FIC - Stolen Promises

[oceansecrets2.livejournal.com]

Title: Stolen Promises
Author: arieltachna and namarie120
Type: RPS / FPS crossover
Pairing: Orlando Bloom / Nikolai Luzhin
Rating: NC-17
Warning: Possible spoilers, though we’ve tried to keep it vague and still make sense to people who haven’t seen the film yet
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction, created for entertainment and enjoyment only. With all due respect, we do not own these characters or the actors portraying them. They’re just too compelling to pass up a chance to play with them.
Feedback: would be wonderful
Beta: tularia
Summary: A police officer and a Russian mobster meet in London
A/N: Seventh in the No Promises series.
A/N2: Thanks to tularia for the banner and tati for the Russian translations





“You should be more careful when you find boy to fuck, but don’t worry. I took care of problem for you.”

Nicolai's gaze flew to Kirill, the younger vor lounging in the doorway with a drunken grin on his face, his good humour belied by the jealous gleam in his eyes. A chill of icy terror stiffened Nikolai’s spine, and only the discipline of years of survival allowed him to draw a calming breath before answering. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I told Kostya and Sergej to talk to him. He won't bother you any more," Kirill replied with a snort of laughter.

"Talk to who?" Nikolai scoffed dismissively, but he knew. Orlando. Somehow, Kirill had found out about Orlando. A red haze darkened Nikolai's sight, the same crushing fear he had felt watching Piotr's death threatening to overwhelm him. He forced himself to breathe, the inhale and exhale slow and steady, focusing only on the moment. He was not the same powerless young man he had been all those years before. He would control his reaction, learn all he could first, then decide how to act. And if Kirill had harmed Orlando, he would tear him apart limb from limb with his bare hands and feed his entrails to the rats.

"You know who," Kirill said, pushing away from the door and staggering in Nikolai's direction. "The boy you visit yesterday. But that's over now. Is just you and me again." His unsteady footsteps brought him to the older man's side, falling heavily against him.

Nikolai spun Kirill around, pinning him to the wall with his forearm. "What did you do to him?" he snarled, hoping the emotion in his voice would be taken as anger. "Svoloch! What did you do to him?"

For the first time since his father was arrested, Kirill was afraid. Semyon had been quick with his fists – or his feet – but never with the cold malice that invested Nikolai's voice and manner now. "They gave him message," he answered shakily, "to stay away from you. They roughed him up a little, is all, to make sure he understood."

Kirill's voice had taken on the same fawning tone he had used when making excuses to his father, but Nikolai was not placated. Kostya and Sergej were two of Kirill's bullies, as bad as the Chechens who had attacked him, willing to do anything to curry favour with their captain. He had to make sure Orlando was all right (was still alive, his mind whispered, but he refused to listen) – but first he needed to counteract Kirill's jealousy.

"He is militsiya," he grated, leaning closer, his arm tightening against the younger man's chest to be sure he had his attention. "Vice squad. I am paying him off to look the other way." His free hand caught at Kirill's hair and yanked his head up roughly, forcing the younger vor to meet his stare. "I thought we were partners. I thought you trusted me." He softened his voice, adding a hint of pained disbelief. "Is protection. Nothing more."

"Protection?" Kirill repeated, the word making its way slowly through his alcohol-clouded thoughts. "For us?" It took a few minutes, but he remembered the other vory leaders complaining about the increased raids on their undertakings since Semyon was arrested. Some of them had even questioned whether the old leader had given up information in exchange for a lighter sentence. "Is why the others are having more problems with police than us."

"Da, Kirill," Nikolai affirmed snidely, releasing the chokehold on his nominal leader. "Except now you might have fucked it all up." He shook out his coatsleeves, shooting a look that dared Kirill to challenge him. "Best I go see if I can salvage things, before he has us all arrested. Next time, leave thinking to me." He turned at the door to the restaurant, fixing Kirill with a virulent glare. "Besides, you know I’m no queer – you made me prove it, remember?"

Heading out the door without waiting for Kirill's reaction, Nikolai was in the car and halfway to Orlando's apartment before he slowed to consider what he was doing. After the way they had parted, he suspected Orlando would not be pleased to see him, but Nikolai could not bring himself to care. He needed to see Orlando, to be sure he was alive and safe – to assure him he would keep Kirill from harming him further. After that, if Orlando threw him out again, he would leave without complaint. But he needed to see him with his own eyes first, one last time.

~~~

The knock at the door roused Orlando from his contemplation of the TV screen. He couldn't have said what he was watching, so it hardly mattered anyway. Rising painfully to his feet, he stifled a curse as the movement pulled at his bruised ribs. The doctor had assured him nothing was broken, not even cracked, but it didn't make walking any easier at the moment. He'd told his supervisor simply that his attackers had spoken Russian. He hadn't told the older man that they'd also spoken English and had delivered a very specific message.

Glancing through the peep hole to see who was there, Orlando almost turned around and walked back to his chair when he saw Nikolai on the other side, but his heart wouldn't let him be that cruel. The Russian had obviously found out about the attack and wanted to make sure he was safe. Orlando could understand the impulse. He had done the same when he'd heard about Nikolai being injured. Opening the door, he turned around and walked gingerly back to his seat, trusting that Nikolai would follow him inside.

"You were right. This can't work," he said without looking up at his former lover as he carefully lowered himself back into the armchair. It broke his heart to say it, but he simply couldn't ignore reality any longer. Nothing he could say, no enticement he could offer, would persuade Nikolai to abandon his quest, and as long as he was part of the vory, they had no future. "Go back to Volkov before he decides to take his anger out on you, too."

"How badly are you hurt?" Nikolai asked, ignoring everything else Orlando said as he knelt at the side of the younger man's chair. His hands gently stroked his lover's body, searching for injuries, his eyes never leaving Orlando's face. "What did they do to you, malysh?"

Orlando hissed slightly when Nikolai's hands brushed over his ribs. "I'm fine," he insisted, trying to ignore the way the endearment tugged at his heart. "I've been hurt worse on the job. It's just a few bruises. You don't need to worry about it. You should see the other guys," he added, trying to lighten the mood a little. Their relationship might be over, but that didn't mean he loved Nikolai any less.

"I will see them," Nikolai promised, vowing to recreate every bruise on Orlando's skin on the thugs' flesh. "You should be in bed," he added, rising to his feet and offering a hand to help Orlando stand. "Kirill will not harm you again," he added softly when Orlando frowned. "He will have to come through me first, I swear it."

Orlando shook his head. "Don't ruin everything because of me. You haven't gotten your revenge yet." There was no condemnation in his voice, simply acceptance. He'd spent all of last night after Nikolai left and most of today thinking, and he'd come to the conclusion that Nikolai was right and that trying to convince him otherwise would be pure selfishness on his part. "I won't interfere with that. I know how much it means to you."

"You mean much to me." The words were out before Nikolai could censor them, but he would not call them back. He had lost one lover without being able to tell him what he had meant to him. He could not risk losing Orlando the same way. "Come to bed, Orlik."

Orlando's eyes closed against the pain of hearing a hint of the emotion that yesterday would have thrilled him beyond words. Now it only increased the pain he felt. Still, he was selfish enough to want one more night with Nikolai. Accepting the outstretched hand, he rose slowly and led Nikolai into his bedroom. "We can't do this again, every time we turn to sex it solves nothing." He could not hide the defeat in his voice. "All we do is hurt each other more each time."

"Has been enough hurt," Nikolai agreed, easing Orlando's jumper over his head. He held his breath to keep from cursing at the livid bruises that marred the police officer's chest, resisting the urge to smooth his lips over each mark since it was clear Orlando would not welcome his attentions. His hands dropped to the waist of Orlando's track pants, lowering them gently over the slender hips. He held out his arm for Orlando to steady himself as he stepped out of the pooled fabric, then helped support him as slid between the sheets. "Rest," he whispered quietly, unable to resist bending down to brushing a tender kiss over the cut on his lover's cheek before stepping away.

Orlando let Nikolai undress him down to his shorts and tuck him into bed like an invalid. He stifled a sob at the loving kiss, reminding himself again how fruitless it was to hope for anything more. Carefully, he rolled to his side, closing his eyes so he wouldn't have to see Nikolai leave him again.

Nikolai's heart knotted in his chest when Orlando closed his eyes, as if he couldn't even bear to look at him. What have I brought him but pain? Nikolai thought. He knew he should leave and let Orlando sleep, but he couldn't force himself to go, returning to kneel at the side of the bed. Reaching for the hand that lay on top of the sheets, he touched his lips to the abraded knuckles. "Orlik..." he whispered, his own eyes closing on a wave of regret. "Prosti ... forgive me for bringing you to this."

Orlando's eyes opened at the words, surprise showing on his face. "If anything, I brought it on myself," he reminded Nikolai, touched by the other man's gesture and his continued presence. "I suggested we meet here, not you. I just hope I didn't ruin everything for you. Kirill knows about us now."

"Is fixed," Nikolai assured him, promising himself he would do whatever it took to keep Kirill convinced there was no cause for jealousy. "I told him I pay you off. Now I have reason to come to see you." Or would, if there were any hope Orlando wanted to see him again.

"To what end?" Orlando asked hopelessly. "So we can keep tearing strips off each other like we did last night? I don't know how much more my heart can take."

Twining his fingers in Orlando's clasp, Nikolai brushed the soft hair away from his lover’s forehead with his other hand. "I cannot stay away," he admitted softly. "I am not alive when my heart is here with you."

Orlando stared at Nikolai in shocked silence. He had never truly expected to hear any kind of declaration from his taciturn lover, even an oblique one. It took him a moment to absorb the words. Finally, he reached out and returned the caress Nikolai had bestowed on him. Not sure what could come of it but unwilling to let his lover walk away again, he lifted the sheet slightly in invitation. "You can't be comfortable there on the floor. Lie down with me."

The hesitant note in Orlando's voice reminded Nikolai he was only asking for comfort, not sex – but whatever Orlando needed, Nikolai would give to him. Toeing off his shoes and tossing his jacket aside, the vor lowered himself beside his injured lover, slowly wrapping an arm over the younger man's chest. Despite his intentions, he could not help but remember when Orlando had come to him after the attack in the steambaths. He slid back on the mattress, widening the space between them to mask the evidence of his inappropriate arousal.

Orlando moved into Nikolai's embrace, enjoying the quiet intimacy of simply being held. "So what happens now?" he asked, relaxing completely for the first time since he had felt hands grabbing him that morning as he went for his daily run.

Nikolai shrugged, knowing there were no easy answers. "Whatever you want to happen," he answered, refusing to look beyond this moment. Being able to hold Orlando in his arms again was a chance he had not dared to hope for – he would not tempt fate by asking for more.

"What I want isn't going to happen," Orlando said bluntly, though he didn't pull away. "You'll always leave and go back to the vory, and I won't ask you to be less than you are. How can I when that's what drew me to you – and back to you – in the first place?"

"You think too much," Nikolai chided with the ghost of a wry smile, his thumb rubbing the furrowed skin of his lover's brow. "Leave tomorrow 'til tomorrow. Is only today."

Orlando considered that statement. It certainly applied to them, but it would have been true anyway. Promises of a lifetime didn't guarantee anything. A lifetime could be a day as easily as fifty years. He had seen that more than once when he'd worked traffic accidents. They could make the most of what time they could steal together or they could be miserable apart. It was a compromise he wished they didn't have to make, but it was better than nothing, better than what he'd feared to have. "Today," he agreed, shifting closer to Nikolai, his lips brushing the other man's softly, a silent promise.

Slowly, carefully, Nikolai drew Orlando closer, his lips parting in silent invitation to deepen the kiss. As much as he ached to feel Orlando pressed against him, he would do nothing to risk causing any further pain. His palm coasted lightly over Orlando's back, the other hand reaching up to cup his lover's cheek, urging him to continue.

Orlando lingered over the kiss, taking his time learning Nikolai's mouth. They'd kissed so rarely, and usually only in the heat of passion, their lips crashing together, that these lingering kisses seemed yet another new intimacy. He traced the scar on Nikolai's upper lip with his tongue, wondering where it came from, although he didn't ask, not wanting to shatter the peace that currently reigned between them. Instead, he took his lover up on his unspoken invitation, his tongue moving inside the slightly parted lips, lingering on their contours as he had on the scar.

The gentle, thorough exploration of his lover's tongue probing his mouth awoke a hunger Nikolai believed had died over twenty years before. Moaning softly, his lips moved against Orlando's, opening wider, his head tilting to offer more access, the emotions he now believed Orlando shared freeing him to allow a measure of control he had granted to no other.

The soft moan fired Orlando's blood, and he pushed up on one elbow, ignoring the pain in his side, so he could delve deeper into the hot cavity. Still keeping the kiss slow, but with ever increasing intensity, he searched out and claimed every nook and cranny of his lover's mouth, needing this connection. His hands remained at his sides, his fear of provoking another attack of memory stronger than his desire to touch, but he knew instinctively there was nothing to fear in their kisses.

By the time Orlando released his mouth with a last gentle nip of his upper lip, Nikolai was breathing harshly, his pulse pounding, his cock thick and swollen against the placket of his trousers. Lying back against the pillows, he drew Orlando's hands to his chest, inviting him to open the buttons as he pulled off his tie and dropped it to the floor. "Touch me, malysh," he murmured as slender fingers pulled the shirt tails from his trousers and skated over his heated flesh.

Orlando's fingers trembled as he did as Nikolai asked, each caress followed by a pause while he searched his lover's face constantly for any sign that he had evoked unpleasant memories. He hated the hesitancy that controlled him now, but he had hated even more seeing the look on Nikolai's face the night before. He peeled back the halves of the other man's shirt, keeping his touch as light and loving as he could, hoping that would be enough to avoid a repeat of last night. "What does that word mean?" he asked softly, brushing his lips across Nikolai's again.

The tentative touches sparked Nikolai's desire but were not enough to satisfy the need they awakened. Flattening his palms over Orlando's hands, he increased their pressure, guiding them to rub over his peaked nipples. "Means..." he hesitated, his voice breaking on a gasp as he maneuvered their hands to circle the hardened nubs. "Means, 'little one'..." he answered, groaning when Orlando's fingers moved of their own volition to tweak the sensitive points. "...Baby..."

The whispered words and Nikolai's heartfelt groan encouraged Orlando to repeat the caress, pinching lightly at the peaked flesh. These were a lover's caresses, he reminded himself, not something Nikolai would have endured in prison, and that made them safe. Feeling bolder with that silent reassurance, he lowered his head and licked at them lightly, sucking first one, then the other nipple into his mouth. "Malysh," he repeated, letting the word roll off his tongue. "I like it."

"I like it too," Nikolai responded, tangling a hand into Orlando's hair and guiding his mouth back for more of the seductive sensation. His cock was pressing so hard against his slacks it was almost painful, and he moved Orlando's hand downward to cover the thick bulge, groaning in relief when the fingers curled around him. "Da," he rasped, his hips rocking up into the touch, "da, Orlik."

Orlando almost balked when Nikolai moved his hand lower, but his lover's obvious pleasure overcame his qualms. He stroked the hard column through the fabric, lifting his head again to watch the older man's face. He couldn't do this without that reassurance. His own cock jumped at the thought of welcoming the heavy length inside him again and he shifted restlessly, the motion suddenly aborted when his ribs protested. He cursed under his breath and collapsed back to the bed.

At Orlando's gasp of pain, Nikolai pushed onto an elbow, his eyes flying to gauge the younger man's expression. "Too much?" he asked in concern, his body protesting the loss of Orlando's touch but ready to stop if their lovemaking was more than the abused body could bear.

"I just moved the wrong way," Orlando hastened to assure him, not wanting Nikolai to perceive his withdrawal as a rejection. "Just give me a minute. I'll be all right."

The words echoed painfully in Nikolai's mind, the memory of how he had pushed Orlando away the night before shaming him. Vowing again that he would do nothing to hurt his lover, emotionally or physically, Nikolai encouraged Orlando to rest on his back and carefully straddled him, taking care that none of his weight pressed against bruised flesh. The position exposed even more of his body to his lover's reach and he was quick to draw Orlando's hands back to his chest, inviting them to stroke lower, following the planes of his abdomen to the waistband of his trousers.

The invitation was too clear to misunderstand, so despite his lingering concerns, Orlando let Nikolai guide his hands, regretting the lost innocence of their relationship. He shook his head at the irony of that thought – there had been nothing innocent about their interactions from the moment their eyes met – but there had been a lack of inhibitions, and that was gone now, replaced by nervousness. The revelations of the day before didn't change the way Orlando felt about Nikolai – he'd already realized nothing could change his emotions except perhaps to make him love the other man even more – but they did influence the way he acted. Nikolai had been hurt enough. Orlando refused to add to it.

Orlando didn't resist the guidance of Nikolai's hands, but neither did he move beyond trailing his fingers over the lines of muscle that defined the vor's hard stomach. Nikolai couldn't help but contrast this awkward tension with the near-violence of their first times together. That Orlando would have had his slacks torn off and his cock halfway down his throat by now. Yet despite all the intervening pain since then, Nikolai would not wish back those early days, not when he knew now how much more there was to his lover than just a delectable body – not when he was beginning to believe in what they felt for each other. Regaining the ability to feel again was worth the initial pain.

Bending forward, Nikolai held his weight on his arms at either side of Orlando's chest, feathering bare touches of his lips over each mark that marred the perfect flesh. Tightening his leg muscles, he pushed his hips upward, giving Orlando's hands more room to move. "Pozhaluysta," he whispered against his lover's heart, "Orlik, touch me."

Orlando's grip firmed where his hands rested against Nikolai's sides. "I want to," he replied in a whisper of his own, "but I'm afraid I'll hurt you again."

Nikolai's lips lingered over a darkened bruise spanning several ribs where something, a ring perhaps, had broken the flesh. "You are the one hurting," he murmured with regret, his determination growing to give his lover such pleasure as would drive away all his pain.

"Not that kind of pain," Orlando retorted gently, smoothing his palms over Nikolai's cheeks, urging him to look up so their gazes met. "I don't want to hurt you like I did last night."

Steel-grey eyes searched liquid brown ones for a moment, then Nikolai lowered his forehead to rest against Orlando's. "Only way you can hurt me is not to touch me," he asserted, the words vibrating against Orlando's lips.

Orlando's hands still trembled slightly as they stroked lower, but he tried to take Nikolai at his word, loosening the belt and unfastening the trousers. The familiar black silk boxers came into view, the sight amusing him suddenly. "I'm going to buy you a pair of bright yellow shorts," he declared with a short chuckle. "Something to relieve all this black."

The unexpected comment won a snort of laughter from Nikolai. Some of the tension drained from his spine and he let his lips curve into a thin smile. "For you, I might wear them," he admitted, his breath catching as Orlando's hands pushed trousers and boxers over his buttocks and down his thighs. He reached back to help free them from his legs, his hand brushing Orlando's, fingers interlacing in a brief kiss of skin to skin before the last of his clothing fell away and he was naked over his lover. "These too," he urged, tracing the elastic ridge of Orlando's more colourful plaid shorts, needing to slide away the last barrier between them.

Orlando lifted his hips and let Nikolai strip him. "Just don't wear them for anyone else," he teased, amazed at his own boldness. He wasn't naive enough to believe they were through with problems, but for the first time, he felt like they were truly lovers, able not just to have sex, but to laugh and tease the way true lovers do. "They might take away your stars."

"Is not possible," Nikolai countered, slowly lowering himself until their groins touched, his rigid cock swaying against Orlando's, their bodies mating flesh against flesh. It was a sensation he had felt dozens of times in the months they had been lovers and yet it felt totally new, as if nerves that had been deadened had suddenly come to life, flooding him with new awareness. "Is commitment for life." He rolled his hips gently, making them slide against each other, hissing at the rush of pleasure that spread through his body at the simple touch. "Ya tebya lyublyu,” he groaned, his hands settling on Orlando's shoulders as he leaned back, gradually increasing the pressure. "Need you."

Orlando's legs parted immediately, more than willing to fulfill that request. His heart beat faster at the tenderness in Nikolai's voice as he murmured in Russian. "Don't hide behind words I don't understand," he pleaded, though he thought perhaps he knew what his lover had whispered. "Tell me what they mean, Kolya, please."

His instinctive reaction was to refuse, to turn the question away with a clever answer, but Nikolai stopped the words before they could leave his lips. He was committed to more than just the vory now, and he could no more deny the one than he could the other. His palm slid down Orlando's shoulder to rest over his lover’s heart for a moment, continuing down his arm to wrap around his hand and press it against his own heart beneath the lurid tattoos. "Love you," he vowed, his voice soft but strong. "Means I love you."

"I love you, too," Orlando replied, squeezing the hand that held his. He hadn't been wrong. The words weren't a magic wand to erase everything that kept them apart, but they were a promise to stop fighting each other and to face the world as one, even if no one saw that but them. Needing one final affirmation of their new commitment, he tipped his hips upward, rubbing against Nikolai's groin. "Make love to me?"

Nikolai could think of only one thing he wanted more, one way to lay the ghosts of the past to rest while ensuring he caused his lover no more pain. Lifting their joined hands to his lips, he kissed Orlando's palm and then brought them to Orlando's cock, stroking slowly up the strong column. "This time you make love to me."

Orlando's cock leapt at the thought, even as his heart fell. "Kolya," he protested, remembering how badly the previous night had ended. "You don't have to do this. You don't have to prove anything to me."

Perhaps I need to prove to myself, Nikolai thought, but he had not missed the reaction of Orlando's body to his offer. "Is something we both want," he responded, squeezing the cock that jumped in his hand.

Orlando could hardly deny he wanted it, but that didn't make it a good idea. He was aware of the gift Nikolai was offering him, but he didn't want another misstep now, not when they'd finally started to make true peace between them. "Another time," he suggested. "When we've both had more time to get used to the idea." When I'm sure it won't destroy what we're finally beginning to build.

"Get used to the idea," Nikolai purred, leaning forward to pin Orlando's shoulders to the bed, not forcefully enough to hurt but strongly enough to make the point that he would not be gainsaid. "This will happen – you can prep me first or I will take you in as we are. Your choice."

Orlando almost protested again, but Nikolai's face was implacable, and what he was asking was hardly a hardship. He would just have to go slowly and make sure he didn't unintentionally bring back any bad memories. "There's lube in the drawer," he capitulated.

Freeing one hand long enough to locate the small bottle, Nikolai handed it to his lover and then returned to the pleasant task of running his lips over every mark on Orlando's chest. The younger man trembled beneath him, mirroring the thrill that vibrated along Nikolai's nerves as he anticipated what was to come.

Orlando took a deep breath to steady his hands as he squeezed some lube onto his fingers. He waited long enough for the gel to warm before sliding his hand between them, catching both their erections in a slippery grip, stroking firmly as he spread the fluid over both their shafts. He would do this because Nikolai insisted – hell, who was he kidding? He was as hard as a rock at the thought of being the first one to touch Nikolai this way in who knew how many years – but he would do it at his own pace and in his own way, giving his lover plenty of opportunity to change his mind if he wanted to.

The slick glide of Orlando's hand on their cocks wrung a low moan from Nikolai's throat, but as good as it felt, it was nothing they hadn't done before. Hoping to spur on his lover's actions, his mouth closed over a dusky nipple, worrying it to pebbled hardness before tugging it gently between his teeth. The hand on his cock stilled as Orlando's back arched into the contact, his breath hissing out between clenched teeth. Nikolai caught the idle hand and drew it backward, humming at the friction over his balls as he lowered his mouth to the other side of Orlando's chest.

Nikolai didn't seem to be changing his mind if the way he directed Orlando's hand was any indication. Inwardly shaking his head, Orlando cupped the heavy sac in his palm, fondling the pendant flesh with careful diligence, determined to arouse Nikolai as much as possible before beginning to stretch him. Hopefully, that would offset the inevitable burn after the untold years he suspected it had been since Piotr died.

Nikolai's unaccustomed restlessness grew along with his arousal under Orlando's cautious touch. For the first time, he understood the need he'd heard in Orlando's voice when his lover begged to be fucked. Even the sure expectation of pain wasn't enough to quell the hunger to feel Orlando pushing inside him, joining them in the most intimate of all unions. "You take too long," he growled, hitching his hips to try and force Orlando's hand where he needed it most.

"I'll take as long as I damn well please," Orlando snapped, though there was no heat in his voice. Immediately, he checked himself, reminding himself of the huge step Nikolai was taking. "Let me do this right, Kolya. Let me make it good for you."

"Will be good," Nikolai answered, exhaling as he willed himself to give up the need to control. This was Orlando. He wanted this. "Will be you." Still, he could not resist arching his hips again, a hint of impatience tingeing his voice. "Just ... faster."

Orlando tilted his head up, catching Nikolai's lips with his own as he slid his hand lower, to where Nikolai wanted it. He lingered over that first, slow touch, letting his lover get accustomed to the feel of his fingers. The last thing he wanted was to catch the older man off guard and evoke more unpleasant memories. When Nikolai's tongue surged into his mouth, he jettisoned such worries and simply let himself act, tracing the tight hole teasingly before pressing just the tip of his finger inside. The guardian muscle tensed against him and he pulled his mouth free long enough to whisper, "Relax and let me in."

"Been long time," Nikolai rasped hoarsely, fighting the instinctive urge to clench against the intrusion. Not intrusion, he insisted to himself, rocking back against the teasing fingertip. Orlik. My Orlik. "Now, Orlik," he murmured against his lover's lips, pushing back until he felt the stretch and burn of the slick digit entering him.

Orlando didn't ask how long. It didn't matter. All that mattered was making this time as enjoyable as possible. Twisting his fingers in the impossibly hot sheath, he searched for Nikolai's gland. The hitch of his lover's hips and the sudden gasp of breath assured him he'd found it. He pulsed his fingertip against the spot, working it relentlessly until Nikolai was panting roughly against his lips. "Ready for more?"

"Da," Nikolai panted, "da, more." The twisting stretch and irregular swipes of Orlando's finger were teasing him with a promise just out of reach, awakening a hunger that only his lover's body could satisfy. Biting back a groan when a second finger joined the first, his lips moved down Orlando's throat, across the wing of his collarbone, biting at the muscle of his shoulder when the fingers began to scissor inside him.

Slowly, deliberately, thoroughly, Orlando stretched the tight portal until the muscle had loosened enough for him to tease around the entrance with a third finger. He wasn't as thick as Nikolai was, but he refused to cause his lover any pain. "One more?" he asked, hoping the answer would be yes.

"Nyet," Nicolai insisted, pushing up onto his palms and taking Orlando's mouth in a deep, hard, demanding kiss. "No more fingers. Want you." He closed a hand around Orlando's arousal, his thumb mixing the pre-come that leaked from its tip with the glossy gel that coated the shaft, rising onto his knees to guide it between his splayed legs.

"Oh, fuck!" Orlando moaned, the heat of Nikolai's hand, Nikolai's body burning through him. He forced himself to stillness, allowing his lover to control the speed and depth of his penetration. Slowly – oh, gods, so slowly! – Nikolai sank down onto him until they were groin to groin, Orlando's cock fully sheathed. He wanted to ask if Nikolai was all right, but words were beyond him. He levered his eyelids open –he couldn't have said when they fell – and searched his lover's face instead. There had never been a more alluring sight, he decided, than the vision of his lover slowly riding him, one stray lock of hair falling decadently across his forehead.

"Bozhe moi," Nikolai groaned as he dragged himself up until only the swollen head of Orlando's cock remained inside him, then just as slowly sank down again on the pulsing rod. He felt every bulge and vein, every throb of Orlando's shaft inside him, clinging to him, searing him with a fierce friction that left him gasping. His muscles tightened around the hard length, trying to hold Orlando closer, pull him deeper, feel him become part of his own flesh, part of his soul. Letting his head fall back, he rode his lover faster as his body's demands took over, the wordless cries from Orlando's lips assuring him he felt the same consuming pleasure.

One of Orlando's hands settled on Nikolai's hip, not to control, but simply to connect himself to his lover's movements. The other encircled the bobbing shaft that rose proudly from the older man's groin. He thrust up to meet each of Nikolai's downward plunges, their bodies slapping together furiously, until he was close to sobbing for release. "With me," he pleaded, needing to know he'd brought Nikolai pleasure before giving in to his own orgasm.

The breathless tremor in his lover's voice was almost enough to shatter Nikolai's fragile control. Sweat dripped down his heaving chest, his heels digging into the mattress as he ground onto Orlando in short, choppy jabs that stimulated him until he could feel the blood boiling in his veins. His muscles rippled savagely, his cock jerking in his lover's fist as his orgasm tore through him, blinding in its intensity. Shouting his Orlik's name, he stiffened and shuddered as his seed splashed their joined bodies, each constrictive wave squeezing the adamant shaft that impaled him.

He had been wrong, Orlando realized in the second before his orgasm hit him. There was a more alluring sight then Nikolai riding him: Nikolai coming apart atop him, face contorted with ecstasy, stole his breath. Then his own climax hit him, exploding through him with the force of a thousand suns. His vision greyed out despite his struggle to keep his focus on his lover's face.

His breath gasping from his lungs, Nikolai's gaze slowly focused on his lover with the clarity of the sun burning away the fog. Orlando's eyes were closed, his face slack with repletion, mouth red and swollen from their kisses. Bending forward with care, Nikolai joined their lips in a slow kiss, until the tumid lips stirred against his. Mindful of his lover's injuries, he began to move to one side, but Orlando's hands grasped at his hips, holding him in place. He settled on his forearms and brushed the damp curls from Orlando's forehead, leaving his fingers tangled in the lush hair, one more connection between them.

"Stay," Orlando murmured, knowing it was impossible, but wanting it nonetheless. He wasn't ready to have the newly forged bonds between them tested. Not quite yet. The time would come, and far too soon, when the reality of their lives would force Nikolai from his arms, his bed, and back to the vory, but Orlando hoped to delay that moment as long as possible, to live in the fantasy where Nikolai was his and he was Nikolai's, free from any outside fears. He tightened his grip on his lover, as if the strength of his embrace could somehow insulate them from the dangers that still threatened. Despite Nikolai's insistence that Kirill was no longer a threat, Orlando knew it would be a long time before he let his guard down again outside of anywhere completely secure, and the more time they spent together, the greater the risk that the other vor would find out about them. The excuse of paying him off would endanger him worse than the truth of their relationship if the other bosses discovered them. Orlando had no illusions left, but at the moment, he found he truly didn't care. He needed Nikolai too much to let him go, regardless of the danger to both of them. And now that he knew Nikolai felt the same, nothing would keep him from his lover for long.

"Da," Nikolai answered, no more ready than Orlando for this moment of communion to end. He settled his weight slowly atop the cherished body below him, storing the memory of the warm press of their flesh along every surface of their bodies that could touch. He knew he would have to leave soon or risk exacerbating Kirill's jealousy, but he pushed that concern from his mind. Kirill, the vory, his revenge, the danger the two of them faced simply by being together – none of that would be allowed to intrude on this time. He could make no promises beyond these stolen moments, but while they lasted, nothing existed in his world but Orlando. "Da," he repeated softly. "I will stay."