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I don't sleep well unless I'm naked and in bed with someone, sleeping close. Just one of those things that you get used to, I suppose.

...I'm glad my new friend is so accommodating.

It's funny. I still don't know his name. It almost doesn't seem important.

Three years ago, I pestered Viktor until he told me his.

This is really different.

I wonder what will happen if Leshovik finds out.

I wonder if he'll even care.

eyes_adrift: Aryol woke slowly, to warmth and masculinity, the simple, familiar comforts of smooth skin and lean muscle and the lingering smell of sex.

He felt sated, boneless and lazy, disinclined to move.

Slowly, Aryol became aware that while the situation was familiar, the man was not, and then he remembered what had happened.

The stranger, the handsome man with a young face and old eyes, the one who had beckoned to him in the courtyard and drawn him into an alley for what started as quick and dirty handcuffed sex, but had eventually turned into something more.

And now Aryol was here in the man's bed after having spent the night in his arms.

He ached in a gloriously indecent way, and his thighs were sticky, marked by the man's seed.

The knowledge that this man was not Leshovik hit him, and it felt both thrilling and dangerous. He really didn't know the guy, but yet they'd connected last night, touching each other in tenderness, fucking, coming together.

Aryol wondered what it meant.

He didn't know, but he knew this felt good. Close, and secure.

He moved slightly, pressing closer to the man instinctively.

They'd shifted in the night, but still lay together, Aryol half-curled against the man's side, head tucked against his arm, hand splayed across his belly. It felt nice, to be close to someone, even if that person wasn't Leshovik.

Maybe because he wasn't Leshovik.

Maybe because he was - whoever he was. Aryol hadn't caught a name. He wasn't sure if he needed one.

Eyes still closed, he smiled slowly, against the man's skin.

nikanor_liadov: Nika yawned, unconsciously pushing the tumbled sheaf of harvest gold from his eyes.

He opened them slowly, blinking, realizing the room was still dark. A side effect of an interior room and having no windows, he thought, wryly.

His hand moved downward, experimentally, touching the hand that lay across his abdomen.


The soldier. The dark-haired, dark eyed young tough who'd rubbed up wrong against him last night, and he'd let him stay. Stay the night, without even so much as a name.

Liadov sighed, in languid satisfaction.

Things were back to normal.

eyes_adrift: Aryol felt the man shift and move with purpose, brushing his fingertips against Aryol's hand.

That was nice.

He drew in a slow breath, stretching, luxuriating in the feel of of skin against skin. Aryol rubbed his hand against the man's stomach idly, with gentle affection, just enjoying the feel of smooth muscle under his fingers.

The man was in good shape, maybe not Spetsnaz condition, but still trim and firm.

Aryol turned his head to place a drowsy kiss on the man's chest, but felt far too relaxed to do more, at least right then.

"Hi," he murmured.

nikanor_liadov: "Still feeling gregarious, I see," replied Nika softly, with a yawn and a mild smile that warmed his features.

The touch of the stranger's lips against his bare skin was pleasant, and he shifted, turning slightly, into the man, wrapping a long arm around the broad shoulders.

"Muscular bastard you are," he observed, rubbing his jaw along the dome of the soldier's shoulder, feeling the graze of barely visible stubble.

"I always thought the Internal Service kept us in fairly good shape, but you put me to shame."

eyes_adrift: "Oh, you're in good shape," Aryol murmured appreciatively, stroking his hand along the man's stomach, enjoying the play of sleek muscle under his fingertips.

His hand strayed lower after a moment, brushed over the dense thatch that covered the vee of the man's groin. It grew thick and abundant, like the hair on the man's head.

Aryol curled his fingers, idly.

"It's just that sometimes there's nothing to do when you're in Black Ops. Hurry up and wait, you know? So you work out to help pass the time. It gives you something to do. And keeps you focused."

A predator's instincts were dulled with complacency, and lethargy could follow. Aryol grew restless when he read for too long while on a mission, but Leshovik always managed to keep himself primed.

"It's either that, or fuck," Aryol said with a shrug.

He leaned forward, and grazed his lips against the man's neck.

"You taste good," he murmured.

nikanor_liadov: Nika laughed, quietly, shifting, parting his thighs languorously.

The light sensual touch along his netherhair was inexplicably appealing. Decadent.

He could just catch the scent of soft, heavy musk rising between them from the warmth and proximity of their slumber.

"And what do I taste like?"

He raised an eyebrow.

"Nothing like your Black Ops lover, I assume?"

He looked the soldier over slowly, letting his gaze linger baldly on the parts that most intrigued his eyes. Dark eyes, sensual mouth, low, jagged brows and that nose...almost roman, but more refined.

Like his own was tempered Patrician.

Aware he was eyefucking his new comrade and conquest rather shamelessly, and enjoying it, succulent and sinful as it was..

eyes_adrift: Aryol snorted.

"You're nothing like him."

The man's gaze was leisurely and licentious, but appreciative. Aryol liked that, being admired and stared at, liked not being taken for granted as nothing more than a convenient hole.

He shivered as he felt the man's legs ease open against his touch. It was shameless but also a strange declaration of trust, sweetly receptive. Something Leshovik would never do, he thought.

Aryol buried his hand in the thick hair at the man's groin, twining his fingers in the lush pelt, rubbing circular patterns in the skin underneath.

"You taste like liqueur and sex," he said, voice low, soft with husky thickness.

He leaned up to drag his lips across the man's mouth.

"Like sunlight."

nikanor_liadov: "Three of my favorite things," Nika intoned on the edge of his breath, softening his mouth and melting into the slight, brushing kiss. "Well-played."

He closed his eyes, licking his lips gently.

"You...taste like...anise and autumn. And very soft leather."

He let his hand press against the small of the man's back, shadowing the hollow with his palm.

"You want to fuck me, before duty demands we part company?"

eyes_adrift: "Da," Aryol breathed, and paused to run his tongue languorously along the man's lips.

"I'd like that, comrade."

He moved his hand down, encircling the man's cock with gentle fingers, stroking from base to tip, letting his thumb linger on the glans. His touch was entirely unhurried, slow and lingering, like a perfect early morning at the range, when you were just on with every shot, without trying.

Effortless and easy.

"Tell me how you like it," he murmured.

He trailed still-drowsy kisses across the man's jaw, licked salt at the hollow of his throat.

"I'll go slow. It'll be nice."

nikanor_liadov: "Close," Nika said, lightly, shifting so that the soldier lay over him, pleasingly heavy and musclebound, even for his leanness. "Deep. Firm. And..."

He paused to play his smooth lips along the stranger's prickled jawline.


That was how a fuck before noon should be. Indolent pleasure and utter physical surrender.

"Just follow your instincts," he breathed, snaking his thighs around the soldier's hard waist, letting his calves cross over the soldier's contoured buttocks. "And you'll please us both at once."

eyes_adrift: "Sounds perfect," Aryol murmured.

A slow, hot fuck in a stranger's arms sounded wonderful to him, exactly right for his mood. He arched, pleased by the sensual lock of legs and hips around his waist, an embrace that felt decadent, intimate.

He brought his mouth to the man's and kissed him like he wanted to be fucked, deep and thorough and languid. The man seemed to appreciate kissing in a way that Leshovik didn't, so he took his time with it, lips tender against that soft, sensitive mouth, tongue gentle and caressing.

Aryol braced himself on his forearms, but let his weight press the man into the mattress, rocking slowly as they kissed, shifting with the slightest of motions, the intimation and promise of sex.

He grew hard as he moved, his prick flushing hot and arching upward, occasionally brushing against the man's buttocks.

Each caress of skin against skin flooded him with warmth, but he was in no hurry. Aryol had sated himself the night before, coming hard twice, and he knew he could make this last now.

nikanor_liadov: For a moment when Liadov paused to moan softly, he had the strangest thought of Captain Irinarhov, several nights before, and he frowned, but pushed it from his mind.

The memory guilted him, reminded him that he had yet to apologize- and yet Kasya had been stupid and stubborn, hadn't he, when it could have been like this.

Like this. The subtle, menacing promise of penetration, hovering behind the easy graze of the young soldier's body, skimming low over his own.

The kissing, savoring, and he swore he could taste himself on the tongue of the man, despite the long night that should have effaced such indecent sensuous souvenirs.

The scent of idle masculinity at play. Unhurried, hasteless, breathless.

Old dogs didn't like to turn new tricks, Nika thought, vaguely, as he teased the lobe of the soldier's ear with his teeth.

But young ones seemed receptive and playful enough.

He wondered why he'd even thought of the sullen, petrified sniper at a moment like this, and found it did him no favors.

But this one...this one was nothing like that.

"It's been some time since I've hosted," Nika murmured, "if you understand me. The slicking liquid is in the drawer, inches away. Just reach your hand inside, there..."

He breathed out, rapt.

"Da, there too."

eyes_adrift: Aryol made a low, pleased sound in the back of his throat. He let his lips linger on the man's throat for several long moments before easing back. He was in no rush, though the talk of penetration stirred his blood.

"It's all right," he whispered, and reached around, touching a finger to the soft puckered skin of the man's opening, caressing the ring of muscle. "I'll go slow. I host all the time. I know what it's like."

He smiled at the man, his gaze low-lidded and affectionate.

Gently, Aryol put his hands on the man's thighs, nudging them outward, encouraging the man to part their grip around his waist.

"Let me go for a little bit. I'll do something nice for you."

nikanor_liadov: Liadov slatted his gaze, gamely easing the stricture of his legs, reaching upward to grip the topmost bar of the headboard, casually and subtly removing his arms from the equation.

"All right," he purred, low in his throat. "Show me how nice you can be."

eyes_adrift: Aryol chuckled, low and soft.

He leaned to open the drawer first, retrieving the man's tin of lube, setting it aside for the moment. They would need it later, but not now.

With gentle hands he pushed the man's legs back, tilting them up above his body, easing his thighs apart wider.

"Like this," he murmured as he lay between the man's legs, dipping his head low. "Just lean back and relax."

Aryol remembered the way Lynx had touched him, licked his most sensitive places, how delicate those sensations had been. How his pleasure had bloomed, sweet and exquisite, as Lynx's tongue had explored his opening.

He'd been wanting to try it on someone ever since.

Aryol held the man's legs up and apart, leaning in to brush his tongue to the soft furrowed skin of the intimate entrance experimentally, the contact light and fleeting.

nikanor_liadov: "You sick little thug," whispered Nika, half-laughing, half-moaning. His back arched, and he offered himself further into the soldier's grasp, savoring the tingling blush of the stranger's tongue-tip against the ruching petals of the hidden rose. "I think I love you. Make me want it, krasivchik, just like that."

The guy's eagerness was compelling, made it visceral and primal, but intimate and masculine as well. Comrades languishing in morning debauchery, as only men could with one another.

Nika felt himself beginning to want it, the need swelling inside him, along with his prick, which crowned the rising rhythm of his body.

He wanted to wind his hands into the sleek black mane between his thighs, but kept his hands where they lay, adamant that things not take on a life of their own.

"Ah, yes," he hissed, sweetly. "No mercy. Stab me deep, Black Eyes."

eyes_adrift: Aryol's heart thrilled at the way the man talked to him, goading and ardent. It seemed to Aryol that the man must not get enough sex, and so he savored any contact, instead of taking it for granted.

His touch became bolder, swirling his tongue around the man's opening, licking and wetting, testing the ring of muscle. This was all new to him, forbidden and exciting, and he shivered, murmuring low noises, laughing in sheer delight, lips vibrating against soft skin.

He wanted to do what Lynx had done to him, to plunge his tongue into the man's depths and make him writhe. It had been one of the most intense and beautiful sexual experiences he'd ever had, but it had ended all too quickly.

It made him shiver to remember it, and his hands tightened reflexively on the man's thighs.

He pulled back, but only for a moment.

"For you," he whispered, then dipped his head down to the man's entrance again.

Aryol's tongue flicked deeper, pressing inside, his lips hot and eager. He shivered, pressing his face closer, working at the man's pleasure more intently. Stab him deep, the man had said, and Aryol tried it, pushing the length of his tongue inside.

nikanor_liadov: Liadov hissed, speared through with rapture, localized and indecent.

His stomach muscles tremored beneath the soldier's resting hand, his thighs shuddered appreciatively.

It took a special kind of man to appreciate the finesse of such obscene pleasures, how aesthetic and divine the most vulgar notions could become in commission.

He writhed gently, feeling the slick, soft firmness questing gently at the threshold of his core.

"Yes, like that," he cooed, letting his eyes drift, as his lips trembled.

eyes_adrift: Aryol shuddered, encouraged by the man's response. His tongue strokes became bolder and more daring, and he ground his face against the firm but soft skin, pressing closer, thrusting deeper.

His cock was like flint, hard and pulsing, and it wept and splattered moisture against his belly with every motion. He was eager and ready to fuck the man, but first, Aryol wanted to drive him wild.

He was merciless, the way Lynx had been with him, piercing the man again and again, working him over. It felt naughty to do this, the last forbidden pleasure, one of the only remaining taboos to cross.

Aryol worked at the man for as long and as hard as he could until he had to pull back for air, gasping and shuddering, pressing his face against the man's inner thigh.

He shivered, fighting for breath.

"God, I want to break you," he whispered, raw lips hot on the man's skin.

nikanor_liadov: "Strike, baby," Liadov snarled hotly, wrapping his fingers into the soldier's ashen mane. "Split me open like the earth."

His whole body burned to be possessed, broken down into shuddering fragments, and rebuilt on a raging fuck, the kind Lasha had pled and battered his willpower to enact-

But there was no Lasha anymore, no promise of sweet ruin at those unkind hands and heartless, adoring eyes.

Only this dark and intoxicating journeyman killer, with his bold and succulent brutality.

"Burn me deep, scorch me, tattoo me. I'll wear your name like a curse."

eyes_adrift: "You won't even remember it," Aryol hissed in response, pulling back and grabbing the tin, wrenching it open with a vicious twist. He slicked himself with a hand that shook with barely-restrained desire, made his throbbing prick wet and glistening.

His motion was decisive, and he covered the man's body with his own, pushing his thighs wider, bracing an arm, guiding himself to the man's entrance.

He stopped short of slamming in but instead paused deliberately, glans to cleft, leaning forward, grinding the slick tip against the yielding muscle, pressing just hard enough to make it feel inevitable.

Still, he waited, pressing more ever slowly downward, not out of courtesy but rather slow torture, threatening him with penetration without actually pushing in, letting him writhe on the brink of surrender.

nikanor_liadov: Nika laughed, in spite of himself, feverish and low.

"I don't even know it."

He exhaled at the glancing intrusion of the tip, which hinted broadly at the widening flesh behind it, seizing the stranger's hair tighter.

"Christ. Da, make me wish I did."

eyes_adrift: Aryol pushed in then, all one smooth, slow, merciless motion, seating himself deep, pausing, exhaling, sinking flush inside. The man was narrow and hot around him, and he held that pose, braced like a gymnast poised to follow through with the next exercise.

His body quivered once in anticipation of what was to come, but then he rocked his hips firmly, decisively, pressing as deep as he could go.

He wondered at this man, seemingly so genteel, but with gloriously depraved appetites. Only a man who wanted it badly could appreciate it this much, could give himself so fully to sensation. The man was responsive, almost uncannily so, a live wire sparking under Aryol's touch.

Aryol rocked deep and hard, pressing his hips into the man's with aching slowness. It could have been fast and frenzied, but Aryol kept it deliberately unhurried, savoring every low, grinding motion.

He leaned in, brought his arms around and held the man close, dipping his head to kiss the man's neck as he thrust.

nikanor_liadov: "Yes," ground out Nika, in a low and guttural subtone, welcoming the invasion with succor, letting his thighs curve up and around the soldier's trembling back.

The soldier pushed into him, roughness mediated by slickness, and then he was inside, and Nika was penetrated, impaled by the hard, bare cock of a stranger he'd first laid eyes on only hours ago.

He kept on hand wrapped around the bar of the bed, bracing against the thrusts, giving the beautiful bastard more leverage to fuck him slowly into the mattress.

His other arm curved around to hold his anonymous comrade, hand reaching lower, venturing into taboo territory, and stroking the stranger's asshole lightly with a taped fingertip.

"Ever been fucked while you fuck, Black Eyes?" he whispered, closing his own at the touch of fevered lips against his throat.

"...It's phenomenal."

eyes_adrift: "God. Do it," Aryol breathed, back arching, shivering at the thought of the man pushing his fingers inside him.

He reached around to find the tin and pressed it into the man's hand, then resumed the consuming, devouring kisses across the man's neck, drawing in the heady and masculine scent of him.

"Penetrate me," he murmured. "I want you inside while I'm inside you."

There was something perfect and consuming about that, like the snake that ate its own tail. They could be one.

His spine arched, and he continued to rock deep, every press grinding the man down into his bed. Aryol dragged his lips up to the man's jaw, breathless, kisses lingering closer to his mouth.

nikanor_liadov: "Too bad we don't have another cock on hand, Black Eyes. You would take it, wouldn't you?"

Nika kissed him passionately through a languid, hedonist smile.

His breathing jagged softly with each respiration. The waves of pleasure from the stranger's skillful fucking made him feel inebriated and warmed.

Liadov slicked his fingers carefully, one-handed, and slipped two of them in with a slow twisting motion, with no trouble offered by the soldier's body, which was supple and malleable in mid-fuck, amenable to many things.

He pressed in, rubbing circles into the springy-soft texture of the gland that lay coyly beyond the inner wall, as if coaxing, beckoning.

"Spread your thighs. Fuck me in a crouch, so I can finger your ass, krasivchik."

eyes_adrift: Aryol laughed.

"I'd do a lot of things," he said, meeting the man's gaze, eyes gleaming dark with promise.

He closed his eyes for a moment, savoring the man's touch, shifting as he had suggested, re-positioning himself easily to settle into poised crouch.

Aryol spread his legs wider, relaxed, open, and offering.

His ass tightened and flexed as he resumed the deep and even strokes, only this time counterpoint to every thrust was the feel of the man's fingers stroking him from within.

Each supple arch of his spine drew sparks that shot through him, stole the breath from his throat and made his toes curl.

Aryol shuddered, his strokes quickening and deepening through sheer instinct, driven by sheer pleasure.

"Christ, you feel good," he breathed, torn away on ragged breaths. "Perfect."

nikanor_liadov: "I'm close to orgasm, Black Eyes. I'm going to spatter your belly and chest with my seed."

Nika let his tongue flick at the edges of the stranger's mouth, succulent and seeking.

"Just look at you," he whispered, indolent, his voice labored with the promise of imminent ecstasy. "Just like a fucking machine. Work those thighs, comrade. Make me limp today."

eyes_adrift: Aryol shuddered, arching, redoubling his efforts.

He was close himself, but wanted to see the man come before he did. Wanted to see the man's expression the moment orgasm took him, to watch the rawness of euphoria burn across his features. There was no disguising then the essence of a man's pleasure, the essence of a man.

"Come hard," he growled. "Come for me."

He thrust into the man with sudden violence, particular deep and grinding force.

"I want to watch you," he bit out, between gasped breaths.

He took up the gauntlet the man had thrown down, fucked him harder and more ruthlessly, hips pumping, acutely conscious of the weight and breadth of the man's fingers inside him, stretching and stroking.

Aryol wanted to catch that full and sensual mouth in a savage kiss, but held his head back, eyes fierce and dark, focused on the man's face.

nikanor_liadov: Liadov did as requested.

Not as if he'd had much of a choice in the matter when that last brutal thrust pegged him where he lived.

He threw back his head and gave a hedonist scream of pure physical joy, body arching taut and lionlike, cock arcing heated white in a thrilling rush of battery and combustion.

Feeling himself shoot against the stranger's abdomen, daubing him with organic slickness, savoring the report, open mouthed, as his body convulsed and sang.

He breathed raggedly, eyes bright with vigor and rocked by shuddering aftershocks.

"You," he managed, working his fingers roughly inside the stranger, "show me how you take your pleasure."

eyes_adrift: Aryol gasped at the breathtaking hedonism of the man's climax, the utter lack of inhibition. It was pleasure in its purest, rawest form, and it felt like a revelation.

He tremored on the edge, close and brimming, and with the man's goading words he leaned forward and brought their mouths together, stealing breath with an indrawn gasp.

The taste and texture of the man's mouth flooded him with warmth and at that moment his body peaked and convulsed.

He unloaded within the man, inside the sweet, tight passage that yielded, then clenched with a dizzying pressure.

Aryol tore his mouth away in the next moment, crying out low and tight, head thrown back and brows furrowed, body trembling, the expression on his face lending his features a sudden youth and vulnerability.

He shuddered, open-mouthed and gasping, but then bent his head to simply take in breath, shoulders heaving.

"Oh god," he managed, eyes still closed but entire body hypersensitive, aware of the man underneath him, "that was beautiful. Thank you, comrade."

nikanor_liadov: Liadov's eyes closed as he chased his breath, and his hands grasped, fumbling gently for the soldier's dark locks, to wend his fingers into them in soothing firmness.

"There, there," he murmured, senselessly.

It seemed the thing to say to a younger lover, even if he'd just fucked you insensate, rode you into oblivion, perched carnally like a satyr astride your loins.

Even if that lover was a stranger with hard black eyes of obsidian that could go liquid at a moment's notice, molten as his own were treacherous.

"Beauty knows beauty," he said, laconic.

He pressed a kiss to the stranger's temple, as an afterthought.

eyes_adrift: Aryol made a soft, low noise, a pleased and blissful murmur. He bent his head, accepting the man's tenderness, savoring the affection.

He didn't know this man, not really, but found it warmed him nonetheless, to share this closeness.

Every time he took a man, or took a man inside him, there was always a certain level of intimacy that came with naked skin.

But with this man, there was a deeper need that was met than just the grinding of flesh. Two souls that had been walking alone in a tundra had found warmth in each other.

Aryol caught his breath after long moments, and slowly raised his head. His eyes were drowsy and low-lidded, opiate with pleasure.

He leaned forward to give the man a proper kiss, sweet and slow.

His loins still throbbed, tapering off gently, body flushed and crisp with endorphins.

Aryol licked his lips, still savoring the man's taste, mouth curving upward into a smug and sated grin.

"That was great," he said, shaking his head, cocking it after a moment. "You're a depraved bastard, aren't you?" he asked, and his shoulders shook with laughter. "You talk so dirty when you're fucking. I like that."

nikanor_liadov: Nika's lip curled at once into an insolent smile, with just a touch of diffidence.

"I'm a little dented in this department, I'll acknowledge."

Yes, he had a remarkably filthy form of expression, for someone with his pedigree. He found that made it even more wanton, somehow.

"But then, it isn't as if you're a paragon of piety yourself, are you?"

He laughed, softly, feeling the pleasant bittersweet throb, and the after-ache of orgasm.

eyes_adrift: Aryol chucked. "Guess not."

He drew in a breath, stretching, carefully easing back. He waited for his prick to soften further, then slipped out gently.

He sat back between the man's legs, reaching out to rub them idly.

"That was really nice," he murmured. "You really know what you're doing."

He had fucked a lot of men and knew from experience that the sensitive ones were best. Like this man, though his unflinching depravity almost masked it.

After a few moments, he cocked his head, curiously.

"You must get in a lot of practice."

nikanor_liadov: Nika lowered his eyes, laughing softly, hesitant.

"Once upon a time, not too long ago, I did," he said, vaguely. "And they say that practice makes perfect. Cliches aside."

He raised his gaze, venturing a slight smile, barely there.

"Not that you batted an eye during any of my suggestions...what kind of man are you?"

eyes_adrift: Aryol shrugged, and then smiled, lopsidedly.

"I've fucked a lot of men. Especially when I was younger. They were a bunch of gray-haired perverts. I got used to anything."

He raised his arms and locked them behind his head, stretching back, luxuriating in the relaxed, spent play of muscles turned warm and loose by orgasm.

Aryol regarded the man, his gaze tempered and knowing.

"But it's been a while, since then."

nikanor_liadov: Liadov made a face, repulsed on the soldier's behalf.

"God," he said. "I don't want to be one of that litany."

He was uneasy, now, at the thought that he might have simply enacted his needs on this man, and that perhaps it was not the equitable meeting of perversions he'd surmised.

"I still have my boots on, don't I," he realized, with a wry raise of his brow.

eyes_adrift: Aryol laughed, glancing down at the man's boots.

"Yeah, but that's kinky," he said, voice rough and husked with pleasure.

He shook his head. "You have nothing to worry about, comrade."

Aryol planted a hand against the headboard, craning his head over the man's, leaning close.

He brushed his lips against the other man's brow, tasted salt with the tip of his tongue.

Pulling back slightly, he met the man's eyes with a low, simmering gaze.

"You don't have a single gray hair," he murmured, then grinned, wolfishly.

nikanor_liadov: "No," murmured Nika. "Nor do you."

He paused, considering the stranger, running a finger down his chest like a man admiring a thoroughbred.

"Can I assume this scenario might repeat itself, given our proximity?"

eyes_adrift: Aryol nodded, his manner shifting, solemn and intent.

"I'd like that," he said.

He paused, weighing his words, wondering what would be too much. Aryol knew what he wanted, but wasn't sure of the man.

After a few moments of hesitation, he just shook his head wryly, and raised a brow.

"Tonight?" Aryol asked softly, and leaned closer.

nikanor_liadov: "Yes," replied Nika, equally softly. "Tonight."

He caressed the soldier's strong, lean thigh on the soft inner cove.

"Be a stranger," he added, insolently dry.


long hair

February 2009

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