Chapter Text
Fyodor collapsed as soon as he came through the door. Luckily, Nikolai caught him before he could hit the ground.
“Woah there. Take it easy or you’re going to work yourself to death.”
“’m fine,” Fyodor said unconvincingly but Nikolai didn’t press it any further. That was one of the things Fyodor appreciated the most about living together with the other; Although he was irritable and loud a lot of the time, he knew when the situation called for something more quiet.
Fyodor was too exhausted to move. They remained like that for a while, Fyodor softly pressed into the other man’s chest. He would have fallen without the other man’s support but he didn’t feel like doing anything about it and Nikolai wasn’t about to complain.
“I made piroshki for dinner. I waited for you so we could eat together,” Nikolai said adoringly after a few moments.
Fyodor emitted a grumbling sound. “How do you have all that energy? How can you still cook after a long day? You only got here around seven.” Fyodor asked sleepily. It was already half past nine.
“Very thoughtful of you to memorize my schedule,” Nikolai mused. “Don’t you know I am very adept in the art of dumpling making? Now c’mon, let’s get you out of those clothes so we can eat.”
Fyodor looked down, as if to hide the small smile on his lips but at least he finally stood on his own again. With no protests from the other, Nikolai removed his over-coat and ushanka while Fyodor only lifted his arms when needed.
Nikolai poured them a cup of tea, but the tea was already cold. So were some of the piroshki but neither of them minded. They had each other’s company to warm up the room.
Nikolai was doing most of the talking but Fyodor gave his occasional hmm, or other interested sound. Although he struggled to admit it, he enjoyed Nikolai’s company a great deal. It made the house feel a little less lonely and reassured him, there were still good people in this world.
None of that could be said about his coworkers. Fyodor worked as a part time secretary in a major accounting firm, but what made his job suck specifically was that some bigshot from the US had bought the entire company and felt like restructuring everything from the ground up.
Everyone knew they were selling their clients data to some sister companies the scumbag owned, all legal of course – something hidden in fancy words between the terms of service – and Fyodor would have been all too happy to help out, if he had been bribed – he meant paid – accordingly.
On top of being the embodiment of capitalism, it wasn’t a secret but lesser known to the public, Scott Francis Fitzgerald was also an ability user and knowing people were abusing their god given gifts for personal gain made Fyodor’s blood boil. Perhaps the devil was also able to hand out abilities.
The only reason he kept his job was that he desperately needed the money to pay rent to the leech, more commonly referred to as his landlady, whom he despised most of all.
Despite his usual hatred for landlords or any kind of property owner, Alyona Ivanovna was especially terrible. Not only did she exploit two young university students for rent that was way too high for a small flat with stained wallpaper, but she also ran a pawnbroking business, therein stripping innocent people of their sentimental possessions for a few scraps of money. She was a louse on society, nothing but a parasite.
“You are thinking about that woman again, aren’t you?” Nikolai asked once he caught the grim expression on his roommate’s face.
“Perhaps.”
Nikolai sighed.
“I know, she is an evil witch that would drink our blood of given the chance but there’s really not much we can do about her. I’m just glad we finally got a roof over our heads.”
“There’s nothing legal we can do about her,” Fyodor corrected, making Nikolai laugh.
“Rich coming from a criminal psychology major.”
“Hey, I’m just throwing ideas at the wall.”
“Whenever you say that it’s more like throwing cheese to a wall; Some will stick, others won’t, but they are going to attract the rats regardless.”
Fyodor could have sworn he saw a rat run by the table that very moment. He didn’t mind the rats. Partially due to the fact that he rarely ever had business in the kitchen but also whenever he was up at 3 am again, it felt comforting to know, he wasn’t the only vermin awake at the godless hours of the night.
“And what exactly do you mean by that?”
“Some poor fool will end up doing it for you.”
“You talk a lot of nonsense, you know that Kolya?”
“That is absurd! Your implications wound me,” Nikolai said in mock-offense, making the other chuckle.
They might have lived in a rat-infested, filthy, overpriced hellhole but at least they had each other.
“So, how was clown school?” Fyodor said, knowing it would get a rise out of the other.
“How dare you insult the glorious institution known as theatre school!? You should be ashamed of yourself, Fyodor! But it was very nice, thank you for asking,” Nikolai responded, playfully enraged.
“Any new casting opportunities?”
“Sadly not, but I did make some extra cash today. Maybe you don’t have to work that hard tomorrow.”
“Although I appreciate the thought, you know that’s not how salary works.”
“Yeah, I know. That boss of yours is a real slave driver.”
“Trust me Kolai, I know. Productivity only gets punished with more work so I only do what is necessary,” Fyodor tried to reassure but he could tell the other was worried about him.
“’To suffer is to be human’ or something,” Fyodor tried to quote.
“Oh, and whose words are that?”
“I don’t know, Buddha maybe. Could very well be Fitzgerald’s personal motto. For everyone except himself that is, I can smell his god complex from two continents away. He does not care how many workers will die from exhaustion, he only cares about the profits!”
“You read too much Marx.”
“There is no such thing as too much anti-capitalist literature. Besides, can you really tell me that I’m wrong here? We need to rally the power of the working class and unionize against our capitalist overlords. Only then do we stand a chance to improve our lives and establish communism,” Fyodor laughed on his small power trip.
“I should roll up that communist manifesto lying on the coffee table and swat you before you get any ideas.”
“Oh no, I am so scared,” Fyodor said visibly unscared.
“Not fair. I can’t even tease you back. I should just throw it out the window then. At least then you won’t be able to read it anymore.”
“Comrade, you know that’s not my only copy.”
Nikolai sighed endearingly, “Yeah, I know.” This wasn’t their first banter on economic philosophy. Nikolai was supportive of his ideas but even he, who had a tendency to blindly idolize the man in front of him, knew that Fyodor might one day take it too far. So, Nikolai tried to watch out for him before Fyodor made himself a martyr in a bar fight. He could talk big words but he was of rather frail statue.
“You know, picking up a book every once in a while, won’t do you as much harm as you think it will.”
Nikolai wrinkled his nose in disgust. “You think I’m becoming an actor to spend my time reading?”
“You still have to ready the scrips, you know?”
“Fedyaaa, don’t remind me of that, you know how much I hate reading,” Nikolai said and kicked his legs like a child for comedic effect.
“You also require me to read you a bedtime story?”
“Are you offering?”
“Are you actually considering it?” Fyodor asked incredulously.
“Depends on what you are reading.”
“Das Kapital,” Fyodor said smugly but the other was already getting up.
“Nope, I’m out of here. Good night Comrat,” Nikolai said. Before he exited the room, he halted in the doorway to look back at a snickering Fyodor. Seeing his friend this happy made him smile as well.
“Please don’t stay up too late, Fedya,” he said and left the room before the other could protest.
Despite being two very broke students, living together felt all too domestic. Home could be anything as long as they were together. It was rather ironic considering neither of them got to experience a healthy home life when they were kids but at the same time, they never noticed it missing until they had each other.
Neither of them was certain about what they were.
When they first met, they weren’t exactly friends. They were allies. Allies against a horrible world. Fyodor had too many trust issues to consider anyone a proper friend and Nikolai never got to experience a mutual friendship before.
Even now, he sometimes wondered if Fyodor only kept him around for his ability but surely there had to be more to it than using him to steal avocados from the supermarket. He sure as hell wasn’t going to pay 270 Rubles for one measly avocado either way.
He was fine with being used as a tool if it was for Fyodor. The only thing he had ever been certain of was that Fyodor was the one who saved him from the clutches of his religiously manipulative mother. And when he couldn’t trust his own thoughts, he could always rely on Fyodor to keep him grounded. Nikolai had finally gotten closer to not completely hating himself.
He knew he was nowhere close of attaining his ultimate goal of becoming as free as a bird but something inside the marrow of his bones told him that he had to follow this man if he wanted to achieve the freedom he so desperately longed for.
Nikolai still found himself biting his tongue whenever he thought to speak something sinful. His mother was still lurking in the corners of his mind to remind him of what a failure to the lord he had become but whenever he looked at Fyodor, her voice was a lot quieter.
He knew that Fyodor was no perfect man. He could be a coldhearted bastard, he had gotten into countless fights based on his ideologies, he put on the roll of toilet paper the wrong way and he might have very likely killed a few people but none of that was something Nikolai couldn’t see past. Okay, maybe the toilet paper was going to become an issue but he was sure it wasn’t something enough nagging couldn’t fix.
Yes, at times Nikolai felt like Fyodor was no man at all, but that could only mean he was destined for something greater. Fyodor had the courage to stand up to his mother when he couldn’t. He was his savior, and Nikolai would make sure to stay by his side until the very end because, in Nikolai’s eyes, he owed him his life.
Throughout all the time they had spent together, one could say that they had indeed become friends. Perhaps even more than that but neither of them felt the need or wanted to talk about their relationship.
They enjoyed lying on top of one another other, blissfully covered by the veil of telling themselves their couch simply was too small and one couldn’t sit comfortably any other way. Fyodor didn’t stop Nikolai whenever he started to play with strands of his black hair and Nikolai liked to put his arm around the frailer man when he had fallen asleep on his chest again.
Fyodor would never admit to it out loud, but he enjoyed their casual touches as well. It made him feel a little warmer when every other part of him was too cold.
Both of them were happy with what they had, although, on occasion, Nikolai caught himself chasing fleeting thoughts of being allowed to call the other truly his, but he shut himself down before the thought could sprout into anything greater.
And so, he ignored the way his heart fluttered every time he was able to make the cold man laugh. It was such a beautiful laugh that probably only he got to hear. He ignored how adorable Fyodor looked when he had put on the wrong overcoat by accident due to his sleep deprivation. He ignored how happy he felt, every time the other came home from a long day and they could share a meal whilst talking about anything and everything. He was far too much of a coward to admit any of it.
Not to Fyodor and not to himself. He was too afraid of what might change between them. He couldn’t risk driving the other away, not ever. He feared he would never forgive himself if Fyodor were to abandon him.
And besides, he was happy with the way things were between them. There wasn’t even the need to change anything, right?
Nikolai’s throat felt a little tight as he went to bed. He brushed off the ludicrous thoughts in hopes of not dwelling on them. He feared becoming overwhelmed by his emotions again, so it was better to not feel at all, he foolishly told himself.
This was also why he longed to be free of all kinds of emotions. They were just too much for him to bear.
That very same night, he was plagued by a nightmare. The same nightmare he had so many times before.
He knew he wasn’t with his mother anymore, he reminded himself of that every day, but it all felt so terribly real.
He was in that church again, on his knees, hands clasped together, mimicking a prayer while his mother stood in front of him.
“Please, oh God, help Nikolai return to his normal self! Help him overcome his homosexual behavior so he can be my son again. I am a good mother. I do not deserve the devil for a son!” She cried.
He didn’t understand what he had done to cause her such great distress at the time. Now, looking back, it truly was idiotic of him to kiss that stable boy. He should have known it was wrong but how could it be wrong when everything had felt so right?
He felt a sudden jerk as invisible threads pulled him to his feet.
“The Lord has heard our prayers, mother,” his throat moved on its own, but he could recognize his own voice. Right, ‘our’ prayers. The word tasted like bile on his tongue. As if he ever knew how to pray, he only mimicked what made his mother smile at him.
Being forced to relive that scene as the person he was today, was the greatest torture his mind could have conjured. Now knowing how wrong everything was that had seemed so normal at the time only served to highlighted how truly fucked up he was; Of how fucked up he had made himself.
He wanted to scream at his past self. Tell him to run away from what was to come. Tell him that he didn’t have to hate himself because he couldn’t please his mother. He wanted to tell him all the things he had learned and how he was going to get better, but he had no voice in which to speak.
He was the sole audience to this twisted play. Trapped in his own body and forced to relive his transmutation into a mannequin. In here, he still was a marionette of the past.
“I am cured,” His past-self continued to lie. Hot tears were streaming down his face. Those were indeed words he once said.
He knew lying was a sin. He had to be a demon to even dare to lie in the house of god. His past self just wanted her to be his mother again. He didn’t know what he had done wrong but surely there must have been something, there had to be, he was just too stupid to figure it out. He truly was pathetic, wasn’t he? What an Idiot. A god damned fool!
The invisible wires were cutting into his skin, pulling him towards her and he felt nothing but fear. Nowadays he knew what kind of monster she was but he still couldn’t help but shake and comply whenever he was faced with her image in his dreams.
He tried to resist but the pain was too much for him to bear, making him stumble. His mother’s mouth twisted into a wicked grin, reflecting what she was actually like on the inside.
He could feel his heart beating out of his chest. He wanted to scream but nothing would stop the merciless threads until his arms clung tightly around the woman responsible for the scar on his left eye. It was from when she first heard word about Nikolai and the stable boy.
She then began to stoke his blonde hair, her every touch burning his skin, making him want to peel it off but as soon as she started, she also stopped.
“Dear boy,” she said in a cold voice. “I know you are lying.”
She pushed him away, making him fall to his knees once again. That’s right, on the ground was where he belonged. He wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole to bring him even closer, but his mother would not grant him such a kindness.
Instead, she pulled him up by the chin, forcing him to look her in the eye. She then raised her hand to strike him.
Again. And again. And again.
He took every single one with a smile on his face because he deserved it. That’s right, he wanted this. There never were any wires to begin with. He chose this of his own free will.
That is when he finally woke up. His was sweat drenched shirt and tightly clinging to his back. It took a few minutes until he was in complete control of his breathing again.
It’s been years since he had last seen his mother but he was still plagued by the nightmares. He only ever wanted to make her happy, part of him still does but he curses the part of himself which is prone to such foolish emotions.
He was far too soft to live in this world. His emotions had brought him nothing but pain so far. Nikolai wished to be more like Fyodor in that regard.
But even if he got overwhelmed again, having Fyodor by his side always seemed to calm him down. His stoic presence served to reassure Nikolai that things were going to be alright, that he was in control and had a plan for what was to come because he always did.
Just thinking about Fyodor had the same effect on him for reasons Nikolai wasn’t ready to unpack yet. It would have been ever better if he had been with Nikolai in person, but he wouldn’t dare intrude upon the few precious hours of sleep Fyodor was able to find.
Instead, he went into the kitchen to get a glass of water. 5:46 the wall clock read. Going back to sleep felt like a waste of time. It was Saturday and neither of them had any plans. Nikolai wasn’t used to being awake in the early morning hours, but he needed something to occupy his thoughts before they started going in circles.
Going for a morning walk felt like a sound idea. Thus, it gave him the opportunity to observe the sunrise, which he hadn’t done in a while.
Nikolai quickly returned to his room to get changed. He briefly marveled at his hand tailored overcoat, one of the few expenses he allowed himself to have. It made him feel like a different person whenever he wore it out in public. Somehow more powerful and Sophisticated.
Fyodor had said, it looked good on him.
Sure, it hadn’t come cheap but at least it also had a practical use. Nikolai adored dressing himself up in costume, wearing this coat was hardly any different. Today, he was going to masquerade as an esteemed gentleman during the few morning hours that only concealed his identity further. Being somebody else, that’s what he needed right now.
He ran his gloved fingers along the white fur lining of the collar before he finally decided to wear his coat, put on his top hat and silently closed the door behind himself.
“Sneaking out, are we?” the stern voice of his landlady startled Nikolai. “People might believe you’ve stolen that coat of yours.”
It truly was a curse that Alyona Ivanovna occupied the apartment right below theirs. They rarely ran into each other on the stairwell but it looked like she had just come in from the outside.
“Good morning, Miss Ivanovna,” Nikolai greeted with a way too formal curtsey, but Alyona only scoffed at the gesture. “I assure you that I am not your common crook. All my garments have been purchased through legal means only.” He felt the need to rectify, holding a hand to his chest.
It was rather ironic that Nikolai carried a butterfly knife and a small pack of weed in his coat pocket, but Alyona didn’t need to know that.
“Heavens, half the town already thinks I am housing two fags, you don’t have to give them a reason for it as well.” Her words stung but Nikolai tried his best to keep a polite smile on his face.
“Both of us are very grateful to you for letting us stay under your roof, ma’am,” Nikolai lied.
“As you should be. Living ain’t cheap these days. My place is excellent for what I’m leasing you.”
Yeah, right. As if she knew what she was talking about. Or contributing anything meaningful to society as a matter of fact. His conversation with Fyodor from last night bubbled up in his mind. The knife Fyodor had gifted him some years ago felt heavier than usual in his pocket.
Noticing a change in his own thinking patterns, Nikolai cleared his throat to catch himself before he did anything irrational.
“So, what brings you out on a fine day like this? I rarely ever see you leave the house,” he tried to stir their conversation in a different direction.
“I do not see how my affairs are of any interest to you. But if you really must know, I just finished business with a client. He was a desperate young fellow indeed. Trading a beautiful cross like this for only a few thousand rubles. Quite the steal, don’t you think?” she bragged and held up an ornate, silver crucifix on a beaded string she wore as a necklace. What a steal indeed.
But injustice or not, it reminded Nikolai far too much of the one hanging above the fireplace in his childhood home. The one he pretended to pray under for so many years.
“It was thoroughly wasted on him so I must have done both of us a favor. God would have wanted to see something as beautiful as this be put to better use.” She went on justifying her own greed.
“I will personally make sure that it finds the right hands. Say, Nikolai, would you be interested in looking after it? I reckon you could stand getting closer to god.”
The sudden question hit him like a freight train, but he didn’t get time to react.
“On second thought, I don’t think you have anything worth praying for,” she laughed. “I will see to find someone better suited. Maybe I will even keep it myself. But farewell for now, Nikolai,” Alyona said before she closed the door to her own apartment.
Nikolai had to grip the staircase railing to steady himself.
That woman. That awful, terrible woman. He loathed every interaction he had with her. She was a creature of pure bitterness. Withered old rack of bones that never hesitated to stoop low enough to kick someone on the ground.
He had to take every mean spirited comment with a smile on his face because she was his landlady.
Nikolai couldn’t fathom how much she reassembled his mother in that instant.
And there was nothing he could do about it.
No, that’s wrong. There was something he could do.
Fyodor was right. She was a louse on society. Just like his mother had been. No one would miss her if she were to die. Quite the opposite. People would sing the murderer’s praises, rejoice, dance and spit on her grave.
They would feel the same way Nikolai did after Fyodor went into that room with his mother, of which she never came out again. It would be a kindness to society to finally dispose of the leech that had been sucking the lifeblood out of them for far too long. No, it would be a kindness to this world.
But still, he was only a man, standing in front of a locked door. He heard Alyona close the two locks to her apartment.
But he wasn’t an entirely ordinary man. He was wearing his overcoat.
-
Fyodor awoke to the sound of agitated footsteps pacing up and down the corridor outside of his bedroom.
He finally stirred when he saw Nikolai standing in his doorway. He had to blink a few times before he noticed the blood clinging to Nikolai’s clothing.
“I fucked up.”