#there's even some SCIENCEEEEE before this scene

[thecolossalennui]

The Terror Antarctic Modern AU/Chernobyl Antarctic AU crossover where the monster/the radiation is eldritch horrors and hyperdimensional shit - another bit

“I know what you need,” Boris said, taking one last drag on his cigarette and extinguishing it in the ashtray. He put a hand on the back of Valery’s neck, eyes glittering, and led him over to a couch in the cramped room, and he stepped in front of him and sprawled out on it first.

“Room for two,” Boris said, enticing.

“I kiss that poorly, huh?” Valery muttered.

Boris beckoned him down. “You kiss like a man who has about thirty seconds before he’ll be discovered by the house prefect or the KGB. We are at the bottom of the world with twenty-two other people who have gone to bed. We could be on the moon,” he rasped. “Now, are you going to sit, or are you going to leave an old man to go to bed all alone?”

Valery sat, terrified that he was going to feel a hard cock at his back and then, actually, a bit disappointed when he didn’t. He sat, somewhat chastely, in the vee of Boris’s legs on the couch.

“Relax, Valera, I am begging you,” Boris rumbled behind him, putting his hands on Valery’s shoulders.

Valery let himself sit back, leaning hesitantly on Boris’s chest and then finally letting him take the weight, and it was outrageous how good it felt.

How long has it been, Valery?

Since last, just, touching someone for the joy of it and the simple comfort?

He didn’t know.

Boris ran his hands down Valery’s neck, first one side and then the other, exquisitely gently. Valery started at first, stiffening his spine, and Boris touched his arms, making low, soothing entreaties that he continue to relax, like he was a frightened horse. Valery smiled ruefully, submitting to the treatment, letting his eyelids fall.

Boris began to gently press his fingertips into Valery’s trapezius muscles, just making insinuating touches, not going for it like a masseur.

“I am afraid to touch you, Valera,” Boris murmured to him. “I am terrified you are going to shatter and fly in all directions.”

Valery tried to remember what a slack muscle felt like. Boris’s hands on him were wonderful, and hearing his voice and feeling the soft rumble of it in his chest was too, but Valery’s whole body was clenched like a fist, and he couldn’t remember it ever not being so.

“You are breaking my heart,” Boris whispered, working gently on Valery’s muscles. Valery didn’t react; it had the cadence of a prayer. “Who are you waiting for, this tense, this ready? Like a runner at the starting line.” Boris kissed Valery’s neck and slipped his arms around Valery’s chest, holding him tight. “They are not here, Valera. They cannot find you. You are safe.”

Valery realized he was weeping. “What did you…?” He pulled off his glasses to press the heel of his hand into the offending eyes and rub away the tears. Boris loosened his hold, but Valery didn’t get up. He sat back again and laced his fingers with Boris’s. Boris dipped his head, pressed it to the side of Valery’s neck.

“I, too, was a ready man,” Boris murmured at length. “Big man, tall, ready to make sure anyone who challenged me went down and remembered. You get old, and you get tired of protecting yourself, knowing who your enemies in the room are so you can strike first. You, Valera, you are not a small man, but you make yourself small to escape notice. Different strategy, same goal. And you came to Pole to make the setting match that loneliness you feel. You can be alone and have it not be your fault, for once.”

Valery drew a long, shuddering breath. “You too, huh?”

“Me, too.” Boris kissed his neck again. “Would you like to be lonely together, for a little while, Valery Alekseyevich?”

Valery sat up and turned to face Boris, looking into his blue eyes as Boris regarded him with painful fondness.

“I’m not lonely when I’m with you, Borya,” Valery murmured, and kissed him like a man who had all the time in the world.