As a general rule, Danny tried not to have too much wine while drinking alone away from home. It was something heâd carried with him for years, born first of the concern of an immigrant navigating a brand new country, wary of the unknown, and later of the knowledge that had come from falling into sex work. Being drunk alone amongst the members of Moscowâs criminal underbelly was dangerous. Now, it was more habit, than anything else.
And a founded concern that he would do something like this.
Were he sober, he could say that this whole thing wasnât any one personâs fault. Heâd gotten drunk, and Luka could have maybe taken a little more care in his radio calls, and Nikolai...
Well, Nikolai could put his dick in whoever he wanted. Except that the more Danny had had to drink as the evening wore on, the less he liked that thought. So Nikolai could sleep with whoever struck his fancy, but when Danny had done it while they were living together, it became a Thing whenever Nikolai found out about it.
And then Danny had moved out. They had said it was always meant to be a temporary living arrangement (as much as Danny had hated that idea) and Nikolai hadnât stopped him when heâd brought it up, and then...
And then nothing. Nikolai had backed all the way off, without so much as maintaining regular radio contact. Sometimes Danny heard from him, but for the most part, he didnât.
Generally, that meant things were over, move on.
But this was Nikolai. Nikolai, who heâd had sex with more than a few times. Nikolai, who heâd lived with for years. Nikolai, whoâd asked him to move to a new country with him. Nikolai, whoâd bought him dogs, and continued to insist on making wire transfers to keep those dogs well cared for, even on Dannyâs relatively small earnings.
Nikolai, who was regularly fucking other people.
Mm, yeah, there it was. His anger, red hot and wine-fueled.
Danny played up how drunk he was (or just let more of the reality seep through) to convince the man at the front desk to let him in and buzz him up to Nikolaiâs stupid, whole-floor condo.
He didnât have his key anymore, but that was fine.
If Nikolai was out again, Danny would wait at the door.
His anger existed without real direction. At Nikolai, sure. The argument could be made that it was largely centered around sex. Further than that, dating. But truthfully, there wasnât a solid concept for it to rally behind.
He was going to walk up to---the elevator doors slid open---that door, knock, and when Nikolai answered... Just start yelling, maybe. There were plenty of places to start.
They werenât together, and yet heâd nearly killed Church for having the audacity to go through the motions of courting Danny. They werenât together, and yet he had always expressed massive levels of concern whenever Danny came home later than usual.
The door thundered under his fist.
Nikolai was fucking other people, and he wasnât even being subtle about it.
The door fell away before Danny could continue his assault on it, revealing Nikolai, dressed like he might have been planning to go out somewhere (not fancy, but not his staying at home attire), brows knit together.
âDanny?â
Fuck. Him. Fuck him. That was a good place to start. âFuck you.â The words rolled off his tongue easily. He paired them with a shove to Nikolaiâs chest that didnât even rock him back on his heels. Asshole. âFuck you.â
Nikolaiâs frown grew heavier. âDanny are you-â
âFuck you,â Danny repeated. He could still taste the wine on his tongue. Fuck him for-- for-- âDo I mean nothing to you?â Oh, ouch Yeah, that. âDid all of this,â a gesture around them to the condo, âmean nothing to you?â
âDanny, I d-â
He shoved again at Nikolaiâs chest, and again, and again, until Nikolai finally budged, creating enough space for Danny to get in the doorway. The Russian kept his bulk between Danny and the rest of the condo, though, trapping him in the small space of the entrance hallway.
âWhy did you spend months getting mad when I slept with other people, but now that Iâm gone, youâre off fucking, what? Three? Four? Men in the red light district?â It would almost hurt less if Nikolai had been bringing home men heâd picked up in bars. Or if, like his coworkers, he was picking favorites from the draculoids he oversaw, if those rumors were to be believed.
That would feel over. But this? This didnât.
âIs this what you do?â he continued. âFuck a few escorts until you find one you like, and then string him along until he canât take the distance when you pull back and he leaves?â That was cruel. Nikolai wasnât like that.
âDo you pick them for the noises they make when theyâre under you, or the way their mouths look when youâre fucking them?â More words meant to cut, but Nikolai didnât even flinch. He just had that stupid frown on his face, kept trying to interrupt with Danny, I donât-
Why wasnât he fucking reacting--?
âOr was I just not doing what you wanted,â a question said like fact. âIâve had your dick down my throat, if you had a complaint, I couldâve taken it.â
Nikolai did look toward the wall the hall shared with the kitchen, then, expression shifting into something Danny couldnât quite place, beyond the fact that seeing it just added fuel to the fire. It wasnât a long look, just a quick flash of his attention to the right, but it was long enough to suggest there was something else on his mind.
Now, of all times, he had something else on his mind.
He shoved again at Nikolaiâs chest, and again, finally forcing him back into the living room, but on the last shove, Nikolaiâs hands closed around his wrists before he could pull back, keeping him close. (His gaze landed briefly over Dannyâs shoulder, off in the kitchen, and his expression shifted again.) âAnswer me!â
âDanny, I donât understand,â came Nikolaiâs frustrated response.
He didnât understand. He didnât under-- Danny sucked in a breath, gearing up for just what he thought of that, when Nikolai interrupted, âI donât speak Italian.â
What. âWhat.â
In the sudden silence that fell, the scrape of wood against stone rang out like a gunshot from behind him.
Nikolaiâs gaze slid over to the source of the noise first, concern bleeding through his frustration by whatever he saw over there. He didnât release his hold of Danny, so the Italian had to make do turning to peer over his shoulder to see-
Noelle. Distantly, something in him was immediately, vehemently horrified to see her standing there.
And she looked... Like she was hoping the floor would swallow her whole, or that it had before this moment, papers clutched in her arms, one leg still pressed against the chair sheâd just pushed back and stood from.
From the corner of his eye, Danny saw Nikolai look between the two of them, getting a read on them both. Whatever he found prompted, âWhat did he say?â Then, âWhat did you say?â
Rather than answer, Noelle instead stepped away from the table, moving in the direction of leaving the kitchen. Presumably, she was going to be leaving. Quickly. âI'm so sorry. I didn't mean to invade, I was just going.â
âI think thatâs best,â Danny agreed at the same time Nikolai said, âWait.â
Wait? He wanted her to stay?
âReally. We can talk about this,â Noelle lifted the papers a little to contextualize, âanother time, it's okay. I shouldn't be here right now.â
Danny couldnât agree more. Nikolai, apparently, had a death wish.
âNo, I-â Eyes back on Danny, Nikolai began again, âYouâre drunk. Let me take you home, or call a cab, or-â
Oh. So that was how it was. âYouâre getting rid of me.â His mouth felt clumsy around English, but it was easier to manage than Russian.
Immediately, the change was obvious. (Maybe Nikolai had been onto something, saying he hadnât understood.) Nikolai recoiled, Dannyâs words far more effective than a slap to the face. âNo.â
âYes.â For someone so good at his work, what required reading people on some level, Nikolai could be so stupid when it came to other people. He didnât feel like he was tripping over his words when he next said, âYou are literally trying to put me in a car and send me away. But sheâs asking to leave. If you donât want me here, at least have the decency to say it to my face-.â He couldnât properly shove at Nikolai again, but he pushed his weight forward, feeling Nikolaiâs hold on his wrists flex in answer.
He wasnât going to let go until he heard the answer he wanted, was he? About other people, that thought might have garnered a reaction other than the fresh wave of anger that it did now.
Nikolai didnât get to dictate all the terms of their interactions, and if he thought he did, he had another thing coming.
âLet me go.â He pulled with increasing insistency against Nikolaiâs hold, even as he felt his balance shift too far back. Heâd fall if Nikolai let go that second, and yet, he still pulled. âYou want me gone, fine, just let me-â Both of them were talking over him, too many words in languages his wine-drunk mind couldnât quite keep up with. âLet go of me-!â
He wasnât sure what it was that finally did the trick. Whether his volume, his tone, or the sudden outburst in Nikolaiâs native tongue that startled Nikolai into letting go. Danny landed solidly on his ass, and for a heartbeat, all three of them were silent. And then Danny was getting to his feet.
âDanny-â
âNo.â He suddenly, desperately didnât want to be there anymore. âDonât touch me.â He didnât look up to see if Nikolai had understood that. He needed to leave. All of that, and his outburst hadnât even had a lasting impact because Nikolai hadnât understood a word heâd said.
He wasnât sure if Noelle said something else, or if Nikolai had grown some sense and knew better than to reach out again, but Danny managed to get out the door and into the elevator without more incident.
âHey,â Church prompted, one of his hands lightly pulling at Dannyâs arm to turn him back around. And then their lips were pressed together, Churchâs other hand curling around his hip as he darted his tongue out and into Dannyâs mouth.
The move caught him so off guardâheâd been so unsure about Churchâs motives, if he flirted to flirt or was trying to get somewhereâthat it took Dannyâs brain a good while to remember that they probably shouldnât be kissing. Especially, at least, not in the elevator, only a floor or two away from reaching Nikolaiâs front door. But by the time the idea finally came to him to maybe push Church away, the man was already drawing out of Dannyâs space, sudden spots of cold rushing to where his hands had been.
He felt light and unsteady with a sudden rush of arousalâeven in the handful of hookups heâd had in Battery City, none of them had kissed him quite right, like it had sparked something fiery and eager and passionateâand for the flash of a moment, he wished Church had done it several floors earlier, had kissed him for longer. And then the elevator dinged to indicate that theyâd reached the right floor, and the door whooshed open seconds later. It took Danny a moment to get his legs working enough to stumble into the floorâs little lobby.
âJust so weâre clear,â Church beganâthe suddenness of him breaking the silence enough to jolt Danny into turning around againâa rougher edge to his voice, âIâd take you against that wall-â a gesture to one side of the elevator- âright now if youâd let me. If youâre not looking for something like that out of this, thatâs fine, but if you are⌠You have my number, now.â
If asked, Danny would blame the blood moving south in his body for his lack of a verbal response to Churchâs words. In any case, it was probably for the best that he couldnât manage coherent speech before the elevator doors slid shut once more, lest he make any rash decisions he could regret later.
But heâd probably have to take a cold shower as soon as he got inside, or do something to address the result of his arousal before he ran into Nikolai.
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