Work Text:
Valeriy has found himself doing things that aren’t part of his job lately.
Getting food for his charge isn’t part of the job description, yet here he is, on the way home– to Mitya’s home to bring him groceries, just because the scientist keeps forgetting about his own nutrition. Living with his charge isn’t part of the job description either, but he's found himself staying over more and more, just to keep him safe.
He knows it's futile. One man can't stop the Curse of Death. But he thought, perhaps naively, that maybe if he kept Mitya company, he wouldn't be so focused on Project Mistilteinn during his time off.
It's been nice, spending time with him, seeing him outside of work. Mitya might annoy him to no end (part of his charm, really), but when they're not playing their little cat and mouse game, when they're just at home, spending time together, he finds his presence to be quite… soothing. His constant chatter is like music to his ears. Mitya tells him on and on about his interests, and tries to get Valeriy’s opinion and perspective on them, despite the Major not knowing much about his field. He never judges Valeriy’s lack of knowledge for scientific things, even offering to teach him the basics. He found himself agreeing, enamored by the other’s enthusiasm. Watching him talk, seeing the passion in his eyes, his gentle yet playful way of teaching, the way his attention is focused on Valeriy. It makes his heart flutter.
Valeriy feels his face getting warm. He shouldn't let the line between charge and guard get blurred but— when faced with someone like Mitya, he just can't help it. They both know they’re crossing the line, but Mitya doesn’t seem to mind, if last night was any indication.
Mitya’s hand on his, leaning on Valeriy while they read a book together. Mitya falling asleep against him. Valeriy carrying him to bed. Mitya, half asleep, refusing to let go of Valeriy as he lays him down, nearly pulling the guard down with him.
He pushes the memories out of his mind, he doesn't want Mitya to catch him blushing and then proceed to tease him about it, especially since he's the cause.
(He loves it when Mitya teases him, but he’ll never admit it, not even to himself.)
He takes a deep breath to calm down, and knocks at Mitya’s door, he waits patiently for Mitya to respond, only for silence to greet him. A sense of foreboding makes itself known.
Calm yourself, it’s still early, perhaps he’s still asleep.
He unlocks the door with his key. The house is eerily silent, yet he forces himself to remain calm. Valeriy sets down the groceries at the kitchen counter, and goes to look for Mitya, going straight to his bedroom door, and knocks. There is no response.
He gently opens the door, hoping to see Mitya sleeping soundly, only to find his charge laying sideways on the floor, eyes wide open and devoid of light, staring at nothing.
The moment Valeriy lays his eyes on him, it feels as though the world has stopped moving, his world has stopped moving. His Mitya is on the floor, dead and unmoving.
Valeriy’s chest tightens as he rushes to kneel beside him, gently moving him so he’s laying on his back.
I failed to protect him.
Valeriy has seen death many times before, has buried some of his comrades himself, but nothing could have prepared him to see Mitya dead.
His hands shakily reach out to cradle Mitya’s face. His still-warm face. There is no response to his touch, only his dead eyes staring up at him.
He holds back the anguished cry threatening to escape him, and forces himself to be rational. This must be the Curse of Death at work. It has to be, or else Mitya won’t come back at all. He won’t come back and it would have been my fault. Because I left his side and failed to protect him.
“…Mitya?” he whispers, afraid to say more, for what is there to say? It’s not like Mitya can respond. All he can do is wait until this damned curse wears off. He doesn’t want to move away, doesn’t want to take his hands off of him, afraid that he might vanish from his sight the moment he lets go. What if Death takes him away for good this time? What then? He can’t imagine a world without Mitya, now that he has him. Everything would be worse off without him.
He thinks he might just sit here, frozen, holding onto him until he breathes once more.
Suddenly, as if the gods themselves were listening to him, Mitya moves in his hold, his dead eyes gaining a shine to them. He blearily blinks up at Valeriy, who’s still cupping his face in his hands.
“…Sarge?” he whispers, voice hoarse.
Valeriy’s breath hitches at the sound of his voice. He can’t hold back anymore, he pulls Mitya up and engulfs him in a crushing hug.
Mitya’s arms slowly wrap around Valeriy. “What’s the matter, Valera? Did you miss me that much?” he asks playfully.
In any other circumstance, Valeriy’s heart would’ve skipped a beat at the nickname. Instead, he pulls away to look Mitya in the eye. “Mitya, you were dead. Do you not remember what happened?”
Mitya’s eyes widen. He brings his hand to his forehead, a small frown on his face. “…I remember waking and getting up to write something down. I- I must’ve triggered the Curse of Death then…”
Mity gasps, his face pales as he looks at Valeriy. “Sarge, you didn’t die too, did you!?” he asks frantically.
Valeriy’s chest aches, why is Mitya worried if he died?
I should be the one dead in your place.
Valeriy looks away, suddenly ashamed to look Mitya in the eye. “No, I didn’t– Mitya, I found you dead on the floor, worry about yourself, I am fine.”
“Sarge, you’re clearly not fine, did seeing me dead really rattle you that much? You know it isn’t permanent.” says Mitya, gently coaxing Valeriy to look at him.
Why is he being so casual about this? Does he truly not care that he died again? Or is it a feeble attempt to make Valeriy feel better?
Valeriy thinks he must truly look out of it, for whatever Mitya sees on his face only softens the scientist’s expression. He smiles gently at him and brings one of Valeriy’s hands to his chest, right at his beating heart. “I’m okay, Sarge, I’m right here.” he says.
He focuses on Mitya’s breathing, on the beating of his heart. It’s a little fast, which is worrying, but it’s real.
He’s really here, he’s alive. He’s still with me. “I should’ve been here to protect you.” says Valeriy.
Mitya chuckles at that. “You really are dedicated to your job, aren’t you? I doubt even you can protect me from this.”
Valeriy hates that it’s true. That no matter what he tries, he can’t stop the curse once it kicks in. Even if he was here, it would’ve just killed him too. He’s no match for a god.
It hurts so deeply to know that he can’t protect the one he loves most.
“It isn’t just because it’s my job. Surely you must know that by now.” whispers Valeriy.
Neither of them have openly acknowledged the shift in their relationship before, that they’re more like friends now, teetering into something more.
Mitya doesn’t say anything back, he merely clings to his guard, hugging him like how Valeriy did when he woke. Valeriy takes the opportunity to lift him up, sitting down on the bed with the scientist on his lap.
They stay like that for a moment, silently holding onto each other, basking in each other’s presence. Mitya is so, so warm, he doesn’t want to let go.
Eventually, Mitya breaks the silence. “…I’m just glad you weren’t here to die with me too.” he says, bringing his hand onto Valeriy’s chest.
“…I wish I did.” says Valeriy.
“Valeriy, you can’t mean that.” says Mitya disbelievingly, a frown marring his face.
“But I do, at least then you wouldn’t have been alone when Death took you.”
Mitya gasps incredulously. “Don’t say that. I don’t want you to die, Valeriy, not even temporarily. I’ve already dragged down so many people with this curse of mine, I don’t want you to be one of them. Not again.”
“I would gladly die over and over again, if it meant keeping you safe.” Valeriy replies, with all the sincerity he can muster.
Mitya looks at him in disbelief, his expression hardening. “Then I’m ordering you as your superior, do not die for me. I won’t allow it.”
Valeriy only gives him a pained smile. “You know that’s not how it works. You can’t order me, Mitya. Besides, I’m technically not working as your guard right now. You’re off duty, and so am I.”
Mitya merely stares at him, and Valeriy knows it’s because he understands what he means to say. That he’s here because he wants to be, not out of some duty or obligation.
With surprising strength, Mitya pushes him down on the bed, straddling him, fists clenching onto the fabric of his shirt.
“Then I’m asking as your friend, Valera… Don’t die for me. Please. I don’t want to see you dead, never again. I… I don’t think I can handle it… So just live for me, okay?” pleads Mitya, his voice breaking as he does so.
Valeriy is stunned speechless. Mitya looks absolutely devastated just recounting his death. He didn’t even think of what Mitya might have felt back then, the events of the theater becoming more of a blur with each passing day. To Valeriy, it was natural that he would die before Mitya would. Did he feel the same thing Valeriy did, when he saw his corpse? Did his world stop in its tracks too?
He reaches up to cup Mitya’s cheek. “I’m sorry you had to see me like that.” he says. He won’t promise that it won’t happen again, he can’t.
Mitya’s expression goes blank. “But you won’t swear that it won’t happen again, won’t you?” he whispers.
“No… but I swear that I’ll try to live for you. I won’t stop trying to protect you. Should anything happen to me, I will do everything it takes to make it back to your side. Not even Death will be able to stop me.” says Valeriy, resolute in his conviction.
His declaration takes Mitya aback, causing his eyes to shine with un-shed tears. He reaches out to caresses Valeriy’s cheek, looking at him with determination. “Oh, Valera… Should anything happen to you again, I’ll bend the rules of life and death itself to bring you back. I’ll guide your soul out of the Ley Lines myself if I have to. I swear it.”
Warmth spreads in Valeriy’s chest at Mitya’s promise. Before he can stop himself, he grabs Mitya and flips them over, making it so that Mitya is now the one below him.
He takes hold of Mitya’s chin. “May I…?” he asks.
Mitya nods.
He leans down and kisses his scientist, sweet and slow. His lips are soft, and a little chapped. He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Mitya looks starstruck as he pulls away, cheeks flushed a beautiful red.
Then he laughs, tears finally falling from his eyes, and pulls Valeriy down to kiss him back. Valeriy has never felt so blissful in his life.
He doesn’t even care if what they swore to each other was blasphemous. Mitya was brave enough to fight Death herself, so he will be too.
Whatever happens, I’ll find my way back to him, and I won’t let you take him from me. Us mortals won’t bow down to your whims.
