comment along the way for motivation! I'm sorry for the shorter chapter. More comments mean faster updates.

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PAST

"STOP GETTING SICK," Y/n swallowed. "And stop getting hurt. It's like an innate talent you have, you know. Would it kill you for once just..."

No; that was a wrong choice for a word. Y/n saw how Andrei stiffened up, his once relaxed position becoming tense. Y/n gave a small sigh and continued to apply the ointment in his wound. And that touch—the feeling of Y/n's hands gently pressing against his flesh, was what made Andrei slacken again. It was unnerving to know the power Y/n had now, over him.

"My brother survived the previous attacks." Andrei murmured. "Unlike what everyone thought, he managed to pull through. And that means the radar is off me; but..."

"...But it means the chances of him being an heir are higher. Because surviving is what makes you...better in the world you live in," Y/n realized, and he gave a small sigh, lowering his head. His hair tickled Andrei's shoulder blade, and he felt how the boy reached out to him with his bandaged fingers; tangling them with his hair. It was soul-crushing, to think of Andrei's shame. The shame of being second-best, the same as being the weak one. Yet in Y/n's eyes, he was always the most brilliant.

"I'm scared you'll leave me one day," Andrei said listlessly. "I'm weak. I have nothing to offer you. I have nothing—"

"—you have offered me your company, Andrei." Y/n smiled, beaming. "And that was more than enough for me. Just...stop getting sick."

"Gives me an excuse to see you more, doesn't it?" Andrei cast a look at Y/n, cracking a small smile. "Isn't that better?"

Y/n was Andrei's friend. Andrei was Y/n's friend. It was frightening—the idea of being so close to someone scared him, yet Y/n was selfish enough to hang onto that proximity he shared with someone with such desperation, with such hunger—Andrei made Y/n feel like they belonged to each other. And that scared him. That terrified Y/n more than he would have liked to admit.

He wanted that place in Andrei's heart. To be number one. But he wasn't...

"You'll..." Y/n closed his eyes. "No, forget it. You know what? If you keep—"

"—what, you aren't going to come again?" Andrei murmured. "You'll come back. You always do. I can say anything, and..."

"...And I'll never abandon you."

It was true. Andrei could have unwrapped the worst things he had done, and Y/n would not flinch. Andrei could have held those bare feelings up to the light and Y/n would not have flinched. Andrei could have come to him: he could have slumped in his arms and could have complained about the burning fever he a plagued with, he could have stayed quiet, and still Y/n would have stayed.

"Yes," Andrei whispered. "Never abandon me. If you stay long enough, I'll give everything to you."

How long had it been since they had met? One month? Two months? Three? The present and the past seemed to be clamming together somehow. There wasn't time to ponder over the future. At home he returned to his father and suffered silently, here he could live freely and love freely, too.

Y/n didn't answer, but he squeezed Andrei's hand. I won't leave, was what he was trying to say. But the words seemed to have gotten choked up in his throat, somehow. There were too many other things he wanted to say that were burying his words down under his tongue.

But it was too hard.

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All time ever did was pass.

Memories came to him in flutters and in spurts. Y/n knew this was what happened all his life: this whole business of clinging to people, shying from them, getting too scared of being fond of them. And perhaps this had been a defense mechanism for him; he had willingly locked up all memories of Andrei...because he was scared of feeling. And yet even in those days when Y/n felt nothing, it was all so surreal: all so...

All of his life he had lived through tragedies and brief moments of happiness and yet—Andrei was both. His life before Andrei had been gloomy and solitary to the point of madness. Life with Andrei had been beautifully tragic because there was the promise of being everything, and yet nothing at the same time. And the moments without Andrei had simply made him shrink further in the corner.

"Stop getting sick," Y/n swallowed. "And stop getting hurt. It's like an innate talent you have, you know. Would it kill you for once just..."

He didn't look at Andrei as he spoke. Their hands were still intertwined and Y/n was desperately trying to seep a little warmth into that coldness. Because why was his body so cold, like he was dead? Yet the eyes that stared at him, staring right through him—it was proof he was alive.

"Just like last time," Andrei smiled softly. "Isn't it?"

"I wish you wouldn't get so hurt." Y/n said numbly, refusing to smile back. His head was in a whirlwind: his thoughts were like flesh constricting under pressure; they were trying to find some sort of sanity, some relief. But there was none. "How did you...a bomb, Andrei. A bomb. Who is this other organization that you speak of?"

"We have been at odds for ages." Andrei brushed it off. "They have failed to kill me again."

And I hope they never do.

"Don't be scared, Moy Sladkiy," Andrei teased, grinning. "In fact, does this not show that you care for me?"

"It's a serious matter," Y/n deadpanned. "Don't joke about it."

"But is that not like Deja Vu? A mirror scene. Just like our childhood. Just like when you made me fall in love with you:it's like I'm falling in love with you all over again, this time faster and harder."

"Andrei," Y/n narrowed his eyes. "Just focus on recovering."

"I think I have a bottle of vodka somewhere. Russo-Baltique," Andrei said mildly, "should we open it?"

"Andrei."

"Don't worry too much, Y/n," Andrei whispered, his fingers tracing patterns on Y/n's palm. "Why are you so nervous? I'm not going anywhere. If anything...I'm scared. I'm the one who's nervous. The one who is...frightened."

Y/n's breaths hitched. "Of what?"

Andrei laughed bitterly, and Y/n dared himself to face him completely and fully.

"Losing you again. Without you, I am nothing. I'll just be a living being that will continue to breathe, go through the cycle of life again...do you know, Y/n? The feeling of loneliness, the feeling of being trapped in something you can't get out of? Those were my days without you. I was nothing but a blip of consciousness; I was nothing but a husk of a person. It was like I wasn't even living anymore. I was alone, and that was my punishment. That was my punishment for not willing you to stay. And now that you are here with me—again, that fear becomes even stronger, greater."

Y/n softened. He tore his eyes away, giving a small sigh.

"You know my grandmother, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Don't continue watering a dead flower. That's what she told me—or us before. I can't exactly remember. I think..." Y/n stared off at a distance, his mouth pressing into a firm line before they opened again. "I think after I left, for god knows why, I realized I was searching for something. For you, maybe. Though I never knew that."

Y/n had broken a promise to forget himself. There was something. A monster, an animal, eating him alive. The bravest thing he had done was continuing his life when he had wanted to die. He was tired of swallowing his thoughts down, tip toeing on insanity, living. Time solved most things—it was supposed to.

And in this case, it did.

"I was homesick," Y/n said quietly, "for you. But the thing, I didn't even...remember you. And yet I yearned for something that never came to me."

"Doesn't this jog your memory? My near-death experience," Andrei laughed softly. "You took care of me. You always did."

"And you fulfilled your promise. You said you would defeat your brother, that you would become the Pakhan of the Russian Bratva and rise to the top. And you did. Well...I didn't know you were referring to the Bratva, but..."

Y/n wondered sometimes. If he had never left, if he had said something, would the rest of his life turn out differently? What about if he had never stumbled upon the window, what about if he hadn't ever seen Andrei sitting there? What if he had just watched? Would they have both been dead by then, whether intentional, or accidental? Or perhaps would fate have allowed them to meet elsewhere?

Would he have found happiness elsewhere?

"I wish I could have loved you as someone else. Because my position puts you in much danger. You worry about me dying? I worry about you, Y/n. Because the Tsar of the Mafia is not supposed to have weaknesses. But you, Y/n," Andrei murmured. "You know it yourself, don't you? That you are my weakness."

His words were like a deep, throbbing ache. The kind that stayed sore, the kind that had the possibility to go away, the kind that could become more bloody, more painful.

"I thought to myself, before. Were you dead? Were you gone forever? Were the gods about to give me a fate worse than death itself by allowing me never to find you? And I thought...what was the use of living? I wasn't supposed to get my hopes too high up, or my plummet would be even more painful." Andrei continued, but on his face there was a blissful expression, like he was content. "But you are here with me now."

"Yes," Andrei whispered. "Never abandon me. If you stay long enough, I'll give everything to you."

It was unfortunate in this situation. Y/n had found himself deep in dangerous waters the moment he had been aware of the life that was happening around him. And Andrei was the same—both had been born in unfavorable circumstances. To others death might have seemed uncommon, rare; special. But it was commonplace here. And life was fragile—Y/n could lose Andrei anytime; he could...

Y/n craved affection; yet he ran from it.

"...Yes," Y/n said after a moment of silence. Then he felt a kiss on his cheek, his nose, his forehead. Then his palm. He looked back at Andrei to see him looking at him with utmost devotion; affection—tenderness.

"Always." Andrei sighed contentedly.

Nervousness, trepidation, fear.

"Always."

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chapter focused on relationship building! stuff happens soon I promise 💓😭

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