Swallowed Tears by SilverHawk
Part 3
Rating: NC-17 (although less hard sex this time around...wanted to do a little Shakespeare)
Characters: Vassili (Jude Law)/Danilov (Joseph Fiennes)/Mikhail (JRM)
Spoilers: Only if you haven't seen Enemy at the Gates
A/N: For the two beautiful men who made or will further make the Bard one damn fine
specimen. For Marla Singer who said that Jude Law was invented for slash. That was very
inspiring, in deed.
~ = memories
---------
~ "Why did you kiss her?"
Vassili blindly for the voice, finally catching the glint from his spectacles.
"What are you talking about?" Vassili lied. He had caught Danilov watching them.
"Did you fuck her?" Danilov said, coming away from the shadows. He roughly grabbed
Vasilli's arm, twisting him towards him, hurting him.
"Stop this," Vassili said, trying to pull away but the grip was too strong.
"Did you like it?" he hissed. "Do you think she loves you? Or 'Vassili the Sniper'?"
"Stop it!" Vassili pushed him away.
"I made that image. I made that sniper come alive," Danilov growled. "And I can destroy it.
I can make you a traitor."
"I wish you would," he replied. "You've made me into something I cannot become."
Danilov turned his back to Vassili. "Go to her then," he said. "If that is how you feel.
Go."
Vassili wrapped his arms around Danilov, pulling him tightly towards him. Burying his face
into his neck. "Then I would not be a traitor to Stalin but to us." ~
Vassili awoke, tears threatening to creep out. He shook his head, shaking away the
thoughts, feeling around for a cigarette. Finding a box in Mikhail's pocket, he removed
one, lighting it. The glow of the stick burning slowly.
Smoking his cigarette, he looked down at the snowy white form asleep on the floor. He had
been with Mikhail for the past year and a half. An eager young writer assigned to write the
latest propoganda about his life, the great Vassili Zaitsev. His wildly unkept brown hair
always got in his way while he wrote. His brown eyes would gleam with excitement as Vassili
described the war. Mikhail was bright with an adoration for Tolstoy. When Vasilli obtained
him a copy of War and Peace, Mikhail devoured it. Acting out passages as he read. His face
animated. How they ended up as lovers was unknown. It just happened. And did he love him?
Or was it that Mikhail reminded him too much of Danilov?
"Who is Danilov?" Mikhail awoke, propping his head with his hands.
"What are you talking about?" Vassili said. His hands shook as he inhaled his cigarette.
"You say his name in your sleep," Mikhail sat up. "Who is he?"
Vassili ignored him, swallowing the smoke down his lungs. Slowly letting it out.
"Was he your lover before me?" Mikhail pryed, twirling his fingers into Vassili's hair.
Pulling away, Vassili got up, crushing his cigarette into a cup. Searching for his clothes,
he got dresssed. Mikhail came over. His long slender fingers buttoned Vassili's shirt.
"Funny isn't it how you always leave around this time," Mikhail observed as he adjusted
Vassili's collar.
"I have to go home," he replied weakly.
Mikhail looked at him. Eyes narrowed. "What do you do when you return home? Do you fuck
her also? You must be one busy man," he spat out. He wrapped the tie around Vassili's neck,
pulling him closer. "And when she asks where you've been, do you tell her no where? Since
you're not really cheating on her if you're screwing a man."
Vassili continued ignoring him, brushing his hair. Avoiding eye contact.
"Are you here only for the sex?" Mikhail said. "Was Danilov a cheap slut like me?"
Turning around, Vassili smacked him across the face. "Do not say his name like that ever
again."
Mikhail wiped the blood from his mouth. Slowly, he smiled. Cupping Vassili's chin, he
kissed him. "Good night, General Zaitsev."
------
Tania had fallen asleep on the couch when he returned home. Gently placing a blanket on top
of her, he kissed her cheek, sitting down on the floor beside her. Taking her hand, he lay
his head down, falling asleep.
~ Vassili sat in the dark abandoned building, routinely refilling his rifle. He froze when
he heard the crunch of footsteps. Holding his breath, he listened for the direction of the
sound. Pointing his rifle to his left, he crouched behind the wall.
"Vassili?" came a whisper.
Lowering his rifle, Vasslli stepped out. "Damn it, Danilov," he growled. "I almost killed
you."
"Didn't know you cared," Danilov laughed.
Vassili smiled, giving him a hug. "How did you find me?
They sat down. Danilov offered him a cigarette, lighting it. "You forget," Danilov replied.
"I am your personal publicist." Digging into his jacket, he pulled out a small book.
"What's that?" Vassili asked.
"A Lovers Complaint," he said. "I got it from the Allies."
Vassili furrowed his brow. "And this makes you happy?"
"William Shakespeare is a great English playwrite," Danilov said. "I've never read anything
of his. Only heard about it." He opened the book, reading a passage. His brown eyes
sparkled as they moved across the page, his lips whispering the words in a language Vasilli
did not understand.
"What are you speaking?" Vassili asked.
"English," he replied.
"And what did you just read? What does it mean?"
"The young woman has just had her heart broken for her lover never loved her at all."
"How sad," Vassili said. "Read some more."
As Danilov continued to read, Vasilli traced his fingertips along his moving lips. He
touched his hair, kissing his throat. Slowly, he unzipped Danilov's trousers, reaching
down, feeling for his cock. He massaged it, pressing his body closer. Danilov's breath
quickened, reading in a strained voice. Vassili felt it go erect, harden in his hand. He
rubbed himself against Danilov, sitting on his lap, one hand fixed on Danilov's cock.
There came a crack.
Freezing, hearts pounding as they strained to hear where it came from. Pulling away,
Vassili placed a finger against Danilov's lips, silencing him. Grabbing his rifle, he slid
near a crack in the wall, peering out. ~
Waking up abruptly, body shaking, Vassili shut his eyes, desperately trying to forget what
happened next.
"You're awake," Tania kissed him. "You were having a nightmare. You were screaming."
Shaking his head, he got up. "It was nothing." He headed towards the bathroom. Shutting the
door, he turned on the tap, splashing cold water on his face. Hiding the tears the rolled
down his cheeks.
Part 3
Rating: NC-17 (although less hard sex this time around...wanted to do a little Shakespeare)
Characters: Vassili (Jude Law)/Danilov (Joseph Fiennes)/Mikhail (JRM)
Spoilers: Only if you haven't seen Enemy at the Gates
A/N: For the two beautiful men who made or will further make the Bard one damn fine
specimen. For Marla Singer who said that Jude Law was invented for slash. That was very
inspiring, in deed.
~ = memories
---------
~ "Why did you kiss her?"
Vassili blindly for the voice, finally catching the glint from his spectacles.
"What are you talking about?" Vassili lied. He had caught Danilov watching them.
"Did you fuck her?" Danilov said, coming away from the shadows. He roughly grabbed
Vasilli's arm, twisting him towards him, hurting him.
"Stop this," Vassili said, trying to pull away but the grip was too strong.
"Did you like it?" he hissed. "Do you think she loves you? Or 'Vassili the Sniper'?"
"Stop it!" Vassili pushed him away.
"I made that image. I made that sniper come alive," Danilov growled. "And I can destroy it.
I can make you a traitor."
"I wish you would," he replied. "You've made me into something I cannot become."
Danilov turned his back to Vassili. "Go to her then," he said. "If that is how you feel.
Go."
Vassili wrapped his arms around Danilov, pulling him tightly towards him. Burying his face
into his neck. "Then I would not be a traitor to Stalin but to us." ~
Vassili awoke, tears threatening to creep out. He shook his head, shaking away the
thoughts, feeling around for a cigarette. Finding a box in Mikhail's pocket, he removed
one, lighting it. The glow of the stick burning slowly.
Smoking his cigarette, he looked down at the snowy white form asleep on the floor. He had
been with Mikhail for the past year and a half. An eager young writer assigned to write the
latest propoganda about his life, the great Vassili Zaitsev. His wildly unkept brown hair
always got in his way while he wrote. His brown eyes would gleam with excitement as Vassili
described the war. Mikhail was bright with an adoration for Tolstoy. When Vasilli obtained
him a copy of War and Peace, Mikhail devoured it. Acting out passages as he read. His face
animated. How they ended up as lovers was unknown. It just happened. And did he love him?
Or was it that Mikhail reminded him too much of Danilov?
"Who is Danilov?" Mikhail awoke, propping his head with his hands.
"What are you talking about?" Vassili said. His hands shook as he inhaled his cigarette.
"You say his name in your sleep," Mikhail sat up. "Who is he?"
Vassili ignored him, swallowing the smoke down his lungs. Slowly letting it out.
"Was he your lover before me?" Mikhail pryed, twirling his fingers into Vassili's hair.
Pulling away, Vassili got up, crushing his cigarette into a cup. Searching for his clothes,
he got dresssed. Mikhail came over. His long slender fingers buttoned Vassili's shirt.
"Funny isn't it how you always leave around this time," Mikhail observed as he adjusted
Vassili's collar.
"I have to go home," he replied weakly.
Mikhail looked at him. Eyes narrowed. "What do you do when you return home? Do you fuck
her also? You must be one busy man," he spat out. He wrapped the tie around Vassili's neck,
pulling him closer. "And when she asks where you've been, do you tell her no where? Since
you're not really cheating on her if you're screwing a man."
Vassili continued ignoring him, brushing his hair. Avoiding eye contact.
"Are you here only for the sex?" Mikhail said. "Was Danilov a cheap slut like me?"
Turning around, Vassili smacked him across the face. "Do not say his name like that ever
again."
Mikhail wiped the blood from his mouth. Slowly, he smiled. Cupping Vassili's chin, he
kissed him. "Good night, General Zaitsev."
------
Tania had fallen asleep on the couch when he returned home. Gently placing a blanket on top
of her, he kissed her cheek, sitting down on the floor beside her. Taking her hand, he lay
his head down, falling asleep.
~ Vassili sat in the dark abandoned building, routinely refilling his rifle. He froze when
he heard the crunch of footsteps. Holding his breath, he listened for the direction of the
sound. Pointing his rifle to his left, he crouched behind the wall.
"Vassili?" came a whisper.
Lowering his rifle, Vasslli stepped out. "Damn it, Danilov," he growled. "I almost killed
you."
"Didn't know you cared," Danilov laughed.
Vassili smiled, giving him a hug. "How did you find me?
They sat down. Danilov offered him a cigarette, lighting it. "You forget," Danilov replied.
"I am your personal publicist." Digging into his jacket, he pulled out a small book.
"What's that?" Vassili asked.
"A Lovers Complaint," he said. "I got it from the Allies."
Vassili furrowed his brow. "And this makes you happy?"
"William Shakespeare is a great English playwrite," Danilov said. "I've never read anything
of his. Only heard about it." He opened the book, reading a passage. His brown eyes
sparkled as they moved across the page, his lips whispering the words in a language Vasilli
did not understand.
"What are you speaking?" Vassili asked.
"English," he replied.
"And what did you just read? What does it mean?"
"The young woman has just had her heart broken for her lover never loved her at all."
"How sad," Vassili said. "Read some more."
As Danilov continued to read, Vasilli traced his fingertips along his moving lips. He
touched his hair, kissing his throat. Slowly, he unzipped Danilov's trousers, reaching
down, feeling for his cock. He massaged it, pressing his body closer. Danilov's breath
quickened, reading in a strained voice. Vassili felt it go erect, harden in his hand. He
rubbed himself against Danilov, sitting on his lap, one hand fixed on Danilov's cock.
There came a crack.
Freezing, hearts pounding as they strained to hear where it came from. Pulling away,
Vassili placed a finger against Danilov's lips, silencing him. Grabbing his rifle, he slid
near a crack in the wall, peering out. ~
Waking up abruptly, body shaking, Vassili shut his eyes, desperately trying to forget what
happened next.
"You're awake," Tania kissed him. "You were having a nightmare. You were screaming."
Shaking his head, he got up. "It was nothing." He headed towards the bathroom. Shutting the
door, he turned on the tap, splashing cold water on his face. Hiding the tears the rolled
down his cheeks.