Isaev pressed against him chest-to-chest, warm and solid, the lay of his body against Taras' somehow strangely comfortable, like the weight of a blanket.
Taras' pulse surged, thrumming in his chest. He wondered if Isaev could feel it.
"You..."
His voice died and he had to clear his throat.
"You don't have to order me," he muttered, staring at the ceiling.
Taras wondered how that worked, how he could ache with nameless want one moment, then get something and not be sure if he wanted it the next.
He licked his lips.
"Comrades...are there for each other," he added.
He closed his eyes.
Yes, it was a comrade thing, he decided.
There were times when things were bad, times when even the strongest man needed the reassurance of a comrade. That was human nature, and there was nothing unusual about it.
Or queer, for that matter.
Carefully, he shifted, adjusting his arm, resting it against Isaev's back.
no subject
Isaev pressed against him chest-to-chest, warm and solid, the lay of his body against Taras' somehow strangely comfortable, like the weight of a blanket.
Taras' pulse surged, thrumming in his chest. He wondered if Isaev could feel it.
"You..."
His voice died and he had to clear his throat.
"You don't have to order me," he muttered, staring at the ceiling.
Taras wondered how that worked, how he could ache with nameless want one moment, then get something and not be sure if he wanted it the next.
He licked his lips.
"Comrades...are there for each other," he added.
He closed his eyes.
Yes, it was a comrade thing, he decided.
There were times when things were bad, times when even the strongest man needed the reassurance of a comrade. That was human nature, and there was nothing unusual about it.
Or queer, for that matter.
Carefully, he shifted, adjusting his arm, resting it against Isaev's back.
It was more comfortable that way.
"Close your eyes, Lasha. I'm here."