capt_kasya: (animated 2 sniper)
[personal profile] capt_kasya
I'm still not quite sure what to think about the fact I'm a father now.

I guess technically, I've been one for a while, though I didn't know it. But it seems to me that being a father transcends biology, and is - or should be - about...

Well, that's my problem, I suppose.

I don't know how a real father is supposed to act. I can't judge by my own father, and no one else I know had a real father in their lives. Not Isaev. Liadov told me he never knew his father. The girl in Flame Patrol only talks about her mother and grandmother.

Except...

Now that I think about it, I remember Vitya telling me about his father. He died in the war, a hero.

But I don't want to ask Vitya about this. Not when it's about Aryol.

In a way it doesn't matter if it's true or not, if I'm really Aryol's father or if this is just a coincidence that we've taken too far.

A bullseye could just mean that you're lucky, after all.

Even if it can't ever been proven, it doesn't matter, because both he and I believe it, and that, more than anything else, makes it true.

I still don't know what I'm going to do about this.

Back at the spring, I told Isaev about love, and how I see it. At how having a comrade at your side gives you strength.

In the Symposium, Plato says:

And if there were only some way of contriving that a state or an army should be made up of lovers and their loves, they would be the very best governors of their own city, abstaining from all dishonour, and emulating one another in honour; and when fighting at each other's side, although a mere handful, they would overcome the world. For what lover would not choose rather to be seen by all mankind than by his beloved, either when abandoning his post or throwing away his arms? He would be ready to die a thousand deaths rather than endure this. Or who would desert his beloved or fail him in the hour of danger?

Plutarch said this quote was the inspiration behind the Theban Band, the ancient Greek army that was comprised of men and their lovers.

It's said they fought the Spartans, and won.

I believe in that ideal. Maybe it's antiquated, but I believe in it anyway, and that's what gives it power.

That's why I'm fortunate I met Isaev when I did. All of this would be a lot harder to get through otherwise, but even so, it's not going to be easy trying to figure out what to do about the fact I'm the father of my ex-lover's lover.

...when I put it that way, it sounds even more twisted.

...

I'm glad Isaev's at my side.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: The lane at the end was Kassian's - at least, he'd come to see it that way. It was the one he'd occupied on his very first day with the squad, when he'd demonstrated his sharpshooting with a few distance shots, and Isaev had wolf whistled across the lanes.

Ever since then, Kassian naturally gravitated toward that lane, and now, he might as well have written his name on it for all that anyone else used it. The target was always set back where he'd left it the last time he'd shot, generally around 1200 meters.

For that reason, he hadn't gotten twitchy even though he'd left his rifle there. He didn't like letting it out of his sight, but he knew it was safe and waiting for him in his lane.

When they arrived, he took it up in his hands again, running his fingers over the weathered wood before checking it over, making sure it was still in the state he'd left it. Standard procedure, when a gun was in an unknown condition, left out of sight for any reason.

The motions were careful, attentive, though he still felt a lingering sense of surreality.

Vitya was alive. His spotter, Aryol, could very likely be Kassian's son.

And to top it all off, the two of them were apparently in a relationship.

That bothered Kassian for more than a few reasons, but he was just as aware it was none of his business. Viktor wasn't his problem anymore. And Aryol was his own man.

And the entire situation was a lot more complex than just who was fucking whom.

Kassian looked up at Isaev after a few moments, brow furrowed and heavy.

"Part of me wants to go dig Viktor's bullets out of the target backing and have Lieutenant Rakitin compare them to the one I took out of the wall in the Colonel's quarters," he told Isaev, quietly. "But there would be no point."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: "Could he tell you anything other than that the bullets came from a Dragunov?" asked Isaev, watching Kassian shoulder the gun.

He paused, pulling off his beret and shoving it into his pocket, running his hands back through his hair.

"Why not," he remonstrated, after a moment. "Why not do it. It would prove something to you, in any case."

He wasn't sure what Irinarhov was getting at, claiming futility, unless he felt it would be inconclusive.

"Why would there be no point?"

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian shook his head. "All it would prove is what we already know."

He shrugged.

"Rakitin should be able to tell if the bullets were fired from the same rifle. The inside of the barrel makes marks like fingerprints, and no two are the same."

He glanced across the range. Vitya and Aryol were leaving, starting the trek over the hill back to the main grounds. Kassian watched for a few moments, until they disappeared from view.

"But it doesn't matter."

He looked back at Isaev, and searched his gaze for a moment, then his mouth curved upward, faintly.

"For a minute, I thought you were really going to fuck me right here," he murmured, brows raised.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei paused, then relented, lips easing into a lazy smile.

"For a minute there, I thought I was too."

He laughed quietly.

"The only thing that stopped me was not wanting to traumatize your kid."

Andrei snorted.

"Well, that and your comrade Viktor already thinks I'm an al fresco degenerate."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian smirked.

"Well, you're a degenerate, at least," he said, voice low with wry fondness, and he reached out to brush his knuckles across Isaev's arm.

That felt good. Grounding. He drew strength from the contact, and found it steadied the lingering unease he felt.

"You know, I still can't believe it," he said, quietly.

He paused, meeting Isaev's eyes.

"I'm glad you were here with me, Alexandrich."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Kasya's touch felt warm and affectionate. Always the arm. Always right there. He was going to need skin grafts after thirty years or so.

Andrei frowned, looking up.

His classic face wore a thoroughly modern look of contrition.

"...I shouldn't have done that, Irinarhov. Not like that. It was a miscalculation on my part."

He began to walk, shrugging into the motion.

"I just saw him, and...I couldn't believe it. I swear, Kassian, if I met him at twilight, I'd have kissed him...or worse."

The idea made him snort out a small, cynical laugh.

"That would have been a hell of a welcome."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian laughed once too, a single exhalation of breath.

He followed Isaev as he began to walk away from the range, pulling abreast after a moment. Matching Isaev's strides had become instinct now, like firing his rifle. He simply knew how without having to think. Together, they crested the hill.

"I guess you have to be careful who you bump into in the dark then," he said, blackly amused.

He thought about Aryol. Twenty years old, he'd said. Twenty was so long ago.

"It's all right. It would have been a shock no matter what. I don't feel old enough to have a son that age. Or to have a son at all."

Kassian rubbed the back of his neck, absently.

"You've had whores, Andrei. What would you do if you found out one of them had your kid?"

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Isaev smiled obscurely.

"You should have been careful who you bumped into in the dark, comrade."

But he paused, considering Kassian's words.

Yes, he'd had whores.

"I don't rightly know," he said, bemused. "I suppose most of them would have an even chance of conceiving from me or Ilya," he added, making the vague confession before he realized it.

It wasn't something he considered, even then, when he'd drank vodka and idly watched his comrade screwing a pretty girl, waiting his turn and helping out when the mood struck, kissing her here or there, letting her suck him off while Ilya fucked her from behind.

They'd always had fun with the Moscow girls. They teased them and were kind to them, called them "sister", jokingly. There was never any romance to it, not as far as Andrei was concerned. Just fun, and laughter, and good-natured soldierly debauchery.

Certainly conception was the last thing on anyone's mind. But it was possible, despite the fact that they'd always used condoms.

"I'd be taken aback. I'm taken aback on your behalf too."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian nodded, but then he frowned, thinking about Imanov.

He'd almost forgotten all about the confrontation they'd had earlier, in the wake of meeting Aryol, and now he felt guilty, like he somehow felt Imanov didn't merit his consideration, even though he was so clearly important to Isaev.

He thought about Isaev and Imanov sharing whores. It seemed like the type of thing they'd do, not out of character at all from what he'd learned of their friendship.

Kassian couldn't imagine sharing a whore with Isaev. The idea of having a whore again repulsed him. The idea of sharing Isaev with anyone rankled him.

He thought about Imanov, leaning back against the wall half-collapsed, after Kassian had told him.

But told him what, really? That he was serious about Isaev? Why would that, of all things, lay Imanov low?

Kassian let out his breath in a slow sigh.

"Not to change the subject, but I have to tell you about something," he said, grimacing. He had the feeling Isaev wasn't going to like this, but he had to tell him anyway.

Isaev needed to be prepared, for when Imanov braced him in turn.

"Earlier today...after morning weapons practice, Imanov approached me. He wanted to talk."

He turned, to meet Isaev's eyes.

"About you and me."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei sighed.

"Is he still getting on your case, then, comrade? I'm sorry, I truly am- I'll talk to him. Tell him to chill down. It's not fair, to hold that first day against you."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian shook his head.

"I don't know. He was...serious. He kept asking me about our relationship. I told him he should be talking to you instead, but he disagreed."

He frowned, thinking about what had come after, and if he should have done anything differently. Perhaps, but he didn't know what. If he had it to do over again, he would probably do the same thing.

"Anyway...he kept pushing. Asking what my intentions toward you were. Finally, I had to tell him that I don't have casual relationships, and what's between you and me isn't simply for convenience, but that you know what my intentions are, and the rest is private."

Kassian paused.

"He didn't take it well. I'm sorry, comrade. I didn't mean to hurt him. But he wouldn't let it rest, and I wasn't going to lie, or downplay the most important thing in my life, either."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Isaev was stricken.

He drew up, face incredulous and sharp.

"What-?"

Andrei closed his eyes, shoving his hands into his coat.

"My god. He thinks I'm a reprobate," he murmured, bitterly. "I knew he wouldn't understand."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian winced, coming to a stop as well, looking down.

"I'm sorry," he said, again. "It shouldn't have been me that said anything. But I didn't know what else to do."

Privately, Kassian thought that if that were truly the case - that Imanov condemned Isaev for loving a man, while fucking him in a comradely manner was perfectly acceptable - then that was the worst kind of hypocrisy Kassian knew.

But at the same time, he almost didn't think that was the case. It seemed to him that Imanov's dismay had been more personal.

His hand twitched with wanting, and he raised it briefly to clasp Isaev's shoulder firmly, but released it just as quickly, in case it was unwelcome.

He didn't know if he'd just cost Isaev and Imanov their friendship, but he could see how Isaev would see it that way.

Kassian wanted to say something, but he held his tongue, and watched Isaev carefully instead, eyes dark with contrition.

He figured he'd said enough, today.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei shook his head, recovering quickly and pushing it out of his mind.

"It's all right, Irinarhov," he said, measuring his tone.

He paused.

"I suppose I could have told him...something. But what? I don't even know how to articulate it."

They were nearing the barracks, now, and he reflexively unshouldered his AK, swinging it down, dismantling as they approached the door.

"He won't speak to me about it. Except to say that he thinks..."

Andrei's lip curled slightly, as if absent.

"...he thinks that you bring out the worst in me. The part of me that he sees as...fatally flawed."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: "What?"

Kassian stared at Isaev, mouth hanging open for a second, before he gathered himself and closed it.

He frowned, deeply, wondering how someone who claimed to be a comrade could say such a thing, though he was at a loss to understand exactly what Imanov meant.

He let Isaev enter the captains' barracks first, accustomed to always taking rear guard, but he was shaking his head as they walked in.

"What part of you is that?"

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Isaev's eyes rolled wearily as he stripped off his gear, holster first, hanging his belt over a chair.

"The part that fucks brothers," he muttered, "The part that gets hard at a punch in the jaw. The part that is drawn to a surly marksman twice my age. The part that is dark. The part that goes too far."

He shook his head.

"Imanov...Ilya thinks you reflect...reinforce...my sickness. You twist me even further up...and he's of the opinion I don't need the help."

He sat down, rubbing his head briefly, then set to work on his boots.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian stood, watching Isaev pull of his boots and set them aside. Watching the tension in the muscles and tendons of Isaev's contoured arms.

"I love that part," he said, finally, quietly.

He unshouldered his rifle, but paused before turning to the weapons locker.

Isaev wasn't looking up, but Kassian held his gaze on him anyway, dark eyes steady, and solemn.

"You're not sick, Dasha. There's nothing wrong with you."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Isaev looked up, a wry smile contorting his lips.

"No, I'm not sick," he acquiesced. "But I'm not exactly wholesome, either."

He shook his head.

"Listen to you. Nothing wrong," he said, amused. He raised a finger, charging lightly, accusingly.

"What about the gun, comrade? Even you thought I was a little damaged that day, didn't you?"

Hell, Kassian had said as much.

"What did you call me, Irinarhov?" he whispered. "Or don't you remember?"

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian remembered.

His lips curved upward before he could stop them, and he didn't fight the expression too hard, either.

"I called you a sick fuck," he said, softly, lingering over the words like a delicacy, tasting their particular flavor.

Kassian shrugged then, deliberately, and moved closer, pushing into Isaev's personal space, stepping so that one leg rested on either side of one of Isaev's knees.

He looked down at Isaev, eyes half-lidded.

"But it made me harder, when you said that. It's making me hard now, thinking about it."

The cut of his Ocelot uniform tunic neatly obscured his crotch, but he reached down to pull it up, giving Isaev a glimpse of the tenting bulge in his pants underneath.

"If you are, then I am too. Maybe that's what he's talking about, twisting you further. But...it's part of you. It's all part of you. You can't deny it. You can't pretend it's not there. You can't wish it away. All you can do is love it. Indulge it. Not be afraid of it."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Isaev tilted his head, slowly, sitting back in the smooth-worn seat of the hard wooden chair, studying Irinarhov.

"That was unexpected," he said, quietly.

His hand crept up to rub his jaw, absently, as if it ached from a long-ago punch.

"Just then...you sounded exactly like my brother Ilarion."

He shook his head, astonished.

"Your words, the delivery, the emphasis...even the cadence of the speech."

Andrei paused.

"Ilya hated him, too."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: "Lasha."

Kassian frowned, lightly. He remembered what Liadov had told him about Ilarion, about the elder Isaev brother's particular lack of compassion. How he had shot a man in the back and then yawned at his dying confession.

He wondered how a man like Lasha could speak about love and indulgence, but then Kassian remembered that Liadov had also told him that Ilarion was a good brother.

Kassian drew in a breath, still thoughtful, thinking.

"He loves you for who you are," he said, finally. "Every part of you, sick or wholesome, flawed or not. He doesn't pick and choose. That's not what love is."

And he could believe it, that Lasha would feel that way. Kassian thought that despite whatever flaws the man had, Lasha loved his little brother.

Isaev had shown him an envelope once, marked from Petrograd, sent by Ilarion. Twice a week, Isaev had told him. Lasha wrote twice a week, like clockwork. Now that was love, to Kassian, to have someone so fresh on the mind that you wrote them just to share the everyday inconsequential things, the next best thing to having that person actually at your side.

"It seems like it," he said, finally, gazing down at Isaev. "Though I don't know Lasha. But I do know you."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: "Is that what it is," Andrei said, easing his hand over Kassian's thigh, the motion idle, almost negligent.

Skimming the flesh beside the part that ached for touch with a broad, caressing palm.

"You love me like a brother."

A smile spread over his lips, honeyed and dark.

"I can deal with that."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian snorted, once, and lightly, though his lips curved up.

"I never had a brother. I don't know about that. But love is love."

Isaev's touch made his loins pulse with need, and he drew in a slow breath. He let his eyes drift closed for a few moments, savoring the heat.

After a while, he opened his eyes. "I should put away my rifle," he murmured.

He hadn't even managed to get that far yet. Isaev was distracting.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: "If you like," said Andrei, watching his face. "I'm not going anywhere."

He knew that Irinarhov's sniper rituals were important to him, important to his peace of mind.

Isaev slid his hand away and leaned back, putting his hands behind his head.

"So what did you think of Viktor's little display?" he asked. "Make you want to switch up for a Dragunov?"

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian held Isaev's gaze a moment.

"No," he said, "there's only one gun I want."

His mouth quirked in the smallest of curves, but then he dropped his gaze, turning to the weapons locker so he could secure his rifle.

"It's a good rifle," he admitted as he worked. "The Mosin-Nagant doesn't have that kind of accuracy at that range. I couldn't have done that. But I also know that it doesn't matter."

He glanced over his shoulder at Isaev.

"The sniper with the highest kill count in history is a Finn. 542 kills, they say, and he did it all with a Mosin-Nagant with iron sights. No scope."

Kassian turned back, and finished securing his rifle. "Skill counts for more. I'm not concerned, comrade."

Swiftly, he secured his sidearm, and stripped off the rest of his gear.

He returned to Isaev then, and stepped in between his legs, bringing his hands up to Isaev's forearms, running his fingers down the inside edges, tracing lightly.

"What did you think of them? Viktor and Aryol?" he asked, quietly, finally bringing his hands down to rest against Isaev's ribcage.

He stroked Isaev's sides with his thumbs, unhurried, but not idly, and regarded him with open, silent interest.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Isaev closed his eyes and raised his face, basking into the idle touch like a lizard on a fencepost.

"...I think Viktor is a sick fuck," he said, with irony.

Andrei paused.

"The other. Your...whatever he is. I don't have much use for him."

He opened his eyes briefly as if to punctuate the statement.

"I liked him initially, well enough, but seeing him so sycophantic, so..."

Isaev made a face.

"So obviously under your Viktor's bitter thumb. I lost what respect I'd started with, comrade, when I saw how capricious his whims were. He was so excited about meeting a master sniper, a war hero- the fact that he's an orphan, and by all accounts the man looked like him, why, it seemed to give him a rare kind of hope that I found..."

Isaev sneered.

"...endearing," he ground out, cynism infusing the word in hindsight.

"He asked me to take him to you. Over Viktor's faint but audible protests. So I did. I thought 'here at last, is perhaps someone from Kasya's family- one of his own, and what would it be, if I could give him that'. It was worth a shot, comrade, even if you were angry at me for the ambush."

Andrei sighed, tipping his head forward and fixing Kassian with a solid gaze from beneath his hair.

"He certainly seemed blissful over it at first..." Isaev paused, trailing off, glowering. "But then, your Viktor gets it in his head that he needs to pander to the kid. Win his attention back. And just like that, Aryol falls for his diversion. Like he pulled a fucking coin from behind his ear."

Isaev shook his head.

"So there he is, not much younger than I am, is he? This Aryol looks like a man, but he acts like a child, like he never grew up. He's just met the man who might be his father, and Viktor acts up, and he starting fawning over that knife-faced prick like a lost little girl."

A snort and a slight shake of Isaev's shoulders, as if he were shaking free of the recollection.

"Both of them are nothing worth," he concluded, stonily. "In my eyes."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian's brows went up, taken aback, and the light touch on Isaev's ribcage stilled. He didn't take his hands away, though, but kept them there, resting quietly.

"All right," he said, slowly.

He hadn't expected such vehemence. Such condemnation, especially for what Kassian saw as mere youthful exuberance on Aryol's part.

He had less tolerance for Vitya, but at least he understood him. Viktor had a fragile ego and driving need to be the best. It hadn't surprised him that Vitya had needed to show off right then.

Kassian couldn't find it in him to be angry at Isaev, but he found Andrei's derision of Aryol strangely painful.

"I don't know what to say," he said, finally, but after a moment, resumed the gentle stroking of his thumbs.

He searched Isaev's eyes, his brow furrowed.

"Is it going to be a problem if I want to spend some time with Aryol, and get to know him?"

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Isaev laughed, surprised.

"Shto? You're not serious?"

But Irinarhov's gaze was solemn, questioning. His fingers quested too, their caress slightly hesitant, even as they continued to touch Isaev's waist.

"...you are serious. No, of course not, Kasya! Who do you think I am, to care if a man wants to know his own son? Hell, I think you should. Get to know him, shoot your guns off together. Do whatever it is a man does with his twenty year old disenfranchised son."

Isaev shook his head, smiling, raising an eyebrow.

"It's nothing to me- he's not my kid."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: After a moment, Kassian nodded.

"All right," he said, again, quietly.

He hesitated.

"I don't know what it is a man does with his twenty year old disenfranchised son. The fact he's with Vitya makes it...awkward."

To say the least. But it was his problem, not Isaev's.

"But...I'll figure it out, though."

He drew in a breath and brought a hand up from Isaev's side to the back of his neck, then leaned down to catch his lips in a kiss, long and deep and slow.

Kassian lingered, drawing comfort in the taste of Isaev's mouth and the soft friction of his tongue, savoring the contact.

Afterward, he slowly pulled away, but left his hand there, and rubbed his thumb against the back of Isaev's neck.

"Let's fuck," he said, softly. "Tell me what you want."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Isaev spread his thighs slowly, lazily, feeling the shift of lightweight wool against his skin as his boots slid outward on the composite, legs spraddling into idle repose.

He shrugged out of his field jacket, and let it fall behind the chair, then reached for the hem of his snug tel'nyashka, pulling it over his shoulders, flexing his stomach to draw it forward over his head

His hair bloomed out full and lush as he looked up and leaned back, eyeing Kassian from beneath the blond fall.

"Are you sure you want to fuck, Irinarhov? You don't want to talk more about...your...son?"

His hand reached out, languidly, cupping the sniper's hip, urging him closer.

"I don't have to like him," said Andrei, mildly, "but that doesn't mean you can't talk to me about it."

He massaged the firm flesh gently, moving his palm across Irinarhov's crotch, brazen but slow in his approach.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian relaxed into Isaev's touch, leaning close, bringing both hand up to dig his fingers into Isaev's thick hair.

"I want to fuck now," he murmured.

Touching Isaev like this was a taste of normalcy in a world that had abruptly changed on him in the span of a few days, and more radically, in a few hours. Less than an hour, really.

Kassian needed to ground himself in something he knew was real.

Isaev's hand on his crotch felt achingly good, and he leaned into it, flexing his hips slowly.

He paused after a few moments to take his hands away, pulling off his jacket and scarf, and then his tel'nik, tossing them aside.

Bare chested, bare waisted, body lean and hard, he looked down at Isaev, but then laid his hands over Isaev's broad shoulders. He massaged them slowly, digging his fingers into the iron-hard muscle.

"We can talk...later."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: "All right," murmured Isaev, with a rough smile. "Comrade."

His fingers trailed down the rise of Kasya's cock and he lifted his eyebrows slowly.

"No slouch down here, are you."

After a moment his other hand joined the first, and grasped the strap of Irinarhov's belt, working the buckle open with measured slowness.

"Let's see," he crooned, with a sly and upcast glance. "Where shall we go from here, comrade?"

He unfastened the black trousers and gently finessed them down to mid-thigh.

"Let's see if I can tell..."

Andrei pulled him forward, and Irinarhov obliged as much as he was able.

"...Where we are, and if the compass points North."

His breath was gentle on the thin cotton as he moved his warm mouth over the rigid bulge.

"What way do you want to go?" he asked, innocuously, raising his eyes as he kissed, openmouthed, across the sensitive mound.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian inhaled sharply through gritted teeth, and his hands clenched, fingers tightening against Isaev's skin.

Under the cotton, against Isaev's mouth, his cock throbbed with the wanting of it, to feel the press of Isaev's lips, then clench of his throat.

Kassian shifted forward, and brought one hand to the back of Isaev's neck, resting lightly. The other hand, he kept planted on the hard rise of muscle between Isaev's neck and shoulders.

He ached, and needed, his body wanting to translate its tension into kinetic energy, to burn off the swell of emotion that he felt that lurked under the surface.

Isaev had offered to let him talk about it, but Kassian always found that difficult. How to voice feelings he couldn't put a name to, and explain raw emotion.

His world had been far more simple, a day ago.

Kassian's fingers splayed upward, and tightened in the long hair at the back of Isaev's head.

"Just take me home," he whispered, roughly.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei exhaled, softly, hooking his thumbs into Irinarhov's shorts and shoving them carefully down past his loins, exposing the curved contour of his cock, hard and jutting up like an iron lever.

"Kiss my lips with your prick, comrade," he breathed, eyes lowered, fascinated by the object. "Come on," he coaxed, in a harsh whisper, "slide it in, slip me your flesh."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian let out a hiss.

He flexed his hips, pressing forward, brushing his cock against Isaev's waiting mouth, lightly battering Isaev's lips once, and then twice before he slid into the warm slickness.

"God," he said, quietly, shuddering at the intimacy of a lover's oral embrace, as close as a lingering kiss.

"I need this, Andrei," Kassian rasped.

His tongue loosened once Isaev was no longer able to use his for talking, less to make up for the conversation and more to voice his hunger unchallenged.

"Suck me hard, comrade. Make me feel it."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei's fingers curved into Kasya's buttocks, as his body curved into the task, pulling the sniper forward to sheathe him in his throat.

He let his lips work over the length, briefly, torridly, before drawing the heated shaft inside him once more.

Sucking Irinarhov off was erotic in a way that he couldn't define- something about how Kassian responded to him, like he was the sun, the source of all light and heat, the core and center of his universe on the head of pin.

It made Isaev strive- to stroke harder, more fiercely, more raw, to consume him like cold fire and bathe him like warm rain.

Holding, working, covering, adoring.

Slick slide of the shaft against his tongue, teeth inadvertently glancing the sensitive, soft glans, but only peripherally, and not enough to cause any pain.

Hard length and width forcing his lips unnaturally wide around its relentless intrusion.

Isaev closed his eyes, reaching blindly, finding what he sought by braille. Caressing Kasya's balls in one hand, harder than was strictly kind, in tandem with the savage sucking of his mouth on the sniper's rock-firm prick.

There was no speaking, not with a man's khui this deep in your rot, but his eyes sought Kassian's fleetingly, to gauge his reaction.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian's eyes were closed, head thrown back to expose his bared and pulsing throat. His expression was one of utter concentration and abandon, furrowed brow and parted lips yearning and unselfconscious, uninhibited in his response.

He rocked his hips, straining and arching, spurred by the relentless drive of Isaev's mouth and hands, and the enveloping heat of his throat.

Kassian needed this, and he needed it like this, rough, but not unkind, ardent, and consuming.

Only with a lover, could it be like this, he knew, more than just friction, more than just fucking. The press of Isaev's lips and tongue was passionate and loving.

Only with a comrade, could there be this understanding, the simple acceptance of need, the mutual gratification.

"Andrei," he breathed, voice low and blurred, and he felt himself shudder.

His hands tightened, and his head bent forward as he felt his loins thrum with pitching fervor. His hips bucked as orgasm took him abruptly, his essence shooting hard and deep past Isaev's lips and against his waiting throat.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Isaev swallowed the milk of his comrade's capitulation, unprotesting- if he was honest, relishing it more than a good Russian officer strictly should.

It was liquid musk, thick like honey and bittersweet, leaving a masculine tint on his lips like heady liquor.

He licked them, blinking slowly.

"That was quite a report," he said easily, with an insolent cough, sitting back, squeezing Irinarhov's buttock affectionately. "Think you'll be able to reload?"

He grinned.

"Or is that just for Dragunovs?"

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: It look Kassian a few moments to catch his breath and swallow, tossing his head back to left out a single, soft laugh.

"I have to reload manually. It takes longer," he said with gruff affection, opening his eyes to regard Isaev, gaze dark, half-lidded and hedonistic.

He drew in a breath, then, to steady himself so he could straighten. His shorts had joined his trousers, bunching at his knees, slouching toward his boots.

"You have an old-fashioned model on your hands, Isaev. A little outdated, but still reliable."

Kassian's brow went up.

"Or is it you that wanted to trade up for a Dragunov?"

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei snorted, amused.

"You mean your sour ex-lover? Or your adolescent son?"

He shook his head.

"No, not me, Irinarhov. You said it yourself..it's not the weapon, it's the method. I have no use for modern models."

Isaev sighed, leaning back, a smile tipping his lips.

"Want to take me to bed, sniper?"

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian's mouth twitched to the side.

"I'd like nothing better."

He divested himself of shorts, pants, and boots, kicking them aside, then stepped closer, reaching a hand under Isaev's chin and tilting up his jaw.

"You're good to me and you're good for me," he said, mouth still curved, though his gaze held steady.

"I'd die a thousand deaths before I failed you in an hour of danger," he murmured, softly.

After a moment, he shook his head, and let his hand fall, skimming it down Isaev's arm, catching his wrist, tugging it.

"Come on. I want you inside me."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei smiled, rising up at Irinarhov's behest, stretching slightly.

"Maybe I just want to hold you," he said, wry, but he knew his cock would stiffen without much effort if it came to that. "Haven't you had enough excitement for one day?"

He leaned back against the cold painted cinderblock of the interior wall, squeezing the heels of his officer boots, drawing them off slowly, first one, then the other.

"You know I'm chaste, above all else," he added, with a cynical smile, unbuckling; stripping off his jodhpurs and then his shorts.

Nude at last, he crossed the coolness of the still room, seizing the Captain's body and wrestling him down into the bottom bunk.

"You see? This is wholesome, comrade. Recreation that is manful, not sinful."

His voice was solemn and soviet, but his eyes lilted with glinting irony.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian snorted.

"Chaste is the first word I'd use to describe you," he said, with equal irony, but he settled, just the same, arranging himself comfortably against Isaev's body.

It was good like this, easy between them. Isaev was a source of strength for him, and Kassian felt immediately comfortable, regardless of the dislike Isaev seemed to hold for Aryol, which still troubled him.

At the same time, he knew he couldn't ask more of the man who already gave him everything. Experience told Kassian that perhaps things would change with time, though the idea of being a father still weighed heavily on his mind.

Kassian reached out to stroke his hand down Isaev's stomach.

"You don't talk about your father much," he said, quietly. "Just that one time, when you told me about the button."

He paused, and met Isaev's eyes. "Is it like Lasha? Do you love him and hate him?"

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei frowned, considering that.

"No," he said slowly. "It's not like that. Not at all."

It wasn't an uncomfortable question, just a nebulous one, and he let himself tick over it for long moments, finally pushing his lips outward pensively, and opening his mouth in an effort to explain his conclusions.

"You see, I rarely- if ever- think of Aleksandr. Ilarion always stood between us, somehow. My father was never closer to me than a clap on the back and an approving word. Lasha was always there, standing up straight and shielding me from his eyes- the perfect son soaking up the perfect sun, so it never fell on me."

Isaev frowned.

"Somehow, I think...he meant to do it. Lasha never does anything without purpose."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: "Why?"

Kassian thought of what he knew of Lasha, knowledge he'd gained from both Isaev and Liadov. He could see it too, that a crafty bastard like Ilarion would have everything planned out.

He frowned, thinking about this distant father, neither hated nor loved, and wondered if that was worse than merely being hated.

Kassian wondered for a moment, if Ilarion had done it to deliberately cast a shadow on his younger brother and ensure his place as their father's favorite. But Isaev seemed to bear no ill will, and Kassian returned to what Liadov had told him when he'd asked about the man that Lasha was.

He's a good brother, Liadov had said.

"It sounds like he was protecting you," Kassian mused. "Like Lasha was more of a father to you than Aleksandr."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei drew back, giving him a narrow-eyed smile.

"Why Kasya," he said, surprised. "You almost sound like you know him- my brother, whom I've scarcely mentioned."

He laughed quietly.

"No, but you're right, and it's true."

His hand toyed with Irinarhov's tousled black waves, slowly curling them in and around his broad fingers, his other hand easing over the sniper's lower back, lazy, but with less gallant intent.

"Lasha was all. He was everything. Father, brother, lover."

Andrei's eyes averted briefly.

"Iron mother, even," he said. "When I needed arms of that kind."

He snorted wryly.

"Though I generally preferred his arms in other capacities, comrade, I confess- to you alone."

He paused, absently.

"Maybe it wasn't sunshine after all. Maybe it was shadow."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: "Maybe," Kassian said, quietly.

He let his touch drift down to Isaev's thigh, and brushed the soft skin with his fingertips, idly, hesitating for a few moments.

"Liadov told me a little about Lasha," he said, finally. "He said he's a good brother."

Liadov had said more than that, but some of it was in confidence.

Kassian shifted, arching, backside rising, responsive under Isaev's fingers.

"That feels good, comrade," he murmured.

He understood, now, how Isaev could be unconcerned about the distance between a son and father. He'd had the benefit of a surrogate father in Lasha, and had no true lack of paternal attention in spite of Aleksandr's detachment.

"What's your father like, as a man? Maybe that's Lasha's reason."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Isaev didn't hesitate, or lily-gild.

"My father is an ice tsar. Like Ilarion. Able to love only his own. And even then..."

He paused.

"Even then, that love is not absolute. Lasha is...different. If only in that one, almost intangible way."

Andrei frowned.

"Ilarion's love is constant as a star, and stars are distant and cold to the eye. Unless you happen to know what it's like to live in the proximity of one."

He shifted, pulling Kasya against him more intimately, without thinking about it.

"I don't know if that makes sense."

He shook his head.

"I don't come from good men, comrade. They're bastards, born and bred. Brutal and polished. Miasniks with manners."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian raised his head so he could meet Isaev's gaze, eyes dark and somber.

"You know it doesn't matter to me, where you come from. Like it doesn't matter to you, what my father did. Both of us have stepped away from those things, and made our own path."

Ironically, he thought of Aryol, and found it strangely amusing that Aryol had followed exactly in his father's footsteps, without even knowing him.

"I don't want to be the kind of father a son would hate. I don't want to be distant, either."

He shrugged and shook his head.

"Maybe I'm thinking about it too much," he said, voice wryed with humor turned inward, but after a few moments, his expression settled.

Kassian regarded Isaev fondly.

"You're fortunate you had him. Ilarion, that is. In spite of everything that you might hate him for, as well."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: "That's just it, comrade..." Isaev said, quietly. "I don't hate him, even though I know I should, at least for being a heartless bastard, if not for anything more specific. I should disavow him on principal."

He laughed, soft, rueful.

"But I can't manage it. He's a ruthless prick with an iron fist, and I love him like meat loves salt."

Isaev looked at Kasya.

"That being said," he said, softly, "I don't suppose you have much to worry about, being the good man you are. Why would your son hate you?"

Then he frowned.

"Viktor," he said quietly, "is his Ilarion."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian tried to wrap his mind around that, and found he couldn't, save for the fact the more he thought about it, the more insidious and twisted it became.

His frown matched Isaev's.

"Viktor couldn't fuck me anymore, so he went and found my son, and taught him how to shoot? Even if he only saw the resemblance, I think he's sick, but I don't think I can be mad at him, either. I pity him instead."

He was concerned for Aryol as well, but he didn't voice it, knowing what Isaev thought.

After a moment, he shook his head.

"You know what's strange...when we saw them at the spring, I got the impression that Viktor and your Major Rys' were together."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei's eyes jerked open in mild incredulity, and he raised his head from where he'd been dragging his lips over Irinarhov's collarbone in a vague and languid kiss.

"You...what? You thought that Lynx was his..."

Isaev frowned.

"His...companion, in more than a platonic sense?"

The idea made him bewildered, but of course it was not impossible. Most men, especially Black Ops men, if rumor could be trusted-

But Rys'...with a man like that?

"What gave you that idea? What about them...?"

Isaev's tone turned even more astonished and demanding.

"And what about your little spawn? What is that? Clearly, he's fucking your offsping, and with the way the little prick sucked him off with his eyes, it looked like more than a lark. How does that fit in with Lynx?"

A sarcastic tilt hit Isaev's full mouth, inverting its generous proportions.

"Tell me, in your experience, is your Viktor the type to stray from cock and hearth?"

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: "He's not my Viktor," Kassian said, patiently, giving Isaev a pointed look.

He pressed his hand against Isaev's chest, rubbing his skin, drawing light, easing patterns.

Kassian frowned, thinking, giving the question the consideration Isaev demanded. He'd meant it almost as an idle observation, but Isaev's incredulity made him go back and try to understand why he'd said it.

Gut instinct. First impression. But Isaev clearly wanted something more solid.

"I don't think he'd be the type to stray," Kassian said, slowly. "But there was something about the way Lynx touched him...."

He trailed off, shrugging.

Kassian had read the way Lynx had put a hand on Vitya's shoulder as intimate, but then again, to him, most touch was. He did not touch comrades casually, or like to be touched casually in turn. Perhaps Lynx was merely the type of person who touched others readily and easily, and there was nothing more to it.

"It's probably nothing. Just an assumption."

After all, he'd completely missed the fact that Aryol and Viktor were lovers until Aryol had kissed Viktor impulsively.

"It doesn't matter anyway, who's fucking who. Except for you and me."

He lowered his head, then, and tongued Isaev's nipple, letting his tongue trace around the nub of flesh, teasing it to tightness.

"Don't you think?" he murmured against Isaev's skin.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei closed his eyes, body arching against Irinarhov's lips.

"Not when you're doing that," he murmured, thickly, falling into the simple hedonism of their naked embrace, here in the relative luxury of Kassian's private quarters.

It didn't really matter, what transpired between Rys' and Leshovik, or anyone else, for that matter.

No, not when his skin tingled and his cock ached and the oft quiet, solemn sniper was warm and alive against him, uncurling his inner persona in a way that only Isaev was entrusted to witness.

"You and me," said Isaev, his tone sultry. "Then who's fucking who?"

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian made a warm, fond noise against Isaev's chest.

His mouth strayed, trailing down, following the contours of Isaev's muscle, gathering salt with his tongue.

He loved the broadness and thickness of Isaev's chest, the power in his upper body, a physicality unlike Kassian's own. Isaev's size and strength excited him, and he loved the idea of being at the mercy of such a large man.

Kassian shifted down on their bunk, and brought his lips to Isaev's stomach.

"You're fucking me," he murmured, reaching for Isaev's cock.

He took careful hold, running his thumb along the underside, stroking with light fingertips, feeling the pulse of hardness and heat grow in his hand.

"Your cock. My ass."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei laughed, low and heavy, arousal beginning to darken his timbre.

"Yes sir," he thrummed, softly against Kassian's rough, tanned cheek. "I'll fuck you until you shine, Captain, sir."

Irinarhov's hand manipulated his prick with dextrous skill, and Andrei shivered, stiffening almost violently into the older man's palm.

He never minded topping. Andrei had found it suited him, to be the penetrator, to fuck, to possess and press his body into another man's.

"Missionary," he whispered.

Far from feeling standard, it always made Isaev feel almost obscenely intimate to take a man in that way.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: "All right," Kassian murmured, shivering.

The particular note in Isaev's voice struck him deep, in his most intimate places. It was the way they spoke to each other - honest, open, the way a man could only speak to another man when their naked flesh twined and pressed close, when there was little they did not already share.

Kassian pulled back slightly to grab the tin they kept stored between bunk and mattress.

They would have to get a new one, soon, he thought as he opened it, amused. It had originally been his, newly issued upon his arrival to Groznyj Grad. Three weeks, going on four now, had made short work of it.

He coated Isaev's prick liberally, turning it glistening and dark, slick and slippery. His hand slid easily up and down Isaev's length, and he spent a few moments doing just that, pumping him with long, gentle motions before he relented.

He wanted Isaev to come inside him, not in his hand.

Kassian pulled away then, and laid back on the opposite side of the bed, raising his legs, spreading them wide, his head bent at first demurely, eyes lowered.

After that spare, diffident moment, he looked up, lips curved softly, eyes dark, inviting Isaev with his gaze.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: "And you call me shameless," intoned Isaev, eyes fixed on this wanton display. "Fucking khokol."

He moved suddenly, curling upright without hesitation and prowling forward on his hands until he was where he needed to be.

Andrei's body arched over the sniper's, caging him neatly, thighs set at a wide and driving apex, palms beside Kassian's shoulders, bearing the weight of his chest.

His prick jutted rudely against the offered expanse, taunting the perimeter, before he captured it and guided it deliberately to Irinarhov's entrance, slick and eager, bristling like a bull at the gate.

Isaev leaned into it, and felt the yielding almost at once, the ease of parting Kasya's body now, conditioned as it was to his intrusion, when it had come to know and welcome him.

Then there was slick friction and a lover's enveloping clutch, making him exhale torridly. Helped by the lubricant, Andrei's cock was already halfway up inside the sniper's ass, and he only took a moment to breathe before increasing the bearing of his weight, wanting to be fully sheathed and flush before they began.

It was a ritual he observed unwittingly. Needing that first moment of pause, after a full penetration- as if to marvel at the circumstance before slowly succumbing to longing and the inevitable yearning for pleasure in motion.

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian let out his breath, relaxing as he exhaled, letting Isaev press deeper inside him, filling him with heat.

He had come to crave this, wanting this most intimate of touches, welcoming the iron-hard length of flesh deep, where he was most vulnerable. It excited him to feel like this, pried open, exposed, pinned by his lover's strength.

Kassian raised his arms to encircle Isaev's back, then let his hands trail down to Isaev's taut buttocks, his fingers digging into the solid muscle, pressing him closer, completing the perfect lock of their bodies, a joining that had come to feel so natural, it seemed like he'd always known it.

His hands skimmed up Isaev's back once more, coming to rest on the jutting planes of his shoulderblades.

"Feels good," he murmured. "I like you there."

Kassian arched his spine, tightening the pressure around Isaev's cock, the motion brief but encouraging. He wanted Isaev to rock against him, to move inside him and make him ache so hard his vision blurred. Isaev always struck like flint and raised sparks with every thrust.

"I don't know anything that feels better than this," he murmured, and brought his head up to nuzzle Isaev's neck, his lips and tongue pressing moisture into Isaev's skin.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: Andrei swiveled his hips gently, feeling the other man's contours from the inside out, exhaling into his hair, smelling him, knowing him.

Knowing him.

He didn't succumb to the same pounding lust that had gripped him at the hot spring, but surrendered instead to a sweet, low passion that thrummed deep beneath his breastplate, revolving his loins with sensual leisure, steeping in the slow, elliptical pleasure of making love to his comrade-in-arms.

Dipping his head, breathing low and soft, seeking Irinarhov's kiss.

"There is nothing better," he intoned in a hush. "Nothing like me in you."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian tilted his head, and grazed his lips across Isaev's mouth, pausing there, sharing breath.

His arms tightened around Isaev even as he rocked his hips, falling easily into the gentle, rhythmic lovemaking that brought them together as one. Their bodies knew this dance well and performed it effortlessly, and it seemed to Kassian to be a natural expression of emotion brought to life and choreographed.

After a few moments, he leaned into Isaev's kiss, returning it sweetly and sensuously, lingering open-mouthed, savoring his taste.

They kissed like that, achingly slow, like pouring honey, punctuating the rocking of their bodies, their rhythm building gently.

Kassian broke the seal of their mouths to draw in breath.

"Dasha," he whispered, against Isaev's lips, "I want for nothing. Only you. Nothing else matters."

His grip tightened on Isaev's back, and he kissed him again, more deeply now, inflamed by rising passion.

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: "Kasya," Andrei shuddered, at the clench and increasing response of the sniper's firmly muscled body, rising against his own like a hard and hungry tide.

He began to rock his hips more forcefully, feeling the build in his loins and his chest, a place he imagined the metaphorical heart might be, a little more central, and higher than the genuine article, which was pounding like a timpani against Irinarhov's chest.

"I'm going to come inside you," he managed, his voice rough and harsh, but soft and edged with breath. "Write my name all over your soul. God help me."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: Kassian's breath hitched, and he shuddered.

"God. Do it, Dasha. I'm yours already."

His grip tightened around Isaev, and his rocking grew more urgent, pitched with purpose now, intent and driving.

Kassian's cock was hard, seeping with wetness, every graze and strike against Isaev's belly feeling like the scape of flint against steel, poised on the brink of conflagration.

His fingers tightened around Isaev's back.

He closed his eyes, riding out Isaev's fevered pitch, feeling himself tremble with thrumming need, the pulse of his own orgasm swelling inside him, the crest of his own desire rising.

"Love like the poets write, Isaev," he breathed. "Body and soul."

[livejournal.com profile] andrei_isaev: The bastard.

He'd done that on purpose.

The words, evoking that unfinished epiphany on the mountain, under the eyes of nature-

And Kassian's former lover, don't forget him.

But Isaev didn't care about Viktor, as he worked his stiff, aching length deep inside Irinarhov's ass, those words resonating against his lips and into his mind.

Andrei knew he was coming.

"Like the poets," he avowed in return, meeting the sniper's dark eyes, helpless to lie or demur, bound by the stricture of Irinarhov's body. "So help me, Kasya. I love you. So help me...."

A shudder wracked him throughout.

"God."

[livejournal.com profile] capt_kasya: The words caught Kassian by surprise, hit him like a shot between the eyes, and his heart leapt in his chest, stole his breath.

In the next moment, Isaev was coming, bucking hard against Kassian, and the thrust of heat and muscle drove Kassian headlong into his own climax. He came hard, shot his issue against Isaev's belly, a thousand sons unborn.

He shook, tightening his arms around Isaev, holding him close, pressing his face against his broad, thewy shoulder.

Kassian laughed, because he couldn't help it, the notes low and rich and warm with affection.

He knew Isaev loved him; he'd seen it in his eyes, heard it in his voice, even when Isaev worked around it, circling the idea like a wary dog around a stranger, uncertain and cautious.

But he'd known it, nonetheless, and could have died happy even if he never once heard those words pass between Andrei Isaev's lips.

Actually hearing them, though, made his stomach flutter, and he felt years younger.

He couldn't stop the smile that pulled his lips wide and after a few moments, he stopped trying, though he ducked his head.

"God, Andrei. I love you too. You make me happy, you sick fuck."
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