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when fyodor comes home to complete silence, the alarm bells ring violently in his head.
he always comes home to his kolya, his dear, sweet kolya, hugging him, kissing him on the cheek, or even playing some sort of sick prank on him. nikolai is always loud. he’s smiles and giggles and happy (fyodor thinks he doesnt deserve any less than this), so to come home to a quiet house makes fyodor’s heart drop. fuck, he’s worried.
“kolya?” he says, making his way to check every room nikolai might be in. the kitchen, living room, and bathroom are all vacant, though, and everything is the way fyodor left it earlier. where could his lover possibly be..?
he knocks on the bedroom door, and nikolai hums, acknowledging his existence. fyodor sighs in relief. but, alas, the relief leaves his body when he opens the bedroom door to see nikolai sprawled out on the bed in a pool of his own blood. the short, horizontal cuts on his arm have appeared to finish bleeding, but fyodor’s face contorts in worry, and nikolai’s eyes water up.
fyodor glides over to the bed and places himself at the edge of it, running his fingers through his partner’s hair gently.
“it’s okay to cry, y’know. let it all out, my dear.” fyodor whispers. this must work, because a single tear falls down nikolai’s cheek. fyodor swipes it away with his thumb. “are you okay? would you like to talk about it?”
“no,” nikolai rushes out. he never wants to talk about it, it seems, but fyodor won’t pry. he never pries. what’s most important is that his kolya is hurting, and he needs to clean out his wound. fedya stays there, smiling at his partner sadly as he runs his fingers through his hair, and nikolai’s body melts into the bed. minutes pass by until fyodor speaks up again.
“would you like for me to patch these up here in bed, or shall we move to the bathroom?” he asks. silence fills the room as nikolai thinks, and then he lets out a giggle.
“wouldn’t it be a bit too romantic if you patched them up here?” fyodor lets out a chuckle, happy to see that his kolya is feeling good enough to joke around. he thinks he should be happy forever, free from the plagues of his own mind. he wishes he could provide this for him.
“i suppose it would, my dear. i’ll help you up and we can go get them cleaned.” nikolai hums. fyodor holds his hand out for nikolai to take, and he does after mustering up the energy. the walk to the bathroom is quiet, but fyodor begins talking once he starts the process of cleaning up kolya’s wound. pain is the one thing nikolai hates the most, but fyodor realized early on that talking to him always helps. every time nikolai lets out a hiss, fyodor shushes him (lovingly) and kisses his forehead, letting him know that the process is almost over. once fyodor wraps his arm up in gauze, he presses a soft kiss to kolya’s cheek.
“all done, my brave, brave kolya. now, what d’ya say we go watch that boring movie you like?” gogol’s eyes widen theatrically.
“how dare you say that about the new york times best movie of the year! monsters inc is anything but boring! it truly is a work of art!” fyodor rolls his eyes with a smile plastered on his face.
“a ‘new york best movie of the year’ award isn’t real, but whatever you say, sweetheart. i’ll find the cd.”