Title: Wishful Dreaming
Pairing(s): Yassen/Alex
Rating: R
Word Count: 1000
Summary: Yassen is quietly undone by the machinations of the world and a fourteen year old boy.
Warning(s): Underage sexual relations and the consequences thereof.
Author's Notes: Written for the LJ community flash_rider's seventh challenge, "And even in our sleep".
Every day Yassen Gregorovich stared listlessly at the four grey walls of his cell, and every night he dreamed of Alex Rider.
He knew better than to say it started innocuously. Alex being the son of his mentor meant that he would have some feelings for the boy. Alex being as steadfast and as gorgeous as he was cemented those feelings into something stronger, until Yassen found himself thinking about the boy long after they'd parted.
There was a stream of little fantasies featuring Alex that he sifted through, considered, and then set aside. He didn't try to deny their existence, and they didn't upset him. He'd had a long time to come to terms with who he was and it didn't surprise him that he would be attracted to Alex Rider. What did surprise him was the persistence of the attraction.
He would find himself thinking of the boy whenever he had a moment of downtime, between missions or while waiting on a balcony over a sundrenched city for a target. When it was just warm enough, and the sun would hit the sandstone walls just right enough to make him think of Alex with his golden hair and sun kissed skin glistening in the light.
They were always pleasant thoughts, ones that seemed unassuming enough that he didn't realize how invasive they had become until he began dreaming of the boy.
He would meet Alex on an imaginary beach, white sand hot underneath his feet and palm trees swaying in the light wind behind him while Alex danced along the shore, back and forth with the incoming waves, letting them catch his toes and then kicking up the water as he jumped out of reach again. He would be avoiding his employers, rebelliously coming out to meet Yassen, the opposition, in his attempt to tell the world to shove off. He would always use Yassen because Yassen would let him. He would smell like salt and the sea when Yassen caught his wrist and pulled him away from the water into an embrace. His skin would be just as warm as Yassen's shirt felt on his back, soaking up the sun. His lips would taste of the salty seawater and he would be perfectly delicious all over.
Then Alex would look up and pull back and even if he was a good head or more shorter he would have a confidence about him that would let Yassen know that he knew what Yassen wanted, even though he hadn't said a word. And Alex would have to leave then, because he had to get back to his task soon and the agency would be missing him.
Not as much as Yassen would be. He would want to keep Alex there, by force if he had to, but his dignity would not allow it. Not like that.
He would wake up while watching the boy step away from him, walking backward toward the ocean, with fleeting happiness in his eyes. Yassen would remember that look all day, even when other aspects of the dream began to fall away. Each time, no matter what the dream consisted of, it would have that effect on him.
When Alex stepped into his world again so suddenly and so physically, his very presence was overwhelming, intoxicating.
They'd run into each other before on missions, always unexpectedly and every time creating a danger to both of them. This time was no different except that after the initial run in, Alex searched him out, again and again. The boy was curious, he wanted information, he wanted to know this man who had known his father, and why they kept running into one another so conveniently. He wanted so much more than that, too.
When Yassen tested him, stepping too close, holding his gaze too long, allowing an unnecessary touch, Alex did not retreat. So Yassen gave in, and Alex wanted him to. He'd completed his mission and so, for three days afterward, enjoyed having Alex with him, under him, on top of him, riding him. He showed Alex everything he could, and in the process almost forgot who he was.
Alex Rider became his world.
It was clear that Alex had never been with anyone. He was open, nervous, and often tried to hide his inexperience until it became obvious. But it was also apparent that Yassen didn't mind; he never expected that kind of experience from Alex. Once Alex understood that, he opened up to the Russian completely.
But Yassen made a terrible mistake. He'd forgotten his surroundings. Alex was fourteen and new to all of this, and Yassen was blinded by that. Long before Alex arrived MI6 had recognized something between them, and the boy wasn't as sure of himself as Yassen thought he was.
He was old enough to want Yassen, but young enough to be controlled. MI6 had played them well.
They wanted Yassen and whether or not they could make his crimes stick was irrelevant. They would hold him and prosecute him anyway. The trouble was that Yassen knew this, was always careful to stay just out of their reach. Other countries were hesitant to let the British government chase after assassins on their soil. Politics.
There was however one kind of criminal that anyone would apprehend immediately, and it was a stroke of luck that MI6 noticed. They didn't once need to speak the words "international assassin" in order to obtain another country's cooperation; sexual relations with a fourteen year old boy were enough.
That boy thought he was doing the right thing. Carefully repeated mention of Yassen's past work and constant pressure all around were enough to make Alex believe them.
When he looked back on their time together, when Alex would seem distant, he could see the cognitive dissonance in his thoughts.
He wanted to be with Yassen, but it was Yassen against the world.
In the end it was Alex Rider, secret agent, who turned him in.
Fin.