Log in

No account? Create an account

Previous Entry | Next Entry

Keep Contol: Eastern Promises Fic

Author: Bitterfig
Title: Keep Control
Fandom: Eastern Promises
Pairing: Nikolai/Kirill
Summary: The girl was seventeen years old, just in from Russia. She’d been beaten and drugged. Kirill expected Nikolai to break her in.
Beta Reader: Fedink
Word Count: 3000
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: This story includes violence, explicit sexual content, dubious consent, adult language (much of which is very degrading to women), violence, drug and alcohol use, references to forced prostitution and rape.
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Any illegal acts taking place within that fiction are NOT condoned by the author. Depictions of any questionable, illegal, or potentially illegal activity in said fiction does not mean that I condone, promote, support, participate in, or approve of said activity. I grasp the distinction between fiction and reality and trust that readers will do the same. I do not profit from the fan fiction I write, and all rights to the characters remain firmly in the hands of their creator.

Keep Control



There was a message on his cell from Kirill ordering him to come to the Trans-Siberian.  From the way Kirill slurred his words and the erratic mixture of Russian and English Nikolai could tell that he was drunk.  Dealing with a drunken Kirill was always a dangerous way to spend an evening, but Nikolai had been expecting something of this sort to happen. 


Kirill had been entirely too manageable for the past few months. 


The things that had happened around New Years – Nikolai almost being killed in his place, his father being arrested; his desperate attempt to murder his infant half-sister and ultimate failure to do so – had left Kirill badly shaken.  While before he had been boisterous and manic he had grown increasingly morose and withdrawn. 


Since New Years, Kirill had more or less given up the night life and devoted himself to his father.  Not just to putting together a legal defense but to keeping Semyon’s beloved restaurant running.  Kirill managed the kitchen and dining room with a level of efficiency Nikolai hadn’t seen him display since they’d been in the military together.  As for drinking, Kirill hadn’t stopped drinking but for the most part he had stopped getting drunk.  Every night after the restaurant had closed he drank vodka or cognac straight until he passed out, bypassing intoxication in favor of oblivion. 


This had left Semyon’s other business, the business of the vory v zakone, largely in Nikolai’s hands.  He’d been making considerable progress, identifying both suppliers and buyers of the “imports and exports” Semyon had dealt in and making inroads towards infiltrating even higher circles of the vory.  He was moving beyond Kirill, soon he wouldn’t need him any longer.


When he received the message that night, Nikolai couldn’t help but wonder if Kirill had realized that his usefulness was running out.  If this was the case there was no telling what Kirill might be capable of.  Even mired down by alcohol and depression when Kirill looked at Nikolai there was a raw, feral hunger in his eyes. 


Nikolai had taken full advantage of that hunger, he’d done everything he could to make Kirill dependent on him, to stoke the dark flickering of desire Kirill tried desperately to hide.  He’d thought he was in control but faced with the prospect of Kirill – drunken and determined to reassert his authority – Nikolai knew that he’d never really been in control.


When he stepped into the dining room of the Trans-Siberian it was dark and far too quiet.  Usually overflowing with light and people the room was empty, still, lit only by the emergency exit signs. 


“Kirill,” he called out.  “Where the fuck are you?  What is so important that you call me at two in the fucking morning?”


“Over here,” Kirill answered.  His words were slurred and Nikolai could smell alcohol as he started in the direction of the voice.  This encouraged him, hopefully Kirill would pass out on his own before he did any damage. 


“Where the fuck are you?”  He said again.  “I’m not in the mood for games.” 


And suddenly Kirill was in front of him.  He was dressed all in black and it made him seem spectral, like a part of the darkness, more of a shadow than a human being.  There was a bottle in hand.  Wine.  He was drinking wine.  Any hopes Nikolai might have had that things would be over quickly were dashed.  Kirill could go for hours without passing out on wine. 


“Nikolai, I have something for you,” Kirill said.  Something in his grin made Nikolai think of the devil.  He turned away and walked to the bar.  He took a bottle of vodka from the sideboard and twisted it open. 


“Yeah?”  Nikolai said flatly.  “Then let’s celebrate, have a drink.”  He heaved the bottle at Kirill who seemed to accept it willingly enough.  Only then did he notice the blood on Kirill’s face.  “What’s happened to you?  Why are you bleeding?” 


Still smiling, Kirill ran his fingertips over the jagged tear that ran from his eye to his chin.    


“I have something for you, come look…”


He caught Nikolai by the arm and wheeled him around so he was facing one of the restaurants booths.  It might have been the same one he’d sat on when he was tattooed with his stars.  This time however it was a girl sprawled out on the red velvet seat. 


She was painfully thin and to Nikolai’s eyes obscenely young.  Her clothes and hair were disheveled in the extreme, twisted around her.  There was blood, black and bright red, clotting between her nose and mouth, running down her arm, accentuating her deathly paleness. 


Nikolai’s heart stopped. 


“Her name is Vera, my cousin just brought her in from the motherfucking mother land,” Kirill said.  His hand rested heavy on Nikolai’s shoulder.  “I thought I would give you the privilege of breaking her in. Unfortunately it won’t be much of a challenge.  The stupid little whore got out of hand, screaming fighting.  I smacked her around but it just made her worse.  Finally I had to give her a shot to quite her down.  Fucking hysterical cunt.  You hear that?”   He snarled at the girl’s inert body.  “You’re a fucking cunt.” 


Nikolai took the bottle of vodka back from Kirill and drank deeply letting the alcohol make him numb, take him one step away from whatever madness he was in.   


“Is she alive?”  He finally asked.


“Of course she’s alive, you think I’d bring you here to fuck a corpse?” Kirill laughed and dragged the girl to her feet.  She was limp as a doll in his arms.  When he shook her she moaned.  “Wake up cunt, my friend wants to fuck you in the ass.”


Nikolai forced himself to breathe.


There were quite a few people who thought Kirill was flat-out psychotic but Nikolai had spent enough time with him to glean some understanding of how his mind worked. 


Kirill had a way of getting stuck on things, returning to things again and again, replaying them in endless loops but slightly twisted to form a Möbius strip that turned back onto itself. 


Certain words seem to catch and hold Kirill.  Someone like his father would use a word like “queer” or “pederast” and he  would repeat it again and again, echoing them until he was the one who said them the most and with the most disgust. 


He went back to places that made an impression.  It was no mistake, no coincidence that on New Years Eve he brought his infant sister to the same secluded inlet of the Thames where Nikolai had taken him to dump Soyka’s body days before. 


And it wasn’t by chance that he was demanding Nikolai fuck a girl while he watched.  This seemed to be a particular obsession of Kirill’s.  He’s ordered Nikolai to do it once before, back in December, but it went back further than that, ran deeper.  The diary the girl Tatiana had left behind told that much.  She had described Kirill’s attempt, and failure, to rape her at his father’s command with his father watching. 


And even beyond that, Kirill had told Nikolai once that the first time he’d ever had sex it had been with a nameless prostitute under the supervision of his father when he was  thirteen or fourteen years old. 


“That’s fucked up,” Nikolai had said with his usual cold sneer.   “For a father to do that to his son, that’s pretty sick.” He’d been genuinely surprised when Kirill, who was usually delighted by Nikolai’s disrespectful attitude, had exploded into frenzied anger. 


“Shut your fucking mouth, don’t ever talk about my father that way,” Kirill had screamed.  “My father is not some kind of pervert; he never wanted anything but the best for me.  You want to know what’s sick, your father the fucking hypocrite, making you pray in the closet while he was whoring for the Communist party.  You’re the one who’s fucked up.” 


Manipulating Kirill’s complex and painful relationships with his father had always provided Nikolai with a degree of control over them both so now that he found himself backed into a corner, he didn’t hesitate to bring up Semyon. 


“What do you want to be messing around with young girls for?”  Nikolai asked.  “Look at where it got your father.” 


“That one was fourteen years old, this fucking cunt, she’s an old lady.  Seventeen, perfectly legal.”  Kirill said nuzzling against Vera’s neck.  His hand was working up her thigh, pushing up her skirt.  “You can use a condom, no babies, no DNA.  What is your problem, you act like you don’t want to fuck her, you queer.”


“Damn you, Kirill,” Nikolai said gravely.  “It always comes to this.  We can’t just be friends and run a business, no, with you it always has to be about who’s the queer.  You want me to fuck her?  Then I guess I’ll fuck her.” 


He took another long drink of the vodka and removed his coat.  Kirill got up from beside the girl, gesturing to Nikolai to take his place but Nikolai ignored him and continued to undress. 


He stripped off his clothes piece by piece, deliberately making a show of it.  He knew the effect his body had on Kirill.  He remembered the stifled gasp the first time he’d shown Kirill the stars on his chest, his stars, the way Kirill’s hand involuntarily reached to touch him.  Kirill didn’t reach for him tonight, but he was watching with fierce intensity as he gulped down vodka.


Naked, Nikolai caught the other man’s gaze and held it for a long moment refusing to look away, knowing that Kirill couldn’t look away, then he caught the girl’s spindly arms and pulled her to her feet. 


“I won’t hurt you,” he said to her in Russian.  “Don’t be afraid of me.”  He drew her to him, kissing her throat, her cheek, finally her bloodied mouth.  He kissed her as tenderly as he could, never taking eyes off Kirill. 


The idea of being aroused by a woman in her condition – starved, terrified, beaten, drugged into a stupor – was repulsive to him but as he was so often called upon to do he put his morality aside.  He let himself desire her, let her helplessness stimulate him.  His kisses became more passionate, his cock hardened.  Wasted as she was, she half responded to him, making weak mewing noises that sounded like pleasure as he fondled her breasts. 


He lowered her to the ground, knelt beside her.  She was still in her clothes and he wanted to keep it that way.  More kisses, whispered reassurances.  “I’ll take care of you.  I promise you that.”  He stroked her tangled hair, gathering her against his chest. 


That was when he felt Kirill on his back, leaning against him in a heavy embrace, nuzzling his neck.  It was what Nikolai had been trying for and what he dreaded.  He’d been intentionally provoking Kirill, playing with his desire.  It was something he’d been doing for a long time but Kirill’s self-disgust had always been strong enough that his inhibitions held.  The point where Kirill was drunk enough to give in and touch another man and the point where he lost consciousness had always been close enough that Nikolai could manage him. 


It didn’t seem like that was going to be the case tonight.   Kirill was drunk but still lucid, aware enough to remember that Nikolai had been playing up to him, and that he’d responded. 


Kirill was so volatile and self-loathing that accepting his advances might be a disaster but Nikolai was certain rejecting them would ruin everything he had so carefully constructed between them. 


Nikolai had always known it might come to this.  He’d already been beaten and stabbed for the sake of this operation.  Compared to that it wasn’t so hard to turn his head and let Kirill’s mouth meet his, to turn his body so they were pressed against each other, to fall back underneath Kirill.  It wasn’t so hard, but he’d almost rather have taken a beating or a knife in the ribs.  At least then he could have fought back but for this he had to surrender, to relinquish the thing that had kept him alive for so long – control. 


“Whatever you want from me Kirill,” he said.  “Take it.”


Kirill devoured him, absolutely devoured him.  All the manic energy that coiled inside him unleashed itself on Nikolai’s body. 


Any shame, any pride Kirill had seemed to have dissolved.   He groveled between Nikolai’s legs, licking and sucking his cock and balls, eating him.  Kirill’s tongue found its way to his asshole, pressing inside him, opening him open.  It was a sexual act Nikolai considered so degrading he would never have allowed a woman, even a prostitute, to perform on him but he let Kirill do it.  He begged him not to stop. 


He’d never thought he could enjoy it so much.   That a man’s tongue up his ass could make him feel like he was melting inside or that Kirill’s hand around his cock could make him writhe and groan the way it did. 


Vera, the girl, she was still there.  She was still half-clinging to him but her arms were still and slack.  She’d probably nodded off.  Nikolai was glad of that, glad she wouldn’t see.  Even though she wouldn’t know, he wanted to touch her, to reassure her but he couldn’t.  His cock was in Kirill’s mouth and he was holding on to Kirill, his neck, his shoulders, his fingers buried in Kirill’s coarse hair.  He couldn’t let go or rather he was not capable of letting go.  He couldn’t lay a reassuring hand on hers so he pressed his lips to her wrist instead.  His body spasmed and jerked then something seemed to implode behind his eyes as he came in Kirill’s mouth.


For a time everything was still.  Kirill was collapsed on top of him and Nikolai lay still, flushed and strangely satiated.  Then Kirill came to violent life.  Retching and sobbing he tore himself from Nikolai’s grip.  He found the bottle of vodka on the floor and swallowed a mouthful only to spit it out before stumbling to his feet and disappearing through the swinging doors to the kitchen.


Nikolai too got up.  Vera was his first concern, he had to get her away then he could deal with Kirill.  She was slumped on the floor, dark blood smeared around her mouth.  A little like a vampire but more like a child that has been eating chocolate. 


“Vera,” Nikolai shook her, hard.  He didn’t like it but she had to be roused.  “Girl, Vera, wake up, you have to get out of here.”  Her eyes opened, focused on him.  “Can you walk?”


“I think.”   


He found his wallet, pulled all the bills from it and shoved them into her hand, closed her fingers around it. 


“Take this.  What English do you know?  Enough to get to a hotel?”  She nodded.  There was a paper icon in his wallet as well and he scribbled a phone number and address on the back of it. 


“This is a woman I know.  Tomorrow, you find her.  She’ll help you.”


He helped her to her feet.  She was unsteady but she could walk. 


“Go,” he ordered her. 


“What will happen to you?”  She asked.


“Let me worry about that, you take care of yourself.”


“Come with me.”  She said.


“I can’t.  I belong here, with him.” 


 She wasn’t a stupid girl; given the chance, she fled, disappeared into the darkness.  She would not be the one broken tonight. 


Still naked, Nikolai walked into the kitchen after Kirill.  Only the emergency lights were burning, casting a red glow over the stainless steel counters.  Kirill was huddled against the wall, rocking back and forth.  There was a knife in his hands, the kind of knife meant to cut through muscle and bones. 


“Do you plan on using that on me or yourself?”  Nikolai asked as casually as he could manage.


“What do you think?”  Kirill snarled back.  Nikolai shrugged.


“With you, I can never tell.” 


Kirill relaxed enough to grin.  Nikolai went for the knife. 


They struggled for several minutes before the knife finally clattered to the floor.  It should have been easier, drunk as Kirill was.  As much as Nikolai hated to admit it the injuries he’d suffered in December had taken a lot out of him physically.  He wasn’t going to get it back.      


He held on to Kirill.  Embracing him, restraining him, who knew anymore?


“No one will know,” Nikolai said when he’d finally caught his breath.  “I’m not Soyka, I won’t turn on you.  No one will know what we did tonight.” 


“How did you know about Soyka?”


“I figured it out just now.”  He said it dryly, as though it hardly mattered, forced himself to be the Nikolai that Kirill knew and depended on.  “You’re drunk.  Let me take you to bed like I always do when you’re like this.  No different than any other night.  Let me take care of you.  That’s what I do.” 


Kirill stopped resisting, collapsed against him weeping openly.  With the same tenderness he had shown Vera, Nikolai held him and stroked his hair. 


Now that he’d gotten what he wanted, Kirill would want more.  That was the way he was.  He’d want Nikolai again and again.  Remembering what they’d just done made Nikolai want to vomit.  It also made his cock burn. 


An endlessly repeating loop of lust and shame; that was Kirill’s particular form of madness.  It was dangerous to even comprehend but if Nikolai gave in to it Kirill would trust him with anything.  Why shouldn’t he when Nikolai was privy to his most carefully guarded secret?

Sometimes to gain the advantage you had to lose yourself.


( 15 comments — Leave a comment )
Aug. 30th, 2008 08:28 am (UTC)
wow, this is AWESOME! great job! you did great on characterization, and you kept it pretty consistent throughout. props to you!
Aug. 31st, 2008 12:23 pm (UTC)
Thanks so much. I'm really pleased to know you liked it.
Sep. 2nd, 2008 03:06 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much.
Aug. 30th, 2008 08:06 pm (UTC)
this was really amazing. job VERY well done!
Aug. 31st, 2008 12:18 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much.
Aug. 31st, 2008 06:15 pm (UTC)
Oh my, how do you summon such perfect fic so consistently? Needless to say I liked that a great deal, thank-you. :D Nikolai's mental disgust and his body's urging at the very end was just an especially brilliantly real touch to cap it all off.

I am going to add this fic journal if you don't mind?
Sep. 2nd, 2008 03:06 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much for reading and commenting. I'm really pleased to know you liked it. it's one of those stories that I've been working on forever so it's really wonderful to get positive feedback. You're welcome to add this journal, I've friended you back. Thanks.
(Deleted comment)
Sep. 2nd, 2008 03:04 pm (UTC)
Thanks so much for reading and commenting. I'm glad you liked it. I've actually seen a couple of Kirill/Soyka stories posted at the epslash community if you're interested.
Dec. 30th, 2008 07:56 am (UTC)
He wasn’t going to get it back. A little painful, quite wonderful, all of it. Thank you.
Jan. 2nd, 2009 02:28 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much for reading and commenting. I'm really pleased to know you liked it. This was one of the more difficult stories I've ever written. The whole process of getting these characters to their pain truths was really hard for me so I'm happy to know that it rang true and worked for you.
Jan. 3rd, 2009 01:55 am (UTC)
Jul. 28th, 2009 06:29 pm (UTC)
amazing, i loved it!

Jul. 29th, 2009 09:51 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much, I'm really pleased to know you liked it.
Oct. 19th, 2009 10:10 pm (UTC)
I thought I had read every Nikolai/Kirill fic here at LJ, but this one had slipped through. What a nice surprise :) And I agree: "An endlessly repeating loop of lust and shame" is the key to this relationship, and you have managed to keep it within the canon universe and made it an interesting story in itself. Thanks!
Oct. 23rd, 2009 10:18 pm (UTC)
Thank you for reading and commenting. I'm really pleased to hear you enjoyed the story.
( 15 comments — Leave a comment )

Latest Month

November 2010


Powered by LiveJournal.com
Designed by chasethestars