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Twin Suns

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Kirill runs his hand over the black mark on his chest gently, smile going soft, before pulling his undershirt on. His soulmark is bigger than most others, and while it made him self conscious when he was younger, he's grown to accept the black mark that covers his left pectoral. If it's that large, he'll have a better chance of finding his soulmate, and finding someone who would complete him has always been Kirill's hope. His smile turns a bit sad as he thinks of finding that “one”, though.


For the longest, Kirill had refused to date anyone at all, completely willing to wait forever for his soulmate. After all, the media made it look perfect. Someone who was born to be your other half; someone who shared your interests and who's personality complimented yours perfectly. Someone who would always choose you, because you were made for one another.


And then Kirill started working on the police force. He was excited and ready for the job. He looked forward to taking down criminals and helping the general populous. His first case?


Domestic abuse. Between soulmates.


It had completely broken the illusion that mass media tried to sell and movies romanticised. It had opened Kirill's eyes completely, and now the thought of finding “the one” made him nervous. After three years of working in the field and countless cases of domestic violence, even child abuse, from marked pairs, Kirill began to think maybe nothing was special about the marks at all. It all had to be media hype.


After all, if the person who was destined to “complete” you could be someone like that, someone who could look you in the eye, know that you're wearing the same mark, know that your souls were forever entwined, and still raise a hand to you, why would you ever want to find them? Hundreds of Matchmakers would be out of business.


Of course, Kirill knows not all pairs end that way. When Valery and Derick had realized they had matching marks on their upper thigh, Valery had called Kirill right away. Kirill absolutely refuses to acknowledge why and how his brother had found the mark, but he couldn't be happier for him. Derick was an absolute teddy bear, and Kirill honestly believed in the Hollywood rhetoric when he saw them together. So maybe it wouldn't be bad to find his soulmate?


Either way, the thought made him slightly queasy.


He stares at the bottle of Working Grade Soul-Cover and purses his lips. It was mandatory to cover your soulmark when he worked at the police station, but when he was transferred to Seven-O, Travis had been very casual about most things, including the covering of your mark.


“We don't deal with everyday cases like the police do. We're a very specialized unit, meaning we don't face the same types or amount of people you're probably used to. Unless your mark is somewhere highly visible, and it would give you peace of mind to cover it, I don't feel that it's needed.” He had said.


So Kirill didn't bother with it most days, unless he was feeling particularly insecure or anxious about it. But, after being partnered with Doug the past few months, Kirill doesn't feel as anxious. Kirill smiles to himself, top teeth catching his bottom lip as he smiles shyly at his reflection in his locker mirror.


The subject of soulmates and marks had been broached fairly quickly after Kirill joined Seven-O after he noticed Kay's Mark on the back of her neck was the same as Deana's. Rather than approach Deana, he went with the more reasonable choice and politely asked Kay about it. The brunette had pinked but smiled shyly.


“We are soulmates, yes. It's not something we advertise, given the nature of work, but… we do live together.” Kay had finished. And Kirill felt like a fangirl, with the urge to squeal and be excited; after all, he hadn't seen many pairs in real life and especially not ones with healthy relationships after his time on the force. Doug, who was coming back from lunch early, had snorted at Kirill's excitement.


“You act like you've never seen a marked pair before. It's not that big of a deal.” Doug had stated. “Marked pairs are the same as anyone else. Nothing makes them special, except what they make of their relationship.” Kay had begrudgingly nodded.


“He's right. Deana and I don't really share much in common except for a paw print and a love for Seven-O, but that doesn't mean we don't love each other.” Her smile is blinding when she continues, “I'd like to think that we made it this far together because we worked for it, and for each other, not because we think we have to be together.”


And Kirill knew they were both right. He had seen first hand that hard work is what made a relationship work, not the fact that you share a mark. As much as people like to talk about the “special connection” between soulmates, Kirill is nearly 100% convinced that it's all made up to give the world something to hope for.


Doug had cemented that thought a couple weeks later, on patrol, when it was revealed that his parents had never found their marked soulmate, but that neither had bothered looking. After finding each other and falling in love, Doug's parents knew they didn't need anyone else, and simply grew old together.


And Kirill wants that.


More than anything, he wants someone to grow old with. Regardless of whether or not they share the same mark, Kirill wants someone to wake up with and go to sleep beside every night. Someone to watch movies with, and share life stories; someone he can trust with his life. Kirill sighs as he closes his locker and heads for the bullpit, ready to start the day.


He wishes that person could be Doug.




Kirill fidgets in his seat, cheeks still heated as he tries to focus on the rest of the conversation. But, after Travis had called everyone together for an undercover mission, everything went sideways.


He was focused, at first, until it was revealed that he and Doug would need to pretend to be a couple at a ritzy restaurant. The target is a waiter who deals anthem secretly on the job, but only to customers who know the secret phrase. The operation will require everyone to be paired off and seated in random places around the restaurant, equipped with surveillance wear and listening devices to catch both the secret phrase and the waiter doing the dealing.


Kirill's brain turns to static once he learns that he and Doug will be going on a date, together, he and Doug-


A date .


Kirill shakes his head, startling Kay who is seated behind him, and tries to focus once more.


This is not a date. This is an undercover operation, to catch a dangerous drug smuggler, not an opportunity to embarrass himself by trying to flirt, again .


Kirill nods along with the steady stream of information, doing his best to absorb it but failing miserably, when hands are suddenly gripping his shoulders. He jerks in surprise, head whipping around to find Doug frowning at him.


“Didn't you hear me? I said let's go. We need to dress nicer than this if we want to get into Alabaster.”


“Wait, we're starting now?” Kirill had squeaked as Deana ushered him from the table.


“You weren't listening at all, were you?!” She shouts. Kirill shakes his head quickly.


“Of course I was listening! I just meant that-!” He sneaks a glance at the wall clock, “it's only three! And if we're going during dinner hours-!”


“You really weren't listening!” She barks, eyes fiery. Kirill flinches. Doug drops a hand on his shoulder and guides him away from Deana to where Sophie is holding two garment bags with a smile.


“We're staggering our times, because it would look odd if we all went in at the same time but requested different sections. This way, we can also observe more for longer.” Doug explains as he passes a suit to Kirill. The younger man nods in understanding, cheeks red from embarrassment instead of soft feelings this time. Doug claps him on the shoulder, and Kirill startles but makes eye contact with Doug.


The man is wearing a comforting smile, eyes soft, and Kirill feels the tension in his shoulders ease.


“Don't mind it. Everyone gets distracted when Travis drones on for so long. Just make sure you stay focused on the mission at hand.” Doug says. And Kirill's heart gives an extra thump as he nods and rushes to the changing room.


He's embarrassed at being caught not paying attention, but he can't stop the smile at being comforted by Doug. He sighs as he closes the door behind him and presses his forehead against the cold metal. He's really got it bad for Doug.




Let it be known that Kirill has zero dating experience.


And he tells Doug as much while they're waiting at the stop light on the way to the restaurant. He's nervous, considering he's never really been on a date, and he's not sure how to act, but he doesn't want Doug to doubt his skills as an agent.


“Doug, I have to be honest…” he starts, fingers tugging at the hem of his white button down. He feels Doug's eyes on him and swallows, trying to shoot for casual instead of bumbling virgin. “I'm not really sure how to act in this situation.”


Doug hums as he shifts gears and pulls away from the red light. “There's not much to it, really. We're supposed to be a couple, so just do what you would with anyone else you've gone out with.”


Doug is just so casual about it all, and Kirill nearly bites his tongue when he nods because, sure, totally, he can do that. He's never been on a date before, but he can totally pull it off.


“Right.” He breathes as he rubs a hand over his face. Doug shoots him an odd look but doesn't question the younger man as they pull into the parking lot. It's only 3:45 now, but there's already a crowd, and Kirill is really glad Seven-O is paying for this meal because he's not sure he'd be able to pay rent after eating here by the look of the chandelier outside .


Doug pulls up to the valet stand and exits the car seamlessly, looking like the hero in a spy movie. Kirill's mouth goes a bit dry as he watches Doug smooth his hair back, the deep maroon shirt tightening around his shoulder blades and he makes a mental note to thank Sophie for her amazing fashion sense.


The first thought he had comes back around and slaps Kirill in the face, causing him to suck in a breath as he watches Doug round the front of the car. A movie. He had seen every overly cliche romance movie on the market, some more than once. All he had to do was be one of the heroines!


The door opening on his right brings his attention back to the present and he flushes when he realizes Doug has his hand waiting for him. Kirill chastises himself but quickly grips Doug's hand and allows himself to be pulled from the car.


‘Get it together, Kirill!’  he thinks to himself. Doug gives him a reassuring smile before tucking Kirill's hand into the bend of his elbow and striding for the entrance, looking every bit as confident as any other highballing patron here. Kirill bites his bottom lip, trying to steel his nerves, and grips Doug's arm just a bit tighter.


If this is the only chance he has to date Doug, he's going to make it worth it, fake or not.




There interior has even more grandeur than the exterior, and Kirill's breath catches at the sight of the marble floors and shimmering crystal chandeliers. Doug gives a low whistle as Kirill breathes out a soft “whoa”.


“Are you sure we're still in Lisvaletta?” Kirill breathes. Doug laughs, smile growing as they pause in front of the maitre d. The woman sets her pen down and gives the pair a business smile.


“Good evening, gentleman. Do you have a reservation?”


“Under Doug Billingham, party of two.” The older man sounds like a natural, and Kirill wonders if this is actually Doug's first time at a fancy restaurant or not. The woman glances at her notebook before giving a small nod and stepping away, gesturing for the pair to follow her.


“Right this way, Sirs.”


They're led to a table in the back, near the windows, and Doug dutifully pulls out Kirill's chair for him before sitting in his own. A waiter is quick to fill other water glasses and deliver their menus before promising to return soon. For a moment, it feels like a real date.


He and Doug, dressed in their best, sitting at a small table in a nice restaurant, alone . He smiles over the rim of his water glass at Doug, who is staring at his menu, and nearly chokes when Dr. Apple's voice fills his ear.


“Can you both hear me okay?”


Kirill coughs, hand on his chest, and scoots back from the table a couple inches. A red cloth napkin is being held in front of him and he takes it gratefully, only to look up into the grinning face of his partner. Kirill frowns as he wipes his mouth; the cheeky bastard.


“Good, it seems like everything's working properly.” The doctor continues. “Since we don't have much to go on right now, I'd like for you two to get as much information as you can, without being obvious. If you can get one of those tabs I sent with you onto the waiter, I'll be able to hear conversations all around the restaurant and anything in the kitchen or staff room.”


Doug gives a thumbs up, knowing Dr. Apple can clearly see it, and continues perusing the menu.


“So what sounds good today, Kitten?” he starts, voice at a normal, conversational volume. Kirill blinks. And again. Doug is talking to him , calling him Kitten.


Oh, he likes that.


His lips curl into a smile as he quickly opens the menu and scans the options. His eyes widen at the prices and he slaps the laminated cover shut.


Bread .” He huffs. “Bread and water sound delicious at these prices.” Doug laughs, pearly white teeth gleaming as he grins.


“Don't be shy. Order whatever you want today; it's a special occasion.” The older man winks and Kirill remembers the credit card Travis had slipped to Doug before they left the office. Speaking of Travis-


“Oi, oi. I know the office is paying for it, but you don't need to eat like a billionaire today!” Comes their boss’ voice. Kirill grins as he skims the menu again.


“Hmm, you're right… the lobster actually sounds delicious.” Kirill notes. He has to bite both lips to prevent the laugh bubbling up at the sound of Travis' groan of despair. Doug's grin doesn't let up as he nods.


“Then order it. Order ten, even.”


“No!” Travis’ horrified shout comes, followed by a rough “Shut up!! You're gonna give them away!” That Kirill knows is Deana. He covers his mouth to laugh into his palm as Doug fights the urge to do the same.




They both jerk to attention as a young man, looking around Kirill's age, stops at their table. His black hair is slicked back, brown eyes bright, and if Kirill didn't already know for a fact that Doug's were much prettier in the sunlight he might have been taken with them. The man smiles politely, pen poised over his notepad to take their order.


“I apologise for the wait, we were in the middle of switching shifts. My name is Thomas; what can I get for you today?”


“I'll have the sirloin steak, medium rare; mixed vegetables on the side.” Doug closes his menu and passes it to the younger man who nods and jots down a quick note. Kirill hums as he reads over the menu, giving Doug a moment to ready one of the small black bugs Dr. Apple had sent with them.


“I'm not sure, really… This is my first time here. What would you recommend?” Kirill asks, a flirty smile curling his lips. The waiter pauses for a moment, lips pursed in thought before leaning a bit closer to Kirill to glance at the menu. Kirill helpfully angles the menu towards the man and hums. “I don't really eat red meat though. It's not good for your digestion. Maybe something with chicken? Oh, or seafood??”


Kirill catches Doug's eye and gives a barely noticeable nod towards the waiter. The older man reaches to pick up his phone off the table but fumbles it, the small device falling to the floor. Doug bends over in his seat to grab the phone and quickly sticks the device into the edge of the waiter's apron.


When he sits back up, phone in hand, he nods to Kirill, who is still hemming and hawing over the food choices. Kirill smiles again and closes the menu before passing it to the waiter.


“You know, the parmesan shrimp pasta sounds amazing. I think I'll go with that.” The man nods and makes a note of their meals before assuring them he'd return soon with their bread rolls. The pair give a relieved exhale when the man flits off to put in their orders.


“Good job! The bug is in place and working fine. We'll be monitoring the conversation around you now, so just act natural and take your time. Boxer and Robot have a reservation for 6:30, so if you can hold out until then, it'll be smooth sailing.” Travis’ voice is in their ears again and Kirill allows himself a moment to pay himself on the back, even though he really hasn't done much. He glances at Doug, lips curling into a mischievous smile.


“So, how was work today, Darling?” He begins, propping his elbow on the table and dropping his chin into the palm of his hand. He can hear Deana snort through the receiver but he ignores it in favor of watching Doug’s reaction. The man hardly seems fazed as he makes himself comfortable, eyes never leaving Kirill's.


“Mm, just as boring as any other day. You know how boring office work can be. And you? How was your day?” Doug counters. Kirill shrugs one shoulder casually.


“Boring. You know being home all day is boring if there's no one there to spend it with. It's like, why am I bothering to put on clothes if I'm home alone, right?” He jokes. Something flickers in Doug's gaze but before Kirill has time to figure it out, a small basket of buttery bread rolls is being set between them.


Kirill doesn't realize how hungry he is until the smell hits him, but suddenly he's starving. He politely thanks the server before they leave and then pulls one of the rolls out for himself.


The first bite has him groaning around the mouthful. It's crisp on the outside, but hot and fluffy inside, and just gently brushed with butter. Kirill practically inhales the first one before reaching in for a second. Once the second one is gone, he pauses to lick the butter off of his fingers and notices that Doug hasn't touched any of the rolls.


“Da- uh, Doug? You're not going to eat?” He asks before looking up and meeting Doug's gaze. When he does, Kirill feels his heart skip a beat. The other man is staring at him, something dark in his eyes. Kirill swallows, mouth suddenly dry, and sips his glass of ice water like a lifeline. Doug couldn't possibly..?


“Here we are!” The cheerful voice of Thomas the waiter snaps him out of it and Kirill looks up to find the young man placing a large plate in front of Doug before sliding a similarly sized plate in front of Kirill.


“Enjoy your meal!”


And they do.


This is the best pasta Kirill can ever remember having, and for twenty bucks a plate it better be, he thinks. There are chunks of shrimp covered in flecks of garlic and parmesan cheese, coated in a thick white sauce that Kirill can't get enough of. Doug must feel the same about his stake, because even though they take pauses between bites to chat about anything and everything, the food is still gone in record time.


“I don't have enough footage yet, and team two won't be arriving for at least another twenty minutes. I need you two to stall.” Dr. Apple says as their plates are being taken away.


“How?” Doug asks softly.


“Order dessert and eat slowly?” He suggests. “Also, I'm not really getting much from the bug, other than the fact you should definitely not eat any food that Aldrich brings you, because he didn't wash his hands and that's disgusting-”


“Get back on track, Apple!” Deana sighs. The doctor clears his throat and Kirill hears a few keys being clicked.


“Right. Well, the ETA for team two is still close to twenty minutes, so if you order a dessert, that should cover it. And if one of you could find a reason to walk through the restaurant and maybe attach another bug somewhere else, that would be fantastic.”


“I hope everything was delicious!” Thomas appears at the edge of the table, smile as polite as ever. “Is there any way I could interest you in a dessert?”


“Actually, yes. I'd love dessert.” Kirill pipes up.


“Excellent! I'll bring a menu!” Thomas scurries off to retrieve a menu and Doug pushes to his feet.


“I'll run to the restroom and be right back. Order whatever you want, Kitten.” The older man winks before turning and heading off to the restrooms. Kirill inhales deeply before letting it out slowly, trying to calm his nerves.


Dinner is almost over, and then he'll have to give all this up again. He'll have to go back to pretending he doesn't want to hear Doug call him pet names and hold his hand while they walk. Kirill feels like maybe this has been a mistake. Now that he knows what it could have been like, he really wishes he had never agreed to this. Now be has to go back to normal and pretend like he's not dying for Doug to kiss him.


“He's a very handsome man.” Thomas says above him, smile friendly as he passes the menu over. “He must attract a lot of attention.” Kirill laughs awkwardly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck as he skims the small dessert menu.


“Yeah, he really does. I always have to keep my eye on him.” Kirill jokes.


‘Just my luck. Of course he would be attracted to Doug.’ Kirill thinks bitterly. Thomas hums.


“If you ask me, he should be the one keeping a better watch.” Thomas comments nonchalantly. Kirill's head whips around to stare at the man, eyes wide.


“Excuse me?”


“What I mean is,” Thomas pulls a slip of paper from his pocket and slides it across the table with a sly smile, “maybe he should be paying you more attention.” Kirill swallows, unsure of what exactly is happening. Has their cover been blown?? It doesn't sound like it, but maybe-


“You shouldn't have to feel insecure in your relationship. I would never make you feel like that.” Thomas says. When he releases the paper, Kirill realizes there's a phone number on it. His eyes widen even further; the guy is hitting on him??


He hears Deana's choked squawk through the receiver and Kay's frantic shushing, but Kirill can't find words. His mouth flaps a couple times as he stares at the server, trying to think of something to say. The server seems to think it's a good silence, because he gives a satisfied smile and picks his pen up again, preparing to jot down the dessert order, and Kirill can't believe he's able to jump back and forth from professional to scuzzball and back that fast.


“Let me know if you ever need me to comfort you.” Thomas purrs with a wink.


“He won't.” Comes a deep voice from behind. Kirill and Thomas both jump, hearts racing, as Doug rounds the table. He slaps a wad of cash on the table and jerks Kirill out of the chair by his forearm and begins dragging him towards the exit, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.


Over the sound of his chair hitting the floor, Kirill hears Deana's shout of “oh damn!” and then he's ignoring everything as he tries to catch his footing. Doug is striding quickly out the door, shiny black shoes making a loud noise in the now silent restaurant as Kirill stumbles behind him, face flushed red with embarrassment and shame.


When they make it into the front entry, Kirill notices Max decked in a formal suit and Yuri looking as elegant as ever on her arm. The two women barely spare them a glance as Doug practically drags him out the front door, and while he understands they're on a mission, it still stings.


Doug drops his arm once they're out the door and storms towards the valet, nearly breaking the wooden stand as he slams the parking ticket on the surface. Kirill staggers for a moment, right hand coming up to rub at his left forearm where Doug had manhandled him. He's pretty sure there's going to be a bruise later, and his embarrassment is quickly turning to anger.


“Ah… W-well done, boys.” Travis’ voice cuts through the fog in his head and Kirill frowns at Doug's back. “Boxer and Robot will take over now. Proceed to phase two.”


There's a small click, and Kirill knows they're alone for now. He storms up to Doug, blue eyes blazing.


“What the hell was that about?!” He demands. Doug clenches his jaw and looks away. Before Kirill can make more demands, the car is quickly pulling up to the curb and Doug is striding around the front of the car before the valet has even managed to open the door. Kirill frowns darkly and slides into the passenger seat. Doug doesn't even wait until he's fastened his seatbelt before gunning the car and sliding swiftly into the flow of traffic.


“Watch it!! You almost hit that car! I'm not even buckled in yet!!” Kirill shouts, trying frantically to fasten the gray belt at his hip. Doug ignores his protests and drifts around a corner, earning more horn honks, before coming to a stop in the alley directly behind the restaurant. The car jerks to a stop and Doug turns off the motor as Kirill braces his hands on the dashboard, breathing heavily.


“Doug Billingham!” Kirill shouts, “If you don't tell me what your problem is right now I swear on to God I-”


Kirill is cut off by a pair of lips crashing against his own, two hands cupping his cheeks and roughly tipping his head back to give Doug room to ravage his mouth. Kirill had only had one kiss before, when he was on the police force and drunk after a guys night with some of the other officers. He's not even sure he remembers which officer he kissed, but it was nothing like this.


Doug's lips are soft and full, his mouth hot over his own. Doug's tongue is sweeping over his soft palate and Kirill shivers, let's his body go slack. His hands make fists in Doug's maroon shirt, twisting the fabric and clinging to it like his life depends on it. Doug eventually pulls away, breathing just as heavily as Kirill and eyes lidded.


“That. That was my problem.” He husks. Kirill blinks, brain absolutely melted.


“I-I- don't. I don't understand?” Kirill stammers. Doug drops back into his seat, exhaling heavily as he drags a hand through his hair.


“That fucking waiter.” He grumbles, “What kind of asshole tries to pick up someone else's date?”


“He was… definitely skeevy.” Kirill agrees, brain slowly coming back online, “But I think I'm missing something…”


Doug rolls his eyes as he pops open the top two buttons on his shirt.


“You're oblivious, so of course you are.” Before Kirill can defend himself, Doug turns his head to meet Kirill's bright blue eyes. “Let's go out together. On dates. I like you, Kirill.”


Kirill's heart stops- and then rapidly starts again. Doug is asking him on a date. Doug is confessing his feelings for him-


Doug is grinning at him, and Kirill knows he must look like an idiot, gaping like a fish, cheeks flushed-


And then he catches a glimpse of Doug's bare chest. Of course the older man is going without undershirt, but that's not what catches Kirill's eye. It's the black sweeping tendrils he can see coming from Doug's left pectoral. He would know them anywhere.


After all, he sees them in the mirror every day.


His throat clicks when he swallows, and Doug's cheeky grin slides off his face. Kirill's bottom lip is trembling with barely concealed emotion and Doug's brow creases in concern. His right hand comes up to cup Kirill's cheek.


“Hey. What happened?” He asks softly. Kirill swallows around the lump in his throat and leans further into Doug's touch. His smile is watery and full of emotion.


“You're mine.” Kirill says, voice full of wonder. “I had hoped, but I didn't-” his breath wooshes out in a heavy exhale as he cups Doug's hand where it presses against his cheek. “I didn't expect this.”


Doug smiles, a relieved sigh escaping him.


“Well, yeah. I'm offering to be yours, if that means you'll be mine too. It's not that unbelievable.” He says. Kirill pauses and realizes that Doug doesn't understand the full weight of this situation yet. Doug doesn't know they're soulmates yet.


“Wait, that's not exactly-”


“Veteran, Buzz-Cut! Boxer and Robot have identified the potential suspect! They've initiated contact and the suspect is heading for the front entrance! Go! Go!”


The car is started and in gear before Travis can finish what he's saying and Doug is speeding towards the front of the alley. Kirill grips the dashboard and the door armrest and grits his teeth.


Looks like this conversation would need to wait until they were back at the office.




Having a conversation is the furthest thing from Kirill's mind as Doug pins him against the front door. Doug's hands slide from his waist to the crease where thighs meet asscheek and he grabs. Kirill tightens his grip on Doug's shoulders as he let's Doug lift and pin him against the wall. And if the knowledge that Doug can pick him up and do ravage him at the same time doesn't get him hard, he doesn't know what does.


Their lips have been sealed since they reached Doug's floor, only parting for brief moments to suck in a quick breath before connecting again. Doug knows he's going to have to have some complaints from the neighbors because of their blind stumbling into walls and Kirill's high pitched groans and whines, but he couldn't care less at this moment.


They finally pull away for a breath of air and Doug is having trouble catching his breath as he takes in the vision that Kirill makes. His lavender hair is mused from Doug's fingers, his cheeks flushed pinker than his kiss-bitten lips. Kirill's chest is heaving as he tries to catch his breath, eyelids half mast over his shimmering blue eyes. The setting sun is painting Kirill's pale skin in his of pink and orange, giving him an ethereal glow. Doug thought it was impossible for the younger man to look any more attractive in the outfit Sophie picked for him, but he was quickly being proved wrong.


Kirill's fingers sliding down his chest, popping open the buttons on his shirt, bring him back to the present. Kirill's legs drop from his waist, face creased in concentration. Doug's hands slide back up to rest on the slim hips in front of him as Kirill opens the last button and pushes the shirt open. Doug let's it slide down his shoulders to pool around his feet, making a mental note to wash them before he returned them tomorrow.


Kirill steps closer, right hand coming up to trace the edges of the black, swirling sun that encompasses his right pectoral. Doug's soulmark has never meant as much to him as it has to some people. He knew there was someone out there who shared his mark, but he was never hell bent on finding them. If he did, great. If he didn't, then maybe he'd at least find someone who loved him even without sharing their marks. But, it occurs to him, as he watches Kirill stare at his chest with reverent eyes, that he never asked Kirill how he feels about soulmates and soulmarks. Does it make Kirill uncomfortable? His mark is larger than others, for sure. He wouldn't be able to cover it easily unless he constantly wore a shirt or some kind of cover up.


He brings a hand up to wrap around Kirill's still roaming fingers. The slighter man pauses and looks up to meet Doug's brown eyes.


“Does it bother you?” Doug asks softly. Kirill's face splits into a grin as he tugs his hand away and quickly undoes his own shirt before pulling off his white undershirt. Doug sucks in a breath, heart hammering in his chest. That's his mark.


“That's… you're-”


“I'm your soulmate!” Kirill laughs, eyes looking a little wet. And Doug gets it. Kirill must have known earlier that they were soulmates. Doug can't stop the small laugh that bubbles out of him as he cups Kirill's cheeks and pulls him in for another kiss.


He should have known Kirill was more than just another person. Kirill had always kept him on his toes, and complimented him completely. Kirill was definitely made for him.


They alternate between kissing and laughing breathlessly into each other's mouths as they stumble to the bed, leaving a trail of clothes behind them before Kirill is flopping heavily into the plush comforter on his back and Doug is kneeling over him. Doug runs calloused fingers over the soulmark on Kirill's chest, smile widening when he feels Kirill's rabbiting pulse.


Doug leans down to press butterfly kisses across the darkened patch, trailing down slowly, over his ribcage and abdomen, before skipping over the obvious erection bobbing before him and starting again on Kirill's upper thigh. Kirill whines and cants his hips, but Doug just gives a breathy laugh before kissing his way to Kirill's knee and switching legs. On the left side, Doug begins sucking bruises into the sensitive skin of Kirill's thighs and hips, causing the younger man to groan and wriggle beneath Doug's roaming hands.


He nips and sucks his way back up to Kirill's lips and Kirill fists his hands in Doug's hair as they twist their tongues together. His cock throbs, a small blurt of precum dripping against Kirill's abdomen where his cock rests has Doug shivering. As much as he wants to feel Kirill around him, he's not sure how long he'll last.


He presses his hips forward as he bites and sucks against the skin of Kirill's neck, grinding their cocks together and dragging a whine from Kirill. The younger man throws his head back as he tightens his fist in Doug's hair, holding him in place.


“Doug, please! I can't-!” He whimpers, hips rutting in time with Doug's. “Touch me!” He groans. Doug pulls back a bit to bring his right hand up to his mouth and spit in it. Kirill is too far gone to be disgusted, especially when Doug's lips brush the shell of his ear.


“This is gonna be fast and dirty, because you look too good like this.” He breathes, hot and damp into Kirill's ear. His hand fists around both of them, and Kirill knows it's going to be over too fast. Doug seals their lips again as they rut into his hand together, but they break apart fairly quickly to pant into one another's mouths. Kirill's eyes are bright in the fading light, and Doug loves watching Kirill lose it. The younger man arches sharply, hands clenching tight in the pillow case beneath his head as he wails in ecstasy.


“Doug! Doug!”


Doug groans into the hollow of Kirill's neck as the warm wetness seeps through his fingers and slicks the way even better. He keeps working his hand, milking Kirill through it and nearing the edge, until Kirill groans again, fingers sliding through Doug's unruly hair.


“C'mon, Doug. Want you to come for me, mark me up. I'm yours, aren't I?” He pants. And that does it for Doug; he's hunching over Kirill's form, lip trapped between his teeth as he comes all over Kirill's abdomen, adding to the already sticky mess.


Doug drops onto his side on Kirill's left and tries to catch his breath. Kirill turns onto his side as well and drapes his right leg over Doug's hip. Doug's hand settles on Kirill's upper thigh as he gives the man a soft smile. Kirill returns it as he brings his hand up to trace the soulmark on Doug's chest once again.


“I still can't believe it… We're soulmates .” Kirill whispers into the silence. Doug's right hand comes up to wrap around Kirill's and press it closer, so Kirill can feel the pounding of his heart.


“We're not just soulmates because of what's out here. It's what's inside here that matters most.” He explains. Kirill's smile widens, cheeks going even more pink, as he buries his head in Doug's chest.