the midnight chronicles
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This is the moment that Boris chooses to roll over, murmuring some Ukrainian nonsense—Ya lyublyu tebe, ty ebut, Theo gathers, but he doesn’t know what it means.
He doesn’t have the opportunity to try and translate it, either; Boris’s arm reaches out and closes over Theo’s torso. He pulls him, shifting forward himself, still muttering (though now it sounds Polish).
or: boris and theo talk about emotions
Series
- Part 1 of the midnight chronicles
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“I want you.”
Boris does not need to be told twice. He will do whatever for Theo. Never has he been so willing. Boris grew up getting called upryamyy trakh, stubborn fuck, yes. Boris does what he wants, when he wants. Nothing for anyone.
Anything for Theo.
Series
- Part 2 of the midnight chronicles
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The first night without him is the hardest, but every one after is full of a dull aching, ever-present; a yearning for someone he can’t reach, no matter how far he stretches himself.
Unesennyye vetrom.
Series
- Part 3 of the midnight chronicles
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Of all the people in this world, Boris cares the most. His touches, his words, all of his effort. He cares about Theo. But beyond that, beyond caring, there lies the unspoken territory of something else. Something doors are opened to when an arm reaches out and pulls him close in the middle of the night, or when Theo feels himself go warm everywhere, from his skin to his bones; when he falls into that territory but doesn’t acknowledge its existence.
They both know it’s there.
They ignore it, though; they go on with how they are, they don’t speak of it.
Series
- Part 4 of the midnight chronicles