goncharov x andrey yet again. this one is a nicer oneshot :) no angst this time. also really short because its 4am. i need to sleep.

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Andrey headed swiftly up the steps to Goncharov's home, opening the door. It wasn't locked. Goncharov must be home, then, he thought.

The Banker hummed a tune, closed the door behind him, and headed to the kitchen to set down his gun on the counter and grab a helping of vodka. He was in the process of grabbing a flask, when he heard footsteps approaching him from behind. Andrey turned.

"Andrey!" Goncharov gasped, his eyes wide with shock and relief. Then his eyebrows furrowed in anger, although Andrey could see that it wasn't genuine. "You asshole, I thought you were dead!"

Andrey flashed him a grin. "Nope," he said with a laugh. "Nothing kills Andrey Daddano."

Goncharov scoffed and crossed his arms, but amusement still glinted in his gaze. "You are such an entitled prick."

The man smiled yet again and grabbed a flask of vodka. He took a sip, offered it to Goncharov, who took it gratefully. He set it down on the countertop and walked over to Andrey. He embraced the man, holding him close and resting his head on his neck. Andrey inhaled deeply, taking in the rich scent of Goncharov's cologne. "Don't ever do that again," Goncharov murmured sternly. "You had me worried for so long, taking a dangerous job like that."

"Mikhail-" 

"Don't," Goncharov cut him off, pulling apart ever so slightly so he could look Andrey in the eye. "I'm allowed to worry about you."

Andrey sighed dramatically, leaning into him. "I know, I know," he muttered. "But we're apart of the mafia, this is what we do." He felt Goncharov run his fingers through his wavy brown hair and then placed a kiss upon the top of Andrey's head.

"I'm not losing you again, любимый."

Andrey's heart fluttered at the nickname, no matter how many times Goncharov had used it on him. It often rolled off his tongue when loosened with liquor, but other times it came out in sweet moments like this, where nothing else in the world mattered except for them. "You won't," Andrey assured with a soft tone. "We'll never lose each other."

His hand left Andrey's hair and ran down his jaw, tracing the outlines of his face gently. Goncharov's calloused thumb caressed his cheek. Fondness softened his gruff facial features as he gazed into Andrey's half-lidded gaze. Goncharov leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips. Andrey accepted this by melting completely into him, arms draped lazily over his shoulders. Goncharov held his waist, the only thing stopping them from falling over. His lips tasted like vodka and cigarette, an intoxicating taste on Andrey's tongue. The two seperated and Goncharov gave a tender smile. 

"I love you, Mikhail," Andrey murmured, barely a breath.

"I love you too, Andrey."