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Fyodor opened his eyes at 7:00am. He would welcome Nikolai into his home, as the Ukrainian was tasked with helping Sigma protect the Sky Casino, as it was being threatened by the Hunting Dogs. Fyodor's house is closer to Sky Casino, so it wouldn't be a problem.
Because of this, the Russian decided to make all the preparations for Nikolai early in the morning. He got out of bed and went to the living room, starting to sweep and rearrange the furniture. He had cleaned the house the day before and the spacious house was spotless ready to welcome his friend.
The white walls contrasted with the dark blue curtain, a beautiful white carpet was placed in front of a crimson fur sofa. The room felt like standing in front of the sea on a snowy night, but with something else going on—perhaps a pool of blood presenting an imminent danger.
When it was 8:00 am, Nikolai arrived, being greeted by Fyodor with intense eyes, indescribable to Nikolai at the moment.
—Nikolai, sit here. I made you some coffee. And you can eat whatever you want.
The table was laden with various dishes and appetizers. Its setting was melancholically beautiful and elegant.
—Oh, Fyodor, you didn't have to...
—It's okay, Nikolai. It's just for us. You have work to do today, I don't want you to go hungry.
Nikolai gave a small smile, as a way of showing gratitude, and nodded. Then he began to eat. The food melted in his mouth, it was so delicious, Nikolai loved Fyodor's cooking. At the same time, he felt guilty for making Fyodor work on something as wonderful as this cuisine.
After that, Nikolai started packing his things to go to Sky Casino. Until he realizes that, in fact, his bag already had everything he needed.
—Oh, you really did all of that for me? Thank you! That's so cute...—Nikolai hugs Fyodor exaggeratedly, almost knocking him over. Fyodor doesn't seem to express anything, but in fact he loved this silly display of affection.—You didn't need to!
—I did this because I wanted to. Take care, Nikolai. I'm waiting for you here.
–Thank you for your hospitality, Fedya.
And so, Nikolai left Fyodor's house. The Russian waited nervously for the white-haired man to return.
...
Fyodor was lying down with his own thoughts—All about Nikolai—While reading a book. When Fyodor started to close his eyes slowly, he heard a very low noise, that was somehow loud enough to startle him even if just a little.
Fyodor got out of bed to greet the white haired guy when he felt that Nikolai's steps were, in fact, erratic—The sounds of each of them oscillated, between very low or very high, it seemed like he was having a hard time walking. When he realized this, he started to get worried about his friend, so he quickened his pace.
When he reached the living room, the scene he encountered was unpleasant—a metallic smell, red drops splashed onto the white carpet, and suddenly a nauseating feeling that made the air feel heavier. For some reason, no sign of Nikolai in the living room.
Fyodor deduced that the ukrainian man might have gone to the bathroom, so he headed in that direction. When he found the door locked and the light on, he realized he was indeed right. Then, he decided to knock on the door.
—Nikolai, are you there? What happened in the living room? Are you okay?!
Total silence.
Fyodor felt that he could explode in anger at any moment, until he heard soft cries coming from the bathroom.
They were Nikolai's. He decided to be more gentle with his request.
—Hey, open the door... I wanna see you. Can you do that for me? You never hide from me.
After a few minutes, the door slowly opened. Nikolai's eyes were red and didn't hide the unease that he was feeling, and when the russian looked down, he saw it.
Several stab wounds scattered throughout his body.
Fyodor's eyes widened. Nikolai was shaking and had a hard breath. He'd never seen Nikolai risk himself like that. He'd thought it was impossible for anyone to reach his level—That was probably why he was crying?
Without even thinking twice, Fyodor helped Nikolai up, who let out an annoyed grunt, flinching at the touch.
—Why are you holding me? I can take care of this by myself.
—No, I'll do that for you. No excuses.
It was clear that Nikolai was different than usual. Just the action of walking was enough to make him feel dizzy and bite his lip. The amount of injuries made it difficult for him to move, so he clung to Fyodor's waist while limping, each step more painful than the last.
—Seriously, what happened to you to come home so fucked up?—Even with harsh words, his voice trembled in an attempt to hide his worry and fear.
—The Hunting Dogs... They came back worse than usual. Fuck, Fyodor, that hurts!
—Lie down.
Nikolai did this without questioning as soon as they reached Fyodor's bedroom. Fyodor doesn't care if he gets the blankets dirty, Nikolai's health is much more important.
The black haired man looked for a first aid kit in his shelf.
—Did Sigma get hurt too?
—Fucking hell. More than me. But he's in good condition, obviously. He got medical attention.
—So why didn't you look for the same?
—I thought it was nothing because the adrenaline stopped me from feeling so much pain. But as I lost blood... I became more and more dizzy.
—You should learn to care about yourself.
As Fyodor prepared bandages and alcohol, Nikolai let out a soft whine.
—Damn, why are you so worried about me? I just... I wanted be alone.
—Alone? In this condition? Don't make me laugh. You're acting like a baby right now.—He let out a light chuckle and gently applied gauze to one of the wounds. Nikolai shivered, drops of cold sweat methodically falling down towards the back of his neck.
—Is everything okay?
—... Why are you doing this?
—I'm just taking care of you.
—Care of me?
—Care of you. Why are you so shocked?
At that exact moment, Nikolai felt his tears begin to fall again, his eyes were burning. Fyodor looked at him neutrally, but intrigued, finding his sudden behavior strange.
—Why are you approaching me this way?
—What?
—I thought I was bothering you, that I needed to give you a rest... Why are you doing this for me?
—Why are you thinking like this? I always cared about you. You know that.
He indeed knew, but refused to notice.
His feelings for Fyodor were too confusing to describe.
He felt more self-conscious around Fyodor, and it left him speechless.
He began to feel like he was forcing Fyodor to be with him. When the russian man sensed his insecurity, he quickly spoke up.
—Oh, don't tell me you think you're pressuring me to stay by your side! You don't think I'm crazy enough for you? Open your fucking eyes!
He was indeed correct.
Nikolai was so absorbed in his own feelings that he didn't realize that Fyodor didn't see him as annoying as he had assumed.
Every step he took to get closer to Fyodor was merely articulated, paranoid, and full of uncertainty.
Only to realize that this uncertainty was unnecessary when it came to Fyodor—He is a reserved person, but loves Nikolai with his whole heart.
—It seems your methods of making me recognize you have actually blinded you, and the truth that is clear before your eyes has been completely neglected. Nikolai, are you that obsessed with me?
In that vulnerable moment, it was easier to open the book Nikolai tried to hide, refusing to believe Fyodor could see it. Now Nikolai was completely under Fyodor's control, who read him like open paragraphs.
The sudden increase in his pain brought him back to reality. His muscles twitched as he avoided eye contact, pressing down on the blankets with desperate eyes and gritted teeth. Then he began to speak in a tense voice.
—... Don't you hate me? Aren't I stressing you out the way I think I am?
—You never made me feel genuinely mad. I'm just not used to show love to someone. But... Didn't you notice something different recently?
He was right.
There were changes in Fyodor's behavior that Nikolai wasn't noticing.
The house was frighteningly tidy, even though Fyodor never changes the arrangement, much less moves the furniture around.
The breakfast was overly elaborate for someone who was there just to prepare in a short period of time.
His bag was completely packed.
Fyodor grabbed Nikolai's bag and opened it, starting to look inside. Soon, he pulled out a first aid kit.
—I had left a first aid kit in your bag... Why didn't you use it?
—I didn't have time. I... Wait, even that was in the bag?
—Of course! I was worried. Nikolai, didn't you look at what I left for you?
Nikolai never opened his bag. He'd forgotten and was too focused on work. When he realized this, he took it from Fyodor's arms and began rummaging.
Chocolate, snacks, and a methodical organization of his belongings impressed him. There was also a notebook, one he'd never seen before. Curious, he decided to leaf through it, his hands trembling.
—Why did you put this here? ...Oh.
"Я люблю тебя, Коля. Ты разве не заметил? Я забочусь о тебе."
(I love you, Kolya. Haven't you noticed? I care about you.)
That was enough to make Nikolai cry even more.
He never imagined that Fyodor would love him. He believed his passion was unattainable, and that Fyodor was distant and cold.
—Fedya, what's your problem? What did you do-
Suddenly, a warm sensation, mixed with the burning pain of his injuries, embraces him. His neck begins to feel increasingly wet, and whispers of love come out of his beloved Fyodor's mouth in a trembling, tearful voice.
—I want you to start loving yourself, to value yourself. You can't ignore your health. Please enjoy what I've given you. And... I'm sorry, I know you didn't like it and-
Nikolai holds his face, making Fyodor look at him.
—Fedya, it was the best thing I could have in my life. You are magnificent, and-
—Please start caring about yourself, okay?
—When I first read it, I thought you were lying. Fyodor... Я тебя люблю. (I love you) and... Я тоже забочусь о тебе. (I care about you too.)
The silence allowed the loud sounds of breathing to permeate the air. Anxious and overwhelmed by each other's presence, but relieved to no longer hide this secret, they approached each other. Their noses touched lightly, and the scarlet was clear from the close proximity of each other's cheeks. Then their mouths connected in a soft kiss, but full of desire and incomprehensible care. The kisses ended in murmurs of love and caresses, and only God knows how that melodramatic day ended.