Beef bourguignon wasn't anything special, not to Ethan anyway. It might have been to Dimitri but then, well… he didn't know the other man that well. Which was part of the point of a date, wasn't it? In any case, beef bourguignon. Ethan had had Dimitri send him a grocery list and he'd picked up everything they needed earlier that day. It had been a slower week with work picking up a little more on Friday but not so much that he couldn't slip off to the grocery store and be home with time to get ready. Having his own plans for the night was a nice distraction from the fact that Theo was celebrating his birthday that night as well. That didn't mean he didn't think about it throughout the day but he did his best to dash all thoughts of it. Theo had moved on. He had moved on. Was moving on. And yet… It didn't help that he'd felt an odd sense of urgency whenever he'd seen Theo in passing after he'd returned from his trip to Japan. Almost a tugging, a desire to approach when he'd never done so before. That wasn't the only oddity he'd experienced either. He'd been hungrier than usual with a craving for meat, meat that was damn near raw when he generally preferred his steak medium. He wondered if it had something to do with Eddie, if it was because it had been nearly a month since Brock had made his appearance and was likely due real soon for another one. That wasn't something Ethan was looking forward to and thus it was more thoughts to push aside. Instead, Ethan thought of Dimitri; he thought of how kind he was, how attractive. Like with Theo and Q, Dimitri was absolutely his type but unlike with Theo and Q, Ethan was holding back, dragging his feet. There was a part of him that was so afraid of the eventual ending that he wasn't even letting anything begin. And yet, Dimitri was there, he'd continued gently nudging Ethan and he very nearly had him, hook, line, and sinker with the mystery of what he might find if he were to Google the man.
Ethan was anything if not stubborn. He'd made a promise to Dimitri not to look him up online and he wouldn't, but that didn't mean he wouldn't try to put things together on his own. He was a detective, after all. Unfortunately, Dimitri had been careful about what he revealed and no amount of investigative skills was going to uncover anything on the man without utilizing the internet. So, Ethan had had to wait. But not anymore. Tonight was the night he'd find out what was such a big secret that Dimitri had made him wait for three dates to learn. Dimitri seemed to fear that he'd want nothing to do with him after he revealed his secret but Ethan couldn't imagine what Dimitri could tell him that would be that bad. Maybe that he murdered someone, but even then… Well, let's just say that Ethan didn't see things in black and white. He liked Dimitri and he highly doubted that anything would change his mind about that.
With barely half an hour to spare before Dimitri was due to arrive at his apartment, Ethan put the perishables away and dropped the rest of the groceries on the kitchen counter and then he was off to shower. He still felt a little off as he had for the past week or so but he ignored the feeling as he finished his shower and dressed in a pair of dark rinsed jeans and a gray t-shirt. He had just enough time to actually organize the non-perishable groceries before Dimitri arrived. Ethan paused on the way to the door to check his appearance in a mirror in the entryway and froze for a moment when the eyes reflected back at him were black and swirling. He blinked and when he looked in the mirror again, his eyes were their normal hazel. Something coiled in the pit of his stomach as he searched his face again but seeing nothing amis, he moved to open the door at admit his date. He gave Dimitri a crooked grin in greeting, a hand absently lifting to his still damp hair as he ushered the man inside and shut the door behind him. He was having trouble shaking that weird feeling and it likely showed.
In all honesty, Dimitri would have been happier never telling anybody about his past. In the rare moments that he could manage it, it was so much easier to pretend that it had never happened, that there wasn't a humiliating piece of information floating around the internet about him, only a few clicks away, that he wasn't infamous and the hot topic of gossip blogs, that he didn't possess the worst kind of celebrity — notoriety for all the wrong reasons. But with the way the world was going — his world, in particular, losing a week and being confronted with information of who had taken over and what he could expect and, too, things he couldn't expect, like the possibility that he could develop powers that didn't even belong to either him or the new person sharing his body, and what then? It was too unpredictable for somebody who liked — and needed — to have total control over his own life. Dimitri was all about routine, exercised religiously, treated his body like a temple, met every personal goal he set for himself and then some. It was important. And this — all of this, was completely out of his realm of experience. Aside from their first date experience with the mind-controlling asshole, he and Ethan hadn't talked about anything to do with that, and it was — nice, actually, not having to think about it. But there was the other elephant in the room, the lurking nature of Mitya's Google presence, and he was tired of avoiding it. It would be better to say it out loud.
And most everyone he knew were at another party, so it was the perfect night to slip away and tune the rest of the world completely out, to throw on a leather jacket, a nice white t-shirt, slim navy jeans and doc martens and to hop on his motorbike to cross town to Ethan's. The ingredients were waiting for him so Dimitri brought red wine, an older luxury vintage that he held up with a smile and palmed it off to Ethan as he entered. He rid himself of his jacket and hung it up before he turned to cast him a curious glance.
"Catch you at a bad time? Unprepared?" He teased.
Dimitri was making himself at home, removing his jacket and finding a place to hang it all before turning and greeting Ethan. It wasn’t surprising per se but Ethan found he liked it. That Dimitri could make himself comfortable in someone else’s home, that he wasn’t awkward and uncertain. Not like Ethan himself was beginning to feel for whole other reasons that he didn’t even understand. That’s not to say he would have behaved differently - he wouldn’t - but rather that he was feeling so off that it stood out to him perhaps more than it would have otherwise. Closing the door behind Dimitri, Ethan shifted the wine the other man had passed off to him from one hand to the other, finally glancing down to look at it with a raised brow. By the time Dimitri finally spoke, Ethan’s lips were curving into an amused smile. There was a very, very brief hesitation before he stepped close to Dimitri, close enough that their chests nearly touched. He was crowding him, drawing close as much because he wanted to as because he was trying to tease. “I don’t know,” he started slowly, eyes sparkling in mirth. “Is it possible to be prepared for the bomb you’re going to drop?” Both brows raised then and Ethan shifted a little closer and dipped his chin just slightly as though he were going to kiss him but then he was withdrawing and turning on his heel.
Tilting his head in gesture for Dimitri to follow, Ethan led the way to the small kitchen. “Is it possible to be unprepared for something I planned?” He tossed over his shoulder. It was rhetorical, more teasing than anything but he had to wonder. Something swirled low in his belly and his smile faded as he reached the kitchen and set the bottle of wine on the counter. The kitchen was barely big enough for two grown men but it would have to do. Ethan didn’t think Dimitri would shy away from brushing against him every few minutes when moving around the kitchen. He gestured to the items that were arranged on the lone free countertop. “So, how was your Friday?” he ventured, leaning a hip against the nearest countertop to await Dimitri’s instruction. Ethan was anything if not a good student in the kitchen.
The flirting was a nice distraction from the very distinct sense of irritable worry creeping in underneath Dimitri's outer layer of cool, calm composure. It did feel like a bit of a bombshell to drop, and he wondered if it wasn't perhaps better to have said it from the get go, to avoid all of this — anticipation, build-up, the inevitability that Ethan would cringe and ghost him and — well, it was fine, if that was what happened. Dimitri didn't chase people, like he'd said, and he was ashamed enough of his own history to know that it wasn't worth holding it against anyone for not wanting anything to do with him. But he'd returned the flirting with an unabashed smirk of his own, hadn't leaned away, and sniffed with a bit of amusement as Ethan lead him to the kitchen.The size of it didn't bother him at all. Dimitri set to work sorting through the ingredients that Ethan had gathered for them, sectioning things out in order of how they'd prepare them. He brushed past Ethan in his efforts to find the right cookware, still easily making himself at home, helping himself to whatever he needed. "It was fine. Work." He shrugged, turned with a pot in his hands from where he'd found it in the cabinet, and inclined his head to Ethan. "Make yourself useful and pour us some wine, then start trimming the fat off the brisket." He slid past him, paused close to flash a smile up at Ethan, and then turned his body so he could busy himself with opening up the bacon packets so he could start swiftly chopping it.
"We don't have to do the small talk." Dimitri said without looking at Ethan, and despite the ease in which he held himself and the steadiness of his voice it was clear that his avoidance of eye contact meant that he was — well, maybe a little nervous. How could he not be nervous? "I can just tell you now. In case it's — you know. Then you can kick me out and order in, if you want to."
If Ethan was feeling off, it was nothing compared to how Dimitri was feeling. At least, Ethan realized as much when he avoided his eyes and then remarked on Ethan kicking him out. Fishing a corkscrew out of a drawer, Ethan didn’t say anything right away as he worked the cork out of the bottle of wine and then pulled out a couple of wine glasses. Filling the glasses, he set the bottle down and then nudged Dimitri with his elbow, a crooked smile playing on his lips once more as he offered him a glass of wine. “Why don't you have a drink first? I’d rather have a home-cooked meal, so let’s get on with it, and then you can talk. That way if I kick you out, I can finish up the meal.” He was teasing but Ethan honestly didn’t think it was as terrible as Dimitri thought it was going to be. Because really, what could he possibly have done that was so awful? Ethan was pretty sure the other man couldn’t hold a candle to the things he’d done. Ethan turned to pull the brisket out of the refrigerator, his mind inevitably drifting to Theo and how horrifically he’d fucked up that relationship. He thought about how he was still slightly obsessed with the younger man even years later. He heard laughter and his head whipped up in Dimitri’s direction, a crease between his eyebrows, but it wasn’t Dimitri that was laughing. That feeling of unease settled in the pit of his stomach and if anything, Ethan thought he might want Dimitri to stay simply to distract him from the bad feeling that had plagued him all day long.
With the brisket set out on the counter, Ethan helped himself to the second glass of wine, taking a hefty swallow and quietly humming his approval. Setting the glass down, he moved over to where Dimitri was working and had to reach over him to reach the block that the knives were in. He made a point to brush against the other man as he did so, shooting him a sly look that quickly shifted to something more innocent-looking. Knife in hand, Ethan returned to the brisket and began doing as he’d been instructed. “You didn’t fall asleep at work today, did you? Although,” he added before Dimitri could reply. “That might not be a bad thing. Give you more… stamina tonight.” He grinned even though his back was to the other man and he wouldn’t see it.
Dimitri certainly couldn't hear any laughter, and didn't even seem to notice when Ethan looked, jerkily, his way. He'd smiled and taken the poured glass of wine for himself for a sip — a little bit of liquid courage never hurt. He collected the pile of chopped bacon he'd collected and deposited it in a pan with oil, leaving it there to sauté as he set to chopping the vegetables. Mitya paused as Ethan moved closer, eyes narrowing as his personal space was invaded — which wasn't at all an issue, naturally, but Dimitri couldn't help the playful glare he shot Ethan's way at the innocent look he received in return, and only went back to chopping once Ethan was out of the way, and let out an abrupt laugh at his suggestion."Oh, is that where you think tonight is going?" He asked casually and tilted his head to shoot a glance over his shoulder at Ethan. It was only briefly — he wanted to get the prep for dinner done as quickly as possible, since the stew would take a while to simmer, and while they waited they could — talk. And Dimitri, truly, just wanted that to be done. Still, as he returned to his task at hand, he flushed a little at the thought and snorted. "Let's just make sure you like the dish, first. Everyone I've ever cooked for before could be lying to me." Unlikely, but — Dimitri liked to tease to deflect nonetheless.
"And no I didn't fall asleep at work, but I was tempted. Just a quick nap." He paused and stretched as if he were tired, then set to work separating the bacon and the fat and oil from the pan, and gesturing to Ethan to bring the brisket over to begin searing it in the leftovers.
The glare Ethan received when he brushed up against Dimitri only made him want to linger. But they were busy. Maybe later. But then Dimitri was teasing about where the night would head. At least Ethan thought he was teasing. He hoped he was teasing. He wasn’t used to waiting, to not jumping straight into bed after a nice date, and they’d had at least a couple of those now. Still, Ethan respected Dimitri, and sensing that that wasn’t what he wanted, he had pushed for anything. He wouldn’t that night either but still, he couldn’t help hoping that the evening might go down that path. Dimitri was a handsome man and one that Ethan was immensely attracted to. It was only natural to desire, right? Instead of answering the question, however, Ethan demured with a hum and no elaboration. Let Dimitri think what he wanted of that. Focusing on the task at hand, Ethan expertly trimmed the fat from the chunk of meat that he was working with. He had to scoff at Dimitri’s modesty. “I’m sure it’s just fine,” he responded a bit gruffly. “I didn’t invite you over to cook for me, though, Mitya,” he said quietly, the nickname falling from his lips with ease despite it being the first time he used it. In fact, Ethan had invited Dimitri over to cook with him. It wasn’t often he found someone else who enjoyed cooking like he did and he wanted to share that joy. What little of it he did manage to get from it.
He chuckled at Dimitri’s elaboration about not falling asleep at work. When it was indicated that he should bring the brisket over to the stovetop, Ethan once again, stepped close to Dimitri but this time he didn’t move away right away. Instead, he lingered, standing just behind the man with his front pressed to Dimitri’s back. He leaned his head over Dimitri’s left shoulder to watch what he was doing and when he spoke, his mouth was near Dimitri’s ear. “You could grab one of those power naps you’re such an advocate for if you want. I can hold down the fort while you do.” As if to prove his point, Ethan reached around Dimitri with his right hand and pried the cooking utensil from his hand. Although he’d suggested Dimitri could take a nap, Ethan had effectively blocked him in.
His nicknames were often so affectionate and intimate that hearing one for the first time from someone who hadn't used it before always instilled something new in Dimitri. He couldn't contain the way he blinked towards Ethan when he said it, and he wondered how he'd known to use it, theorizing fairly quickly that he'd probably heard others, especially Morgan, on the last-minute Vegas trip they'd all gone on together. It was a nice thought that warmed him, encouraged a little smile at the corners of his mouth — that Ethan had paid attention and had remembered. He didn't say anything about it, just pocketed the information away and continued with what he was doing until Ethan crept in behind him, voice in his ear, hand on his hand to steal his knife away."Hey." Dimitri laughed, a little bit of cover for the fact that the closeness surprised him, disarmed him, and he tensed with a little anticipation, the unexpected shift in dynamic throwing him just enough to not know what to expect from what was supposed to happen next. Mitya wasn't opposed to casual sex — the opposite, in fact — but Ethan was someone special to Morgan, and the last thing he wanted was to put her in a situation where two of her closest friends were strange around one another. Still, though — Mitya could feel a little warmth flooding his skin and he tilted his head just a little to be able to get a look at Ethan's face from his peripheral vision.
"You didn't invite me here to cook for me, either," Dimitri answered, tone lilting and teasing again, and even with Ethan pressed up behind him he made swift work of throwing the brisket into the oil, and remaining vegetables, and then he shifted against the counter and twisted in a way that suggested he wanted to turn around but couldn't until Ethan gave him a little bit of room. "You know, this thing takes like two hours to simmer, if you keep distracting me you're never gonna get dinner."
Indeed, Ethan had seen (or heard) others call Dimitri by the nickname, those that presumably were close to him. It was what made him want to use it himself. That and he wanted to see how Dimitri reacted to it. He wasn't disappointed and like Dimitri, he filed the reaction away to perhaps analyze later. At the moment, Ethan was a little too focused on drawing that knife from the other man's hand. Well, that and teasing as much by taking the knife and speaking directly into his ear as with his body that pressed up against him. Unlike Dimitri, Ethan hadn't thought about Morgan, hadn't thought about what fallout there might be if things went south between them. Hell, he couldn't even think about things going further than they had thus far, though he wanted to. The laughter that followed was a little puzzling to Ethan. He wasn't sure if Dimitri was genuinely amused or if he was laughing to pass off any awkwardness he might have felt. Still, Ethan didn't pull away. Quite the opposite, in fact. He moved to set the knife aside as Dimitri tossed the vegetables into the skillet but left his arm there on the counter, his other carefully on the stove, effectively trapping the other man. "Maybe, I did," he replied, mouth still near Dimitri's ear. He was close enough that he could smell the shampoo the other man used and it was… alluring, to say the least. Hungry. The voice in his head startled Ethan some, enough that he pulled his head back. He could just smell the bacon that had been fried but that wasn't what had his stomach growling.
Busy trying to puzzle that one out, Ethan didn't immediately notice when Dimitri began to shift against him. In fact, it wasn't until Dimitri spoke again that Ethan started and refocused on the man he'd all but forgotten for a second. Blinking, Ethan took a couple of steps back, giving Dimitri more than enough room to move around. The look on Ethan's face was almost troubled but he did his best to shake the unease and forced a small smile, his eyes not quite meeting Dimitri's. "Why did you choose something that takes so long? I'm hungry now, he tried to tease, taking a single step toward Dimitri but this time, still leaving space between them. Was he really that hungry though, or was it that voice in his head? He immediately shook the thought. There was no voice in his head. Mentally shaking himself, Ethan focused on Dimitri again with a sly smile. "What were you planning on us doing during that two hour wait?"
Ethan's reaction had Dimitri confused — one second ago he'd been up in his business, mouth at his ear, and now that he was turned around Ethan looked — perturbed. Annoyed, maybe? Bothered? If he expected Dimitri to put out at that exact moment when he had a whole ton of bubbling anxiety going on underneath a cool exterior all relating to that elephant in the room about his past — well, Ethan had another fucking thing coming. Dimitri inhaled a short, sharp breath at Ethan's smile. Maybe not bothered. Something else, though — he'd seemed weird the moment Dimitri stepped into his apartment and he couldn't place why. Perhaps Ethan was just as anxious about whatever news Mitya was going to drop as he was. He relaxed a little more, trying to ease his tension away, leaning with his hands against the edge of the countertop as Ethan shifted a little closer again. Mitya let out a scoff of amusement. "It's worth it, I promise. Your patience will be rewarded. And—" He pressed his tongue into the inside of his cheek, shot a smirk Ethan's way, a twinkle in his gaze, and shrugged. "You'll see." In reality, Dimitri had every intention of getting it off of his chest as soon as the food was in the oven — so he whipped about Ethan and finished the final few steps on his own, adding stock and tomato paste and herbs, covering the pot, and shifting around, bending over so he could slide it into the oven.
"Can you set a timer? Two hours." Dimitri commented over his shoulder, made sure that everything was set, and then closed the door and reached for his wine and turned back to face Ethan with it cradled against his chest. He flashed him a light, trepidatious smile. "Hey, I'm — gonna tell you now. That better be okay."
Ethan didn't miss the way that Dimitri's face seemed to harden and it gave him pause, made his smile feel even smaller than it was. He did feel weird, off somehow but he didn't want to cancel the date. As much as he wanted to know what it was Dimitri was hiding, he wanted to see the man as well. He wasn't just teasing when he flirted with Dimitri, when he moved close or brushed against him; Ethan was interested, very much so, and he didn't think that there was anything that Dimitri would tell him that would make him less so. He didn't exactly know how to relay as much, so he hadn't said anything other than to attempt up diminish the importance of whatever it was the other man was going to confess. Unfortunately, he was a detective and his curiosity was piqued too, so he couldn't help that he desperately wanted to know. It hadn't helped that Dimitri had all but hinted at it a handful of times during their dates. His eyebrows lowered over his eyes as Dimitri insisted that it would be worth the wait. That 'and,' however, had a brow shooting up. He knew the man was teasing but he couldn't help but to try and pry it out of him. "And what?" he shot back, starting to take a step closer again. Before he could draw close enough to touch, however, Dimitri was moving past him, eliciting an exasperate sigh. With a shake of his head and a small smile, Ethan just watched Dimitri move around his kitchen with comfort. It was a far cry from how Theo had navigated the kitchen and yet it reminded Ethan of times that he'd bustled around the small kitchen in his New York apartment cooking for Theo. He'd never had anyone cook for him before and he truly hadn't asked if Dimitri cooked to have him cook for him. "What can I do?" he asked, almost feeling a bit lost in his own kitchen. He turned with Dimitri as he moved, watching him in his element. He didn't pick up on any nerves at all but then that was probably because the man was keeping himself busy.
At Dimitri's instruction, Ethan just sighed again. He hadn't taken up Ethan's offer to help, not really. He'd wanted it to be a joint effort and yet he was still somewhat warmed that Dimitri was doing it for him, though he supposed it was for himself up too. After setting the timer on the stove, Ethan turned to Dimitri as he all but hugged his wine glass. Frowning slightly, he gave a shake of his head. "You're nervous," he pointed out. Turning he picked up the bottle of wine and topped off both their glasses before he was looking at Dimitri earnestly. "Don't be nervous. I'm sure it's not that big of a deal. It's not like you murdered anyone or anything." Right? He stopped talking then, not wanting to prolong what was stressing the other man out so much. That unease continued to swirl in the pit of his stomach but it had nothing to do with Dimitri. Ethan wasn't the least bit worried about what the other man would confess, but he was very, very curious.
Dimitri hadn't been lying to Jackson when he'd said that his love language was acts of service. The older he got, the more he enjoyed caring for other people — cooking for them, being a shoulder to cry on, looking out for whoever needed it. It was easy to sink into that here, to finish the food preparation on his own without bothering Ethan too much for it — especially when Dimitri already felt like he'd be on thin ice, shortly, and was maybe trying to ingratiate himself a little further before he dropped the bombshell. As Ethan topped his wine up, Dimitri took a quick swig, trying not to drink it too quickly — it was expensive, after all, and he didn't want it to go too quickly to his head, but it would help.He shot Ethan a warning look at his it's not that big of a deal. And no — maybe he hadn't murdered anyone, but when Mitya thought back to that time, he might as well have — might as well have been reckless enough to cause something like that to happen if he hadn't been somewhat lucky. He glanced down at the oven, and the pot of simmering beef bourguignon beyond. It would be better to pull it off like a bandaid, but Dimitri hadn't had to tell anyone for a while now — most people knew that about him already and loved him despite it, or they'd educated themselves and varied between talking about it or avoiding it.
"I used to be a professional gymnast." Dimitri said finally with a shrug, and glanced downwards at his wine glass. "I was really good. Uh — a prodigy, they said. A big time international coach in Boston wanted me. That level. But it was — high pressure. Kind of a toxic environment. And I was young and stupid and fell in with some bad influences who..." Dimitri squared his jaw and met Ethan's gaze as he tried to get it out as factually and as simply as possible. "I wasn't a good person. I was mean, and arrogant, and I did whatever I could to get ahead. I went to the Olympics, and I was going to win gold, but I'd — pushed too hard, and I hurt myself, and I made a mistake, and I lost my cool on live TV. At the judges, at everyone, and — I just — went off the rails."
He took another slow swig of wine, looking a little pale and sick at the memory. "And then, a little later, I got into an argument — a fight — with a competitor, and... I was so — frayed, that we went at it. Physically. And — I I didn't mean to actually hurt him, I just wanted to punch him, but he broke his ankle and — that was his career, over. And mine, too. Nobody wanted to work with me after that. And I had a substance abuse problem, and no career, and the years after that are kind of — a blur. And now if you Google Dimitri Geller it's just — all of that, what happened to me, and reporters who want the next bit of gossip on me, and who I'm dating, and what I'm doing, and — people trick me to get dates with me, so I just... Don't talk about it. Much."
With it all out in the open, Dimitri steadied a cool, level gaze on Ethan, bracing for his reaction.
Okay… Okay. Maybe that hadn't been the best thing to say. Ethan wasn't always great with words but he was doing his best to offer the nervous man reassurances. He cringed at the look Dimitri shot him but didn't have a chance to say anything more. Not that he'd even know what to say. As Dimitri began talking, Ethan's eyes remained locked on his face, watching even as Dimitri averted his gaze and then again, looked up and met his eyes. His eyebrows furrowed as he tried to guess where Dimitri was going. He couldn't guess though and he was confused for a moment. He couldn't imagine Dimitri being a bad person. Everyone started as kids, so yes, he could see him being dumb and reckless but a bad person? Absolutely not. Not compared to Ethan. His stomach twisted and that laughter came again and Ethan grit his teeth against it and refocused on Dimitri. As Dimitri's face paled, Ethan had the urge to go to him, to move across the small kitchen. He wasn't sure what he'd do though, hug him? Pat him on the back? What did you do in this instance? But then he wasn't finished. Ethan's face was expressionless aside from the furrow of his brows as he continued listening. And then even his eyebrows smoothed out and he was staring at Dimitri as the other man finished, got it all out. For several long seconds, Ethan just stared at him, hazel locked on brown and it was only when it looked like Dimitri was going to say something, to goad him into reacting, that Ethan did react.
He didn't think about what he was doing, moved by pure instinct. He wanted to comfort Dimitri, wanted to reassure him. Ethan thought no different of him simply because he'd had a rough few years and was, apparently, well known for it. Closing the distance between them, Ethan's right hand slid behind Dimitri's neck, sliding up to cradle the back of his head as he tilted it and covered Dimitri's mouth with his own. The kiss was soft at first, tender but Ethan slowly deepened it with a brush of his tongue along the seam of Dimitri's lips, urging him to part them for him. Yessss… That voice again, but Ethan ignored it, simply holding Dimitri and getting lost in that feeling. And then there was no feeling at all, nothing.
Ethan's body jerked away from Dimitri and convulsed for a moment, black creeping over him as though it were a second skin. He grew a few inches and then came the wide mouth full of sharp teeth. "Finally," the thing practically growled and then it looked down at Dimitri, head tilting curiously. Its mouth curved into a wide, wicked grin and then a long, pink tongue slithered out from between the rows of teeth and licked up the side of Dimitri's face. It made a sound not unlike that of a groan. "I'm so hungry." Ethan railed inside the creature but he was locked up tight. He wasn't getting out anytime soon. Don't you touch him! Ethan all but snarled as he fought in vain to regain control.
Silence was the worst possible reaction Dimitri could have hoped for, and he'd stared Ethan down, growing more agitated by every passing second — which weren't many before Ethan closed the distance between them, but they'd stretched on in Dimitri's mind for hours. Silence into a kiss was even less expected, and Dimitri, in all honesty, didn't know how to react. He blinked rapidly, frowned, put his hands on Ethan's arms in such a way that he couldn't quite decide if he was about to push him off to demand some verbal confirmation that he wasn't hated, or to pull him closer, because — well, a kiss had to be the kind of positive answer he'd been hoping for. Mitya relaxed, and kissed Ethan back.And would have continued to had Ethan's body not whipped away from him and convulsed and grew pitch-dark and strange and large and — not human. Human-ish, in the shape, Ethan-ish in the shape of it, but huge and monstrous with too many sharp teeth and a tongue snaking out to touch him and Dimitri's fingers had gripped onto the edge of the counter, blanched white with the way he'd tightened from shock, mouth parted, green eyes wide. The touch of the strange slick tongue to his face had him jerking out of his horrified reverie and into action, his head snapping away, expression shifting into terror and disgust. Hungry? Holy shit — that thing wanted to eat him.
And it was — Ethan? Or wasn't — had it been disguised as him? Had it been waiting this whole time for — what? Dimitri couldn't figure it out in that moment, wasn't about to waste any time on it, and simply reached behind him for the still hot pan sitting on the stove, grabbed it by the handle, and swung it hard for the side of the monster's head. "Not for dinner!" He snapped back and wrenched himself sideways in an attempt to scramble over the kitchen counter and away from it.
The thing was that if Ethan had actually spoken, he was sure he would have said the wrong thing, would have upset Dimitri or make him grow defensive. The truth of the matter was that Ethan's opinion of Dimitri hadn't changed one bit, and in fact, he thought the man silly to think that it would. Of course, as he'd said, he'd had bad experiences with people learning about his past. But Ethan saw nothing wrong with Dimitri and didn't think he should believe there was anything wrong with him. But how to say all of that and be tactful… that was the problem. And so, Ethan used actions instead of words. When Dimitri seemed to hesitate, Ethan worried that maybe he'd done the wrong thing, after all, that maybe he was doomed to make things worse somehow. But then Dimitri was kissing him back and Ethan went to deepen the kiss, opening himself up that much more… And that was when it struck.It could sense the man's fear, practically taste it when it licked the side of his face and it made it want to eat the man that much more. Its tongue licked its own mouth salaciously and then it reached for Dimitri. Ethan had a front row seat and watched in horror as whoever or whatever had taken over his body started to move toward Dimitri. Ethan yelled for all the good it would do him and the thing actually stopped. "Oh, shut up," it grumbled aloud. Fixing a grin on Dimitri, the thing almost chuckled. "He doesn't want me to-" Before it could finish its sentence, the hot pan caught him in the side of the face and it shrieked, batting the pan aside and turning on Dimitri.
While Dimitri scrambled desperately, awkwardly, the thing crouched and leaped up on the kitchen counter where it remained crouched and watching Dimitri curiously, its head tilting a little. And then it moved, its large form moving almost as Dimitri himself had when he'd been a gymnast. It gave chase to Dimitri but it was holding back, almost as though it were teasing him. It was playing with its food. Meanwhile, Ethan was spitting mad and doing all he could to take wrest control back from the creature or at the very least convince it to leave Dimitri alone. The creature sighed as it came to a stop a handful of feet away from Dimitri. "I just want to taste him." That got a very adamant no from Ethan with some very harsh threats that Ethan didn't even know if he could follow through on. Was this how things were when Eddie was in control? Was that Eddie? It was as though the thing could hear his thoughts. "I am Venom." And then Ethan knew he was in trouble, very, very big trouble.
In his panicked fleeing, Dimitri barely registered that it sounded like the creature was talking to itself. Or — talking to someone. Maybe Ethan? But Mitya had no idea how that would even make sense — and he didn't have the kind of comic book knowledge Jackson possessed, or any kind of pop culture expertise that could help him identify what the fuck was happening, or even anything about the strange occurrences in San Francisco beyond what he heard through others. None of them had detailed a monster like this, except — Dimitri nearly tripped over himself, staggering and catching himself on the couch as the monster preyed closer to him.He'd seen the footage, of the thing wrecking the piers not too many weeks ago now. But the shape of it was different — it had been smaller then, maybe, not as hulking as the thing standing in front of him. But was that just because Ethan was tall? The cops had called the monster an alien — or something, but nothing more had seemed to come from it. Dimitri, breathing hard and panicked, shifted across the couch as he tried to search for the nearest thing he could use as a weapon. His fingers wrapped around a table lamp next to the couch and he started dragging it towards him, only halting when the thing — introduced itself? But again, not to him.
"I don't really care what your name is," Mitya snapped back. "I'm not food and I— if Ethan's in there, you need to let him out." He cringed at himself. It sounded ridiculous to say it — surely Ethan wasn't... anywhere anymore. Or — no, Dimitri didn't know what to think, and only existed in a realm of very much wanting to get the fuck out of there so he wouldn't end up as dinner, and he hurled the lamp at the creature's face and made a leaping dash for the front door.
This was bad, so bad, worse than anything Ethan could think of at the moment. A psychotic symbiote had attached to him. He didn't think that part of… Eddie would be included. How wrong he was. He did have to wonder why Venom hadn't shown his face before then though. And what exactly had prompted him to make an appearance? There was really no telling. He'd been kissing Dimitri when it happened and he hadn't kissed anyone in quite a while before that, so maybe that was it? But if that was the case, if kissing was what allowed the symbiote freedom to take over Ethan's body… Well, he was going to be downright pissed about that. What do you want? he thought at it, for lack of any other questions to ask. The symbiote probably didn't know any more than Ethan did. "I'm hungry," it said simply, grinning eagerly at Dimitri as he caught himself against the couch..
Okay, so there's dinner in the oven, can't you eat that?
The symbiote sighed heavily. "Why can't I eat him?" It gestured to Dimitri just as the brunette got the bright idea to grab a lamp. It was distracted then by Dimitri talking to it. "He didn't want me to eat you," it said, practically leering before his face fell if that a even an expression it could have. But then Dimitri was throwing the lamp at it and suddenly, it was angry.
Baring its teeth, Venom snarled at Dimitri, once again crouching low in preparation to leap. It caught sight of where Dimitri was heading and it dove across the room almost like a cat with the grace in which it moved. It reached the door before Dimitri did and even as Ethan screamed in its mind, Venom lifted a large hand and slapped Dimitri across the face hard enough to send him flying away from him. "He started it," it said, speaking to Ethan and rationalizing its behavior.
Let him go, or I swear to God I will make sure you never see the light of day again. Ethan didn't know how he'd keep that promise but he meant it. Maybe there was something in Ethan's tone or maybe Venom knew something that Ethan didn't (that maybe it was possible), because in the next minute, Venom was sighing and stepping away from the door so that Dimitri could leave. After he picked himself up that is.
"He wants you to leave," it growled at Dimitri and then gestured with both hands to the door that was now free and clear. And then it was crouching as though in wait, watching Dimitri. Once he was back on his feet, the symbiote lunged for him, cackling. "He's not here though, is he?" Its tongue slithered out in eager anticipation as it leaped at Dimitri.
Mitya's head was spinning, stars exploding in his vision from the blow to his face. He'd dropped hard like a rock, coughing and sputtering and trying to make sense of which way was up and which direction he needed to move to get away. The crack across his face had opened up a cut on the inside of his cheek, sliced against a tooth, and a bit of blood welled up and Dimitri spat it onto the floor, a faint voice at the back of his head a little sorry for the stain, Ethan. But it felt more delirious than anything else, and he'd rolled over and staggered back to his feet, turning his gaze back to the creature at the doorway — now granting him room to leave, apparently? Listening to — Ethan, who had to be somewhere inside it still, somehow, but before Dimitri could make more sense of it any fleeting concept that he'd have free passage to the door was gone in an instant.And so was Dimitri, actually. He'd kept up his training long since his career was over, but Dimitri had never quite moved with this kind of quickness — the same lithe movements he was used to, but — faster. Form just a little better, stronger definitely, a move so instantaneous and immediate he leaped clean out of the path of the incoming Venom, sprung onto his palms on the floor and flipped back over the couch, back the way he'd come, landing on his feet like a cat in a move that would've netted him a perfect score if there were judges watching.
But there weren't — just a huge hulking monster that wanted to make him dinner, and Dimitri wasn't going to stop long enough to let it. "Ethan, where are you?!" He shouted, wincing as the side of his face throbbed, already red and hot and bruising from where Venom had struck him, and in an effort to avoid the creature again he leaped towards the nearest window, moving desperately to unlatch and open it so he could — maybe — squirm out and onto the safety of the fire escape.
Venom had every intention of if not eating Dimitri in entirety, at least gnawing on a limb or something of the sort. It was hungry and it had been unable to bond to anyone again after the first guy. When it had found itself in a car not far from the first guy’s home, it had thought that maybe… But then Ethan resisted bonding to it somehow. It had attached but the bonding wasn’t happening, at least not until now, not until he’d grown a little vulnerable and for all intents and purposes, left himself wide open for the creature to overtake him. Ethan might have wanted it not to feed on Dimitri, but as it had told Dimitri, Ethan wasn’t there, wasn’t in charge of its body. Baring the rows of sharp teeth, it lunged for the man only to pull up short when Dimitri vaulted away from it with surprising agility. The creature’s mouth curved up into a wide, grotesque smile. This was going to be fun.
Instead of launching itself directly at Dimitri, it toyed with him. Pacing along with him as he hurried to the window. There was several feet of space between them and it seemed as though Dimitri would be able to make his escape through the window but then Venom was on him. The creature moved every bit as smoothly as Dimitri had when he had flipped over the couch. “Going so soon?” it taunted as it wrapped a large hand around Dimitri’s upper arm and gripped it tightly.
For a moment, it just held Dimitri captive, unable to withdraw from his strong hold. After him struggling against him for a moment though, it grew frustrated. “Stop fighting me!” And then he gave a hard yank of Dimitri’s arm and then followed up with another slap to the face, this one sending Dimitri flying again, away from the window. Unfortunately, the trajectory was such that the man’s head collided with the corner of the side table from where he’d grabbed the lamp earlier and it was lights out for Dimitri.
Seeing Dimitri on the floor, unmoving silenced Ethan at last, his screams dying out instantly. The silence in his head seemed to startle Venom as the creature tilted its head and spoke aloud to him. “You still there?” Ethan didn’t reply right away, instead willing the creature to look down at Dimitri which it did. He could see his chest rising and falling and knew that he was at least breathing.
Don’t eat him. He was nearly pleading now. Who does Eddie let you eat? Not his friends, I’m sure. That was if Eddie even had any friends.
“Eddie doesn’t like me eating people,” it grumbled. “I won’t eat him,” it finally conceded. “But I’m hungry.” Ethan urged it to leave, to go in search of food outside of his apartment in hopes of drawing it away from Dimitri. After a bit of back and forth, Venom finally agreed to leave the apartment. Ethan had a feeling that it was going to be a very long night.
Dimitri didn't know how much time had passed between when he'd crashed into the table and when he woke, strewn on Ethan's floor, bleeding from a gash to his head. It couldn't have been too long at all, but it felt like hours. He winced, rolled to his side and found that was too painful — getting tossed around like a rag doll hurt when you were only human, and Dimitri was fairly sure he'd bruised a rib, and his head and face wasn't in good shape — he could barely see out of one eye from the bruising and swelling there, and his skull was throbbing. He lay there for a few more moments, breathing ragged, until he jerked with fear that the creature — Venom — was looming over him again.But when he looked, there was nothing there. No creature in the apartment, no noise — just the oven still cooking away. Dimitri swallowed, half tempted to lie down on the floor again to pass out, but he couldn't lie there and wait for the thing to come back, maybe with some seasoning. He didn't know what that meant for Ethan, but Mitya was barely in the kind of shape to help himself, so he gripped onto the edge of the couch and pulled himself into a stand. He'd look back on what he did next and laugh — but it was like autopilot took him back to the kitchen where he turned the oven off and sagged against the counter, looking for his phone, and shakily wrapping his hand around a knife that he could slide into the pocket of his pants, just in case.
He winced around the apartment again, warily, worried — and, seeing nothing, stumbled out the door, down the stairs, and out into the street, where he promptly sank down against the nearest fence on the sidewalk and called himself an ambulance. What the fuck.