistband. ]
So, show me. [ he traces his thumb along the soft outline of kaz's cock in a gentle up and down motion, but doesn't press further. doubt edges into his heart, a slow poison. not fast enough to kill him yet. without thinking, his hand settles at kaz's bandaged thigh, his fingertips resting directly above where the demon's fangs penetrated yielding flesh. heat suffuses his skin, from want. from hunger. he shakes the latter away, a quickening thrum filling his senses that he abruptly realizes is kaz's fluttering pulse. he lets out a huff of breath between a laugh and a sigh. ] Since the prize is so confident now. Show me what you would do.
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, heās grown to understand, though itās no less destabilising. his stuttered breath interrupts nikolaiās chatter.
there must be a bruise on his hip, from the demonās 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.
itās nikolai, he tells himself. itās always nikolai ā but he settles between kazās thighs just like the night before and caresses the demonās 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 nikolaiās 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.
theyāre as different in this as they are in all things, however ā kaz wonders if in nikolaiās fantasies, he moves quickly and doggedly, like nikolai does in life, kissing as fast as he talks. in reality, heās measured, meticulous, but then nikolai knows that, too, having been on the receiving end of his patience. lifting his hand away from nikolaiās, he grinds into the heel of his palm, slow and easy. it occurs to him that nikolai wonāt like that he canāt see, not really. ]
So, youāll 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 nikolaiās hand on his thigh, cock halfway hard. a flush creeps under his hiked shirt, rucked higher up his chest by his shifts. heās nowhere near the nerves of the first time but perhaps this is the closest ā with nikolai watching. itās 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 ā 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 nikolaiās jaw. two fingers rest against his lips, a blatant request. ]
Suppose Iād normally do this part, too, but ā [ his shoulders bunch in a shrug. thereās a wry edge to his usual scrape, pushing through his uneven breaths. youāre here. kaz presses his fingers into nikolaiās mouth, curling against his tongue. ]
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touch brings him back. it takes him several belated moments to realize he's bearing down on kaz's bite, that there's no blood but there is a heat emanating against the palm of his hand that he should not be quite so aware of. his expression falters, uncharacteristic of him. you must have an idea, and saints, he does, but he valiantly tries not to think of it, because nothing in his mind feels safe anymore. nothing feels like it belongs just to him. heās a moment from pulling his hand away when kaz pushes fabric against his fingers instead, and, instinctively, he lifts kazās hips from the bed and slips his underwear down the length of his legs, tossing it aside. so much for stopping anything, when kaz started this with what could have been a thoughtless comment and nikolai stubbornly took the bait. ]
It doesnāt compare. Not to you. [ not to the sight before him, the private intimacy of this action, the absolute recklessness that kaz doesnāt think to hold a gun to his head while he strokes himself. maybe he does think it. hopefully he at least thinks it. ] I canāt contain you to a dream.
[ not for lack of trying. he canāt contain him at all, because kaz brekker will do what kaz brekker wants, and nikolai can despair to the ends of the earth and it wonāt change a thing. a new thought emerges when kazās fingers drop like cold brimstone to his lips: he wouldnāt want to. a softly muffled breath, as his tongue meets kazās fingertips. how has he earned this? only the saints know.
he begins to say something ā amazing that i didnāt have to tell you to ask ā only it comes out completely unintelligible, and a man can only be expected to hold still for so long. kazās pulse flutters rapidly beneath his grip when he takes his wrist, extracting his fingers from his mouth only after theyāre thoroughly soaked, and guides his hand away. ]
Let me. [ he sinks down between the fork of his legs, his breath cascading over his flushed cock. careful hands slide across kazās thighs, his eager mouth kissing along soft skin. his lashes flutter to view kaz rosy as a plucked flower against the pillows. is this what the monster had seen? is he giving it what it wants? he pushes forward and takes kaz in his mouth, his eyes pressing shut, one hand braced gently beneath his injured leg. he wants this, and he wants to say they shouldnāt do this again until ā until what? until he has a better handle on himself, which could be in six days, or it could be never.
his other hand skates along his side in subconscious gravitation to grip the bruise at his hip hard enough to darken it. under the sunās shifting rays, itās hard to tell whether the fragments of black that live beneath nikolaiās skin spread anew or if itās a simple trick of the light. his mouth works in unyielding ministrations, cognizant of the rise and fall of kazās breath, of how close he is to a precipice ā and pulling off when heās nearly there, agile fingers replacing the heat of his mouth. he slinks up, reddened lips catching kazās mouth in an insistent kiss, a new kind of desperation behind it. ]
People arenāt things. Youāre always telling me that. [ kaz will never be his; kaz will never be anyoneās. itās a lesson nikolai never thought to learn. his hand moves between them in firm, practiced strokes, relentless. ] But I need something to make me theirs. [ to live for himself is a foreign, meaningless concept. thereās always been a war, a country, a cause. ] Something that isnāt my monster.
[ you. he nearly says it, but his tongue slips into kazās warm, willing mouth instead, swallowing the word. ]