Disclaimer: Don't own diddly (don't own any of the characters)
Warning: Hints to Yassen/Alex Male/Male relationship
Summary: Yassen pulls Alex to safety after shooting Sayle, but what is the price Alex has to pay? Warning: Male/Male (might contain non-con later)
I couldn't find any other Yassen/Alex stories on so unless you can prove otherwise, I call the first Yassen/Alex pairing!
This story is dedicated to Ceriadara. Her work is awesome, so go read.
The Price To Pay
Alex stared into the emotionless eyes of the older male, hanging upside down by the legs, from a harness fastened to the helicopter.
Since the moment Alex laid eyes on the Russian assassin, he had been taken by the attractive man. Alex tried to deny it, but in the end he had to admit that he had fallen head over heels for none other than the cold-hearted Yassen Gregorovich. Alex hated himself for it, after all Yassen had killed his uncle. As he hung with only a thin cord keeping him from falling to a sudden death, he was faced with a dilemma; Take the Russian's hand, the one he had fallen so hard and fast for, and be pulled to safety, or hold on to the cord that was already giving way to his weight, and plummet to a sudden and undignified death?
Yassen was still holding out his hand, waiting for Alex to make his decision. Just as the cord snapped, Yassen grabbed his wrist, holding him as the chopper flew away from the building, and away from the people standing below.
After they had been raised into the helicopter by the co-pilot, Yassen sat down in the back row and grabbed Alex around the waist, pulling him to sit on the floor between his legs. Alex, surprised by the action, said nothing for a while, but soon enough his curiosity got the better of him.
"Why didn't you let me fall?" Alex said, turning around to face the Russian. He immediately wished he hadn't, as he was faced with a certain area of the Russian. He blushed red, turning around quickly, hoping the assassin hadn't noticed his gaze.
After a few moments of silence, Alex realized that Yassen had yet to answer him. "Considering you didn't give me a choice as to whether or not I wished to be saved, you could at least answer my question." Alex said angrily.
Yassen just continued to ignore him, so Alex decided to ask another question. "Why did you pull me down to sit here? I'm completely capable of sitting without assistance." He wasn't really expecting an answer, and was surprised to hear Yassen speak.
"Would you really have chosen death over being rescued by me?" There was no emotion in his voice, and Alex shivered from the emptiness. The Russian noticed the slight tremor that went through the teen. "Are you cold, Alex?"
Alex nodded, both from not wanting the assassin to figure out the truth, and because he actually was beginning to feel a little cold.
Yassen bent over Alex to retrieve a blanket from underneath the chair opposite. As he was reaching over, Alex was assaulted by an intoxicating smell, which he realized was coming from the Russian. He felt a slight tingling in his loins, and he drew in a quick breath, trying to relax himself.
Yassen heard the slight intake of breath, and he raised his eyebrow for a second, but didn't comment. In stead he unfolded the blanket and placed it over the young teen.
After that they fell silent, both of them deep in thought. Alex was trying to make sense of the recent events, and Yassen was thinking about what was to happen later.
Without even realizing it, Alex began to drop off, his head resting back against the seat, and brushing against Yassen's thighs.
Yassen smirked slightly down at the young boy, but Alex, who by then was fast asleep, never saw the predatory gleam in the cold blue eyes.