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My Captain: Eastern Promises Fic

Author: Bitterfig
Title: My Captain
Fandom: Eastern Promises
Pairing: Nikolai/Kirill (references to Kirill/Soyka)
Summary: After he left the army, Kirill never thought he’d see Nikolai Luzhin again. Suddenly there he was in London, asking for work.
Beta Reader: Fedink
Word Count: 1217
Rating: R
Warnings: Language, sex, gratuitous alcohol abuse.
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.




My Captain



Kirill drank too much, he had for years.

When he was young it was expected but now that he was getting older people noticed. He noticed. He couldn’t drink like he used to. More and more often he blacked out, forgot what he’d done or said. Mornings he was sick, his hands shook. The only time the hangovers really left him was when he started drinking again. A vicious cycle, but wasn’t viciousness the way of the world?

He sold young girls for a living. He didn’t care what happened to them. The only thing he cared about was his family, his family and his vodka and his cognac.

And maybe Soyka.

Soyka was a member of the vory in his father’s inner circle. Kirill dimly remembered blowing him in the loading dock of the family restaurant, the Trans-Siberian, one night. It was summer and they’d been stripped down to their undershirts, ice cubes in their drinks, waiting for a shipment. Two weeks after the blow-job Soyka had let Kirill grope him in a pub. This forbidden intimacy with other men was something Kirill had been secretly indulging in most of his life. He found it both exciting and horrifying. He already had a reputation as a drunk. If Soyka were to open his mouth, add “queer” to “drunk” it would be more than enough to destroy Kirill.

He wasn’t sure he could trust Soyka. He wasn’t even sure what or how much they’d done together but if anyone found out Kirill’s father, Semyon, would personally kill him. After all, Semyon had beat the shit out of Kirill for a lot less—botching up a business deal, coming home drunk once too often. He was old but his iron fist remained intact. Kirill respected his father immensely despite (or perhaps because of) the broken ribs and black eyes he’d suffered over the years.

The summer tended to be slow at the Trans-Siberian and Kirill left the restaurant early one particularly dead weeknight. He’d already had five or six shots of liquor over the course of the evening but that was barely enough to get him buzzed. He was eager to get to the Underground, a pub where Soyka could often be found, and begin drinking in earnest.

“Kirill,” someone called. A voice he couldn’t quite place. The solid figure of a man in a mechanics uniform appeared before him. It took a moment for him to recognize the man’s weathered face but when he did all thought of Soyka, of his father’s wrath, of the restaurant and even the pub fled from his mind.

“Nikolai Luzhin, you motherfucking bastard,” Kirill yelled. “What are you doing here?”

It had been nearly a decade since he’d laid eyes on Nikolai. They’d served in the army together, seen action in Chechnya. Kirill had never expected, never dared to hope that he would see Nikolai again. He threw himself at his long lost friend, embracing him in a hug that could only be described as consuming. Nikolai returned it stiffly. Distant as he had always been, distant, reserved but accepting of Kirill’s exuberance. That was the way they’d always been.

Kirill dragged Nikolai to the first available pub, an unfamiliar British place, and they set about catching up and getting hammered.

Nikolai had just recently come to England. He’d heard of Kirill’s family and he thought they might have a place for him.

“Doing what?” Kirill asked with a sneer, knowing exactly what kind of employment he was seeking.

“I drive, I fix cars,” Nikolai said with a shrug then he made a cutting motion across his neck. “I can do whatever you need.”

“Let me see your tattoos.”

A reasonable request, Nikolai’s history was written in his tattoos. It was his résumé and his references.

Since he couldn’t very well strip down in the pub, they went to Nikolai’s flat which wasn’t far away. Kirill was already reeling drunk; he had to throw his arm around Nikolai’s shoulders for the short walk.

Nikolai’s flat was small and shabby, but as the first thing he did was get out two mismatched glasses and pour them full of vodka Kirill was at home. Sitting at the kitchen table he watched as Nikolai peeled off his mechanics uniform, took off everything but his briefs and displayed himself.

“Good, good,” Kirill muttered, reading Nikolai’s history in the tattoos. “We can use you.”

“I can use you,” Nikolai said. “I’m living in a shithole with no money.”

Kirill poured himself another glass of vodka.

“You’re exactly where you were back when I met you,” he laughed. “Remember? When we were in the army.”

“You were my Captain,” Nikolai said, sitting at the table beside Kirill, still wearing nothing but his underwear.

“You weren’t shit,” Kirill went on. “You’d been enlisted twice as long as I had and what were you? Still a Private? Stuck in the motor pool….”

“I didn’t have a rich father to pay bribes and buy me titles.”

“Fuck you. I was a good soldier, you can’t deny that.”

“You were brave,” Nikolai agreed. “When you took shrapnel in your leg that time you kept commanding us until the attack had ended. I didn’t even realize you’d been hit till it was over.”

“I took care of you then. I’ll take care of you now.”

“Thanks.” Nikolai was so terse with words, coming from him this simple thanks meant so much. Maybe it was the vodka but it seemed to glow. The moment felt remarkably tender and Kirill dared to remember something he’d been trying for years to forget.

“Do you remember when I got out of the hospital? A couple days after that? We went out together, we got drunk.”

“Sure.”

“I took off the bandages to show you where the shrapnel went in. You touched the scar. It was like electricity running from you to me.”

Nikolai said nothing but he laid a hand on Kirill’s thigh, just above the knee where the old wound was.

“I got hard,” Kirill went on. “My dick got hard and I jerked off right there. You watched, and you never took your hand off my scar…”

“You were my Captain,” Nikolai said. “Besides, I don’t remember any of that. None of that happened. We got drunk, like we’re doing tonight. You passed out, like you’re going to tonight.”

Kirill reached out, ran his hand over Nikolai’s chest raking through the coarse hair that covered it.

“That never happened?” He asked.

“No,” Nikolai said softly but firmly. Kirill’s hand settled on the bulge of his crotch. He squeezed and Nikolai groaned though his face remained impassive.

“Is this happening?” Kirill asked.

“You’re drunk. You’re imagining things.”

He got on his knees before Nikolai, worked down his briefs. Nikolai’s penis was erect. He leaned back in the chair, spread his legs open, letting Kirill fall on him, devour him with his mouth, suck him hard, almost desperately till Nikolai was moaning, pumping his hips, fucking the hole that welcomed him. Finally he exploded, spilling come into Kirill’s mouth.

Semen dripping down his chin Kirill spat onto the floor, and grabbing his glass drained it.

“I’ll take care of you, Nikolai, like I did in the army. I’m still your Captain.”

“You are,” Nikolai said.

Comments

( 14 comments — Leave a comment )
ranger_girl0301
Jun. 19th, 2010 01:35 pm (UTC)
Gooooooood one!
bitterfic
Jun. 19th, 2010 01:51 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much.
ky_backwood
Jun. 19th, 2010 05:19 pm (UTC)
Amazing! Loved it!
bitterfic
Jun. 19th, 2010 06:30 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much.
eve_n_furter
Jun. 19th, 2010 06:02 pm (UTC)
I don't think I'll ever get enough of this pairing. Very IC, and hot too. Good work!
eve_n_furter
Jun. 19th, 2010 06:11 pm (UTC)
Nice touch with their agreement too. I don't think these guys are the types who "talk things through".
bitterfic
Jun. 19th, 2010 06:39 pm (UTC)
No, they're definitely not the type of guys who talk about their feelings.
bitterfic
Jun. 19th, 2010 06:31 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much.
caras_galadhon
Jun. 19th, 2010 08:00 pm (UTC)
Really fascinating! I especially love how they agree that none of what they've done together ever happened. ^_^
bitterfic
Jun. 19th, 2010 09:28 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much for reading and commenting. I'm glad you liked it.
widdershin
Jun. 20th, 2010 08:07 am (UTC)
I really enjoyed this! Thank you for posting it :)
bitterfic
Jun. 20th, 2010 10:27 am (UTC)
Thanks so much, I'm glad you liked it.
nverland
Jun. 28th, 2010 06:44 pm (UTC)
Very nice!
bitterfic
Jun. 29th, 2010 03:43 pm (UTC)
Thanks so much.
( 14 comments — Leave a comment )

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