Unnamed Steampunk - Grazed Knee

[nothingtoregret]

Rating: 15
Word Count: 571
Summary: Kirill skins his knee on part of Niko's workshop. Niko insists on kissing it—and more—better...
Notes: Inspired by a prompt on the imagineyourotp Tumblr page.


"...Oh." Kirill stared down at the torn slash of fabric across his knee and worried at his lower lip. "I'm sorry..."

"What for?" Niko glanced across, then shoved his goggles up to his forehead, his golden eyes widening in alarm. "What happened?"

"I caught it on the board." He gestured with his head to a ragged chunk of wood almost half as tall as him. "I'll pay for a new pair—"

"With what?" Niko gave him a gentle smile as he laid down the tools and trotted across the workshop toward his assistant. "You won't let me give you an allowance."

Kirill shook his head, keeping his gaze fixed on his thigh rather than see the expression on the other man's face. "Then I'll repair them, I promise."

"If you even try I'll burn the damn things." Niko dropped to his knees beside Kirill. The way his knuckles grazed his skin as he rolled the fabric up to better inspect the wound beneath made Kirill's stomach twist in ways he still couldn't fully understand. The sharp intake of breath as the material rose above his knee made him finally look down again, brows knit together as Niko grimaced. "You've grazed your knee. I knew I should've sanded that down sooner."

"It's fine." He tried to step back but Niko's hands with their long, slender fingers wrapped around his calf. If he moved now there was every chance he'd just topple over instead. "Really. I've done worse."

Niko looked up at him and the sadness in his half-smile was enough to give his guts another good wrenching. "I know."

Kirill opened his mouth to object, desperately wanting to look away before Niko's expression turned to the inevitable pity, but no sound came out. It wasn't pity. After a heartbeat Niko wasn't even looking at him at all. Instead he'd dropped his head and planted the softest kiss he'd ever felt—not that he'd felt many, and all came from Niko—on the pale skin beside the scrape.

A shiver ran through him and his stomach lurched hard enough that he thought it'd tangle up with his heart; the faint smile that skittered across Niko's mouth told him that the other man was fully aware how he felt. "A kiss'll make it better."

"I don't think that works—"

Niko had already anticipated his response. Another one tickled the skin just above the wound. "You're sure?"

"Ye—" Another shudder ran across his shoulders as Niko's lips brushed the soft skin above the inside of his knee.

"Really sure?" The fingers manipulated the leg of his trousers higher, as high as they'd go, as his mouth moved along the tender line of his lower thigh, butterfly kisses that made real butterflies seem like carthorses.

Kirill shook his head and bit his lip again.

Thwarted by the folds of the trousers, Niko moved instead to nibble gently at the dark fabric and Kirill's breath caught in his throat. "Does it still hurt?"

Dumbly he shook his head again, his breathing ragged. This was unfair—

Those long fingers he so admired moved to deftly undo the buttons and catches of his trousers, his smiling mouth moving to follow where his touch led. "I guess we should be sure though, right?"

He swallowed and nodded. "If you say so..."

"Oh, I do." Niko grinned and slid his hands into the waistband of Kirill's underwear. "I most definitely do."