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The Broken Heart's twyrine tasted awful, and Daniil had enjoyed bonding over its awfulness with friends old and new when the atmosphere changed and the pit of his stomach dropped out. He could see how Artemy was looking at him. He could see the laughter in Andrey's eyes, recognising that look.
Artemy wanted to fuck him.
Daniil figured he might as well get the hassle of sex over and done with, downed the contents of his glass in one go before pulling on his coat, and waited for Artemy to join him for the walk back to the Stillwater.
"I enjoyed tonight," Artemy said as they left the Broken Heart, and Daniil forced a smile, knowing the script off by heart.
"Will you walk me home?"
Artemy looked at him for a moment before taking his wrists, tracing his thumbs over Daniil's pulse points and waiting for something Daniil couldn't guess at. After an awkward pause, Daniil cleared his throat, if only to break the silence.
"Another time," Artemy said before letting go and walking off in the direction of his own home, looking back over his shoulder just once before disappearing into the night.
Daniil wasn't sure whether to be offended or relieved. Mostly, he was just confused.
Sex in the Capital was a simple affair. Andrey had introduced him to the process at university, once assured that Daniil had lost his virginity the 'natural' way - blind drunk with a stranger at a party. Andrey would talk their way into clubhouses where Daniil would strike conversations up with other men, wait for them to stop pretending to listen to him, and drink whatever they offered before he would be taken into a back room and fucked.
Sometimes they only wanted his hands or his mouth, but more often than not they wanted him bent over. For a few hours he would hear his praises sung for being small, soft-voiced, and pretty, and there seemed no shortage of men willing to provide that service, just as Andrey had promised him on his first venture into that world.
"You're a born entertainer, my friend. Anyone would love you for an evening."
Another night, Artemy invited Daniil to come with him on a herb picking walk. Daniil knew by now to wear boots and warm clothes when leaving town for the steppe, and Artemy was similarly well-wrapped up for the occasion.
Cold air and marshland weren't exactly known for their erotic potential, and once he found somewhere he could stand on without his boots sinking into mud, Daniil asked, "What am I doing here?"
Even in the dark, Daniil could see Artemy's frown. "I've given you plenty of reasons to be scared of me. I want to fix that, before anything else changes."
Daniil sneered. "And you thought taking me for a walk in the dark, in the middle of nowhere, would help?"
"If I bring you home safely, yes."
As fundamentally flawed as that logic was, Daniil could understand it. "I have a gun, you idiot."
"I don't want you to need it if I kiss you."
Daniil was struck by the image of holding a gun to Artemy's head while kissing him, and laughed despite himself. "No, I suppose you wouldn't."
Artemy's frown softened, and Daniil felt something inside himself soften with it.
Daniil didn't remember losing his virginity. He remembered the man he'd lost it to, if only just - a tall and slim figure with mousy brown hair, and a long but attractive enough face. Daniil had drunk too much to remember the night's events, but the evidence of them had dried on his stomach, and remained dried under his clothes as he was briskly shown out of the stranger's home.
The few friends who knew Daniil's preferences cheered for him when they found out, but it was hard to feel proud of something he didn't remember.
The news spread quickly, Andrey and others teasing Daniil for no longer being forbidden fruit, and Daniil soon found he could have his pick of men as long as he didn't ask too many questions.
He could save being clever for university. If he wanted company in his free time, that demanded a different kind of clever mouth.
"You don't have to fuck me if you don't want to," Daniil said, once he was sure the children were out of earshot.
"Boleesh!" Artemy snapped, setting down his tools. "Oynon, Daniil, you're not ready. I'm not ready. I don't want to hurt you."
"Why should it matter if it hurts? It's just sex, if we just get it over with and go back to being friends -"
"Of course it matters!" Artemy shouted, and Daniil's blood ran cold, froze him in place. Artemy's face fell. "Of course it matters," he repeated, softer.
"Don't touch me," Daniil spat.
"I won't," Artemy said, sitting down, and Daniil willed his body to do anything but cry in response to the small relief of Artemy removing the threat imposed by his height.
"I don't know what you want from me."
"Neither do I."
"I'm so fucking lonely. I wanted - I thought -" Daniil grit his teeth, pained by the admission. "I thought you actually liked talking to me."
"I do." Artemy had the decency to look somewhat abashed when Daniil narrowed his eyes. "Most of the time. When you aren't being insufferably pretentious."
Daniil snorted, figuring he probably deserved that. "I don't want you to tire of me."
"I haven't tired of you yet. What makes you so sure I'd tire of you now?"
Artemy held up his hands and Daniil stared at them a moment before remembering that strange night at the Broken Heart, placed his wrists into them so that Artemy could trace his pulse points again.
Daniil let himself relax, finally understanding what Artemy had been searching for that night. After a few minutes of calm Artemy stood up, chest to chest with him, close enough that Daniil could feel his warmth. Close enough that Daniil could feel the rise and fall of every breath he took.
Daniil wanted him, and closed his eyes to memorise that feeling.
As irony would have it, the problem with fucking strangers was that it got so repetitive after a while. People still wanted him - he was still young enough and still pretty enough - but their desire had grown as mind-numbing as alcohol. Besides, Daniil had seen men who'd aged out of the role he filled, some plastered with makeup to try and hide their lost beauty, and the thought of that as his future made him feel ill.
Andrey always knew where there were boundaries to be broken, and introduced Daniil to new friends and new experiences; mixing pain and pleasure was the order of the day in these clubs, and Daniil's skin, which had always bruised like a peach, was the perfect canvas for so many artists.
They taught him new words for "no" and "stop", and he did all that he could not to use them. He wanted the admiration of those testing his limits, he wanted to prove to himself he had nothing to fear.
When Daniil woke with a blinding headache, bruised throat, and someone with a knife cutting him free from the ropes that had choked him, he knew he had grown addicted to danger.
But that danger made him feel something, and the addiction to adrenaline kept bringing him back.
The air had felt heavy from the moment Artemy put Sticky and Murky to bed, heavier still when Artemy took him by the hand and led him to his own bedroom, leaving Daniil lightheaded. He wondered if he had felt this sort of excitement back when he lost his virginity, or if the alcohol would have dulled the experience, then decided it was better not to dwell. He had lost that memory; he had a chance to create a new one now.
Artemy closed the door, locked it, and led Daniil to the bed to lie down.
"We don't have to do anything," Artemy said, and Daniil, tired of waiting, kissed him.
Artemy's lips were softer than he had imagined, giving way easily as Daniil nudged them open, wanting the heat of his mouth.
It was the permission Artemy had needed to touch him in return, grabbing at Daniil's sides with those warm, rough, beautiful hands, searing everywhere he touched. Daniil slipped a hand under his sweater, over his stomach, marvelled at the heat of him. It was like a furnace burned inside him, and Daniil thrilled at the thought of stoking that fire.
Daniil knew they didn't have to rush things, but the temptation just to know got the better of him as he reached down, feeling the shape of Artemy's cock through his pants, and that earlier lightheadedness returned with a vengeance when he found it hard.
"Don't let me ruin you," Daniil said, "God, please, don't let me ruin you."
Artemy rolled on top of him, kissed him again with those soft lips, framed his face with those warm hands. "You won't."
Daniil could barely breathe, a knot tight in his throat, and Artemy's eyes widened with recognition.
"You aren't spoiled."
Daniil thought about hitting him, biting him, kicking him, doing something to prove him wrong, but Artemy's hands held him steady. His eyes, so sure, so unwaveringly certain, kept Daniil pinned, and Artemy stroked through his hair, blunt nails scraping blissfully against his scalp.
Daniil wanted to believe him.
"Can we just sleep?" Daniil asked, and Artemy nodded, shifting down the bed to rest his head on Daniil's chest.
Artemy fell asleep quickly, or at least feigned it well, and with the weight and warmth of Artemy covering him, it wasn't hard for Daniil to follow suit.
The first time Daniil had a panic attack during sex, the man fucking him had left.
He just got up, dressed quickly, and left.
Daniil still remembered the exact sound the door had made when it slammed shut.
Daniil woke up underneath Artemy, unsure how long he had slept for. Artemy's head was still a heavy, almost uncomfortable weight on his chest, and he wore an endearingly determined frown as he slept, as if his dreams required concentration.
Daniil reached down to press his thumb between Artemy's eyebrows, stroking away the frown, and smiled when Artemy stirred at the touch.
The smile turned into a laugh when Artemy sat up, and Daniil could see the indents his shirt buttons had left on half of Artemy's face.
"I branded you in my sleep," Daniil teased, and Artemy rubbed his cheek before looking down at Daniil's shirt and groaning.
"That's enough of that," Artemy grumbled, starting to unbutton Daniil's shirt to prevent any further 'branding'.
It was only when Artemy's fingers brushed over Daniil's stomach that a spike of arousal shot through him. Daniil's morning erection, previously disregarded, twitched with purpose, and when Artemy finished opening his shirt, Daniil took Artemy's hand and pressed it between his legs. Even through cloth, the strength of that hand felt good.
Artemy didn't ask any questions, palming Daniil roughly before unbuckling his pants, Daniil arching his hips to let Artemy pull them down just enough.
He could have cried when he heard a knock at the door, but Artemy didn't take his eyes off him, or his hands.
"Give me ten minutes," he shouted, the rough skin of his palms making Daniil shiver, and Daniil almost, almost forgot to bite his tongue when Artemy bent to take him in his mouth.
It was the sight of him as much as anything else that made Daniil's pulse race, even if Artemy was still fully clothed; Daniil loved the breadth of his shoulders, the width of his arms, and the way his long dark eyelashes fanned against hollowed cheeks.
Any other time he would have wanted to last longer, but the threat of further interruptions meant there was little point in trying, and the rough skin of Artemy's hands and wet heat of Artemy's mouth felt so good. He tugged on Artemy's hair to warn him, but Artemy only took the warning as a cue to suck harder, to gently squeeze his balls, and Daniil spilled into his mouth with a harsh gasp.
Daniil wished he could read Artemy's face better, but he seemed satisfied enough as he pulled away with red, wet lips, tucking Daniil back into his pants and buttoning his shirt up enough to be decent. "Come on. Sticky will get cranky if we miss breakfast."
Daniil sat up and rested a hand on Artemy's thigh, feeling pleasantly drained. "I haven't done anything for you, yet."
Artemy shook his head, pressed a kiss to Daniil's shoulder. "You're wrong about that," Artemy said, squeezing Daniil's hand before removing it from his thigh, getting up, and unlocking the door, leaving it open for Daniil as he left.
Daniil sat a moment longer, taking in the room's modest furnishings, the smell of sweat and coffee, the knowledge he was welcome to stay. He could get used to this lifestyle, if he tried. Artemy clearly wanted him to.
Artemy's world was so much smaller than the Capital's.
But Daniil hoped it was one he would never tire of.