Fic: Spies Do It Better 5 of 25
Title: Spies Do It Better
Author: rufferto and kitty_trio
Fandom: Bourne Supremacy
Characters: Jason Bourne/Kirill
Prompt: #18 Gift
Word Count: 3667
Rating: NC-17, Slash
Disclaimer: It’s Fiction! Never happened. All lies from troubled minds. We do not own Jason, Kirill or any characters from the Bourne universe. Other characters are figments of vivid imaginations, any similarity to persons real or fictitious is merely incidental. No money made from this fantasy.
Author's Notes: Two young guns in spy school will not only learn to become lovers and assassins, but 'do it' against a backdrop of fluffy snags along the way.
This came from Karl’s comments about a running joke on the set that Kirill shot Jason’s girlfriend in Goa because the two had a ‘thing’ whilst in spy school together. Written for the 25fluffyfics Challenge.
Click button for our Fluffy Table:
Banner manip as always, made lovingly by rufferto
Prompt 18: Gift
It had been foolish to go after Lataski when Nigel was killed. He’d acted on instinct though and hadn’t really been thinking. His orders had been to leave if things went bad. The young man rubbed his sweaty brow. The airplane was hot, and the seat he was in wasn’t helping. He fingers the small package in his coat pocket grateful that he was able to save that at least when he finally made it out of that river. He was also glad he kept his plane ticket in his pocket. The hotel was already cased out by the police. Sloppy.
They had put him with a number one agent. Nigel Harding was number one in his day, but he had got too cocky this time, showing the ‘young one’ the ropes. The aging spy now had three holes in his brain, and didn’t even complete the job.
Bourne had been forced to do everything in his power to make sure that the target met his end. It was technically his first job, and his hands were still shaking from it. He wasn’t entirely sure he was psychologically ready for this. Lataski was an evil son of a bitch, and deserved the hit, but still. Jason swallows and keeps focused on the seat ahead, trying to steady himself.
The explosion had been a little extreme, he supposed, but if they had been able to identify Nigel’s body they could have traced it back to the center. Above all else, Jason had been taught to protect the center. He would have called, but during the fight, he’d lost his cellphone, and now all he had was time to kill in the plane.
From her spot atop the warm refrigerator, Perseverance watches her dark savior pace. For many sunsets he has become increasingly agitated. Even going so far as to forget to clean her box after her last use. The kitten gives a little sniff. This tall one should be in a much better mood. The ‘other one’ has thankfully disappeared. That should be cause for celebration not distracted pacing. A sharp rap sounds on the door and Percy backs out of sight as she’s been taught.
“What word?” Kirill grunts at the training officer raising a fist to finish the knock.
The older man doesn’t quite meet the intense gaze of the recruit as he explains neither agent has been heard from, and none of the coded phone calls have been answered. The reports of local police interference and bombs were not a good omen. Patting Kirill once on the shoulder, the man snatches his hand away when the quiet youth growls menacingly.
Jason is shaken awake as the plane lands, he mumbles to himself something about not his turn to feed the kitten. The stewardess chuckles and gives him a pat. "Sir, the plane has landed. It's time to get out, Sir."
Home? Well, home. Jason gives a tired yawn, sleep has been listless and he is aching from a couple of cracked ribs and a lot of bruising. No hospitals yet, that’s for when he makes it back. The man was dead, he had the information they needed, why did it hurt so much to think?
Maybe he wasn't ready yet. Maybe Kirill was right after all. He was -good- though. He'd snipered the guy from three blocks away while he was moving. Jason's mind raced with the intensity of it all and he finally manages to get off the plane with the Stewardess' help.
The center is immediately notified when Jason gets off the plane and is spotted at the airport.
He knew Bourne was not ready to go on an assignment. Kirill smashes a fist onto the counter, making the row of condiments and canisters bounce. The older boy had pleaded with the CO, to no avail. Now that bright light in his world of darkness is gone. An uneasy lump has been growing in his gut with each day of no news. Zipping his jacket against the cold that seems to be coming from within him rather than without, the darkly dressed youth slips quietly out of the flat. If he runs long and far enough, maybe he can exhaust himself before his swirling emotions escape. He’s survived physical pain before by withdrawing into his mind. Why was this so much harder to contain?
There's a phone call made, and then another. It's quick to get back to the center. The officer who had been visiting Kirill stops and answers his phone. He is at the bottom of the trainee's steps just as Kirill opens the door to come out.
"They've found him? In what condition. Good. Okay. Send him to the hospital, I'll be right there. No he can't, he has to get checked out first."
Jason clutches the package while he glares at the person in the limo, "I'm fine... I don't need..."
"Procedure, Bourne." The officer with him says sharply.
Kirill is silently at the bottom of the stairs before man closes his phone. “Him? Only one?”
“Fuck man!” The officer clutches his chest as the wraith appears as if from nowhere. “The kid, Hospital, come on,” he gasps hurrying to a staff car. The man gives the dark youth side-long looks throughout the drive. ‘Shit the boy gives me the willies.’ A natural operative, with his emotionless face, quiet and still presence, he’d be able to sneak into any situation without ever being noticed. Even now, the Russian’s head is lowered, seemingly asleep, not a muscle twitching as he sits with his hands calmly on his knees.
They are met at the service entrance to the hospital and briskly ushered inside. The commander and his debriefing team are already upstairs. At least that means the young American can talk. A small smile at the shadow beside him slips when the youth continued staring at his feet.
“No!" Jason grabs at his coat, in a tug of war with the nurse as the commander is still trying to debrief him. "Leave it." The nurse relents, and scuttles around the boy, trying to make him comfortable. He's already been bandaged and x-rayed.
"It was extremely foolhardy of you to go after that man, Bourne." The Commander snaps angrily, looking through the folder.
"I killed him." Jason replies stonily.
"And drew a whole lot of media attention we did not need. Operatives are not supposed to…"
"It wasn't my fault sir, he saw us and could ID us. I went after him because Harding slipped up!" Jason's temper and the pain he is in, is finally getting the better of him. "I had to go after him."
"Alright Bourne, we're going to review the records of this case and validate your story. In the meantime, I want you to let the hospital take care of you. You're injured, and you'll need to undergo a psychological evaluation because you were only there to observe."
Filing unnoticed into the private room with the others, Kirill slips into a dark corner to gauge Jason for himself. He spares one glare for the CO, and then drinks in the sight of Bourne being so vibrantly alive. Only his eyes, hidden by the deep shadow of a large piece of medical equipment, move, traveling over every inch of Jason’s form.
Jason squirms, grunting at the nurse. "It’s fine! I'm fine. I don't need..." He sees Kirill. Then looks to the CO. "Understood Sir." He mutters, trying once again to be subordinate. It really -wasn't- his fault.
"Good. Now that we are clear. Welcome back, Bourne." The CO turns, nearly missing the fact that Kirill was in the room. "Oh, Kirill. Nice work on the simulation yesterday. You do fine work." He and the other men leave finally and Jason gives a long sigh of relief.
The nurse fusses, "I'll be back with some pain medication sir, and the doctor will have the evaluation of your ribs. Please stay in bed. In the morning, the psychologist will be here to evaluate you."
Kirill stays in his corner, if he moves this illusion of Jason safely back will burst. Just like the fitful dreams he’s been having the few times he’s been able to sleep in the empty flat. He’d never thought another man could be beautiful, but the boy restlessly shifting on the bed truly is. Not just the youthful face and the fringe that always fell over one light blue eye. The vibrancy of Bourne lit every room he entered. Even now, with the short-fused temper barely contained, nothing has ever looked lovelier.
"Hey." Jason gives Kirill a half smile, once the nurse has finally left them alone. "Well, I'm in one piece." He lifts his eyes to Kirill, clearly using the excuse of humor to try and hide whatever he's feeling. As an after thought, he asks, "You remembered to feed Percy, I hope?"
Kirill shakes his head, fearing if he spoke, all the pent up anger with their CO will tumble out. His eyes glitter with that and all the need and longing for the blond.
Jason's smile widens as he holds out his hand. "Come here, I'm not going to vanish. Besides, I have something for you." He holds the Russian’s eyes, knowing somehow that Kirill needed to be close to him. "Did you miss me?"
Giving one look to the closed door, Kirill approaches the bed. “Quiet,” the taller boy doesn’t clarify that the flat was too quiet and too empty without Jason’s presence. He latches onto Bourne’s hand needing to feel for himself that the boy truly is here. A few bruises and scrapes, the bandaged ribs, but alive and grinning in his impish way.
Jason squeezes Kirill's hand. "Yeah, I'll bet." One thumb rubs absently along his lover's knuckles. "Hey, look." He drags the coat over with his other hand and messily manages to delve into it's pocket, He brings out a small paper bag that's slightly crunched up and grins, feeling the weight of the object still within. "I couldn't leave without getting you something."
Kirill shivers at the strokes over the back of his hand. Rolling his eyes as relief loosens some of the anxiety knotting his stomach, he brushes the blond lock off Jason’s brow. The inevitable reality of a first kill isn’t lurking in Bourne’s eyes, yet. The young assassin knows the ordered meds will also contain a sleeping agent, and will find a way to keep Jason’s mind occupied until he drifts off to sleep. He eyes the package warily. “American native, scalp first kill… is not?”
Jason laughs out loud, leaning forward to kiss Kirill suddenly and quickly. "No. Look inside." He leans back on the pillows and watches cheekily. He knows there are probably security cameras all around, but he doesn't care. He doubts there are any in his room in particular as he hasn't -seen- any and after all, he's not all that important. "Look inside.. come on, before she comes back!"
Wide eyed from the unexpected kiss, Kirill shakes open the sack and tips the contents onto the bed beside Jason’s thigh. A thin length of leather pools on the sheet. “What is? Why?” His dark green eyes bounce from the bit of leather to Jason’s eyes.
"Look on the inside." Jason says excited, turning the leather length around. There is an engraving in Latin. Vestra Arcanum, Mei Lumen (Your Secret, My Light). He blushes a little, cheeks tinting fairly easily in the well illuminated room. He had wanted to put something else in there, but he wasn't ready yet to admit a deeper feeling. He wanted Kirill to know though, that all they had done wasn't just sex, or companionship to him. It was something special.
Kirill jerks his hand away as if burned. “I… not…” Face flaming in embarrassment of not knowing how to accept the gift, the older boy shifts his feet nervously. The Latin he understands and a warmth pools deep inside at the words meaning.
Jason takes the hand quickly before Kirill can escape the hospital room and run. "You are." He says firmly. "There's only one reason I managed to get through that damn 'observation' last week. Because of what you taught me, because of you, Kirill. You're the only good thing that has ever happened to me. Don't...don't turn away."
“Not special,” the Russian mumbles. Another shift of his feet and he looks into Jason’s eyes, and away quickly. He has no means to express his emotions, but can respond to the talk of the mission. “When not jumpy, talky, you good agent.”
Jason hmphs at the comment and presses the leather necklace into Kirill's hand. "Are you going to kiss me hello properly, or are you going to stand there all night wondering if I'm a figment of your imagination?"
“How you know?” the dark youth questions. He’s not realized Jason is learning to read Kirill’s expressions and subtle body language, as Kirill was learning aspects of humanity he’d never experienced before. The thought of fusing their lips together brings a stirring in his groin. Desire deepening the green of his eyes, the Russian lowers his head to lightly brush his lips over Bourne’s.
"Because you've already told me." Jason whispers heatedly against the light touch to his lips. He lifts his hand to slide over the familiar expanse of his lover's neck and revels in the heat of his skin.
A groan flows from his mouth into Jason’s when the boy’s hand curves behind his clubbed hair. The need for this youth is building and Kirill deepens the kiss by thrusting his tongue in the wet cavern and tangling with Bourne’s.
Shaking fingers glide to his lover's sensitive ear and Jason's hot tongue works in time with Kirill's. Oh, it's good, so good. He can't believe how much he's missed this contact. How much he's missed Kirill.
Leaning further down to brace an arm beside Jason’s head, Kirill feels the coldness that had been a part of him since Bourne left turning to a fever of desire. A creak outside the door alerts him, and before the nurse even opens the door, Kirill is twisted protectively in front of his lover with a small knife in hand.
A tiny smile of pride passes over his face as the Russian can feel Jason shift to a defensive position, palming some sort of weapon of his own, no doubt.
The nurse takes one look at the sheepish looks, yet intent positions of the young men and quirks a brow. “God, there are days I hate working this ward. At ease loves, or I’ll order deep cavity searches on both of you to remove all the weaponry I know is all over your persons.”
Jason grumbles, "Could you take a bit longer and come back in five minutes? I don't need the pain medication just yet."
"Darlin' I'm afraid not. There are other patients you know. This young man here is going to have to leave shortly, because you have to get some rest. I'm going to give you something to help you sleep okay? I understand that your recent adventure may have been a bit traumatizing. You're too young to be in the field." She tut tuts as Jason shifts his weapon back into his jacket and slips it down. She looks at Kirill decisively. "I'll let you have a few minutes alone but when the medication kicks in, then you'll have to come back in the morning." The nurse begins to prep needles, humming to herself. Jason eyes them suspiciously. "Don't need needles that long..."
Kirill hides a snort at Jason’s reaction, moving to the head of the bed. He never would’ve guessed the often fearless boy feared needles. He rests one hand on Bourne’s shoulder to both hold him still and let the heat of his touch calm the blond.
The nurse works quickly, chattering nonsensically all the while. Warning them again that Kirill would be personally escorted out soon, she makes her exit with a squeak of her soft-soled shoes.
The Russian doesn’t hold back the snort when he peers upside down into Jason’s scowl. “Was no bigger than cat claw.”
"It -hurt-" He complains, and had actually twitched when it pierced his skin. Jason picks up the leather band. "Humor me and wear it." He presses it into Kirill's hand testily.
"Make some better use of the time we have before I pass out and um...make me feel better." He looks up at his lover hopefully.
A finger fumbling with the clasp hidden in a knot of leather, Kirill lofts an eyebrow. “Ordering?” He growls a bit trying to refasten the clasp behind his neck. Why do thoughts of pleasure with Bourne so often make him clumsy?
'You bet." Jason reaches out to run his finger up Kirill's chest and down his stomach to play around his bellybutton. "You did miss me, didn't you?" He knows the answer. "I wish you could stay, would like your arms around me when I wake up." He yawns and curses. "Couldn't sleep much."
Matching Jason’s yawn Kirill shivers at the teasing touch. “Cat missed you.” Eying the logistics of the narrow bed, he hooks a foot in a chair leg to bring it closer. The dark youth sits where he can run his hand over Jason’s skin above and below the wrap. “What was missed most?” he asks softly, the hand skimming over the twitching flesh tenting the sheet.
“Your eyes." He shifts into the touch, a soft sound bleating from the back of his throat. "Your heat. Was cold, nervous." Jason admits. He groans, "Kirill.... please." He wishes someday that the Russian would actually admit what he's feeling. It was a crazy wish, in this dark life they led.
Expecting an answer of a more sexual nature, Kirill’s expressive eyes fly to Jason’s face. Seeing the need and something else in the boy’s now serious expression, he lowers his head to nuzzle the warm flesh between the bandage and top of sheet. “Cold, empty, yes,” he mutters into the blond down leading lower.
Knowing this will relax and put Bourne to sleep quickly, he pushes the sheet aside. He laps at the few drops of creamy fluid pooling on Jason’s quivering belly. The Russian next runs his tongue around the tip of Bourne’s cock watching it twitch and grow at his ministrations. One hand strokes down the shaft to hold it still for his descending mouth.
Jason writhes under the treatment, legs spreading slightly. He groans, due to the pain of movement, one hand petting Kirill's hair. "Ughnnn..." He gasps, feeling the warmth cocoon his twitching cock. The fire easily travels through the rest of his body as he tries to keep still, toes curling in the sheets. "Kirill..." He whispers plaintively.
The nurse, who was returning to extract Kirill from the room stops as she looks in the door. "My... lord." She quickly pulls the curtain closed and glances at the officer who is guarding Jason Bourne's room. "Um…" She blushes slightly. "I'll give them an extra ten minutes," the nurse mumbles and hurries away, cheeks flaming. The officer raises an eyebrow, and resumes his duty.
Intent on his task of bringing Jason to a quick release, Kirill missed the start of the woman’s return, but heaves a sigh of relief when she closes the screen. Humming around his mouthful, he fondles Jason’s balls and runs a long finger down to tease the boy’s opening. Head bobbing in counterpoint to Bourne’s arching hips, the older boy suckles and laves his tongue, willing his lover to come.
Jason's audible noises become slightly more insistent as Kirill teases him. The direct attention is quickly bringing him towards climax and he gasps loudly when he feels himself just about to come. This was definitely one thing that he missed: Kirill's skill when it came to this particular activity. "I'm gonna..." He can't finish the words, hips jerking and body shuddering. "Kirill!"
Letting the jets of come pulse down his throat, Kirill sucks until every drop is pulled from his lover. Licking the last bit from his plump lips, he looks up Jason’s body, and whisper-growls “Sleep now?”
Jason takes a long sigh of relief and tugs until Kirill is in his arms, or he's in Kirill's arms. One way or the other, he's determined to get a hug from his lover before he passes out. "I missed you, just you." He manages to say softly before sleep and exhaustion overcome him. His fingers tangled in Kirill's hair, he slowly slips off into a deep sleep.
Nose buried in Jason’s neck, Kirill breathes in the clean sun smell of this special man he nearly lost. Wanting nothing more than to continue to hold his lover through the night, risking collapsing the bed and bringing down the wrath of the nurse, Kirill reluctantly straightens. He tucks the covers around Bourne, staring at the peaceful face for a couple more minutes before exiting.
The quiet man fingers the bit of leather nestled against his throat as he jogs down the staircase. Bourne had no way of knowing this was the first gift Kirill’s ever received. Knowing it is a tangible connection to the sleeping youth is the only way the Russian garnered the strength to leave his side. He’ll return at first light, Kirill is not going to let the boy face the reality of a deadly ‘first’ alone.
He could track down the men from the compound that are surely still here, but running the miles back will help work off his arousal and the new lump of warmth deep inside his chest.
The nurse returns shortly thereafter to make sure that all is in order. She had watched the man called Kirill leave, a slight flutter in her heart. Were she to ever have the love of such a man, she would certainly never leave him.
TBC
Author: rufferto and kitty_trio
Fandom: Bourne Supremacy
Characters: Jason Bourne/Kirill
Prompt: #18 Gift
Word Count: 3667
Rating: NC-17, Slash
Disclaimer: It’s Fiction! Never happened. All lies from troubled minds. We do not own Jason, Kirill or any characters from the Bourne universe. Other characters are figments of vivid imaginations, any similarity to persons real or fictitious is merely incidental. No money made from this fantasy.
Author's Notes: Two young guns in spy school will not only learn to become lovers and assassins, but 'do it' against a backdrop of fluffy snags along the way.
This came from Karl’s comments about a running joke on the set that Kirill shot Jason’s girlfriend in Goa because the two had a ‘thing’ whilst in spy school together. Written for the 25fluffyfics Challenge.
Click button for our Fluffy Table:
Banner manip as always, made lovingly by rufferto
Prompt 18: Gift
It had been foolish to go after Lataski when Nigel was killed. He’d acted on instinct though and hadn’t really been thinking. His orders had been to leave if things went bad. The young man rubbed his sweaty brow. The airplane was hot, and the seat he was in wasn’t helping. He fingers the small package in his coat pocket grateful that he was able to save that at least when he finally made it out of that river. He was also glad he kept his plane ticket in his pocket. The hotel was already cased out by the police. Sloppy.
They had put him with a number one agent. Nigel Harding was number one in his day, but he had got too cocky this time, showing the ‘young one’ the ropes. The aging spy now had three holes in his brain, and didn’t even complete the job.
Bourne had been forced to do everything in his power to make sure that the target met his end. It was technically his first job, and his hands were still shaking from it. He wasn’t entirely sure he was psychologically ready for this. Lataski was an evil son of a bitch, and deserved the hit, but still. Jason swallows and keeps focused on the seat ahead, trying to steady himself.
The explosion had been a little extreme, he supposed, but if they had been able to identify Nigel’s body they could have traced it back to the center. Above all else, Jason had been taught to protect the center. He would have called, but during the fight, he’d lost his cellphone, and now all he had was time to kill in the plane.
From her spot atop the warm refrigerator, Perseverance watches her dark savior pace. For many sunsets he has become increasingly agitated. Even going so far as to forget to clean her box after her last use. The kitten gives a little sniff. This tall one should be in a much better mood. The ‘other one’ has thankfully disappeared. That should be cause for celebration not distracted pacing. A sharp rap sounds on the door and Percy backs out of sight as she’s been taught.
“What word?” Kirill grunts at the training officer raising a fist to finish the knock.
The older man doesn’t quite meet the intense gaze of the recruit as he explains neither agent has been heard from, and none of the coded phone calls have been answered. The reports of local police interference and bombs were not a good omen. Patting Kirill once on the shoulder, the man snatches his hand away when the quiet youth growls menacingly.
Jason is shaken awake as the plane lands, he mumbles to himself something about not his turn to feed the kitten. The stewardess chuckles and gives him a pat. "Sir, the plane has landed. It's time to get out, Sir."
Home? Well, home. Jason gives a tired yawn, sleep has been listless and he is aching from a couple of cracked ribs and a lot of bruising. No hospitals yet, that’s for when he makes it back. The man was dead, he had the information they needed, why did it hurt so much to think?
Maybe he wasn't ready yet. Maybe Kirill was right after all. He was -good- though. He'd snipered the guy from three blocks away while he was moving. Jason's mind raced with the intensity of it all and he finally manages to get off the plane with the Stewardess' help.
The center is immediately notified when Jason gets off the plane and is spotted at the airport.
He knew Bourne was not ready to go on an assignment. Kirill smashes a fist onto the counter, making the row of condiments and canisters bounce. The older boy had pleaded with the CO, to no avail. Now that bright light in his world of darkness is gone. An uneasy lump has been growing in his gut with each day of no news. Zipping his jacket against the cold that seems to be coming from within him rather than without, the darkly dressed youth slips quietly out of the flat. If he runs long and far enough, maybe he can exhaust himself before his swirling emotions escape. He’s survived physical pain before by withdrawing into his mind. Why was this so much harder to contain?
There's a phone call made, and then another. It's quick to get back to the center. The officer who had been visiting Kirill stops and answers his phone. He is at the bottom of the trainee's steps just as Kirill opens the door to come out.
"They've found him? In what condition. Good. Okay. Send him to the hospital, I'll be right there. No he can't, he has to get checked out first."
Jason clutches the package while he glares at the person in the limo, "I'm fine... I don't need..."
"Procedure, Bourne." The officer with him says sharply.
Kirill is silently at the bottom of the stairs before man closes his phone. “Him? Only one?”
“Fuck man!” The officer clutches his chest as the wraith appears as if from nowhere. “The kid, Hospital, come on,” he gasps hurrying to a staff car. The man gives the dark youth side-long looks throughout the drive. ‘Shit the boy gives me the willies.’ A natural operative, with his emotionless face, quiet and still presence, he’d be able to sneak into any situation without ever being noticed. Even now, the Russian’s head is lowered, seemingly asleep, not a muscle twitching as he sits with his hands calmly on his knees.
They are met at the service entrance to the hospital and briskly ushered inside. The commander and his debriefing team are already upstairs. At least that means the young American can talk. A small smile at the shadow beside him slips when the youth continued staring at his feet.
“No!" Jason grabs at his coat, in a tug of war with the nurse as the commander is still trying to debrief him. "Leave it." The nurse relents, and scuttles around the boy, trying to make him comfortable. He's already been bandaged and x-rayed.
"It was extremely foolhardy of you to go after that man, Bourne." The Commander snaps angrily, looking through the folder.
"I killed him." Jason replies stonily.
"And drew a whole lot of media attention we did not need. Operatives are not supposed to…"
"It wasn't my fault sir, he saw us and could ID us. I went after him because Harding slipped up!" Jason's temper and the pain he is in, is finally getting the better of him. "I had to go after him."
"Alright Bourne, we're going to review the records of this case and validate your story. In the meantime, I want you to let the hospital take care of you. You're injured, and you'll need to undergo a psychological evaluation because you were only there to observe."
Filing unnoticed into the private room with the others, Kirill slips into a dark corner to gauge Jason for himself. He spares one glare for the CO, and then drinks in the sight of Bourne being so vibrantly alive. Only his eyes, hidden by the deep shadow of a large piece of medical equipment, move, traveling over every inch of Jason’s form.
Jason squirms, grunting at the nurse. "It’s fine! I'm fine. I don't need..." He sees Kirill. Then looks to the CO. "Understood Sir." He mutters, trying once again to be subordinate. It really -wasn't- his fault.
"Good. Now that we are clear. Welcome back, Bourne." The CO turns, nearly missing the fact that Kirill was in the room. "Oh, Kirill. Nice work on the simulation yesterday. You do fine work." He and the other men leave finally and Jason gives a long sigh of relief.
The nurse fusses, "I'll be back with some pain medication sir, and the doctor will have the evaluation of your ribs. Please stay in bed. In the morning, the psychologist will be here to evaluate you."
Kirill stays in his corner, if he moves this illusion of Jason safely back will burst. Just like the fitful dreams he’s been having the few times he’s been able to sleep in the empty flat. He’d never thought another man could be beautiful, but the boy restlessly shifting on the bed truly is. Not just the youthful face and the fringe that always fell over one light blue eye. The vibrancy of Bourne lit every room he entered. Even now, with the short-fused temper barely contained, nothing has ever looked lovelier.
"Hey." Jason gives Kirill a half smile, once the nurse has finally left them alone. "Well, I'm in one piece." He lifts his eyes to Kirill, clearly using the excuse of humor to try and hide whatever he's feeling. As an after thought, he asks, "You remembered to feed Percy, I hope?"
Kirill shakes his head, fearing if he spoke, all the pent up anger with their CO will tumble out. His eyes glitter with that and all the need and longing for the blond.
Jason's smile widens as he holds out his hand. "Come here, I'm not going to vanish. Besides, I have something for you." He holds the Russian’s eyes, knowing somehow that Kirill needed to be close to him. "Did you miss me?"
Giving one look to the closed door, Kirill approaches the bed. “Quiet,” the taller boy doesn’t clarify that the flat was too quiet and too empty without Jason’s presence. He latches onto Bourne’s hand needing to feel for himself that the boy truly is here. A few bruises and scrapes, the bandaged ribs, but alive and grinning in his impish way.
Jason squeezes Kirill's hand. "Yeah, I'll bet." One thumb rubs absently along his lover's knuckles. "Hey, look." He drags the coat over with his other hand and messily manages to delve into it's pocket, He brings out a small paper bag that's slightly crunched up and grins, feeling the weight of the object still within. "I couldn't leave without getting you something."
Kirill shivers at the strokes over the back of his hand. Rolling his eyes as relief loosens some of the anxiety knotting his stomach, he brushes the blond lock off Jason’s brow. The inevitable reality of a first kill isn’t lurking in Bourne’s eyes, yet. The young assassin knows the ordered meds will also contain a sleeping agent, and will find a way to keep Jason’s mind occupied until he drifts off to sleep. He eyes the package warily. “American native, scalp first kill… is not?”
Jason laughs out loud, leaning forward to kiss Kirill suddenly and quickly. "No. Look inside." He leans back on the pillows and watches cheekily. He knows there are probably security cameras all around, but he doesn't care. He doubts there are any in his room in particular as he hasn't -seen- any and after all, he's not all that important. "Look inside.. come on, before she comes back!"
Wide eyed from the unexpected kiss, Kirill shakes open the sack and tips the contents onto the bed beside Jason’s thigh. A thin length of leather pools on the sheet. “What is? Why?” His dark green eyes bounce from the bit of leather to Jason’s eyes.
"Look on the inside." Jason says excited, turning the leather length around. There is an engraving in Latin. Vestra Arcanum, Mei Lumen (Your Secret, My Light). He blushes a little, cheeks tinting fairly easily in the well illuminated room. He had wanted to put something else in there, but he wasn't ready yet to admit a deeper feeling. He wanted Kirill to know though, that all they had done wasn't just sex, or companionship to him. It was something special.
Kirill jerks his hand away as if burned. “I… not…” Face flaming in embarrassment of not knowing how to accept the gift, the older boy shifts his feet nervously. The Latin he understands and a warmth pools deep inside at the words meaning.
Jason takes the hand quickly before Kirill can escape the hospital room and run. "You are." He says firmly. "There's only one reason I managed to get through that damn 'observation' last week. Because of what you taught me, because of you, Kirill. You're the only good thing that has ever happened to me. Don't...don't turn away."
“Not special,” the Russian mumbles. Another shift of his feet and he looks into Jason’s eyes, and away quickly. He has no means to express his emotions, but can respond to the talk of the mission. “When not jumpy, talky, you good agent.”
Jason hmphs at the comment and presses the leather necklace into Kirill's hand. "Are you going to kiss me hello properly, or are you going to stand there all night wondering if I'm a figment of your imagination?"
“How you know?” the dark youth questions. He’s not realized Jason is learning to read Kirill’s expressions and subtle body language, as Kirill was learning aspects of humanity he’d never experienced before. The thought of fusing their lips together brings a stirring in his groin. Desire deepening the green of his eyes, the Russian lowers his head to lightly brush his lips over Bourne’s.
"Because you've already told me." Jason whispers heatedly against the light touch to his lips. He lifts his hand to slide over the familiar expanse of his lover's neck and revels in the heat of his skin.
A groan flows from his mouth into Jason’s when the boy’s hand curves behind his clubbed hair. The need for this youth is building and Kirill deepens the kiss by thrusting his tongue in the wet cavern and tangling with Bourne’s.
Shaking fingers glide to his lover's sensitive ear and Jason's hot tongue works in time with Kirill's. Oh, it's good, so good. He can't believe how much he's missed this contact. How much he's missed Kirill.
Leaning further down to brace an arm beside Jason’s head, Kirill feels the coldness that had been a part of him since Bourne left turning to a fever of desire. A creak outside the door alerts him, and before the nurse even opens the door, Kirill is twisted protectively in front of his lover with a small knife in hand.
A tiny smile of pride passes over his face as the Russian can feel Jason shift to a defensive position, palming some sort of weapon of his own, no doubt.
The nurse takes one look at the sheepish looks, yet intent positions of the young men and quirks a brow. “God, there are days I hate working this ward. At ease loves, or I’ll order deep cavity searches on both of you to remove all the weaponry I know is all over your persons.”
Jason grumbles, "Could you take a bit longer and come back in five minutes? I don't need the pain medication just yet."
"Darlin' I'm afraid not. There are other patients you know. This young man here is going to have to leave shortly, because you have to get some rest. I'm going to give you something to help you sleep okay? I understand that your recent adventure may have been a bit traumatizing. You're too young to be in the field." She tut tuts as Jason shifts his weapon back into his jacket and slips it down. She looks at Kirill decisively. "I'll let you have a few minutes alone but when the medication kicks in, then you'll have to come back in the morning." The nurse begins to prep needles, humming to herself. Jason eyes them suspiciously. "Don't need needles that long..."
Kirill hides a snort at Jason’s reaction, moving to the head of the bed. He never would’ve guessed the often fearless boy feared needles. He rests one hand on Bourne’s shoulder to both hold him still and let the heat of his touch calm the blond.
The nurse works quickly, chattering nonsensically all the while. Warning them again that Kirill would be personally escorted out soon, she makes her exit with a squeak of her soft-soled shoes.
The Russian doesn’t hold back the snort when he peers upside down into Jason’s scowl. “Was no bigger than cat claw.”
"It -hurt-" He complains, and had actually twitched when it pierced his skin. Jason picks up the leather band. "Humor me and wear it." He presses it into Kirill's hand testily.
"Make some better use of the time we have before I pass out and um...make me feel better." He looks up at his lover hopefully.
A finger fumbling with the clasp hidden in a knot of leather, Kirill lofts an eyebrow. “Ordering?” He growls a bit trying to refasten the clasp behind his neck. Why do thoughts of pleasure with Bourne so often make him clumsy?
'You bet." Jason reaches out to run his finger up Kirill's chest and down his stomach to play around his bellybutton. "You did miss me, didn't you?" He knows the answer. "I wish you could stay, would like your arms around me when I wake up." He yawns and curses. "Couldn't sleep much."
Matching Jason’s yawn Kirill shivers at the teasing touch. “Cat missed you.” Eying the logistics of the narrow bed, he hooks a foot in a chair leg to bring it closer. The dark youth sits where he can run his hand over Jason’s skin above and below the wrap. “What was missed most?” he asks softly, the hand skimming over the twitching flesh tenting the sheet.
“Your eyes." He shifts into the touch, a soft sound bleating from the back of his throat. "Your heat. Was cold, nervous." Jason admits. He groans, "Kirill.... please." He wishes someday that the Russian would actually admit what he's feeling. It was a crazy wish, in this dark life they led.
Expecting an answer of a more sexual nature, Kirill’s expressive eyes fly to Jason’s face. Seeing the need and something else in the boy’s now serious expression, he lowers his head to nuzzle the warm flesh between the bandage and top of sheet. “Cold, empty, yes,” he mutters into the blond down leading lower.
Knowing this will relax and put Bourne to sleep quickly, he pushes the sheet aside. He laps at the few drops of creamy fluid pooling on Jason’s quivering belly. The Russian next runs his tongue around the tip of Bourne’s cock watching it twitch and grow at his ministrations. One hand strokes down the shaft to hold it still for his descending mouth.
Jason writhes under the treatment, legs spreading slightly. He groans, due to the pain of movement, one hand petting Kirill's hair. "Ughnnn..." He gasps, feeling the warmth cocoon his twitching cock. The fire easily travels through the rest of his body as he tries to keep still, toes curling in the sheets. "Kirill..." He whispers plaintively.
The nurse, who was returning to extract Kirill from the room stops as she looks in the door. "My... lord." She quickly pulls the curtain closed and glances at the officer who is guarding Jason Bourne's room. "Um…" She blushes slightly. "I'll give them an extra ten minutes," the nurse mumbles and hurries away, cheeks flaming. The officer raises an eyebrow, and resumes his duty.
Intent on his task of bringing Jason to a quick release, Kirill missed the start of the woman’s return, but heaves a sigh of relief when she closes the screen. Humming around his mouthful, he fondles Jason’s balls and runs a long finger down to tease the boy’s opening. Head bobbing in counterpoint to Bourne’s arching hips, the older boy suckles and laves his tongue, willing his lover to come.
Jason's audible noises become slightly more insistent as Kirill teases him. The direct attention is quickly bringing him towards climax and he gasps loudly when he feels himself just about to come. This was definitely one thing that he missed: Kirill's skill when it came to this particular activity. "I'm gonna..." He can't finish the words, hips jerking and body shuddering. "Kirill!"
Letting the jets of come pulse down his throat, Kirill sucks until every drop is pulled from his lover. Licking the last bit from his plump lips, he looks up Jason’s body, and whisper-growls “Sleep now?”
Jason takes a long sigh of relief and tugs until Kirill is in his arms, or he's in Kirill's arms. One way or the other, he's determined to get a hug from his lover before he passes out. "I missed you, just you." He manages to say softly before sleep and exhaustion overcome him. His fingers tangled in Kirill's hair, he slowly slips off into a deep sleep.
Nose buried in Jason’s neck, Kirill breathes in the clean sun smell of this special man he nearly lost. Wanting nothing more than to continue to hold his lover through the night, risking collapsing the bed and bringing down the wrath of the nurse, Kirill reluctantly straightens. He tucks the covers around Bourne, staring at the peaceful face for a couple more minutes before exiting.
The quiet man fingers the bit of leather nestled against his throat as he jogs down the staircase. Bourne had no way of knowing this was the first gift Kirill’s ever received. Knowing it is a tangible connection to the sleeping youth is the only way the Russian garnered the strength to leave his side. He’ll return at first light, Kirill is not going to let the boy face the reality of a deadly ‘first’ alone.
He could track down the men from the compound that are surely still here, but running the miles back will help work off his arousal and the new lump of warmth deep inside his chest.
The nurse returns shortly thereafter to make sure that all is in order. She had watched the man called Kirill leave, a slight flutter in her heart. Were she to ever have the love of such a man, she would certainly never leave him.
TBC