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Fyodor and Gogol lived together for years now. Both were nothing special, no one famous, just useless in the eyes of the government since they had no jobs and basically lived in a small, worn down house at the outskirts of a Russian city. Just a bunch of unwanted people that society couldn’t afford to feed as well.
“Kolya, did you find something?”
Fyodor searched in the piles of trash for things that looked interesting and helpful. After a little while Gogol shouted back: “Not really. Just wood and tons of garbage.” A loud and frustrated sigh followed, then a muttered, “nothing new.”
Nearly every day the two of them went on a hunt for food, clothes and other things that would help them survive a little longer. Fyodor once suggested moving to another city but they had no money to pay for the train or the bus and wandering through Russia’s landscape could have fatal consequences. Even more now when the weather steadily grew worse over the time. The sky had not a single hole where the sun shone through and the clouds were dark grey – it looked like it would break down at any second with heavy rain. “We should head home, I don't want to get wet and freeze my ass off, Fedya.”
“Okay, hurry up then. You’re the one dawdling around.”
Both met up at the entrance of the garbage dump and exchanged their little discoveries. Glancing one last time at the sky Gogol anticipated the rain to come soon. Not a single word was uttered but it was okay since they understood each other without words. Suddenly Fyodor stopped in his tracks and scanned the area but continued walking. The latter merely slowed down and glanced at his partner weirdly but soon knew why Fyodor behaved like this. He, too, eyed the surroundings carefully. “Something doesn't feel right about this.”
Nikolai only hummed quietly and gazed ahead of them, not wanting to act suspiciously. “Ah,” Gogol started to ease the tension a little and act as though nothing is going on. “I found us a little food! We could eat that later together.”
There was a huge smile on his lips and Fyodor couldn’t stop himself from chuckling a little. It was always such a delight to see Gogol happy like this. In these times it was difficult to find happiness even when Nikolai joked around – it was only momentary and not for a longer time. Nonetheless the black haired man was more than lucky to at least have someone next to him or else he would already be dead.
“Do you think it’ll be enough for the two of us?”
Asking with a faint trace of mocking in his voice, Fyodor smirked challengingly at the other and gently punched his shoulder. “Ow! Fedya, how could you question me!”
Wiping a fake tear away Nikolai sobbed but then drastically changed to a laugh. “Of course I have enough for the two of us~”
He chimed and opened the bag when they were inside their house. There was just an old mattress on the ground with two torn blankets, a fireplace and a few dirty and tattered rags. The people within the city wouldn’t even call them clothes anymore but these kept Fyodor and Gogol warm on the cold days and nights. Even if they sat together, bodies pressed flush against one another to share what little warmth they had. It went on for years and every autumn and winter was draining. Each night they thought it was their last whilst snow fell from the sky, taking every bit of energy that they had left. And this season it won’t be any different.
Fyodor sat on the ground to start the fire; first putting a few branches into the pit, then took a lighter and burned some paper before nestling it between the twigs. Once it was big enough he placed a few larger pieces of wood onto it and stayed put on his spot. The heat soothed his body slightly, making him close his eyes and sigh in relief. “Don’t fall asleep just yet, you haven’t eaten anything.”
Nikolai took canned food he found earlier and opened the lid. With an improvised spoon out of carved wood he held some out for Fyodor to eat who gladly took it. The first proper meal in what feels like an eternity and it fills both of their stomachs quite well. After their dinner both sat down onto the mattress; a blanket around their backs and the other over their shoulders with the fire peacefully crackling in front of them.
The rain hammered against the building but they were safe from it, kept dry in their little hiding spot.
“Say, do you think that those guys that followed us earlier… will they hurt us?”
Gogol asked quietly and listened to the ambient sounds and leaned his head on Fyodor’s shoulder, heavy eyes nearly falling shut. Fyodor hummed softly and closed his own purple ones. “I don’t know… I can’t tell for sure but they’re up to no good. Sleep now, tomorrow will be exhausting.”
Fyodor himself couldn’t stay awake any longer, already drifting off as he was speaking. Nikolai, on the other hand, was already fast asleep.
The sun had already dawned when the black haired man woke up, staring with a blurred vision to the fireplace; only the ashes and tiny embers still flickering. It was strange, to say the least, that his partner didn’t wake him up. Coming to his senses he realized that Gogol wasn’t there to begin with. Next, he noticed, that there were small puddles of rain water everywhere. On the mattress next to him was a small piece of paper which contained Gogol’s location written in a messy handwriting. He could barely decipher it but set his mind on going to that place no matter what.
It was a place that looked a little better than their own worn down house and at the wide entrance stood four people, each and every one looking murderous with grim expressions, large tattoos and weapons. Guns, knives, bats, brass knuckles, chains and whatnot. They moved aside to let him into the foyer of the building. Fyodor’s eyes widened when he saw a barely conscious Nikolai chained to a pillar that supported the structure. His clothes were ripped apart and stained with blood that dripped from his mouth past the cloth that served as a gag and some open wounds. Nikolai gasps weakly for air, his vision hardly focusing when Fyodor calls out his name. It sounded so distant, muffled.
“What do you want?”
The black haired man remained somewhat calm but gritted his teeth. It hurt to look at his partner but this was inevitable now. It already happened, and nothing could stop this or turn back time. A man spoke up and played with his gun nonchalantly. “Lil guy took somethin’ from us. Now, it ain’t much but he stole food.”
First he loaded the gun, then loosely pointed it at Nikolai’s head. He didn’t fully register anything, he just groaned in pain and whimpered Fyodor’s name who looked at him in shock. “And y’know how valuable it is around these parts.”
He pulled the hammer back.
“Pretty sure that you two got nothin’ to lose.” The four guys at the entrance circled around Fyodor and merely waited for their leader to give the word. Now his aim grew steady, body tensed with excitement as the leader watched Nikolai squirm around in his restraints.
Fyodor, however, was quicker and tucked a pistol out that he stole earlier from one of the lackeys and shot each of the four into their bodies. Head, chest, stomach. Multiple times to make sure that none of them would survive. Lastly, he aimed at the leader with sheer malice gleaming in his eyes. Something that no one ever witnessed. It made the taller man’s movements cease completely and lower his gun unconsciously.
“And you took something that is more worth.”
The last projectile was reserved for that guy and it hit dead center, right between his eyes. Fyodor panted, fog coming out of his mouth and he relished in the heavy silence for a split second. It was relieving, in a way, to finally have those loudmouths gone. And surely they had supplies somewhere.
But Nikolai’s condition had highest priority right now. Shuffling over to the wounded man he knelt down and shot the chains open by using the leader’s gun. Removing the clothed gag from his mouth Fyodor used it to wipe some of the blood away. “Nikolai, hang in there.”
His voice unwillingly cracked when he checked for the breathing rhythm – shallow and long. He had bruises everywhere and gashes caused by the beating. Desperately looking around for anything that could help him Fyodor made a quick decision and picked Nikolai up, there must be a storage room somewhere that had some first aid kits or the likes. It took a while and they stumbled into the storage room that held food, bandages and whatnot in it. Fyodor gasped and laid Nikolai onto the floor. Ripping the clothes open the black haired man disinfected everything first and then taped bandages around the spots. It wasn’t the best but better than letting him suffer like this.
–
“You’re being lazy again, Kolya.” Fyodor nagged and lightly nudged the long haired man with his foot. Nikolai slept peacefully on the old bed and groaned, slowly rising from his sleep. It’s been a few months since that incident and Nikolai’s body has gotten relatively better thanks to Fyodor taking care of the wounds.
“Then what am I supposed to do?”
He whined and limped over to the fire to sit down next to it, shivering and warming his hands at the flames. It’s winter and awfully cold but they found a perfect house that gave them protection from the harsh weather. There was food, a proper bed with a blanket and a pillow and a source of water nearby. “Make us food.”
Fyodor responded and rolled his eyes. “I will have to treat your wounds again, okay? And don’t jerk around this time.”
Nikolai whined and prepared the food in a pot, setting it over the crackling fire to let it simmer. He shivered when he pulled his clothes off to reveal the dirty bandages, pale bruises and somewhat fresh scars. It definitely looked better now but Fyodor was still a little mad at those people for ruining his boyfriend’s body. Removing the tapes he inspected the wounds, dabbed a cotton soaked in disinfectant against them and then put compression bandages around the areas. Nikolai whimpered and whined but held still, biting his lip to distract himself.
“The wounds look good, nothing is infected anymore. Now they just need to rest and not be bothered.”
A kiss was pressed onto Nikolai’s forehead and they both cuddled around the fire. The soup cooked quietly and the long haired man sighed. “Thanks for saving me back then. Who knows what they could have done to me. Hell, I don’t even want to imagine it.”
Neither does Fyodor. He cringes at the thought of that gang and everything what they did. “They were known for killing and raping people. Their main cause was to make people fear them, it’d gain easier access to food and so on. But… why did you steal some of theirs?”
This has been on Fyodor’s mind and now he addressed it. Each of them stayed silent for a while, then Nikolai opened his mouth to reply, “I knew that you desperately needed something to eat. Longer and you would’ve been unable to even move from the lack of nutrition.”
He admits. It earns him a scowl which turned into a soft expression, followed by a sweet kiss to his slightly swollen lips. “Thank you, Kolya. I wouldn’t have survived without you.”
There’s a faint blush on his cheeks and Nikolai happily returns the kiss, pulling Fyodor as close as he could.