Adrenaline

Posted: February 2003
Author: Alex
Type: FCS
Characters: Yorgi/Kirill
Rating: NC-17
Beta: Mayetra
Disclaimer: Theyre not mine and no one pays me!
Summary/notes: Someone said Yorgi was staring at Kirill's ass... this is why.

~~

"Kirill."

Yorgi need say no more than that and Kirill got his weapon ready. For all the emotion he showed, he might have been getting ready to order dinner. He wasn't. He was going to kill a man, a man he didn't even know. He did it for two reasons. Yorgi asked him to do it, and he enjoyed it.

Yorgi watched him, aroused by his cold violence. He watched the lean body stretch out on the floor, watched him aim and fire. He looked over at Yelena, saw her appraising glance. She knew. She saw. The bitch. One of his men lit the absinthe as Kirill burned another notch in his arm with his cigarette.

Yorgi downed the absinthe and smiled at Yelena. Let her think what she would.

The party went on as if nothing had happened. The dead man disappeared. Someone would handle it. Yorgi caught Kirill's eye across the room. The slight nod was all he needed to see. It was enough. He smiled.

**

Hours later, they were back at the castle. The party was a movable one and never seemed to end. The casual observer would not notice who was missing and who wasn't. Yelena noticed. Kolya and Viktor knew, but never acknowledged anything.

Yorgi walked down the long hall to the small room. He was probably more familiar with this room than any other in the castle except his own. He opened the door and stepped inside the room. It was a plain room with a small bed and night table. It was devoid of decoration or personal mementos. Along one wall, however, was an arsenal. There were guns of all types, an assassin's heaven, along with scopes and ammunition, all neatly stacked along that side of the room.

Kirill grabbed him as soon as he was in the door and pinned him to the wall, pistol stuck at the base of his skull. He pressed his body against Yorgi.

"What do you want, Captain?"

"To thank you. You served me well, my friend."

Then, the same as they done countless times before, Kirill relaxed and put the gun on the table. Yorgi turned around slowly to face him. Kirill held up his arm with the long row of scars and one very fresh burn on it. Yorgi kissed it, running his tongue over the scars and gently licking the newest addition, his eyes never leaving the blond's odd flat eyes.

"I live for you, my captain."

"And our dream of perfect Freedom," Yorgi murmured as he kissed Kirill's mouth, his tongue plunging inside as his body crushed Kirill against the wall. As they kissed, Yorgi jerked his hips hard against the other man. "Are you willing to do anything to achieve freedom, my friend?" Yorgi asked breathlessly as he unzipped Kirill's heavy military issue pants.

Kirill's answer was swallowed up by his own moans as Yorgi reached inside and began to roughly stroke him. Kirill knew what Yorgi asked. Yorgi knew that perfect freedom was death; only death could insure absence of pain and loss. It was truly the freedom he sought for himself, for others. Kirill understood this. He embraced it, and when the time came, he would join Yorgi in his perfect freedom.

Yorgi dropped to his knees on the floor. Kirill tangled his hands in his unruly dark locks, and his thoughts were swept away by broad strokes of Yorgi's tongue as he licked his cock. He lost himself in the hot suction as Yorgi sucked him deep and hard, using his hand to add even more stimulation. He knew exactly what Kirill liked and needed, and he provided it. He swallowed his assassin's semen as it spurted out hot and think into the back of his throat.

When every drop had been licked clean, Yorgi rose to his feet and freed his own cock. Kirill stood and turned to face the wall. Yorgi moved close and found his opening with his hand. With only the slick pre-come on his own penis, Yorgi rammed deep and hard into Kirill, banging him against the wall again and again. Yorgi talked to him as he fucked him though the wall, telling him in a low growl how much he loved Mother Russia and how he would free it from the politicians.

He fucked Kirill so hard that neither of them was able to keep his footing and they both fell to the floor, sliding down the wall until Yorgi finished inside a prone Kirill, who said nothing. They both lay there for a long while, trying to get themselves back under control.

Yorgi saw himself in those empty eyes as Kirill watched him zip himself back into his pants. He needed Kirill to remind him that they both would be free soon, truly free.

He nodded to his lover and left the room.

*****

THE END


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