Chapter Text
Valery has been outstanding with his progress. Despite the many difficulties, hundreds of harsh phone calls, and angry workers, they've managed to get farther than Boris thought. Hell, he didn't realize they'd suppress the radioactivity in the core at this rate. He had no idea what he would've done if it weren't for Valery. He values him.
Boris comes back in the trailer with great news from the miners, acting happier than usual, but Valery only looks worn out. Boris isn't sure why (or maybe exactly sure why) but seeing him with his head in his hands over the desk is heart wrenching. This is one of the most important people on the job. No, Boris is certain he is the most important. Even if he wanted to throw that damn professor out the helicopter the first day they met.
Boris found vodka in some corner of the trailer and poured Valery a glass, putting it next to his overwhelmingly annotated papers.
“I know the job is far from over, but those miners are ahead of schedule.” Boris’ voice was comforting, “They'll be done in a week, Valera.”
Valery finally lifts his face up, and it's evident he looks exhausted and sleep deprived, but in his eyes there's a glimmer of hope and gratitude. That makes his heart swell.
Boris gives him a kind smile and, with little thought, starts scratching Valery's upper back. Boris, to his surprise, heard Valery let out a long groan and his back muscles relax, his head laying down on the table instead of in his hands. Hm, he didn't realize Valery was so fond of touch.
The pleasant distraction, however, ceased when a knock was heard at the door. Boris sighed and went up to check it, to find a soldier standing in front of him.
“I apologize for disturbing you Shcherbina, but it's the miners.”
___
It seemed the harsh confrontation about the miners’ fates continued to haunt Valery. Despite this operation depending on others’ sacrifices, Valery was very sensitive towards the idea of sending people to a long painful death to save millions (and the USSR's reputation.) It was a bad flaw for the operation, but Boris both understands and realizes that's the reason why Valery was such a strong leader. Anyone else and they would've sent all the men they had with no promises.
But now Valery was doing that thing again, looking down at the ground as they walked, quiet, like he was making himself smaller.
“I could use company,” Boris breaks the silence, “I have food I can share, if you wish.”
Valery looks like he will decline the offer just for ‘convenience,’ but Valery soon nods and looks straight. “I could use a good meal right now…”
“When was the last time you ate?”
Valery's eyes widen and he calculates. “... since breakfast.”
Boris gives him that serious look. “You're eating at my place. That's an order. And come with your pajamas. You look like you're dying in that suit.”
___
The food was basic. Boris had made some beef stew, and Valery, now a bit calmer and in his pajamas, happily devoured it.
“You're a good cook, Boris. I struggle frequently with my meals.”
Boris chuckles and takes his bowl away when he's finished, “maybe sometime I could teach you.”
Valery forces a smile, but he still looks miserable and visibly stressed. Boris moves towards his back, before he gets another idea and gets up.
“Where are you going, Boris?”
“Bathroom. I'll be right back.”
Valery nods and simply waits. He comes back with a broad bristle brush in his hands, and Valery looks confused about his intentions.
“This is a piece from my shaving kit,” Boris’ voice is a gentle rumble, something that makes Valery relax, “it's technically more for barbers. It's meant to brush all the hair from your neck and shoulders when it's cut, but I found the bristles were rather soft.”
Boris then gently takes his face, where Valery squirms slightly in worried protest.
“I think you'll like how it feels.” Boris drags the brush slowly down his face, starting at his forehead to the tip of his nose. Valery goes rigid and shudders, but Boris gently shushes him and holds his face firmly.
Valery slowly melts and succumbs to Boris’ affectionate offerings, letting out soft groans and closing his eyes as the brush lovingly maps out his face. Over his cheekbones, under his ears, on his eyebrows, and towards the chin and the neck, where Boris realized pulled the most reactions out of Valery, with a wider smile, more huffs, and a few quiet giggles.
Valery was starting to doze off in Boris’ hand after each caress. The soft bristles mixed with Boris’ gentle grumbling made him sleepier by the second, leading to a heavy head and deeper breathing, bordering on snores, but those often snap Valery back into reality. He doesn't remember the last time he was this relaxed; his care was eliminating every soul-eating thought about the disaster.
“Hm, you seem very fond of this, Valera,”
Valery only mumbles and barely nods, and a hint of a smile can still be spotted by Boris. Seeing Valery so relaxed, docile, maybe a bit happy was always something that eased Boris’ heart.
After about twenty minutes more, Boris hears gentle snores from him. Valery has fallen asleep. Boris chuckles gently, before getting up and picking him up, ever so gently, and carries him back to his apartment. Boris cursed the doorknob for being difficult to turn with a sleepy Valery in his arms, but eventually he gets it and is greeted with Valery's messy hotel room. He won't judge, it fits Valery well and explains his stress.
Through the clothes and papers on the floor, Boris manages to lay Valery down on the bed, taking off his shoes and socks, and covering him with the blanket. Boris smiles and rubs his back for a bit before getting up and leaving.
“Good night, Valera.”