Another Sky (слэш)

“Ever since we first met,” Dankovsky says when he takes a second to breathe heavily against Artemy’s neck, “I thought you were beautiful.”
The sentiment makes Artemy snort with laughter. Daniil looks up at him from under long eyelashes, smiling in that annoying, gorgeous way that he does.
“I am not beautiful,” Artemy says.
“Yes, you are.” He talks as if it is inarguable, empirical fact, in that so logical way of his. “Not as a lady in a painting is, no. But you are beautiful, just as the wilds of the Steppe is beautiful. Harsh, maybe, dangerous, perhaps. Alien to me, certainly. But I would challenge anyone to see the sun setting over the hills and the way the grassfields turn golden and not say yes, they are beautiful.”