Returning to Quarters by Moonlight....
Oct. 8th, 2007 01:28 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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groznyj_gradNika left mess intending to return to his quarters.
It was nice out, for winter, however, and he lingered on his walk, crossing through the tank yard, occasionally gazing up at the night sky.
A blanket of stars, a dark bright blue, illumed from behind by unseen, uncast light.
He assumed Rakitin was right behind him, but he had yet to see Polya disembark the mess hall, or hear his companionable shout.
Perhaps Polya had business to attend to, like the nights he'd been privy to what Liadov had not.
Rakitin was ostensibly GRU now, and no longer objective and uncompromised, as far as Nika was concerned.
If in fact he ever had been. It seemed Rakitin's wandering eye for unguarded cock caused him to lapse in common sense. He'd said himself he could take or leave the KGB, in no uncertain terms that left Liadov fairly stunned at their utterance. Once, men were sent to the Gulagi for years for telling a single joke about the government- and here was Ippolit, boldly declaring dissatisfaction with his agency.
And then, this blase admission that he intended to jump ship for Volgin's outfit- well, Rakitin was either supremely brave and confident, or hopelessly naïve to think his kit and bags weren't bugged. Or his teeth, for that matter. Maybe he was more of a renegade than Nika had surmised.
It didn't change his feelings for the man, but it did mean he had one less uncontaminated soul to rely on in this corrupt outpost, if it came down to an issue of justice that conflicted with GRU wishes or politics.
He sighed.
Best not to think about that. Not until it came to it- if it did.
The stars were never-shifting, everlasting.
Nika smiled at them and shook his head.
"Men are fucking imbeciles," he whispered to them, confidentially. "And I foremost among them."
It was nice out, for winter, however, and he lingered on his walk, crossing through the tank yard, occasionally gazing up at the night sky.
A blanket of stars, a dark bright blue, illumed from behind by unseen, uncast light.
He assumed Rakitin was right behind him, but he had yet to see Polya disembark the mess hall, or hear his companionable shout.
Perhaps Polya had business to attend to, like the nights he'd been privy to what Liadov had not.
Rakitin was ostensibly GRU now, and no longer objective and uncompromised, as far as Nika was concerned.
If in fact he ever had been. It seemed Rakitin's wandering eye for unguarded cock caused him to lapse in common sense. He'd said himself he could take or leave the KGB, in no uncertain terms that left Liadov fairly stunned at their utterance. Once, men were sent to the Gulagi for years for telling a single joke about the government- and here was Ippolit, boldly declaring dissatisfaction with his agency.
And then, this blase admission that he intended to jump ship for Volgin's outfit- well, Rakitin was either supremely brave and confident, or hopelessly naïve to think his kit and bags weren't bugged. Or his teeth, for that matter. Maybe he was more of a renegade than Nika had surmised.
It didn't change his feelings for the man, but it did mean he had one less uncontaminated soul to rely on in this corrupt outpost, if it came down to an issue of justice that conflicted with GRU wishes or politics.
He sighed.
Best not to think about that. Not until it came to it- if it did.
The stars were never-shifting, everlasting.
Nika smiled at them and shook his head.
"Men are fucking imbeciles," he whispered to them, confidentially. "And I foremost among them."
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no subject
Date: 2007-10-11 09:00 am (UTC)"Yeah..." he said, trailing off, uncertain.
He shook his head after a moment.
"I really don't know what to make of that. I only know that it wasn't motivated by any altruism."
Liadov shrugged.
"He's a dangerous man. I'm surprised he isn't killing secretaries. But I suppose the Fury has him on a short leash- and they've almost certainly given him something akin to a mild chemical castration, to 'take the edge off'."
A pause.
"I don't see another way they could use him, frankly, unless he was pilled up."
Nika made a face.
"Pleasant conversation," he said, snorting softly.
"Don't...mention this, if you don't mind, Polya. About me and...that guy."
He indictated the Black Ops soldier with a vague nod and raise of his eyebrows.
"It's not...well, the truth is, it only happened last night, and it was a completely spontaneous thing. I don't even know his name. I know nothing about what he does, and I like it that way."
Liadov smiled crookedly.
"It's not something I want to advertise, if you understand. I don't know what his situation is, but he alluded to a...significant other of some kind, with the unit he's with."
no subject
Date: 2007-10-11 09:26 am (UTC)"Of course." Polya raised his hands, palms out. "I didn't see a thing."
Odd. They seemed so familiar and comfortable with one another, to not even know his name. Well. Not everyone did things in the standard order.
Apparently Nika had been telling the truth. Not that it was any of Polya's business.
A smile dented the corner of his mouth.
"Walked right by, head in the clouds."
no subject
Date: 2007-10-11 09:37 am (UTC)He sighed and brushed the fawn strands from his eyes absently.
"All I want is a nice warm conjack. That's all."
He studied the soldier's spartan and shapely posterior as the man paused by the door of the visitor's wing, and cast a sloe-eyed glance over his broad young shoulder.
"Maybe I'll drink it out of his navel."
no subject
Date: 2007-10-11 10:04 am (UTC)Eagle-eyed he may not be, but he didn't need that or the smoldering glances the two of them kept tossing each other to tell him it was past time to get the hell out of the way.
It was the kind of night that called for something like that. Fond obscenity, and the warmth of a comrade sleeping by your side.
The warmer air of the hall wasn't quite the same.
no subject
Date: 2007-10-11 10:19 am (UTC)It seemed that they were all clustered together - the pathologist in the corner, Aryol next to him, then the MVD major across the hallway, as he'd discovered last night.
Aryol went to his door and unlocked it, then held it open for the operativnik to go in.
He looked toward his neighbor's door.
His gaze met the pathologist's, and he smiled warmly. Openly, without a trace of embarrassment, or apology.
"Good night," he told Lieutenant Rakitin.
After his MVD lover slipped inside the room, he followed, and closed the door behind them.