Chapter 2
By the time he pulls onto Ethan's street, Dmitri can feel himself shaking.
With what, he doesn't really know, but it continues even as he parks the car and pulls the phone from his pocket.
He texts Natalia, as promised, and then he looks up at Ethan's building.
It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness and when they do, Dmitri's breath catches in his throat.
There, with his back against the wall, is Prescott.
Dmitri is out of his car in seconds, crossing the parking lot faster than his legs have any right to carry him after a four-hour drive at four in the morning.
Dmitri's voice is shaky even to his own ears, and he doesn't wait for a response before checking over the other man.
He's cold to the touch, and Dmitri suppresses a cry as he checks his pulse.
"Please,
," he begs, but his fears turn out to be unfounded.
Ethan's pulse is strong and steady beneath his fingers, and Dmitri cannot help himself from leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his temple.
Then, he lets his fingers trail across his arms, his legs, his torso, his chest, making sure that there are no wounds hidden anywhere, that Ethan is indeed unharmed.
It's when Dmitri's fingers trail across the freckles on his cheek that Ethan finally wakes.
For a moment, Ethan's eyes remain unfocused, seemingly unaware of his own surroundings.
Then, his gaze settles on Dmitri and a smile crosses his face, so bright that it's like watching the sun come out.
"Dmmiiitriiii."
Dmitri lets out a sigh of relief, grabbing hold of Ethan's fingers when the other man reaches for him.
"Prescott." It takes him a moment to get his emotions in check.
What
are you doing here?
Who left you here?"
The words come out harsher than intended and a small frown makes its way onto Ethan's face although it doesn't quite overshadow his smile.
"What do you mean?"
"You were asleep outside of your apartment.
Do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"
Ethan looks around and only then seems to realize that he's sitting outside on the concrete.
"Prescott." Dmitri tightens his grip around Ethan's hands.
You need to tell me who left you here.
Did someone hurt you?"
," Ethan whispers, a bad imitation of Dmitri's accent forming around the word, "I like that."
Dmitri is equal parts endeared and exasperated.
"Sweetheart." The endearment tumbles from Dmitri's lips before he has a chance to stop it.
"Please tell me how you got here."
If Ethan noticed the slip, he doesn't show it.
"Well, I – I walked," Ethan says.
"You walked?" Dmitri looks at him, "All the way from the bar?"
"There were women there." Ethan frowns.
"They told me they were Demi, but they lied.
I left."
Dmitri feels so relieved that he barely knows what to do with it.
are Demi," Ethan says.
"Yes." Dmitri lets out a shaky laugh.
"Yes, I am."
"I am Amber," Ethan continues.
"You are Amber," Dmitri confirms, and then, because he cannot help himself, "My Amber."
"Your Amber," Ethan parrots, "I like that."
Despite the cold, a sudden rush of heat spreads across Ethan's cheeks, and Dmitri remembers where they are.
"We need to get you inside," he says.
Ethan lets out a low protest which cuts off when Dmitri leans forward and tightens his arms around him.
Dmitri helps him to his feet and encourages Ethan to hold on to his shoulders.
Ethan does and then, before Dmitri has time to move them towards the door, Ethan crashes his lips to Dmitri's.
Ethan's breath smells like alcohol, and his mouth tastes like something died in it.
His lips are so eager against Dmitri's that it borders on sloppy, and Dmitri is sure that Ethan doesn't mean to swap quite as much saliva as he does.
It is, objectively, a truly terrible kiss and yet, Dmitri moans and hopes that it's never going to end.
Still, he is the one to eventually pull away, whispering soft apologies against Ethan's skin as the other man whines.
"You're freezing," Dmitri tells him and subsequently steers him towards the door.
With absolutely no help from Ethan, Dmitri pushes in the code and maneuvers him inside.
They have almost reached the stairs when Ethan decides that he's had quite enough of walking by now.
He slumps against Dmitri's chest, and Dmitri lets out an exasperated sigh before lifting him into his arms, bridal-style.
"Never known you to be so lazy, Prescott."
"'m not lazy," Ethan mumbles.
He's looking way too pleased with himself, and Dmitri nearly faints when Ethan nuzzles against Dmitri's chest and inhales his scent.
"All right," Dmitri whispers, "Time to get you to bed."
He ascends the stairs, slowly, making sure that Ethan doesn't accidentally slam against the banister.
Once they're in the apartment, Dmitri spares no time walking them across the floor plan to reach the bedroom.
"We should take a shower," Ethan says as they cross the threshold.
"Sweetheart, if we take a shower now, you'll drown."
"Nuh-uh." Ethan shakes his head, seemingly unsatisfied with this vision of events.
"You wouldn't let me drown."
Ethan's face is downright sinful as he looks up at him beneath his lashes, and Dmitri groans.
I am so fucked
," he mutters, too low for Ethan to hear it.
He carries Ethan the rest of the way to the bed before gently lowering him onto the mattress.
Ethan lets himself be manhandled quite willingly, except when Dmitri leans back, Ethan's arms stay locked around his neck.
"Prescott," Dmitri's voice is low as he meets Ethan's gaze," You need to let me go now.
You need to go to sleep."
"But I'm not tired."
Dmitri can't help the chuckle that escapes him.
"Is like eight hours past your bedtime."
"But I won the Trophy," Ethan says, a bit petulantly, "I want to celebrate.
Won't you – won't you celebrate with me?"
And then – before Dmitri has time to form any form of defense – honest-to-God
tears
well into Ethan's eyes, and Dmitri's heart clenches painfully.
"Ethan, sweetheart,
yes
, I will, but you need to sleep, okay?
Sleep first, and then we'll celebrate."
By the looks of Ethan's face, he doesn't hear it, not really.
"I wanted –" Ethan hiccups, "I wanted to celebrate with you."
"I know, mia serdce, I know, and I am so sorry I wasn't here." Dmitri presses a kiss to his temple.
"We will celebrate tomorrow."
Ethan's lip wobbles in a way that breaks Dmitri's heart.
He looks up at him, cheeks flushed and tears in his eyes.
"Promise?" he whispers.
Dmitri hums.
"I promise I'll rock your world, Ethan Prescott." Dmitri presses another kiss to his freckles because they are
right there
, and Dmitri is only human.
"My champion," he whispers, and Ethan lets out a pleased smile.
"Two times champion," Ethan tells him, as if Dmitri has forgotten, "You have to do it
twice
Dmitri snorts knowing that Prescott is going to be absolutely mortified when he wakes in the morning.
"I'll do it twice," he whispers and kisses his nose, "I promise you."
With this promise, Ethan finally lets go of his hold around Dmitri's neck, although Dmitri thinks it has more to do with the complete sleepiness currently overtaking his body rather than an actual willingness to do so.
Dmitri takes the opportunity to remove the shoes from his feet and wrestles him out of his jacket.
Then, he checks that his keys and phone and wallet are all safely tucked inside the pockets, before folding it and lying it on the chair next to the closet.
There's an empty glass of water on the bedside table and Dmitri goes into the ensuite to fill it.
When he comes back, Ethan is looking at him through half-lidded eyes.
"You're still here," he whispers.
"Of course, I am."
"Will you –" Ethan starts before stopping again, a suddenly sober look crossing his face, "Will you stay with me?" he asks, voice impossibly vulnerable.
Dmitri hadn't planned to.
In fact, he was about to find the nearest guestroom and steal the duvet with him to the couch.
But Ethan is looking at him in a way that Dmitri has never been able to resist and suddenly, Dmitri cannot imagine going to sleep anywhere that isn't in Ethan Prescott's arms.
Before he has time to change his mind, Dmitri toes off his own shoes and jacket, keeping both sweatpants and sweatshirt on.
Then, he settles in beside Ethan and adjusts the covers above them.
Dmitri turns off the light, and Ethan spares no time curling up against him, limbs slotting so perfectly against Dmitri's that Dmitri thinks he might go a little bit insane.
Once they're tangled together, a look of absolute contentment fills Ethan's face.
One of his hands sneaks across Dmitri's chest, and Dmitri's just about to grab it before it pauses above Dmitri's heart, fingers curling around the fabric of his t-shirt.
Dmitri hasn't had a drop of alcohol all night but this sight, he thinks, might make him a little bit drunk.