Brothers Romanoff [MMF]

19

Within a few days Lev had a trial, was sentenced and hauled off to Hopper's Penitentiary, his home away from home. He shook in anticipation, dressed in his dark blue prison jumpsuit, which he thought, complimented his eyes.

He was assigned his cell, his favorite, all of it arranged by Mikhail.

Mikhail. At least Xiomara was there. At least he wasn't alone. Jean sat up and grinned.

"So you're back, chere?"

Lev chuckled. "And you never left. They denied your parole again?"

Jean shrugged, jumping off the top bunk. "Something about...murdering inmates doesn't represent I've changed and...my sentence is life without parole how do I keep getting hearings before the parole board? Nonsense."

Lev chuckled, putting his hand on the nape of Jean's neck, pressing his forehead against his.

"I thought you would not be back," Jean remarked as Lev pulled away, laying on his bed, putting his arms behind his head. "You said Mikhail would sooner kill you, than let you go."

Lev sighed. "Well...nevertheless here we are."

Jean shrugged. He wasn't gay, actually, and didn't really consider himself bi. But Lev was irresistible, and there was nothing he wouldn't do for him.

"Usually you'd have me on my knees by now. Why the sudden quietness, chere?" Jean remarked, getting up on the top bunk, staring at the ceiling.

Jean was a young man from the Bayou, who's charisma kept him out of jail for a long time—until he'd finally done something he couldn't talk his way out of. He'd been known as a handsome, smoothed lipped thief and if he'd stayed that way, he would've been free.

But he made a mistake.
And he paid for it, with the rest of his life.

"Everything feels different this time," he murmured. "Like this isn't my home anymore. Like the savagery...isn't me anymore."

Jean scoffed. "Ah...doesn't that just mean you grown, chere?"

Len raised his brows. "Grown into what?"

Jean leaned down from his bunk, swamp green eyes piercing. "A man. You're growing from a monster into a man. Regular ole' beauty and the beast shit, chere. Tale as old as time."

Jean and Lev had a silent understanding. Lev had the power to get Jean out, and Jean knew that. But Jean was his husband inside, Lev expected he stay inside, waiting, until he came to see him, to love him in a way, for however long and then leave. It was cruel, but so was Lev.

The love Lev had for him was not compared to his adored Mikhail. Mikhail was something akin to an Angel to Lev, not to be spoken of except in passing when he was there.

Jean licked his lips. "If you are not coming back after this...will you help me leave?"

Lev smiled and nodded, raising his hand, cupping Jean's cheek. "Yes. You're going home? Back to the bayou?"

Jean shook his head. "Nothing left for there. I don't know where I'll go."

Lev sighed. "I can't stay here long. I've got to go back soon. So we can start over, Mikhail and Xiomara and I."

Jean had words on the tip of his tongue that he wanted to scream. For however cruel and he was cruel—people couldn't help but love Lev for some reason. Jean swallowed roughly.

"You know I—"

Lev's blue eyes pierced him. He looked away.

"You coming back is like the end of the world, Lev Romanoff. We missed ya, chere." He settled on quietly his words fizzling out.

Lev didn't comment. He knew how Jean felt. It was obvious, and reading people was his strong suit.

"I could never," Lev started. "Love someone other than Mikhail, unless he told me it was okay. We fuck other people. We don't love other people."

"Then who's Xiomara?" Jean asked ruefully.

Lev glanced away. "An exception."

Jean swallowed his words. Why couldn't he be the exception. But it didn't matter. He lived most of his life without Lev. He'd die without Lev. It would be fine. It would hurt...but it would be fine.

"You're important to me. You're a friend. One of the only I have," Lev smiled. "Da?"

Jean leaned back and smiled sadly. "Yeah, chere. Whatever you say."

They lay in silence for a bit.

"You know they'll be gunning for ya when ya go out there. I hope you haven't completed your transformation into a man just yet,"

Lev grinned. "Not just yet."

"I'm thinking of letting it all go."

Lev closed his eyes, slowing his heartbeat.

"After you leave this time." Jean finished.

Lev licked his lips. "Oh?"

"I don't think I want to spend my life here. I don't think I want to leave either. All I know now. Think this trip'll be goodbye for us, Chere."

Lev swallowed and nodded. "If that's what you want. I won't stop you."

Pain tinged at the ends of Jean's mouth making them lift in a twisted form of a smile. "I know you won't."

"But I'll get you out. If you let me. Next time I see Mikhail I'll get him to arrange it."

"My mother cursed me last time she saw me. Said the Devil got hold to me. I was no longer her son. She...died. Never say nothing to me again," Jean smiled. "See...even if you get me out...I ain't got nothing to go home to."

Lev stared at the stained bunk bed in his vision.

"You can make a home. Well out you up—"

"I can't." I can't see you in love. I can't see you be the man I always wanted to see. I get the beast. He gets the man. But he didn't say any of that. "Anyway...just thinkin' bout it."

Lev stood, putting his hands on the bars. "I'll get you a candle."

"Oh?"

He nodded. "For your mother."

Jean smiled, his eyes shining. "...Thanks, Chere."