i love having fun while writing the stupidest shit i’m working on my sleeper agent fic right now and jfc.
Price had just about gathered himself when the man brushed his hair out of his eyes. They were this chocolatey brown that glittered even in the dingy lights of the pub, and Price could have sworn they could see his soul, what with the way they stared at him so intently.
“Privet?”
He’d never seen such a sight. They were piercing, harsh, but he was convinced sharp edges could do him no harm. They flitted around, taking in the environment. John absently wondered if they would glitter just the same in the sunlight, or in complete darkness. If they’d still look at him as warmly.
“Hello? Bonjour? Hallo? Ciao? Nihao? ¿Hola? Marhaban? Do you speak?” the man asked, smiling dreamily as his eyes settled onto John’s own.
It was the final question that finally reminded him why he was there, and he sputtered out a reply.
“..uhm, hi, uhm, John. John Price.” He stuck out a hand awkwardly.
“Nikolai,” the man responded, shaking it. Fuck, his hands were so soft. Price felt his heart drop a little when he had to pull back away.
“What do you need?” Nikolai asked.
“...” John realised that the section of his brain reserved for intel had been replaced by a section reserved for thirst, because instead of his talking points he asked “kiss me?”
“As you wish, John.” He leaned forwards, grinning, before pressing his lips against Price’s in a chaste kiss.
