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eyes_adriftAryol laid his gloved hand on the doorknob, testing it silently.
The door was locked, but that was typical. The major took sensible precautions, considering there was a killer loose on base. Not that it could stop someone in Black Ops.
He shifted the lay of his rifle on his back and took out his lockpicks. He wore them on his gear belt in a soft leather case, carried them with him everywhere. That was standard procedure. A sniper never knew when he might have to break into a building in order to find a good nest to shoot from.
Or break into his lover's office in order to drag him to bed.
The lock was easy, and Aryol was good. It gave after a few seconds of work, and he put his lockpicks away and opened the door.
There was someone standing in front of him. Not the major.
A man, broad shouldered and broad chested. A broad brow, too, with short dark hair and a thick jaw. He looked somehow familiar, though Aryol couldn't place him immediately.
The man stared at Aryol, wide-eyed. Aryol wondered if he'd caught someone breaking into the major's office when he saw that Liadov was here too, standing to the side, leaning against the wall. Looking even more languid than usual.
Aryol smiled, slowly.
"Working late?"
The door was locked, but that was typical. The major took sensible precautions, considering there was a killer loose on base. Not that it could stop someone in Black Ops.
He shifted the lay of his rifle on his back and took out his lockpicks. He wore them on his gear belt in a soft leather case, carried them with him everywhere. That was standard procedure. A sniper never knew when he might have to break into a building in order to find a good nest to shoot from.
Or break into his lover's office in order to drag him to bed.
The lock was easy, and Aryol was good. It gave after a few seconds of work, and he put his lockpicks away and opened the door.
There was someone standing in front of him. Not the major.
A man, broad shouldered and broad chested. A broad brow, too, with short dark hair and a thick jaw. He looked somehow familiar, though Aryol couldn't place him immediately.
The man stared at Aryol, wide-eyed. Aryol wondered if he'd caught someone breaking into the major's office when he saw that Liadov was here too, standing to the side, leaning against the wall. Looking even more languid than usual.
Aryol smiled, slowly.
"Working late?"
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no subject
Date: 2009-02-02 08:19 pm (UTC)"You go ahead."
He leaned against the wall, watching Liadov open the door, then followed him inside. As Liadov turned to get the light, Aryol caught him from behind, wrapping his arms around the major's chest, pressing his face against the soft waves of tawny gold hair at the back of Liadov's neck. His chest rested solidly against Liadov's back.
Aryol's grip was firm. He tried not to hold on too hard.
"You weren't being overly demonstrative." He turned his face, whispering against Liadov's ear. "That's not what I...I don't think...I didn't say what I meant. Or something."
His words tumbled into each other, a little staccato. A little disjointed. Aryol took a deliberate deep breath, laughing at himself, exhaling against the major's skin.
"Sorry. It feels like it's been longer than ten days to me, too. It's just that I really like you, Nikanor, and I think it..."
He paused, silent for a beat, only breathing.
"Anyway, that's what I wanted to say. I don't want to make demands on you, because I'm not like that, but I feel...serious."
He let Liadov go then. Aryol turned and pulled his rifle off his shoulder so he could set it down on its customary place on the table, where he left it when he was here.
Aryol shook his head, after a moment.
"Sorry. That was a little heavy."