Fatal Meeting (Ev and Zakhar)

Evgeni sat by the side of the fountain, sprawled out as he watched the water flow, one foot casually dangling into the pool. It was cool and soothed his wounds and healing bones. Although he was pretty much healed now, his joints were still a little stiff and the scarred skin felt tight across his bones.

He took a deep inhale, eyes sliding closed as he lay down, fluttering open to gaze up at the sky.

Perhaps he should leave at some point. But then, it was comfortable here, and nobody had tried to hurt him so far. And truth be told, he needed a bed.

Sleep.

Zakhar wanted sleep. Anywhere for any amount of time. Just not in his bed.

The bed felt too comfortable at the moment. Too soft. He missed the rough nights when he had to sleep on the floor with no blanket in the cold.

Today wasn't cold, but he had been up all night and he wanted somewhere uncomfortable to sleep.

An odd need, but Zakhar was an odd man and prided himself in being that way.

The courtyard was his choice of 'bed.' He could perch himself on the edge of the fountain and fall asleep there. If he didn't fall into the water or to the ground, then oh well. If he did it was a bonus.

There was someone there.

Screw them, he wanted to sleep.

Zakhar passed the other man and spread himself out onto the thin brick wall of the fountain.

Evgeni twitched as the man passed him, sitting bolt upright, a quiet growl rumbling in his chest. He didn't like being disturbed when he was relaxing, and he wasn't comfortable with exposing his stomach and throat around another Lycan.

"Who are you?" he snapped, expression closed off.

He still felt uncomfortable around people since he was recovering from injuries. Everyone around him he saw as a threat. Paranoid, perhaps, but then, he had always had to be.

Zakhar waved a hand dismissively when the man snapped at him.

His silver eye glared up at him as he stretched out further, giving a soft moan at the harsh stone against his clothed back.

He was dressed unusually for himself today. He had on his usual thong and white shirt, though it was unbuttoned to show off his pale, toned chest and stomach and he lacked a waistcoat. Black straight leg jeans clung to his hips and his feet were bare.

"I said, `Who are you?'"

He snarled, his voice becoming a little more threatening as he straightened up, prowling over to stand over him.

It made him even more suspicious that the man wouldn't answer the question. Even though the man wasn't trying to hurt him yet, he was not naturally a trusting person, and that made him suspicious.

Plus he was not in the mood to be playful, since he was healing and playfulness for him usually meant bullying.

"Will you leave me to sleep?"

He didn't want to get angry at the moment - he was too damned tired - but if this damned pup kept up, he was going to get annoyed and it wouldn't be a pretty sight.

Zakhar ran a hand through his raven hair, glaring up at the other man for a few moments before his eyes slid closed again.

He wanted to sleep.

Another snarl rumbled at the back of his throat and he lunged downwards to grab the man's hair, dragging him upwards.

"You will tell me just who you are."

His voice had become calm, cold. But the message was clear. If this man didn't tell him who he was, Evgeni would regard him as a threat.

And he did not take well to threats.

"Otebis'," he groaned softly.

He didn't want to have to deal with this at the moment. He wanted to sleep. Sleep.

A low, threatening growl erupted in his chest when the other Wolf yanked him up by his hair. Bastard!

His own hand snapped up, yanking at Evgeni's hair sharply, curling the dark hair around his palm to give himself a better hold.

He was awake now. And he was pissed.

"You will leave me the fuck alone so I can get some fucking sleep," he hissed, his silver eye narrowing dangerously. As usual, in his anger, his heavy Russian accent slipped and gave way to a much clearer English accent.

______
Fuck off (Russian)

He let out a snarl as a hand yanked his hair, and sank his teeth deep into the man's arm, pulling away when he tasted blood.

A growl rumbled in his chest, shoving the man down roughly, one hand gripping both of his wrists, while the other gripped his throat. Not enough to choke him, but constricted enough to be uncomfortable.

"You will tell me who you are before I decide you're a threat."

His lip curled. The man seemed to be dodging the question. He was even more paranoid because he was injured and he didn't trust other lycans very much. Least of all one who was larger than him and wouldn't give his name when asked.

"Oooh, a threat. So scary. I'm shaking in boots."

Did people really think he was so weak as to fear becoming a threat? He had lived his life threatening and being threatened by others.

"I think it is you that should fear becoming threat. I squash threat like child and little ant." He cocked his head to the side, lips quirking up into a little grin. "Or I keep them and play like child and little dragonfly; tear pride and freedom like wings."

Zakhar gave a low, predatory purr. "Are you ant or dragonfly, Malenʹkiy Volk?"

_______
Little wolf

"I do not think you are in position to threaten me now." he growled, his accent becoming a little thicker in his impatience.

His hands tightened around the man's throat, tight enough to bruise, choking him just a little. He didn't want to kill anyone here while it gave him food and shelter, and he didn't want to put his own life in danger by doing so, but just a little pain might force the man to talk.

"Talk."

Zakhar was quick to lurch forwards, knocking the man's hands from his wrists and neck as he sat up, pushing the man away from him.

His foot hooked behind Evgeni's leg, tugging back towards him and knocking him to the ground with a loud thud. The younger Lycan dropped to his knees over the man, straddling his hips and pinning his hands above his head.

He bowed over the older man, his silky raven hair brushing over the man's face.

"In good enough position to threaten now?" he purred dangerously, his silver eye flashing dangerously.

He snarled as Zakhar knocked him over, aiming a punch at the man, only for it to be blocked as his wrists were pinned down.

His lip curled up at the man, baring his teeth threateningly, a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat as he struggled under his weight. He leaned up to sink his teeth into the man's shoulder, simultaneously bringing his knee into Zakhar's crotch.

"Makhni. Se. Ot. Men." he growled, eyes flashing.



(translation: "Get. Off. Me.")

The Russian man gave a loud, pained shout when the man's knee connected with his groin.

"Mudilo," he growled, his own knee shifting to press against Evgeni's crotch, pressing most of his weight down.

"You are treading fine line, Malenʹkiy Volk. Dangerous path to choose." He was getting less and less tolerant of this man's behaviour and he was plotting subconsciously to break him and teach him that others were stronger and more powerful and they would put him into line.

_________
Motherfucker

Little Wolf

The Lycan let out a pained snarl, writhing under the man's weight.

He tried to tug his wrists out from the man's grasp, only to find he couldn't, aiming a blow to the man's head with his elbow. Blunt teeth sank into the man's shoulder for a second time, his jaws tightening around the cloth until he felt the fabric tear and tasted blood in his mouth.

"I said, "Get. Off. Me."" he growled.

"Little dragonfly need to behave better," he murmured, stretching Evgeni's arms further above his body when he lashed out with his elbow, managing to avoid the blow to the head.

His knee slid from Ev's crotch and rested beside his hip again. His feet pressed on top of the man's legs to hold his legs in place as he pressed his hips down against the man's, grinding them slowly.

"Perhaps I should tear wings off now? Or should I keep you in jar and watch you suffocate before I do?"

A dark smirk curled Zakhar's lips.

His lip curled at the man's words.

"Maĭnata ti." he spat up at him.

He let out a whimper of relief as the knee was moved from his crotch. His eyes widened as the man began to grind on top of him, squirming, again trying to knee him in the crotch, only to find that his movements were blocked.

Attempting to yank his hands back down roughly, again he tried to hit Zakhar in the head with his elbows, growling.


(Translation: "Fuck you.")

Zakhar tutted like a man scolding a misbehaving child.

"Now, now, little dragonfly, you do not strike your master," he admonished, shifting so the man's wrists were held by just one of his hands.

His other hand caressed his cheek gently before striking him roughly.

"Disobedient dragonflies get wings torn off."

In that moment he laid claim on the man. He just couldn't help himself. This man had challenged him and he'd show him that there were better, stronger people that could rule over him.

The werewolf bared his teeth up at him again, eyes flashing. He couldn't stand being patronised.

"Fuck off."

He yelped as Zakhar struck him, recoiling backwards, his cheek stinging. Blinking in shock, he paused for a moment, letting it sink in as the pain burned over his skin.

The man had hit him. Not just pinned him down, or threatened him. He had actually hit him.

Lunging forwards, he sank his teeth into the man's jaw, writhing under the man's weight to attempt to get free.

Zakhar tutted, unaffected by the teeth breaking his skin.

"So troublesome, little dragonfly." He gripped the man's jaw, squeezing it hard to get the man to release his abused and bleeding flesh.

"I will have lot of work to do for training you."

He was violent and uncooperative. Annoying but nothing he couldn't handle. He'd break this man and he'd become just as loyal to him as Lino. But perhaps he'd let this one keep some of his fire. He enjoyed a little fighting back.

At first he resisted stubbornly, tightening his jaw further with a growl, ignoring the pain. He shook his head to attempt to shake the man's hand off, pulling the skin between his teeth roughly, a muffled snarl rumbling at the back of his throat.

The snarl turned into a whine at the pain as he resisted and reluctantly released the man's skin, glaring at him intently.

"What you mean, train me?" he questioned, not quite understanding.

"Good dragonfly." He stroked the man's cheek softly again when he released his abused skin.

It was rare a mark was left on him, even rarer when the mark was placed outside of sex. He wondered if Lino would comment on it.

"I mean as I say; you will be trained. Now, what is the name of my little dragonfly?" He supposed he should learn the name of his newest slave. He couldn't call him dragonfly all the time.

He growled again, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

"Why should I tell you mine if you won't give your name?" he snapped.

After the man overpowered him like that, he didn't trust him. He wouldn't give him any information that the man didn't give him in return. And any time the man hurt him, he would respond with double to force.

"Give me your name."

"So untrusting. It saddens me that little dragonfly won't give me information."

He almost pulled a childish pout. Almost.

Instead, a low chuckle sounded as he continued to stroke the man's tanned cheeks. "Zakhar Avdeyev." The name meant nothing. He was not a Bounty Hunter. He had no bounty on his head. He was nothing special in that aspect of life at all.

But the deep, dark, seductive purr he had introduced himself in was likely to send shivers down the man's back. His tone was slick and dangerous.

He turned his head to the side quickly. It was an odd feeling, a stranger's hand caressing his skin while he was held down and caged in like this.

It scared him. He wasn't used to being scared, as he was never normally overpowered before. But now he was. He hated the feeling. But there was a tiny part of him... just the smallest part, which was drawn to this dangerous feeling, to the excitement.

No. No, he wasn't.

"Evgeni Pavlov." he replied, eyes watching the man above him suspiciously.