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Two knocks meant “all clear,” and three knocks meant “dorogaya, for the love of God, I’m holding something in my hands.”
“I told you to walk behind me. I should let my wife slice you up just for being a nuisance.”
Roma held down the twitch of his smile. He was trying to appear serious in front of the stranger, because Roma hated having a sense of humor in front of strangers, and Juliette made it her mission to provoke him intentionally.
In her head, she still liked the sound of Juliette Montagova, because that was his name, and that was all that mattered.
She liked it when she spotted him at the open market unexpectedly, breaking into a run and surprise-attacking him from the back, getting a laugh in response instead of a gun pulled on her. Their past had made every moment of their future a novelty, and she would never get sick of peppering him with kisses when she woke him up in the mornings, waiting for him to draw away before she was willing to stop—only he always refused to draw away first, offering his face with the biggest grin.
“ ‘I didn’t realize you had such big feet’?” Roma mimicked. “Dorogaya, I’m shocked and disappointed.” “At my terrible housekeeping?” “No, that you have such poor observation skills.” He grabbed her by the waist suddenly and threw her over his shoulder. All of Juliette’s loose hair fell into her eyes as she turned upside down with a squeal, clutching onto the hem of Roma’s shirt for some semblance of balance while he walked them into the bedroom. “I guess I’ll just have to show you again so you are certain next time.”
I took your shirt hostage. The ransom is three kisses. Pay up or the whole wardrobe gets it. ♥ J
STOP IT I LOVE THEM SO MUCH SJAKSA
Science could tell him that the ground was below his feet and the sky was above his head and the early light of day was upon his back. Roma wouldn’t listen. To him, Juliette was the sun.
Roma would braid flower crowns for the children who played by the largest stone bridges.
roma braiding flower crowns?! cutest shit ever.
REALLY, ROMA?! THIS IS THE LAST AND FINAL TIME ANYONE DOES THIS, DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?! GET YOUR WIFE ON THE LINE, I HAVE SOME WORDS FOR HER, TOO—that
“I’m sorry,” Roma replied dryly. He lifted his arm, and Juliette ducked under, pressing close while they walked. “Personally, I think I drive quite well for someone who had chauffeurs all his life.” “Oooh, he had chauffeurs.” “Dorogaya, I know you are not making fun of me right now.”
“Use your strong muscles for me, please, qīn’ài de?”
If he didn’t love Juliette so much, he would really spend every waking moment in fear of what went on in that mind of hers.
These days, though he didn’t need to resort to being a menace anymore, he still liked rolling onto her side of the bed when she was ignoring him for a book and receiving the honor of being smacked away with her pillow.
TOO MUCH CUTENESS I'M DYING
“It’s Juliette Montagova.” She lifted her hand and waved her fingers, flashing her gold wedding ring while she continued onward and exited the living room. “I’m a married woman. Roma, come help me get the knives, would you?” In that moment, as Roma pushed off the wall and followed her obediently, he fell in love all over again.
stop it this made me cry
“What were you shushing me for?” Roma whispered after a few seconds. “You were the one talking.” “I like telling you to shut up,” Juliette replied. “Do you?” “Absolutely.” Entirely straight-faced, she added, “It gets me all hot and bothered.”
“It looks like a storage room inside. I will push the lower pane in. We can climb through easily. Then you can pin me down and—” “Juliette,” Roma interrupted, scandalized. “—I can check whether there is light under the door,” Juliette finished. She paused for effect. “What did you think I was going to say?” “You—” Roma spluttered. “One does not need to be pinned down to check for light.”
When Juliette pulled away, Roma made a satisfied smile and settled to return to sleep. “Such a big baby,” she said fondly.
“Platform number one,” Benedikt reminded. “You’re my only number one,” Marshall replied, somewhat nonsensically.
“A bunk bed,” Marshall remarked as he closed the door after them, taking inventory of their room. “Are you going to miss the warmth of my embrace at night?” “I’m actually going to have such a great time freed from the relentless twitching you do in your sleep.”
But there was a stark difference between Marshall’s patient, controlled love, burning on low while he waited for Benedikt to shake himself into order, and Marshall’s unabashed love, given the kindling to blaze. It was the whisper of contact when he grabbed Marshall’s shoulder to say goodbye leaving their apartment in Shanghai, contrasted with the whole-body hug that Marshall gave him at the doorway of their smaller one-bedroom in Moscow, laughing when Benedikt said he absolutely had to go and laughing harder when Benedikt didn’t actually attempt to extricate himself. It was a longing glance
...more
“I thought you were my roommate.” “We can’t be roommates who kiss?” Benedikt threw a rolled-up pair of socks at his husband. “Unpack, Mars.”
Roma or Juliette usually had set times that they called so that they wouldn’t be missed—and Marshall and Juliette certainly hated missing their gossiping sessions—so
“Are you going to pistol-whip him into shape?” Benedikt shot over a brief glance. He put his gun on the shelf. “Would you like me to?” “Now who’s the one flirting?”
The only time that Marshall had interrupted Benedikt without remorse had been two years ago, for his quiet, unplanned, “Will you marry me?”
“Now you know how I felt the first time I said I loved you.” “Oh, absolutely not. You yelled at me, Ben.” “Fondly!” Marshall couldn’t resist laughing then.
When he kissed him, it was like breathing a deep gulp of summer air, like the first fall of snow landing crisp and cold on his skin. Marshall Seo was fundamentally a temperamental person: a fast driver, a reckless fighter, prone to taking leaps off of three-story buildings instead of finding the stairs. But Benedikt grounded him. Benedikt Montagov moved through the world with such intricate care—his steps calculated, his thought process tunneling miles deep—that Marshall would stick around for ten lifetimes trying to figure him out.
Marshall tried to catch Benedikt’s hand. Benedikt only poked him again, more aggressively. “Come on, solnishko.”
my sun in Russian?? stop it they're so cute 😭
“Did you… use my name?” Marshall, meanwhile, leaned over to whisper to Benedikt. “You do not like it?” Marshall grinned. “I like it very much, Mr. Sokov.”
“This feels very nostalgic,” he said. “We used to look at so many dead bodies together.”
Benedikt stretched his legs out under the table, hooking one foot around the rung on Marshall’s chair and tugging him forward so he wouldn’t fall. Marshall grabbed his ankle before he could pull it away. “At least we confirmed that we have his correct name,” Benedikt replied. He yanked his ankle once more, trying to get it back. Marshall, mischievously, held on tight. There was no indication in either of their voices of the battle going on under the table.
Marshall’s grip started to slide higher. Benedikt used his other leg to kick, and with a silent protest, Marshall was forced to release him. Let me love you, he mouthed. Arrested for public obscenity, Benedikt mouthed back in warning.
“By God”—Benedikt rolled up his sleeves—“I’m going to kill you.” “Nooooo, we’re trying to catch a murderer, not become one!” “Too late!” Benedikt clambered onto the bed, spoon raised. Marshall threw his head back and laughed, yanking his husband down and trying to avoid getting beaten to death by a spoon.
oh my god they're so cute I'm melting 😭
Yet even when the rest of the world was fooled, Benedikt took him seriously. The last star could burn out and the oceans could dry to nothing, but Benedikt would be there, letting Marshall protest and fuss and grouse until his true face came out.
“Ben?” “If this is another ghost theory, I might hit you.” “In an erotic way?” “In a murder way, Mars.” “Maybe I should have been interviewing you as a possible killer.”
“Mars.” “Yes, nae sarang?” “When would I ever hit you erotically?” “It doesn’t sound that great to me either. Pretend I never gossiped about your cousin like this if he asks, but on the phone last month, Juliette said he was really into—”
Benedikt had lost him once. And it had been such a dismal and miserable world that he couldn’t bear to do it again.
Benedikt tried to pull himself together. Leaned in again until their foreheads were touching, breathed and breathed alongside the comfort and the ease that Marshall’s proximity always offered. “It’s all right,” he whispered slowly. “It’s all right as long as I have you.”
“Hey,” he said quietly. His gaze was focused intently, wanting his words to be heard. “I love you, okay? I am never, ever leaving. I will tell you however many times you need to hear it. Just tell me when you need to hear it.”
Marshall grasped Benedikt’s face, smacking a dozen kisses anywhere he could. “You are my hero,” he declared. “Plucked me right up like a mighty rescuer.” Benedikt spluttered a laugh. Though Marshall couldn’t see him properly without any light, he felt Benedikt’s grip tighten around him, their limbs still entangled. “I would reroute the train with my bare hands before I left you behind,” he said matter-of-factly. “How very romantic.” “I know.” Benedikt nudged his chin closer, taking a proper kiss.
So long as he had Marshall by his side, the two of them could face whatever was thrown their way. Together, they were already unstoppable.
