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[personal profile] capt_kasya
[Warning: NC-17 m/m Isaev/Irinarhov interaction]

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: As they kissed, Andrei closed his eyes, but his hands had already found the buttons of Kassian's black field tunic, pushing and ripping them apart.

"Here?" he mumbled low and feverishly, against Kassian's lips.

It wasn't an ideal place, from a traditional standpoint, but in his present state Isaev was inclined to think any place was ideal, or would be, as soon as he got them stripped and into willful misbehavior.

Of course, if Kasya said he wanted to take it back to the barracks, or into an isolated storage room, or one of the numerous caves that lined the mountain range...

The floor here was cold and hard, unlined by rugs or anything approaching a finish. But the confinement offered certain intriguing possibilities.

"I won't tell him," he intoned fiercely, suddenly seizing the sniper's jaw in his hands. "You'll never see the North, Irinarhov. I promise you that."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Eyes dark, roiling like a midnight tide, Kassian nodded, tightly.

He did not try to pull away, but instead, his hands pushed under Isaev's coat and quickly worked at the fastenings of his pants.

"I believe you," he growled.

And he did, for what it was worth. He'd really rather be spared that fate, but now he wasted no time thinking about it, instead working to expose bare skin.

Just so he could touch it and feel Isaev's warmth, and know they were both vital and alive.

"And yes, here. Now."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: The greatcoats they wore were thick and binding- Irinarhov's was open, and now the field jacket underneath had been undone.

Andrei let his hands slip beneath to cup the sniper's flanks, running them down the backs of his legs as he lowered into a cossack crouch before him.

His hand found the soft winter welt of Kassian's telnyashka, pushing the stripes above his navel to expose just a little skin, warm and sun-burnished. Irinarhov's stomach trembled, exposed to the wintry air, and gradually, with the insistence of Andrei's fingers, so was his rigid prick.

He studied the sight for but a moment, long enough to see that it was hard and flushed and succulent- aroused flesh shone dark and satin like the rind of a pomegranate. He wasted no time swallowing Kasya's length, pleased by the act, the roughness, the immediacy, the hard and awkward place, hidden and forbidden.

He worked fiercely with lips and tongue and throat, thrusting forward aggressively, feeling the answering pulse and heat, and the slight give of the Captain's knees as he leaned back against the wall.

They didn't have to remove that much. It was an old soldiers' trick. It required as little effort as unzipping for a piss to frot your cock against a buddy's- behind a tree, in a bunker, in a lean-to, a cockpit, a barrack...and not much more to fuck him, if you both desired that...against a wall or over a desk, on the floor, hands and knees...it could all be done with a little fumbling and a lot of need.

No one was looking for them, and if they were, they would never look here.

It occurred to Andrei to be amused that he hadn't even removed his ushanka, but he was distracted enough at the cock in his mouth to only linger briefly on the realization.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian grunted with the effort of exertion, the strain of response and restraint. He hadn't guessed that their fight would have ended up with Isaev sucking him off, but Kassian wasn't complaining.

Isaev's hot, hard mouth enveloped him ruthlessly, demanding his attention, and he found himself giving it unabashedly.

He didn't brutalize Isaev's throat, but he didn't hold himself back overly, either, hips swaying rhythmically, back arched against the wall, one steadying hand planted on Isaev's shoulder, the other resting lightly at the back of Isaev's hard, corded neck.

Kassian let out another low, wordless grunt, his voice thick and blurred by desire, though it still managed to sound like Isaev's name.

Sex like this was quick and dirty, but also what they both needed right now. There would be time for more, later.

Kassian could tell that Isaev could finish him off like this, and soon, if he wanted, and that knowledge made him shudder again.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei's fingers went for his lapels, intending to push his greatcoat off, but he became distracted by Kassian's hands, urging him forward, bracing him solid, and they lingered, arrested.

"No hands," he bit out with a sneer, catching a breath and diving back in, sucking devotedly like a good comrade.

Isaev liked a man who liked to have his cock sucked, and he liked a man who enjoyed it with vigor.

"Fuck it, bratan," he whispered harshly. "Fuck my lips, fuck my face. Isn't it pretty enough for you?"

There was a grin behind his eyes, behind the ferocity of carnal want that illuminated his gaze. He knew Kassian could see it. His eyes were diaphanous where Irinarhov's were not.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian thrust his hips forward sharply in response.

It was almost a warning, a be-careful-what-you-wish-for, but Isaev took it in stride, accommodating his zeal with without hesitation. It made him wonder how much Isaev could take, how rough Kassian could be, but even as he thought it, the impulse toward violence disturbed him.

There was something about Isaev that always seemed to bring that out in him, whetted a feral instinct, a primal desire to taste Isaev's blood. He knew he didn't really want to hurt Isaev, but that impulse remained. He found it unsettling but at the same time, couldn't deny it.

"You're pretty, Isaev," he growled between panted breaths, taking his steadying hands off Isaev's shoulder and the back of his neck, fucking Isaev's mouth harder.

Kassian let his head recline against the wall, closing his eyes, allowing himself just to take his pleasure. He felt exposed like this, stripped bare for all of Groznyj Grad to see.

It was impure, hedonistic, dirty, but he found he liked it anyway.

"You're - " he started, but his words dissolved to grunts, and his cock pulsed with building, tremoring heat.

"I'm - I'm going to - " he rasped in warning, trying to catch enough breath to finish his sentence.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei shifted forward, his urgency matching Kassian's, liking the way the sniper's cock filled him, ravaging his mouth like a piston.

He had no idea where he'd picked up this predilection for ruthlessness. Because it wasn't always like this, not always so rough, not this easy, wanton brutality.

But Irinarhov gave it so well. Gave it and took it. And Isaev trusted him enough to indulge in his darker appetites when in his company. There was something indefinable behind the dark veiled gaze, always with him, a damage, a flaw, a fault. A stain that his life had left, an exquisite taste for suffering, and suffering abated by a dramatic culmination...

When he heard the harsh whisper of Kasya's death knell, his only response was to pull back long enough to meet the man's eyes, breathless, his voice rough and unrecognizable, ten years older than his face.

"Take the shot," he hissed.

Then he shoved the sniper's length as deep as he could, relaxing into the act like a cossack sword swallower, eyes smoldering obscenely.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Isaev's final provocation pushed him over the edge.

He came like the report of a rifle.

His body convulsed so hard his vision turned white and his throat constricted around a raw cry, and his knees threatened to buckle. He had to grab Isaev's shoulders just to keep from losing his balance.

This nest he'd found - secluded, cramped, precarious - was not really the place for any sort of vigorous activity, but that probably added to its appeal.

Kassian gasped, trying to recover his breath, his body quivering with aftershocks. He breathed out, softly cursing Isaev, and Isaev's mother, until he finally registered locked muscles starting to relax.

In spite of night air that cooled the sweat on his brow, he felt hot and stifled under too many layers of clothing. He could imagine that Isaev felt the same.

Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, half-lidded in the languid wake of orgasm.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei swallowed, almost demurely, releasing Irinarhov's flesh reluctantly to the cool air.

"That was perfect," he murmured.

He raised slowly to his feet, facing Kassian artlessly, making no move toward him.

"You should pull up your pants, comrade. Or I might..."

He let his gaze fall, briefly, before returning it with a slight shrug.

"I might just act out."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian drew in a sharp breath.

Isaev's eyes had taken on that predator's sheen, and the gap between their ages felt narrow. Kassian wanted to tempt the beast that lurked within Isaev's broad chest, wanted to be consumed by by savage lust.

"Do it," he rasped, voice raw and goading.

Deliberately, he pushed his pants lower, exposing hips and naked thighs and his softening prick still flushed dark from Isaev's attentions.

"Take me. Take me how you want me."

He turned to face the wall, planting his hands in front of him like a man under arrest, then glanced over his shoulder. "Don't hold back, Isaev. Do it."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: "Fuck, how you do ask for it," cursed Isaev, shoving his own jodhpurs down and pushing his tel'nik up, feeling the soft blond hairs rise and brush against his hand on the bisecting line of his stomach.

His cock hit his solar plexus like the point of a compass, and he pushed it down with a forceful hand, guiding it perfunctorily to Kassian's entrance, crouching slightly to accommodate his height.

"You wouldn't ask for something you couldn't handle, now would you?" he cooed, breathing against the sniper's sweat-damp neck.

He thrust upward, broke the door down without knocking. He heard Irinarhov's grunt, guttural and succinct, as Isaev's cock found its deep harbor inside him.

Andrei saw the world through a veil of white-hot lust as he leaned forward, shoving Kassian up against the wall, broad hands manacled around his dark, sullen lover's stoic wrists, pinning them flat against the sheet metal.

"Like they do it in the MVD," he whispered, in the Captain's ear. "Is that why you want it hard? You want me to punish you?"

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Isaev's voice made him shiver.

The pain spiked sharp and Kassian tensed in spite of knowing not to, bearing down tight around Isaev's cock. It probably made it better for Isaev, though for him it was sustained agony.

But Isaev had been right: he wouldn't ask for something he couldn't handle. Forcefully, Kassian expelled the breath he held until his muscles loosened just enough for him to push back on Isaev's cock, driving him deeper.

With a sharp, violent motion, he pushed back again, the ridge of taut muscle around Isaev convulsing ruthlessly, inciting Isaev's rhythm.

Kassian didn't know if there was any truth to Isaev's accusations, if he wanted to be punished. Kassian certainly found it agreeable, if that was the case, but his and Isaev's relationship was complex.

He'd had rough sex before - there had been times when he and Vitya had fucked angry, and Kassian had been left bruised and sore, though the undercurrent was never like this.

"You think you can do it?" he growled, mockingly. "You think you can handle punishing me?"

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: "I think I'm the only one who can," whispered Isaev, darkly, as he paused, and slowly, gently kissed the sniper's cold, feverish temple.

Then he drew back and slammed in hard, falling into a reliably violent rhythm, wrapping one hand around the sniper's throat and caressing it roughly as he held him in check.

"I'll make you pay for your father's sins, Kasya," he murmured, brokenly, "Then...who will make me pay for mine's?"

He knew it would be quick, brutal capitulation when he came.

He was conscious that Kasya had only just come, and that this act might arouse him again physically, but then again it might not. But he knew it would arouse his mind, if nothing else.

Andrei knew Kassian's mind.

He knew his own.

They thought along the same dark, carnal lines.

That was why he loved...

This. God, it was good with him. Even sick, like this. Even wrong and twisted and soul-shearing.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: The rhythm of Isaev's thrusts helped Kassian adjust to the transition from pain to pleasure.

They moved together, unrestrained, but yet still matched in their mutual hunger. Kassian was still too tense, and Isaev was still too rough, and their clothes chafed against sweat-dampened skin, but it was what they both needed.

"I told you once," Kassian said between panted breaths, thrusting backward and bearing down hard, "I came here to watch out for you."

No wonder Isaev had accused him of knowing who he was that first day in the showers. Now, they were so inexorably intertwined that Kassian could scarcely comprehend it.

And here he'd nearly sworn he'd never get involved with anyone again, but had stopped short of actually making it an oath.

Good thing, that.

He started to say something else, but Isaev thrust forward with particular violence that stroke, and Kassian let out a harsh gasp instead.

Words had little to do with it, anyway.

He felt hot and flushed again, not quite hard but tingling, which was amazing in spite of the pain and penetration and the fact he'd just come. Being forty-three shouldn't have done him any favors either, but then again, Isaev had that effect on him.

Kassian caught his breath as Isaev thrust hard again. He didn't know how something could be so emotionally charged and violent, and yet so good. He felt more alive than he had been in years.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei heard the words, felt them, viscerally like a shot to the heart.

God damn Kassian Irinarhov and his disarming way of speaking. Speaking without guile, like a fucking missile. Melting his mind at the edges, making him soft. Making his fists lower and uncurl.

He slowed his thrusts briefly, letting his brow rest against the sniper's dark, tousled hair.

"Ah Kasya," he murmured, conflicted. "Kasya."

He inhaled, moving his hips in a shallow circle, taking in the sweet, earthy scent of the Captain's scalp, stroking his heaving chest with spread, caressing fingers.

Then he felt the desperation of sudden emotion, unnamed and terrible, like a devastating wave threatening to engulf his island.

Wonderful.

A sudden flash of Ilarion, with him in the locker room after the exhibition fight with André Tourangeau. Isaev was sitting on a bench, mechanically unwrapping his hands, staring hard into nothing.

"Andrei."

Lasha had been inexorable, like a man carved from granite. Demanding Andrei look at him. Crouching, so they were at eye level, taking Andrei's jaw in his gloved hand. His eyes were the color of freezing rain.

"I protect you."

Kissing the corner of his mouth, roughly, chastely.

Not 'I will'. Not 'I can'.

Andrei shuddered and fell back into the ruthless motions of before, even harder now, feeling the struggle and the ecstasy of the fight- and like that day all those years before, one of them would die first.

He clenched his fingers, hard, knowing he was leaving star-black marks on Kassian's olive skin, marks he would later regret but secretly be pleased by..

His lips parted, as he pressed them to Kassian's ear, holding him close like a lover, thrusting into him like an opponent. Like he'd pummeled Tourangeau, without mercy, without thinking of anything but the fight.

He'd liked Tourangeau.

He whispered the words, breathed them into space, for them alone.

"And who's going to protect you from me?"

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: A thrill raced through Kassian, an emotional charge he didn't fully understand. It was a visceral reaction that came right from the gut, as instinctive as fight-or-flight. But he didn't want to do battle with Isaev, and he didn't want to leave him.

It was something else, instead.

Belonging, perhaps, or more accurately, recognition.

If Kassian examined his life critically, if he studied it like the tale of a hero caught in some ancient poem, he was the one with little to live for. No family to speak of, friends who were long-gone, an existence on the periphery, a life defined by little more than service. A lifer who stayed in the military because he had nothing else.

In contrast, Isaev had a family, a promising career if he wanted it, a good life waiting for him when he decided to leave. Wealth and privilege, Kassian imagined, and all the power of the MVD. That was the legacy Isaev had never seemed to want to speak of, the questions he'd avoided.

Princes on the backs of wolves, indeed.

But something had drawn them together nonetheless. Something had made them the same.

Kassian tilted his head toward the hot breath that warmed his ear, but he couldn't turn back far enough to catch Isaev's lips, even though the need burned strong right then.

It would have to wait.

Their rhythm stole his breath with every stroke, but Kassian swallowed and gathered enough air to speak.

"I trust you," he whispered, simply.

Maybe, Kassian thought, after a few moments, maybe he'd been wrong, and Isaev was a lifer too.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei made a rough noise in response, and reached around Kassian's hip, seizing his prick, sleeving it in his fingers.

He started jerking him off, hard. Relentless.

Irinarhov's cock was probably still tender and overly sensitive, but Andrei didn't care. If the sniper could outlast the discomfort, blur the line between acute pleasure and vague pain, he would come again.

Andrei had been an excellent student in that regard.

"Hurt for me," he breathed, harshly.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian drew in a sharp breath, gritting his teeth as Isaev grabbed him. His shoulders tensed, spine straightening. Instinctively, he bucked, fighting it, but that only made the pain sharpen.

Isaev's hand moved on his cock with the swift, methodical motions of a gunman chambering round after round.

Kassian hadn't been fully hard yet, but Isaev worked him remorselessly, whispering cruel words that sent shivers through him.

His blood fired and he shuddered, helplessly aroused.

"Fuck, Isaev," he ground out.

The sensations flirted with the limits of his tolerance but he thrusted back, violently. For every stroke Isaev took, Kassian matched him, and slowly, hot, spiking pleasure overrode pain.

It was wrong to like this, he knew. It was wrong to love Isaev for being the only one who trusted Kassian enough to hurt him this much. He could barely wrap his mind around it, but he wanted it anyway. It satisified a hunger Kassian hadn't known he'd had.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Irinarhov was swearing at him.

Angry. Or not. He didn't know.

But he did like the sound of those sharp and vengeful curses, gutteral and menacing, issued from Kassian's hard, stalwart mouth, and he liked the clutch of the tense and breaking body he caged against the wall.

Andrei had pinned him, deep in, and now he shifted tactics, catching his breath, one forearm braced against the wall above their heads, as if he were casually loitering here, merely extremely close to another man with an unbound belt. The other arm locked around Kassian's hard waist.

It was odd to think that his cock was shoved that high inside the Captain; that had they not been separated by a wall of hard muscle and flesh, he would be grazing his own arm.

Now, only his hips moved, pistoning, punishing. He lay into Kassian, pressing him between the wall of his chest and the wall of the structure, so that his cheek and chest were flat against the cold metal, and then held him in place, rigid with muscle.

Andrei could move. As a light-heavyweight, he was quick and lithe for his size, born of a training that emphasized shoulder-driven, badly damaging punches as well as agility. He was no featherlight fighter, and no earthbound heavyweight, either.

He concentrated all his kinetic being into short, sharp upward thrusts of his cock, jacknifing his hips at close range. Never fully withdrawing from his lover, his foil, his darker half. Only battering him, until he surrendered. Until he raised the white flag and conceded the fight to him-

As any man should do, when he knew he was beat.

Why the hell do you keep resisting when you know I've got this one?

As any fucking man should do, in the face of a merciless barrage.

No. Don't get up, Andre. Don't get up. No. Not again. I'll have to hurt you, and I don't want to hurt you any more.

As any fucking sane man would do, who was cut like that, and not able to see...

Don't grin weakly at me. Don't give me that comme ci, comme ça bullshit smile. There's blood in your eyes. You can't rally. You can't. Don't you see what happens next?

Isaev let out a low, primal cry and redoubled his vigor, crushing the sniper in his hard embrace, trying to overcome the rush of emotion that threatened to make him break down into love without punishment.

But even as he brutalized them both in this act, his deep feelings for the sniper never wavered, and he knew that Kassian could break and still win, could surrender and still own him.
Tourangeau hadn't surrendered.

And even when he was beaten and bloodied, he'd looked at Isaev with that lopsided grin, and utter trust; right up until the end, he'd truly believed everything was going to be all right.

Andrei's arms shook, his lips shuddered. His cock throbbed with pleasure, his mind seethed with pain.

Kassian's body never flinched at the treatment it received. He was hard in Andrei's hand now, and the wanton, damning object made a lump rise in his throat.

He fucked him harder. Jerked him harder.

His lips riffled Kasya's dark hair, sought the his flushed and waiting ear.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, brokenly. "I'm sorry, so sorry. So sorry."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian made a noise in the back of his throat, half a groan and half a soothing murmur.

He could hear the pain that drove Isaev's piston-like thrusts and spurred his ruthless hand. He could feel Isaev's regret brush against his ear. And as much as he wanted the bastard to fucking come already, he also found himself reacting instinctively, protectively, to the idea of Isaev's torment.

"Nye astanavliveysa," he murmured.

Kassian's breath came hard, too quick and shallow to say much more, now. Sweat slicked his body and turned his uniform damp and clammy.

Isaev still pumped him ruthlessly. He wondered which one of them would come first. If Isaev hadn't been crushing him against the wall, Kassian didn't think he could stand.

It almost felt like too much to bear, both the brutal physicality and the sharp, painful edge of emotion, but Kassian knew that if the weight of the world couldn't break him, neither could Isaev.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: "You're toying with me, khokhol," snarled Isaev, suddenly, realizing that Kassian's set mouth and squared shoulders were not just stoic endurance or static passivity, but active aggression. "You fucking Vlasovite."

Irinarhov was denying him his capitulation. He was willfully resisting his body's instincts, and while Andrei would normally have found this impressive, even arousing, on this particular day he was infuriated.

His fist tightened across Irianarhov's flat, utilitarian stomach.

He felt like he was drunk, and dangerously topheavy, veering between emotional sentimentality and violent anger.

He felt like weeping.

Andrei thought of Ilarion, stroking his hair.

Stroking his hair back, and gazing at him with a leveled gaze of granite, clenching his jaw as Andrei fucked him ruthlessly up against the lockers. Taking it, unflinching. Lasha was game. Lasha could dish it out and never feel a hypocrite, for he could take any amount of punishment with an unshaken smile.

His brother's lips whispering softly, roughly.

"Thresh the chaff from the wheat. Burn it out, Andrashka. Burn it clean."

Isaev shook his head, trying to dissolve the visceral memory.

A choked cry escaped his lips as primal sensation attacked him with teeth like tines. A shudder wracked his body.

He didn't know if he could take much more.

"...What do you want from me?" he whispered, finally, letting his brow rest on Irinarhov's shoulder, breathing out in a soul-crushing sigh.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian shuddered, groaning, arching under the blistering cage of Isaev's body.

He reached down and gripped the fist that curled hard around his stomach. His fingers dug into Isaev's hand, fiercely. He didn't know how Isaev actually expected him to answer coherently at a time like this.

He didn't know if Isaev was coherent himself. Or if he really wanted an answer right now.

Nothing. Everything.

Kassian didn't trust himself to answer, not when he didn't understand what drove Isaev to pin him up against the wall like he'd been furious with him.

And it had been fairly drilled out of his mind already, what they'd even been arguing about.

Their fathers, he remembered, after a moment.

"Isaev - " he started, but gritted his teeth. His grip on Isaev's hand tightened, even as his body trembled, from the strain, from the emotion. From the pulse and throb of pleasure. "I need you," he finished, finally.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei shuddered, and his mind snapped into form at the words.

He realized that he'd gone too far, that he'd fought the tetrarchy of his conflicted impulses until he was wrung out, and had no idea what or how to feel.

Kassian scrambled him, as adeptly as a morse jammer, as easily as a trigger, pulled.

As easily as he'd felled his last opponent.

He faltered, arms releasing, pushing back from the wall and out of their indecent embrace.

Pulling out of Irinarhov with an unbearable need unmet, but unable to continue the act.

Breath heaving, eyes wide as he fell back against the opposite wall. The space allowed no distance, but he made it, created it purely from will.

He waited for Kassian to turn. To come down on him, hard, the way he should. The way he deserved.

Andrei's cock was loaded, unstable as nitroglycerin, rigid and rose-blushed.

He shoved it into his jodhpurs, fastening them hastily, glaring at Kasya.

"Why did you let me do that?" he demanded in a low, guttural tone.

His hair fell into his face, damp and salted strands brushing across his lips.

"You need me like a hole in the head," he breathed, harshly. "I make a masochist of you. And you make me no better than him."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Isaev's departure had hurt more than his entrance. Kassian shuddered. But Isaev's words hurt more than either. He turned, stiffly, face tightening as he felt a lingering ripple of pain.

He closed the distance between them and shoved Isaev's hands aside. He fought to undo the fastenings of Isaev's pants again, but Isaev resisted.

Kassian stopped, and glared up at Isaev's haunted, wounded eyes.

"That's not for you to decide," he growled, unrelenting. "We both needed that. We both need it." He emphasized the present tense. "This has nothing to do with masochism. This has nothing to do with him. Finish what you started, Isaev. This is about need."

His own cock was just as hard as Isaev's, throbbing and aching alternately.

He braced himself, half expecting Isaev to try to shove him aside. If it came down to a hand-to-hand fight, Kassian knew who would win. Isaev could pitch him off the tower if he wanted to, even.

He went for Isaev's pants again. "Finish it, or I will."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei raised his gaze, trying to soften the steel he felt in his eyes.

"I won't hurt you any more," he said slowly. The words felt thick like black honey. "...I refuse."

Ne refusez pas Andrey. Encor, tout suite! Tu imbecile- est-ce que tu as faim? Combien? Ou est-ce que tu trop beau pour ton mains brutalement?

He'd let himself be taunted, once. Against his better judgment, against his nagging instinct.

If he'd only laid the gloves down. If he'd only understood what was at stake.

But he hadn't known his own strength- hadn't even considered what Spetsnaz had wrought. It was his first fight since the inception of his training as an Ocelot. He hadn't had time to do exhibitions, until this one.

He met the sniper's forged-iron gaze.

"Je refuse," he drawled, with bitter, bloodless humor. "Comment-tu aims cette, comrade?"

If Irinarhov wanted it so bad, he could just come and take it himself.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian's scowl darkened, and he searched Isaev's expression, eyes flicking back and forth rapidly. He found no willful taunting, no air of sick, perverted satisfaction. Only a steady, acrid resolve. No, this wasn't a game to Isaev.

Far from it.

He kept looking, staring hard into Isaev's eyes, almost as if some part of him expected to see something different with the passage of time.

But no. Isaev did not waver. Finally Kassian shook his head.

"I don't speak French," he said.

He looked down for a moment, considering, but it was only a moment. He let out a breath, and when he looked back up, it was without anger.

"All right," he said, quietly. "Then we'll do this my way."

Kassian pressed closer, and looked up to meet Isaev's gaze, then slowly raised both hands and laid them against either side of Isaev's face. Gently.

"Close your eyes," he whispered, then pressed upward to brush his lips against Isaev's, to run his tongue over his mouth. To kiss him with infinite slowness. Infinite care. To linger over the lightest sensation.

He'd done this once before with such purposeful intent. It had been in the lockers, the second time they'd kissed. And Isaev had been stunned silent then. Shocked, as if he'd never expected that.

Maybe as if no one had ever kissed him that way before.

They'd just begun their association, then. Kassian hadn't even known him well enough to kiss him properly, and he'd done it more to prove a point than to truly express any sort of deep-seated love.

Now, he knew how to do it right.

He kissed Isaev like he meant it. Like he meant everything.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei's eyes slowly opened, as Kasya's lips broke with his own, gently, as masterfully as a violinist lifts his bow from the strings.

A silence fell, and he watched the blue shadows play over the sniper's hawk-hewn features, which had taken on a surreal and iconic gentleness that could have rivaled the Madonna.

The solemn, all-loving priest again. The man who had held his formidable brawn in inexorable arms, held him as tenderly as if he were a woman, with a brazen lack of fear about such soft expressions between men.
Andrei paused, letting his breath return to the cage of his chest of its own volition, because whenever he tried to recapture it, it seemed to elude him.

He would have reached for the Captain's face, but he didn't trust these hands at the moment. An irrational fear, but it kept him bound nonetheless.

"Ti takaya nezhnayu," he said softly, shaking his head to show how little he understood. "Ti takaya...sentimental'no."

Andrei shuddered, rubbing his eyes and brow with his palm, clumsy in his momentary exhaustion.

"...I don't understand you. How can you look at me like that? Like a..."

He trailed off, his words breaking like a bough.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: "Like a what?" Kassian asked, stroking Isaev's face. "Like a lover? That's what we are, aren't we?"

He raised his hand to join Isaev's, to stroke his brow, and rub his thumb, applying gentle pressure to Isaev's temple.

"I woke up next to you every morning for two weeks. I got used to that, Dasha. I got used to you being there when I slept. I want to keep doing that."

He didn't say for how long. He didn't have to. It was enough that Kassian knew, and unnecessary to bring up right now.

Kassian leaned up to press another kiss to the side of Isaev's face, tenderly.

"Let me take care of you," he murmured, running one hand down Isaev's neck to his chest, then down his belly to rest just above the still-swollen cock.

His touch was possessive, but not demanding. He waited for permission.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei's lips parted, unwitting, as he gazed at Irinarhov in silence.

"Lover," he said haltingly, as if speaking the word for the first time. "I..."

He pulled his eyes away, frowning.

"What makes us lovers, and not simply hungry men, comrade?"

He didn't resist when Kassian's hand came to rest above his prick. The Ukrainian- god, he'd called him a slur, realized Andrei, chagrined, but he nodded slightly, after a moment.

"Finish me," he said, softly, closing his eyes.

"...you'll be the death of me anyway."

He wasn't sure what context he favored.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: "Shhh," Kassian said, properly this time. When he'd tried to shush Isaev before, he'd barely been able to speak, and it had some out as more of an inarticulate noise, practically a grunt.

He undid Isaev's hastily-fastened pants, and slid them down just far enough to get at his well-abused cock. It had been brutal between them, and though it had probably hurt Kassian more than it hurt Isaev, the margin probably wasn't too wide.

Kassian closed his hand around Isaev's prick, gently rubbing the tip with his thumb, raising pleasure down his length to get him adjusted to stimulation again. Even though Isaev's cock felt as iron-hard in his hand as it had when Isaev thrust into him, he knew lack of touch could have turned the already tender flesh sensitive.

He thought about what Isaev asked. It was here where words failed him. He wanted to say something profound about love, to speak poetic lyrics.

But he only knew by instinct what others could address with stirring words. He knew it because he'd felt it before, but that explanation didn't really help, either.

"We're lovers because..."

Kassian trailed off. The obvious was redundant. He began to stroke down the length of Isaev's cock, still gently, but settling into a rhythm.

"Emotion, I guess. Depth of feeling."

He wanted to say commitment, but didn't.

"Hungry comrades only care about getting off, do they not? Lovers care about other things. Much more."

"Shhh," he said again, working Isaev. "Just relax.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: "Then what does it mean to be friends with the bastard you lie down with?" Andrei whispered, stubbornly interrogating the subtext, even as his eyes slipped to half mast, and his length began to hum and throb with exquisitely delicate pleasure, beneath the oddly artful fingers of his comrade's hand. "Because I've taken many a good friend into my bed."

He shrugged, almost drowsy as his mind diverged and began the pursuit of pleasure.

"I care for my friends. I'm good to them in combat as well as under cover of night. It isn't merely a physical compulsion."

Kassian's grip tightened a little, coincident with the mention of intimate friends.

Andrei's lips parted, issuing a moan at the change in pressure.

"I think you're teasing me," he breathed, managing a smile. "Not about this. About that, comrade. About love."

He let his hands hesitantly creep lower, one rubbing the inside of his own thigh slowly, distractedly.

"My brother once told me that love is a harmless fiction." He paused, as his voice dropped wistfully. "That only family can love wholly, because of common blood. Romantic love is an invention of the poets."

He trailed off, letting Irinarhov's experienced hands mold him into orgiastic clay.

"But you've become a brother to the Ocelots. And to me. And I want you to know...I have love for you."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian's heart skipped, and fluttered.

He glanced down, even though Isaev's was lowered, but he still managed to keep stroking with a steady, building rhythm.

"I know," he said, softly, like a kiss.

And he did know that, but hearing it actually issue from Isaev's lips still did something to him. Made his heart thrill. He could barely keep his lips from curving upwards, even given the caveats on Isaev's statement.

Isaev was just expressing himself the way he knew how. Kassian could only shake his head, though, at Lasha. He imagined Isaev's brother told him a lot of things.

"Is he always right?" he murmured, almost too softly for Isaev to hear.

On the other, he didn't know. Intimate comrades were not something Kassian had really ever had. He supposed that made him more of a proponent for all-or-nothing, but even so, he didn't know how to address that. Was it the same thing? Did he say things like this to Imanov?

No. Kassian wasn't going to think about it. He and Isaev were here now, and not anyone else.

He lengthened his strokes, driving Isaev's pleasure harder, coaxing him to focus more on the sensations. As he moved his hand, Kassian leaned up to kiss Isaev's neck.

Maybe it was the desire to leave an ego signature of his own, but he kissed until he'd sucked a tiny, precise bruise into Isaev's skin, in the hollow of his throat.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei breathed softly against Kassian's ear, his respiration hitching just a little as the intensity mounted.

"Kasya," he whispered. "Maybe I have a little more than love for you."

He said it so softly as to be lost on the very air in the strange little hangar.

It reminded him of a organ loft, somehow, without the organ.

Isaev paused.

"Ilarion doesn't have to be right," he said, simply. "The state is always right."

He shivered, wrapping his arms around Kassian's neck and pulling him close for a kiss. It was passionate, but languid.

"You're going to make me come, comrade. All over your nice red gloves," he hissed softly. "Perhaps you should take them off."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian's lips tipped upward, briefly, but he paused long enough to bite the tip of his glove and strip it off, then pull off the other.

He tucked the gloves into his back pocket, and settled his hand around Isaev's cock once more. There. That was better. Hard flesh and soft skin, the nuance of texture under his fingertips, the brush of heat in his palm.

Kassian wondered how it could be like this - rough one moment, tender the next, declarations of hostility, revelations of love, but always good, always vital, no matter what.

He worked at lengthening his strokes, gauging Isaev's need. Isaev was young and hot-blooded, and always came hard, and unabashedly. He didn't hold back.

Kassian liked that about Isaev, but then again, he liked a lot of things about Isaev. He leaned forward to kiss Isaev again, even as his hand tightened, coaxing, drawing out Isaev's response.

"Dasha," he breathed against Isaev's lips as they traded kisses, breaking apart to breathe, rejoining. "I have a little more than love for you too."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei wasn't sure why, out of all the very arousing things Kassian was doing to him with the most blatant and soldierly competence, that sentence should have been the one thing to unceremoniously plunge him into orgasm.

It caught him utterly by surprise and he cursed, seizing Kassian's shoulders violently, bracing his chest into the sniper's firm body, feeling himself give over to nature and lust.

He cursed, the surprise evident in his tone, and in his slightly wide eyes, watching himself retract and pulse, as soft, heated liquid issued over Kassian's pumping hand.

A last sound, a groan, rough and senseless, as his head flung back, then fell forward, his hair settling damply around his eyes.

Silence.

Then he looked up with a slightly rueful grin.

"Fuck, Kasya...My khuj hurts like hell."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: A single short laugh in the form of a puff of air escaped his lips, and Kassian had to turn his head, looking away so he could compose his expression. If he didn't stop looking at Isaev right then, he didn't think he could keep from doing it again.

He shook his head, wryly. "Sorry," he said, his voice rough with affection. "If it helps, so does my ass."

Kassian wiped his hand on his jodhpurs. He could tell he would be all right, but still, he'd probably move a little stiffly the next day.

"We can be the walking wounded tomorrow," he offered.

He still hadn't come. He didn't know if he was going to now, except he was past the point of not having to. "Finish me off, and then we can take a hot shower and go to bed."

Nothing sounded better right now, actually. Kassian leaned up for another slow kiss.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei smiled gradually.

"Why you fucking demon." He shook his head. "I knew you were holding out on me."

He ran his fingers through the fluid around shaft of his cock, still warm, still viscous. Oddly fascinating.

His eyes slatted briefly.

"Tell you what," he said in a low voice. "How about you get yours inside me."

He reached for Kassian's still-hard cock, coating it in his own fluid.

"Turnabout is fair play...or is that too kinky?"

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: "Nothing's too kinky," he said, and meant it.

At least as far as his limited imagination in that arena went, though he guessed Isaev probably knew some things that might shock him.

Then again, maybe not.

"I wasn't trying to hold out on you," he said, voice lazy, almost indulgent. He said it without shame; it was simply a fact. "I'm not twenty anymore, you know."

His prick tingled where Isaev stroked it, firming under his touch, and he reached out to place a hand on Isaev's hip. "Might take me a while, but I'll go easy."

He really didn't think he had the endurance for much else. Kassian regretted they weren't elsewhere, now, somewhere just as private, but more comfortable, where they could take off their clothes and be closer. He wanted to kiss across Isaev's naked back, he wanted to let his tongue trace over his shoulder blades, but this wasn't really the place.

Gently, he nudged Isaev to turn toward the wall.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei's lip curled as he shoved his jodhpurs down in a single, rough motion.

"You don't have to be nice, Kassian Irinarhov. We always hurt the ones we love, isn't that what they say?"

He struck a pose against the wall, gripping an anchored pipe at mid-height, fingers curling and locking around the metal.

He was standing further from the wall than Irinarhov had, to accommodate his height for the sniper's benefit, and his back created a semi-sloped plane instead of an upright shadow.

"I've had some pretty serious bouts of trading up, comrade," he murmured. "Trust me...I know we're not shadowboxing. And you don't have to pull any punches with me."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: "I know," Kassian said.

If anything, Isaev's broad, muscular frame was more resilient than Kassian's, and Isaev hadn't pulled any punches with him. But the sheer fact of it was that Kassian didn't think he could summon up the strength or the stamina to pin Isaev to the wall and fuck him hard enough to tear cries from his throat.

Another time, maybe, when he wasn't already well-used himself.

Just for Isaev, though, Kassian held him a little more firmly than he would have otherwise, and pressed his fingers into Isaev's skin. He leaned up to kiss the back of Isaev's neck before positioning himself behind him, pressing his slickened cock against Isaev's opening instead of easing him with a finger first.

"I won't," he whispered into Isaev's ear, then pushed inside.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei exhaled sharply and made an appreciative noise.

He was ready for it, psychologically, and the small amount of protest his body leveled was brief and easily vanquished as Irinarhov's obstinate thickness filled him, displacing flesh and creating pleasure.

"Always good at finding a nest, aren't you," drawled Andrei, moving his hips slightly to feel the sniper inside him.

Despite the fact that he had just come, Andrei was still hungry for indecency. Something about the slightly weathered lines around Irinarhov's eyes made him want to misbehave. He knew what it was like to feel the man's expert hands all over him.

His age was attractive, Andrei realized, amused, his reticence alluring.

Like a priest, he thought, for not the first time. A corruptible man. But only to a point. There were parts of Kasya you could not efface or change.

He'd been intent on drawing Irinarhov's attention away from the ether, and onto him.

It hadn't taken anywhere near as long as he anticipated, and neither had his own enamored state declined.

Which left them...well, desperately mauling each other in forgotten places, like this one.

"No one feels as good as you, Irinarhov," Andrei murmured. "Tell me why that is."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian's stomach dipped, and he brought his arm around Isaev's side and up, to press his bare hand against the rumpled uniform that covered Isaev's broad chest. Holding him tight. Holding him close.

In spite of Isaev's request, and his own intent, Kassian found he couldn't be rough. He wasn't really in the mood, and his own cock had been chafed well enough by Isaev's hand earlier to want to go easy now.

He laid his head against Isaev's back and thrust slowly, deeply.

He pondered Isaev's question. There were a lot of things he could say, he supposed, about love, about connection, about what they'd come to mean to each other. But Kassian thought he couldn't really tell another man about what was in his own heart.

"I guess that's a question only you can answer," he murmured. "I know why I like the way you touch me."

To Kassian, it was simple. He'd fallen fast, and he'd fallen hard. He'd fallen when it outwardly had looked like a really bad idea. Kassian should have known better - in fact, he had known better, but he'd done it anyway.

His lips curved upward, and he let them, unguarded, because Isaev couldn't see him.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei relaxed into the sniper's embrace, letting his head tip back and rest over Kassian's shoulder, closing his eyes.

He trusted the sniper, more than he'd ever trusted anyone apart from his brother. In fact, perhaps if he was truthful, Irinarhov was the only other man he utterly trusted the way he trusted Lasha.

The slow, steady penetration lulled him, made him liquid like honey. There was something rather iniquitous about the fact that they still wore their uniforms. He liked the feeling of being fucked at ease, but still confined by the military trappings that purported such decorum.

Kasya had the scent of an older man, Andrei thought, breathing him in. Darker, richer than his own. His stubble was harsher, his features more definite. And he was sagacious, too, beneath his taciturn approach to the world. He'd seen all manner of things, and come to his own understanding.

"Kasya," he murmured, shivering. "Keep doing that, but...put your gun to my head."

They would see, then, who trusted who.

September 2009

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