| We The Living - Andrei Taganov and Pavel Syerov

| Slight sin, nothing too serious

| taganov is orange

Pavel leaned over the metal railing, the glass of champagne sparkling in his fingers. The metal was cold, a few specks of snow still clinging onto it desperately for life. He shivered slightly, adjusting so a new patch of cloth-covered skin would shiver at the iron's chill. The city sparkled underneath them with the rare sun reflecting off of the dirty puddles on the ground. Every once and a while a horse splashed it's way through the melting streets, showering walks and citizens with the dirty horse-ridden water.

Such was the scenery in Petrograd, Russia 1925.

Pavel glanced to his side at the man beside him. A cigarette balanced loosely on his lip, the smoke rising to camouflage with the wistful grey clouds that dared to near the sun. The man was war-seasoned, seeing many battles and many bodies. The scar on his eyebrow proved that. The black sweater he wore only had a few holes, mainly towards the bottom, though the coat he had dangling over the railing like a corpse said otherwise about his status. That man, was Andrei Taganov.

Pavel didn't know what he thought of Andrei.

Sometimes he wished he had the position that Andrei had in the party division of the institute. He was pretty high himself, but not as high up as he'd like to be. Yet Andrei had a strange.. affect if you will, on Pavel. He glanced more than he should, his cheeks were red more than they should, he fidgeted with the loose strings of his pockets more than he should. Many just assumed it was the cold, nervousness, wistfulness. Pavel tried to tell himself that was just what it was. Nothing more than the fear of such a powerful man. Yet that didn't explain why he called out Andrei's name while he was with Sonia.

"Do you wish to say something, Comrade Syerov?"

Pavel snapped from his trance, setting his gaze on Andrei's smokey eyes. He shuddered, but forced himself to not let his cheeks become ablaze. He looked down again, swirling the contents of the champagne before taking a drink. "No," he said simply, training his eyes on the swiveling ears of a horse below them.

Andrei studied him, judging silently. Pavel could feel his eyes on him, and it took all his willpower not to shiver, let along run from the prying gaze.

"Alright then, Syerov."

Pavel was surprised how quickly he let go of it. It seemed as if Andrei was trying to avoid something too, avoiding confrontation with some deep down emotions of his. He sighed. Such were the dreams of a hopeless romantic. Besides, Andrei already had his eyes on someone else, a blue-skirted girl who studied engineering and met a communist gaze without flinching.

Sometimes Pavel wanted to get rid of her. Send her to Siberia, or kill her himself. He was in the GPU afterall.

"Say, comrade." Andrei's voice snapped him from his thoughts. He looked up, setting the glass on the railing as he faced Andrei with a smile. He could feel the alcohol getting to his head, and that was bad around a person who invaded his thoughts every minute of the day. He nodded his head, signaling that he should continue.

Andrei sighed, looking at the smaller man in front of him. "Nevermind, Syerov. You're drunk, let me take you home." He sighed, putting his arm around his shoulders and supporting him, careful not to drop the glass on the railing. He slung his coat over his arm and headed off. A drunk communist leaning on another, such a sight to see.

Pavel giggled as Andrei pushed his way into his apartment, letting Pavel stumble inside. It was simple, for a party member like Pavel was. Nice things, but not a lot. It was Andrei's first time seeing his apartment, nodding slightly to himself in approvement. He sighed, making his way to the swaying Pavel while closing the door behind him.

He led him into what he assumed was his room, letting him stumble to the bed while he lit an oil lamp. He turned to Pavel, who had collapsed on the bed and had an arm over his eyes. The soft, spring light made its way through the window, Pavel skin reflecting off a pale color that seemed to just take Andrei's breath away. But he shook his head, letting memories of Kira flood his mind until the thought was whisked away. Though a blush was still left on his cheeks.

Andrei walked up to the bed, leaning down to help take Pavel's coat off and get him into bed. But instead, he was pulled down on top of the man, finding himself between Pavel's legs and their lips together. His eyes widened.

The whole thing sent chills racing down his spine, shivers and goosebumps rising along his body. He could feel Pavel's hands on his cheeks, a thumb caressing his cheekbone lightly. Andrei's own hands were resting on the bed on each side of Pavel, slowly making their way to his hips without the other realising it. Andrei wanted to feel disgusted, he wanted to push down this growing feeling that told him to kiss back. But he just.. couldn't.

So Andrei kissed back.

He set his hands on Pavel's hips, letting his fingers ride up under his shirt and onto to the skin underneath. He felt Pavel's arms wrap around his neck, moaning into his mouth from the small action. Andrei reveled in the sound, deciding to take a shot and worked his tongue into Pavel's mouth. This caused a few more sounds to come from his mouth, as now they were truly making out. Andrei only realised how far this had gone until he felt something brush up against his leg.

He pulled back, getting off of Pavel and the bed while simultaneously wiping his mouth from their saliva. He adjusted his pants to accommodate the tightness and hastily put on his coat. Andrei sighed, crossing a patch of grey light and made his way to the door. But, before he turned to head home he set Pavel with a glare, though somehow a few specks of lust still lie in his eyes.

"We are to never speak of this, Pavel." He growled, watching Pavel nod before he exited the apartment and closed the door behind him. And they did, never speaking about that little moment they had with each other.

But they sure as hell didn't forget.     

| Sorry it took so long to make. I usually write these things at my grandmother's house, who has a faster computer than my mom's. But, alas, I got this out to y'all, be happy.

Somehow I was able to take two characters from a story about how communism sucks and objectivism is the balm and make it into a ship story. Such is the power of fan-fiction.

Welp, enjoy I guess!

| 1157 words