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

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian eyed Isaev for a moment but said nothing. Instead, he got up, wincing, stretching tentatively to test the boundaries of his pain.

He would be all right, he could tell, nothing rest and taking it easy wouldn't cure. Kassian pulled on his gloves and fixed his coat, then moved over to the trap door so he could open it.

Climbing down slowly, he took one rung at a time, pausing between each step.

In a way, it seemed unreal, what had happened between them up in his tower. Violent, ugly sex, confessions about the past, accusations, and anger. And even now, there seemed to be a distance between them, in spite everything that had happened. Maybe because of everything that happened.

Things had changed. Kassian almost felt disabused of his romanticism. Those two weeks they'd spent fucking languorously every night had somehow been before they'd really known each other. And now...

...and now, it wasn't as simple.

But that didn't change the fact he was tired, wrung-out, and just wanted a shower and then a bed with Isaev in it. They could figure out the rest later.

He waited until Isaev joined him on the ground, then exited the storeroom.

Kassian glanced at Isaev as they walked. His face still had that sculpted, distant cast, like a statue of some indifferent young god. Like the stoic faces of the MVD.

He frowned.

"Do you want to fuck a little more?" Kassian asked, a twinge of curiosity in his tone, wondering at Isaev's stamina.

It had been a long time since Kassian was twenty-three.

[profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei shrugged, glancing up at the snowy peaks that limed the sky around the Grad.

"For a moment I thought we might never fuck again," he said, with forced insouciance. "I suppose the future is wide open."

He sighed.

"Look...we don't have to do this. You're a nice man, Kassian Irinarhov. You don't have to hold to social contracts we made before you knew me for what I am."

He raised his jaw, setting it.

"I don't understand why I dreaded telling you. A fucking MVD brat, concerned about alienating the son of a traitor to the Soviet Union."

He snorted.

"That's irony."

He was bitter, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe because the truth was that the knowledge changed nothing.

And it should have.

God damn him, it should have.

"You hurt me," he said, "but I could take as much again."

His eyes narrowed.

"And enjoy it."

[personal profile] capt_kasya: And just like that, he was angry again.

Kassian's jaw tightened, but he tried to shake it off. If he had any doubts that he loved Isaev, this would have been the proof - he felt so strongly because it mattered.

"All right," he said, evenly, keeping his gaze directed ahead. "I don't know what you're telling me, Isaev. You want me to hurt you? You don't want me to hurt you? You want me to be angry at you? You want me to hate you?"

He paused, and drew in a sharp breath. "You don't want to be with me anymore?"

It was the thing he dreaded most right then, but he'd forced himself to say it aloud, to speak the name of the demon that haunted him.

Kassian fell silent. He watched Isaev a moment out of the corner of his eye, in his peripheral vision.

"Because I want to be with you," he said after a moment, more quietly. "It doesn't matter to me, who your father is. It doesn't make me hate you. My father died a long time ago. I can't say I made my peace with it, but...even back then, I hated him. But this isn't about anyone else. At least, not for me."

He turned his head, then, to try to catch Isaev's gaze. "This is about you and me. I want you. I want to get to know you better. I - "

Kassian started to go on, but then fell silent, though he didn't drop his gaze.

[profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei's expression burned whitely, like birch ash and embers.

"I didn't say that," he said quietly. "If it made a difference to my cock or my heart, Katzian, I wouldn't be sleeping in your bed tonight."

He clenched his fist obscurely.

"But I don't want your fucking honor."

He turned abruptly and snaked out his arm, as if taking a punch, but instead snatched at Irinarhov's greatcoat and seized him by the lapel, dragging him upward.

"Your loyalty," he hissed. "Once given, it's inalienable- you'd love me out of duty, because you swore you did once. Even if the sight of me made you sick."

He paused, breathing soft spikes into the cold air.

"Knowing you have my back," he said softly, "is a very great feeling, comrade. But don't do me any favors as a good priest, loving the sinner despite."

Andrei could feel his features draw taut, and he knew it was Ilarion's expression he wore now, quietly demanding and utterly unrepentant.

"...are you understanding me, comrade?"

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian had raised a hand when Isaev grabbed him, and now it lay across Isaev's heart, palm flat, gloved fingers spread as if to steady himself, or push Isaev away.

He almost had the impulse to do the latter, to give him an angry shove back. To yell in Isaev's face, to tell him his arrogance was insulting.

But he didn't.

Instead, his fingers curled into Isaev's greatcoat, and pulled.

He dragged Isaev down even as Isaev pulled him up, drew them together until their faces were close.

Kassian's met Isaev's icy gaze with a molten stare, the muscles in his cheek tightening.

"You don't make me sick," he hissed with such vehemence that to an outsider, it might sound contradictory.

But then he closed their distance and caught Isaev's mouth in a hard kiss, forceful and demanding. Hungry.

He meant to be punishing. He meant to hurt, to give Isaev a taste of what he wanted. But even as he kissed him that way, he found himself slowing, kissing Isaev more deeply and thoroughly.

Kassian let go of Isaev's greatcoat and brought his hands up to bury them under Isaev's ushanka, fingers twisted in his hair.

He hadn't even bothered to check if anyone was around, and even now, he didn't pull himself away to do so.

His kiss slowed further, and turned more gentle right before he bit into Isaev's lip, hard, enough to draw blood, just as he'd done on that first day at the firing range.

Kassian broke it off then, and pulled back slightly.

He held Isaev's gaze, calm and certain. "I love you for who you are," he said, quietly, before leaning up to place a kiss on Isaev's forehead.

"Not in spite of it."

[profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei felt the blood as it beaded at his lip. The incisive bite had startled him, coming from nowhere like that. Irinarhov's unwilling descent into tenderness had almost thawed him, he thought, until the sniper's own buried anger undid his best intentions.

He regarded Kassian with cool eyes, touching his finger to the corner of his savaged mouth, and reached out, daubing Irinarhov's forehead with crimson in a hasty cross.

"There," he said. "I would say that would make you safe from the vengeance of those who would punish you for your Father's sins...but I'm no lamb. "

He snorted.

"But then, I'm also a second born son."

He remembered being punched in the mouth in bouts. Sometimes it had even turned him on.

Kassian's little territorial brandings were nothing like that- but somehow they affected him in ways a blunt, pummeling strike did not. He could always shake off a hard hit. Roll his shoulders and snort through his nose. Come back swinging harder.

But somehow it was harder to shake off a sting.

Kassian always took it one step further, by being willing to draw blood, and it kept him in line. One step beyond where he was willing to go.

Isaev shuddered when he thought of ever letting himself go that far.

His forehead, that stung too.

"What was that? The kiss of death or the kiss of a father?" he asked, cynical. "I'll call you dad if it gets you off."

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian frowned, reaching up to rub at his forehead, gloved fingertips smearing the blood between his eyes.

"It wouldn't get me off," he said flatly.

He remembered his father kissing him, though, long ago, when Kassian was a small boy. Dmitri Irinarhov had pressed rough lips to his son's brow, and praised him affectionately.

Kassian remembered spending evenings in his father's lap pouring over books, learning his letters and words. He remembered his father reading him stories, tales of brave men who lived in foregone times, and the terrible wars they fought.

Ancient history in more ways than one.

He regarded Isaev, gaze lingering for a moment on his mouth, and the swollen red welt left there.

Reflexively, Kassian licked his own lips, and tasted blood.

"Come on," he said, voice gentle again. He laid a hand on Isaev's arm and tugged it. "Showers. I'll wash your back."

He reached up to stroke an unruly length of hair out of Isaev's eyes. "I'll wash the rest of you, too," he whispered.

Just like he had that night. The night of the murder.

"Come on," he murmured.

[profile] andrei_isaev: Isaev leaned in, hands in his pockets, looking at him solemnly.

"I'm all yours," he said, artlessly. "...Papa."

This time he said it innocently, but with a dark and teasing undertone.

There was often something protective- paternal- about Kassian's actions toward him. Given their ages, it was unavoidable. But paternal wasn't fatherly.

No, paternal was...

Anything but.

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian gave Isaev a look. "Funny," he said, sternly, though he wasn't really mad. It was good to see the lighthearted, insouciant side of Isaev resurface, however twisted his jokes might turn.

He nudged Isaev again and set them to walking once more. They cut around the south wing, straight for the officers' showers.

Again, he was reminded of that night. They'd walked close together, talking, trying to make sense of what they'd just been through. It seemed like there wasn't as much to say now as there had been then, but he didn't know what that meant.

He glanced at Isaev sidelong. With the ushanka and the greatcoat, he looked older, Kassian thought, but his newly-mature appearance seemed more significant. Something about Isaev seemed older now, as if by confessing his past, he had become weighted from the responsibility of it.

...or maybe they were just exhausted, he reminded himself. Worn thin with stress and overspent agression. This would still take some time to sort out.

They arrived at the officers' showers and slipped inside, and again, it was empty save themselves. Lucky, Kassian supposed, given it wasn't nearly as late as it had been that night, but still, from what he'd seen, there wasn't much activity in the officers' showers anyway.

Pulling off his coat and laying it aside, Kassian began to strip.

[profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei sat on a bench, and started with his jackboots. The he worked his way up to his jacket, and down to his jodhpurs, rising to pull them off and fold them, draping them over a locker door.

Now in his telnyashka and shorts, he stood and watched Kassian from under the slight shadow of his hair.

"Sometimes, I wish I could take a bath," he remarked. "Just a nice body soak. Especially when I ache like this."

He didn't add that the last time he'd ached like this was from a bruising bare-knuckle brawl with an oversized GRU lieutenant who had tackled him over a training bale.

But hard fucking with a jaded veteran sniper probably counted at least as much on the pain continuum.

"There are hot springs throughout Tselinoyarsk," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Imanov and I went on a survey of the pools and caves. Found several and mapped them out."

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian thought about that as he undressed.

"That would be nice," he admitted.

It was the sort of luxury Kassian rarely had, given how he'd grown up, given that he'd spent his entire adult life in the military. He'd had posts where he hadn't even had access to a banya.

He pulled his tel'nik over his head, rolling his shoulders to ease some of the stiffness.

"They weren't too hot to soak in?" he asked, following the implication of Isaev's words. He thought about Isaev and Imanov soaking in hot springs, probably horsing around, roughhousing. Maybe it had gone farther.

For some reason, the idea of the pair of young senior lieutenants getting into misbehavior with each other in the past seemed less threatening to Kassian. It somehow didn't rankle like it used to, and he didn't know why.

Maybe it had something to do with the way things had changed between himself and Isaev, but Kassian didn't pursue it. Not now, when exhaustion chased through his limbs and his mind with even parity.

He wouldn't question it, for now.

"You tried them?" He cocked a brow, almost wry.

He took off his shorts and stepped into one of the stalls, then turned on the showerhead, drawing back to let the water run until it was hot.

After a few moments, he approved of the temperature, and gestured Isaev to join him inside.

[profile] andrei_isaev: Isaev followed, dutifully, like Man Friday.

He duck under the spray and stood facing Irinarhov unblinking.

"Davai, of course we tried them. They're nice and warm. Geothermal pools, I think they call them."

He watched the water trail down the sniper's chest in heated rivulets, and the steam that rose behind him like brimstone and sulfur.

But colorless.

Colorless.

He felt his arms relax, and his shoulders. He felt his tension ebb.

"...I'll show you," he offered, hesitantly, glancing up. "If you'd like. Sometime."

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian's mouth pulled the side, his expression momentarily unguarded.

"I would like that," he said, softly.

Kassian wondered at it - even Isaev's diffident, heartfelt offer made his chest warm, and it wasn't just a side effect of the hot water. Strangely, he felt younger.

He raised his hand and reached out to graze his fingers along Isaev's temple, slowly, brushing wet hair back and out of Isaev's face. Kassian lingered at it only for a few moments, though he pulled his hand away reluctantly.

There would be time later, for idle caresses.

He found the soap and worked it into a lather, then drew closer and began to wash Isaev's chest. Best to start in fairly neutral territory, he thought, considering what Kassian had done to him earlier.

What they'd done to each other, really, but now his touch was nothing but gentle, and he traced over the hard, smooth muscle slowly.

He said nothing as he worked, only thinking idly of hot springs and warm beds, covering the surface of Isaev's broad chest before moving onto his arms, then down to his wide, strong hands.

Hands that could kill, when Isaev wanted. Kassian pressed his thumb into Isaev's palm, massaging.

"This is a strange place," he said, shaking his head slightly. "Alligators, hot springs, swamps, snow." Privately, he wondered what exactly they were researching in Groznyj Grad's labs, but he knew it was none of his business.

"Were you an Ocelot before you came here, or did that happen afterward?" he asked, afterward, realizing he didn't know. He didn't know a lot of things about Isaev, but maybe it was better to start off with more neutral topics than the issue of family.

[profile] andrei_isaev: It was a strange place, Tselinoyarsk. Andrei had often thought so, in the time he'd spent here.

"The unusual fauna is all the German's doing," he said, in a low voice, closing his eyes as the Captain's soap-slicked hands moved over his chest. There was a slow autonomy to the way Kasya performed actions, even such as this one, bathing him.

"The topography..." Andrei exhaled softly, pausing. "That's indigenous. The swamp lowland. The warm mountain aquifers. Minerals," he murmured. "Very enjoyable."

He paused.

"I went to officers' school. I was recruited for GRU Spetsnaz as a cadet. I requested to be assigned to a frontier outpost. I got my wish, despite...."

Irinarhov's fingers slowed over his lower shoulders, hovering before resuming their task.

"...my father would have preferred I stay in Leningrad. And in the MVD, enacting our family legacy."

He let his head tip back, and felt the water hitting his throat in gentle menace.

"But they could hardly argue with an appointment to the GRU. Especially as I was recommended for the Rys Squadron."

He glanced at Kassian's dark, intent gaze once, before continuing, as if to reassure himself that he was not alone, having only heard his own voice for several minutes.

"OSNAZ Lynx was the predecessor to OSNAZ Ocelot. We were stationed out at Bolshaya Past Base while Groznyj Grad was being constructed. Field Major Rys was an expert in silent assasination and snowdeath, and we were trained accordingly."

"He was utterly silent on his feet," said Andrei, admiringly. Then he laughed.

It was funny to Isaev that he was in awe of the man, after all this time.

"I learned everything from him. How to move, that I didn't need to be a small man to effect no change in the world. He was a bigger man than I was."

Isaev shrugged.

"OSNAZ Rys and Major Rys were reassigned. He was given new charges, and our squadron was split. Ours was a desirable training. All the stealth specialists were farmed out to other units of Spetsnaz within GRU- but Major Ocelot got first pick."
Andrei felt Irinarhov's hands leave him briefly. He didn't open his eyes, trusting them to return.

"By then, Groznyj Grad was built, and Volgin had set down roots. And there was a new young officer who came with him. Volgin suggested he resume the name of Osnaz Lynx, but..."

He smiled obscurely.

"Lynx are secretive creatures," he said, shrugging. "They blend with snow. They catch prey with great hands."

[personal profile] capt_kasya: "Not Ocelot's MO," Kassian commented.

He resumed washing Isaev, soaping his lower back, then moving to his buttocks. Here, he was especially careful, especially gentle, his touch light around the welt of angry red puckered flesh he'd abused so savagely earlier.

"Sorry," he murmured. Kassian knew it had to hurt, now.

He dropped to his knee to continue, washing between Isaev's legs and down his thighs.

Kassian thought about what Isaev had told him, about the GRU, about how he'd had been chosen for special training. Training procedures and recruitment had come a long way since Kassian's time, when Spetsnaz was in its more formative years.

And here he'd originally thought that a remote posting to a small unit in the Urals had been meant to be a punishment. Now he saw that only the elite would be assigned here.

Good thing they'd needed a sniper.

"And now...your father? Is he proud?" Kassian asked.

He damn well should be, he thought briefly, touch lingering at the back of Isaev's kneecap. Isaev had even started to get mildly aroused, he saw, which amused him. Twenty-three years old.

"You chose your own road, but you've excelled."

[profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei didn't bother flinching at the localized tenderness. He knew it would hurt, it did, and there was no point in belaboring it.

Irianrhov's fingers lingered only perfunctorily, and his mumbled apology was crystallized contrition.

Isaev laughed softly.

"Don't be stupid, comrade," he replied, finding the sniper's head with his palm and stroking it up against his lower stomach.

It was said with utter affection.

"My father..." mused Andrei. "Yes, he's quite proud. Isaevs are Isaevs."

But as he said it, Andrei realized he had never really cared what his father thought.

No, his father had never been allowed close to him. There had always been one freezing degree between him and Aleksandr.

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian paused to wrap an arm around Isaev's thigh, pressing close, then nuzzled his face against Isaev's stomach affectionately as Isaev touched him.

That was nice.

"That's good. He should be," he murmured, kissing Isaev's rippled pectorals. He pulled back after a while. To touch Isaev more would probably lead to more than touching, and Kassian didn't think either of them were in the shape for that.

He released Isaev's leg and then continued with his washing. As he'd done before, he nudged Isaev until he lifted one of his feet, washed it, then moved to the other.

When he'd finished, he stood up. He'd left Isaev's prick for last. Once more, he was gentle, and tried not to be deliberately arousing. Kassian figured having your lover's hand on your cock was fairly arousing no matter what, but he tried anyway.

"I'll wash your hair, too," he promised.

[profile] andrei_isaev: "Thanks," managed Andrei, averting his eyes with a slight laugh. "It could use it."

He willed his cock not to stiffen, out of respect for the brutalizing they'd given each other, but it was a battle he only partially won.

He contented his conscience by not thrusting into Irinarhov's hand, despite the slickness of the soap and hot water, and the familiarly arousing touch, callused and sure.

Raising a rueful eyebrow, he started to whistle.

Then he caught Irinarhov's eye and sobered.

"Hey," he said, quietly, "I didn't hurt you too much, did I? Before?"

No, idiot, you hurt him just enough.

Isaev scowled and then smiled at his own internal monologue.

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian let out a short, amused breath, letting his touch on Isaev's cock settle and turn more intimate, though he knew it had to be sore, after everything they'd done.

"I'm fine," he told Isaev, shaking his head slightly.

And he was. It still hurt, and he knew he'd be stiff tomorrow, but Kassian could tell there was nothing seriously wrong, no actual damage inflicted.

But even moreso than that, the tension that had rubbed like an open wound between them seemed to have washed away here in the shower.

"And you're fine...from the looks of things. How many times can you get off in one night, anyway?"

He looked up, raising a brow, wry.

Kassian really did wonder. One of these days, they would have to make a concerted effort to find out.

"You think it would hurt too much if I sucked you off right now?" he asked. "Want to try?"

[profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei snorted.

"Sure it will hurt," he murmured. "It will also...not hurt," he added, rubbing Irinarhov's hair in a slow circle.

"So I say...suck my cock," he whispered, darkly, caressing the rough, hard line of the older man's jaw.

He leaned back against the wall.

"I'll rub your shoulders," he said, indulgently. "It doesn't take much concentration to come, not like this."

Not the way you do it, he felt like adding, but decided it would be crude, a whisper meant for a courser moment.

[personal profile] capt_kasya: "Sounds good," he murmured.

Kassian positioned himself in front of Isaev, kneeling on the concrete. Water drummed his back and ran down Isaev's body to sluice over him in heavier rivulets.

As promised, Isaev laid his hands on Kassian's shoulders, covering them with broad, strong palms. Kassian dipped his head and closed his mouth around Isaev's prick in turn.

He kept the pressure light but insistent at first, not wanting to tease outright, but not rough Isaev up again, either. Just a smooth, back-and-forth motion punctuated by his tongue's caresses, and the occasional break to breathe, when he just nuzzled and kissed.

Keeping one hand locked around Isaev's hip, he also used the other to caress and draw out Isev's response, stroking his balls, rubbing the insides of his thighs.

Kassian didn't rush, but instead let things proceed at Isaev's rhythm, idle gratification.

[profile] andrei_isaev: It was an relaxing feeling, under the blunt and battering sting of the hot spray, leaning back and letting his thighs ease outward to cradle Kassian, as his hands rubbed and kneaded the sniper's taut, gun-honed shoulders, drawing him inward.

"You ever," he breathed, pausing to stroke the mist-dampened hair back from Irinarhov's brow, "...have moments where you forget...everything?"

Andrei felt the muscles of his loin and shanks flex and release, involuntarily as Kasya gently worked him over.

"I could swear..." he murmured, softly, working his fingers along the knots of Irinarhov's neck, "that every time we do this...I smell...I feel the air- the same...feeling as I used to have lying on the coast in the Krimea."

Andrei smiled ruefully beneath his hair, biting his lip, laughing softly.

"Ignore me, Dmitrich. I'm sucked half out of my mind."

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian made an agreeable noise around Isaev's cock, but took his time about releasing him, slowly drawing his mouth away like a lingering kiss. He rubbed his cheek down the soft-hard length of flesh, careful not to let his stubble scrape along Isaev's tender skin.

"Sounds nice," he murmured, pressing his lips against Isaev's inner thigh, letting them linger, tracing patterns. "I've never done that."

He wondered what it was like, having a holiday on the Black Sea. Kassian had never particularly thought of such things before. He usually spent any leave he'd had over the years holed up reading.

Reading on the coast in the Krimea might be nice, though, he pondered.

"Tell me about it, comrade," Kassian said, then dipped his head low again, bringing his mouth to the tip of Isaev's cock.

He paused, for a moment. "I'll be listening."

[profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei laughed.

"Not much to say about it that wouldn't sound...khui, that's good...ah, hyperbolic."

He turned his face up into the spray, inhaling steam, feeling it cleanse him.

"There are high peninsulas and cliffs of pumice rock, and cypress trees. That's above you. But you're lying below, on the expanse of sand..."

He paused, smiling.

"And the sand goes for a half mile before you reach the sea. It's as white as Siberia, made of shells and not silica..."

Kassian's attentions were pushing him close to the edge, and he remembered creeping to the edges of the high volcanic cliffs, gazing down on the glimmering coast and the bright cobalt sea.

"...the sea itself is like a sapphire. It sparkles, comrade. And everything smells of salt and citrus. And you sweat, under the sun, but the breeze cools you..."

Andrei made a soft noise, as Kasya sucked him harder.

"And this..." he breathed. "You...are the same."

He was losing the will to articulate.

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian closed his eyes, liking the sound of that.

He continued his attentions, sucking harder now, taking Isaev deeper, encouraging his rhythm with a guiding hand, making low murmuring noises.

It was beautiful and poetic to compare being with one's lover to such an idyllic place, Kassian thought, flattered. He felt a rush of warmth toward the younger man, a deep-seated affection for the way Isaev always spoke, with such vivid, uncalculated honesty.

Kassian could picture Isaev there on the beach, long, smoothly muscled body tanned bronze, water beading on his skin, pale ash air gleaming gold in the sun.

Isaev's hands were strong and wide, and gripped Kassian's shoulders possessively. Isaev was close, now, he could tell. He could feel Isaev's muscles strain and could hear the sharpness of his breath.

Kassian continued, pressing his head down, accommodating the deeper, faster thrusts that Isaev made as he built to his peak.

He thought he understood what Isaev had meant about moments where everything was forgotten. Now it was just the two of them, muscle and water and rhythmic motion like waves, and the taste of salt and citrus.

[profile] andrei_isaev: "Oh god," whispered Isaev, softly, sinking, sliding against the wall. "It's nice."

His fingers wove deeper, into the dark net of hair that always entangled him.

"I'll take you there, comrade, some time. Screw Moscow on leave. We've all seen whores."

His head fell forward and his lips parted.

He remembered a cove, a small beach between two high cliffs that protruded into the sea, effectively cutting off access to the spit of secluded sand.

You had to swim around or climb down from above, and no one came within miles of that wild part of the shore. All the residences were far apart, and party members' villas. You could go days without seeing so much as a boat.

He remembered racing Ilarion around the point, overhand stroke, and laughing at the futility of trying.

Lasha was an excellent swimmer. Andrei was only adequate.

Collapsing on the sand, catching their breath. Realizing the seclusion of circumstances, slowly, and what that had led to, inexplicably, under the heat of the afternoon sun.

Andrei's thoughts grazed Ilarion only because Irinarhov now evoked them- Krimea was synonymous in his mind with deep and nurturing sexuality, abandon and warmth.

"There are places...I want to have you," he managed to breathe, "under the stars, or out under the sun."

He might regret his candor later, or saying such romanticist notions out loud, but in the moment, on the precipice of orgasm, he couldn't deny his mouth the words.

Andrei felt an inner spring release, like the fine mechanics of a timepiece.

"Kasya," he gasped, "No one but you."

It was the sweetest, most honeyed sensation he'd ever felt, coming this way, and his hips inclined, drawn forward like a cobra charmed by a fakir.

He released, and shuddered, and embraced Kassian's neck between his fingers, feeling the expulsion of his essence and the sniper taking it past his lips with utter devotion.

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Isaev's words made Kassian dizzy with the surge of emotion. He couldn't put name to everything he felt - love and adoration, for the most part, the thrill of deep passion - but there were other things, too. Awe, at how good it felt. Wry perplexity, at how this ended up happening to him.

Not that he wanted to question his fortune, or fate, but still, he wondered.

Bittersweet warmth flooded his mouth and he took it in, swallowing, wanting to capture part of Isaev's quintessence and make it part of him.

And honestly, Isaev already was a part of him, imprinted on Kassian's soul.

The weight of words was not a burden; it settled comfortably, like the heft of a rifle on his shoulder.

He brought his hands up and rested them on Isaev's arms, stroking lightly. Gradually, he pulled his head back and released Isaev's cock, taking in a deep breath, tilting his head out of the spray.

Kassian opened his eyes, lifting his sable gaze up to Isaev, his expression relaxed and candid, lips curved upward into a singular, drowsy smile.

[profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei laughed softly, regarding Kassian, slicking the sniper's hair back with a slow, careless hand.

"Strangest thing..." he murmured. "Right now, you look about twenty years old, comrade."

He frowned.

He couldn't pin it down. Was it because his hair was wet? Was it the lazy, insouciant, half-eyed gaze?

No, not those things.

Andrei wasn't sure what it was.

But one thing occurred to him.

"Do you know, I've seen you smile a hundred times now," Andrei said. "But this is the first smile I've ever seen that's lingered."

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian dropped his gaze, diffident now, but half-wry.

He tried to school his features, pressing his lips together, but he still felt far too flushed with warmth and wholly content in Isaev's company to make a concerted effort.

"You make me feel like I'm twenty years old," he said, voice affectionately gruff. He tightened his grip around Isaev's arms briefly, then stroked them in slow, lazy circles.

"...Andrei," he added.

He looked up at Isaev again, brows drawing together slightly. "You make me happy. It's not something I've had a lot of in my life, so I want you to know I appreciate it."

He ran his tongue over his lips a moment, savoring the taste that lingered, then Kassian tugged on Isaev's arm. "We should finish this shower," he murmured, "so we can go to bed."

[profile] andrei_isaev: "I make you happy," repeated Andrei, hesitantly. "And what about when I hurt you, comrade?"

He rose to his feet, drawing Irinarhov with him, soap in hand and starting to return the favor.

"How about then?"

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian snorted lightly.

"I like that too, I guess."

He shrugged his shoulders, craning his face up to the spray, letting the water drum down on his skin, his hair, his scalp. Isaev's hands ran over him, steady and sure.

"Indifference is the cruelest emotion, I think," Kassian said, frowning. "Not caring. I don't think I could ever feel that way about you."

No. He knew he couldn't.

Kassian turned back to Isaev, gaze dark but clear. "You have the power to make me angry, but it's only because you matter so much."

[profile] andrei_isaev: Isaev's lip curled.

"You make me fucking furious," he whispered.

More love words.

God, what a pair of fucking miscreant bastards they were.

"How did I wind up with your dick in my ass, the fucking evening of the day I met you?"

He trailed lather and broad fingers through the dark, soft netherhair that girded Irinarhov's taut loins, swirling it into patterns.

He leaned forward, so that they were eye to eye, unflinching.

"I was rough," he intoned. "Because I couldn't bear to think of ripping myself away from you."

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian met Isaev's eyes, gaze long and steady. He took in Isaev's anger and fierce conviction, letting that warm him, too.

He leaned incrementally closer, flicking out his tongue to touch the red welt he'd left on Isaev's lower lip.

"I bit you," he murmured back, "so every time it hurt, you'd think of me."

He paused, then, and snorted, shaking his head.

"...and I didn't hear you complaining about my dick in your ass," he growled, then leaned closer, for a long, slow kiss.

[profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei seized the sniper and crushed him in his arms, but kissed him as he initiated, with languorous bliss.

"I'm the one who told you to fuck me, aren't I?" he hissed, as they broke for breath and pinned his lips to the Captain's once more.

He did think of Irinarhov when his tongue wandered over his lip.

"And I marked you all over in blue violets," Andrei ground out, breathing softly labored. "How do you like that?"

Heated spray drummed down on them, and soap fled Irinarhov's newly clean body, leaving them both glistening and wet.

He held himself against Kassian, to feel the press of water-slicked muscle.

[personal profile] capt_kasya: "I like that," Kassian breathed, tilting his head to gently gnaw at Isaev's jaw. He dragged his lips up to Isaev's ear, pausing to lick the delicately curved outline.

"I like that you put your brand on me, claimed me as yours. You signed your name in bruises all over my body."

His breath brushed against Isaev's ear, cool in contrast to the spray of water.

"Like marking kills," he continued.

Kassian brought his hands up to Isaev's face, running his hands through Isaev's wet-silk hair.

He brought his mouth back to Isaev's, trading idle kisses.

"You can do that to me anytime you want, comrade," he whispered.

[profile] andrei_isaev: "You're going to make me hard again," muttered Isaev, rolling his eyes back and biting his lip. "And my junk is raw, Dmitrich. Raw."

He eased his hand down the sniper's back, letting the side of his hand crest gently into the cleft of his buttocks, touching it with soap.

"How about you?" he asked, in a low voice. "Sore, I guess. I know I am."

It stung, he know it did, because it had him. But it was a transient act, and as he pushed with his knee against the sniper's inner thigh, urging Irinarhov's stance to widen, the water that coursed down his back soon washed away all tracing of the stinging surfactant.

He rubbed his own stubble on the sniper's, feeling the gritty friction of their masculinity.

"Can we go to your barracks?"

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Briefly, Kassian looked smug.

"I'm sore too," he admitted, but then shrugged. Unlike Isaev, Kassian didn't think he could manage to come another time tonight, and didn't particularly feel the need to try, either.

He brushed his lips against Isaev's. "Let's go," he murmured.

Kassian backed off slowly, out of the spray, running his hands through his hair to squeeze out excess moisture.

He exited the shower stall and grabbed a pair of towels, tossing one at Isaev as soon as he emerged.

"I'm going to sleep well tonight, comrade, that's for sure," he muttered wryly, patting himself dry carefully.

[profile] andrei_isaev: They redressed, and walked like shadows to the barracks-house where Kassian's quarters were, and Irinarhov let them in.

The door broke and a weak shaft of light from the hall poured in before them, painting the concrete floor.

Andrei felt his muscles slacken even further. Something was familiar, something reassuring in this room, now. It wasn't his, but it was theirs, by night.

"I can't wait to get between the sheets," Andrei moaned. "And forget about your fucking father, and my fucking family, and our fucking twisted life in this fucking..."

He trailed off, smiling mischievously.

"And forget all this fucking fucking!"

He stripped off his shirt and fell back across Iriarhov's bed, boots in the air.

"Let's never fuck again!" he declared melodramatically.

[personal profile] capt_kasya: Kassian let out a single, short laugh.

He moved to the side of the bunk and grabbed each dangling leg in turn, pulling off Isaev's boots and tossing them to the side. Then he undid Isaev's pants and stripped away those too, smirking as he regarded Isaev sprawled naked on his bed.

He liked the view.

Kassian sat down to take off his boots and remove his uniform before crawling under the covers. He and Isaev automatically arranged themselves the way they'd gotten used to sleeping together in his narrow bunk.

He tucked his arm around Isaev's side, and leaned over briefly, to place a kiss on his temple.

"Oh yeah?" he murmured in Isaev's ear. "Let's see how long that lasts."

September 2009

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