When all that I've known is lost and found

[chesspolitik]

As Anatoly very carefully made his way through the well-worn path, he thought that Cassie would be rather proud if she knew he was actually out of his hut. She might be less pleased if she knew he was a shade drunk, but that was neither here or there. The important thing was that he was out, actively seeking company from a real person and not the vodka.

He paused in front of Roger's door, suddenly feeling a little anxious. What if he wasn't there? What if he was? The truth was that social situations left him uneasy, something that he hadn't properly realized until now. At home, Molokov had controlled every situation and often given him talking points. Here, he'd allowed Lex to do much the same. Now he had neither and he was realizing this had to change if he wanted to have friends at all.

Screwing his courage to the sticking place, he raised his fist and knocked. "Roger?"

Comments

[chesspolitik]

Anatoly blinked at him in surprise, his brain taking a few moments to shift gears. "I'm sure," he said without hesitation. "This might be the only thing I feel sure about right now."

He knew that if he put deep thought into it, he'd hesitate and the moment would be lost. Maybe this was for one night only, maybe it was would be for me and the only way he'd know is if he took a chance.

He'd been so careful, and had gotten nothing but loneliness and grief. So he'd be reckless - what was the worst that could happen?

"Please Roger," he said, locking eyes with him. "I don't want to be alone. I want - I want this. You. Please."

[one--song.livejournal.com]

Oh God. It was like something erupted within him, and in a single spread of warmth inside, he was kissing Anatoly again, but with such gusto that it may have been read as desperation. A hand secured itself at the back of Anatoly's neck and as his lips rolled over the Russian's, he was struck again by just how fucking much he wanted that and for just how long.

[chesspolitik]

Anatoly leaned into the kiss, relieved that Roger wasn't making any further protests. He wrapped one arm around Roger's waist, noting how much lighter he was than Lex then immediately pushing that comparison back to the darkest recesses of his mind. His other hand wound itself in Roger's curls, marveling at the novel sensation.