Never opened myself this way
Life is ours, we live it our way
All these words I don't just say
And nothing else matters
Trust I seek and I find in you
Every day for us something new
Open mind for a different view
And nothing else matters
Never cared for what they do
Never cared for what they know
But I know
So close no matter how far
Couldn't be much more from the heart
Forever trusting who we are
And nothing else matters
-Metallica, Nothing Else Matters
Kirill drowsily blinks into the morning light, his gaze roaming over the unfamiliar white ceiling. Then he remembers where he is, and what has happened during the previous night comes back to him, and he sighs and chooses to close his eyes from reality once again.
No, not from all of reality.
He rolls over onto his stomach and puts an arm around Nikolai's middle, resting his head against his shoulder. Nikolai stirs slightly, but does not wake. His breath is very soft and even; he must be fast asleep still. No surprise that he is exhausted, after all he has been through.
When Kirill places a hand on Nikolai's stomach, he can feel through his friend's polo shirt that there still is a bandage beneath it.
He feels bad for not going home with him directly the night before, but then again, at least Nikolai has had some fun as well, and neither of them will forget this New Year's night so soon.
It must be well into the morning already, judging from the bright light coming from outside, but Kirill has no idea how long they have slept, and he does not want to wake Nikolai by sitting up and reaching over him for his watch. Instead, he decides to go back to sleep, just for a quarter of an hour or so, or for half an hour maybe. If it is that late already, his bladder will wake him soon enough anyway.
Slowly his consciousness drifts over into a state half between sleeping and waking. Strange images and bizarre fragments of thoughts flicker and fade, and he knows they are part of dreams already, but is yet awake enough to recognise them for what they are. Maria is holding a strange colourful bird in her hands, and sparkles fly from its feathers and settle on the ground like fallen snowflakes. Vulturus walks past on his hind legs and asks if he can borrow his game controller, followed by his younger sister, who tells him to stay away from her viola, but he knows he needs the viola, and that this is important… Ah, no, rubbish. This is a silly dream again. What would he need a viola for, when he cannot even play it properly? Once he was taught to read the notation, and technically it is not very different from the violin, but he has forgotten most of it already. And, damn it, Vulturus does not run around on two legs and talk, and he certainly does not play video games. This is so idiotic. Kirill chuckles quietly to himself without opening his eyes, but already he sees a little yellow animal flitting past, and he wonders whether Nikolai might have let it out of its glass cage…
He must have fallen asleep then, for he wakes from a hand brushing the hair out of his face. "Good morning, little brother," Nikolai's voice says beside him, in a very warm, fond tone.
He opens his eyes and finds himself looking directly into Nikolai's. Still he is lying on his stomach, more or less, with his head on Nikolai's upper arm and his arm around his waist, and Nikolai is trying to get some order into his hair with his free hand, just like his father used to do it when he was a little boy. "Good morning," he mumbles. The cut on Nikolai's cheek really looks nasty, still crusted with blood and hardly healed. "You okay?"
"Quite perfect, considering the circumstances." Nikolai chuckles dryly. "I even got a nice big human hot-water-bottle, with the only disadvantage that he fidgets around a bit in his sleep."
"Sorry." Kirill ought to poke him for this remark, but he feels too lazy to move a limb.
"Never mind. Now let me out, or I'm forced to piss on the mattress. I doubt that's what you'd call a nice warm bath."
Kirill groans and lifts his head so Nikolai can pull out his arm from underneath it. "No thanks, man."
"Good boy." Nikolai playfully tousles his hair before he sits up. His right arm still is covered in patches on the underside, Kirill sees as Nikolai reaches out to pick up his watch from the nightstand. "It's half past ten in the morning. High time to be up, actually."
"Totally not," Kirill grumbles into the pillow. He still feels drowsy, and he would prefer Nikolai to just be quiet and curl up beside him once more.
"How about breakfast, then?" Nikolai points out. He has gotten up already and is stretching his limbs cautiously. It seems that all his major injuries are covered by his polo shirt, apart from the cut on his cheek and those on his forearm, of course; his legs seem unharmed, except if there is any injury hidden beneath his underpants. Kirill hopes for his friend's sake that there is none. "I don't have much here, but there's some toast and butter and honey. And cocoa."
Kirill smiles. This sounds tempting. "In bed," he suggests.
"There's no way I'm letting you drink cocoa in bed."
Kirill still smiles after Nikolai has gone out. Rolling over onto his back, he wraps the blanket around himself, enjoying the warmth and trying not to think of what will soon expect him: his father arrested, and the high-ranking vory fighting over the powerful patriarch's succession. Of course, as his son Kirill has a strong claim, but there are others who might decide it is their time now. Who will be loyal to him, apart from Nikolai, who is the most important of all? Now it pays off that he has always done his best to get along well with everyone, from buying them drinks to providing entertainment. He has no real enemies, at least none he is aware of. Misha will probably stand with him, and Misha is a valuable enforcer, and when Misha sides with him, so will several others. As for contacts, his father has let him handle the family business with Nabokov on his own recently, so Nabokov would have very little reason not to continue with him. He has been introduced to Uchanev, and he has assisted his father in making that deal. As for the exporters, he trusts none of them, but Nikolai has his own contacts in the car business, which will suffice at first, no doubt. Moreover, such structures do not fall apart simply because someone is arrested. It will not be the business that will prove troublesome, it will be asserting his authority that will – although authority also comes with a business working well.
I can do this, Kirill thinks. I can be boss. Or rather, we can do this, Nikolai and me, ruling the underworld of this bloody city, the Steward and the King.
But which one of them is which?
Perhaps it is time for Kirill to stop trying to command and lead Nikolai and learn to follow him instead. Life is so much easier, he feels, when he is honest and directly admits what he does not know and cannot do. With Nikolai, he does not have to be ashamed of anything.
Moreover, Nikolai knows him so well that there is no use pretending.
They will do this together, combining their knowledge and skills. Kirill has the contacts and the good name, and Nikolai has the experience of a rough life out there. There will be two kings, not just one, taking it in turns to lead, and never deciding anything on their own. There will be two kings, but they will be as one.
Nikolai returns to the room, and Kirill hopefully holds up the blanket for him. Normally Nikolai does not stay in bed for long, as far as he knows, but this time he really makes an exception and crawls back in, stretching out on his back beside him once more. As he lies down, he groans softly, and Kirill fears that his state has not improved much. "You sure you're okay?"
"Fine," Nikolai insists. "Just tired. I know this is atypical, but I won't exhaust myself too much. I'm going to need my strength."
"Right," Kirill mutters glumly. Indeed, for what lies ahead… "Anything I can do?"
"Make me a cup of warm milk later on, perhaps," Nikolai suggests. "I'd certainly appreciate that."
"Sure. No problem. You said there's honey, but do you have cinnamon?"
"Kitchen whiz kid," Nikolai says fondly.
"No way as good as my father." The next moment, he wishes he did not mention him, but now it is too late. "Speaking of that, you still owe me a couple of explanations… but let's postpone it for a bit, shall we? And take a nap first?" Maybe he can persuade Nikolai to rest for a little longer. "You just said you won't exhaust yourself too much."
Nikolai yawns. "Hmm… Sounds tempting, to be honest. Keep me warm, will you?"
Has he really just said…? "You want me to snuggle up to you?"
"Yes, come on," Nikolai grumbles while stretching his limbs. "It's not as if anyone is watching us."
"Yeah… right." Kirill rolls over and places his arm around Nikolai's middle once more. "Doesn't that feel slightly queer to you, in a way? I don't see it that way," he hastily assures him, "so don't worry."
"Wouldn't mind if you did. It's you, after all." Nikolai places a hand on his side, and Kirill can feel its warmth through his T-shirt. "I wouldn't like you any less if you were a queer, except if I caught you with your hand down my pants without asking for permission first." He laughs and hugs Kirill. "Now get some sleep, little brother. You've had a rough time, too."
Kirill is glad to realise that reaching into his friend's underwear would unsettle him just as well. While his desire to touch Nikolai scares him sometimes, at least there are some parts of his anatomy he does not want to fumble.
But what Nikolai just said… it was pretty much an invitation. Kirill fears that he is blushing furiously at the thought, he who cannot recall ever having blushed around a woman for many years. He pictures kissing him – a mind-boggling idea, of course, to say the very least – and the feeling increases. So he concentrates on Sonya instead, imagines running his hands all over her as she is caressing his bare skin in turn, and there definitely is something going on in his boxers now – and then Sonya suddenly, without transition, turns into Nikolai, and they continue touching each other as if nothing had happened… God, whatever is the matter with him lately?
This is bad for him. He should get away from Nikolai, as fast as possible. His place is with the vory, with his father.
With his father, who may yet still be free! He must warn him. It is his duty.
No. He has made his choice. His father has turned his back on him a long time ago, has tormented and humiliated and betrayed him. His place is here, with Nikolai, even if his feelings for Nikolai confuse and unsettle him currently.
No, not his feelings. There is nothing wrong with loving a brother as dearly as he loves Nikolai. It is rather his insatiable lust playing havoc with his sexual preferences.
Well, something that can certainly be cured by sating his desire with a girl regularly.
Sonya. This is the perfect opportunity. "I think I'm making Sonya my private mistress," he tells Nikolai. He has mentioned it the night before already, but his friend has not really reacted to it back then because there were more important things. "Means I'll keep her with me. Now my father's gone, I can do whatever I like."
Nikolai laughs at the announcement. "Why the fuck do you need a private mistress?"
"Because I'm damn horny all the time."
"Nothing your hand couldn't cure, though, I guess."
"She's better than my hand is." Besides, he is less likely to have dirty thoughts about Nikolai then. "You can pick one too, if you like, as the other boss."
Nikolai briefly strokes his side. "Look, I really appreciate that you're ready to share everything with me. I'd just be careful with calling me that in front of anyone else."
Kirill sighs. How he hates family politics! "Yeah, sure, I'll try and come across as authoritative, but I don't want to do that at the cost of cutting you down to size all the time. I want the lot to have some fucking respect for you, partner. Actually," he wonders aloud, "if I ran the import and you the export…"
"I can handle it for you, if you like," Nikolai offers readily. "But I still want you to at least appear to be in charge, and if only for business reasons. The name Leonov just counts a lot more than, say, Luzhin."
"Then they'll have to learn to respect the name Luzhin as well," Kirill says firmly. "Look, I've been thinking. Yeah, I actually do that at times," he jokingly adds. "And after all you've done for me, and all the fucking trouble I've caused you, it's only fair. If I'm to reorganise the family, I'll start with you. Oh, and I thought of moving Misha up in rank, what do you think? And perhaps Kuruvin."
"Andrei Kuruvin? Good point, though I'd like to give him a closer look first. I suggest we make a sketch over breakfast."
Kirill grins. "Man, Kolya, this is exciting. Call me childish, but it is." He hesitates, then adds, "And a bit scary, too."
"Of course it is." Nikolai yawns. "Say, just out of interest: Do you ever wonder what it'd be like to lead a normal life, away from all this? A large garden, a house by the sea, that sort of thing? Wife and children, perhaps?"
"Sometimes," Kirill admits. "You know, when I compare my situation to that of my old schoolmates… But still," he hurries to assure him, "I wouldn't swap. I'd probably miss the thrill." He laughs, though a little uncertainly. Does Nikolai know that he has had doubts lately, and how? He has not spoken about them to anyone. "What's the matter with you? Funny mood?"
"Sugar-deprived, perhaps," Nikolai jokes. His tone is very light, so Kirill banishes his dark thoughts back into the hindmost recesses of his mind whence they came. "Just a question. Because the idea has a certain appeal to me at times."
But still… Nikolai must have struck a bargain with the police, that much is certain. He has practically admitted it himself. What if he plans on becoming an informant, like Soyka?
No. Nikolai would not betray him.
"I think what you need is a holiday," he fondly mocks his friend. "Sea, sun, beach, palm trees with hammocks between them and all that shit, eh? Tell you something: Once we've got the thing set up here, we can do that."
"I like the idea," Nikolai agrees, sounding amused and somewhat drowsy at the same time. "Hold that thought, partner."
"Sure thing, partner." Nikolai's shoulder really is a surprisingly pleasant pillow. "Just the two of us? Girls will be hard to take along because of their lack of papers, obviously."
Nikolai laughs softly. "There'll be enough bitches for you to fuck wherever we go. Besides, a couple of days without one won't hurt, right?"
"Right. Just us, then. Thunder and lightning, as always."
"As always," Nikolai confirms. "You make all the noise, I do all the damage."
Kirill smiles as he closes his eyes – just another blessed moment of oblivion before finally facing reality. But there is one thing he is certain about: Whatever lies ahead, life definitely looks brighter than it did the morning before.