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[personal profile] leshovik
I think sometimes I don't give Aryol enough credit.

Christ, who am I kidding. I know I don't.

I wasn't prepared for him to rip me a new asshole, though I guess I deserved it.

I also wasn't prepared for what happened after that.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: He heard Aryol come stomping back toward his bivouac, and looked up as he came through the flap.

Lynx was half out of his bedroll, the covers thrown back, and knee drawn in, prepared to rise. The yelling had broken out quickly enough, and stabilized. Alexei wasn't overly worried about that, unless it escalated. But when it had gone silent, all at once, that was when his brow had furrowed.

He'd been about to go and intervene between them when Aryol returned.

The young soldier's face was a mask of quiet triumph, and he looked older suddenly, as if the fight had put years on him.

Alexei looked at him, in silence.

"He took it well, I heard."

[livejournal.com profile] eyes_adrift: "I guess."

Aryol didn't really think so, actually, but he stepped around the bedroll and dropped his kit near the chair. He looked around for a place to put his rifle, unwilling to just set it on hard ground.

"Actually, not really," Aryol said, and walked back to Lynx's bedroll, still clothed, still holding his rifle.

He looked down and drew in a breath, then shrugged his shoulders. "I said some pretty bad things. But so did he."

Aryol dropped to a crouch, then knelt next to Lynx's bedroll.

"That was hard," he said quietly, meeting Lynx's gaze. "I think that was the hardest thing I've ever done."

Aryol shook his head. "Killing people is easier."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Lynx looked at him for a moment.

Then he sighed, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him forward.

He laid a kiss on Aryol's dusky brow, slow and resolute.

"We can't leave it like this, malchik."

He paused, offering the bedroll.

"Here," he said. "I kept it warm for you. Get in. Make yourself at home. Try to relax."

Lynx reached for his camp fatigues, and pulled on the faded sage trousers. The heavy duty cotton had worn soft and thin from use, and hung comfortably below his waist. He pulled on the matching short-sleeved shirt, but left it unbuttoned and open. It had closed over his chest once, twelve years ago in officers' college. He'd been big even then. Now he was colossal.

Rys was embroidered across the breast pocket, the only vestige of his past life he retained- and not even a telling one, as his real name had been Ryshkin, and his comrades had ripped out the other letters when they christened him 'lynx'

But he knew what it had said. It was something to hold on to, now, when none of them were anything but names and violent actions.

He ran his hands back over his hair, leaving his feet bare, and turned toward the tent flap.

[livejournal.com profile] eyes_adrift: Aryol watched silently as Lynx dressed, wanting to say something, though he couldn't. He felt like he'd done something wrong, and that Lynx was disappointed.

His eyes followed Lynx, but Aryol said nothing as he ducked out.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei paused, after a moment, and leaned back inside the tent. He'd been preoccupied, but the expression in Aryol's eyes belatedly registered to his mind. Chagrin, deflation.

It pricked at his conscience.

"I'm going to talk to Leshovik," he said. "There are some things he needs to hear, from me."

He smiled, slowly, reassuringly.

"Don't worry."

He could say it with utter conviction, and without doubt.

"It's going to be fine."

Lynx let the flap settle closed and sealed it carefully, mindfully, against the wind, before crossing the darkened cavern, heading toward Leshovik's tent where a single lamp glowed within, like a large and sullen firefly.

He hadn't meant to disguise his footfalls, but it was second nature after all this time.

When he brushed aside the bivouac flap and looked inside, Leshovik was unaware of his presence, sitting slackly on the hammock with his eyes lowered, probably exactly as Aryol had left him.
Alexei paused, frowning.

"Comrade," he said, quietly. "We should have a word, I think. Will you talk?"

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik flinched, heart abruptly hammering. His gaze flew up to see Lynx, of all people, standing at his tent flap.

He lurched out of the hammock like a drunkard, unsteady on his feet. Adrenaline shot through his body and made it shake.

Leshovik's lip curled as he struggled with re-energized, conflicting emotion. His jaw tightened and he met Lynx's quiet countenance with blazing eyes.

"Talk? Yeah, I'll talk," he said, his voice ragged and raw.

Leshovik clenched his hands into fists.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei's gaze fell on his hands, and he nodded.

"Go on," he said. "Throw a few jabs at me. I'll take them."

He paused, patiently, hand on the flap.

"Can I come in?"

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik frowned, feeling caught off-guard, like Lynx had managed to get in the first punch, before he even noticed.

"Fine," he spat. "Whatever. Come in."

He squared his shoulders and took in a hard breath, but he held his ground.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei ducked and entered the tent, bemused at the low clearance.

Leshovik stood near him, bristling. The anger around him was like a static charge.

Lynx regarded him with empathy, and eyes that turned down slightly at the corners like a Caesar's.

Other than that, he made no moves.

"You know what happened," he said.

It was somewhere between a statement an a question.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik's shoulders shook, and he had to force himself to hold Lynx's gaze.

"He told me," he said, flatly.

He felt vitriol at the back of his throat, and searing choler toward the man who had come to rub his nose in it.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Lynx nodded, sighing.

"He told you," he repeated.

He reached into his pocket, and looked up.

"Do you want a cigarette?"

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik looked at Lynx, incredulously.

Leshovik had smoked since he was a teen, but had to quit after he got into black ops. Eight years, he'd gone without - well, except for once or twice, but those really didn't count - and now, this fucking bastard had been carrying them around with him all along?

His lip curled. "I'd kill for one. But no. I don't want one."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: "I rarely do it," he said. "But sometimes I can't help it. I catch every ash. Pack out the butts."

Alexei looked down, amused at himself, but unsmiling.

"Have a whole memory bag of them at the end of a mission."

He held out the tin.

"Take one for later, if you don't want it now," he said, reasonably. "Sometimes you just need one."

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik's brows drew in sharply.

He stared at the tin, almost uncomprehending, feeling like he'd gotten his legs kicked out from underneath him.

He found himself reaching for a cigarette with a hand he couldn't keep from shaking, fumbling the stack with clumsy fingers until he finally caught one. He tucked it behind his ear.

Leshovik drew in a breath, and caught the bitter tang of tobacco.

"What do you want?" he asked, turning away, exposing his back to Lynx.

He walked back to his hammock and eased himself down.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei lowered himself to the floor, and settled into an easy repose, forearms resting on his knees.

"Vikha," he said, frowning.

He rubbed his hand over his seal-brown crop for a moment, then looked up.

"There's a difference between sorry and sorrowful," Alexei said, carefully. "And a difference between sorry and sympathy. And an even bigger difference between sympathy and empathy."

He paused, gazing at the outline of Leshovik's shoulders, tensed and tenuous.

"There's also a difference between being sorry for committing an act, and regretting an act."

He shook his head.

"I'm not sorry for what happened. But I regret it. I regret that it had to come down this way."

He stopped, and lit his cigarette, drawing in and closing his eyes.

"I watch you," he said, exhaling, eyes trained at the ceiling. "I watch you destroy that kid. Day in, day out. You treat your rifle with more reverence."

Leshovik had shifted, but Lynx didn't pause, staring at nothing, smoking quietly and continuing his thought.

"You beat his spirit down, then you seize him and throw him down and fuck him until he's moaning to god, then you wring him around your trigger finger and hang him out to dry. You leave him out in the snow to die of exposure, then you give him a drop of warmth, like vodka from your fingertip- just enough to revive him, and he latches onto it with both hands."

He snorted lightly.

"And why? Because you can."

Alexei's gaze returned to the hammock.

"You're damaged, Vikha. And you're going to pass on that inheritance by cock and word and fist."

His blue eyes were steady and uncompromising.

"I didn't do this to steal your lover. I did this because I see him dying in your grasp. He needed someone to show him what compassion is. For probably the first time in his life."
Lynx's gaze softened slightly, along with his tone.

"And I would have done the same thing to you," he said, quietly.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik sat silently as Lynx spoke, still save for the rise and fall of breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth, deep, slow, and controlled.

Every now and then he caught the taint of Lynx's cigarette on the air, and it lingered like an aftertaste in the back of his throat.

He remained silent even after Lynx finished speaking, for a while.

"You're right," he said, finally.

Leshovik took the cigarette from behind his ear and ran it under his nose, inhaling. The aroma went straight to his head, like coffee.

He toyed with it between his fingers, but didn't ask for a light, even though he no longer carried one.

"You were right, what you said about me a few days ago, and you're right now."

Leshovik spoke quietly, with even measure, voice distant, constrained.

"I destroy because I can, even when I think I don't want to."

He paused. "I think it's just my nature."

Leshovik shrugged, and looked across the bivouac at Lynx, his gaze hollow.

"I taught him how to hurt. I taught him that. He didn't know before. You should have known him when I met him. Fucking ray of sunshine, comrade. I couldn't believe it. Never an unkind word, even to those who did him wrong."

He looked down, having to stop, rubbing at one eye for a moment, then the other.

"That's changed. He knows now. And I taught him well."

Leshovik cleared his throat.

"I know you didn't steal my lover. You saved him, comrade, and for that, I thank you."

His voice was not so controlled now, but he went on anyway, speaking with irregular hitches and a wavering tone.

"You have my blessing, comrade. Take him. Keep him. Show him compassion. Teach him love, and undo the damage I've done, if you can. Just - "

Leshovik broke off, and fell into a hard-fought silence for several long moments.

"Just promise me, that you'll watch out for him. That's all I ask."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei studied him for a long time.

"Are you saying you're past saving?"

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik looked down at the cigarette in his hands, then nodded.

"Will you make it quick?" he asked, quietly.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Lynx's head raised, and he blinked.

"I'm not going to snuff you," he said. "Is that what you think? That I'd kill you, a comrade? A colleague? Over a personality flaw?"

Alexei shook his head, and took another drag.

"You haven't done anything to deserve that."

He sighed.

"I wish there was a wall. One fucking wall to lean against. That's the one thing I hate about bivouacking."

He raised his eyes to Leshovik once more.

"Do you want a light?"

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: "No," Leshovik said.

He rolled the cigarette back and forth between his fingers. He'd blunted the edges of the cigarette by handling it so much, but it would still smoke the same.

"I thought you understood. I'm never going to change, and tomorrow..."

Leshovik raised his head, lips tugging into a wry and bitter smile.

"...and tomorrow, I might not feel this charitable anymore."

He stood up abruptly, walking over to Lynx, holding the cigarette towards him.

"Actually, on second thought, I will take that light, comrade," he said, and his lip curled, faintly.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei flicked the wheel of his battered tin lighter and offered the flame.

"Are you threatening me, Leshovik?" he asked, softly. A neutral question, a slight raise of his brows.

He had more that he wanted to say, but let the sniper come to his level.

"Let's have a smoke, like good comrades."

Alexei inhaled slowly and held it, feeling the prick of nicotine hit his system.

"I always liked you," he added, with a slightly wistful smile, a lilt of his lips.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik's hand was steady as he held his cigarette to the flame, letting the tip flare and catch.

He brought it immediately to his lips and took a long, slow drag, holding it in, then letting it stream out his nostrils.

"Oh, god, that's good," he said, breathlessly, tipping his head back to luxuriate in the rush of pleasure he felt.

"Like going a long time without sex then getting some," he murmured.

Leshovik shook his head. "Makes me forget why I quit."

He looked around then, and saw that Lynx was sitting on the hard and cold stone floor, shrugging after a moment, and sitting too, choosing a spot across from Lynx, not close, but not far.

"You liked me? That's funny. I disliked you." His mouth twitched, lips curving, full and generous with irony. "But I'm just like that. Nothing personal."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei smiled, eyes lowered, for a moment.

"And I fucked your lover," he said. "Nothing personal."

He studied Leshovik, letting his cigarette rest for a moment, as blue smoke crayoned and swirled around them.

"He loves you," he said.

Lynx rubbed his jaw with the back of his hand, and tried to ignore the part of him that still twinged with the aftershocks of recent bliss.

"He doesn't know me. Doesn't feel anything for me but lust and respect."

He put the cigarette to his lips, pausing.

"You have nothing to be jealous of, Vikha."

He sighed as he exhaled.

"He just needs time. Time and space. Can you give him that?"

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik laughed, and pointed the glowing tip of his cigarette at Lynx.

"Don't try to squirm out of your responsibility now. I gave him to you, Lynx. He gave himself. He's yours now, and I don't want him anymore."

He shook his head. "I can't trust myself. If you're not going to make this easy on me and snuff me, you at least have to respect that."

"And besides..."

Leshovik trailed off, eyes closing. He breathed in and out, feeling the nicotine do its work and the hard line of his shoulders slowly relax.

"...you and I both know that love will grow in that sunny little heart of his, like a potted flower on the windowsill. It won't take long. Not for him."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: "You don't want him," said Lynx, shaking his head. "Because he betrayed you? Or because you can't pretend he's something he's not?"

Alexei paused.

"Or is it...someone?"

He stared hard at Leshovik, at the knife-slashed cheekbones and sullenly smiling mouth.

"You don't love him?"

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: "Fuck! I'm trying to do the fucking right thing here!" Leshovik snapped, glaring.

He took in a long, reckless drag from his cigarette and blew out smoke just as quickly, wasting it.

Leshovik scowled at Lynx. "I'm having a fucking moment of clarity, all right? I'm telling you, you're better for him than I am. I'm telling you, I want you to take care of him, because I know you can. Because I know you'll never hurt him, and you'll guide him through life and help him...to be great. And I don't mean a great sniper. I mean a great man. Because I think he has that in him, if he wants it, and if not..."

He gestured with the cigarette, stabbing it in the air toward Lynx, ash crumbling off the tip.

"...and if not, and he just wants to live a quiet, happy life, that's good too. But my point, comrade, is this is not about me. This is about him."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: "All right. He stays with me. I don't mind," Lynx said mildly. "It doesn't mean he'll stop being in love with you, Vikha. And you bear some responsibility for that. You made him love you, the same way you made him hurt. But ultimately that doesn't matter."

His blue eyes raised.

"He'll have some scars, is all." He paused, shrugging. "We all do."

He opened his cigarette case and opened it, setting it between them.

"Split them," he said. "Take half. I need a smoking comrade."

He leaned forward, crushing his spent cigarette out on the floor in the no-man's land between them.

"So that's settled. Enough about him. Let's talk about you."

He raised his eyes.

"Leshovik. Or the man who calls himself the same."

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: "Don't protest so much on my account, now," Leshovik muttered, eyeing Lynx for a few moments before he leaned forward to take the cigarettes.

There was an uneven number, he saw, but grudgingly left Lynx the greater amount.

"I shouldn't take these. I used to smoke them like they were nothing. A full tin in a day, and then had to suffer with the wanting of them until I got more, then I'd just smoke them all right away again. Never learned."

Shrugging, he piled his cigarettes neatly on the ground next to him. He had no pockets or anywhere convenient to store them that was in reach.

It was damn uncomfortable, sitting on the ground in his shorts. Leshovik leaned back to pull the blankets off the hammock, dragging them close.

They'd kept several, enough for both of them. Leshovik scowled and separated a couple, tossing them in Lynx's direction without comment.

He took another, folding it until it could serve as a pad thick enough to sit on, and wrapped a second around his shoulders.

"What about me?" he asked, scowling again. "It seems like you have it all figured out, comrade."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: "I think you need something he can't give you," said Lynx.

He took the blankets wordlessly and wrapped one around his shoulders, regarding Leshovik with a steady,, unwavering gaze.

"Or that you won't let him give you."

Alexei reached for another cigarette.

"I have a lot of tobacco, and plenty of papers. And a lot of time."

He raised an eyebrow.

"I won a bet, you know. Before this happened."

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik continued to smoke the cigarette he had, draining it to the butt before he finally ground it out.

He eyed the rest of his pile but didn't move to take another, though he rubbed his fingers together as if he had one in his hand.

Leshovik rolled his eyes.

"Bah. What bet? What are you talking about?"

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Lynx shrugged, vaulting his eyebrows affably.

"I shouldn't tell you," he said, laying down and reclining on his side, supporting his head on one hand, and idly smoking with the other.

"A little chess wager I made with your...with Aryol. It's voided now, anyway."

He smiled.

"Kind of a shame. It might have done you good."

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik's lip curled into a sneer.

"Oh, I heard about your 'chess games,' Lynx. Just because I gave him to you doesn't mean I want to hear the details about what you do together."

He snatched up another cigarette from his pile and thrust it in Lynx's direction.

"Give me a light, and stop rubbing salt in my wounds, self-inflicted as they might be, you bastard prick."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Lynx raised one eyebrow and grinned, putting Leshovik's cigarette in his mouth and flicking the lighter.

"...well..." he said, tilting the flame to the tip, "The wager wasn't about him. Or at least...not the last one."

He paused, inhaling slowly, eyes riveted on the end of the cigarette until it glowed red and cherried in the semidarkness.

He took a slight drag and held it out, so that Leshovik had to lean in close to retrieve it.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik scowled, fiercely. His shoulders twitched, once, before he leaned close enough to pluck cigarette from Lynx's hand.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

He took a long, deliberate drag, closing his eyes, ignoring Lynx. He savored the smoke as long as he could before he let it stream out again.

Leshovik opened his eyes and jabbed the cigarette in Lynx's direction.

"If you're trying to insinuate something, I..."

His face suddenly contorted, and his gaze flew back to Lynx's. "What are you trying to insin - "

He shook himself. "No. Never mind. I don't want to hear about whatever sick games you put him up to. Christ, he's twenty years old."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: "It had nothing to do with him," Lynx said, reaching out swiftly, silently, for the hand that held the cigarette. Taking hold of Leshovik's wrist- a molded thing, almost too refined for his mien.

He twisted his own wrist gently, with slight but concentrated intent, pulling the sniper off his balance so that he fell forward, catching himself with his free hand.

Instinctive, automatic. His reflexes were good, flawless.

His scowl had been knocked from his face briefly, and he no longer looked hardened, in that moment, as if all the jade had fallen from him.

Alexei took a drag from his cigarette, and leaned in close.

"It was about me. And you."

His manner was intimate, familiar. Almost conversational.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik scowled.

"Fuck! You can't just - "

He broke off, eyeing Lynx, who leaned close.

Lynx smelled of cigarettes, primarily, but Leshovik thought he also caught another scent, headier and muskier, damp like sweat, but also somehow sweeter.

He licked his lips. Must be his imagination.

Slowly, he eased back. "Fucking prick. Don't..."

He hesitated for a few moments, jaw working.

"What about you and me?" he demanded, finally. "I have the fucking right to know."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei's gaze was leveled, bright and intense, eyes slightly more open, as he caught Leshovik's eyes and held them.

The sniper's gaze was wary, but hungry.

Such a deep, dark blue, his eyes, thought Lynx. Almost not worthy of a White Russian.

His voice was pitched somewhere between a whisper and a hiss as he answered Leshovik, as if telling him a secret.

"It was a wager for the best of five matches. If I won, I was going to top you...whether you wanted it or not."

He was close enough to kill.

Inches from the sniper's conflicted face.

Reaching into the slight space between them, he took the cigarette from Leshovik's momentarily slack lips, and took a drag, holding it and holding his eyes as he leaned in.

Touching parted lips to Leshovik's, which were parted in incredulity, and exhaling past them, as smoke spilled slightly from the corners of his mouth.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik's lip trembled as he drew in the raw smoke, eyes fluttering shut.

Reflexively. Because of the smoke.

He forced them open to look at Lynx again, who was poised like a predator at the apex of the food chain, confident, unconcerned by lesser predators.

Leshovik's breath went ragged, but his lip curled.

"What makes you think I wouldn't want - "

He faltered for a moment, scowling furiously, then he steeled his jaw.

"What makes you think I would want...that?" Leshovik growled.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei shook his head, amused, spilling the rest of the smoke from smiling lips.

"Didn't you listen to me?"

He shrugged.

"...What makes you think I care if you want it or not?'

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik's breath hitched.

His shoulders shook like drops of blood clinging to the ceiling, quivering, about to succumb to gravity.

He tried to say something but found his voice had left him, and the bivouac seemed to close in.


He swallowed.

Leshovik stared at Lynx, eyes wide and burnished like beryl, pupils blown.

"I'm not going to...put up with...you can't..." he muttered, voice thready, almost delirious.


He realized that he had been leaning forward incrementally, and somehow wasn't stopping.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei smiled gently.

"Oh, but I can," he said, reaching out, his broad hand curving around the back of the sniper's tensed neck and toying with the short, soft forest at the base of his skull. "And I think I will. A bet is a bet, after all. It's only fair."

His other arm curled around Leshovik's tapered torso and drew him in with a sudden, rough motion.

The sniper's eyes were snapping, hot with outrage...or?

Leshovik looked down suddenly, his expression one of fury and betrayal.

Alexei followed his eyes down, and saw what he'd seen.

The sniper's cock jutted up between them, hard as a pillar of basalt.

"You couldn't stop me if you wanted to," he said, softly. "So it's ok, Leshava. Really."

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik let out a hissed breath.

Leshovik grasped onto Lynx's arms, but it was like trying to gain purchase on bare rock. Lynx held him fast, and with little effort.

"Christ. Fucking...bastard cocksucker prick," he whispered, body shaking. "Don't...tell me it's...okay."

The friction of Lynx's embrace only made his cock throb harder, and he gritted his teeth.

"What are you going to do?" he breathed, "...exactly?"

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: "Anything I think you need," said Alexei, quietly, taking Leshovik's cigarette and grinding it out between his fingers.

He set it aside.

"Save that for afterward," he said, slowly overpowering the other man, and pinning him onto the floor.

Kissing him, gently. Mouth, a bare graze. Jaw, a glance. Throat, lips and tongue against the sweet throb of lifeblood and pulse.

Grinding his loins down, his own hard cock flush against the sniper's, only the thing material of his worn fatigues and Leshovik's shorts between them.

Returning to his face, looking into his eyes.

Seeing the fear there. The desire.

Compassion flooded Lynx, arousing him further.

He lunged to crush his mouth against Leshovik's, kissing him with sweet brutality.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik felt something in him crumble.

He wanted to spit curses into the man's mouth but he found himself responding to his kiss instead, lips both fierce and desperate.

Lynx tasted like cigarettes and lust. Leshovik groaned against his mouth, arching upward like a drowning man trying to break the surface and draw in a breath.

Leshovik hadn't truly respected Lynx's strength until now, until he was trapped between unyeilding rock and unmovable man.

His own body felt delicate in comparison. Fragile, save for his honed, vicious mouth and his urgent cock.

They were the only weapons he had. He used them, mouth pressing, hips grinding, while the rest of his body trembled.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei pulled back, watching the sniper fight to breathe, as Lynx's hands grasped the low neck of Leshovik's tank shirt, and ripped the fabric down his chest, tearing it away from his body.

"You've got quite a good physique, Leshava moyo," he murmured. "Almost a shame to waste it lying in wait."

He palmed Leshovik's cock through the scant fabric of his pants, rolling hard it against his hand.

"Tell me something," Lynx asked, softly, as he worked Leshovik's prick. The drab fabric was beginning to show telltale spots of moisture, and Alexei's tongue crossed his lips in anticipation.

"...How long has it been seen you've been fucked, Longshot? I mean really fucked. Pummeled. Battered."

His other hand caressed the muscles of the sniper's chest, slow and rhythmic. Lulling, yet sensual.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik shuddered, jaw clenched and sullen, though his scowl broke every time he drew in a gasp of breath.

"Eight years," he bit out, squeezing his eyes shut.

He still remembered that night, vividly. His last night in Hungary, which he had thought he was going to spend alone, but instead...

"Christ," he breathed.

Lynx's callused fingertips rubbed into his skin, and Leshovik shivered at the heavy weight of the other man's hand.

He remembered, then, what Aryol had said about Lynx, and what he had that Leshovik didn't.

He shuddered.

"Don't you fucking hold back, you prick," he snarled. "Fucking do it right."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: "Such things you say," Lynx whispered, amused.

He eased Leshovik's shorts down, eased his cock out from beneath the prison of cotton.

"Eight years is a long time," Alexei said, shaking his head. "Too long."

The shaft of Leshovik's prick was rigid and hot against his palm, and he caressed it, lightly, working the foreskin, running his strong thumb up the underside of the glans and swirling it over the sensitive head, toying with the beaded fluid that glistened there.

"When I saw you," Lynx intoned, soothingly, "I knew you were a killer. It's not easy for us. No one knows, do they? No one understands...that only another killer can know you, can touch you. Make you feel. Make you tremble at the gates."

He leaned in, brushing his lips down Leshovik's stomach, and nestling his mouth into the hollow of his groin, at the juncture where thigh met body, and the netherhair was fierce and almost not-blond.

His hand continued to massage the sniper's prick, slowly, excruciatingly steady.

Leshovik's scent was rougher, more masculine and sharp than Aryol's had been. It pleased Alexei's senses, brought him into carnal focus.

He was of a mind to rut Leshivik, hard and ruthless, yet something of the man's wounded eyes when he'd admitted his flaws drew an odd tenderness to Lynx's touch, even as he manhandled the sniper's cock.

"I'm a killer, Leshava. Don't you ever doubt that," he whispered, kissing the thatch gently, feeling the soft, springing press against his lips. "I'll make you remember."

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik's eyes widened.

He stared down at Lynx, who caressed his skin with words about killing and death, truths that Leshovik knew as intimately as the stock of his rifle, but had never heard articulated.

Leshovik's voice caught, half indrawn breath, half sob, and he could only nod mutely, even though Lynx wasn't looking at him.

He reached out with a tentative, shaking hand and laid it against Lynx's head, brushing over the short hair, tracing the contours of his scalp, the shape of the skull underneath, stopping at the back of Lynx's head.

His fingertips traced over the last hard ridge and lingered at the small, soft area underneath.

He marveled, for a moment, as he realized how small it truly was, even this close.

Leshovik laid his head back and stared up at the top of the bivouac, unseeing, hard tremors wracking his body, breath catching in gasps.

He shuddered as Lynx worked him, no longer fighting his body's response.

His cock throbbed, aching in the palm of a killer, the way it should be.

Leshovik swallowed.

"I know you will," he whispered, and his fingers trembled against the back of Lynx's skull.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Leshovik's resistance ceased like abruptly, like a hurricane eye, and Alexei made a soft, senseless cosseting noise as he drew back, running his hands down the sniper's hard and shuddering body.

They came to rest on the cut of his hips, and Lynx held them possessively, eyeing Leshovik's face with somnolent calm.

"You've had January inside you too long, Leshava," he said softly. "A killer should be more alive than anyone. A killer should know what it is to take life, and not just on the battlefield."

Alexei urged the sniper to rise up with inexorable arms, pulling him onto his knees, drawing Leshovik forward to straddle his waist. He looked feverish and wanting, and it made Lynx's blood steep in the lowest carnal valleys of his self.

He moved his lips along the sculpted face, closing his eyes and learning the topography of the other assassin's deadly features by braille.

"I'm going to suck your cock, Longshot," he whispered. "Suck it hard, and make you feel again."

Slowly, Lynx let himself ease down, lying back on the rough blankets, pulling Leshovik forward over him.

"Hands and knees. At my mercy," he breathed. "Straddle my face."

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik went, unresisting, almost uncomprehending.

He felt raw with wounds he didn't know he'd taken, like he'd been bleeding out all this time and only just realized he felt light-headed, almost too late.

Or maybe it was, already.

He moved over Lynx's body, at his command, with slow and careful motions, slipping his legs over broad shoulders, balancing his weight on palms and knees, poising himself as if he were the aggressor in their equation.

But he knew, even more keenly now than when Lynx's weight had rested atop him, that he was far from it.

Leshovik paused to glance between leg and arcing cock, meeting Lynx's gaze.

The bare-handed killer regarded him calmly, with sage and steady blue eyes that seemed to hold some perfect knowledge, not just of men's bodies, but also of their minds.

Leshovik trembled, but then nodded once before he closed his eyes.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei was moved.

Touched, somehow, by Leshovik's broken resignation, and his complicity in his own unmaking.

He'd known men like Leshovik. He could imagine him, as he'd lived, and progressed.

He'd been like white-hot steel all his days, searing everyone who touched him, obliterating all else. Untouchable, and seemingly invulnerable. But even hot metal would crack when confronted with cool water.

"You've been walking dead, Vikha," he sighed, breathing in the scent of Leshovik's manhood, ferocious but spiked sweetly with subtle notes of surrender. "Let me lick your wounds."

Alexei's hand traced the seam of the sniper's testes, gently stroking his index finger lightly along the cleft of his ass. Over the crepe-fine skin of his orifice, where he paused and applied a slight pressure, as he tightened his stomach and lunged upward, taking Leshovik deep into his throat.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik jerked, gasping as Lynx consumed him with sudden, perfect violence.

He had never seen the man kill, but he imagined it would be much the same, a transition from idling stasis to intemperate motion in the space between heartbeats.

Lynx could make a man suffer if he wanted, or he could make it quick, and as painless as a bullet.

Now, Lynx's mouth felt as inexorable as death around him, cruel yet compassionate, adamant and absolving, wet and hot and binding.

His body shook, and Leshovik bent his head to watch, shuddering, finding the sight of Lynx's mouth around his deep-throated cock powerfully erotic.

Their gazes met, and Lynx held his with purpose, communicating some silent message that struck his core and lodged as deeply as his words.

Leshovik shuddered, and felt something in him crumble against the intensity of Lynx's eyes, but he only swallowed, and did not look away.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: In spite of himself, Alexei was rapt, and couldn't move his eyes away. He was surprised and aroused to find Leshovik watching him so unabashedly, the eyes of a raptor humanized once more, but with no less acuity.

He planted his palms above him, on either side of Leshovik's loins, and began to raise and lower the sniper's hips, slowly, with isometric control.

Lynx's arms flexed, and his throat worked, as Leshovik's cock slid in and out like a piston.

His eyes stayed locked to the other man's, even as he manhandled his weight. Even as he swallowed his length.

It was getting him unseasonably hard, the eye contact, the intensity of the chemistry.

More than he'd even anticipated. Something about the easing the invisible weals of damage that had been branded on Leshovik's caustic and callused soul.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: They moved in a slow but building rhythm, he and Lynx, gazes meshed as intimately as their bodies.

Lynx's eyes were a heatshimmer of blue in his tanned face, as potent as pure water to a man dying of thirst.

Leshovik, for his part, could not look away, but as Lynx continued to hold his eyes as well, the need inside him quickened.

He felt compelled by the knowledge that he'd offered this man his life, and though Lynx had refused to take it, there were some things that could not be reversed.

The flex and thrust of his hips deepened, driven by both of them now, Leshovik's own building need and Lynx's guiding touch.

Heat rose in his loins like dusky smoke, curling, heady and potent.

His breath roughened, but otherwise he moved in silence, and wordless communication.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei broke with their cadence, pausing the thrust of Leshovik's hips with his hands, keeping their gaze locked.

"Leshava," he breathed, with sudden and barely suppressed need. "I need to fuck you."
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November 2009


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