Aleksandr Voinov

“Men kill you, but women eviscerate you first.”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t shoot you,” Stefano murmured. Low, intimate, just between them. “Fun . . . would be over too fast?”

“… and then showed Owen the reservation. Four people. “But we’re only two,” Owen said. “Yeah, but my ego needs more space than that.”

“I’ve never woken to another’s body in the same bed, not since I was a child. There is something about it that makes waking up alone seem unnatural. Man is not meant to be alone, yet men like us (or maybe men like me) appear to be lonelier than others.”

“A gentle, warm, sweet pain spreads through my chest at those words.”

“I've only ever really been afraid of the fear, but right now, I fear nothing.”

“I sit, smoking, my head against the cool comfort of the fighter plane's wheel, its wing shielding but never embracing me. I'm a cold nestling tonight.”

“I tried that too, you know. After ... my family was murdered, and I was waiting for justice, I tried to hide inside a bottle. But some men, Tony, [..] are not small enough to fit into a bottle.”

“The savagery of the picture strange and alluring, Frank smeared with blood and absolutely at ease. Barbarian, primitive, visceral; if Tony had been given to myth-making, he would have wondered if there could be any more frightening god than one who was simultaneously provider and destroyer.”

“He was doing Tony’s dirty work, in a way—like Tony had done his in New York. One hand washing the other, neither of them getting clean.”

“You want the truth? I’ve been fucked and betrayed often enough to not trust anybody. And that includes you.” Frank shrugged. “Don’t take it personal.”“Join the club. We meet Tuesdays. We never share the location with each other, and we show up armed.”

“The past would always be part of the present, but at least that was true for both sides: the good and the bad.”

“Lately, the thought of tomorrow is like the thought of a hundred years into the future. Who can imagine that Germany will still exist?”

“Love can be like a commanding officer. It's unfair, random, cruel, but it gets you through the war, somehow, gets you where you have to be. (Vadim)”

“I'm a... seven-figure base salary, two digit million bonus a year asset manager..." Ghislain smiled, tiredly. "And you call me a 'pet?'"Emil laughed softly and tucked a lock of hair behind Ghislain's ear, as if he would a child, or a pet. "My dear, I am a son of the Dalca family and I just beat you until you were red, then fucked you. Is there another term you prefer?”

“Silvio said with a fond smile. "That was when I knew you meant it.""Meant what?""That you care about me." Silvio took the helmet again and stared at it like a postmodern Hamlet. "Franco told you about Toppolino. You remembered. I knew you cared about me.""Of course I do. I love you, Silvio." He didn't cringe inwardly when Silvio's answer wasn't the one his wife gave him immediately. Silvio wasn't good at this, and he accepted it.Silvio smiled and turned toward the door. "Same thing.”

“…So, how did you figure out that you were attracted to each other?” “Oh,” Dan laughed suddenly, a single dry sound, “that was easy. Vadim just shot me in the shoulder.” Duncan’s expression turned almost comical. “I think we give the saying ‘love hurts’ a completely new dimension,” said Vadim, laughing.”

“I don’t want to be one of many stations you pass through.” Paused, “I want to be the central station.” He fell silent.”

“I think it sometimes takes me a while, but I end up making good decisions at some point. Pretty much when I have exhausted all other options.”

“The motherfucker really finds a way to say something very simple in a very complicated way,” murmured Jean near Dan’s ear. “How many words does it take him to say ‘I love you’?” “None.” Dan murmured, smiling. “We’re long beyond that.”

“Described as a "workaholic speed-writing freak" by fellow writers, a "creative writing class drill sergeant" by his writing 'padawans', Voinov is a self-confessed geek and has enlarged his days by 12 secret hours in return for the sacrifice of ten albino virgin pygmy hippos.”

“All men die, Kendras. Better get used to it. And then fight until the end, with every breath, every heartbeat, every single, last thought.”

“He could sense Kshar underneath, and he knew he'd be able to sense him in whatever body. Unchanged, genuinely him.”

“He understood it then. The potential, the utter, unbelievable freedom to be whoever existed underneath his skin.”

“You’re with me,” Dan murmured against Vadim’s lips. “In my thoughts, my heart, my mind, no matter what I am doing. I goddamned need you, and I want you—always.”

“No time for books, no patience. What good would they do? They don’t tell you how to survive.” “No, they don’t do that. They are reason, not tool.” Vadim smirked. “They hold more truth than Pravda. Politburo can’t lie in Pushkin. Pushkin was there before we became Soviets. It means…if we have past, we have future.” (…) “At least I know that there are many truths. It’s about learning to think different thoughts. Know things that you never felt. You could know what being rich feels like, or being in love, without ever getting real feeling.”

“… I agree with two things: the steppe is wide—even though I’ve never been there, and the mountains, fuck, yes, the mountains are a thing for themselves. They eat you up, swallow you whole, digest and churn around until their loneliness spits you back out again and you think that nothing else matters. Just them, and that tiny handful of life that’s your own. Fucking insignificant. Nothing, no one, barely remembered, except perhaps for a moment of recognition in a goddamned teahouse.” He shut up, suddenly, had said too much. Vadim flashed a smile. “You’re my favourite enemy, too. Fucking messy Brit.”

“You’re seriously in love, you know that? It’s a great feeling, unless it hurts like a bitch.”

“When it got really bad, when nothing else got me through, I was thinking of you. How you tilt your head when you laugh; the way you eat your cereal really fast so that it doesn’t go soggy; how you squint your eyes and scrunch up your face into a grimace, every time anyone mentions eggs.” Hooch dropped his voice even more, until Matt had to lean closer to hear the whisper. “Your shit-eating grin when you wave your ass into my face, telling me to fuck you. The sound you make when you cum, going straight to my cock and blowing my mind. The smell of your sweat right after sex ..." Hooch paused, pulling in a breath. "And when I wasn't sure if I could make it through another hour, then I thought of your face that looks so damned young when you're asleep, and I remembered how you sometimes say my name, and how the sound of your voice makes me ache inside.”Hooch fell silent and Matt stared at him. Wide-eyed, frozen in shock. Insides churning, a pain he hadn't known before, travelling from his heart throughout his body, and it felt so fucking good. Understanding with every fibre of his being what Hooch had said in too many words. More than he’d ever used before, and without those three simple ones that would have sufficed.”

“Half of love is restraint. Patience and respect. Don’t waste your time on the unworthy.”

“Knighthood. Was he even worthy? Just a little while ago, he’d have answered yes without a doubt, but now, facing the cross and his own desires, he wasn’t so sure. Courage, loyalty, obedience, faith. If even a man like Ulric could act against those virtues, then they were not something one possessed, but something to be constantly guarded and reclaimed.”

“It was easier being strong when another man was strong enough to be weak.”

“Hatred had blossomed from the vine of contempt in his heart, flowers of dark, grim splendor.”

“Aye, that’s me. Rough tough squaddie with the intellectual depth of a shallow baby bath and the educational background of a hedgerow. Complicated? Yeah, right.” Dan laughed.Vadim laughed, too. “Sorry, but that just about nails it.” He grew more serious and whispered. “But you also have the heart of a tiger and the vastness of a mountain.”

“One touch from you...,” water coated his lips, gathered in thick drops on his dark lashes, “makes me feel more than a whole goddamned orgy.”

“If I don’t wear anything, I’d probably make the food go off, and the children run away screaming. What with all the scars and all. I’m not what one could call particularly pretty.” Unlike you, Vadim, and your goddamned perfection, except for a word cut in blood and flesh.Vadim shook his head, already retreating towards the open door. “'Pretty' is different,” he murmured. “'Pretty' has no scars. You are... Jaw muscles tensed again. “Like the morning sky in Afghanistan. Not ‘pretty’. Word’s ‘breathtaking’.”

“I thought I was better than you.” He felt too much, was tearing himself open with all this, but nine years deserved all his pain. “How wrong was I.” Vadim reached behind him to touch Dan’s neck. “I wanted you even then. And I was... curious. I tried to... get into your mind, and instead let you in. Not good, and yet best thing I’ve done in this whole war.” “Best thing I’ve done in all my life”.”

“Dan didn’t want to say anything, but the words were unstoppable. “I fucking love you. Don’t leave me. You’ve got to find me.” Again, fucking tears. Vadim shook his head, then pressed his face into the crook of Dan’s shoulder, hoped to hide his weakness and felt like a man condemned to die. “I will... find you. If it’s the last thing I’ll do, I’ll come back. Nothing will stop me.”

“I’d die for you, Dan. No questions asked.”“No, Vadim. No.” Dan’s dark eyes were unforgivingly intense. “You must not die for me, not ever. You must live for me, you understand?” His fingertips rested on Vadim’s face. “Give me your word, you will live for me, whatever happens. Even if I never see you again. I need to believe that somewhere, out there, you are alive.”

“Dan pulled him in. Anchored him. Secured him, like one mountain climber to the other, rope and irons and nothing but the abyss if the rope failed. “It will work. I haven’t got this far to give up.”“It’ll work.” Dan’s kisses grew more intense. “It must.” Because you’re mine, and you belong to me.”

“I need you.” He could not go any further down. Rock bottom. And at the very bottom was just this one thing. The core of it all. “Fucking... love you... too much.”

“Right now he was nothing but a physically hurt man who had been through hell and back, clinging to his promise. “We be... together. More than just... few... hours. Wanna die... with you. Not... alone.” Fought to stay awake, needed to spend every second with Vadim while he could.Vadim kissed that hand again, looked up. “We won’t die. We'll never die. I promise. He’d promise anything, meant it, would die defending this man, would live and die and suffer for him.”

“His hand drifted up Jared’s spine and into his hair. For a moment, he just stroked Jared’s scalp, the movements slow, almost tender.“Always hot watching a man get fucked.” And then he grabbed Jared’s hair and jerked his head back. “But even hotter watching him beg for it, isn’t it?”

“I want to learn his body, find every pleasure it’s hiding. All this reverence and simple awe I feel when I touch him, feel his breath brush my skin.”

“For me, he can walk on water, dance in the clouds. I know he can’t, really, but what he can and can’t do pales into nothing when I look at him.”

“It had all been a motherfucking nightmare and the solution was so simple, right there and under their noses. It had just been hidden: love. Fair and square. Just love.”

“Never realized how much you might have been hurt, or worried...you know. Others. Until I found out how fucking painful it is to fear losing you.' 'I never wanted anybody else after I'd found you. After I understood what it is we have. Didn't want any other man.”

“Take me on R&R, aye? Back to where we were before, or a similar place. Sea, sky, sun, and sex 24/7. Deal?'...'Make that 12/7 - getting old.”

“Dan. His. Partner. Comrade. Lover. His again.”

“Pretty is different,' he murmured. 'Pretty has no scars. You are...' jaw muscles tensed again. 'Like the morning sky in Afghanistan. Not 'pretty'. Word's 'breathtaking'.”