The hallway outside their apartment was dim. Quiet.
Mikhail had just gotten back from a late errand—half an excuse to avoid Leon, half an attempt to calm his own nerves.
He didn't expect to find Leon sitting on the floor, curled up against their door like a kicked puppy. Hair a mess, face buried in his arms, shoulders trembling.
For a split second, Mikhail froze.
"…Leon?"
Leon flinched. Looked up fast, eyes red, lips bitten.
"Mikhael—shit—I…"
"What are you doing out here?" Mikhail asked gently, kneeling.
Leon blinked at him, and then—miserably—whimpered, "I think I might've hurt you before."
Mikhail blinked. "Hurt me?"
Leon nodded. "I… I didn't know. I didn't realize. When someone's not used to being—that—and it's too deep or too rough, it actually… hurts. Like a lot. My ass still hurts. I can't even sit straight."
He sniffled, clearly miserable.
Mikhail blinked once, then—
—burst out laughing.
Not cruel. Not mocking. Just completely caught off guard.
Leon blinked. "Why are you laughing?! I'm being serious!"
"Oh, I know," Mikhail managed through his grin, "that's why it's so good."
Leon groaned and covered his face with both hands.
Mikhail sat beside him, still smiling but with a gentler look now.
"You didn't hurt me, Leon," he said, tone softening. "You never have. I'd have told you."
Leon sniffed again. "But what if I did and you just didn't say anything because I always looked so damn satisfied after?"
Mikhail paused.
Okay. Fair point.
He hummed, rubbing Leon's back lightly. "If you want the truth…" he leaned in a bit. "Maybe you were a little rough sometimes. But I liked it."
Leon groaned again. "I hate this."
Mikhail smiled, brushing his knuckles against Leon's cheek.
"I don't."
Leon looked at him with wide, pained eyes. "I miss you."
Mikhail's chest tightened.
"You let me go," he reminded gently.
"I thought I was doing the right thing," Leon muttered. "But that… man… it just felt so wrong after. Not because of the act. But because it wasn't you. I just wanted to forget. Instead I remembered every second."
Mikhail stared at him for a long time. Then whispered:
"…I hope he kissed you like I do."
Leon shook his head. "He didn't kiss me at all."
That—actually—stung.
Mikhail laughed again, soft and bitter. "Idiot."
He opened the door. "Come inside, idiot. I'll get you some ice."
Leon stumbled in, limping, face still blotchy.
The cat meowed and immediately curled around Mikhail's legs, giving Leon nothing but a tail flick.
"Traitor," Leon muttered.
Mikhail handed him a pillow, eyes dancing. "Next time, ask before you switch sides. Literally."
Leon groaned. "There's going to be a next time?"
Mikhail raised a brow. "Do you want one?"
Leon paused, flushed.
"…Maybe. If you're gentler."
Mikhail leaned down, voice low. "No promises."