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 Posted: Sat Nov 25, 2017 5:55 am
He’d pushed too far, Lev was sure of this, as Seth suddenly jumped up from the couch and stumbled forward. Lev didn’t have enough time to try and help him in case he started to fall, but that ended up not being the case. Instead, he froze as Seth leaned close and kissed his cheek, the warmth of his lips lingering, making Lev’s otherwise fair features flush darkly.
Lev stared, watching as Seth turned to run again, saying he needed to sleep. That was… acceptable, Lev decided, watching as Seth unsteadily made to leave, to probably head up to his bedroom. That was okay. It wasn’t as though he was running away like he had before. This time he had nowhere to go, and Lev was sure that Seth realized that as well. In fact, the most surprising thing, besides the kiss, was that Seth was offering him a place to stay and rest.
He let Seth go, to run and hide, as if this was just a game they used to play as children. Besides, sometimes Seth really did need his space to collect his thoughts, or at least the Seth Lev once knew did.
Instead of getting up to immediately follow, Lev finished the rest of his glass of vodka, and then what was left of Seth’s, and finished patching up his arm where Seth had stopped in the middle. He wrapped his sore knuckles as well, and cleaned up the mess they’d made from the first aid kit.
It was strange, walking through the house and knowing it belonged to Seth. Lev cleaned up the sitting area and took the glasses back to the kitchen, the vodka back in the fridge after making sure all the blood was washed from the top, and put the first aid kit away.
He explored a little too; peering out the windows to the back, poking his head into stocked pantries that made it seem as though Seth was preparing for the end of the world, and into the office and library and entertainment room. And of course there was a wine cellar.
Lev wondered if he was wrong to interpret the invitation to stay there to rest as an invitation to make himself at home, but he did. Not to his benefit of course. Not all to his benefit at least.
There was a strong part of him that told him he should leave, that he should call a cab right then and go back to his hotel without another word to Seth, but there was something…
Something…
He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. The way he spoke, as though he wasn’t quite sure what he meant to say, or was trying to say. The way he looked dazed and skittish, his need for flight so strong that he couldn’t manage to send Lev off, and just told him he could stay.
And the kiss to his cheek. There was desperation there, that he’d never felt before. It made his stomach twist, his heart pounding heavy against his chest.
He distracted himself by making lunch for them both. Nothing fancy, and with only what he could find from the supplies of food Seth kept for no apparent reason because he was one person. Lev made up some egg, cheese, and tomato sandwiches between slices of toast, and the good butter that of course Seth had. If anything, Seth was probably feeling hungover from the night before, and would only feel worse if he didn’t eat. And just having vodka didn’t count.
That strong part that told him he should leave was also telling him that this was too much. That he was getting too used to this already, that he needed to stop and back out and not be friendly with the person who had walked out on him two years ago.
But this was Kolya.
He found a tray to carry everything, pouring some cranberry juice into a glass, which was probably intended for mixing with alcohol than actually drinking, and carried it with him in the direction he saw Seth go.
Once he spotted the doors, it really wasn’t that difficult to differentiate between the other rooms and the master suite. He lifted his hand to gently knock on the door, and when there was no answer, and also to make sure he hadn’t maybe guessed incorrectly, turned the knob and pushed the door open a crack to peer inside. --------------------------------------------------------------- He shouldn’t have kissed him.
It was just a kiss to the cheek; almost a greeting or a goodbye kiss, which he’d done plenty of times with Lev already, even if that had mostly just been kissing the air next to his cheek. He had pecked him briefly on the lips at their wedding, if only to make it more realistic, more grounded in an attempt at looking realistic, less like it was just for show. It should not have been such a big deal.
Except it was, because it was all that Seth could think about, all that he could dream about. Lev’s face, improbably close to his own, the warmth of his skin, the faint scrape of stubble, because he hadn’t had time or the ability to shave.
He had been so stupid.
Up in his bedroom, he changed into a long sleeved, loose black sweater and a pair of black sweatpants, Seth crawling into the California King sized bed and all but collapsing onto it in a pile of feather blankets and silk covered pillows. He pulled one of the pillows into his arms and buried his face in it, dragging a comforter over him, the house cool enough that he didn’t have to worry about overheating.
He couldn’t get Lev out of his mind. It was a montage of things just bursting through his senses, memories and emotions that cascaded one right over the other, burning through him, taking over his thoughts. Seth held the pillow tighter, gripped it to his chest, trying to ignore the fluttering of his heart, fighting the almost maniacal, desperate urge to leave and find Lev again.
He couldn’t do that. He needed to think of something else.
His hand rose to his neck instinctively, the sweater, for once, not a high, tight one, but a soft V-neck. Seth’s fingers smoothed along his collarbone until he found the edge of the silver chain, curling around it, drifting lower until he caught ahold of the ring looped around the chain. It was simple, a silver and black band meant to be worn, not on a necklace, but he couldn’t wear it anymore.
Lev had probably thrown his away. Seth brought the ring to his lips and closed his eyes, exhaling a shaking breath that hurt.
Eventually, after tucking the necklace safely back inside his shirt, he drifted off, exhaustion and a night of alcohol and painful emotions finally overtaking him. He slept fitfully, dozing on and off for an hour or two with dreams and visions of Lev’s face until he finally, blissfully, slipped into a much deeper sleep that washed over him, pulling him under.
He did not wake as the door was knocked on, then pushed open, Seth still curled in his bed. For all of the grandeur of the rest of the house, Seth’s bedroom was in stark contrast, with hardly any decorations at all in it. There was his bed, in the middle, all black and white bedding, because he was not exactly the most adventurous when it came to colors. All the wood was dark paneled and simple, with a television on one side, opposite the bed, and a fireplace beneath it, which was currently off.
Other than a few miscellaneous vases, there was nothing, not even a photograph.--------------------------------------------------------------- He was trying not to think too much about the kiss, because it was just on his cheek and Seth probably just felt overwhelmed and needed to do something. Probably just a kiss goodbye. Or one in thanks. Lev didn’t try to think too much into it, not wanting to upset himself with too many hopeful thoughts.
Besides, he was still supposed to be mad, wasn’t he? There was still the whole issue of Seth not telling him anything and disappearing.
Lev pushed the door open carefully, seeing the blob under the covers which was surely Seth’s sleeping form. He didn’t look like he was sleeping very comfortably. It was also not difficult to notice the lack of personal touches. In fact, his whole house seemed to lack personal touches, as if it was all just there to be there.
He knew he should turn around and leave and let Seth sleep. He was probably exhausted. Lev was exhausted, but it was strange enough being in that house.
Curiously, cautiously, Lev pushed the door open, and then closed behind him. He took the tray of sandwiches to the dresser to place out of the way, and went over to the bed to sit on the edge.
He reached out as if to touch Seth’s hair or forehead, but stopped himself before he could, lowering his hand back to the edge of the bed instead.
What was he doing? He needed to just leave Seth alone to sleep.
“я скучал по тебе,” he said quietly looking down at the floor instead of the sleeping form in the bed, feeling as though maybe if he allowed himself to admit it outloud, things will be easier. It wasn’t as though Seth was awake, anyway. He could hear the slow, steady breathing from under the covers.
“Я думал, что больше никогда тебя не увижу. Я боялся, что с тобой что-то случилось. Я все еще боюсь.”
He’d thought about so many different possibilities that could have happened to him, had searched for him, had mourned for him, had tried all he could to move on without him.
“Я тебя ненавижу, и я скучаю по тебе.”
But even that was a lie. He hated what Seth had done, but he didn’t think it was possible to hate Seth himself, not after everything.
“Я больше не собираюсь тебя видеть. Но я хотел бы, чтобы у нас было больше времени вместе.”
Lev breathed out a sigh and made to stand. He needed to leave. He needed to leave before he got himself in so deep that he couldn’t get back out. --------------------------------------------------------------- Somewhere in his sleepy, hazy mind, Seth could hear a voice.
It was a familiar voice, so familiar it felt as though it was almost a part of him. It melted through his thoughts, shifted gently into his brain, unfamiliar, garbled words, nothing more than syllables, a tone, hardly anything he could make out. But it was the cadence of it that felt familiar, the rhythm, the gentleness that had always been there, even with how angry and how frustrated things had been.
Slowly, he became aware of his surroundings; that he was still in bed, wrapped in a cocoon of blankets. He was in his room, and he was -
-not alone.
A figure sat beside him, not rigid or tense, but almost comfortable, or maybe resigned. Lev’s posture was weary, leaning slightly forward, but he wasn’t looking at Seth; instead his gaze was on the floor in front of him, his expression, from what little Seth could see of it, tired.
He didn’t move. He didn’t breathe, Seth’s heart going into overdrive, because Lev was not supposed to be in here. Lev was supposed to be elsewhere, in one of the guest rooms, or in one of the living rooms, or even back at his own place, calling a cab and leaving. He was not supposed to be sitting here, in Seth’s bedroom, on Seth’s bed, with his quiet voice and his quiet presence taking up space in Seth’s heart.
I hate you and I miss you.
He had known the hatred was there, known that it was not how it had once been but it still hurt, a javelin to his chest. Seth’s entire body felt the weight of it, bearing down on him, and he could hardly draw breath for the pain that it caused. Assuming it was one thing, but hearing it spoken aloud was an entirely different thing.
But Lev - missed him. Missed the man he had once been, missed the best friend he had lost all those years ago. Two years, in the grand scheme of things, was not a long time.
It felt like a lifetime.
Seth’s eyes were only half open, breathing still even and slow, and he almost closed them again, almost let himself go back to sleep, rather than wake and face this, rather than look at that hatred on Lev’s face.
I’m not going to see you again.
But I would like us to have more time together.
The world shifted, tilted. Seth felt the words impact, even as Lev was moving to stand, and without being able to stop himself, without even knowing he was moving until he was already in motion, Seth pushed up, his hand reaching out, wrapping around Lev’s wrist to stop him from leaving.
”Не уходи,” he said, and his voice came out rough, shaking slightly, and he had no idea what he was doing, had no idea why he was doing this except that he had a desperate, almost overwhelming urge not to let Lev walk away.
”Не уходи,” he said again, his grip tightening. “Lyova.”--------------------------------------------------------------- He needed to get out. He’d already stayed too long. He needed to leave before he was too drawn into the things that could be or might be or should be. Lev’s heart had already been broken, and he didn’t need any more of it to be shattered into dust.
A hand gripped onto his, and Lev’s eyes widened, his face flushing deep with the realization that Seth hadn’t been asleep. At least not for all of it. How much had he heard? How much did he hear Lev say? The hand around his wrist felt like it was the only thing tethering him to the ground.
Don’t go, Lyova.
Lev closed his eyes, his heart aching to the point he was sure it would surely shatter. He had been serious. He couldn’t see Seth again after this. Less than two weeks in Destiny City was enough to turn his life upside down once again. He should have never sought Seth out. He should have just pretended that he never found him.
It hurt too much to know that he was right there and he couldn’t have him. Not in the way he wanted. Not in the way they’d ever discussed. Even with the revelation that Seth had no preference for men or women, Lev knew there was nothing he could do about them, or their entirely platonic marriage, or the two years that had negated eighteen years of friendship.
After a few long moments, Lev took a step back, easing himself back down onto the edge of the bed, but he didn’t look at Seth. He couldn’t.
“You do not really vant me around. You might think you do, but you do not. Besides,” he added, wishing it weren’t the case, but there was no changing the facts, “I am scheduled to leave in two days. Even if I vanted...”
He knew he was thinking too much into it. Seth probably only meant that afternoon, not forever. Because that was a ridiculous, wonderful thought that made him both angry and overwhelmingly relieved to think that might be true.--------------------------------------------------------------- He couldn’t get past the hatred, he knew this - he knew this - and yet he couldn’t stop himself, his fingers tightening around Lev’s wrist with a desperate sort of grip that was, Seth also knew, pathetic. But he knew that if he let Lev walk out that door right now, he would never see him again, and the thought of that was almost unbearable, rising up to choke him.
The flush was endlessly, ridiculously attractive, endearing in a way that Seth had long adored, his eyes wide and startled, like a deer caught in headlights. Seth stared back up at him, his heart in his throat, and he had never wanted anything as much as he had wanted Lev, until now.
Now all he wanted was for Lev to stay, to not leave, to not walk out that door and out of his life forever.
The minutes ticked by. Seth felt as though he was on a knife’s edge, precariously balanced on the tip, ready to fall and shatter at any moment.
It was like getting a breath of air into his lungs as Lev sat down again. Seth’s grasp on his wrist loosened, just a little, but didn’t pull away entirely, his expression flickering, breathing shallow. It was like having just run a marathon, every part of him stiff and tense, Seth’s shoulders slumping slightly, the neckline of the sweater shifting downward somewhat with the movement.
The silence stretched again, filled with everything he couldn’t say, and what was there to say? Lev was right; he was only here for a day or two more, and then after that, that was it. There was nothing else after that, he would be gone, and they would be separated, and then divorced, and that was that.
His heart ached.
After a long moment, his voice so low it was almost inaudible, Seth said quietly, ”Я скучал по тебе.”
He knew it was overdue. It was two years too late.--------------------------------------------------------------- He had no idea what he was doing. He had planned on seeing Seth, on yelling at him, on hitting him - which he had. He hadn’t meant to start remembering all the times they had before, all the things they shared, all the nights Lev had spent thinking about his soulmate in the form of a young man with dark hair and a wickedly handsome smile. They were bound together by more than just marriage papers. They had eighteen years together before this. How could it be so easy to forget?
It wasn’t. That’s why it was so difficult to just walk out. He should hate Seth. Really, truly hate him, but he couldn’t, and he hated himself for it.
And then the words he didn’t think he would ever hear. It was so quiet that he didn’t think he heard him correctly at first, but it was there. A soft, genuine I missed you.
Lev was sure his face would melt off because it grew even hotter than before, slowly turning to stare at Seth again, as if trying to determine if he was just making stuff up, if he was just saying it to say it. If he’d missed him, why did he run when he got the note from Lev at the bar? Sure, it was probably because Seth knew he’d be angry, but he could have told him. He could have been honest with him from the start.
Or maybe that was just a way to protect himself. Maybe he still couldn’t tell him all the reasons why he’d left. Maybe it was still -
A shimmer of something caught his gaze as Seth’s sweater shifted. A thin chain of some kind, similar to -
“For a few days I thought you vould just come back home. Maybe you needed time to clear your head. The police found nothing amiss, so they brushed off the case. I vas afraid your father vas involved, so I couldn’t push too hard. And then veeks. And months. I still hoped that one day… one day you vould walk through that door and laugh and tell me you vere sorry for disappearing. That you had something you needed to do and could not get back until just then.”
Lev shook his head, not wanting Seth to think that he was trying to tell him in order to make him feel more guilty, but because he wanted him to know what it had been like.
“Even after I found out you were still alive, that you were living in mansion and doing well, I still…”
Still what? Still hoped? Dreamed that maybe this would blow over? --------------------------------------------------------------- He hadn’t moved from where he’d sat up, Seth’s legs bent beneath him, half kneeling on the bed slightly behind Lev. Seth could see Lev’s face now, could see the incredulity and disbelief in those blue eyes of his, a shade or so lighter than Seth’s own. They were wide now, almost accusing, Lev’s face flushed, and Seth couldn’t tell if it was from anger or fear or something else entirely.
His hand was still resting on Lev’s wrist, though the grip had slackened now, just a touch of his fingers that he had almost forgotten about in lieu of Lev’s voice. Seth felt the guilt rise, felt it choking him, twisting in his throat, and he wanted desperately to be able to say why. Why he had gone, why he had left, why he had thrown it all away, when it was the only thing he had ever wanted in his entire life.
I was afraid.
I was a coward.
I fell in love with you and I couldn’t bear being married to you when you didn’t love me too.
They all sounded meaningless in his head, pathetic, halfhearted reasons. Lev would hate him even more if he knew, the shame building in Seth’s chest, pressing outwards, so that his expression shifted and flickered from something desperate and raw to something stricken instead.
All of that, because of him. All of that fear and disappointment and anger and all because he was a coward.
I’m sorry was too light, not nearly enough to express everything he wanted to say, how angry he was at himself, how much he hated himself for leaving.
His mouth opened, then closed again, a fish out of water, like he was gasping for breath, except there was no sound and all he could do was stare at Lev, the waves of disappointment and longing crashing over him, drowning him beneath the waves until he was submerged completely.
Slowly, Seth’s hand slid away from Lev’s wrist. Touching him had been a mistake; Lev did not want that.
“I…”
His voice was hoarse, trembling slightly.
“I had something that I needed to do,” he said, barely audible again, because he couldn’t stop the shame and the twist of guilty, terrible emotions in his throat. “But I could not come back.”
And now I’ve ruined it all.--------------------------------------------------------------- They’d already gone through all of the hissing and spitting anger that had accumulated in the two years they’d been apart. If Lev had never found out that Seth was alive, maybe things would be different. Maybe Seth would eventually find a way to be happy. Maybe Lev would have been able to move on.
There was so much that had lasted between them; was it really that hopeless to try to piece things back together? There just wasn’t enough time. They had their separate lives, and surely Seth wouldn’t be able to keep his wealth if he allowed Lev back into his life. His father would never allow that.
Lev was acutely aware of Seth pulling his hand away from his wrist, the loss of warmth, even though it was barely a touch of fingers, was as if he’d been thrown into icy water.
“Nyet,” he said, reaching out to lightly take hold of Seth’s hand, his fingers wrapping loosely around his palm. “Do not pull away, Kolya.” Not now. Not after everything. “You are done vith running.”
He didn’t know if they could ever get back to the trust that they had between them before, but this was a small step. Maybe. It was difficult because he knew it would put Seth at risk if his father found out that they were still married, or maybe he already knew and was okay as long as Lev wasn’t in Seth’s life, but he couldn’t bare the thought of uprooting Seth again, when he’d obviously had a need to run.
“Maybe ve could stay in contact,” he said quietly, feeling a little silly because it was such a simple sounding solution to a problem that was much bigger than calling once in a while. “Other than discussing divorce. I could… maybe visit sometime.”
His face still felt heated as he kept his gaze away from Seth, his throat working as he swallowed down the sudden well of nervousness at the thought of being rejected.
“I am sorry I hit you,” he added, wincing at the memory of punching Seth in the face. --------------------------------------------------------------- He’d made a mistake in saying that Lev could stay here, in thinking that, somehow, he could have a little more time to figure things out. A childish, selfish mistake brought on by his own inability to let go of things that were long since out of his reach. Lev had never been within his grasp; he shouldn’t have assumed that now would be any different, that the time that had passed had made any changes at all.
Lev’s hand touched his, and Seth felt the reality of it shiver up and down his spine like a frayed nerve ending, his eyes instinctively snapping to where Lev’s fingers curled around his palm.
You are done with running.
Was he? It was hard to tell, because his first desire now was to run, to disappear, to drink himself into an oblivion where he didn’t have to hurt so much. But Lev was not letting him go; Lev, who had hugged him in the kitchen because he had needed it. Lev, who had bandaged his hand and stood up for him at the club, who had almost gone to jail for him. Lev, who had come for him, who was now telling him that he didn’t want him to go anywhere.
It didn’t make any sense. Seth opened his mouth and then shut again; he’d never felt more out of his element, more unlike himself, or maybe this was who he’d always been and he had just been faking it this entire time.
Maybe we should stay in contact.
I could maybe visit sometime.
Hope - irrational, pathetic, desperate hope flared in Seth’s chest, suddenly acutely visible in his eyes as he stared up at Lev, his lips parting slightly. He didn’t know what it was that was making Lev suddenly be so kind to him, except that he had always been kind; the last two years had changed him, had changed that kindness into hatred of the man who had left him behind.
Which made it even more confusing that Lev wanted to, at the very least, talk.
“I deserved it,” said Seth, voice a little ragged, because he needed to calm down, he needed to not think about how much he wanted this one, tiny window of opportunity that meant that Lev would still want to talk to him, to see him. It seemed impossible, and yet -
“я бы хотел,” was the quiet, pained answer.--------------------------------------------------------------- Lev knew he was probably trying to do too much. He was setting them both up to be disappointed later, he was sure. They would discover that they were both so incredibly different than who they once were two years ago and then use that as a reason to move on. That was all. This was just a means to an end, rather than a way to heal what had been broken.
Too much had changed for things to be completely fixed, right?
But he liked the way Seth’s voice sounded; quiet and pained and a little ragged. Not because it meant he was in distress, but because Lev thought he could see a little of the Seth he once knew hidden behind the facade of an always confident young man.
I would like to, came the quiet answer, and Lev felt himself relaxing some. He was still angry about what happened, still upset with himself that he wasn’t good enough or important enough for Seth to talk to. To tell him what was wrong. To help him work through whatever it was. But he was still his childhood friend of eighteen years.
He was still his husband. Although not for much longer. Once the papers were signed that would be it.
“Then it is settled,” he said, his fingers temporarily flexing around Seth’s palm, before Lev moved to stand from the bed again, gesturing to the food he’d brought up. “You should eat something. You are much too thin,” Lev said, obviously trying to lighten things up, although he wasn’t sure how successful he was when the inflection of his voice didn’t change. After all, he was half serious.
“You can not tell me you no longer eat in bed. You can not have changed that much,” he said, pulling the tray off the dresser and offering it to Seth. This was easier than having a deeper conversation like they had been.
This was Lev’s way of running. He never said he wasn’t a hypocrite.
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Posted: Sat Nov 25, 2017 5:56 am
Lev wasn’t leaving.
He wasn’t saying goodbye, he wasn’t walking away, he was letting Seth be a part of his life, even if it was only temporarily. And Seth knew, perfectly well, that the anger was still there; anger and hurt and betrayal were not things someone just got over in the course of a few days. Seth doubted that he would ever be able to convince Lev of anything, but at least he had this. He had a chance, however small, however fruitless, to maybe, just maybe, redeem himself.
The odds were against him, he knew this, too, as well as the fact that it would never be in the way that he wanted it to be. But friendship was a thing that was crucial to everything else, and all of a sudden, Seth couldn’t bear the idea of not having Lev as his friend anymore. The hatred scalded, burned; he was so tired of not being able to breathe properly around him.
I just want you in my life again.
He had until the papers were signed, and that was it. Until they were divorced, until he could no longer feasibly call Lev his husband, he had time, however small.
It was a door opening. Seth reached out and accepted the tray with steadier hands than he’d had in the last two days, though he was already lamenting the loss of Lev’s fingers around his own. It had been a warm, tender touch that he hadn’t deserved; and yet he craved it, wanted it more desperately than words could amount to, Seth carefully setting the tray down onto his lap.
He glanced at the food, then up at Lev, and understood the space was deliberate; standing up had been a deliberate attempt at putting distance between them, which also hurt enough to make his chest ache, but Seth put that aside for now.
He couldn’t have everything he wanted, after all.
“I am not skinny,” he said instead, reaching for the food. “I am fine. And yes, I…still eat in bed.”
He took a bite; Seth had forgotten how hungry he was until that moment, his eyes closing, a sigh of relief escaping him involuntarily.
“This is very good.”--------------------------------------------------------------- This was not how he expected things to turn out. Lev wasn’t entirely sure how he wanted things to turn out between them, but after their first meeting, he assumed that it would all go downhill. And maybe it would have had he not been at that club that night. Or doing a photoshoot at the same place Seth worked. Or even at that cafe.
It was almost suspicious how things were lining up for them to cross paths, but maybe that was because they were meant to. Maybe somehow, some way, they were meant to work things out. And if that meant parting on amicable terms, then that was all Lev could ask for.
No, that wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted more than that, but he was still angry and upset and confused and lost. He wanted so much more than he knew how to ask for, and asking Seth… just the idea of asking him was terrifying, because Lev didn’t know how he could handle it if he was pushed away again. If Seth ran again. Maybe not physically this time, but he had every ability to leave and block Lev out.
“You are little skinny,” he half teased, letting Seth eat as Lev moved to sit farther away from him at the end of the bed. The distance between them was just a safety precaution. For himself and for Seth. They were both going through thoughts and emotions they probably hadn’t felt in a long time, or ever.
“Thank you. You have lot of food. It vas difficult to decide what to make,” he admitted, lifting a leg to cross his ankle over his knee. “I vill stay here today. I do not need to be back at hotel until tomorrow. Maybe you could show me your vine collection. I caught glimpse earlier.”
Yes he was snooping. It wasn’t like there was anything personal laying around, anyway. --------------------------------------------------------------- The world, for all its faults and all of its issues, had given him a second chance, sort of. Maybe not the most opportune or the most wanted of second chances; if Seth had gotten a real second chance, he would have wanted to go back in time and not leave in the first place. But even if he could never truly have what he wanted, he could at least, maybe, this time, part on good terms with Lev.
The thought ached. He pushed it aside.
“Am not,” was the (childish) reply, Seth taking another bite and trying not to be too conscious of the distance Lev was deliberately putting between them. He knew it was necessary, but it was hard not to think of the fact that, instead of sitting beside him, Lev had chosen to sit closer to his feet, not quite within reaching distance. Seth’s gaze flickered over his face, over the strong line of his jaw again, over the blue eyes, his expression not quite hiding the longing that seemed to permeate every inch of him, so that he was hyper aware of just how out of control of his own emotions he was.
Lev had a way of breaking down every wall that Seth put up. It had been two years, but all it took was for him to come back and for him to say just a few words, and everything in Seth’s world was somehow knocked out of place again. He had been doing - maybe not well, but he had been surviving. He’d learned to live with himself, or at least try to learn to live with himself.
And now here he was, completely caught off guard, uncertain and nervous and longing in a way he hadn’t been in two years.
His heart lifted, stupidly, at the idea of Lev staying here. The mansion was enormous and big enough for Lev’s apparent need for space now. And it meant he could wake up to seeing him, that he could have him here, in this house, with him for just a little longer, even if that was all he had.
“I have...people who bring in food, it is too much,” said Seth, barely resisting the urge to roll his eyes, not at Lev, but at the caregiver. “They think I will starve here.”
He took another bite, exhaling a breath.
“My vine cellar is...very nice,” said Seth, after another moment. He was unsurprised to hear that Lev had been wandering around the house during his lap; Seth would have done the same thing, if their positions had been reversed. “It is...I have vorked hard to make it such.”
It was probably the only place in the house he had actually spent time on himself.--------------------------------------------------------------- ”I am clearly not the only one who thinks you are skinny,” Lev replied when Seth commented on people bringing in food. It was strange just being able to talk to Seth like this, as if he didn’t hate him, as if Seth didn’t feel the weight of everything he’d done that caused the rift between them. Lev knew that maybe he should try harder, that maybe Seth might one day look at him more than just an old friend and platonic husband, but he also knew that there was really no point.
It was better this way. They could make up enough to part ways on good terms. That was the goal now.
“You vill have to explain it all to me,” he said, still casual about it. “I am not much of vine drinker.” Mostly because he couldn’t really afford it, so he didn’t bother with getting bottles of what was apparently nice wine. “But you should pick vine and I vill make dinner. You still like your steak cooked rare? Unless you prefer to do cooking. Or someone else.”
He didn’t mean to suddenly start pushing himself into Seth’s life, or his plans, so when he realized he was offering up suggestions his expression shifted. It was too easy to fall back into how things used to be. Seth knew Lev liked to cook, but he also didn’t like to get too involved when it was only for that day.
“It is easy to forget that it has been two years since I have seen you,” Lev confessed as he absently picked at a non-existent loose string on his jeans. “There are moments I forget vhat happened and… it is like before.”
It was too painful if he thought about it too much. Because he wanted it to be the same, but it couldn’t.
“Did you really leave because you just did not vant to see me again?” he asked, cautiously. He didn’t believe - couldn’t believe - that it was that easy. Especially after the words Seth had whispered to him, sounding lost and afraid and hopeless. He said he’d missed Lev, that he wanted him to stay, that he wanted to stay in contact with him.
Then why did he leave?
“Did… vas it something I did…?”--------------------------------------------------------------- He gave Lev a sideways glance, even though Lev wasn’t actually looking at him. It was so bizarre; once upon a time they had told each other everything, had spent so much time and so much of their lives together that they sometimes didn’t even need words to talk or to express things. And now there were two years worth of things they hadn’t said to each other, two years worth of things that Seth couldn’t say to him.
They were talking about wine, which was his specialty, and it still hurt in a way that it shouldn’t have, because at least Lev was talking to him, not throwing him a right hook.
And Lev still knew what he liked. The thought warmed him, made his cheeks flush a little.
“I vill teach you vine,” he said, the corners of his lips quirking slightly. “And yes. That is still how I like my steaks.”
Or someone else.
The thought pulsed through him, Seth’s mouth opening, but Lev had kept talking, and now the rest of what he said slowly made its way into Seth’s mind and his heart, everything stuttering, tripping. He became aware of the quiet of Lev’s voice, the soft hurt and betrayal lacing each word, and he wanted, desperately, to take that away, but that was impossible - because he had been the one to cause it in the first place. He, Seth, had been the one to make a mess of things, had been the one to make Lev act the way he had.
”Nyet,” he said, and the word came out raw. The tray was abruptly upended, the contents spilling across the bed, but Seth took no notice of it, moving over to reach for Lev without thinking, a hand closing around his wrist.
”Nyet, Lyova,” said Seth, and his eyes were searching, a desperate note to his voice. “That is not vhy I - “
He broke off, the words sticking in his throat. Why was it so damn hard to talk?
“It vas not you. Not you at all.”--------------------------------------------------------------- Whatever Lev had expected as a response from Seth, it wasn’t him flipping over his tray and reaching for him, a hand around his wrist before he could even think to pull away. Lev stared, his cheeks red from the intensity of Seth’s eyes, the desperation in his voice.
He just didn’t understand. How could Seth react so strongly against him thinking it was him that caused Seth to leave, but he wasn’t able to tell him why he left.
And why did he feel so strongly for this person? It was more than just because they were childhood friends. It was more than just them being married to piss off Seth’s father. He had such a strong desire to stay by Seth’s side that it wasn’t fair, because it wasn’t in the why he wanted. Or thought he wanted. He wasn’t sure. But if Seth had any interest in him, he would have said something by now, right?
“Then vat, Kolya?” he asked, his voice rough and pained to his own ears, his own eyes searching Seth’s face for truth in his words. He allowed him to keep holding onto his wrist, not moving so as not to make Seth think he had to pull away. He wanted him close. Just a little longer.
“Ve could have vorked things out. Ve could have… talked… you did not have to do - vhatever you had to do - alone. Vhy did you not vant me to help?” he asked, the questions that had gone over and over in his mind finally pouring out. The questions that were painful and heartbreaking and…
What could he have done differently? What happened that made Seth leave? --------------------------------------------------------------- The words wouldn’t come. He was trying, desperately, to get them out, to explain, to make Lev realize that he was not the reason that he had left, but everything was garbled in Seth’s mind. It felt pathetic; but it was also, with a sudden jolt of realization, the only time that he was not seen with an easy smile and a sly look on his face, relaxed and confident.
Only Lev had ever seen this side of him and only Lev ever would, because Lev knew him.
He could feel the pulse under his fingertips, could feel the way that Lev was not pulling away, and that meant something too, even if he could also hear the hurt in Lev’s voice. He wanted to take it away, Seth shifting closer involuntarily, his desire to make this right overtaking all of his senses, drawing his legs beneath him so that he was half kneeling now. He couldn’t think past the frustration that was clogging his throat, Seth’s eyes fixed on Lev’s.
He wanted to put the pieces back together, and yet he could never have what he had wanted for so long.
“It vas not you,” he whispered, and his grip tightened a little, Seth staring at him, his heart in his throat. “It vas never your fault.”
Believe me.
Please don’t leave me.
”Вы прекрасны, Lyova,” he said, and the tone was desperate, even to his own ears, and it was different in Russian than it was in English, but the meaning was the same no matter what. Seth’s eyes were wide and dark, the longing in his chest almost a palpable thing.
You are perfect. It’s my fault.
All of this brokenness between this is because of me.--------------------------------------------------------------- This was too much. For both of them. Two long years of not talking and thinking Seth might have been dead, and in less than a week they had… not fixed things, but Lev felt as though things had a chance to change. That was all he wanted. He wanted his friend back, as angry and upset as he was about everything, it was obvious that Seth was… trying.
He just didn’t understand. If it wasn’t his fault, then why did Seth run? Why did he feel like he was alone and needed to escape and disappear from his life forever? There were so many things they could have done. They could have run away together. They could have dropped off the face of the world and laughed about it and all the people who could never give them grief ever again.
But Seth had to run away. He had to disappear and leave Lev by himself, lost and confused and devastated.
It took a moment for the words to sink in, the spill of Russian from Seth’s lips, the desperation there, but there was something else, and it was that something else more than anything that had Lev flushing dark once more, staring back into those dark blue eyes that he loved so much.
The tightness around his wrist was… surprisingly comforting. It was a weight that held him there, that made it so very obvious that Seth wasn’t running away. Lev just… didn’t know how to respond. How was someone supposed to respond to that anyway?
“Я действительно скучал по тебе, Kolya,” he said softly, the words catching a little in his throat. “Я чувствую себя сломанным без тебя.” --------------------------------------------------------------- The room was large; an expanse of white walls and dark furniture, stark in contrast. Plenty of room for them, likely fitting at least one and a half to two small apartments just within its walls, and more expensive than both of said apartments combined together.
And yet, right here and now, it felt like it had shrunk down, reduced itself to just the two of them, and no one else. The world had changed, had shifted until all that was left was himself and Lev, and that was it. For a long, long time that was how Seth had always seen it, had always known, even if he’d never understood why until later, that it was all he had needed. Himself and Lev, against the world. The two of them fighting against everything together, side by side forever, always, no matter what.
He couldn’t get that back. He couldn’t even get the friendship back.
And yet -
I missed you.
I feel broken without you.
Seth dragged in a sharp, unsteady breath, a sudden intake that had his chest almost exploding with emotion. He was staring at Lev with wide eyes still, widening further now, a hot swoop of shame mingled with a burst of what might have been hope but that was tamped down in favor of disbelief and pain and the world was crashing down around him, everything was a blaze of emotions he couldn’t control -
His body moved without thinking, without any thinking at all.
Seth’s hands came up, fingers digging into Lev’s hair, tangling, grasping, and not gently, and without a single conscious understanding of what he was doing, he dragged Lev’s head to him and kissed him hard, full on the mouth.
The world exploded around him.--------------------------------------------------------------- The world stopped.
Not in a million years would he have imagined Seth actually kissing him, clinging to him, fingers digging into his hair so desperately that it hurt. It was as though the physical pain of everything was just a manifestation of how they both felt inside. Or at least how Lev felt. But with how Seth pressed his mouth hard against his own, Lev could only imagine that this was the same for Lev. That he was just as hurt and lonely and miserable without him in his life too.
He was still angry. He didn’t know if he could never not be angry that the past two years he’d spent chasing after a ghost that was actually alive and well in a mansion paid for by the man they both hated. But Seth… he’d always loved Seth. Longer than he could remember. There was no clear moment in time that he realized that he loved his dark haired best friend, because little boys weren’t supposed to love each other like that. He was just confused and needed to be friends with people other than Nikolai Volkov.
But no matter what happened, everything went right back to that confident, cheerful grin, those dark blue eyes, those mostly half thought-out plans that almost always got them in trouble.
Lev had frozen for the few moments following the initial kiss, because it felt more like it was on instinct than anything. Maybe Seth would realize what he was doing, and that he was acting out of emotion rather than really, really thinking about what he was doing.
He jerked his head back, breaking the kiss, his eyes narrowed on Seth’s face, searching for something. Something. Something in those deep blue, beautiful eyes that told him this wasn’t just an act. This wasn’t just because. The line of his jaw tightened, a small noise from sucking at his teeth escaping, and hands lifted to grip tightly on Seth’s shoulders -
And Lev shoved him backwards, away from him, but following him as well. Hands pinned Seth’s upper arms to the bed as Lev kissed him, kneeling over him and keeping him from trying to run away once he snapped out of whatever was going through Seth’s mind.--------------------------------------------------------------- For a terrifying few seconds, he was fully aware of what he was doing. He was kissing Lev Sokolov, and not just a light peck, but a desperate, hard press of his lips to Lev’s, the longing spilling over before he could stop it, like sand through his fingers.
He shouldn’t be doing this. He knew he shouldn’t, it was so dangerous, because Lev had never felt that way about him, Lev had never wanted him that way, and yet Seth had not been able to stop himself. He had not been able to control the way he had lunged forward, or the way that his hands had tangled in Lev’s short hair, gripping strands like a lifeline, not wanting to let go.
And Lev had frozen.
Lev had not kissed him back. Lev was jerking back, staring at him with narrowed eyes, and Seth felt the devastation begin to sink in, the humiliating realization that Lev was going to push him away, that he was going to be disgusted by this, by this thing that he should not have done - and he’d wanted this too badly, and now he’d forced himself, and it was all over, everything was over -
-Seth felt himself shoved violently, his back hitting the comforters.
“Lev-” he started to gasp, desperation in his voice, and then Lev’s mouth was on his and he forgot entirely what it was that he’d been about to say as everything burst into color around him, a cacophony of sound and light and the realization that Lev was kissing him -
Lev’s body was over his, hands pinning him, and Seth fought against them, not to get away, but because he wanted to move, wrenching an arm free to grip Lev’s hair again, a desperate sound escaping Seth’s throat. He kissed back, and it was messy and unrefined, desperate and hungry with a need that had built up for so long it felt like it was scalding his veins, Seth’s lips parting, his fingers on the back of Lev’s neck.
”Lyova - “ he managed to gasp out, and it was spoken against Lev’s lips, because he didn’t - couldn’t - pull himself away. ”Lyova.”
I love you. I love you.--------------------------------------------------------------- Lev knew that this wouldn’t - couldn’t - last. He still needed to leave. They were still getting a divorce (right?). They still had their separate lives to live. Lev had to go back to his small apartment with his brother, despite the better money he was making these days. Seth had to go back to his job as a wine consultant.
This couldn’t last, whatever it was. Because it opened up too many emotions, too many questions that Lev was afraid of the answers to. They couldn’t do this for more than that night.
Which was why Lev didn’t bother holding back. He kissed Seth hard, and when Seth pulled his arm away so he could sink his fingers back into Lev’s hair, Lev did the same with Seth’s hair. He held on tightly as he knelt over him on the bed that had been made a mess from when Seth threw the tray to the side. He obviously didn’t care because he was still focused on kissing him, on gasping out his name against his lips.
At some point, Lev had released his hold on Seth’s other arm as well, his own hand wandering, exploring, pressing against Seth’s side and pulling at the shirt he wore, fingers slipping underneath the fabric, and then his whole palm, smoothing along the expanse of Seth’s body.
He’d wanted so badly to touch him like this, to really feel him, to hold on and never let go. So now that he only had that day to push the limits, to see where it was that Seth finally snapped out of it and realized he didn’t want this, Lev was going to do whatever he wanted.
Fingers were on the back of his neck, and as much as Lev wanted to keep kissing Seth, he pulled his head back just enough to be able to lean closer and press his mouth against his neck, teeth grazing and tongue pressed against the pulse there. Any marks he made would be hidden partially by the dark tattoo that covered Seth’s neck, but he would know it was there. --------------------------------------------------------------- He couldn’t think past the impossible fact that Lev was kissing him back. And not only kissing him back, but kissing him back with just as much angry, frustrating heat as Seth was kissing him, fingers in Seth’s hair, his long, muscular body poised above Seth’s in a way that trapped him in place.
He’d wanted this for so long. So long it felt like he had never breathed until now, so long that his mind seemed to have stuttered to a stop the moment his lips had touched Lev’s, warm and firm, finding the shape of them and opening his own to kisses that bit, hungry and longing.
Lev’s hand was under his shirt now. Seth felt the entire weight of his palm against the bare skin of his stomach, then sliding across his chest, and he couldn’t breathe, his own hands moving, gripping Lev’s arms, his hair, tangling in his shirt, because he wanted to touch and he wanted to feel, and he wanted it do it all at once, so that he could memorize this for what it was.
He didn’t even know what it was. It was chaos, a collision of years worth of pent up longing and desire and adoration and love. Seth was relatively sure that, even with this, Lev did not want him this way, not the way that Seth wanted; he wanted the love and the realness; he wanted everything that he couldn’t have. This was just intensity and physical desire taking form.
He couldn’t stop himself, anyway.
One day. That was it. One night of this, because Lev wasn’t pulling away, because Lev wasn’t looking at him with hatred, and maybe this was some sort of power play, maybe this was some sort of way to exact revenge on him, but it didn’t matter, because Lev’s teeth were on his neck, and Seth felt his lashes flutter, felt the rapid beating of his own heart as he fumbled with Lev’s shirt, yanking at it with an effort to get it off.
One day.
And then it would all be over.
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