#nikto fluff

When Nikto admitted he was married, most of the team didn't know what to think. No one was sure Nikto would be a good husband, nor that his spouse was in the relationship willingly. Nikto did mention something being arranged, it wasn't completely out of the picture.

So one could imagine the shock the team felt when they found Nikto bending down slightly to be closer to someone's face. That someone being none other than his spouse.

You had your hand on his arm, he didn't pull away. As you spoke his whole attention was on you, only you. His eyes were intense as they gazed into every crevice of your being. He examined your face, new stress lines that showed up, the furrow in your brows, the crinkles near your eyes. He saw it all, kept tabs on it all, made sure any deviation from the status quo was for good, not bad.

You kept speaking, he listened. Soon your hand trailed down his arm, taking his hand and lacing your fingers together. He leaned in ever so slightly, squeezing your hand.

He leans in and presses his mask against your cheek. Most would call it a pathetic excuse for a kiss, he's just nuzzling fabric against your face like a mutt. But it was from him, and that made it special. It was more than the team had ever seen from him before.

When the two of you eventually pull away you flash him one last smile. His eyes crinkle, something akin to crows feet start to develop by his eyes. He'd probably never have crow's feet without you, you've changed him in ways he couldn't have predicted. As you step away your hands linger connected. As you continue walking away, he makes sure to watch until you're completely out of sight.

It's safe to say Nikto has been perceived as more approachable since the team caught him being so husband-like with you. He got teased more often, but since it was about you, he'd just dismiss it with a grunt. He'd never admit it, but any mention of you, even a passing moment, were welcome and appreciated in Nikto's life.

Nikto had in general turns much calmer, more relaxed. His episodes were starting to get easier to get over, he's been keeping up with his habits and hygiene better. When he'd come home he'd seek you out first, but now it wasn't because you helped him stay sane, stay managed. You just made it easier.

He's becoming better now, more human now, he'd say. He's not constantly berating himself for "evil" thoughts, he's getting them less and less. The voices are quieter, and they're starting to work together as a unit. Nikto knows for sure that every version of himself in his head loves you completely. He has no doubt that the two of you were made for one another.

Nikto hadn't ever believed in soulmates. For some part of his life he doubted love was even real. You were forced into his life when he felt he could have nothing and to this day he thanked whatever deities you believed in that they put you in his life.

Now he's not forced to take leaves from work, he plans them around the holidays, anniversaries, and your birthday. Recently, after you insisted, he started taking leave on his birthday too. It was something worth celebrating now, even if it's just to see how giddy you get as he opens the gift you got him.

Whatever resembles a smile, he does it now. When he comes home, when he zones out and thinks of you, when you randomly bring him lunch. He knows it's a long trip for you, and yet you still insist to come. Your lunches taste like heaven compared to the base kitchen, Nikto feels his chest tighten every time he thinks about it.

You make him soft, not just your cooking but how you treat him too. Anytime you reach out first he leans in. At first he'd feel guilty he wasn't the first to touch you, he felt like you put so much effort into being close, and anytime you touched him first it meant he failed at meeting your effort. Eventually he'd learned to give effort in other ways, and your touches felt better to receive.

It has turned his attempts at affection rough and not calculated whenever he'd reach out. He'd grab your arm roughly to pull you closer, afraid you'll bump into something 5 feet away. He'd bump his head into yours, the harder he did the more he was sure it meant something. You scolded him for rattling your brains like that, but it was only after you assured him that you felt it each time did he turn gentler with it.

Nikto's affection is quiet, he almost never speaks praise or compliments. He stares at you all the time, that's as close to a compliment that he can give you. He leaves notes and gifts all around the house, in fact.

"the soup was really good" he'd write in his scratchy handwriting, the pencil being too delicate for his rough hand.

"The new curtains are nice." he'd add, sticking the sticky note right on the clean new curtains. Sticky notes were everywhere, little gems of appreciation. You wondered if he'd only communicate by writing if he could, but he didn't. Executive matters like visits to the grocery store were met with annoyed eye rolls and a "fine, whatever. Don't take too long" as he already gathers his keys and wallet, throws on the jacket he always wears because you got it for him.

In the grocery store he'd hold your hand tight, almost too tight. Near the freezers he'd make sure you're not too cold, he carries the grocery basket, he pays for the groceries on the condition that you talk to the cashier, and he'd make sure to sneak in the treat you've been eyeing. It used to be impossible for Nikto to grocery shop, he was too awkward to talk to the cashier despite the rehearsed script in his head, he kept scaring other shoppers. He'd glare at anyone who annoyed him.

But now he had the prettiest spouse to keep by his side, to negate the terror he'd cause. You'd give him little kisses in public, you'd gush over any pets you saw, you'd hold up your favorite foods with excitement, and Nikto would do nothing besides observe you, and smile under his mask.

Nikto sat in a booth with Krueger, König, and Horangi, the usual bunch to be found off to the side during one of these after-mission bar nights. Krueger was going on about a close call he had, occasionally taking a swig from the beer bottle in his hand before continuing to rave to an uninterested König and Horangi, who wasn't even listening at this point. It gets to the point where Horangi sighs, and as he starts to pull out a deck of cards, Nikto slides out of the booth.

“I almost forgot you were there, Bruder.” A sly smirk tugs its way onto his face, taking another drink as he leans forward onto the table.

“You talk too much.” Nikto rasps, waving a hand dismissively at Horangi holding up a card, silently asking if he was joining in or not.

Nikto begins walking to the back exit, ignoring whatever Krueger had shouted to him while he left. He shoulders the door open, grabbing a cigarette from the box in his pocket. The door slowly shuts and he’s about to undo the clasps holding his mask up but pauses when he realizes there's other people in this alley.

He narrows his eyes, watching the two standing off to the side. Neither had noticed him yet, so it gave him a clear opportunity to assess what the hell was happening.

There was a man cornering someone against a wall and definitely not with good intentions. Nikto couldn't make out most of what he was saying from where he stood, but it was obvious he was drunk. The person being kept against the wall glared at him hard, pushing against the man to keep his hands from wandering anywhere near them. The man takes a sip of his beer, smirking and leaning in.

Before Nikto can step forward and interrupt, the man says something that apparently pisses off the stranger enough for them to shove him hard. He watches as the man tries to recover, but can’t as the stranger throws a punch straight for his face before he's able to properly regain his balance, catching a part of their hand on his teeth. He stumbles, grabbing onto the wall with his free hand as the stranger shakes out theirs, a bit of blood sliding down. They throw another punch with their other hand, but the creep steps closer, ducking it enough for their hit to miss and scrape the bricks instead. The stranger backs up and clenches their fists, getting some space between them as the man points with one finger, still holding the beer bottle he was drinking from.

“You fucking--” The stranger jolts forward and yanks the bottle out from his hand, smacking him upside the head with it. The man falls backwards, holding the side of his face. The stranger steps over the man, pulling him close by the collar of his shirt, adjusting their grip to hold it with one hand. Their blood from accidentally breaking skin manages to drip down onto his collar.

“Fuck-” They smack him right where they had just hit him with the bottle. The stranger practically spits the word out, staring down the man. 

“You.” They backhand him now on the other cheek. “You’re a disgusting excuse of a man for thinking it's okay to treat someone like that.”

They slam him down back onto the ground, pushing themself up to stand again. They adjust their clothes and turn around, about to leave the alley before suddenly freezing up.

Nikto and the stranger hold eye contact, the stranger having not realized there was someone else here and Nikto borderline having forgotten that he was here himself, watching this go down, in real time. 

They tense -- as one reasonably would. It’s not everyday that after you beat up a really weird guy in an alley that another really weird looking guy shows up behind you, having watched that all go down. Their fists clench, pulling on the freshly opened cuts on their knuckles. Nikto’s gaze follows their movements with an uncaring air about him.

“You have something there.” He motions to their bloody knuckles, still holding the cigarette.

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You stand opposite the random man, shoulders drawn in as you eye him up. He was looking at you with a really strange look in his gaze, one you couldn’t quite place but it felt softer than it should be. At least it wasn’t the type of stare that the man was giving you before.

You look down at your knuckles, brushing off a bit of the blood starting to pool. By the time you look back up, the stranger had stepped forward. You move to step away, but he reaches for you, softly grabbing your hand. He flicks the cigarette out of his other and leans down, brushing your hand against the cloth covering the mask on his face. You frown, lightly tugging your hand away, but he tightens his grip just slightly, looking up at you.

“Волчонок, we think you should get inside before it gets too cold. Would not want to be out here shivering, да?” Your eyes narrow at his words.

“What are you playing at?” His eyes squint slightly, returning your narrowed gaze. 

“So fierce, Волчонок.” His Russian accent adds a bit of bluntness to the otherwise teasing remark. The stranger stands up fully, taking a glance over at the creep that was bothering you just moments ago, still on the ground. The only sound the man makes is a quiet groan. “We do not have the same intentions as him. Now, come.”

He pulls you towards him and lets go of your hand, instead placing his hand gently on your shoulder. The stranger begins to walk out of the alley, making sure you were walking with him.

“What- I don't even know your name?” You protest and stop in place, resulting in the stranger looking back to you.

“Nikto.”

“Nikto?” He stands a bit taller when you respond, looking at you with that weird look again. He nods once, tilting his head to the side a bit. He stares heavily at you, blinking once when you give him your name in return.

“You are beautiful, мой волк.” The words seem to spill out of him, but he doesn’t stop them. You stand there, confused.

This guy just saw me beat someone up and he’s calling me beautiful?

“... Thank you?” Nikto begins to pull you forward again, hardly sparing a glance backwards.

“Да. Now, you will show me to your house.” He pauses again and stops beside you, expecting you to begin leading the way.

“Excuse me?” With a glare now aimed at him, you pull your shoulder away from him. “I’m not bringing you to my house.”

“Surely you would not prefer mine?” Nikto’s head tilts again, a bit like a bird would. 

“I’d prefer being left alone over some random guy trying to get me alone with him!” 

“We do not want you dealing with something like that-” He nods to the alley. “Again. Not safe all alone.”

“I think it’s more than clear that I can take care of myself.” You take a step away from him, but Nikto is quick to close the gap you’re trying to make.

“You should not have to.” You opened your mouth to reply back, but his words made you stop, and so you shut it. You look him up and down, furrowed brows clueing him in on your confusion. You weigh over the pros and cons in your head while Nikto stands there, staring at you heavily again.

Either I risk bringing this guy to my house and him knowing where I live, or I risk going to his house and him kidnapping me… or something.

“We have no intention of doing anything to you, Волчонок. The thought is sickening.“

You look at him for a beat longer and sigh.

“My place isn’t that far.” You begin to walk onwards, and with the footsteps audibly following behind you, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to leave you alone that easily.

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He walks you home the rest of the way, not once straying away, nor does he once try to do anything to you. He follows about a step or two behind, his attention split between watching you and watching your surroundings, like he was expecting someone to jump out and attack.

“You’re really quiet.” You fall into step with him, though keep your head facing forward.

You can see him look at you from your peripherals, remaining quiet for a beat before answering.

“We do not have anything to say.” He falls a step behind when you step closer to let someone pass, then remains at pace with you after.

“No questions? Nothing about what happened back there?” You finally look at him, giving him another curious glance.

“There is nothing to say. You had a fair reason.” As he speaks, you turn the corner onto your street and you stop, facing him. He stops as well, the streetlight casting a soft light over his hard mask.

“I’m sure you don’t need to walk me to my doorstep.”

The two of you stare each other down, you refusing to bring him to your house and him refusing to leave you to walk alone.

“No.”, is all he replies with.

You stare at him, hoping he’ll look away before you do, but you blink and groan anyway before continuing on. He follows you down the sidewalk.

You step up to your house, reaching for your keys in your pocket while Nikto steps up behind you, not leaving a lot of room between you two. You side-eye him over your shoulder, but say nothing as you unlock and open your door, stepping forward into the doorway. You turn, one hand at your side as the other half shuts the door behind you.

“Look. I’m home safe and sound.” Nikto doesn’t look like he’s quite yet done, having taken a step closer to your front door.

“Rude not to invite your guest inside.” He remarks.

“You’re not my guest--” You cut yourself off as Nikto puts a hand on your door, pushing it open without much preamble. He steps in, taking a quick look around before half turning to you.

“Where is a medkit?”

You glare and shut the door, not finding it in you to attempt to beat up another guy. Nikto looks a little too well built to attempt regardless. You toe off your shoes, giving him a quick look, enough of a glare to get him to do the same. You say nothing as you head further into the house, grabbing your first aid kit and bringing it back to where Nikto now stood in the kitchen.

“Sit.” He points to a chair pulled out from the dining table, taking the kit from your hand. Nikto puts it down and grabs a towel, wetting it under the sink before returning to you.

He kneels down, and as gently as he did earlier, he grabs one of your hands and brings it closer to him. He brings the damp towel to your split knuckles to wipe away the blood half dried on them. His eyes dart up to yours when you breathe in a little too harshly, causing him to immediately soften the pressure he’s using to clean.

After wiping your knuckles, he does the same to your other hand and opens the first aid kit provided. You reach over and hand him the Neosporin, to which he responds by giving you a slight glare as he grabs it, his blue eyes illuminated against the shadows surrounding them. They were piercing, just like almost everything else about him -- besides the way he treated you. Despite being built like how he is and his obviously less than favorable attitude towards other people, he treated you not like something fragile, but something to be cared for, like a child would care for their favorite stuffed toy or how one would care for their loved ones. It’s almost comical how he treats you, considering he’s not even known you for a full night and his first interaction with you was in the back of an alley where you were punching a creep for harassing someone.

He looked almost like death incarnate, yet held your hand like you were a light shining through the darkness.

You huff quietly. What a light you were.

Nikto’s head lifts from what he was doing at the sound, hands pausing from placing bandages.

“What amuses you?” He asks, his raspy voice quiet and his thick accent softer.

“Nothing.” You shake your head.

He narrows his eyes, but goes back to what he was doing.

He smooths the bandages over your knuckles, ensuring that everything is covered. Nikto then leans his head down, his covered forehead resting against your fingers.

“Do not injure yourself like this again.” He murmurs.

“It wasn’t my intention to get these.” You flex your hand a little, testing his grip once more.

“Да, but let us sleep easy knowing you are safe.” Nikto moves his head so now it is his masked lips against your hand, pressing a bit into you before doing the same to the other hand. He remains kneeling, holding both of your hands in one of his own as he gazes up at your sitting form. 

Maybe this guy wasn’t so bad, especially not if he keeps looking at you like you hung the moon and stars just for him.