Chapter Text
Lev sat on the edge of the table, his shirt open, chest gleaming under the sterile yellow of overhead lights. The air smelled faintly of alcohol wipes and ozone, and something heavier beneath it—something warm, human, electric.
Fedya adjusted the defibrillator pads with clinical precision, like this was just another test subject, just another Tuesday. But there was something hungry in the set of his jaw. Something that tightened with every inch of exposed skin.
“You're trembling,” he observed.
Lev scoffed. “I'm excited.”
“You're nervous.”
“I’m both.” His eyes flashed. “That’s the fun part, isn’t it?”
Fedya smiled then—slow, cold, delighted. “You're the worst kind of addict.”
“And you’re the worst kind of enabler.”
He didn’t argue.
The paddles made a soft, rising whine as they powered up. Fedya tested the buttons. One shock—no margin for error. His hand hovered over the controls, deliberate, reverent. Lev watched, breathing uneven, chest heaving with anticipation and restraint.
“You know this could stop your heart,” Fedya said softly.
Lev leaned in, nose almost touching his. “That's the point.”
For a moment, neither moved. The machine hummed.
Their breath mingled.
Then, "Clear.”
The jolt ripped through Lev like lightning. His back arched high off the table, tendons straining, mouth open in a silent scream that barely reached his throat. His fingers curled, spasming violently, a single sharp cry breaking through just before his body slammed back down.
The silence after was deafening. Just the beep of the monitor. The rise and fall of desperate breath.
Fedya was already at his side, eyes scanning—not for fear, but fascination. He pressed two fingers to Lev's neck, then his chest. “Your pulse is erratic.”
“Feels like it’s fluttering in my goddamn throat,” Lev groaned, voice raw. A bluish tint is starting to appear on his lips..
..along with a smirk?
“Hurts like hell.”
Fedya tilted his head, thoughtful. “Cyanosis is starting. You’re hypoxic.”
“You gonna fix it?” Lev slurred.
Fedya leaned down, lips ghosting his ear. “Not yet.”
Lev let out a low laugh, half-delirious. “You’re such a fucking psycho.”
“Says the guy who's body expression's begging for a second round.”
And despite everything—the pain, the ringing in his ears, the icy weight blooming in his chest—Lev gave a wrecked, breathless grin.
“Do it again.”