Chapter Text
Friday has arrived and the only thing Chuuya has been muttering to himself since morning is—
It is today it is today it is today is today is happening today
Is this really happening?
Am I really gonna take this stupid rat home and pass him around as Exhibit #294: Chuuya’s first bf?
It’s not too late to call home and make a public announcement that this is a huge hoax pulled by Lucy (suspected accomplices: Paul and Kouyou, grrr!) and that he does not have a date or anything. They haven’t boarded their flight yet. Heck, they haven’t even started for the airport! He still has a lot of time to ditch the rat right here on the university campus and go all by himself.
But the problem is that the said guy has already finished packing for the two-day trip. No, packing is a generous word—it’s more of tossing a couple of shirts and undergarments and a pair of jeans into a bag and stuffing it into Chuuya’s suitcase after he’s done because what’s the need for carrying another set of luggage since we are dating, right~?
(Fyodor is really enjoying (mis)using the boyfriend bit, isn’t he?)
The whole of last night Fyodor had spent stowing and locking all his things in his cabinet so now the room is bare save for the two cots.
And... he is done getting ready for the trip as well. Even though it took him less than ten minutes and even though it doesn’t show on his face, he seems fresh and excited about today and Chuuya doesn’t have the heart to propose the change of plans to him. Maybe, it’s the magic of the beauty sleep he got last night; maybe, he knows to clean up well when the situation demands. Whatever be the case, had he not known him before today, he certainly wouldn't have recognized him as the same vermin from five days ago, drowning in his own clothes and standing dazed at the doorsill.
Grudgingly, Chuuya wonders if taking him along as a date won’t be all that bad of an idea, eh?
Before the idea can take its root deep in his brain, he turns his warm face to the mirror and his focus to the more important questions such as did he shampoo his hair too much? Does the red of his tee go with the black of his jacket? Should he change it? Or, his jeans to casual pants? And so on, while surrounded by a sea of clothes and curiously watched by his ‘boyfriend’.
“Are you gonna change again? I think this looks nice on you.”
“You say that for everything I wear,” he grumbles at the Russian’s reflection in the mirror. “I don’t trust your judgment at all.”
He is lying on top of the bare bed, his arms tucked behind his head, clad in an oversized mauve shirt, half buttoned and half tucked, over a plain white pullover and white jeans and somehow, manages to pull off the assorted look so well that Chuuya is jealous. Like what the hell changed today that the same kind of clothes doesn’t make him look malnourished but strategically lean?
“That’s because you look good in everything you wear,” he answers without a hint of sarcasm or embarrassment in his voice. Nevertheless, the tips of his ears turn bright red. Why in the world is he taking this boyfriend shit too seriously? He has no brain to mouth filter at all! He is speaking as if he is merely adding comments to his debugged programs and nothing else! “Plus, won’t we be late because you have to fold—” he makes a circling motion with his index finger at the pile of clothes at his feet. “—alllll~ that?”
Chuuya huffs at the good point and kneels down to start cleaning the mess all the while listening to Fyodor chuckle and point out a hundred reasons why he should always stick to the first shirt he pulls out of the wardrobe just like him.
As luck would have it, their flight has been delayed by two hours. Damn.
He should have known the signs weren’t good when he decided to trust Fyodor. Instead, he should have stuck to his 164th decision and worn the gray tee and ripped jeans for his airport fashion.
Whereas, there is Fyodor blessedly oblivious how much of a head–turner he is. It’s almost like a celebrity has stepped into the airport with how much people are staring in their general direction. At first, the redhead tried to ignore both the onlookers and the weird possessiveness building up in his heart unlike anything he has felt before. Maybe, the only time he has experienced a feeling similar to this was when some of the boys in his class tried to tinker with his bike he was building from scratch. Even that had died out as soon as he realized they meant no harm. They just wanted to learn alongside him which he was delighted to help them out with.
But this is different, okay? He isn’t ready to share his ‘boyfriend’ with anyone. He has no idea where he is getting all these ideas from, especially since Fyodor doesn’t at all seem interested in his background admirers. Even then to make things crystal clear to his oglers, his heart is egging him on to yank the raven down to his height and make out with him in public, a plan his brain thankfully kicks to the curb before it can be put to fruition and he can make a fool of himself.
Although it doesn’t mean he didn’t yelp in panic when the man in question turned to him. “Now what?”
“Wh–what–do–now–oh?”
“You...okay?” Shit! What the hell am I doing? Did I forget Japanese or what?!
“Yea–yeah!” He plasters a fake smile on his face before Fyodor could figure out his actual thought process or rake through the sewer of his dangerous fantasies. He wishes he’d take off those stupid shades so he can see his expressions. He says it’s protection against the bright glare of the downlights. Chuuya doesn’t believe him. He just wants to look cool and turn heads. “Yeah! It’s gonna be four by the time we board!”
Okay, that’s a bit overboard and Fyodor is definitely suspicious now about whatever was going on in his mind a minute ago.
Anyhow, he decides to change the subject. Chuuya is most grateful.
“Hmm, I suppose we’ve got no choice except to wait. Let’s sit over there—” he points to a couple of beanbags in one corner of the lounge. “—and get some refreshments. I am hungry.”
“Sorry, by the way,” he says, once they have settled into their beanbags and placed their juice boxes and snacks on the low three–legged table in between them. “I mean, we won’t have predicted this, still... you could have been working on your project now. This must be a huge waste of time for you.”
“Nuh-huh.” Fyodor is in between swallowing his pastry and pulling the tiny plastic spoon from between his lips with a pop. Had it been Dazai or someone else, Chuuya might have found this gross but now, he is weirdly distracted by the sheen of the cream on his lips. “I am way ahead of my peers working under Dr. Mori so I am not running short of time or anything. In fact, when I told him about my boyfriend’s brother’s engagement, he advised me to take a break and have fun over the weekend. I didn’t even pack my laptop so that—”
“Wait!” Chuuya has stopped processing beyond the boyfriend bit, however Fyodor goes on with no concern for the redhead frozen in his seat. Something or the other about getting to eat lots of cake at the party. As if that’s what is important. No, what’s important here is the shaky platform of where their relationship stands. What are they? Friends? Acquaintances? Mutuals? Not–not lovers, right? “Your boyfriend?!!”
Fyodor tilts his head to his right as if asking yeah, what of it?
“No, wait, wait! Are we–we are—no, you think we are actually dating?!”
“Are we not?”
Chuuya gives a violent shake of his head. “We are not—!”
“What do you mean? Am I not your date for the engagement? You invited me, remember? Even your brother—”
Shit, he is offended. The hurt is written large on his face. He didn’t mean to be rude to a guy who is stuck with him in the airport and who is here for him and for no other purpose. “No, you are my date for the engagement—”
“Okay then, that’s all that matters~” he cheers up in an instant, which in itself is suspicious. Is he trying to manipulate him with the help of his expressive face? Just like the mackerel who is wont to force him into situations without any escape but to heed to his solution.
“NO! It isn’t all that matters! You are my date for the engagement but I am not dating you, okay? Look, it’s a one-time thing I’ve been forced into ‘cause of the fucking idiots in my family! I wanna make this clear beforehand. I don’t want more misunderstandings between us.”
“Aren’t you very to the point?” he pouts. “How are you so sure things won’t change between us before the weekend is over? You might fall for me, who knows?”
Chuuya stares at him. “I won’t! What are you talking about?! Why the hell would I—?!”
“Why not?”
“What?”
“Why not? Why do you think you won’t fall for me? Is it because of my nationality?”
“What—no...?” What does his nationality have to do with anything? In fact, his morning voice thick with a Russian accent that he can’t get rid of until after he is properly awake is rather cute and hot and the way some of his Russian slips into—hahahaha, I should stop my thoughts wandering off in those dangerous territories! Right NOW!
Fyodor is still waiting for an answer. Chuuya can’t look straight into those clear violet eyes staring so intensely at him like he is able to read his soul and can already tell that whatever he is gonna spout is a lie.
Because there is no denying his attraction to the handsome raven and hell knows how precipitous the plunge from attraction to love might be.
His phone starts to ring for what feels like the hundredth time since they started from their hostel. This time, he has been saved from answering the tricky question because of this timely interruption so thank you so much, Kouyou–nee.
“Chuuya, where are you now?!”
He gives one bud of the earphone to his inquisitive companion so that he too can listen in to the conversation.
“Nee–san, don’t worry! The plane is only delayed, not canceled. At least, not until now. Even if we board by four, we will be there before night.”
“That isn’t my worry,” she mutters. “Fyodor is with you, right?”
Yeah, as if having a company like Fyodor’s is good for anything. The stupid rat has the tendency to scamper away into any little hole he sees so Chuuya has to keep an additional eye on him other than on their luggage. He might get lost in the wild maze of the airport just to get a choco–chip.
“Okay, okay. Paul is calling Fitzgerald–san to make sure the flight will take off on schedule so you don’t have to worry either. Just make sure you don’t go off anywhere and miss your flight. Stay in the airport, board the plane, get down when the plane lands, understand? Albatross will be at the pickup so don’t take a cab from the lot. You are sure to get kidnapped otherwise.”
“What?! I am not a child—”
“Gotta go now. I am busy. Call me once you board.” Busy, my foot! You have been calling me every ten minutes.
Plus, does she really believe anyone can run off with him like a package? True, Adam used to run about with him like a package tucked under his arm when he was in pre-school but that’s nearly fifteen years ago! Also, true, Chuuya looks quite petite and delicate but that’s just looks! Anyone who so much as dares to touch his hat is gonna receive a high kick right into their skull. He is a big boy now but who is to tell Kouyou?
“What? What’s so funny here?” he demands to his silently snickering companion.
“Nothing.” He shakes his head. “It’s quite precious how much your family cares about you.”
Chuuya huffs and pulls out the bud from his ear. “They are a nosy, noisy bunch, to be honest. They wanna know every single detail of my life. They still treat me as a child, for fuck’s sake!”
Fyodor smiles but says nothing, finally taking off his shades and tucking it into his pocket. “I wonder how I’d react if I had people who want to know every single detail of my life.”
“What do you mean?” Chuuya hesitates. Now that he thinks about it, he has never heard his roommate’s phone ring even once in the past five days compared to his which is ringing non-stop. Why won’t his parents call him? His family? His siblings? Wait, does anyone in his family even know about the present situation? Shit, he is only eighteen—Chuuya should have made it a point to ask his parents. How did he overlook such a matter? “You did tell your parents about this trip, right? I totally forgot to ask permission—”
“Nah, never mind. I don’t have anyone you need to ask permission from. My parents passed away when I was three. I lived with my grandma for some time but she too left me five years ago.”
“So... you have been on your own since thirteen?”
He nods but doesn’t look at him, his gaze fixed on the couple standing at the inquiry counter. “Yeah, that’s why big families intrigue me a lot. As far as I know, I too had–have a lot of cousins and uncles and aunts and whatnots. But nobody bothered to spare me a glance during the funeral for fear that I might cling onto them and they’d be forced to take me in.” He takes another bite of his pastry. “Your family is nice, though. You guys seem to genuinely care for each other. Because... if it isn’t too personal, Paul isn’t your actual brother, right? Half-brother, if my guess is right?”
“Right,” Chuuya echoes, still reeling from the sudden influx of details from his childhood. A volley of questions passes through his mind—how did you live on your own from thirteen years of age? Did you live in an orphanage? Have you been working since then? etc. etc., because he knows exactly how it is to lose both parents and be scared about what’s gonna happen next. Probably the only reason Chuuya took the bereavement relatively better is because of the presence of Kouyou, Paul and to some extent, Arthur in his life. But Fyodor had no one. Maybe, that’s the reason he overloads himself with coursework to fill a gap which wouldn't have existed if he had someone to call on him. Is this why he is so looking forward to this trip?
Chuuya swallows his guilt. Just this morning the idea to ditch him and go on his own had felt so tempting to him. He wants to say something to comfort him but his attitude makes it seem like neither condolence nor concern is required.
So, he settles for answering his question instead. “Right, he is my half-brother. Mom remarried after his dad died—Mom’s second marriage and Dad’s first marriage. Um, I think Paul was three then, same as you. But he hardly remembers his dad; he grew up with us so... I almost forgot he is my half-brother, haha!”
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean it like that? I was simply curious. Sorry if I was prying.”
“No, no,” Chuuya says quickly. “Do you wanna see my family? I have photos.”
“This is Kouyou–nee. She is my sister. Four years younger than Paul. Fourteen years older than me.”
“Oh, you got the red hair from your mom’s side?”
“Yep. Me, Kouyou, Lucy and Mark—they are Mom’s younger brother’s kids—all of us have red hair.” Chuuya suddenly remembers the description of his type and wonders if he was telling the truth or merely playing along with Lucy. He doesn’t know if he wants to repeat the question to him and get another answer. Even though it might be a joke, he was secretly flattered. “Paul has her blue eyes.”
“Whoa! Is this...the CEO of—?”
“Ye~ep. Fitzgerald. He is one of Paul’s clients. Actually, the reason we got discounted flight tickets today is because of their connection. That guy is filthy rich!”
Fyodor nods his head as if in distaste. “But then, your family too must be quite loaded, right?”
“Yeah, now. Not been like that from ever, though. After an accident took Mom’s life, we were in a pretty bad situation so much that Dad started spiraling on the brink of mental instability. Paul and Kouyou were forced to step into his shoes and take care of the household as well as the little me. I was four or five, then.”
“No wonder, they dote on you so much. You must have been a source of encouragement for them to go on when they felt like giving up.”
Chuuya stares at him in disbelief. “Wow, you repeated the exact words they always say to me! How did you know?”
“A guess?” the raven chuckles, making his heart go badump. “Going by your present good looks, you must have been even cuter when you were a baby.”
“Ah, I see. That’s–that’s right. Ha–ha.” Quit blushing, damnit! “Um, so, do you know Fitzgerald too?” Let’s change the topic before he notices my face going red. Why the hell is he so sensitive to his compliments? He rarely blushes when their prof says good job or his gang offers him a high five. He takes it all in stride. But with Fyodor...he turns into a blushing mess. Chuuya was cute as a kid?! Speak for yourself! Fyodor must have been a cherub who had everyone around him wrapped around his little finger with his pretty smile and large purple eyes radiating innocence.
Whereas the older Fyodor merely looks innocent. He doesn’t have one drop of it within him.
“Oh, why would you ask such a question?”
What question? “What?”
“Yeah…I actually know the guy.” What guy? Oh, is he talking about Fitzgerald? I see. I forgot. “I hacked his airlines reservation server once. So, he might remember me too. Oops.”
“What? Come again?”
Fyodor lets out a heavy sigh. “Kolya, you remember Nikolai Gogol? The guy with the long white braided—yeah, the trickster. He was feeling quite homesick during his very first semester and badly wanted to come home. But the tickets were so expensive that he couldn’t afford it. He kept calling me and crying himself to sleep every night. That’s why. I hacked the ticketing server and reserved a seat for him.”
“Free of cost?”
“Free of cost.” And Paul could get them only discounted tickets. “Though sadly, my crime was discovered later on.”
“Oh no.”
“Don’t worry, it gets better. The CEO, this guy called me and threatened me with legal action and all. I merely asked him how his system security can be so lax that an amateur hacker like me could break through the firewall so easily. I didn’t try hacking again after that so dunno if he upped the security since,” he shrugs nonchalantly. “Thinking about it, I might have known your brother first had the case gone to court.”
“Wow, you are a real walking hazard. Did he fine you or something, then?”
“No, in fact, he offered me a job in his cyber security team. I said I wanted to finish college first. The offer still stands if I wanna take it. Dunno, haven’t decided on my future yet. Maybe? If I do, I’ll be first degree acquaintances with your brother, ha-ha.”
What a terrifying thought! Fyodor and Paul teaming up against Chuuya? No fucking way!
“Oho, I was right, eh?” Belatedly, Chuuya realizes Fyodor still has his phone in his hands. “Look at you~ such a cute babe in your sister’s arms! You had all of one tooth—Chuuya! Stop climbing over me! People are watching!”
“Then give back my phone, you idiot of a rat!” The smaller man flails over the taller one to snatch his phone from him but he only leans backward to avoid his hands and continues to look through his cursed baby photos, courtesy of Kouyou. “Don’t you know your fucking manners?! It’s bad manners to swipe through—gotcha!”
“You cheated!” He tries to push him off his lap. “You knew my tummy is ticklish!”
Chuuya doesn’t care. Fair or foul, he is only glad to get his phone back before he could swipe to the more classified photographs.
Well, whether he likes it or not, he is stuck with Fyodor for the next two hours. Of course, he does have the option to put on his headphones, shuffle through his six-hours long playlist and ignore his companion but somehow chatting with Fyodor turns out to be more enjoyable than he imagined.
In the end, he gets to know the Russian better than he would have if they stayed the weekend in their dorms.
Surprisingly, they have a lot in common like—okay, he was truly surprised to find their classics, favorites and eng–songs playlists overlapped a lot! A lot of his other favorite titles were Russian songs, understandable. Chuuya wants to listen to them even if he doesn’t understand the language. He doesn’t need to understand to appreciate music, right? Even then, the other man promised to jot down the lyrics and its meaning in Japanese if Chuuya has any to his liking.
When will you have time to do this in between your packed schedule?
Eh, I can make out time to do things I want to, schedule be screwed.
He keeps his mouth shut lest the Russian gets a big head but his gesture touches him a lot more than he’d like to mention.
Another big surprise—for Chuuya at least, because Fyodor had already connected the dots that Chuuya and the guy who goes by Corruption and treats their ears over their headphones to the foulest curses ever if they lose, ahem, rage quitting to put it shortly, are one and the same—that they are teammates in Resurrection to Hell. In other words, the black mage called Conjurer of the Underground by everyone in their team is this guy and Chuuya is coming to know of this...now. Wow.
To his defense, Fyodor rarely speaks over his mic, mostly kept muted and prefers to use the chat box instead. How was he supposed to know?!
In all honesty, though, they probably have more differences than similarities.
Like, of course, his weird shower habits and preferring comfort over elegance. He likes to wear whatever comes his way, not so much as glancing at the mirror (yet look like the coolest motherfucker out there, not that Chuuya is gonna say this out loud either.) He hates wearing socks but likes wearing printed woollen stockings to bed. Another weird quirk of his. Chuuya likes dogs but Fyodor likes cats. His friends think he secretly likes rats. So, they gave him a rat plushie for his sixteenth birthday. The one he hugs to sleep, the one he has packed in bubble wrapper and left in the dorms because he might lose it over the weekend if it travels with him. He is quite in a dilemma over what he’s gonna hug to sleep for two nights.
Little did Chuuya know how ominously significant this fact would turn out to be.