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[personal profile] leshovik
Funny how things work out sometimes. I never would have called this one.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik shuddered out a breath, but he swallowed, and gave the slightest of nods.

"Then fuck me," he whispered back, unable to look away.

His body quivered in anticipation and he raised his torso slowly, resting his weight on his knees and bringing his hands to his hips, resting them over Lynx's.

"Tell me how you want me," he murmured, still holding Lynx's bright gaze.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei sat up swiftly, and pulled Leshovik down into his arms, looking into his face, searching it with roving, conflicted eyes.

Hesitating. Then, tentatively, cupping it in his hand, stroking the high cut of his cheek with the pad of his thumb.

Don't, Alyosha. Not like that.

Kissing him.

Like that.

Kissing him, as he rose to his feet, bearing the man's weight with him.

It was only a few steps to the hammock.

He laid Leshovik down, on his back across the width of the sling. Unorthodox, but they weren't sleeping, after all.

"Where do you keep your..." he began, softly, trailing off tactfully.

Looking down at the sniper, how attractively lean and predatory he was. How hungry. Stripped and ruthless. Nothing was wasted in the making of him.

Alexei raised an eyebrow.

"You...surely...use something...for Aryol...when you?"

Speaking such normal, awkward words seemed almost surreal.

His hand eased onto Leshovik's thigh, stroking the inner skin absently.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: His lips still tingled. Leshovik pressed them together briefly before he answered.

"Of course I do. With my kit. There, just under the hammock."

He tilted his chin.

"In arm's reach."

Leshovik felt strangely at ease, lying back like this, naked and open, thighs parted without shame, as he waited for Lynx to fuck him.

He raised one arm over his head and took hold of the hammock's edge behind him, then reached the other hand down and palmed his hardened, moistened cock.

"Finding it?" he murmured.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Lynx nodded.

The military standard. The tin tube of petroleum felt familiar in his hand.

Alexei returned to his post in front of the sniper, slowly unfastening the buttons of his faded fatigues with his free hand.

He looked at Leshovik, his eyes meeting the sniper's in a heated lock.

"Take it out," he commanded, quietly.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik held still a moment, burning the air between them with an unyielding gaze, but then he unhooked his hand from the hammock and let go of his own cock.

He leaned forward slightly to bring his hands to Lynx's pants, letting his fingers slip inside and close around Lynx's heavy length.

He guided it, carefully, out from the clothing's folds.

Leshovik held Lynx's eyes for another beat, then deliberately lowered his gaze.

"He wasn't kidding," he murmured.

Lynx had one of the biggest cocks Leshovik had ever seen, so long and thick it was a wonder it could stand up.

It was significantly larger than Leshovik had ever had inside him.

Leshovik drew his eyes back up to Lynx's, smiling faintly.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: "He-?"

Lynx was too intent on watching the sniper's lean hands deal with his cock to register the inference right off, but then he realized what Leshovik was saying.

Alexei lowered his eyes.

"Any less would look ridiculous," he said, in a careless voice. "It's just scale, comrade."

The lube was cool and made him exhale as he slathered it liberally over the expanse of his cock.

He'd learned the hard way to err on the side of overkill.

Somehow he felt strangely liberated- for the first time, the dynamic between himself and Leshovik felt truly companionable.

...Maybe a little more than companionable. But again, there was something to be said for overkill.

His hands thrust underneath Leshovik's buttocks roughly and he drew the hammock forward, swinging him into position.

The hammock's height was perfectly aligned. Lynx had only to lean in.

He grasped his prick in his fist, guiding the glans to Leshovik's ass, pressing in with a moment of ruthless weight.

The head shoved past the futile resistance of the muscle, and sank inside.

He paused, raising his bright eyes to Leshovik's dark gaze.

"You want more, Leshka? Or do you want a moment?"

Aryol had needed a second to adjust, though he didn't say it.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik let out an indrawn breath.

"More," he said, evenly.

The muscles in his jaw were slightly tense, but he smirked thinly.

"That's the point of this, isn't it?"

He raised an arched brow.

Leshovik brought his hand over his head again and hooked it around the hammock's edge once more, gripping it to give himself the leverage to spread his legs wider and allow Lynx deeper access.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei's eyes flared slightly as he watched the sniper's insouciant display.

"The point of this," he said softly, "is to knock that bullshit smirk off your pretty face."

He didn't hesitate any more, but thrust into the grip of his own hands, driving deep into the tight clutch of Leshovik's body with an unrestrained grunt.

It felt like confession and crucifixion, both- he on his knees and Leshovik spread and exposed and impaled before him, sweat on his brow, and on Leshovik's face, the beatific expression of a martyred saint, eyes struck heavenward.

His cock and broad hips lay flush against Leshovik, splaying him obscenely.

Alexei felt a surge of primal lust, and he caught it, caged it quickly before it owned him.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik grunted, jaw tightening, but then he purposefully rearranged his expression into a faintly smug smile.

"You're welcome to try," he murmured with low amusement, but then had to let out another breath.

Lynx filled him with such a remarkable weight and girth that Leshovik found it somewhat difficult to move, much the less to imagine the man pounding him rhythmically, but he shifted forward, then back, slightly, to help instigate motion.

He sought Lynx's gaze then, and compelled him with his eyes.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Lynx paused, then a smile crept over his lips, slow as honey.

"Keep it," he said. "It suits you."

He caught the cadence of Leshovik's hips and expounded on the motion, thrusting against and into him, drawing all the way out and shoving back in with a slow and forceful twist of his loins.

Then he began to fuck Leshovik, hard, like he'd promised, eyes riveted on the sniper's face, ears full of the cacophony of rain that still fell in torrents on the mountains outside.

Leaning forward, hands cupping Leshovik's buttocks, pulling him onto his rigid prick again and again. Feeling the pleasurable shudder of his own thighs.

"How's that?" he whispered, pausing in his motion, falling forward to cage Leshovik with his body like a spider, grabbing the edge of the hammock, hands closing over the sniper's.

Settling the whole weight of his body behind the penetration of his cock.

He was sheathed in Leshovik's ass to the hilt, and the sniper had the balls to smile about it.

That was kind of alluring.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik's breath rose and fell hard underneath the heavy press of Lynx's chest, but his lip curled upward.

"Not bad," he murmured.

Their faces were close. Lynx's eyes were gleaming, bright and flush with pleasure.

For a moment, Leshovik's gaze wavered, dropping slightly to brush across Lynx's parted mouth.

Leshovik tilted his face, craning his head up to bring their mouths together. He hesitated at the first glancing scrape of contact, then leaned in more slowly.

He kissed Lynx the way Lynx had kissed him, minutes earlier, tender and exploring, not quite the way you kissed a man who was only a comrade.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei shuddered.

Only with Zhenya did he ever feel such reciprocal need. Something was wrong, and a little too right, here, fucking tight and close, slung across Leshovik's spartan bivouac.

The slow and shifting penetration of tongues played counterpoint to the invasion of his cock, and Alexei was reminded of the uroboros, endlessly swallowing itself, rapt and engaged, needing nothing else.

A circuit completed.

He thought of two who had eschewed the life of ordinary men, and lived out of shadows, drifting still waters in a silent boat, bringing death and dipping their fingers in a river of blood. Living alone and isolated, even in the company of wolves.

But still waters ran deep.

The intimacy of holding Leshovik's gaze as they committed the sex act was raw and nearly unbearable, but Alexei couldn't break away. So he suffered, and saw anew.

And his hips rolled and bucked and ground, deep inside Leshovik's body, as pressure and friction encompassed his staggering length, bathing his mind in vibrant pleasure, resonating like the strings of a harp.

Alexei leaned forward to lay his brow against Leshovik's, cool against fevered heat.

A flutter of pleasure shook his loins. A warning shot.

His lips roamed, kissing throat and shoulder hollow, kissing jaw and temple.

Meeting Leshovik's graphite blue gaze once more, and seeing the augmented mirror of himself, and yet, this man was a virtual stranger, even after many months of shared habitation and proximity.

Killers, and now...

Alexei thrust hard and upward, stripping the last veils from his gaze, letting Leshovik read him, the story in his eyes.

"While hidden, I see and destroy," he whispered, feeling the mounting pitch of tension in the body that held him like a velvet-gloved vice, and racheted ever upwards in his own.

It was the Soviet sniper's motto, but he whispered it with all the reverence of amorous confession.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik gasped, clutching onto the hammock tightly, shuddering at the soft, dark words Lynx whispered against his lips and punctuated with the focus of his regard.

At first, Lynx had seemed wholly inscrutable to Leshovik, a man who viewed the world with professional detatchment that hid his intent like a shadow across his eyes.

But as their mutal need drove their bodies together and their gazes twined, now Leshovik could see that Lynx was little different than he, a man with needs as profound and simple as anyone's.

Heat rose, thrumming in Leshovik's chest, and the warm, moist friction lanced sparks throughout his killzone, from crotch to head.

He felt orgasm overtake him with another thrust and twist, but he kept his eyes on Lynx's as his body contracted and he released with a violent shudder.

The splatter of hot fluid baptized them both, and fell like sacrament between them.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Lynx let out a sharp snarl, as the force of Leshovik's climax ripped him headlong into his own.

He pitched forward, claiming the sniper's mouth in a hard kiss, as his cock contracted and shot in staggering reports of orgasm.

He felt fluid, hot and copious, jettisoned deep and heavy.

Alexei's eyes sought Leshovik's once more, and held. He still rode him gently, steeping in the aftershocks.

Leshovik's seed was everywhere, he noted in vague amazement. He must have been serious when he said no one had fucked him in eight years.

The rain was back in his senses, now that he'd released. It was deafening, like standing under a waterfall.

And yet, there was a stillness in this small oasis.

"...Sometimes I wish we had names," Lynx said, quietly, to break the silence.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Tiny tremors were still shooting through him, slowly easing as Leshovik's breath slowed and his muscles slacked.

Leshovik felt a strangely pleasant sense of fatigue, as if he'd just purged a fever.

"We used to," he murmured, "before."

He wondered then, what he'd never bothered to wonder, if Lynx had things he'd simply given up, the way Leshovik had, or if he'd never had a single thing to lose, like Aryol.

"What was yours?" he asked, softly.

It was one of the forbidden questions that everyone in their vocation, save fools or impetuous youths, knew not to ask.

But he'd asked it, anyway.

He wondered which that made him.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Lynx looked at him, brows drawing inward, as he looked down, hesitant.

"...Alexei," he said, and it had been years since it had passed his own lips. "Alexei Nikitavich."

He paused, breathing steady and shallow, and absently wiped the sweat from Leshovik's brow, back into his shadow-blond hair, which felt like bristled velvet.

"You don't have to tell me yours," he said, though curiosity pricked at him.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: "Alexei Nikitavich," Leshovik repeated, struck by the subtly diffident note in Lynx's hesitation.

He'd never seen Lynx that way, never seen him anything less than quietly wry, and matter-of-fact, if he chose to describe it generously.

Smug son-of-a-bitch would be the less charitable version.

But it charmed him, to see that Lynx really was just like him, just like anyone, slightly uncertain when it came to sharing the things that mattered, even to a...to a close comrade.

He let go his grasp of the hammock edge behind him and carefully brought his arms up and around Lynx's muscular broad back, holding him lightly, undemanding.

"Viktor. Viktor Nikolayevich," he told Lynx, then smiled half-sideways, mouth quirked with a bit of irony. "Nice to meet you."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei studied him.

"It really suits you. Viktor. You look like a Viktor," he said touching the arched plane on the sniper's cheek. "It's a handsome name. Sharp and powerful."

He paused.

"I should let you up," he said, quietly. "Pull out."

But he didn't, not immediately. It felt good, here, with Leshovik's arms wrapped around him, swinging slightly, suspended in the bivouac sling.

"I'm sorry for...turning Aryol away from you. I didn't mean for that to happen. I only wanted to ease his pain."

Lynx raised his eyes.

"Don't be angry at him."

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: "I'm not."

Leshovik tightened his grasp slightly. Reflexively, not wanting Lynx to leave him right away, even if it grew uncomfortable.

"I'm angry at myself, comrade."

He held Lynx's gaze somberly.

"You were right to call me on it. You were right to comfort him. You're a better man than I am, and he deserves that. You didn't turn him away from me. I did that all on my own."

His eyes trailed away, and he glanced to the side, though he knew Lynx could see right through him, regardless.

"And I wouldn't blame him for staying angry at me. I'd never seen him like that before. Like a man. Not a kid."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: "He is a man," said Lynx, smiling slightly. "But he's a very young man."

He paused, risking another touch, tilting Leshovik's jaw back to face him and meeting his eyes.

"He's impulsive, but he'll forgive you. You're everything to him."

Alexei paused.

"To be honest, I don't know how you...I mean, he's young now, but he was...a kid when you took up with him."

He shook his head.

"I couldn't be with a kid, not like that," he said. "Would feel all wrong. I could keep him, look after him. Be his mentor. Fuck him. Love him, even. But for a companion, I..."

His voice settled, quieted.

"I prefer a man, comrade. One with a few seasons of killing under his belt."

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik was quiet.

He kept Lynx's eyes, held them. Leshovik's brows were creased lightly, drawn tight and low, darkening his gaze, turning it penitent.

"He was a kid," he said, after a while. "I'd worked with a few other spotters in the years after KGB OSNAZ took me. Anyone that was available. I didn't get along with any of them. Finally, they let me choose my own."

He shrugged lightly, the motion brushing his upper body against Lynx's broad shoulders.

"There were six of them. I watched them shoot, stood like a ghost on the periphery of the firing range. I knew he was the one immediately. He...reminded me of someone."

Leshovik's voice dropped, and his eyes flickered momentarily, skipping away, before he drew in a breath and steadied them, returning.

"We started fucking that afternoon. I didn't mean for it to happen. I knew he was young. But he said something to me, and...offered. Or I took it that way, and he seemed willing. He seemed to think I'd expect it, actually, but..."

He trailed off.

"...but I suppose I just wanted to...indulge myself. I should have done the honorable thing, but he was a good-looking kid, and it had been a while."

His mouth twisted, briefly.

"But what I didn't realize, not until now, is that you're right. I think I was wanting him to be something he wasn't. I was wanting a seasoned man. A killer."

Leshovik paused, sharpness returning to his eyes. Focus. He searched Lynx's gaze, slowly.

"One that could give me something he couldn't."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei nodded, exhaling softly, slipping his hand behind Leshovik's head unobtrusively, cupping the back of his head.

His fingers worked gently against the base of the sniper's scalp.

"Nothing feels as good as bloodstained hands," he whispered, lightly. "If you know what I mean."

He paused, smiling wryly.

"The man he reminded you of. Was he a killer?"

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: "I know what you mean," Leshovik murmured, one corner of his mouth quirking up.

"And you're right," he added, thoughtfully.

He drew in a deep breath, stretching under Lynx's weight. The contact felt good, to have Lynx around him, in him, idly stroking his most fragile places, the places that could be twisted or snapped or severed with a bullet, with instant death as a result.

"He was a killer, but...a humble one. He had a kill count that I'll never match, but he never made much of it. He was older. He'd fought in the war. He was at the battle of Stalingrad."

Leshovik shook his head.

"In all the ways it mattered, he understood."

He fell silent, and paused, searching Lynx's gaze.

"I loved him," he said, softly.

Tentatively, Leshovik moved his hand, and brushed it over Lynx's short, fine hair.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Lynx frowned.

"What happened?" he asked, closing his eyes.

It had been a long time since anyone had caressed him that way.

"Why aren't you loving him right now?"

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik let out a single, bitter laugh.

"Me, I guess. It was...a while ago. Eight years, in fact."

His voice turned more wry, but he continued to stroke Lynx's hair, making a long, gentle pass all the way down to the back of his neck. He brought his hand up, and did it again.

"I was being transferred, but he didn't want to come with me. And I guess I was kind of an asshole to him about it. We broke it off, but the night before my flight left, he came to my quarters and..."

Leshovik trailed off, shaking his head.

"Well. It was quite a night. But when I woke up, he was gone. I think I hated him for that."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Lynx grunted softly, lulled, gradually letting his brow come to rest on Leshovik's shoulder.

"Understandable," he said, in a low voice. "You felt betrayed. And you must have been young...like Aryol."

Leshovik's hands moved fluid and skillfully as a painter's, stroking his head, making him shiver.

Maybe he'd been mistaken about the sniper's penchant for artistry.

He paused, easing his lips forward slightly to give a lingering kiss to Leshovik's hard-muscled pectoral. Thinking perhaps it was such a slight motion it would go unnoticed.

"...And now? Does he know you're a dead man, Viktor?"

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: "No. He doesn't. I left everything behind."

Leshovik felt the impulse to tell Lynx about how he'd discovered who the base's sniper was. How he'd watched through the scope of his rifle, and caressed precious, tenuous threads of life with his trigger finger.

It seemed so distant and complex right now, like a barely-remembered dream.

Lynx rested against him, head tucked close, and Leshovik felt the brush of lips against his skin.

This was simple, in comparison. And it was good.

He stroked Lynx's hair.

"You?" he asked, after a while. "Ever been in love?"

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei's response to the word was a sharp inspiration of breath.

"Da," he said, brushing his mouth along the sniper's skin, as if fusing the seams above his heart. "I have been so in love, it almost killed me."

And if Leshovik knew his past, it would surely kill this fragile tendril that had managed to push through unfeeling concrete to sprout between the press of their bodies.

And yet something compelled him to confess.

That part of him that was self-sacrificing and suicidal. The part that wanted to peel open his soul and let this man run his hands over every inch of it, like suede.

He stilled his mouth against Leshovik's chest, momentarily suffocating the words.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik felt Lynx's shoulders flex, and pull taut.

Emotion, there, he thought. Pain. Not what he would expect from someone like Lynx, who seemed perfectly cut and flawless, reflective on all surfaces.

But apparently Lynx's flaws ran deep and invisible.

It made him feel better for some reason, to know that.

He let his hand come to a stop at the back of Lynx's neck, rubbing his skin, then he slowly leaned forward to kiss the top of Lynx's head.

"Sh. It's all right," he murmured, softly, against Lynx's ear. "It's in the past now, Alexei."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Lynx raised his head, slowly, looking into the familiar, handsome face of the man who lay sprawled beneath him, wearing an easy, lazy smile that was utterly alien to those features, as far as Alexei was concerned.

"The past has a nasty way of coming back," he said, eyelashes sweeping down, evasively.

"But...that doesn't mean the present can't..."

He trailed off.

Then he laughed softly.

"It doesn't mean the present can't become the future."

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: "No, it doesn't," Leshovik said, and let out a little laugh himself.

He thought he might like this present to become the future, actually. It made sense to him.

Leshovik rubbed Lynx's neck while he thought.

"So. How's this going to work, tonight? He's probably still mad at me, but..."

He frowned lightly.

"...but he's not used to sleeping alone."

Neither was he, actually, but Leshovik didn't say that.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Lynx couldn't suppress a smile at that. Aryol was still a boy draped over a man's frame in many ways.

"He looked exhausted when I left him to come and talk to you. It took a lot out of him- the contention over the shot, your castigation," he paused, with a flinch, "...our interlude," he added tactfully. "And the fight with you....he said it was the hardest thing he'd ever done in his life. Said killing was easier."

He shook his head.

"He's probably out like a light."

Alexei's lips took on a wistful tilt.

"I could carry him back here," he said, softly, meeting Leshovik's eyes. "Set him back in your arms like he never left."

He smiled, and touched Leshovik's brow, mild and indulgent.

"When he wakes up in the morning, you make love to him, and tell him it never happened."

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik tightened his grip around Lynx.

He hesitated, trying to find the words. Trying to figure out what he wanted to say. He held Lynx's gaze until he couldn't anymore, and then he looked away.

"I don't want you to be alone tonight, either," he said.

He licked his lips, pressed them together.

"You should go to him. Hold him him while he sleeps. When he wakes up, you can put in a good word for me, maybe. But I - "

Leshovik broke off.

He drew in a breath, and raised his eyes again. Slowly, he searched Lynx's gaze.

"I don't want this just to be a one time thing, you and me, like this. I..."

He hesitated, over the word 'need'.

"I want...I'd like it if..."

Dammit. Leshovik scowled, reflexively. This was harder than he remembered.

"I'd like for this to continue," he finally said. "I don't know how that's going to work, because he needs you too, but I can't pretend like this never happened."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei's gaze broke and softened, as he regarded Leshovik's conflicted lips, his furrowed brow.

"Say the word and I'm your slave," he said, quietly.

There was no reason to begin and end tonight, he had been thinking. Crushing that delicate shoot of green beneath a heavy tread.

"I didn't get what I came here for tonight, Leshovik. I got something far better. I'm not ready to open my hand yet." He paused. "And if you're not either..."

Lynx breathed in, gently.

"There's no reason for either of us to sleep alone, Lesha. Especially after we..."

He broke off, remonstrating his words.

"...let's go check on the kid. Bet you anything he's sawing planks. And then, we can all get some sleep. It's close quarters, but there's plenty of bedding...and I want to wake up to your scowling face."

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: That made Leshovik smile, and he shook his head.

"Keep it up and I'm not going to have a lot to scowl about," he muttered, but then leaned forward, impulsively, and caught Lynx's lips with his.

He kept the kiss light, but heartfelt. Brief but lingering, right at the end.

Leshovik pulled back slowly.

He didn't know what all of this meant. It was simply too much to process, all at once. But Leshovik supposed that this was a place to start.

"All right," he said, holding Lynx's gaze. "Sounds like a plan."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei raised a wry eyebrow.

"I'm sure you'll find something," he said, but there was affection in the gibe.

He shifted, easing his spent, semi-soft cock from inside Leshovik, wincing a little, and drawing himself slowly up to his full height.

"Waited too long," he said ruefully. "But it felt good where it was."

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik's eyes lingered on Lynx a moment, then he shook his head.

"Yeah. It did," he said, then slowly eased himself up to a sitting position, tilting the hammock. He winced as well. Leshovik really hadn't had a pounding like that in a good long time.

He was going to move a little funny tomorrow, he could tell.

Leshovik found himself liking the idea of that probably more than he should.

He looked around for the clothes he'd been wearing, but he vaguely recalled Lynx ripping them off of him.

Leshovik wasn't going to complain much about that, either.

He waited a few more seconds, then pushed himself to his feet. He felt wet. Sticky. But also tired, and thoroughly fucked, which made up for a lot.

"We can bring the extra blankets to your tent," he said, and paused to pick one up, winding it around his shoulders.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei nodded.

"That's a good idea," he said, gathering them up.

He fastened his pants and pushed aside the flap, not bothering to look for his shirt. They could sort it out tomorrow.

The evening had a dreamy surreality, and the camp seemed to have changed topography- before, it was a series of isolated islands, corresponding to each bivouac, with an uneasy but amicable common ground at the center.

Now it felt more like a fraternal enclave of boys' elaborate forts, with no restrictions or boundaries, outside of the perimeter of camp.

He glanced at Leshovik.

"After you," he said, with a hesitant smile.

Outside, the rain poured down in a cacophony of texture and sound.

Alexei had always liked rain at night. It was one of those most simple comforts, to be cozened and sheltered beneath bedding in a bivouac, coiled against a comrade's warm and living muscles.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik's mouth curved briefly as he returned Lynx's smile, but then he paused, resting one hand on the tent flap.

It was as if he could feel Aryol in the space just beyond, like the bond between sniper and spotter remained even though their more personal tie had been severed.

Or had it, he wondered.

He still felt it, like a distant ache, the pain of a hastily amputated limb.

Behind him, Lynx waited as if he did not notice the hesitation, a quietly patient presence at his back.

Leshovik knew there was no use in waiting. It wouldn't change anything. What had been done, was now done, and he would have to live with the consequences.

He stepped forward, and opened the tent flap silently, before he could hesitate any longer. His gaze swept the bivouac.

Soft amber light illuminated the space, making it easy enough to see Aryol laying on his side in a bedroll on the ground, curled in on himself like a child.

His tousled black hair spiked across the pillow, and the slow rise and fall of bare shoulders was just visible under the blanket.

Leshovik smiled, slowly.

"You were right," he whispered, as Lynx joined him inside. "He's definitely out for the night."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: "Told you," said Alexei, sparing only a glance at Aryol, who looked vulnerable and young, despite the man's physique outlined beneath the blankets.

He sighed, turning the wick down, so that it was only a seed of a glow in the camp light, and soft shadows embraced the scene in a warm semidarkness.

"Here," he said, kneeling and slipping his arms briefly under Aryol's sleeping form, lifting him easily off the ground. "Spread out the bedrolls and blankets, comrade. There's plenty of room for him, and....you and I, as well."

Lynx used four bedrolls to accommodate his size and penchant for sprawl. But that was when he slept alone. When he slept...accompanied...he tended to incline closely.

Zhenya could have testified to that.

Their aftermaths resulted in a tangle of musculature and massively gripping embrace of limbs, as if two granite statues had merged into a new art.

He pushed aside the memory of Volgin, now, raising his eyes to drink deliberately of the sniper, and indulge himself at his vision's fount.

"I can take the hammock," he said, softly.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: "No," Leshovik whispered, shaking his head.

His blanket slipped down his back as he worked to spread out the bedrolls evenly and distribute the blankets to provide enough padding on the hard ground.

"The three of us, together, comrade," he murmured, glancing at Lynx again. "I want to wake up next to you."

Aryol had turned his head to rest against Lynx's broad chest, barely disturbed by having been lifted from his bed. The kid always slept that way, deeply, completely untroubled. Even the occasional times when Leshovik woke suddenly from nightmares, Aryol rarely stirred.

Leshovik finished arranging the bedding into a thick, comfortable nest, leaving several blankets in reserve to cover them.

He nodded at the newly-formed bed.

"You sleep in the middle. It'll be easiest."

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei nodded, setting Aryol down on the right hand side of the bed and rolling him gently back onto his side, where he shifted and lay still.

Then he reached for his trouser buttons, pausing. But there was no reason to stand on ceremony, he realized, given that both of these men had seen him naked and unabashed, and known him...more so.

He stripped them off, and threw them over the hammock, climbing carefully in beside Aryol's slumbering form, and settling down between the blankets, resting back on his elbows.

Watching Leshovik patiently, with quiet expectation.

"Now what?" he asked, mildly. Eyes somnolent, blue, and steady.

[livejournal.com profile] leshovik: Leshovik moved to get into the wide bed next to Lynx, and settled easily against his side, close.

On the other side of Lynx, he could see that Aryol did the same, still only semiconscious, blindly reacting to a familiar solid body, seeking out warmth and security like a puppy.

Leshovik smiled, drawing up the blankets around them.

"Now we sleep, comrade," he whispered, and leaned over briefly to graze a light kiss against Lynx's lips. "And dream good dreams, knowing that we're not alone."

Leshovik settled again, laying his arm across Lynx's stomach, and tucking his head against Lynx's chest.

[livejournal.com profile] snow_death: Alexei nodded slowly.

"Da," he said, finding his voice, and finding it soft and measured.

A match for Leshovik's.

Somehow, the sniper had shaken off a number of bitter years, it seemed, like a dog jettisons water, and suddenly he realized that this newly self-confident and gregarious Leshovik was a man he didn't know at all.

Thirty-something, like him. They were still very young men, he realized, with faint surprise.

"Da," he said again, with a single, solemn nod. "Now we sleep."

His hand slowly caressed the cropped blond brow of the head that lay on his breast.

"...Dream sweet, Vitya."

November 2009


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