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Chapter Text

”Alexander?”

Alexander has just ordered his first drink of the evening at a well-known London gay bar when he hears the question. The voice behind him seems hesitant and surprised, like a fan who has just recognized their idol in an unexpected place, but it is not that of a fan. Alexander recognizes the voice immediately, and even after five years his body reacts with butterflies in his stomach. He composes himself in a second and turns around with a surprised smile. “Kevin?!”

And there he is, after almost five years, after many late nights filled with regrets and what-ifs, and occasionally also drunken Instagram stalking. The tall figure of Kevin Swain is standing in front of him, his lean body stylishly clad in a well-fitting black outfit with artistic details, as always. He has a short beard now, a change from the usual 5 o’clock shadow that Alexander is used to seeing (and touching). He looks perhaps slightly older, a bit more mature, but, if possible, even hotter than before (and Alexander’s body agrees). Alexander notices Kevin’s eyes do a quick scan of his outfit and body, the gaze lingering on his chest and bare abs for a moment before quickly glancing away, like he is afraid of being caught doing something he shouldn’t. Alexander is suddenly happy that he is not wearing a shirt under his blazer tonight, just like in the old days. He knows that despite the five years that have passed, his body looks just as good as back then.

Alexander greets him with kisses on both cheeks, and Kevin reciprocates, although more reservedly. He still wears the same cologne, which floods Alexander with memories. The beard feels different against his own stubble. He wants to comment on it, but is afraid it might sound too flirty, and the last thing he wants to do is to scare Kevin away now, especially since the other man still seems to take this encounter somewhat less enthusiastically than himself.

And who can blame him, really. The way he used to lead this man on, time and time again! They would meet at Eurovision, or at related industry events, or later sometimes just for a booty call. First it was just flirtation, but eventually they had started hooking up, first occasionally and then more regularly. They would have amazing sex, cuddle, and often for a day or two afterwards they would privately play at being a couple, until he would flee back to Russia, either for genuine commitments or spooked by his own feelings and their growing closeness. Kevin’s brown eyes had grown more desperate with each good-bye, and Alexander had absolutely known that by the end of it the other man had been helplessly in love.

The end had finally come after the Eurovision in Edinburgh. He didn’t know if it was an active decision on Kevin’s part, or just a coincidence, but Kevin had moved to the US for some projects, and then stayed there when the pandemic started. It had been a hit on the whole industry, and then, afterwards, Alexander’s career had faced an even worse set-back with the Russian invasion of Ukraine. He was horrified of what was happening with his country, and the realization of what he would need to support to continue his success in Russia had hit hard. He had refused to speak in support of the “special operation”, and in the end that had been as good as a death sentence for his career in Russia, at least for now. Finally, he had left the country, trying to rebuild his career in Europe, but it was difficult, since the momentum of the Eurovision win had been lost during the lockdowns. Kevin had stayed in America, and they had not kept in touch. Alexander had sometimes tried, but all his messages had been left on read. He had stopped altogether after the news he had heard from Sigrit.
It had been a couple of years earlier, after the pandemic, when the world was opening up and people were excited to travel again. It was one of his regular catch-up video calls with Sigrit, to hear how they were doing in Iceland and to see how the toddler was growing. Sigrit had been so happy to announce that they were going on a family vacation to the USA, excitedly blabbering about their holiday plans.

“And we are going to meet Kevin Swain as well, we will have dinner with him and..,” Suddenly Sigrit had stopped and bit her lip.

“That sounds amazing, Sigrit! How is Kevin?”, he had tried to sound nonchalant, like they were discussing any shared acquaintance.

“Alexander, he… He is doing great, he is very successful. And… He has a partner, Mark. They’ve been together for a while already. They have a house together. Alexander, I’m sorry.” She had looked miserable.

Alexander had forced a smile. “Don’t worry Sigrit! It’s not like he’s an ex or anything.” And saying that had actually stung the most. He did not even have the privilege of calling Kevin an ex, because he had always refused to admit they had a relationship of any kind. And he was happy for Kevin, or at least tried to be, for getting something he was never able to offer: a stable and public long-term relationship. But when a few weeks later Sigrit posted a happy video from the dinner in Instagram, where he could see Kevin in the background with his arm over another man’s shoulders, he had taken his private jet to Greece, where he had turned up at Mita’s doorstep with a bottle of vodka, and the evening had ended with him drunkenly crying on Mita’s shoulder.

Because the truth, the truth that he had realized far too late, was that even though he had kept telling Kevin they were only casual, he had wanted more. It had just not been possible. And when the pandemic hit, and he found himself alone in his palace (or any of his palaces, the travel restrictions did not concern private jets), with no tours or parties, he realized how alone he was, and what he had so flippantly and carelessly enjoyed and then thrown aside, again and again. He had spent many nights regretting his decisions, thinking about what he could have done differently (so many things!). Five years ago he had made a choice between his career in Russia and the future he could have had with Kevin, and here he was now, five years later, with neither of those. So when he now hears the familiar voice say his name, everything comes flooding back: the memories, the regrets, the suppressed feelings. He is genuinely happy to see Kevin, but he also understands why Kevin may not fully share that feeling.

“What are you doing here?”, he asks, smiling, as he picks up his drink.

“I think the question is what are you doing here of all places? You know this used to be one of my regular haunts.” Kevin looks around. “Are you here…alone?!” He looks incredulous.

Alexander shrugs. Kevin is right; five years ago he would have never been caught alone in a gay bar. Perhaps with the security provided by a group of friends, yes, he might enjoy some dancing and drinks, but alone in a gay club? It would have effectively been the same as outing himself. Now, what does he have to lose? His face is not as well known here as it was five years ago, and maybe a Russian or a Eurovision fan could recognize him, but it doesn’t really make a difference anymore. His career in Russia is in shambles anyway. “Things have changed”, he says. And then, “But why are you here? In London? Work?”

“…Yes.” Is there a moment of hesitation in the answer? “Came here with some friends, but they…” Kevin glances at a couple that is kissing passionately on the dance floor. “…Seem to have found other things to do already.”
“But this is great! I am so happy to see you!” Alexander has a thousand things he wants to talk to Kevin about, but perhaps this bar is not the best place for those conversations. “I really want to hear how you are doing! I have a new penthouse, not far from here. Very nice place! Maybe we can go there to catch up?”

Kevin looks uncomfortable, he shifts on his feet and looks away. “Alex”, he says softly. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.”

The nickname from his lips sounds so familiar, so right. He is Sasha to everyone in Russia, but to Kevin he has always been Alex. Then Alexander realizes what his suggestion must sound like, particularly in this environment. “Oh! Oh no!” He laughs. “I did not mean… I want to talk to you! I know you have a partner, don’t worry. I want to hear all about it, and your career!” Kevin still does not look convinced, so Alexander adds “Come on, you know I am a gentleman!” and winks.

Something in the wall Kevin has built between them seems to crack. “Not so sure about that,” he says and grins. Then he takes another look at the couple on the dance floor. “Yeah, OK. It’s not like they will miss me, and I wasn’t really in the mood for clubbing tonight anyway.”

Alexander places his drink, still half-full, on the bar. “Okay, this great! Let’s go!”

“Do we need to… leave separately?”, Kevin asks, and it both warms Alexander’s heart and breaks it. The things he made this man do, just because he was afraid, and the way he still offers to do them for his sake.

“No, is OK”, he says. “As I said, things are different now.”

Chapter Text

Alexander unlocks the door to his penthouse apartment. He has purchased it a couple of years prior, but has only really started to spend time in it recently. It is small enough not to require regular staff, although he has a private chef come in to prepare meals regularly, and of course a cleaner. He walks in and spreads his arms. “Welcome to my crib!”, he grins.

Kevin steps in and looks around at the antiques, gilding and brocade covering the apartment. “You have the same taste as before.”

Alexandar can’t help himself. “I do”, he says softly, looking at Kevin, who quickly looks away and is suddenly very interested in looking at everything, or anything, else.

“You should do something more modern with it”, he says.

Alexander shrugs. “It is only me living here, so I can decorate how I want.”

It looks like Kevin is about to say something, but then doesn’t. Alexander feels like they are on thin ice, both very careful in this discussion, waiting for something to crack and reveal everything under the surface. It makes him sad. He misses the easy companionship and laughter they used to share, but perhaps they just have too much history.

“You sit on the sofa, I will bring champagne,” he says. Surely it will help with the tension. He picks up two glasses and a bottle of his favorite bubbly, and brings them to the sofa. He pours two glasses, gives one to Kevin, and sits at the other end of the sofa, facing him.

Kevin sips from his glass. “I haven’t had this one for years.”

“Really?”, Alexander is surprised. “Why? Is good champagne, the best!”

“Too many memories, I guess”, he says, looking at Alexander. And then, to quickly change the subject: “Not usually offered either. Not like many people can afford it.”

Alexander looks at Kevin’s outfit again, all very artistic but all clearly designer. “But you can?”

Kevin shrugs. “Maybe. If I wanted to.” He looks around the living room they are sitting in. “So you live here now?”

“Here. And in my other places. But not in Russia. Kevin, I cannot go back to Russia now.”

Kevin looks sympathetic. “I’m sorry, Alex.”

Alexander sighs. “I have no career in Russia anymore. To be successful I need to say things I don’t want to say, to support things I don’t support. I can’t do that. So I am here. Some success, but nothing like in Russia.”

“And..” Kevin seems hesitant on how to word the next question. “Is that how I can now find you alone in a gay bar?”

“Yeees. I mean, what is the risk now? That my career in Russia is over?” Alexander gives a bitter laugh. “But I am not out. I have not made any big announcement. It is just that I care less if someone sees me.” He looks at his champagne. “Perhaps I cared too much, earlier,” he says and looks at Kevin. Kevin has a pained expression on his face, and Alexander regrets his words immediately. “I’m sorry, Kevin, I know you have a partner and…”

Kevin interrupts him. “But you don’t?”

Alexander looks away. “Is not easy in this business. I think you know. I have just finished touring. It doesn’t work well with a partner. It would need to be someone who understands the industry. And...” Alexander realizes the irony of his next statement. “…They mostly want it to be casual. No relationships, just friends with benefits.” He grimaces. “I’m sorry, Kevin.”

Kevin looks amused. “No, I quite enjoy hearing that from you, Mr. Don’t-call-me-see-you-at-the-next-ESC. Just desserts, and all that.”

Alexander gives a lopsided smile, happy that he is at least finally getting something out of Kevin. “Fair enough.” He downs the rest of his champagne and fills both of their glasses again. “So is your partner in the industry, or…?”

Kevin rests his head back on the sofa. “God, Alex, please stop saying that.”

Alexander is confused. “What?”

“Partner.” He raises his head and looks at Alexander. “Alex, there is no partner.”

“But Sigrit said… And I saw the video…”

Kevin rolls his eyes. “Yes, obviously there was. For a long time. But there isn’t one now.” He sighs. “We broke up a couple of months ago.”

“Oh. Oh, I’m so sorry Kevin.” Alexander is sympathetic, or at least tries to be, but at the same time there is only one thing filling his brain right now. Kevin is single. Kevin Swain is single and in his apartment, sitting on his sofa, drinking his champagne. Kevin is single, and he does not have a career in Russia to care about. He wants to shout “This is great!”. He wants to jump on the sofa like Tom Cruise. He doesn’t.

“What happened?”, he asks, to hide his elation at this piece of news.

Kevin swirls the champagne in his glass, staring at it. “We just wanted different things, in the end. At first I was just so happy to have someone who…” He raises his gaze to Alexander momentarily. “…Didn’t run away. Who wanted to stay. And Mark is not in the industry, he has a regular office job. It worked great in the beginning, especially during the pandemic. I had lots of projects locally, music videos and such, and the money in the US is good. He was excited to get a glimpse of the entertainment industry, the parties with celebrities and so on. We bought a house. But then the world started opening up again, I started to travel more for projects internationally and things changed. He wanted something more stable, for me to be around more, and I can understand that, but that is not our industry as you said.”

Alexander thinks about this. “But you look happy in Sigrit’s video!”

Kevin sighs and sips his drink. “That is actually when the problems started. He loved seeing them as a family, he started talking about having children.” He looks up with pain in his eyes. “Alex, can you imagine me in an American suburb with kids? That is not me!”

Alexander knows this to be true. Kevin is not someone for the suburbia. He is one for the cities, art galleries, music shows, gay clubs.

“It just became increasingly clear that we wanted different things. I didn’t even work on any Eurovision projects for the past years, because we were trying to make it work. And I missed Eurovision so much. So much. In the end there was no other solution, so we finally ended it. I took my things and moved back here a few weeks ago, accepted some projects in Europe. So here I am now.” Kevin downs his champagne and Alexander fills their glasses again.

“Well, I am happy you are here”, Alexander says and allows a small smile come through. “Back in London. ‘I enjoy nights in Brixton, Shoreditch in the afternoon’”, he hums.

Kevin grimaces. “Oh please, not that song!”

“Why not? You don’t like Taylor?”

“Mark’s a Swiftie. And…Wait, let me show you.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and scrolls until he finds something. “Look!”

It’s an Instagram post from an account called markjcoll from a couple of weeks earlier. There’s a photo of some moving boxes, overlaid with the text “Back in my hot single guy era”. Below it the caption reads “After four years my London Boy decided he loves London more than me, and f*cked off to Shoreditch in the afternoon or something. ‘I don’t have to be your shrink to know that you’ll never be happy / And I bet you think about me.’” Alexander makes a face.

“Read the comments,” Kevin says.

Alexander presses on the comment icon. The top one says “Queen, the trash took itself out!”, and below that someone else has replied with “Eurotrash”, and then the next one “Eurovisiontrash, you mean”. All comments have several likes.

“This is mean!” Alexander hands the phone back. “Kevin, why you read this?”

“Those are our friends. Or I guess his friends now.” He pockets the phone.

“I am sorry, Kevin.” Alexander touches Kevin’s knee as a sign of sympathy, lets his hand linger for a while longer than necessary. “It must be hard for you. Bu I am happy we met today.” He sips from his glass. “So these projects you mention, maybe Eurovision this year?”

Kevin grins. “Yes.”

“Ooh, which country?”

“Several.” Kevin looks smug.

“Oh, that is wonderful! I am happy for you!”. Alexander raises his glass to Kevin before drinking more. The champagne is already giving him a nice buzz. He looks at Kevin, and Kevin looks at him, and there is definitely a moment, until Kevin turns his eyes away and puts his empty glass on the table next to them.

But Alexander is encouraged now. “I really like the beard”, he says, and raises his hand to caress Kevin’s chin. “It suits you.”

And Kevin does not move away, but looks at Alexander in a way that he hasn’t seen for five years, but that used to be so familiar. The gaze is full of lust, and definitely an invitation. Alexander puts his own glass away and leans closer to kiss Kevin, and the other man responds immediately. In a second they are kissing passionately. Kevin pulls him closer, and Alexander moves to his lap to straddle him. Panting and kissing, they start pulling each others’ blazers off. Kevin’s thumbs are brushing Alexander’s nipples, and his own hands are removing Kevin’s shirt. He is already hard, and Kevin’s erection is pressing on him deliciously. Alexander grinds against it, kissing his neck, and Kevin makes an involuntary noise.

“Alex”, he pants. “Fuck me. Fuck me like you used to!”

This makes Alexander even harder. “You naughty boy!”, he purrs into Kevin’s ear, the words he has used so many times in this situation. Then he stands up and takes Kevin’s hand. “Come!”.

He leads Kevin to his bedroom where they hastily get rid of the remaining clothes, kissing and groping. It is all so familiar and so perfect. They both still remember exactly how to make each other moan, and when Alexander finally enters Kevin, it is everything he remembered and more. He thrusts, and Kevin takes it as well as always, moaning louder with each thrust, begging for more. It is almost too good, he knows he can’t take it much longer, and then Kevin moans “Alex, I will…”, and Alexander lets go. And as Kevin cums, moaning and shuddering, Alexander also cums, explosively, roaring Kevin’s name.

They collapse next to each other on the bed.

“We still got it,” Kevin grins.

Alexander chuckles. “Yes, we do!”

Chapter Text

Alexander wakes up naked between sticky sheets. He can’t suppress a smile as the memories of the night come back to him. Kevin is still sleeping next to him, lying on his stomach, his face turned towards Alexander. The room is filled with light, and Alexander glances around for his phone to check the time, but he has left it in the living room. He doesn’t want to wake Kevin, so he settles down to watch the sleeping man, inspecting his beautiful features. Perhaps they can wake up like this every morning from now on?

Kevin stirs and opens his eyes. Seeing Alexander he freezes, face confused, clearly trying to understand where he is. Alexander expects a blissful smile to take over any moment now, and is about to purr a good morning, when instead he sees Kevin’s expression turn from confusion to horrified realization.

“No! Oh no!”, Kevin groans and buries his head in his pillow. “Oh fuck!”

This reaction takes Alexander completely by surprise. What is this? He reaches his hand to touch Kevin’s shoulder. “Kevin?”

Kevin’s head is still buried in the pillow. “Don’t touch me, Alex!”, he snaps, and Alexander pulls his hand away, hurt.

“But what is wrong?”

Kevin groans in the pillow, and then turns to his back, covering his face with his hands. “What is wrong is that I’m a fucking idiot!” He takes a couple of deep breaths as if to steady himself, then lowers his hands and turns his head to look at Alexander. “Alex, last time it took a move across the Atlantic, a worldwide pandemic and a long-term relationship to get over you. And now I am single and back in London for literally five minutes, and the first thing I do after a few drinks is jump back into bed with you.” He covers his face with his hands again. “Fuuuck!”

Alexander doesn’t know how to react. “Kevin, is understandable, who can resist me?”, he quips.

Kevin turns to look at him again, his brown eyes blazing. “Not funny, Alex!”

All Alexander manages is a sheepish “Sorry!”. He reaches his hand out again but is stopped by a warning look from Kevin. “Why can I not touch you?”

“Because we are in your bed, naked. If you touch me now, we’ll be fucking again in five minutes!”

Alexander grins. “You promise?”

Kevin glares at him and then turns to stare at the ceiling. “Alex…” He sighs. “Alex, you broke my heart. You broke my heart over and over again. And I allowed you to. I kept coming back, knowing that nothing will actually change. It was a toxic cycle, and I finally got out of it when I moved.” He turns to look at Alexander again. “And now I’m here.” He rubs his face with his hands. “God, my therapist is going to have a field day with this!”

Alexander does not know what to say, so all he says is “Therapist?”

“Yes, Alex, everyone in the US has a therapist, and mine knows much too much about you already!”

“Oh.”

Kevin sighs again. “Listen, Alex, the things is… I have never been able to resist you. Never. From the first time you winked at me. Do you know why I slept with you, that first time in Stockholm? Because I thought it might get you out of my system. Obviously it didn’t. It backfired massively. And…” He seems to hesitate for a second, but then continues. “And the truth is that one of the reasons why Mark and I didn’t work out is you. Well, not you, me. My inability to get over you. He didn’t know who you were, but knew that I had my heart broken by someone recently before we got together, and what had happened. And the main reason I haven’t been to Eurovision since is that he knew it was someone in the Eurovision circles, and he didn’t want me to travel there alone, because he thought I would not be able to stay away from you. We had so many fights about it.” He turns to look at Alexander again, with deep sadness in his eyes. “And you know what? Now I think he was right.”

“Kevin, I think that is not true.”

Kevin shakes his head. “I thought I would have never cheated on him. But look at yesterday: within half an hour of meeting you I was already here. And all you had to do was compliment me on my beard, and I begged you to fuck me. Alex… I can’t start this all over again. I’ve just broken up, I can’t handle your games again. Not right now, and maybe not ever.”

I can’t start this all over again. Not right now, and maybe not ever. The words shatter Alexander’s heart to million pieces. And the worst thing is that he knows Kevin has the right to say this. He treated the other man so badly, and Kevin owes him nothing just because he has come to realize it.

“I’m sorry”, is all he manages to say.

“I think I should leave.” Kevin sits up and turns to look at him. His eyes wander downwards until he snaps his head around to look at the room instead. “God, Alex, why are you still so hot? It’s been five years, how do you even still look the same!”

Alexander shrugs. “Gym. Diet.” He smiles lopsidedly. “Money.” At least Kevin still clearly has problems resisting him.

“It was a rhetorical question.” Kevin gets up and starts to gather his clothes and dress up. Alexander watches him in silence, disappointed and his heart aching. Kevin disappears to the living room to find his shirt. After a second he emerges back to the doorway, now with his shirt on, carrying his jacket.

“Alex, I have to ask. Why?”

“Why what?”

Kevin looks sad. “Why did you keep doing it? You knew it couldn’t be, so why did you always come back? Why didn’t you just go to someone else, another one-night stand or friend with benefits? Someone who never wanted more than casual. Why did you have to keep coming back to me?”

Alexander stares at Kevin, wordlessly. Does he not know? “Kevin”, he says softly, “There were no others.”

Kevin is pulling his jacket on and freezes. “What?”

“I was not sleeping with anyone else.” And then, because he cannot help himself. “You were.”

Kevin stares at him in disbelief. “Oh my God.” And then he explodes. “What the fuck, Alexander? Are you kidding me? We were not exclusive! Because there was no us, you told me that over and over again! Why are you telling me this now? Why didn’t you say anything five years ago?!”

Alexander gets up from the bed and walks to Kevin. “Because what would it have changed? Nothing! It was not possible to be anything more. You know this!”

“Oh my God!” Kevin pushes his hands into his hair and turns around looking at the ceiling, like he could find the answer there. “So what are you saying, Alex?” He turns back to Alexander, his eyes desperate. “What are you saying?”

Alexander chooses honesty. “That it was always you. Why I came back every time? Because I wanted to. I wanted it to be possible. I am sorry I hurt you, Kevin, but I could not stay away. Every time I wanted to imagine it to be possible, even just for a few days. I wanted to be happy with you, Kevin. But Mother Russia did not agree.” He pauses, gathers his courage. “It doesn’t matter now. Mother Russia has turned her back to me. Kevin, I am free. And you are single.”

Kevin stares at him, mute, processing his words. Then, after what feels like an eternity, he pulls Alexander into a kiss that soon turns hungry, and Alexander is more than happy to reciprocate.

Kevin pulls away from the kiss with some difficulty. “Alex. The other men I slept with back then. You know I did it just to distract myself from you?”

Alexander grins. “Understandable. If you never do it again.”

Kevin’s eyes go wide with the implication, then he also grins. “I think that depends on whether I will need a distraction again.” Then he turns more somber. “No, seriously, Alex. If you start the same game again, I’m out. I already told you I can’t do it again.”

“I know.” Alexander nods towards the kitchen. “Come, let’s have breakfast.” Then he notices Kevin’s eyes on his naked body. “Or you want other things first?”

“Let’s start with the other things,” Kevin says and pulls him in for another kiss.

And later, when Alexander is in the kitchen preparing breakfast, he picks up his phone and opens Instagram on one of his burner accounts. He searches for markjcoll, His thumb presses on “stop following”, and then he navigates to the account settings to delete the account. If there is something Alexander Lemtov has learned during his career, it is that sometimes being in the right place at the right time is the key to success, and occasionally fate needs a little push in the right direction.