Fatal Meeting (Ev and Zakhar)

An expression of irritation flickered across his face as Zakhar swiped his cigarette, but lit another. A bitter smile flit across his mouth as he envisaged Zakhar getting burned with it, and he made a mental note for the next time he was seriously pissed off.

"He had better not." Evgeni took a puff, blowing a smoke ring into the night sky and watching it fade.

He wouldn't put up with anybody irritating him. Even Zakhar. Zakhar was bigger and stronger, but that didn't mean he wouldn't retaliate if the man pissed him off.

Zakhar gave a low, husky chuckle when Evgeni sent him an irritated look.

He could almost imagine what the man was thinking when a twisted smile curled his lips and in response, he tugged a lock of the man's hair then curled his arm around his shoulders again.

"His is good boy. He will be no trouble."

Lion would probably try his hardest to avoid the man.

Evgeni slapped the man's hand away as Zakhar tugged his hair, glaring up at him. Persistent bastard. He didn't bother trying to shrug Zakhar's arm off his shoulders this time. There was no point. He would only do it again.

"I'll take your word for it."

He took another drag, blowing a series of smoke rings this time, three of them interlocking as they blew off into the wind. The werewolf stood still for a second, watching them go, before starting to walk again briskly, shaking his hair over his shoulders.

His lips quirked upwards when Ev didn't immediately knock his arm from around his shoulders.

Is not Lino you should be worried about; is me, he thought with a sick sense of amusement. He wasn't going to go easy on the man in training. If he acted out, he'd know about it.

He hummed when Ev finally knocked his arm away and be began following him, directing him to his room.

He burst into the room, flinging himself onto the nearest bed, resting his head on his arms. God, it felt nice to be on an actual bed after so long. Not a hospital bed either, a real bed, with a duvet and everything.

A purr rumbled in his chest.

"Mine?" he asked.

Not that it mattered. Even if it wasn't, it was now.

Zakhar arched a brow when Evgeni launched himself onto his bed and declared it his.

"If you want to sleep with two other men, then it is yours," he replied, lips quirking as he motioned to the next bed over.

"Otherwise, that is yours."

He definitely wouldn't be opposed to sharing his bed with Evgeni.

He waved it off, rolling over to rest his head on the pillow. "I'll move later."

His eyes slid closed blissfully, not sleeping, but happily drifting off into his own little world, curling up with a quiet purr.

He would enjoy staying here. Admittedly, he would have to put up with other people sharing the room, but it was comfortable and it had good food. Not to mention a whole forest for him to roam around in.

Zakhar chuckled softly.

At least the man was at home in his new room.

The Lycan's fingers turned to his shirt, swiftly unbuttoning it and dropping it to the floor, nudging it aside with his foot as he approached his bed.

He settled himself on the soft mattress and reached for the book lying on his bedside table.

Evgeni ignored the man sitting down next to him, only shifting a little. Not to allow Zakhar more space, but just because he wasn't fond of being close to people.

He stretched out with a yawn, back arching before settling back down.

It felt like ages since he had last slept in an actual bed, rather than a hospital bed or the streets.

He would never take it for granted again.

His eyes flickered to the man when he stretched, eyeing the expanse of chest that was shown through the broken shirt he was wearing.

Zakhar reached out to stroke a hand over the man's dark curls, caressing them between his fingers.

He stroked Evgeni's head as he would a pet. His fingers passed over the dark curls splayed around the man's head and shoulders idly as his eyes passed over the words on the page.

He slapped the man's hand away. Reasonably hard. Not to the point that it was ridiculous, but he was mildly irritated at being touched when he was trying to sleep.

"I'm not a fucking dog. Let me sleep." he growled.

The man shifted, burying deeper into the pillow. Ughh. His body clock was all messed up. He wanted to sleep, but he just couldn't.

"Move."

He kicked Zakhar to the side as he switched position, splaying out over the bed as he tried to get comfortable.

Zakhar laughed when the man slapped his hand aside.

How amusing it was to see such an old man act so childishly. He'd never grow bored of watching grown men making fools of themselves.

His eyes slid shut when he was kicked aside, shaking his head softly.

Evgeni needed to learn not to kick aside his Master in bed.

Move? His eyes flickered to the man again as he set aside his book pulled open the top drawer of his bedside table, reaching into it and pulling out a handful of leather straps.

Perhaps the man needed the stick and carrot approach to training. He'd enjoy that approach himself.

Zakhar leaned over the man, pushing him up the bed as he moved the straddle him. His hands gripped the man's wrists pulling them up to tie them to the headboard with two straps, pulling them tight enough that he'd be able to thrash but wouldn't be able to escape.

He let out a satisfied sigh as Zakhar moved, spreading out as much as he needed to with a wide yawn, stretching.

His eyes shot open when he felt the man straddle him, letting out a yell.

"What are you doing?!"

No. Not this again. His eyes narrowed, punching the man's shoulder hard, before his wrists were captured and bound. His legs thrashed, giving one of the man's thighs a sharp kick before bringing his knee into the man's stomach.

"Fuck off."

He grunted as the man kicked him, his hands snapping down to grip the man's legs.

Zakhar pushed Evgeni's legs up to his chest, hands sliding up his legs until they reached his ankles. He bound them to the headboard, spread wide.

"Do not kick Master," he said with an amiable smile as he stroked the man's calves again.

He let out a panicked snarl, thrashing as the man bound his ankles, his foot narrowly missing the man's face as he struggled, cursing dozens of oaths and insults in Bulgarian.

Even when he was fully bound, he continued to struggle, jerking his arms downwards as he attempted to break the leather bonds.

He stilled, glaring up at the man defiantly.

"Untie me. Now."

Zakhar clicked his tongue as he shook his head.

"No, I quite like seeing you like this."

His hands continued to stroke the man's clothed thighs and backside as he watched the man silently.

He'd teach Evgeni to behave.

He snarled again, twisting in his bonds, jerking his ankles down sharply as he tried to break the leather.

"I said, "Untie me."." His voice became deeper, more commanding, a scratchy, edgy growl tinging the words.

It was useless, but he was not used to being the helpless one. Normally it was other people who were begging him.

A warning growl rumbled in his chest as the man stroked his thighs and behind, hips arching away from him. He didn't care about having sex with whoever, just so long as he was the dominant one. This was not what he was used to.

"No."

He reached for his bedside table again, pulling two more items from the drawer. He set one down on the bed but kept the other in his grip.

He toyed with the cold metal of the item in his hand before flicking it open. The blade gleamed in the dull light of the room as he drew it over his clothed thigh. There wasn't enough pressure to damage the cloth; yet.

His eyes widened as they rested on the blade, paling as he let out a quiet whimper. Was Zakhar going to...?

"What...?"

For once, he stopped struggling, eyes sliding closed with a gulp. He didn't want to accidentally cut himself by moving.

He shuddered as the metal drew up his thigh over the fabric, gritting his teeth as he waited for the pain.

Pain didn't come.

It wouldn't come. Just yet, at least.

He unzipped the flies of the man's pants and slid the blade under the cloth. He made quick work of cutting the clothing from his body, tossing it aside carelessly.

When his lower half was completely bare, Zakhar ran the blade over the older Wolf's thigh again.

"No, don't -" he yelled, letting out a snarl as the man cut off his clothing.

While he had expected this when he had accepted the room from Zakhar, he hadn't expected there to be knives involved. He eyed the blade in horror, trying his best not to struggle as the cold metal ran over his thigh.

He was actually scared now, and he didn't get scared often.

The man drew in a shuddering breath, ignoring the dizzy, faint feeling in the pit of his stomach as he watched Zakhar in horror.

"Too late."

The tip of the blade pricked the man's skin. A drop of blood tricked from the minuscule wound and ran over the contours of his thigh.

The blood was chased by his tongue, lapping up the crimson liquid as he set the knife aside. It had served its purpose.

"What do we not do to Master?" he asked in a low purr, lips brushing over Evgeni's skin.

Evgeni choked a gasp, whimpering quietly as the blade pierced his skin, flinching at the pain.

He had a high tolerance, so he didn't yelp as another might have done, but the feeling of his own blood trickling down his leg scared him more than anything else. It reminded him that he was vulnerable.

But he remained silent at the man's question, too shocked, and, more than anything, too stubborn to answer.

"Answer when I ask a question."

His hand came down on the man's thigh with a loud crack.

He sucked a patch of the man's thigh into his mouth, sucking and nipping at it before releasing it with a small grin. Now he was marked.

Evgeni belonged to him.

"What do we not do to Master?"

He yelped this time. More out of surprise than pain. He had expected the cut. But not the slap.

The man squirmed as he was marked, growling. He hated the idea of becoming a possession, and marking did imply possession. But the bite and the warm heat of Zakhar's mouth on his thigh did feel good...

But he would not answer that question. He would not admit that he was wrong.

He snarled.

"Bastard."