I don't know what to say, really. There are various parings, all yaoi.
KaiRei, BorisRei, BorisKai. And one more, hinted throughout the story. It should be obvious ;) is to me anyway. No, but seriously. It should be obvious, given the hints I have given. I just don't want to spoil it…
Never tickle a sleeping dragon.
Frozen, cold. A deity frozen in time, born out of snow and ice.
Strong, tall, lean…and dangerous. Enticing. He left behind a trail of ice. His anger was scorching. Scorching frost. I'm inclined to believe it's because of his eyes.
Kai's are burning, like the fire he possesses. Boris's are a light grey, sometimes lavender, like the wind. The wind I grew up with.
His eyes reflect the tundra he possesses. My captain is known for his distant coldness, but compared to the chill he evokes, it's nothing.
When I was a child, I once licked a stone in the middle of the winter. I didn't feel the pain then, because the coldness numbed. Even as the rock was torn off of with little thought by a villager. I couldn't speak for several days, and the pain was searing. I swore to myself then I would never again touch what winter has touched, blessed.
But now, as I watch him immobilise reporters, fangirls and members from other teams, stop them in their tracks as if frozen to the spot. I wonder, would I too be frozen? Would his icy glare chill me the way it does others? My own team-mates? Former and present?
Maybe nothing would happen. I never let Kai's burning glare intimidate me, but then, I was never as intrigued with him as I am now.
The prince of ice.
Only his flames beg to differ, claiming warmth is everywhere, even within him. His burning hair, so unlike anything I've ever seen. Vibrant, fiery, beckoning. So much like his personality.
Vibrant, but not enthusiastic. His personality is vibrant, strong, brightly coloured. His fighting is strong, secure. His speech is a myriad of intellectual words strung together, creating vibrant, strong reactions.
Fiery, but cold as ice, not they way red normally is. His red is cold.
Beckoning, dangerous. Like the sirens. Only he doesn't try, it's in his nature. He is beautiful, he is lethal.
He is beautiful, cunning. Never tickle a sleeping dragon. Those foolish enough to tickle him never do it again. It's a thing you only do once out of stupidity.
It wasn't that long ago, when Kai had him over, and asked me to wake him. Breakfast was ready. From the moment the tip of my finger brushed his arm, to the moment I was lying winded on the ground with him straddling me went in the blink of an eye.
His eyes were so cold, glinting and hazardous. I shivered, feeling the cold run up and down my spine. He seemed to be shocked, that I was the one who dared to touch him, but like Kai, he doesn't speak unless spoken to, and very rarely even then. I grinned, the way I normally do, reading the blazing eyes. 'I maybe should've asked exactly how to wake you, eh? Breakfast's ready. Kai sent me.'
Kai, Boris, him, they never apologise. Never with words, written or spoken. Their eyes do it for them, or their gestures, actions. He offered to cook lunch. Kai would kiss me. Boris took me for a walk.
Now, as I stand here with Rai's disgusted, furious gaze at me, I think maybe he too, should've learned never to tickle a sleeping dragon. Predators are lethal, after all. Be they snakes, tigers, wolves or actual dragons.
He was frostbitten. I declined to save him.
He still remembers the time I spent with Kai so long ago, not so long ago. He saw the kisses, the fumbling hands and marks left behind. And he never forgave me. Forgave Kai for making me this way.
Rai believes in the 'happily-ever-after' cliché. He believes in one love, one marriage and one life. In the years since I left the village I've had three relationships. Two of which was with the same person. And most important of all, or why Rai hates it so much, why it disgust him so, they were all with men. Men he hates.
Kai was the one I loved, who loved me. And we were happy, content during our years. In the end, it became years, such a long time, even split in half. Even though we separated for a year, and I had an affair. With Boris. We still decided to buy a home. Our home. It didn't sit well with Rai.
Recently, we separated again, in our apartment. Our home. Though no longer lovers, neither of us saw the need to move apart, I didn't want to move, and neither did he. I love that place as much as Kai does.
I suspect we will have to buy two beds soon, when Boris notice I still share with Kai. They will have to start dating first though. I suspect it will be soon. Or else they are denser than I gave them credit for.
It happened over night almost. All of a sudden, everything was so awkward. The excitement didn't come. His hands were imposing, his mouth was not hot.
How we laughed.
Rai didn't. 'Come home.' He says, 'you don't belong here!' But I do. This is my home, Russia, is my home, my language and the air that I breathe. Here I have what I could never have in China.
The red on his check is slowly darkening, turning blue. It really was stupid of Rai to yank him away like that. Never touch the untouchable. Never tickle a sleeping dragon.
Rai never was good with reading people, seeing what's not being said. The subtle hints. Rai saw him glaring at me, a deathly tight grip on my collar.
I saw the question, the worry. Was I hurt? Had I been abused? Was I ill? Upset?
Rai took it as a personal insult when I didn't retaliate, but instead took his side, gently taking hold of his arm. He shook it off, of course, but he let the matter drop, marching away.
I realise now, as I calmly meet Rai's furious glare, that this is the end of our lifelong bond. He will go back to China, marry the suitable girl of the appropriate family, and produce the expected heir. I grasp now what I have been unable to, that Rai never thought I would stick with this 'teenage rebellion'. He wholeheartedly thought I would move back once I became older. But now, seven years after I left the village, at twenty-two I still won't return, it finally makes him see that I had never had the slightest intention of returning. Ever. And that angers him.
I don't hear him walk away.
I realise with a start that the prince of ice is standing next to me. Two steaming lattes in hand. I silently accept mine, whispering a quiet thank you. I receive a frosty glare. And a smirk. A smirk. The first one I have ever been on the receiving end of, from him.
I silently walk half a step behind him, studying his tall form. Lean and slender. Muscular, firm. Pale skin.
A finely chiselled masterpiece from the coldest part of Russia.
I am not as surprised as I perhaps should have been when it is his apartment we end up at. I am slightly curious, but then he looks up, and I see the cool amusement glint slightly in his ice eyes. Understanding dawns. They finally made a move on each other.
I smile, and the smile slowly dies.
Another bond would have to end, eventually. Kai and I can't keep living together for ever. Eventually, he and Boris would want a life together. Alone. Without me as a live-in. We would have to part with our beloved apartment.
I shiver, and look up, noticing his frosty gaze on me. Worrying, understanding and threatening.
Worry for me. For my heart. Worry for Kai, if I were to hate him because of Boris. For the both of them if I were to try and separate them.
Understanding for the drop of my smile. For the love I've let go.
Threatening for daring to hurt them. For them to hurt me.
I shrug, attempting a smile, sipping my latte, and awkwardly move over to sit on the couch. I've never been here before, and it's cosy. And I smile.
Cosy means warmth.
The couch dips slightly as he sits next to me. 'It's the apartment,' I say, taking another sip, 'we both love it. I don't want to move, neither does he. It's why we still live together.'. Still live together. After a year.
He smirks again, gently, only a hint of winter.
I find myself smirking along with him, a fang peaking out. 'A year, and we have yet to move the beds apart.'
He snickers. I can actually see him snicker, hear it the way it was meant to be heard. My smirk turns into a smile. It's beautiful. Like ice crystals. And then he speaks. His voice is deep, with a husky edge to it. The kind you get after spending too much time outside in the winter. 'I'm sure Boris'll make good use of it.'.
My eyes widen, and I splutter, choking on the hot beverage. Suddenly his hand is on my thigh, stroking gently, squeezing. I blush. His hand is warm, despite the coldness of his hair, the flames beginning to differ. I shiver, licking my lips, suddenly dry and chapped.
'Stealth and espionage are not your good qualities.' His eyes are glinting dangerously, predatorily, promising punishment. A blizzard.
Never tickle a sleeping dragon.
And that's it. Finito. R&R, please?