Nikolai Volkov

mobster turned informant (sideblog; can't follow back)

[ofcasualties-blog]

With the fact that Nik’s answer was just as vague as his own, and due to the fact that he was a coke head who seemed to be slumming it, it didn’t take very long for Finn to figure out that that the others career was probably just as legal as his own. Before he had time to answer with something that wouldn’t be seemed as probing they arrived at the takeaway.

When Nik excused himself to the loo he nodded, it wasn’t exactly hard to figure out what he was planning on doing in the toilet. And honestly, could he be more obvious when he came out rubbing his nose and with a hell of a lot more energy than before. Hadn’t he ever heard of a little thing called being subtle?

              “ haven’t ordered, just checking the menu “

[bratvaism]

Nik joined Finn, standing close enough that their shoulders brushed as they checked out the menu. If he noticed Finn’s disapproval of the obviousness of his drug use, he didn’t comment on it. As far as he was concerned there was no need for subtlety--it wasn’t like he had to hide the drugs from Finn, and he was sure he was far from the only person to ever do coke in that loo.

              “You know, I’m not actually hungry                 any more. But get something if you                 want it, yeah? I’ll still pay.“

[ofcasualties-blog]

              “ Not that this hasn’t been fun, but I can’t                  imagine you brought me all this way for tea “

[bratvaism]

                “Well, simply put, Finley, I brought you out                   here to kill you.“ His expression is absolutely poker faced stoic for a moment before his lips pull up into a grin and he chuckles softly.                  “I’m joking. But we have got some business                   to discuss.”        

[ofcasualties-blog]

              “ right, right “

He figured that at least for now it was best to humour Nik, at the very least if it did come to them fighting it was better for the older bloke to underestimate him. His own gun was tucked neatly into his trousers and was in his possession most of the time in case anybody got too handsy. That and the fact that when you delved into the criminal world you weren’t exactly dealing with… quality people. Not intending to keep it a secret, but not entirely wanting to spill his guts he shrugged at the question.

              “ a little of this, a little of that- you? “

[bratvaism]

Finn was clearly wasn’t keen on revealing too much, which didn’t surprise Nik in the least. He wasn’t exactly eager to give a full rundown of his own less than legal activities.         “I work for my uncle. It’s a family business sorta          thing.” They neared the curry place and the moment they stepped inside, Nik told Finn he’d be right back and headed for the loo. Snorting coke off the sink in a 24 hour curry shop wasn’t the the most glamorous thing he could possibly think of, but he’d done it in worse places. When he came out again he sniffed and rubbed his nose and then gave Finn a bright grin, immediately more energetic than he’d been moments ago.                   “So! What’re you in the mood for? Did you order already?”

[ofcasualties-blog]

              “ I’d like to see you try mate “

Finn might have been a couple of inches shorter than Nikolai, but he had years of training under his belt and he was sure that if it came to a fight he could beat a coke head, or at the very least defend his own pretty well. All the same he smiled, it didn’t do well to be cocky, you never knew people.

              “ Lead the way then, Nik “

[bratvaism]

              “Nah, I don’t think you would, bruv. You’d                be surprised at what I can do.” The words were spoken with a light enough tone as they walked. He was mostly joking, though he was a good deal better at holding his own in a fight than he was sure he looked at the moment. Junkie he may be, but he also boxed and far more importantly than that, he was armed. His jacket covered his holster, but he’d have been a fool to not leave the house with a gun on him at all times considering how many people probably wanted to take him out or hold him hostage to get to his uncle.            “So what do you do when you’re not selling drugs?”

[ofcasualties-blog]

              “ Finn, it’s a pleasure I’m sure “

He took the offered hand and shook it before digging his hand back into his pocket, quickly counting the little baggies as he did. It was more a force of habit than anything, and whereas the guy- Nikolai- didn’t seem like he would try anything, it was better to be safe than sorry.

              “ so good indians, you know any? “

[bratvaism]

The gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Nik and he raised a brow. It wasn’t like he could really blame Finn though; he didn’t know him and he could only imagine what the other bloke must think of him.             “Don’t worry mate, I’m not gonna nick your              drugs. If that was my plan I’d have just kicked              your arse to take them. And there’s a good Indian              place about a block from here.”

[ofcasualties-blog]

              “ not really mate, a shags a shag “

Finn, as it seemed, wasn’t as bothered about his sexuality like the man in front of him was. Sure he had his preferences, everybody did, but with nobody around to shit on his choices he didn’t need the feel to shy away from it as much. He might be younger than this guy, but at least he knew what he wanted.

              “ Indians good, but first I need a name “

[bratvaism]

         “Right, yeah. Sorry mate, I’ve got shit            manners. I’m Nikolai.” He put out his hand to shake the other man’s, wondering if it was an overly formal gesture. Was there some kind of protocol to follow for drug dealers you were hoping to sleep with? He figured he’d treat him like any other bloke he was just meeting, even if he still sort of hoped to end the evening bent over something with his trousers around his ankles and this bloke giving him one.

[ofcasualties-blog]

              “ so not into that, that you tried to buy a rentboy? “

So the bloke was deeply closeted to boot, he was a deeply closeted seemingly skint coke head, well… Finn had had worse company. And if he was honest about it, the guy was fucking cute. Not caring about any of the excuses that the guy provided him with he simply shrugged his shoulders.

              “ so buy me a takeout then, i’m easy mate,                 and it’s not like we haven’t got drugs “

[bratvaism]

                   “Yeah, it’s just...different innit?” It felt different to him, at least. Not that he expected this other bloke to understand. He’d considered just going home and forgetting the whole thing, but the bloke didn’t seem dissuaded and there really wasn’t anything wrong with just grabbing a takeout with someone. Mates did that.                     “What are you in the mood for, then? I                       reckon I could go for some Indian. We                       could go back to mine.”

[ofcasualties-blog]

He waited expectantly for the words, and when the other guy simply closed his mouth and shook his head he let out a disappointed sigh. The strong silent type, Finn had always favoured the former over the latter. Taking pity on the guy in front of him he offered;

              “ look, wine and dine me and i might think about                 it, yeah? best offer you’re gonna get mate. “

[bratvaism]

            “Like a proper date? Mate, you got the wrong               idea, I ain’t into that.” Paying for anonymous sex was one thing, but taking another man out on a date with him made the whole thing feel much too real. That took forethought--it wasn’t the sort of thing he could just blame on being drunk and horny.

            “And I’m completely skint right now. The most              I could shell out for is a takeout.”

[ofcasualties-blog]

              “ I’m gonna make you say the words, love “

The flustered look on the blokes face was more than enough to make Finn crack a grin, and he had to at least give the guy props for not trying to back his way out of the situation. There was no denying that the older guy was hot, and if it wasn’t for the proposition and the fact that taking him up on any offer would make him look like a common rentboy something might have even have happened. But life was rarely a peach like that.

              “ at least be a man about it “

[bratvaism]

The jab about being a man had him gritting his teeth in irritation and he opened his mouth to tell this bloke just what he wanted to do with him, but he couldn’t make himself actually say the words. He could if he was drunk, but he wasn’t, so he just shut his mouth again, shaking his head.             “Forget it. You clearly ain’t one, so why should              I even proper ask you? Is that gonna actually              make you take me up on the offer? Doubt it.”

[sometypeofblog]

I’ll swallow my blood before I swallow my pride.

Al Capone (via asperitasrex)

[ofcasualties-blog]

Well shit, please tell me he isn’t asking me if I’m a rent boy, was the only thought going through Finnley’s head at the question the stranger posed. Finn might have fallen far since his days in the marines, but he hadn’t quite fallen that far, and at least the bloke had the decency to look a little bit sketchy with his asking. Already resolved in his answer he feigned a look of innocence.

              “ Dunno what you mean mate, care to explain? “

[bratvaism]

Oh fucking bollocking shit. While it’s not his first time with a rent boy, in his experience they tend to be the ones propositioning you. If you have to ask someone straight out if they are, then likely they’re not and now there was probably one less bloke who’d ever sell drugs to him again. Unless...well, he didn’t look desperate enough to be talked into such a thing, but Nik didn’t quite see how he could backpedal his way out of it anyway, so he’d might as well just dig his grave deeper.             “Y’know, like...services. Are you really gonna               make me say the words and all?”

[ofcasualties-blog]

              “ mental is as mental does, an’ anyway                 there are worse things to be “

It was weird really, most people bought of him and then left immediately to go and get high, nobody ever felt the need to stop around and chat. Christ, maybe the guy was lonely. It was an uncommon situation, and the fact that his guard was still up was easily hidden under humour.

[bratvaism]

               “Like what?” He didn’t exactly make a habit of standing around chatting up drug dealers, but this one was cute, and Nik really didn’t have any thing else better to do at the moment. He considered the late hour and eyed the bloke contemplatively.              “Do you---erm...is there anything else                you sell beside drugs?”

[ofcasualties-blog]

              “ I don’t kiss and tell, but you’re pretty                 fuckin’ normal mate “

He honestly hadn’t expected the laugh, instead figuring that the bloke would give him the cold shoulder or another insult like the remark about how he cut his powder. But he supposed, that was people, unpredictable as fuck when it really came down to it.

[bratvaism]

             “Maybe I’m actually completely mental               but I’m just dead good at hiding it. What               do you reckon?” It was honestly such a weird situation that he didn’t imagine this bloke was doing anything but take the piss by telling him he needed therapy, so he figured he’d play along with it. It was hardly the worst thing he’d ever heard about himself anyway.

[ofcasualties-blog]

He thumbed through the money quickly checking that he wasn’t about to be shafted, before nodding and putting the fifty in his pocket, drawing a little baggy of coke out his other as he did so. The quicker the transaction the better, you could never really know who could be watching. When the deal was over, and he didn’t have anybody else waiting he turned to the stranger.

              “ you need a therapist, that’s another fifty “

[bratvaism]

That startled a laugh out of him as he pocketed the baggie he’d just been given. He crossed his arms loosely over his chest, looking down at the other man.           “Do you tell that to all the blokes who buy            from you, or has it just been a slow night?            Cos I reckon there’s no way I’m the most            fucked up one you ever seen.”

[ofcasualties-blog]

              “ Try not to be so tetchy mate, yeah? “

In all likelihood the man wasn’t a narc, just another low brow cokehead that he would have to deal with in the name of criminal enterprise. That and he suspected the guy was relatively strung out, it would explain his beha- viour if nothing else.

              “ S’a gram you get for fifty, unless you’d rather               find some other gimp that don’t cut with baby                 powder “

[bratvaism]

And just like that, he was all smiles as he handed the money over. He was strung out, and spending the last of his cash on coke when he barely had any food in his flat, but he’d worry about that when he sobered up. He’d always been shit with money anyway; it seemed to run through his fingers like water.               “Cheers. And I ain’t being techy. It’s just                 been a long day. You know how it is, yeah?”

[ofcasualties-blog]

              “ Tch. You a narc? “

Finn had never been caught before whilst selling, and for all the tall guy looked shady enough to be legit, you could never be too careful. He had known, well, lets be honest, less smarter men caught for a lot less- it was the whole reason he had been chosen to take charge of this little side-venture.

[bratvaism]

          “Do I look like a fuckin’ narc to you, mate?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the answer to that. He was a narc, just not for this. The Kingsman didn’t give a shit about his drug related activities, but he’d kick the arse of the next agent he met with if somehow working for Kingsman gave him a narc vibe in all parts of his life now.         “Are you gonna sell to me or not? I’ll go to          someone else. Your shit is probably cut with          baby powder or some rubbish anyway.”

[bratvaism]

ofcasualties

Hands shoved deep in his pockets, he sidled up to the boy on the street corner who looked to be only a few years younger than himself. When he spoke, his voice was hushed, as if they were going to be over heard.                         “Hey, mate, are you selling? How much                coke can I get for fifty quid?”