You're right. I should scold him in return. ( nods, resolved. ) Dangerous and weird are his charm points, though. My Kolya wouldn't be himself otherwise.
[ he also omits the part where their parting is inevitable because he plans to kill fyodor one day. that's irrelevant now, when their faces are so close, and he has no choice but to lean in and kiss his lips, chaste and clean, lasting only a few lingering seconds. ]
( what's a relationship without some secrets? although, well, fyodor can make an educated guess about nikolai's endgame - the curse of being a genius, maybe.
for now, none of that matters.
the kiss is greeted with a small smile; he motions for nikolai to come sit with him, instead, because keeping his head turned like this is annoying. )
Will you stand behind me forever? My neck will hurt. ( :( he's delicate )
it takes him by surprise, for sure. he laughs under his breath, holding onto the offered wrist with his free hand; slender and transparent, warm and cold at the same time. a miracle of blood and heartlessness - something only possible for someone like fyodor, he thinks. ]
It's the Antiques Roadshow, coming to a town near you!
[ he wastes no time to press his tongue against the exposed skin, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh until he draws blood, immediately lapping it up to not waste a drop. ]
( his skin is all but translucent, blue veins visible beneath; he watches, some sort of idle interest reflected in his eyes, as nikolai takes his arm in hands and sinks his sharp teeth into flesh.
a small hiss escapes his lips, then; it's a momentary sting, immediately soothed by both the blood and the other's tongue. )
It's the books I worried about, not myself. ( and speaking of, he's going to put that book away with his free hand, turning his shoulders towards nikolai. ) You can get me dirty; I'm not pure in the first place.
( just going to... push that arm up, a little, further against nikolai's teeth. )
[ right, he did say the books, and he was rather insistent that he himself is not a clean person. nikolai remembers, but he doesn't fully agree. fyodor is otherworldly, like a fairy or a demon - both pure creatures at their core.
nikolai might not fully understand fyodor, nor does he want to, but he's gotten pretty good at reading the air when they’re together. in a twisted way, knowing each other's intentions means there's no secrets between them - at least, none that matter. he would never kill fyodor in such a mundane way, and he's sure if fyodor wanted to kill him he'd be dead by now. it gives this moment a special meaning; fyodor rarely gets to experience pain, and nikolai gets to be the one that fulfills that bizarre need.
when fyodor turns to face him completely and presses his arm further, nikolai pulls the arm he had around him so he could hold onto fyodor's with both hands, his face heating up with excitement, almost salivating. ]
You're wonderful, Fedya. Beautiful and intricate, like a maze of pure marble where all the exits lead to an infinite sea of ink-black waters.
[ he presses his tongue on his wrist again, this time aiding himself with his thumbs to coerce more blood to spill from his bite mark. when it feels like it’s about to run dry, he sinks his teeth in again— hard, letting a thick stream of red run down his skin before drinking that as well with slow, deliberate laps of his tongue, eyes closed, his breath shaking in ecstasy. ]
( it's unlike fyodor, to hold anyone in high regard — and yet, he can't help but marvel at nikolai's endless bravery, as he touches him the way he would a lover, rather than a poisonous snake. as he drinks his blood — which many would call dirty, noxious — as if it were heavenly, instead. it's not surprising, but it still makes the breath in his throat catch, momentarily; he's not used to pain, much less being touched so freely, and so — every sensation nikolai so graciously provides him feels like he's discovering something new altogether.
his shoulders shake, as the sting of the bites settles in properly; nikolai's teeth sink into flesh again, and fyodor hisses, feeling his body tense up — and then relax into the sensation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, head falling back against the couch's backrest.
it hurts. it feels good. the distinction between these two is blurry, at best. )
You look happy. Does poison taste that good, Kolya? ( his lips curve in a small smile; of course, his blood isn't going to harm the other, but —
considering just touching him could, doesn't that still count as something lethal, at best? like gently caressing the tip of a blade, rather than a person. )
You're the only one to ever taste it and survive. So special.
[ he doesn’t respond right away, licking and cleaning in even intervals, his red gloves dyed with an even deeper red where he carelessly let some drops fall onto the fabric. ]
Mn. It's because I know this is special that the taste is elevated.
[ but, if he remembers correctly... ]
This is your prize, remember? And I recall I also said your neck...
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But, ah... don't tell Nikolai. He might get upset.
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Oh, will he? You think so? Is he your lover?
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( hmmm!! )
Should I tell him we're just coworkers?
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[ full sigma rper now. ]
Who does he think he is? You know, there's no reason to put up with him. He sounds dangerous and weird.
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You're right. I should scold him in return. ( nods, resolved. ) Dangerous and weird are his charm points, though. My Kolya wouldn't be himself otherwise.
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[ recoils ]
Maybe you two truly are meant for each other...
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( sneering, he turns his head to look at nikolai. )
Don't you think so, Kolya?
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. . . I don't think so, no.
Rather, I hope we're not.
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( he's the worst person you know he's but he's also your wife? )
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[ but he tilts his chin so their faces are close together. ]
I should have killed the ones texting you sweet nothings, however.
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( he's so understanding, see? smile, smile. )
Aha. Maybe another time.
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[ oh… doki again… ]
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( spoken with a gentle smile while looking him right in the eye.
the part where he admits it's because nikolai can be really useful is ofc omitted. )
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[ he also omits the part where their parting is inevitable because he plans to kill fyodor one day. that's irrelevant now, when their faces are so close, and he has no choice but to lean in and kiss his lips, chaste and clean, lasting only a few lingering seconds. ]
I shall never leave you.
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for now, none of that matters.
the kiss is greeted with a small smile; he motions for nikolai to come sit with him, instead, because keeping his head turned like this is annoying. )
Will you stand behind me forever? My neck will hurt. ( :( he's delicate )
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What am I interrupting?
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I'm brushing up on my Japanese; nothing important. ( guy who doesn't need to do Alla that )
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[ here comes an arm to wrap around his shoulders. ]
Want to make out with me instead?
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First... ( he rolls one of his sleeves up, sticking his wrist up to kolya's lips. ) Your reward.
( bite :) )
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it takes him by surprise, for sure. he laughs under his breath, holding onto the offered wrist with his free hand; slender and transparent, warm and cold at the same time. a miracle of blood and heartlessness - something only possible for someone like fyodor, he thinks. ]
It's the Antiques Roadshow, coming to a town near you!
[ he wastes no time to press his tongue against the exposed skin, sinking his teeth into the soft flesh until he draws blood, immediately lapping it up to not waste a drop. ]
You did ask me not to get you dirty, after all.
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a small hiss escapes his lips, then; it's a momentary sting, immediately soothed by both the blood and the other's tongue. )
It's the books I worried about, not myself. ( and speaking of, he's going to put that book away with his free hand, turning his shoulders towards nikolai. ) You can get me dirty; I'm not pure in the first place.
( just going to... push that arm up, a little, further against nikolai's teeth. )
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nikolai might not fully understand fyodor, nor does he want to, but he's gotten pretty good at reading the air when they’re together. in a twisted way, knowing each other's intentions means there's no secrets between them - at least, none that matter. he would never kill fyodor in such a mundane way, and he's sure if fyodor wanted to kill him he'd be dead by now. it gives this moment a special meaning; fyodor rarely gets to experience pain, and nikolai gets to be the one that fulfills that bizarre need.
when fyodor turns to face him completely and presses his arm further, nikolai pulls the arm he had around him so he could hold onto fyodor's with both hands, his face heating up with excitement, almost salivating. ]
You're wonderful, Fedya. Beautiful and intricate, like a maze of pure marble where all the exits lead to an infinite sea of ink-black waters.
[ he presses his tongue on his wrist again, this time aiding himself with his thumbs to coerce more blood to spill from his bite mark. when it feels like it’s about to run dry, he sinks his teeth in again— hard, letting a thick stream of red run down his skin before drinking that as well with slow, deliberate laps of his tongue, eyes closed, his breath shaking in ecstasy. ]
Ahh . . . Fedya . . .
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his shoulders shake, as the sting of the bites settles in properly; nikolai's teeth sink into flesh again, and fyodor hisses, feeling his body tense up — and then relax into the sensation, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, head falling back against the couch's backrest.
it hurts. it feels good. the distinction between these two is blurry, at best. )
You look happy. Does poison taste that good, Kolya? ( his lips curve in a small smile; of course, his blood isn't going to harm the other, but —
considering just touching him could, doesn't that still count as something lethal, at best? like gently caressing the tip of a blade, rather than a person. )
You're the only one to ever taste it and survive. So special.
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Mn. It's because I know this is special that the taste is elevated.
[ but, if he remembers correctly... ]
This is your prize, remember? And I recall I also said your neck...
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( judging by how much the other seems to be enjoying himself, anyway.
he glances at the red-stained gloves, then at his bleeding wrist, and tips his head up. )
My neck and my tongue, you said? ( come here and do it, then. )
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