5. Nikolai
NIKOLAI
The following week, Nikolai steps through the glass doors of the health club and feels the familiar, quiet satisfaction of the place settle over him.
High ceilings, pale stone floors, soft lighting that never feels clinical.
The air carries the faint clean scent of eucalyptus and chlorine. Members move with the unhurried confidence of people who belong here. Nikolai belongs too, though few of them know the full reason why.
Nikolai is already scanning the reception lobby when he sees the boy.
Theo stands near one of the low leather chairs, a small gym bag over one shoulder, dark hair slicked back. He looks up the moment he appears and offers a small, easy smile.
Something in Nikolai’s chest eases. He had not realized how much he had been looking forward to this until now.
Nikolai crosses the floor and stops in front of him.
“Thank you for coming,” Nikolai says. “I apologize for leaving it so long. Something came up with work.”
“That’s cool,” Theo answers. His eyes take a slow, appreciative sweep of the lobby. “This place is fancy. Seriously. Your monthly membership over a year would probably pay for that cabin you dream about.”
Nikolai smiles.
Theo’s remark is sharp, quick, and delivered without any real bite. Nikolai appreciates the wit. Internally though he files away something more important…
The boy is smart.
Shrewd.
Theo notices details and turns them into quiet observations that land exactly where they should. Nikolai can see that he’s not some dumb party boy. Far from it, in fact.
“Changing rooms are that way,” Nikolai says, pointing toward the discreet row of individual changing rooms. “I’ll meet you by the pool in five. Don’t be late.”
Theo nods and disappears down the hallway.
Nikolai heads to his room, strips with practiced efficiency, and pulls on dark swim shorts.
By the time he reaches the pool deck Theo is already there. The black trunks sit cleanly against his waist body, simple and elegant, nothing excessive. But revealing none the less… in all the best ways.
All said, Theo looks even better than Nikolai expected…
Strong lines, quiet confidence.
Theo catches him looking and raises one eyebrow, but says nothing.
They slip into the water without discussion. Nikolai sets a steady pace. Theo matches it easily, stroke for stroke, never falling behind, never pushing ahead just to prove a point. His form is clean. Efficient.
Nikolai finds himself watching Theo more than he intends to. They finish the last lap together and climb out, water streaming off skin.
“Here,” Nikolai says as he picks up one of the towels wait on the heated benches. Nikolai wraps the towel around his waist. Theo does the same, the fabric sitting low on his hips. “And now we sauna.”
The sauna is empty when they step inside. Heat wraps around them immediately, dry and intense. They sit on the upper bench, a careful space between them.
Nikolai leans back against the warm wood and lets the tension of the past week begin to loosen.
“As much as I enjoy late-night drinks,” Nikolai says, “I love this too. The quiet. The heat. No one needing anything from me for an hour.”
“I’m the same,” Theo answers.
“You are?”
Nikolai glances at the boy. He is not entirely sure whether he means it or whether he is simply agreeing with him. But he lets the doubt slide. For now it does not matter.
Steam rises between them.
Theo turns his head slightly, studying him with that same assessing look he had worn in the bar.
“You’re a man of mystery, you know that?” Theo says. The tone is light, almost teasing, but there is an edge underneath. “You’ve barely revealed anything about yourself. After all, how many people can just take the morning off to hang out at an exclusive health club like this?”
Nikolai brushes the question away with a small shrug and a vague comment about flexible work and passive income. Inside, though, the words land sharper than he likes.
Nikolai feels the familiar bristling at the edges of his control.
Theo is probing. Gently, cleverly, but probing all the same.
The heat builds. Sweat begins to bead along his shoulders and chest. Nikolai’s gaze drifts, almost against his will, to the curve of Theo’s thigh beneath the towel, the way the fabric shifts when he adjusts his position.
Unbidden, an image forms: Theo across his lap right here on the wooden bench, his swimming trunks peeled down, his hand coming down hard on the bare swell of his ass while the sauna heat wraps around them both.
Nikolai’s cock begins to thicken under the white towel. The bulge becomes noticeable. He shifts, resting one forearm across his lap, and forces the image out of his mind.
Regardless, Theo is trouble.
But he is the kind of trouble Nikolai finds himself wanting to know much, much more about…
Nikolai and Theo step out of the health club into the mild late-morning light. The city feels softer here, the usual edge dulled by the wide pavement and the trees that line the entrance to the park just across the street.
They walk without hurry. Nikolai stops at a small kiosk near the gates and returns with two coffees—black for him, the way Theo had asked for his. Nikolai hands the boy the cup and feels an unexpected comfort settle in his chest as they continue side by side.
Nikolai still does not know exactly where Theo is coming from. The details he offers remain light, carefully chosen. Yet everything about Theo sits at a distance from the boys he usually sees late at night in his bars.
No loud laughter designed to draw attention.
No obvious hunger for free drinks or easy access to power.
For sure, this is no basic fun loving boy around town.
Together, they follow one of the quieter paths that curves beneath the trees. Leaves shift overhead. A few joggers pass.
Up ahead, near a pretzel stand, one of Nikolai’s security detail stands with casual stillness, pretending to study the menu board. Nikolai gives the man a single, subtle look of acknowledgment. Nothing more.
Theo notices. “Who’s that?” he asks, nodding toward the stand.
Nikolai answers without missing a step…
“Business associate. We’re working on a deal for some building supplies.”
Theo turns his head and looks at Nikolai fully. One eyebrow arches.
“That’s a likely story,” Theo says, half a smirk on his face.
The words land with quiet challenge. Nikolai feels the familiar tightening of control in his chest. A little sass if one thing, but a direct challenge to his authority is another. It will not stand.
Nikolai meets his eyes and keeps his voice low, even...
“Unless you want to go over my lap for a spanking right here in the park boy, you need to learn that when I speak, I tell the truth.”
Color floods Theo’s cheeks. He does not look horrified, his gaze does not drop in fear or offence. But his cheeks undeniably turn a crimson color.
Something else flickers there too… interest, heat, a quiet spark that tells Nikolai that Theo likes the thought more than he is ready to admit.
Nikolai lets the moment stretch for a second longer, then reaches down and takes Theo’s hand. His fingers are warm against his. They continue walking, the contact easy and deliberate.
“We’re going to get to know one another a lot more,” Nikolai says. “And this time there won’t be a week’s gap between meetings.”
Theo smiles, the expression shy but genuine… “Good.”
Later that night the street is quiet enough that the two black SUVs sit almost unnoticed beneath the shadow of a half-lit store-cum-warehouse.
Nikolai sits in the passenger seat of the lead vehicle, the weight of the automatic rifle resting easy across his thighs. The balaclava is still rolled up on his forehead.
Beside him Xander checks the magazine of his own weapon one last time and then glances across.
Behind them four of Nikolai’s most trusted generals wait in silence, weapons ready, faces already covered. The second SUV holds the rest of the team...
Everyone is locked and loaded.
No one speaks unless necessary.
Xander’s voice is low. “Property is empty. Jeweler used by the Rossini clan to move cash into clean stones. Only the display stock left overnight. No guards on site tonight according to the last sweep. Arrogance comes with a hefty price to pay…”
Nikolai nods once.
The information matches what he already knows. A clean message is required. Something loud enough that the Rossini family cannot pretend it never happened, yet precise enough that no bystanders get caught in the crossfire.
“Let’s do this,” Nikolai says.
He pulls the balaclava down over his face. The world narrows to the eye holes and the cold weight of the rifle.
Doors open in near silence.
Boots hit the ground.
The two teams move as one, crossing the short stretch of open ground toward the glass front of the jewelers.
The first burst of automatic fire shatters the display windows in a glittering explosion of glass and sparks.
Alarms scream to life a second later, high and urgent.
The men do not slow. They step through the broken frames, boots crunching over crystal and gold settings that scatter across the polished floor.
Nikolai’s team works fast.
Bags open. Trays of rings, necklaces, loose stones: everything that can be swept is swept.
No one lingers over individual pieces. The goal is volume and speed.
Thirty seconds.
Forty.
The alarms keep wailing. Somewhere in the distance a siren begins to answer, still too far away to matter.
“Out,” Nikolai orders.
They withdraw the same way they entered, bags heavy, weapons still raised. The SUVs are already rolling forward.
Men pile in. Doors slam. Engines surge.
Nikolai drops into the front passenger seat again. Xander is behind the wheel, balaclava still in place, laughter already starting low in his throat as the convoy pulls away from the flashing lights of the ruined storefront.
“Clean,” Xander says, voice muffled by the mask.
“Very clean,” Nikolai agrees.
Nikolai lets out a short breath that turns into a laugh of his own. The adrenaline is still sharp in his blood, the kind that comes only after a job that lands exactly as planned.
The Rossinis will wake tomorrow to find one of their quieter laundering points turned into a public statement.
Message delivered.
Nikolai reaches up and rolls the balaclava back onto his forehead. Cool night air touches his face through the open window.
“Take most of the bags to the vault out of town,” Nikolai says. “Standard procedure. One bag stays with me.”
Xander glances sideways, the corner of his mouth lifting under the residual tension of the raid…
“Planning on giving it to your new mystery boy?”
Nikolai turns his head just enough to meet Xander’s eyes. His voice stays light, but the edge underneath is unmistakable.
“I still have at least a round of bullets left in this gun unless you shut up,” Nikolai growls.
Xander laughs properly this time and returns his attention to the road.
The convoy splits at the next junction, one vehicle peeling off toward the long route that leads to the secure vault outside the city limits, the other continuing toward the quieter residential streets where Nikolai keeps his townhouse.
Nikolai rides in silence for a while, the single bag of stones resting at his feet. The weight of it is solid, satisfying. Yet his mind is already drifting elsewhere…
Theo.
He can still feel the warmth of the boy’s hand in his from the park that morning. The way he had blushed when he mentioned putting him over his lap. The quiet challenge in his questions. The easy way he matched him length for length in the pool.
Nikolai does not know exactly what he is, or what he wants, but the pull toward Theo is already stronger than it has any right to be after only two meetings.
A burning curiosity rises in Nikolai… what Theo is doing right now, whether he is thinking about the morning the same way he is, whether that shy smile will still be there the next time he sees the boy.
Nikolai also burns to know whether Theo is involved with any other men, on any level be it casual or slightly more serious. Theo can only belong to him, there is no compromise, no meeting in the middle.
The thought sits warm beneath the leftover adrenaline of the raid. He pushes it down for the moment.
First things first.
The SUV slows as it enters the tree-lined street of his neighborhood.
Lights are low. Nearly all of the houses are dark.
Xander brings the vehicle to a stop a discreet distance from the townhouse and waits while Nikolai steps out with the bag.
“Good work tonight,” Nikolai says.
Xander gives a short nod and pulls away without another word. Nikolai walks the last stretch alone, the bag heavy in one hand, the night quiet around him.
Inside the townhouse he resets the locks and the metal barricade, sets the bag of stones on the kitchen island, and pours a generous measure of vodka into a heavy glass.
“Here’s to diamonds,” Nikolai says, toasting himself.
He drinks standing at the counter, the burn clean and familiar. The Rossinis have been reminded of their place. The west side remains his more than ever.
And somewhere across the city a sharp-eyed boy named Theo is already occupying more of his thoughts than any young man has in a long time.
Nikolai takes another slow swallow and lets the quiet of the house settle around him.
The night has been useful.
Productive.
But there’s something missing.
And his name is Theo.