Archive of Our Own

Vasily twirled his pencil around, eyeing it to make sure it was well sharpened.

He deemed it so, putting his knife away to begin his drawing.

A dull, stinging pain lingered in his cheeks, subdued, but far from gone.

The Japanese sniper's face flashed in his mind again, and he gripped his pencil harder.

He'd had countless scenarios dancing around in his head ever since he'd left the hospital, some more violent than others.

But one thing was certain, no matter how he'd get to that point, he'd need to see him from up close. Even if that meant holding his fire when a shot was perfect, he'd make sure the man stood fully before him in due time.

No subject of his drawings had gotten Vasily as frustrated as the wildcat had, and he quickly realized he was more mad that he couldn't properly capture him rather than that he'd been shot.

The realization did not disturb him as much as it should've.

He may have lost the duel, but being currently alive and breathing, in pursuit of his assailant, was proof enough that it was not over just yet.

Vasily was snapped out of his thoughts by the sound of a small thud nearby, followed by the neigh of a horse. A horse at this time, at this hour, could only mean one thing; he was not alone.

He did not panic just yet. The other party must not be aware of his presence, meaning he had the upper hand.

Vasily shouldered his rifle, doubting he'd be using it, keeping his revolver in range instead.

He moved through the snow without much of a crunch, akin to a fox keeping on its toes, giving it a natural spring in its step, moving quickly and silently.

He took cover behind a tree, approximating the horse would be a couple meters away.

He slowly peeked out to get a look, only to be met with nothing but a blanket of snow casting over the forest, the same sight he'd grown accustomed to seeing the last few months.

A speck of black quickly caught his eye, and his pulse quickened, realizing it was a body.

It was perched up against a tree, and Vasily’s eyes widened.

It couldn't be.

No.

How?

He ignored his own questions as he immediately bolted towards the man, ignoring the rational part of him telling him he should've at least scouted around in case it was a trap. However reckless, and yet, he didn't care.

He was at the sniper's side in an instant, assessing the damage.

Horse hooves prints continued on south, and Vasily could only assume the Japanese man had fallen from the horse.

He couldn't be blamed considering the state he was in. The rags he was wearing counted as anything but clothes, and the bandages on his shooting eye did not go unnoticed by Vasily. He checked his pulse, a relieved sigh escaping him as he felt the steady beat under his gloved fingers.

He picked the man up without a thought, intending on taking him to the cabin he passed by a while ago. He effortlessly threw the Japanese man over his shoulder, walking back to his camp.

Luckily, there was no snowstorm to ensure the man's demise, and Vasily optimistically believed he'd survive.

Even like this, Vasily could feel him shivering in his arms, and he instinctively held him tighter, hoping his own body heat served as a fugacious comfort. The shivering was good. It meant he was still alive.

A low grumble went past the Japanese man's lips, and Vasily's face jerked down to look at him.

"Of all people..." He spoke, dazed. Vasily squinted, barely making out the slurred, jumbled Russian. "You're worse than I thought."

Vasily tried to make sense of the words, failing to give them meaning other than an unconscious man's rambles.

"Explain." Vasily asked.

Ogata's eyes drooped closed again, his tired face remained neutral. "If it were anyone else, I'd be dead. So don't flatter yourself."

Vasily didn't react, not outwardly. His expression barely shifted as Ogata slipped back into darkness.

They'd made it back to the campfire, and Ogata was quickly stripped of his tatters. Vasily ignored the itching at his hands to grab his notebook and start sketching the man's lean body, reminding himself he could always do that when he recovered.

He'd seen countless naked bodies, the army had beaten any modesty out of him long ago. Somehow this felt different. His jaw tightened and irritation flared inside him at the way his fingers seemed to work more clumsily than usual.

The Japanese soldier had no weapon and was in a weakened state, Vasily could easily do whatever he wanted with him.

He choked on his own spit at the trail of thought, that was not what he had meant.

The fire crackled and sizzled as Vasily covered him in the spare blankets he had.

Vasily had expected countless months, if not years, of chasing after the man. And he was prepared for it.

Getting the Japanese sniper served to him on a silver platter was not something he'd foreseen, much less awaited.

His gaze flickered back and forth between the fire and the sleeping man, as if to confirm that he was not just dreaming, and the wildcat had truly ran back to him, albeit accidentally.

Despite the sniper's skill, Vasily was sure the injury on his eye would be as much of a nuisance as to any sniper. He frowned. He could no longer prove himself to him. It would not be fair.

"Water…" A thick, gravelly voice caught his attention once more, and Vasily quickly sprung to his feet to grab his water container.

Vasily crouched down next to him, bringing the liquid to his lips.

Dry lips gulped down the water like he hadn't drank any in days, and Vasily figured that must've not been so far from the truth.

He watched his adam's apple bob with every swallow. A sudden, unwelcome desire to study the anatomy of the human neck washed over him.

When he'd emptied the entire thing, Vasily pulled it back, and the man sighed, satisfied.

It didn't last long, as the sniper was adamant on using up every last bit of energy on complaining.

"Cold…"

"I know." Vasily replied, before quickly clasping his jaw shut, the scorching pain every stretch of his cheeks provided left him mostly unable to form simple sentences.

Still, he had one pressing question no oral pain would deter him from.

"Tell me your name and I'll take us to shelter." Vasily proposed.

He replied with no hesitation.

"Ogata Hyakunosuke."

Vasily perked up, feeling as if he had the upper hand even more with the knowledge of his name now in his grasp. Although, in the grand scheme of things, it didn't mean much.

It stung the slightest amount that he hadn't cared to ask for his back, but that could be blamed on the freezing temperatures his body was fighting against.

Vasily quickly packed his stuff, putting out the fire last, before lifting up Ogata again.

"There was a cabin close by, shouldn't be too long." Vasily explained, ignoring the ache in his jaw again. "Ogata." He added, unable to contain the curl of his lips.

Ogata did not reply, and they were on their way.

Another page filled, Vasily scribbled on. Ogata hadn't moved a muscle since he'd been laid down on the musty bed.

Vasily still had rations left, and he'd filled up on water on the way back, so there was no need to worry about either, as he directed his attention towards the sleeping man.

He could only make assumptions about how Ogata had gotten in the state he was in. Just how many enemies did the skilled sniper have? Were they looking for him now?

Vasily would kill anyone trying to take away his prey, he decided. Ogata would die by his hands, or none at all.

Vasily had relied on mostly using his imagination up until this point, considering Ogata's entire body was obscured by the blankets, and he was facing away from him, hence why he'd focused on mostly his facial features.

Now, however, he could try and get a better angle. Not like Ogata was going to stop him, he had been tied up with efficient knots at both his wrists and ankles.

Vasily climbed onto the bed, swinging a leg over Ogata’s body. He leaned down and slipped a hand beneath his jaw, tilting his face to the side.

He knew he was being greedy, but the warmth beneath his fingers was addictive. After so long without it, he couldn’t stop his hand from sliding lower, closing around the man’s neck.

He could squeeze. End it right there.

But there would be no sweetness in that victory. Perhaps Ogata knew it too, knew he was not in danger yet, which was why he hadn’t panicked when he’d woken in the Russian man’s arms.

Or perhaps he was delirious. Either was possible.

Vasily hadn't paid the unique position they were in any mind until when Ogata had decided to open his eye. He blinked slowly, and Vasily sat frozen, knowing jolting back would prove he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't have been.

"What are you doing?" Ogata's lips stretched into a tired grin, seemingly amused by the situation. His wide eyes betrayed him, showing a sparkle of fear.

Vasily didn't move. His frown never shifted.

The excuse came easily. Too easily.

"I was checking your eye."

"By looking at the one that's still there?" Ogata smirked, having caught Vasily in his lie.

Vasily huffed. He didn't need to explain himself to the sniper. He realized he had more questions to ask the man, and wasn't letting this moment of lucidity go to waste. He turned to a different page from his notebook, and began writing, before showing the finished product to Ogata.

'What happened to your eye? And where is the rest of your group?'

Ogata narrowed his eyes, mouthing each syllable, and Vasily found it almost endearing, before reprimanding the unruly thought.

"Haha, not telling you." Ogata smirked, before letting his head fall back onto the pillow.

Vasily frowned. Writing another message to shove into his face.

'I'll take out your other eye.'

Ogata grinned.

"But how will you have a rematch then?" He asked playfully, as if Vasily could not very well end his life in a single swift movement. "That's what you want, isn't it?"

'What I want is an answer to my question.'

"Question? You asked two, don't cut yourself short." Ogata bickered on, and Vasily simply glared. Ogata tugged subtly at his restraints, testing their strength. Vasily caught the flicker of cold realization hitting him. He wouldn't be getting out of them without something sharp to help.

Vasily remembered why he had gotten on top of the man in the first place, and he started ripping the layers off him.

Ogata was startled at first, but laid unmoving otherwise.

Vasily had wrapped him back into the white rags Ogata had been in after they had dried out of good courtesy, but they provided only the barest semblance of coverage.

Ogata's eye was trained on him as Vasily moved meticulously, bringing his notebook and pencil in his lap.

Ogata opened his mouth, before closing it back up. Vasily waited for a question that never came.

The fire provided enough warmth that Ogata was not in any danger without being coddled in blankets, but it was still undeniably cold. Vasily told himself Ogata's shivering had no effect over him, and it was simply annoying that he wasn't standing still, hence why he began writing again.

'We can go closer to the fire.'

Ogata stared at the page, before plopping down onto the mattress, ignoring the man.

Vasily frowned.

'So that's how it's gonna be.' He mused, annoyed.

He got off the bed, while Ogata watched him lazily.

Vasily slipped one arm under the Japanese man's knees, and another hooked around his waist.

"Hey." Ogata sneered, thrashing about despite his weakened state.

"I didn't save you from the cold so you would freeze to death here." Vasily said, laying Ogata on the hard rug next to the fire.

Ogata muttered something in Japanese, while Vasily walked to the other side of the room.

He had prepared a simple broth with the little food he'd had left, and fixed up a bowl before kneeling down next to Ogata.

He brought a spoonful to Ogata's lips, and the man stared, livid.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ogata spat, "What, you think you can scoop me up and make me your little pet? Do you think I'm some trophy you get to keep simply because you got lucky enough to find me after I lost my eye?"

Ogata's outburst didn't deter Vasily in the slightest, as he held the spoon in place, shoving it closer to his lips.

"Fuck you." Ogata sneered, turning his head away for good measure. He wasn't going to make it easy, even if his stomach protested in the quiet cabin.

Vasily put the spoon down into the bowl with a sigh, retreating back to the other side of the room. His movements were unhurried and certain, as he sat down at the table near the only window in the room.

He took his mask off, facing away from Ogata. Denying him the pleasure of seeing his scars.

The man began to slurp on the broth, and Ogata watched his back with a scowl on his face. The message was clear, Vasily didn't need to show power by forcing Ogata to do anything, he didn't need to emphasize who was in control. Whether Ogata ate or not, only one of them would suffer the consequences of it.

Ogata lowered his gaze to his own body, the robes he'd stolen from the hospital still hung loosely on his frame, and the fire did admittedly help to ignore the storm raging outside. He'd been lucky to have been found so soon.

He scoffed to himself. Lucky. Yeah, being in the custody of the Russian sniper who seemed to get off on his helplessness certainly wouldn't count as lucky per se.

But alas, it was the situation he was in, and he would have to deal with it for now, until he found a way to escape, obviously.

A shadow cast over him, and he looked up to see Vasily standing next to him with the bowl from earlier in his hand. The man's ice cold stare stole away the warmth of the fire for a fleeting moment, and Ogata shuddered under it.

"Changed your mind?" Vasily asked, voice barely audible above the wind's howls and fire's hissing.

Ogata weighed his options, before finally muttering, "Fine."

Vasily seemed pleased with that, and knelt back down to feed Ogata. Each spoon brought to his lips had him hesitating, as if every time he decided to swallow he was being stripped away more of his dignity.

When the bowl was half-way empty, Ogata refused to accept more, and Vasily didn't argue, simply pouring the rest back into the pot.

The night crept in slowly, as the cabin lost its light and the fire was reduced to hot embers providing subdued sparks.

Vasily wordlessly picked Ogata up again with ease, this time there was no protest from the man as he was laid down on the bed.

The tiredness hit Ogata all at once as his head fell on the pillow, his eyes closed instinctively as he tried to fall asleep. Shuffling of clothes being removed was heard to his side, and he craned his neck to look at Vasily, who was now in only his white tunic and black pants. His mask remained on.

"What? Are you ugly?" Ogata mumbled, voice rough with exhaustion.

Vasily didn't reply, and Ogata felt the bed dip as he took his place next to him.

Ogata ignored the magnetic pull Vasily's body heat radiated, instead nudging closer to the wall. The ropes dug into his wrists harshly, but he tried reminding himself he'd slept in worse conditions. It did little to soothe him.

Vasily's presence loomed to his side as a remainder of his state, trapped and helpless.

He opened his eye to stare at the wall of the cabin, trying to conjure up a plan of escape. At some point Vasily would need to leave to gather resources, that would be his safest bet of escape. He would need to find out where Vasily kept a knife first, the rest would fall into place with time.

His own breathing slowed evenly as he drifted off to sleep.

Ogata woke up to the sound of a soft rustling, and his eye snapped open to see Vasily, rifle in his lap, a handkerchief in one hand, dragging smoothly along the weapon.

Ogata blinked the sleep out of his eyes, stretching awkwardly in his bindings and the tightly fit bed. Coming to think of it, how the hell had Vasily slept in it?

Vasily must've been done cleaning his gun, as he stood up before propping the rifle's sling around his body.

He didn't say anything as he walked over to the bedside, bringing the water container nearby to Ogata. Ogata rolled his eyes, sitting up before letting Vasily bring it to his mouth. He swallowed down as much as he could, knowing Vasily would probably be gone for hours if he were to go hunting.

"I'll get us food." Vasily said certainly, walking towards the door.

"If you can manage to shoot a moving target." Ogata scoffed cruelly.

Vasily stopped, looking behind himself, Ogata caught a glimpse of the subtle crinkle at the corners of his eyes as he spoke. "Don't wander off, my wildcat."

The door was opened briefly, letting the cold air seep inside, making Ogata shiver even under the thick blankets. He stared at the door even moments after Vasily had left.

Ogata eyed the room for the hundredth time. Trailing his gaze over the wooden table and two chairs on the left of the room, the windowsill above it, the small kitchenette on the right that looked like the perfect place for rats to reside in. The cupboards must've been empty.

He couldn't escape with his bare fucking hands.

He tugged at the restraints again, rage bubbling up inside him as the rope simply dug deeper into his skin, no hope for escape in sight. Not unless he considered breaking something else instead of the cords.

Ogata hadn't known the extent of his resentment towards Vasily until the man had tried to change his bandages. Ogata had smacked a knee straight to his chest.

For a second, Vasily looked ready to skin him alive, and Ogata deemed it a better fate than whatever he'd been subjected to already. But the anger died from his eyes, and Vasily spoke, voice gruff.

"Stand still."

Whoever had come up with the phrase 'don't bite the hand that feeds you' must've had their own fair share of hostages in their custody.

Ogata didn't fight it when Vasily's hands unwrapped the gauze this time, letting the man clean the wounds with whatever solution he'd patted the cotton pads with. Every brush of calloused skin on his own had him bristling up, flinching involuntarily when it started stinging.

Vasily noticed his reaction, movements becoming deliberately careful and quick. Ogata kept his gaze on the floor, or anywhere that didn't require looking at the concentrated look Vasily wore.

When he was done sanitizing the area, he bandaged Ogata back up. But Vasily's gaze didn't leave him, lingering for longer than necessary. Ogata stared back, eye black and unreadable, refusing to be the first one to look away.

What did the man want from him? To interrogate him? To break him?

Vasily reached out a hand, gripping Ogata's jaw to tilt towards the fire's light, capturing the heat's flames as they danced along the side of his face. The sniper's skin was warm, stubble rough against the Russian's calloused palm. A thumb flickered to his bottom lip, brushing over it lightly, and Ogata didn't hesitate before attempting to bite the offending finger. Teeth ground against each other as Vasily yanked his hand back, most likely having expected it.

"My wildcat," Vasily said softly, as if Ogata had not just attempted to chop off his thumb. "Tamed in his cage."

Ogata's jaw tightened, sharp features hardening in a mask of outrage. The man he'd bested in the forest countless nights ago now dictated his every move, every breath, stripping away the autonomy of a once-soldier.

Ogata let out a shuddering breath, no longer being able to look at the Russian. If nothing else, he'd won this battle.

His gaze stirred to the window, then the door. Vasily noticed it.

"The forest isn't kinder than I am." Vasily muttered, amusement clear in his tone. The warning was clear. Even if Ogata did manage to get out of this hellish prison, his chances of survival were depressingly low.

Ogata would've hoped Vasily was done scrutinizing him for the day, but he realized that was far from true when Vasily had come back from rummaging through his bag, notebook in hand.

Ogata scoffed.

Vasily's unapologetic hands were on him again, this time trying to get Ogata to pose. As if Ogata would be his little model.

He slouched, turning his head away, moved when Vasily corrected his posture with efficient touches.

Vasily didn't force it, sighing when Ogata had yet again shifted on the mattress into the complete opposite direction Vasily had maneuvered him in. Ogata's pulse hammered, humiliation flowing through him. He refused to give the man this one.

Vasily moved away, deeming it a lost cause.

The Russian worked methodically, pencil in hand, shading and erasing as he looked up from his paper at Ogata every once in a while.

Ogata's defiance simply became Vasily's material to consume. He didn't need Ogata to submit to every touch, his resentment fed him just as much.

Days stretched into weeks which likely turned into months, Ogata had lost track of time, and he came to that cold realization when he'd been greeted with flowers blooming on the tree peeking through the window's view.

The same rope chafed his skin, the same hands clothed and bathed him, the same arm draped possessively over his waist each night, as if he'd fucking dissipate into thin air.

Vasily was cleaning his rifle yet again, and Ogata figured he'd finally found someone who bested him when it came to his gun's maintenance, the rifle got spoiled more than a lover might've.

Vasily cleared his throat, Ogata's eye trailed across the room to his figure. "Would you like to join me on my hunt today?"

Ogata was sprawled on the bed, looking at Vasily as if he'd threatened to kill him. A faint voice at the back of his mind wished he would. At least then he'd know where they stood, and not be stuck in this constant limbo of Vasily's twisted control, followed by possessiveness cradled in affection.

"Not interested." Ogata said, watching Vasily visibly deflate at the rejection. Ogata bit back a grin at the display, but the man's disappointment didn't last long, as Vasily walked to his bag, pulling out a pair of his owns leggings and shirt, then placing them down next to Ogata.

"Are you deaf? I said no." Ogata stressed, watching as Vasily pulled out his knife to snap the bindings holding his ankles together.

"I heard you." Vasily assessed, and Ogata tensed every muscle in his body to hold himself from kicking the man square in the jaw when he started dragging his pants along his own legs. He could very well do such a simple task himself, he thought bitterly.

It was infuriating how gentle he was, as if Ogata was something fragile that would break under his fingers, not the dangerous sniper that had pierced his skin.

They walked through the forest together, Vasily's clothes hung loosely on Ogata's body, and Vasily watched Ogata walk in front of him with swelling pride.

Leaves had returned on the once bare trees, snow having melted into the now damp grass, the world shamelessly alive while Ogata's life may as well have stalled.

They stopped at a small rise overlooking a clearing, a spot Ogata himself would've chosen had he been the one doing the hunting. With his gun gone, he probably wouldn't be doing that anytime soon, and the Russian would know better than to let him handle his gun with a missing eye.

Ogata watched Vasily, telling himself there was simply nothing else to do.

Vasily's breathing slowed, adjusting his stance, his grip on the rifle— and waited. Self-assured, like the world would simply line itself up for him.

It didn't take long for a shot to ring out, the sound cracking through the air, a colony of birds flew off in the distance, but Vasily's target- a rabbit- fell cleanly to the ground.

"We came all this way for a rabbit?" Ogata mocked, but Vasily remained put, reloading before lining up another shot.

Ogata watched the barrel of the gun, the angle, the way Vasily accounted for the wind without thinking much about it. Annoyingly familiar. He hated how he could predict every movement, hated how he was right.

Another rabbit dropped, and Vasily stood up.

"You shoot like you won't miss." Ogata said matter-of-factly, "Must be hard knowing you already did."

Vasily turned to look at him, lowering his rifle.

"I didn't miss." Vasily argued.

"Ah, right. You simply got outsmarted. I forgot." Ogata grinned, watching Vasily's resolve tremble.

He didn't say anything. Ogata watched, irritated the man did it out of confidence, not caution.

"So what, you brought me here to clap for you after each kill? Maybe stroke your ego a little?" Ogata sneered.

Vasily slung his rifle over his shoulder. "You watch quite intently for someone who claims to not care."

Ogata sputtered. "What else am I supposed to look at?"

Vasily shrugged. "The scenery is quite nice."

They walked to the clearing to pick up their catch before the wolves did.

When the rabbit stew was finally done, Ogata knew what was coming. Being manhandled to the table and spoonfed like a child. He took it like a champ, not even kicking the bowl off the table this time.

Ogata wondered when Vasily would get bored. The change had already come with Vasily letting him outside for the first time. It was now just a game of waiting until he got Vasily to put his guard down. He wouldn't need more than a minute of inattention to finish what he'd started in the forest at the borders of Russia.

And how long would that take? Another season passing by underneath his nose? Years of the same torturous routine?

He couldn't take it. He couldn't take the way Vasily looked at him as if he was a prize he'd won and now intended to keep for however long- for whatever reason.

"Don't you hate it?" Ogata spoke, and Vasily stopped mid-movement, arm hanging in the air, spoon in hand. "Waking up everyday to… this?"

Vasily's eyes narrowed, lips forming into a thin line. He no longer hid his face around Ogata. He should. He should be embarrassed of those ugly scars.

"You keeping me here, it can't be enough." Ogata went on, "Do you think it's gonna change anything? I'm not a sniper anymore. We can't rematch. You lost."

Vasily slowly let his arm drop, staring daggers at Ogata. Old rage flared inside him, whatever anger he had once felt resurfacing with each of Ogata's jabs.

But Vasily didn't care about a rematch. He wondered if he ever had.

"Eat." Vasily said, despite not picking the spoon back up.

Ogata almost laughed, voice gaining volume, "Eat? You drag me to some fucking hut in Russia, tie me to the bed frame every night because you're afraid I'll choose to be eaten by wolves over staying here, clothe me, bathe me, and that's all you've got as a response?"

Vasily didn't move.

Ogata kept going.

"What's the endgame here?" He pressed, "You want me to thank you? To beg? Or are you just too scared to admit you don't know what to do with me now that I'm broken?"

Vasily stood up abruptly, and Ogata figured that might've done it. He finally got through the man's self-discipline.

Instead of hitting Ogata hard enough to knock out his teeth, Vasily walked over to the kitchenette to dump the rest of the stew back into the pot. Ogata seethed in his restraints.

"Kill me." Ogata said flatly, seeing Vasily halt for a moment. "Get it over with. Stop pretending this is mercy, or whatever fucked up fantasy you've built in your head."

Vasily turned around, gaze sharp. In three long strides he was in front of Ogata, presence overbearing. Ogata's pulse pumped loudly in his ears, adrenaline coiling inside. He didn't look away. He'd cross every invisible line Vasily had drawn for him. He didn't care what punishment it brought him anymore. He craved it.

Vasily leaned forward, voice steady. "If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have woken up the first time."

Ogata felt more than he heard the truth behind his words.

"So you'll just keep me here?" Ogata asked, quieter but no less sharp than before.

"For now." Vasily said.

Ogata scowled. "You really have no fucking clue what you're doing."

Vasily stepped away, and Ogata felt like he could breathe again.

"You might not like what I do know." Vasily said, and Ogata stilled.

What was that supposed to mean?

He searched for Vasily's usual tells; anger, impatience, pride, he couldn't fit the words into anything he'd be able to unwrap and throw back.

"And what do you know?" Ogata decided to ask.

Vasily didn't answer immediately, studying Ogata as if he was the cryptic one.

"You're safe here." Vasily said finally, "Whether you like it or not."

The confusion didn't go away, it only sank deeper, unveiling more doors he wasn't sure he wanted to see the other sides of.

Vasily brought him along on his trips more often than not after the first time. That alone wrecked his plans. Now with Vasily at his side every waking and resting moment, he knew he had to take whatever sliver of chance he'd be bestowed with the moment it'd happen.

He'd gone to the nearby market again. It was a trip he seldom took, and Ogata figured it might've been to avoid leaving him alone for long. Still, the forest could only supply with so much. Vasily had secured his bindings one last time before shouldering his rifle and leaving with an emptied bag.

He would be gone for an hour or two, as he had been the other times, but even then, Ogata could not waste seconds.

When he was sure Vasily would not return (and really, he couldn't truly be sure,) he got to work.

'One eye down, a thumb will hardly make a difference.' Ogata thought with a bitter curl of humor. His wrists were tied to the headboard rail above his head, and he saw no other option considering Vasily's lack of mistakes. He never left a knife close enough for it to be detrimental.

Ogata took a deep breath, bracing himself for the agony he was about to feel.

He turned his thumb inwards towards his palm, and without hesitation, shoved. Hard.

Pain surged through him red-hot and immediate, knocking the air from his lungs. His vision narrowed, something in his hand shifted wrong, loose where it shouldn't be. A sound tore out of him before he could stop it, bitten off hard against his teeth.

He didn't have time to process the pain, with his thumb pulled tightly and unnaturally, he slipped out of the restraints with ease.

As soon as his wrists were free he stood abruptly from the bed, only to fall forward to his knees, clutching his damaged hand in the other. His thumb throbbed brutally, already red and swollen.

He moved fast and efficiently, pain would shoot up his arm when his movements were done with the assumption that he hadn't dislocated his thumb.

His hand tightened instinctively around his thumb, and with a shuddering breath, he snapped it back into place, the sharp motion making his knees buckle and another hoarse groan escape him.

He rode it out, teeth clenched as it drifted into a bearable ache, relief washing over him.

He wrapped it tightly with the gauze meant for his eye. It would have to do for now.

Ogata bolted towards the door, not looking back at the mess he'd made, the overwhelming finality of freedom triumphed against his better judgment, he hadn't bothered to even bring a weapon.

He ran, the unforgiving air of the previous winter still lingered on, sharp enough to snap him out of the pain that had him securely clenching his hand.

He was free.

By the time Vasily realized this, he would be far gone.

That- had not been the case.

He pushed through the first hour, running on sheer spite alone. But the pain coursing through his wrist resurfaced once more, blooming into his whole arm. His breathing was uneven and his knees threatened to give out under him. He knew his limits, but he could not afford staying within them this time.

His body made the decision for him, as he collapsed against the bark of a tree, chest heaving and exhaustion flowing through him.

'Just a minute.' He told himself.

The shot came without warning. The crack of a rifle split the air cleanly.

Ogata froze.

'Idiot. Why did you stop running.'

But he knew better than to assume that had been his slip-up. Vasily must've been following him for longer than he'd like to dwell upon.

He couldn't run this time. He was cornered again. His legs felt heavy and his heart hammered despite his mind being eerily clear.

Footsteps followed the shot, slow and measured. Ogata felt bile rise up in his throat, he wasn't sure if it was from his exhaustion or something else.

Ogata didn't look up to meet the face looking down at him when Vasily stopped a short distance away.

"Going somewhere?" Vasily asked.

Ogata's shoulders squared, and had he been a cat, he was sure he'd be hissing right now.

"Go fuck yourself." He spat.

Vasily stepped closer.

"So that's how." He murmured, and Ogata flickered his gaze up to see what he was rambling about. Vasily was looking at his trembling hand, letting the last pieces of the puzzle fall into place on how Ogata had managed to outsmart him yet again.

Ogata tried to calm his breathing, but the air only came out sharper and skewed. Vasily got to see it all.

"Come on, let's patch you up properly." Vasily said, his tone was almost bored, and Ogata clenched his fists in his lap.

No retort came out. Instead, he got up, the world circled around him for a moment, before he met Vasily's eyes. The man's furrowed brows indicated his slight displeasure for Ogata's escapade, but he remained unperturbed otherwise.

"And if I don't?" Ogata asked, voice coming out weaker than intended.

"Would you like to find out?"

Ogata held his ground, delaying his unavoidable fate for just long enough to remind himself he was not surrendering. When he was in front of Vasily, the man finally spoke.

"Good."

The cabin's door closed behind them, Ogata flinched as it did. He hated how much he did that recently.

Vasily didn't instantly tie Ogata back down, unnerving him more than the rope might've. Vasily guided him inside with a hand on his back. He hung his coat, tended the fire without a word.

Ogata waited. For additional restraint, a strike, any consequence for what he'd done. None of it ever came.

"You ran for longer than I expected." Vasily said at last, "But even if you hadn't stopped, where would you have gone?"

Ogata scoffed at such an asinine question, "Anywhere that isn't here."

Vasily hummed softly, like he was considering it. "To what?"

Ogata stared indignantly.

"To the border?" Vasily asked, "You were going in the wrong direction."

It didn't fucking matter. He would've found a map, would've changed directions eventually.

"You have no weapon, no papers, you're injured, missing an eye." Vasily went on, "Who would take you in?"

Ogata bristled, "I don't need-"

"You're right." Vasily cut in smoothly, "You don't need help. You don't need pity." Vasily leaned on the table, and Ogata tried backing away in his chair. "You need someone who understands you."

"And you think you're that someone?" Ogata provoked.

Vasily straightened, reminding him of their imbalance without the need for ropes.

"Yes." He continued before Ogata could reply. "What's waiting for you out there? The men who wanted to kill you wouldn't end it quickly."

Ogata swallowed, the fire cackled, filling the silence with its soothing sounds.

"You don't need anything- anyone else." Vasily said. "Stay." He continued, this time softer. It was no longer a command, and they both knew it.

Vasily didn't let the stillness stretch for long, he squatted down to kneel in front of Ogata. Expecting refusal, he grabbed Ogata's wrists to take a look at his thumb, ignoring Ogata's glower.

Vasily let out a low chuckle. "This will take months to heal properly."

His eyes were focused, and his touches lingered longer than a simple check-up would've excused.

Vasily reminisced on his childhood, a memory coming to him in a flurry. He'd scraped his knee, a common injury for boys his age, and had come sniffling to his mother to patch him up. He remembered her gentle hands and comforting shushes, a tender kiss placed on the wound to fade away the pain.

Ogata could see the calculation, the restraint, years of holding back pressing to one treacherous impulse. Vasily leaned forward, placing a soft peck on his swollen thumb.

Ogata jerked back, thumb aching as he did.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

Vasily looked up at him, he didn't look startled by Ogata's reaction, his eyes were full of warmth, expression shy but earnest. "Let me take care of you."

Ogata blinked, ready to go on his usual mantra that Vasily had kidnapped him. Vasily's hand fell to the side of Ogata's thighs, and the man sucked in a breath.

His touches were light, trailing along the fabric of his own pants on Ogata. The muscles flexed under his hold, and Ogata froze. He could see past Vasily's insistence on 'caring' for him. He could see the raw desire in his eyes.

Ogata swatted Vasily's hands away, "Stop doing that." But his own body betrayed him, feeling an unfamiliar heat pooling in his stomach, stirring something intrusive.

Vasily paused, but made his decision despite Ogata's distress, and pressed a hand over the man's clothed crotch, cupping the bludge there. Ogata's breath hitched, thighs tensing as Vasily brushed his scarred cheeks on his knees.

"Just let me." Vasily insisted. "It will be good. I promise." His vows relied on the pure want to make Ogata feel the best climax in his life.

Vasily rubbed circles with his palm, getting Ogata to involuntarily harden under his touch. The stroking grew bolder, thumb pressing over the man's slit through his pants, feeling the erection twitch under it.

Ogata gripped the table with his good hand, glaring down at Vasily, but making no move to stop him. His hips buckled forward slightly.

Vasily took his lack of rejection for approval, and began unfastening Ogata's pants with newfound glee. Ogata's cock sprang out, half-hard in the cool air. Vasily wasted no time, wrapping his hand around the base, squeezing the length.

He slid his hand along it, thumb smearing the beads of pre-cum trailing down, as Ogata grew fully erect.

Ogata let out a curse in Japanese, watching Vasily eye his cock like it was candy.

"Was this your goal all along, you Russian freak?" Ogata ridiculed.

Vasily was too busy to pay it mind, and he parted his lips to take the head into his mouth. His scars tugged awkwardly at his cheeks as he sucked. Ogata groaned lowly, grabbing a handful of the auburn hair as Vasily swallowed around his cock.

Vasily bobbed his head, cheeks hollowing as he ignored the burn in them. Nothing else mattered so long as Ogata kept making those sounds just for him.

Vasily took more in, lips stretching around the girth. Saliva dribbled down his chin as he rolled his eyes back, moaning pleasurably on the man's cock.

His hand reached up to Ogata's balls, cupping and rolling them gently, while Ogata parted his thighs to give him better access.

Ogata's mind blanked as Vasily's tongue pressed flat under his cock, and he lifted his hips to buckle up into the welcoming heat.

"Fucking brute," Ogata rasped out, "You're so fucking disgusting. All this just to get a mouth full of cock."

Vasily whimpered, the vibrations sending jolts straight to Ogata's spine, who felt himself growing closer to the edge.

With a choked sound, Ogata came with hot pulses down the Russian's throat, who took it all greedily.

Hunger sated, Vasily pulled off slowly, his scars red from the effort, his own arousal strained against his underwear, but remained untouched.

Ogata heaved, staring up at the ceiling. Vasily watched him with the same warmth from before. He could see the clear bludge in Vasily's pants, but he wasn't about to do charity work.

Ogata dragged a hand over his face, finally pulling his pants back up.

"If you restrain me after this, I'll fucking kill you."

Vasily's lips curled into a smile. "Do I need to anymore?"

Ogata looked at him as if he was crazy.

"This doesn't change anything."

Vasily hummed, "I would hope not."

Ogata got up, while Vasily remained on his knees, looking up at him.

After that, things made a lot more sense.

Actions he'd never read into now got a double meaning. When Vasily adjusted the blankets twice before going to sleep, how he portioned more food on Ogata's plate each time.

The final click came only a couple days later, when Vasily had handed him his rifle without preamble.

Ogata didn't know what to do with himself. He'd shoved it back into Vasily's arms, telling him his thumbs and missing eye would only make him embarrass himself.

Vasily didn't protest further, but it had happened anyway.

The realization settled in his chest, making his heart weigh heavier than usual.

Ogata had been needed before, measured by what he knew how to do best, rifle in hand, leaving a trail of blood behind him. Love, if it ever existed, came with conditions.

But Vasily had yet to ask for something back, if the blowjob which didn't even get him off didn't count.

Vasily didn't see him as a trophy to be kept like Ogata had initially thought, and he no longer forced Ogata to stay.

And Ogata did.

He wasn't used to this.

They walked side by side this time, having just come back from the market nearby. Their budget didn't exactly allow it, but Vasily had indulged it. He'd been saving up money since the first pelts he'd sold.

He'd taken Ogata to the gun shop he bought his supplies from, and let the Japanese man pick a rifle.

"It was about time you upgraded from that puny rifle of yours." Vasily spoke.

Ogata stopped in his tracks.

"Puny?" He parroted flatly.

"Yes?" Vasily's eyes narrowed amusedly. "You have to admit, the Arisaka has mixed reliability. Your new one is objectively better."

Ogata bit back a pout, "You don't know what you're talking about."

Vasily chuckled, knowing the insults to his rifle was the same as directly to a sniper's pride, "You weren't using it when you shot me. I know this because the bullet managed to pierce my cheeks."

Ogata shouldered him roughly, and Vasily grinned.

"Just wait until I master this one, I will make your Mosin look like a joke."

Vasily smiled under his mask, looking ahead, "We'll see."