"Yes," he said. "Imanov and I both. We've risen through the ranks together."
He paused, not really sure what else to say about that. Irinarhov had so far been content to ignore the existence of Imanov completely, at least as far as Andrei was concerned. No inquiries as to his skintight comradeship with Ilya, and maybe that was a good thing.
Maybe it was a bad thing.
It was certainly less complicated.
And why shouldn't the Captain take them as separate individuals?
They were, of course.
It was hard to remember, sometimes, that he'd had a life before befriending Ilya Piotrvich, a very pretty life that made him feel both blessed and cursed.
But Irinarhov...
Andrei rubbed his chest absently, warming it with the friction of his hand.
As much as his life was charmed, the Captain's was poetically star-crossed. This Vitya, cut down. Only one of many things that had branded Irinarhov with their particular keloids.
Metalwork.
The thought of it intrigued him. Just to think of it made his loins tense slightly. He liked the idea of Irinarhov, as a slightly younger man, amidst pounding sparks and steel. A worker.
"I'm sorry you had to leave school, comrade. You would have done well there. It seems you've not done badly on your own, however."
Andrei paused, ventured an enigmatic smile.
"Still," he murmured, "I can't say the image of you at a forge is an unpleasant one. On the contrary."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2006-09-14 05:30 am (UTC)"Yes," he said. "Imanov and I both. We've risen through the ranks together."
He paused, not really sure what else to say about that. Irinarhov had so far been content to ignore the existence of Imanov completely, at least as far as Andrei was concerned. No inquiries as to his skintight comradeship with Ilya, and maybe that was a good thing.
Maybe it was a bad thing.
It was certainly less complicated.
And why shouldn't the Captain take them as separate individuals?
They were, of course.
It was hard to remember, sometimes, that he'd had a life before befriending Ilya Piotrvich, a very pretty life that made him feel both blessed and cursed.
But Irinarhov...
Andrei rubbed his chest absently, warming it with the friction of his hand.
As much as his life was charmed, the Captain's was poetically star-crossed. This Vitya, cut down. Only one of many things that had branded Irinarhov with their particular keloids.
Metalwork.
The thought of it intrigued him. Just to think of it made his loins tense slightly. He liked the idea of Irinarhov, as a slightly younger man, amidst pounding sparks and steel. A worker.
"I'm sorry you had to leave school, comrade. You would have done well there. It seems you've not done badly on your own, however."
Andrei paused, ventured an enigmatic smile.
"Still," he murmured, "I can't say the image of you at a forge is an unpleasant one. On the contrary."