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It is with great displeasure that Mitya has discovered there is something considerably worse than being followed around by Valeriy, and that is not being followed around by Valeriy. The revelation is embarrassing enough that he has spent the better part of an hour pretending it has not occurred to him, which is the longest amount of time he’s spent being off-task in quite some time.
His room in the Armory Palace is unusually quiet. Ordinarily, Mitya likes the quiet, as it means no supervisors, committee members, or soldiers bothering him when he’s trying to work. More importantly, it means no particular security guard materializing under the doorways. Tonight, however, the quiet upsets him.
He’s opened his notebook three times and has written exactly six words. Two of them are “Valeriy,” which is wholly unreasonable for a man of great reason like Mitya. “Ridiculous,” he mutters to himself, wishing he could be more productive.
Naturally, before he even gets the chance to, somebody knocks at his door, making Mitya go perfectly still.
“If this is about the incident report, I’m nearly finished,” he lies.
When the door opens and Valeriy steps inside, Mitya’s heart performs a maneuver that is unrecognizable to him.
There’s nothing particularly remarkable about the sight. Valeriy is still Valeriy with his immaculate uniform, straight-backed posture, and composed expression. He looks the same way he’s looked every time he’s retrieved Mitya from somewhere he ought not to be.
The difference is that Mitya’s now seen him dead. When he saw Valeriy in his chair beneath the theater’s ghostly light entirely still, he almost looked peaceful because there was no longer anything left for him to worry about.
“Valeriy.” Mitya leans back in his chair. “Shouldn’t you be resting? I’m fairly certain dying entitles a man to at least one night off.”
Valeriy, of course, completely ignores that. “You’ve been avoiding me,” he says.
“I have not.” Mitya drops his notebook on the desk.
“You left the debriefing seventeen seconds after I entered the room,” Valeriy points out.
Mitya scoffs. “I had work.”
“You remained in the western laboratory for nearly two hours without conducting any work. Then, you took a route back to your room that added approximately eleven minutes to your journey because it avoided the main corridor.
“Have you considered,” Mitya says, “that keeping records of another man’s walking habits might be considered unsettling?”
“I am responsible for your personal safety.” Valeriy uses the same annoying tone that Mitya’s become far too familiar with.
He picks up a pen off his desk and points it at Valeriy. “And here I was worrying that death had changed you.”
Something shifts in Valeriy’s expression as he asks, “do you remember?”
There are a dozen things he could be referring to, yet Mitya knows exactly what. Still, he decides to play coy a bit. “More than everybody besides the Traveler,” he says. “What about you?”
“I remember fragments.” Valeriy hums. “Some are clearer than others.”
“Hopefully you’ve forgotten anything embarrassing I said,” Mitya rushes out, his stomach tightening. “Extreme circumstances and supernatural interference lead to diminished judgement, after all.”
“You called me your friend,” Valeriy plainly says.
The confirmation of what Mitya feared makes his face go hot. Of course, of all the things, of every conversation, every argument, and every moment in that cursed theater, that is what survives.”
“Well,” he replies, “there’s no accounting for what a man might say in the throes of grief.”
“You said your life would be duller without you,” Valeriy continues.
“Recounting a man’s private mourning back to him seems cruel,” Mitya deflects.
“You believed I was dead.” Valeriy takes one step closer. “You thought I was gone.”
Mitya nods. “Yes.”
“And you were upset.”
“Don’t seem so pleased about it,” Mitya shouts.
“I’m not pleased,” Valeriy says, though his smile betrays him. He comes closer again until only the corner of the desk separates him and Mitya.
This is just absurd. He’s spent months making sport of this man, slipping away from escorts, inventing detours, and testing precisely how far Valeriy’s patience can be stretched before it snaps. He has treated Valeriy’s relentless presence as though it were a law of nature — the sun rises every morning, snow falls in Snezhnaya, and Valeriy will always be there to drag him back to work.
It never occurred to Mitya that one morning the sun might rise and Valeriy might not.
“I took you for granted, alright?”
Valeriy doesn’t say anything.
“You were always there,” Mitya continues, frantically pacing around his room. “It was constant and irritating. Every time I slipped out, there you were. Every time I got five minutes to myself, I could feel you looming somewhere behind me like—”
“I do not loom,” Valeriy cuts him off.
“You absolutely do.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Mitya.”
“Yes, yes,” he groans. “The point is, Valeriy, wherever I went, I knew you’d always come.” Mitya laughs once, without humor. “I never even thought about it. I knew I could run because you’d follow. I knew I could do something stupid because you’d already planned for it. I could complain about you ruining all my fun because it never occurred to me that one day I might actually look around and—”
Again, Valeriy interrupts. “I wouldn’t be there.”
Mitya sighs. He’s correct, of course.
“Look at me,” he says.
Mitya turns his head. “No.”
“Mitya.”
He crosses his arms. “You’re abusing your authority now.”
“Look at me.”
When Mitya does, Valeriy is closer than he expects, so close that he has to tip his chin up to talk to him.
“You are,” Valeriy starts, “an exceptionally difficult man to keep alive.”
A laugh escapes Mitya’s lips before he can stop it.
“You constantly disregard orders,” the other man continues. “You vanish without informing people and interfere with military schedules. You deliberately provoke me at any opportunity.”
“Only because it’s so entertaining,” Mitya says.
“And despite all of that,” Valery whispers, “when I believed there was danger, I never once considered leaving you behind.”
Mitya opens his mouth, expecting a clever comeback to fall out, but it never does. Valeriy’s fingers close softly around Mitya’s wrist. He looks down at the gloved hand around him, then slowly back up to meet Valeriy’s gaze.
“I know,” Mitya admits.
Valeriy takes a second to study Mitya. “How much?”
Mitya blinks. “What?”
“You said you missed me,” Valeriy pries.
“I did not say that.”
“You have spent the last five minutes saying exactly that.”
“That’s an offensively simplistic interpretation of a nuanced emotional confession,” Mitya sneers.
A hint of a smile briefly curls on Valeriy’s lips. “How much did you miss me, Mitya?”
“Why?” Mitya feels his pulse kick, and of course, Valeriy notices.
“Show me,” he whispers.
Mitya stares at him as the room becomes very quiet. “Oh,” he says eventually. “Is that an order?”
Before Valeriy can answer, Mitya catches the front of his uniform and pulls him down.
The kiss is far less dignified than either of them would later admit. Mitya thought Valeriy would be more restrained, but he only is for about four seconds. Then, his hand catches behind Mitya’s neck, which makes him make a startled sound against his mouth.
Valeriy pulls back just enough to say, “Still find me boring?”
“I have never once accused you of being boring,” Mitya whines.
“You implied it repeatedly.”
“I said you needed hobbies.”
“And yet,” Valeriy whispers, “you have made me one of yours.”
He kisses Mitya again, harder this time.
By the time they separate, he’s backed against his desk, breathing less elegantly than he would prefer while Valeriy’s hand remains at his waist. Mitya notices Valeriy’s loosened collar and the slight disorder of his uniform. He sees how Valeriy is breathing harder too, however determined he might be to conceal it.
Mitya grins. “Oh, this is just excellent.”
“So you’re enjoying yourself.” Valeriy’s eyes narrow.
“Immensely,” Mitya quickly says. “Do you have any idea how satisfying it is to discover that underneath all those regulations you’re actually—”
Valeriy catches Mitya’s chin. “You said you missed me,” he repeats.
“I did,” Mitya finally admits.
“I want you to show me just how much.”
Mitya stares at him. This time there’s no misunderstanding what Valeriy is suggesting. His gaze drops deliberately toward Valeriy’s face before returning to his face.
“Is this still a part of ensuring my personal safety?”
Valeriy merely shrugs before Mitya lowers himself to his knees. He deliberately undoes enough of Valeriy’s uniform to make his intention obvious, and looks up at him one final time.
“You’re allowed to say no,” Valeriy says.
“I don’t intend to.” Mitya pulls down Valeriy’s pants and underwear, taking his cock in his hand.
As he lowers his mouth, his other hand braced against Valeriy’s thigh, Mitya realizes that what he wants most out of him is a reaction. From down here, he somehow seems even more imposing than usual, his shoulders squared, his jaw tight, and his eyes fixed steadily downward.
Mitya has spent months trying to crack that expression and it appears he’s finally found the correct methodology.
Yet, when he starts to move his mouth up and down Valeriy’s shaft, he gives Mitya nothing. His fingers have settled into Mitya’s hair, not directing him so much as holding on, but that’s all.
Mitya slows deliberately and looks up to see Valeriy staring down at him.
“What?” Valeriy asks.
Mitya cannot find the words, but his raised eyebrow communicates his dissatisfaction pretty well.
“I see.” Valeriy’s mouth twitches.
Mitya smiles. “This is a challenge now.”
Valeriy sighs. “You’re ridiculous.”
Hearing that only makes Mitya more determined. He resumes what he was doing with considerably more attention than before. If Valeriy is so insistent on treating most things in his life like an exercise in discipline, then Mitya can treat this like an experiment.
Mitya pays close attention as continues to work Valeriy’s cock, noticing what movements make his fingers tighten into his hair. He notices when the man’s breathing catches instead of just deepening and when his other hand, which had been planted rigidly against the desk, eventually curls around its edge as his cock hardens.
Mitya glances upward again.
Valeriy immediately sees the satisfaction in his face. “Don’t.”
Mitya pauses for just a moment, then continues to suck Valeriy’s cock.
“You’re enjoying this far too much,” Valeriy says.
Mitya makes an indistinct sound of agreement as Valeriy’s hand tightens in his hair, a shiver running down Mitya’s spine. His eyes flick upward and for one suspended moment, him and Valeriy simply stare at one another.
Then, Valeriy deliberately slides his fingers deeper into Mitya’s curls and holds him more firmly. Mitya’s breath hitches around Valeriy’s cock as he doubles his efforts, feeling how Valeriy’s composure begins disappearing in increments so small that anyone less attentive might have missed.
Mitya, of course, misses nothing. Not the slight flex of Valeriy’s thigh beneath his hand, the increasingly uneven rise and fall of his chest, and the moment his head tips backward as he attempts to suppress a low sound, a rope of come betraying him.
Mitya’s heart throbs. Immediately, he wants that again.
He keeps working Valeriy’s cock until his hand is no longer merely resting in his hair but gripping it. The carefully controlled breaths above him have become distinctly rougher and Valeriy’s come has practically filled Mitya’s mouth.
“M-Mitya.” His name comes out so unlike Valeriy’s usual measured voice that Mitya nearly stops from sheer satisfaction.
He looks up to see that Valeriy’s restraint has fractured completely. His cheeks are faintly flushed and his collar is open. His breathing is ragged enough that even he could no longer pretend otherwise.
Mitya’s eyes brighten. “Got you.”
“You little—”
Mitya responds by lightly pursing his lips around the tip of Valeriy’s cock. The sensation catches him so completely by surprise that whatever remained of his sentence disappears into a harsh breath, which just makes Mitya laugh.
He decides that he has finally won.
By the time Valeriy draws him back onto his feet, Mitya’s knees are protesting, his hair is a complete disaster from Valeriy’s hands, and his face is warm with exertion. Despite his numerous contributions to Project Mistilteinn, Mitya doesn’t think he’s ever been this pleased with himself.
He steadies himself by catching Valeriy’s shoulders, Valeriy’s hands immediately closing around his waist. For a moment, neither says anything, and Mitya just innocently grins.
“There,” he says, slightly breathless. “That’s how much I missed you.”
As Valeriy stares at him, Mitya’s grin slowly becomes uncertain.
“What?” Mitya squints.
Valeriy’s thumb brushes slowly across the corner of Mitya’s mouth. The gesture wipes the smugness off Mitya’s face more effectively than any reprimand ever has. “You think you’re finished?”
Mitya’s heart races. “Oh.”
Valeriy straightens MItya’s collar. “You know, you’ve still spent months making me chase you.”
Mitya swallows. “Well.”
“You’ve escaped through widows–”
“That was only one time!”
“It was twice,” Valeriy says. “You’ve disappeared from secured laboratories.”
“I was just testing the security procedures,” Mitya argues.
Valeriy steps forward which makes Mitya step back
“You’ve led me halfway across Snezhnograd just because you wanted lunch from one particular restaurant.”
“To be fair,” Mitya starts, “their pirozhki are exceptional.”
Another step forward and suddenly, Mitya’s back touches the desk. Valeriy again places his hands on either side of him and Mitya suddenly becomes aware that this is the first time in their entire relationship that Valeriy has cornered him and Mitya has absolutely no desire whatsoever to escape.
Valeriy seems to realize the same thing. “I find myself wondering whether you intend to run away from me now.”
Mitya reaches behind himself and locks the door. “No.”
Valeriy kisses him with passion. Mitya’s back strikes the desk as the man crowds closer, and catches at his shoulders with both hands. Valeriy moves down the line of Mitya’s jaw and he tips his head automatically.
“You know,” he murmurs, “for somebody whose primary personality trait is restraint—”
Valeriy kisses the spot beneath his ear, making his sentence poof into thin air. Then, Valeriy lifts Mitya away from the desk with ease and walks him backward until his legs strike the mattress.
He sits while Valeriy remains standing between his knees. For once, the difference in position shuts Mitya up. Valeriy brushes his knuckles against Mitya’s cheek with a tenderness that makes his chest ache.
Naturally, Mitya ruins the moment and says, “Well? You’ve caught me.”
Something changes in Valeriy’s expression as he bends toward Mitya. “Are you asking me to do something about that?”
Mitya’s mouth goes dry. “Yes.”
“Be more specific.” Valeriy searches his face.
“That is deeply unfair.” Mitya stares at him.
“I want to hear you say what you want.” Of course he does.
“Valeriy.”
“Mitya,” Valeriy says in a way that makes Mitya realize just how hot his own name sounds coming from Valeriy’s mouth.
He can feel his face burning as he mutters, “I want you to fuck me.”
Valeriy doesn’t move. “What?”
“Oh, you heard me.”
“You’ll have to say it again. I want to be certain my ears still work.
“I said.” Mitya glares at him then reaches up, grabbing the front of Valeriy’s uniform and pulling him closer. “I want you to fuck me.”
Valeriy’s eyes darken. “Good.”
Mitya barely has time to process the word before Valeriy kisses him again and eases him backward onto the bed. He had anticipated Valeriy becoming less orderly once given permission like this, but instead he is more so. Every new touch is deliberate and as he undresses Mitya, he folds his clothes in a neat pile on his nightstand.
Valeriy positions Mitya closely at the end of the bed, keeping one hand firmly at Mitya’s waist while the other remains intertwined with his.
“Are you alright?” Valeriy asks.
“Yes.” Mitya squeezes his fingers impatiently. If Valeriy continues at this pace, Mitya’s going to embarrass himself by coming untouched. “Although, if this is representative of how you approach everything in your life, I suddenly understand why doing your paperwork takes so long.”
Valeriy grins then spits into his hands and rubs them up and down his cock in a way that’s so nonchalant, Mitya has no choice but to shut up. He then hops onto the bed and positions himself behind Mitya before spreading his ass and slowly entering him.
For some reason it didn’t occur to Mitya just how large Valeriy is when his cock was in his mouth, but as he feels it fill him, the realization hits him like a slap in the face. It’s so intense, Mitya’s nails dig into the mattress and he squirms.
Unfortunately, that makes Valeriy stop, which was very much not the intention. “Is something wrong?”
“No,” Mitya groans. “It’s just big, that’s all.”
“You didn’t have a problem with that when it was in your mouth five minutes ago,” Valeriy remarks.
“I still don’t have a problem with it now, so keep going,” Mitya rushes out as Valeriy continues to lower himself. Mitya catches himself sweating as Valeriy pushes into him until finally, he has decided he’s in deep enough.
He sways his hips back and forth, his cock stroking against Mitya’s prostate whilst his head falls forward into the pillow.
Mitya can feel himself melting into the bed, and he doesn’t even want to think about how hard his own cock is right now, all while he can feel Valeriy’s gaze on his back. At one point, the other man drags his nails down Mitya’s spine, then whispers in his ear, “so beautiful.”
“You bastard,” Mitya says in response, though he can feel his heart sinking down to his ass.
Valeriy puts one of his arms in front of the bed, like he’s begging for Mitya to use it as a scratching post. His nails nearly tear through Valeriy’s jacket as he grabs onto it, his legs shaking.
Noticing this, Valeriy repeats the last movement he did three more times until Mitya can only make the most helpless of sounds. Now, Mitya can’t ignore how hard he is, so his short breathing turns into wailing as Valeriy fucks him.
He collapses when Valery pulls out, and then immediately flips him onto his back so that he can suck his cock. When he finally does come, the way Valeriy swallows without even considering otherwise makes him just want to immediately come again.
Valeriy removes his mouth, then Mitya touches his face, just to feel the warmth. Not only is Valeriy actually alive, he just gave him the best orgasm of his life, and he’s not sure what he’s more happy about.
After a moment, he tells Valeriy, “Don’t expect this to change anything tomorrow.”
“Meaning?” Valeriy stares at Mitya amused.
“I still intend to be as difficult as humanly possible.”
“I assumed so,” he says, kissing Mitya softly. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”