[ Konstantin lifts his brows at that in confusion — 'leave a little bit on' — gaze sweeping from Vasiliy's arm to meet his eyes as he listens. At first, not understanding, but something in the confused bemusement immediately shifts when the other man coughs and winces in pain.
Konstantin's hand leaves his arm for a moment, pulls the cloth back a few inches, alarmed all over again, but Vasiliy's able to keep speaking, and he tries to still the frenzied pulse of his own heart. (He can't get too upset, he knows this, can't risk causing the creature to stir; the last thing they need is an interruption when Vasiliy's already dealing with this—)
So he forces himself to stay with the moment, to focus on Vasya's words, and they make the corners of his mouth quirk a little, though the mental image is... something that gives him an odd pause. 'Muscular men with no shirts on' is not a concept that he's spent too much time considering, but here and now he's thinking about how strong the EMT in question is, and that's not only a mental fortitude but certainly a physical one, as well. As evidenced by his recent act... and all of the times Konstantin's watched him doing tasks outdoors; Vasiliy's lean but strong, muscles hard beneath all the softness of his exterior, the big soft eyes and pretty mouth. ]
Unfortunately, the women here will just have to go without the sexy fireman look, [ he laughs, and leans to rinse the last remnants of soot from an arm. Vasiliy's undeniably handsome, and charming, and if it weren't for all of the stress that consistently plagues this hellish little town, he'd certainly be prone to an abundance of female attention — a thought that doesn't sit too happily within his gut, for some reason.
It isn't jealousy, of course. There's not a single thing to be jealous of. ]
It's difficult to believe there are no EMTs in these calendars, though. I would think the women would go wild for your uniform.
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Konstantin's hand leaves his arm for a moment, pulls the cloth back a few inches, alarmed all over again, but Vasiliy's able to keep speaking, and he tries to still the frenzied pulse of his own heart. (He can't get too upset, he knows this, can't risk causing the creature to stir; the last thing they need is an interruption when Vasiliy's already dealing with this—)
So he forces himself to stay with the moment, to focus on Vasya's words, and they make the corners of his mouth quirk a little, though the mental image is... something that gives him an odd pause. 'Muscular men with no shirts on' is not a concept that he's spent too much time considering, but here and now he's thinking about how strong the EMT in question is, and that's not only a mental fortitude but certainly a physical one, as well. As evidenced by his recent act... and all of the times Konstantin's watched him doing tasks outdoors; Vasiliy's lean but strong, muscles hard beneath all the softness of his exterior, the big soft eyes and pretty mouth. ]
Unfortunately, the women here will just have to go without the sexy fireman look, [ he laughs, and leans to rinse the last remnants of soot from an arm. Vasiliy's undeniably handsome, and charming, and if it weren't for all of the stress that consistently plagues this hellish little town, he'd certainly be prone to an abundance of female attention — a thought that doesn't sit too happily within his gut, for some reason.
It isn't jealousy, of course. There's not a single thing to be jealous of. ]
It's difficult to believe there are no EMTs in these calendars, though. I would think the women would go wild for your uniform.