Work Text:
After years of desperate search, Fyodor finally had a solid lead. At last, something had appeared, more certain than a mere rumour, more tangible than an urban legend.
Although the trail was not entirely clear, it provided a rough direction to follow. There was something in the middle of the city he had lived all his life; an answer that had been hiding right under his nose all along. Perhaps he had walked by it many times, as it had been concealed in the shadows; or, perhaps it always vanished into thin air just before he could catch a glimpse of it…
Fyodor made his way along the winding narrow streets of the old town, the low heels of his shoes ticking on the cobblestone ground in a steady rhythm. The shadows lurking in the corners seemed to come to life, becoming more distinct as if awakening from a slumber and ready to roam the city during their favourite dark hours. The setting sun’s last vibrant colours were quickly fading away, giving way to the gathering inky clouds; soon the only thing left above would be the blurred floating shapes.
A bolt of lightning struck the sky as if trying to slice it to pieces.
Chills ran down Fyodor's body as the first raindrops landed on his face a moment later. The faint melody of their patter against the tile roofs and the windowsills rang out, drifting in the air, a premonition of a fateful event. From above, the trickling streams of rainwater on the red tiles looked like droplets of blood running down and dripping onto the ground.
Fyodor picked up his pace, sensing that it was nearby, his destination, he could feel it in his bones... No, that was rather the cold he was going to catch due to the rain.
The little bell above the door rang as Fyodor pushed it open in a hurry to escape the heavy downpour outside. As soon as the sound of the door closing died away and Fyodor managed to catch his breath, he looked around the small bookshop where he had found himself. It was unlike any other he had visited before, he quickly realized. Despite years of research and visits to countless libraries and bookstores, he had never stepped foot inside this one. He knew the literary world by heart, a map of all the places related to literature was etched on the back of his hand, and this was certainly a new addition. It didn’t look new at all, though.
The walls were lined with shelves holding thousands of books, some of which were piled on the floor almost reaching the high ceiling and they seemed to wobble, threatening to topple over him at any moment, in the flickering light from a single light bulb. There didn't seem to be any organization - books old and new, some with glossy white sheets and others with pages yellowed with age; hardcover books with gilt lettering, or cheap paperbacks, a few of which with no covers at all…
“Achoo!” Fyodor’s moment of fascination and tranquillity was interrupted by the dampness of his hair and clothes. Well, the peaceful two-month streak of being cold-free was coming to an end- Fyodor winced and instinctively stepped back. A man had appeared before him out of nowhere and was carefully studying him. Fyodor tried to regain his composure which made the stranger chuckle.
“No, no! Don’t worry!” he waved a hand, “I love surprised faces!” Fyodor was sized up and down, the stranger’s eyes lingering on his lips a bit too long for Fyodor’s preference. His eye, rather. Only one was visible; the other one was hidden behind a playing card. A broad smile spread across the man’s face, but it didn't seem genuine, it was more of an act. “Anything I could help you with?”
“I… I was just passing by… I’ll look around, I suppose. Thank you,” Fyodor resolved against revealing his intentions from the start. In any case, the man standing in front of him didn't seem like someone Fyodor could trust. Caution was of the utmost importance, especially considering his plans.
“Ah, but dear!” the man whined. “I don’t even get customers that often anymore! No one seems interested in crossing the threshold of my little shop! Have mercy on this one and let Gogol help you! Hmm?” The wide-opened eyes and the pitiful look on his face… it took a few charming blinks for something to break in Fyodor’s resolve.
Fyodor didn’t even manage to nod properly before the- Gogol, was sighing in relief and raising his hands, pressed together, in front of his heart.
“What a marvellous day! All thanks to you, my dear!” He suddenly reached out, making Fyodor flinch, and the next moment a rose was floating before Fyodor’s narrowed eyes.
“First customer gets a free magic trick!” Gogol winked. “For you!”
Fyodor had no choice but to take the rose, and mentally rolled his eyes as he followed Gogol further into the bookstore, carefully walking past piles of books and trying not to knock them to the ground and wreak havoc in this already chaotic place. The man leading him in an unknown direction was telling a story, something along the lines of no visitors and no surprised faces for the past eternity, as his long white braid swung lazily with his movements.
No wonder, Fyodor thought. First, Gogol himself had admitted that Fyodor was his first customer; and it was nearing closing time... And if he, who knew all there was and all that was happening in the literary world, had never set foot in that shop, how could anyone else have? It was sheer luck that Fyodor, at last, was able to find the place.
It was a combination of factors; the time of day as well as the weather. If it hadn't rained so unexpectedly, if Fyodor hadn't been in desperate need of shelter from the rain… It was on the brink between day and night, the hour when boundaries thin to transparency, when the worlds are brought incredibly close together and exist on the verge of each other so that they almost merge into one whole…
"Ah! You mean ~The Book~" Nikolai almost sang the words as his face beamed with excitement and sparkles seemed to fly out of his uncovered eye, illuminating the space around.
In the end, it turned out Fyodor had no choice but to ask the annoying owner of the bookstore. There was no way to find anything in that mess without Gogol’s help. And just as expected, he became even more insufferable. Fyodor continued to stare at the man expectantly, his expression unwavering.
"I see, I see~" Nikolai smirked mischievously and put an index finger to his lips. "But, dear... how unfortunate! You seek my most precious book! What is to be done now!?" his face twisted into a grimace of something between pity and terror. "Let’s say, if you answer my quiz right, I shall consider giving you... a page."
"A page!?" Fyodor’s eyes widened in bewilderment.
"A page!" A gleeful exclamation pierced the air as Nikolai’s Cheshire grin returned to his face.
"What good is a single page?"
"You don't have to agree."
"I accept the offer," determination showed through Fyodor's voice. "The quiz?"
Nikolai’s smile grew even wider, if that was even possible, before an ominous whisper escaped his lips. "What is the page worth?"
What!?
‘The most precious book’...
"It cannot be bought with money then?"
"Correct!" Nikolai leaned in closer as if he was about to reveal the greatest secret known to mankind. "It’s worth much more, of course!"
"I’ll pay," he had come so far, there was no way he was going to back down now! Money or not, he would get the page.
"Are you sure?"
"Of course I’m sure. Are you?"
"You're willing to pay anything without knowing the price?"
"Tell me."
In the blink of an eye, Nikolai had moved so close that Fyodor felt the warm puffs of breath tickling his skin.
"There's no going back from here," Nikolai whispered, holding Fyodor's gaze steadily. The latter gave a single short nod. "If you spend the night here and make it out alive, the page is yours!"
Chills ran down Fyodor's spine and he felt the goosebumps creeping up his arms and neck. Whatever he might have expected, it definitely wasn’t this. Despite the unforeseen conditions, he had no choice. There was no going back and he never intended to go back anyway.
The raindrops were furiously hitting the windows of the bookstore and the deafening sound of thunders could be heard in the distance. The storm didn't seem to be dying out any time soon, so maybe staying a little longer than planned wasn't such a bad idea.
Really, Fyodor had no other choice given the situation.
Fyodor trailed after Nikolai up the winding staircase to the second floor of the building and found himself sinking into the soft velvet armchair across the room from Nikolai. Not that Nikolai spent much time sitting there in the hours that followed, actually. He was constantly jumping up and running around, muttering something under his breath, and each time he sat back in his respective armchair, he held a different book.
It was a curious place, Fyodor noted again, trying to see through the incense smoke that enveloped the room. It was intoxicating and he felt lightheaded, but at least the scented candles made it more bearable – a mix of vanilla, sugar and a fragrance so reminiscent of sunflowers, wild fields and summer…
The grandfather clock to Nikolai’s left struck midnight. Fyodor didn’t trust it; it looked like it hadn’t been wound up in a while, or perhaps it was completely broken, as sometimes its hands moved backwards. Nikolai didn’t glance at it once, but instead, he never failed to turn the sandglass on the small table. According to Fyodor’s watch, however, that didn’t follow any pattern either – it seemed like Nikolai was just doing it whenever it occurred to him. It wasn’t worth trying to make sense of anything in this place, so Fyodor turned his attention back to the book in his hands.
It was going to be quite a long night. Fyodor sighed and closed the book. His eyes stung from all the smoke and the dim candlelight. Another book was closed on the other side of the room. Nikolai was watching him with interest, but when their eyes met he chuckled and stood up. He walked over to Fyodor, offering him a hand, and soon they were exploring yet another room full of books. It was fascinating how many there were, seemingly in all languages, some dating back centuries.
Despite the cool air in these rooms, Nikolai’s body radiated alluring warmth, making Fyodor unconsciously cling closer to him. Once they were back in the comfortable armchairs, Nikolai offered to make some tea. A thoughtful offer, given that Fyodor was practically shivering by then.
A pleasant aroma and a weird note in the flavour. Fyodor was determined to get out of there alive, but he certainly wasn’t going to leave the cup of tea full. Especially not when Nikolai was observing him so intently while sipping the drink poured from the same teapot. A raspberry tint and a mysterious smile danced across Nikolai’s lips as he leaned to pick up the empty cup. Maybe Fyodor’s lips too were pained in the same shade…
It was long past midnight when the rainstorm finally came to a halt and before long even the faint drizzle faded. Nikolai had retired to work on something in one of the small back rooms, and Fyodor was left to his own devices.
The room had fallen into a pleasant silence as the familiar silvery moonlight crept through the thick clouds to illuminate the room. Some fresh air carrying a scent of rain would be refreshing, flashed through Fyodor’s mind and he stretched his body before walking over to the window.
A delightful melody was coming from somewhere in the neighbourhood, the sound of the notes wafting through the night, hypnotizing Fyodor further as his eyelids grew heavy with fatigue. He propped his elbows on the windowsill and looked up at the clear night sky. Under the lulling sound of crickets, he found himself lost in thoughts. The only movement before his eyes was that of fireflies darting in all directions against the dark blue background.
A light touch snapped Fyodor back to reality. He hadn’t noticed when Nikolai had moved to stand beside him, nor when he had put his hand on the small of Fyodor’s back.
As if sensing that Fyodor was no longer lost in that reverie of his, Nikolai hummed quietly. He was standing much closer than Fyodor had initially assumed, as the sudden exhale tickled the side of his head.
This was not appropriate, and all things considered, Nikolai had no right to take advantage of his position. It was a matter of power, and Fyodor still had the situation under his control. He could leave at any moment, even without the page, and make Nikolai regret his actions for the rest of his life. Or, Fyodor could put an end to it right away… He tried to turn around-
Fyodor felt weightless as if floating in space. The room vanished and then immediately appeared before his eyes, as well as vague black spots that were floating around, but it was all from a different perspective. Something was touching his face and a saccharine scent caressed his senses.
“You…” Nikolai’s voice. It was deeper than before, the vibrations of it washing over Fyodor. “Are you okay?”
Fyodor shifted, straightening his back. Nikolai's hands were still lingering on the sides of his waist as if he was afraid Fyodor would feel dizzy again. But even like that, standing to his full height and his face mere inches from Nikolai’s, Fyodor had to tilt his head up to meet his eyes. The playing card was no longer hiding half of his face and for the first time Fyodor noticed the difference in the colours-
Humiliating! Needing to be held, being held… disgusting and sinful and- Before he could consider carefully his following action, however, Fyodor found himself raising on his toes and his lips landed on Nikolai’s, a brief touch… He realized what was happening far too late and broke the kiss.
Well… now, that was even more mortifying! Nikolai was looking at him stunned, a faint blush spreading over his face and down his neck, his lips slightly parted… Fyodor tore his eyes away.
"...Nikolai?"
"Hm?"
"Is this why you wanted me to stay?"
"What!?... No, no... I-" he gulped and locked his eyes with the amethyst ones that were waiting inquiringly. "Do you want it to be?"
“I would be rather disappointed if it weren’t.”
The thing that flashed in Nikolai’s eyes should have frightened Fyodor. In the brief moment of stillness that followed, he should have slipped away and fled this cursed place.
His body couldn’t move, it wouldn’t obey even if he ordered it to run.
Nikolai had already pushed him back, pinning him against the frame of the open window. Fyodor’s chest heaved as hands trailed down his body and Nikolai lifted him onto the windowsill without breaking the kiss. His legs locked instinctively behind Nikolai’s hips, the sudden pressure sending waves of pleasure through him.
With both of them out of breath, Nikolai finally broke the kiss. Fyodor drew in a long breath as Nikolai rubbed the tip of his nose up his neck, now and then leaving feather-light kisses as short puffs of breath further warmed Fyodor’s skin. Nikolai nipped on the delicate skin below his ear and pressed more insistently, causing a quiet whimper to escape Fyodor’s lips. Hands slid under his shirt, moving up until they found his nipples and began tracing circles around them before pinching them lightly-
“Wait,” Fyodor gasped and tried to push Nikolai away but the pressure didn’t ease and instead Fyodor found himself nearly losing his balance. The only thing keeping him from falling backwards was the not particularly strong support of the metal railing, which dug deeper into his back that began to tingle with dull pain… and Nikolai’s hands. Despite the natural fear of not having stable ground beneath his feet, Fyodor realized that Nikolai was holding him firmly. For now, at least. Fyodor locked his arms tighter around Nikolai’s neck.
“If you press more, I’ll fall,” Fyodor said between the gasps for air. Nikolai didn’t react, as if he had heard nothing at all and his tongue returned to Fyodor’s open mouth, making him dizzy and craving for more… “Are you trying to kill me?”
With a last nibble at Fyodor’s lower lip, Nikolai pulled away and muttered: “I’ll save you first, don’t worry…”
Either that or Fyodor was going to pull him down too as they both fell to their deaths…
Just as their lips were about to connect again, a sudden noise almost made Fyodor jump. A rustling of leaves and a flutter of wings came from behind. An eerie screeching into the night and something black flashed quickly in Fyodor’s peripheral vision.
“Shh,” Nikolai tried to calm him down… or rather, to draw Fyodor’s attention back to himself. And it worked; Fyodor turned to him but the moment of silence wasn’t destined to last long, for just as their eyes met, the deafening sound of church bells rang through the air.
3 am
Fyodor shivered.
“Quite noisy here, isn’t it?” a mischievous smirk danced on Nikolai’s lips.
“Mhm.”
What happened next was too fast for Fyodor to comprehend. There was a flash of silver light, he felt his body being held tightly and everything was so sweet as the world spun around… It wasn’t in the usual way, there was something new that Fyodor couldn’t quite place.
“Better?”
He opened his eyes. The lighting was different, warmer. As if coming through a veil. The cool breeze from the open window was gone. Fyodor backed away, trying to slip out of Nikolai’s grasp, who just chuckled and let go of him. But he was prevented from moving further back by the thing that his leg hit.
“Clever,” Fyodor remarked and was met by the momentary shock of Nikolai's face, which, however, was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
“I know!”
“You’re full of surprises-” Nikolai glided towards him carefully absorbing every word, “-fascinating!” Fyodor concluded his observation, sitting down on the bed, and slowly crawled back, further from Nikolai.
“Then why don’t you show me your surprised face already?”
“You must earn it,” he relaxed on the silken cushions; the dancing silhouettes created by the flickering candlelight just barely reached the ceiling above. It was getting late, indeed.
Nikolai knelt on the bed and in a moment he was next to Fyodor again. “You’re not going to make room for me?” he asked with feigned exasperation.
“There’s plenty of space.”
“Mm,” Nikolai shook his head as his hand trailed up Fyodor’s leg. “There.”
Fyodor propped himself up on his elbows and looked at the annoying smile on the other man’s face.
“Feeedya… your legs?”
“What?”
“Open them for me, hm?”
“You’re not going to tell me-” but he didn’t get to finish his sentence because a hand suddenly grabbed one of his ankles and Nikolai quickly shifted between his legs.
“You were saying?”
Fyodor felt his breath catch as their bodies pressed against each other, sending waves of pleasure through him and a faint giggle escaped Nikolai’s lips.
“I’ll win my surprised face, Fedya! Just wait and see!” His fingers caressed Fyodor’s jaw before threading their way through his hair, and Nikolai leaned in to connect their lips, quickly deepening the kiss. Soon the fingers retreated from Fyodor’s hair and he felt Nikolai fumbling with the buttons of their shirts all the while continuing to kiss him senseless.
It was all pushed to the ground, a puddle of white ruffles and black satin.
Fyodor reached out, his gaze following the movements of his hand as it slowly slid down Nikolai’s chest, his fingertips trailing a path across the hot skin. Nikolai shuddered; he snatched Fyodor’s wrist and brought it closer to his face, placing gentle kisses on each finger before his lips moved down Fyodor’s arm to his collarbones and neck.
The grip of the hand holding Fyodor’s hip grew firmer, nails digging into his skin until the pain became but a dull reminder that something had been there. He gasped when it finally moved. The lips sucking on his neck curved into a smile and Nikolai shifted to kiss him again, absorbing all the little gasps and moans he managed to draw out of Fyodor.
The hand reached its destination and teased him before long fingers wrapped around Fyodor who groaned, feeling a sudden rush at the touch and his hips moved forward into Nikolai’s hand of their own accord.
“Shh,” Nikolai whispered into Fyodor’s ear. “Is this why you accepted to stay?”
Fyodor’s eyes flew open. Only now did he become aware of the soft strands of silver hair tickling his face. He let go of the sheets, his fingers numb as he wrapped his arms around Nikolai’s body, holding onto him tight.
One, two… His fingers traced Nikolai’s spine before reaching the soft hairs at the nape of his neck and then slid back down along his back. One… One, two… It was no good, his mind was far too gone for that; he settled on twirling the short strands that had escaped the braid. His skin tingled, his senses aflame with pleasure-
“Ow!” Nikolai yelped at the sudden sharp pull.
“Oh! I didn’t mean to-”
“No, do it again!... Just make sure I have hair left after, ‘kay?”
…Fyodor threw his head back, his eyes squeezed shut until at last Nikolai withdrew his hand. The mattress dipped as he lay down beside Fyodor.
It took Fyodor some time to come to his senses and regain control of his ragged breathing. After finally opening his eyes, he tilted his head to look at Nikolai.
His heart seemed to forget how to work at the sight of him sprawled on the bed completely naked with only the red hair tie left from his former attire, barely holding on at the end of his dishevelled braid. Nikolai glanced back at him and smiled… a tender smile so different from those he had offered Fyodor earlier. A thrill shot through Fyodor’s body and all exhaustion seemed to disappear.
Suddenly, he found himself crawling over to Nikolai’s legs and leaning down until he could take him into his mouth. Nikolai moaned at the feeling of Fyodor’s lips around his length and his back arched off the bed.
Fyodor pushed him down and caressed the inside of his trembling legs, hands sliding up and down until at last resting on his hips. He slowly lifted his head and soon fell into a steady rhythm, feeling the man beneath him becoming delirious, an inaudible mumble slipping out of his lips every now and then.
Nikolai reached to thread his fingers through the black strands of Fyodor’s hair, pushing those that had fallen in front of his face and tucking them behind his ear. At the gentle caress on his forehead, Fyodor looked up. Beyond the thin veil of tears, he could see Nikolai’s flushed cheeks and his intent gaze.
“F-Fedya…” ‘Fedya’, how sweet it sounded; something no one had dared call him in years…
“Hmm,” the vibration of his voice sent a shockwave through Nikolai’s body and already pushed so close to the edge, he came in Fyodor’s mouth.
“Fedya…” the faint whisper vanished before it could reach him.
Fyodor pulled away and planted a soft kiss on his thigh before leaning over to observe the lying man. Nikolai was panting, his chest moving up and down, slower, his plump lips slightly parted. Fyodor reached to cup his chin and murmured between kisses:
“Don’t fall asleep now.”
“I’m not…” his eyes fluttered open. “Weren’t you tired?” Fyodor shook his head. “Very well then,” Nikolai smiled and rolled them over, pinning Fyodor down…
The little silver bell above the front door rang.
Nikolai popped out of nowhere, a grin already plastered on his face as he exclaimed:
“Here am I! How could I- … Fedya?”
Fyodor chuckled, “You indeed love surprised faces, don’t you?”
“Wha-what are you doing here?”
“I’m afraid that,” Fyodor cleared his throat and eyed the new stacks of books piled against the opposite wall. “My plan must be flawless, I hope you understand. I can’t afford to leave room for… for- I have to make sure it won’t fail.” A confused expression marred Nikolai’s face. “I need another page. Just in case! That’s all.”
“Oh…” Nikolai narrowed his eyes and put an index finger on his chin. “That could prove to be a problem. It’s against the rules… But maybe once there are no more pages left, I won’t have to stay here… Ah, what should I do!? Okay, then for my favourite customer-”
“I’m your only customer.”
“Precisely! That’s why you’re my favourite one!”
“How flattering.”
“It is, right!?” Nikolai clapped his hands with a proud smile. “Let’s see if you can survive!”
…
