Chapter Text
"Oh?” Mitya looked curiously at the gift box on his desk. It was purple and rather small, not much longer than his hand, and about the same width as his arm, with a black ribbon tied around it.
He knew exactly what it was, though; how could he not? A couple days ago, when Valeriy was dragging him away from his (extended) lunch break, his poor pen was left behind at the table.
Honestly, it wasn't that big of a deal. Mitya has been a scientist for years—naturally, he has plenty of pens and pencils in almost every room of his house to use if he really wanted. His mentor was very adamant about always having materials on hand.
He really only threw a fit to annoy Valeriy.
"Sarge! How am I meant to work without proper supplies? Without a pen, my productivity will be significantly lower! I may as well just continue on my break at this point, don't you agree? I can’t get any work done like this!”
Is what he'd said about five or twenty times until Valeriy waved him off with a simple “I'll take care of it.”
So this is what he meant… Mitya smiled, taking the fountain pen out of the box. It was sterling silver, with intricate patterns of atoms and molecules carved into the metal—rather expensive, no doubt.
It was perfectly suited to his tastes. Not to mention beautiful. This was far more than just "taking care of it." Valeriy outdid himself.
At most, Mitya was expecting the Major to simply hand him a new one and apologize, and at least he was expecting one of Valeriy’s subordinates to deliver the pen to him in his stead.
This exceeded all of Mitya's expectations by far.
A gift from Valeriy…
Sure, the man's given him a snack here and there when the scientist complained that he was starving or had low blood sugar, maybe a drink if he needed one, but he's never received a genuine present before.
Who cares if Valeriy bought it because he complained, Mitya knows he knows that he had more at home. And, even if he didn't, he had no reason to shell out for a more expensive pen. He must've either commissioned it as soon as Mitya finished complaining, or at least he doesn't think this is something you could regularly find in stores.
It's exciting honestly, Mitya can feel his heart racing. And, if the fanning his scarf is attempting to do is anything to go off on, it seems his face may be heating up too.
But really, how else is he supposed to react? Again, it's his first time getting a gift from Valeriy!
He's never even received a birthday gift from the man...
To tell the truth, if it wasn't for the fact that Mitya is sure Valeriy knows every bit of available information about him, he'd almost think he forgot his birthday each year due to the lack of gifts, not to mention his rather curt tone whilst giving Mitya his birthday wishes.
Mitya won't say he needs gifts, but he certainly likes to get them.
Though, if you wanted to do some mental gymnastics and stretch the definition, then the closest Mitya's gotten to receiving a gift from Valeriy before this has been Valeriy handing him his packages.
Yes, that's right, his packages. It's dramatic to say the least.
Anytime Mitya gets a new piece of furniture or decor, the Major insists upon making sure there are no hidden bombs, listening devices, etc. He's so extra with it too—in Mitya's professional opinion— always taking it away to his office to inspect. Only after he's finished does the scientist get his belongings back. This can take anywhere from 30 minutes to days depending on if Valeriy has the time to inspect whatever it is.
If Mitya recalls correctly, the Major's also inspected his house a few times too, because Valeriy is nothing if not overly cautious (paranoid).
But, regardless, regardless, the point is that this is a tremendous leap in progress!
His dear Sarge is finally dropping all these silly little formalities. He knew the man loved him deep down. All it took was a bit of pushing to get those feelings to the surface. And to think they say you can't force these things! He laughed.
Well, Mitya should return the favor shouldn't he? This calls for some sort of celebration anyway.
Hm…Maybe Mitya should go off to the theater a bit earlier today? That way Valeriy would be able to arrive just before the performance starts. Then, they can watch it together!
Yes, genius! Call it a theater date!!! Or just a hangout, that's fine too.
All things considered, Mitya isn't picky. One day it'll be a proper date, but this game of cat and mouse is the most fun he's had the past few years. So, if things stay stagnant for just a bit longer, he doesn't mind.
As they say: "Good things come to those who wait." And Mitya has certainly waited.
Grinning, he picks up his brand-new pen and tucks it into his pocket alongside his notebook before making a break out of the building and to the theater. A couple fatui tried stopping him before he went, but he simply ignored them.
Nobody but Valeriy had the honor of tracking him down, let alone being his date to one of Miss Vodyanista's performances.
Yes, some would call him cocky, naive even, for assuming Valeriy will not only arrive on time, but will stay with him to watch the troupe’s show instead of dragging him right back to work. But Mitya prefers to think he simply knows the Major better than anyone else.
As a scientist does, he's conducted his research and studied Valeriy's habits endlessly. That man would walk deep into the mountains, risk dying of hypothermia, if he thought there was even a chance Mitya ran off there on one of his escapades.
Mitya is never wrong about these things.
…
Or maybe, just maybe, even someone as brilliant as Mitya is wrong sometimes.
That's always a possibility for sure…!
Every notable scientist in Teyvat's history has suffered a moment where their hypothesis failed or, you know… had YEARS of research disproven in a single second.
Under normal circumstances, Mitya would take a failure as an opportunity for growth. Right now, however? He's beyond frustrated. Pissed may be a more appropriate word, actually.
Valeriy not only didn't watch the show with him, but the man didn't even show up.
The scientist spent upwards of three hours at the theater, went to Podvorye for a meal afterwards—spending about two hours there, mind you— and his bodyguard never showed face. Not even one of his subordinates came to check on him.
SERIOUSLY, WHAT THE HELL…??? Mitya stormed into his house, his scarf shutting the door behind him.
Just who did Valeriy think he was???
He's supposed to be his BODYGUARD. Mitya could've been attacked, kidnapped, or even killed!
Mitya isn't some strong military member with years of combat experience, he doesn't even know how to hold a sword or a bow. He is fragile and weak and–
…Well, to be fair, so long as he has his stellar linchpin, Mitya is strong enough to defend himself from most potential attackers, and he's actually quite strong physically, but still! Valeriy has a job he's supposed to be doing. What are they paying him for today? To ignore the crap out of Mitya???
(Yes, Mitya is aware he was other duties. But isn't he the priority right now?)
And, outside of his duty, had all of this just meant nothing to Valeriy? Something he could become bored of so easily? Mitya thought the Major loved chasing him around Snezhnaya; he thought they were having fun.
No, not just having fun.
They were supposed to be having fun together.
Damnit, Mitya had even been so bold as to assume they were flirting with each other. He thought they were in love, or, at least, falling in love.
Mitya did his best to hold back the tears in his eyes as he racked his brain for any possible explanation. Yet, the only explanation he could think of only made his eyes burn.
The conclusion he came to? That the fountain pen was a parting gift—one last act of kindness before Valeriy made it clear all they'd ever be is charge and bodyguard.
Valeriy was kind in that way. Despite how he may seem, all strict and rigid, so long as it's still efficient, he'll always try to do what causes the least damage possible. It's one of the things Mitya adored about him, but right now?
Honestly?
...
FUCK THAT.
Enraged, Mitya took the pen out of his pocket and threw it against the wall, flinching when the ink cartridge broke.
He let out a bitter laugh.
There went his clean wall!
Another laugh.
Oh, and his clean floor!
Mitya must've laughed for about three minutes until it turned into choked sob.
And, with that choked sob, went any anger Mitya could hold against Valeriy. He was pathetic.
He really thought it'd make him feel better to destroy the pen; that's how it always works in the books he reads and the plays he watches, so then why in Celestia was he still so heartbroken?
Mitya sighed. “A simple ‘no’ would've sufficed, Sarge,” he muttered, sniffling lightly as he walked over to where he'd thrown the pen, his scarf making sure to grab a couple of disinfectant wipes along the way.
They couldn't leave this mess here.
The ink was sure to stain regardless, but Mitya couldn't let it worsen. The less prominent the stain is, the less he'll notice it afterwards and be reminded of this heartbreak.
He hasn't cleaned often in the past years—being a busy scientist with an entire team dedicated to your well-being will do that to you— but he's not incompetent (despite what the tabloids will want you to believe). Later he'll whip up a solution to minimize the stain as much as possible, but, for now, the first thing he needs to do is gather the pieces of metal and wipe up the ink.
Mitya pauses then, hand hovering above the mess.
Silver sterling…
Valeriy really hadn't spared any expense on destroying Mitya's heart and soul, did he? There were definitely cheaper options for fountain pens than what he'd bought…there's no way someone as meticulous as the Major didn't know that.
It was so expensive, and Mitya destroyed it in less than a day.
Honestly, thinking about it, maybe this is why Valeriy rejected him. Mitya’s childish, isn't he? Throwing a hissy fit when something doesn't go his way on top of always running away from his responsibilities.
The other scientists and Fatui soldiers sure think so. Archons, even the common folk agree. Mitya has seen the newspaper articles about how Project Stuzha would've been completed sooner if he just stopped fooling around. Of course, they don't know what had really been going on the entire time, but that doesn't mean there wasn't potentially any truth to the statement.
If Mitya hadn't been so frequently distracted by his escapades, maybe he would've paid more attention to the gaps in his memory. It's a scientist's duty to pay attention to the world around him and question the peculiar.
Mitya, hailed for being one of the best and brightest in the nation, failed to do even that.
Isn't that embarrassing?
“Why, the other day I saw Mr. Mitya running from his security detail and hiding out in the theater! A grown man, a scientist, acting like such a child? Absolutely incorrigible! Has he no shame!?”
And, putting it bluntly, he doesn't. Miya has never seen his “immaturity” as a flaw—he vehemently believed that wonder was an important trait for a scientist, one that fueled curiosity— but maybe he should reconsider. It's not like it'd change much, though. Mitya's not sure if he's truly capable of being mature like Valeriy is.
He hasn't even gone by his given name for about a decade at this point. The moment he realized his nickname was indeed a viable option, he dropped any semblance of formality.
The name Dmitri is one that hasn't been spoken in regard to him in so long. There are times he even forgets Mitya isn't his name, that if he were to die, Dmitri is what his tombstone would read.
If he could, he'd erase all record of that name. He isn't Dmitri. Never has been, and never will be.
Mitya is Mitya. Nothing less and nothing more.
The only rules he believes in are those of science—anything else is more of a suggestion to him. He sees no reason to be bound down by societal norms.
But, unfortunately, that means he's typically more of a nuisance than help.
More of a pest than a friend.
More of a job than a lover.
And, above all, it means he's more of a concept than an ideal.
If he stopped running for even a moment, maybe he'd improve. He doesn't want to change, but, as he is now, it's no wonder Valeriy had to put a tracker in his pen just to keep an eye on him.
...
Wait.
What…?
Mitya did a double take, snapping himself out of his depressive thoughts and frantically rummaging through the ink and broken pieces of metal until he found it.
A small chip blinking red.
Something that had no place being in a pen.
No doubt about it...
A tracker.
After checking with his scarf that he wasn't hallucinating, that there really was a tracker in his pen, Mitya's sadness began to fade, a hopeful smile spreading across his face.
Could it really be?
Did Valeriy care about him enough to–!
His scarf hit him on the back of his head.
Right. Mitya shook his head, understanding what the piece of fabric was trying to communicate.
Once could mean anything.
It could mean absolutely everything or absolutely nothing at all.
He shouldn't get ahead of himself. Hoping for too much will just leave you disappointed in the end.
Besides, he'd just realized how awful he'd be to love. Even if Mitya's trying to shake off that little...breakdown, he can't deny it's left doubts in his mind.
He needs much more evidence before he can even entertain the idea of Valeriy doing something so deranged over him of all people.
There really is a big chance it could mean nothing.
Maybe Valeriy only did this to fulfill his bodyguard duties whilst keeping a distance from the scientist…? It’s a strong possibility.
But, on the other hand, Valeriy is also a stickler for the rules. Mitya isn't very well versed in Snezhnaya’s laws, but he's almost 100% sure it's illegal to place a tracker on someone without consent if they aren't a criminal—which Mitya is very pointedly NOT, for the record.
No one who introduces themselves with a long title such as "Major Valeriy, head of the Special Assignments Battalion Armory Palace Royal Grenadier Guards, First Regiment" would break the law over something or someone they didn't care about.
Tsarista, this was going to drive Mitya crazy if he didn't get an answer.
Somehow, someway, Mitya needed to confirm his suspicions. The hardest part was figuring out how he'd even be able to substantiate such a crude accusation.
Mitya sat there, hands covered in ink, thinking and thinking till it finally clicked.
He gasped, quickly standing up and walking—borderline sprinting— down the hall to his office, almost tripping as he made a sharp right turn into the room.
How didn’t Mitya think of it sooner? He’d thought back to it earlier in the day, so it should’ve been the very first thing that came to mind upon his new discovery!
"Idiot." he can practically hear his scarf berate him. Such a judgemental little thing, but he pays it no mind, too focused on what could be a major lead for this case.
See, Mitya remembered his lovely Major Valeriy checks all of his packages away from the eyes of everyone, including the scientist himself. He’s even inspected his house before on multiple occasions.
If Valeriy were to have hypothetically indulged in any…depraved methods for monitoring him, the likelihood that his personal belongings and furniture have been bugged is high: about 96.3%. The remaining 3.7% is in the off chance Valeriy only took to bugging his office at the Armory Palace—hypothetically, of course.
Mitya spends the most time in his office out of any other room in this house, so it seems only logical that this be where he starts.
Yes, contrary to popular belief, Mitya didn't like sleeping very much. Occasionally he'd go weeks without lying in his bed. There's simply too much to do—too many thoughts to be had, too many experiments to be run, and equations to complete— for Mitya to even think about resting.
The wonder of life lies within the natural world. Sure, his head may seem up in the clouds, but all his thoughts are grounded in the beautiful, convoluted puzzle of reality.
He'll gladly take a nap whenever and wherever he needs to; being well-rested is important for maximum cognitive function, after all. But he's not particularly excited to get into bed by any means.
Sleep only draws him away from what he loves. And, with how much he rants about every little thing on his mind, he's undoubtedly mentioned this to the Major on at least several different occasions.
So Mitya will check his office first and work his way down to his bedroom.
Point-to-point search is what Valeriy told him it's called—checking the areas with the most likely amount of evidence to the areas with the least likely. (And yes, he will be checking the bathroom. It's not that he thinks Valeriy is a pervert, he's just being thorough.)
He knew something good would eventually come from all his questioning about the Major's job. Although, Valeriy knows way too much about investigating than he should considering his position. Mitya thinks he may have been some sort of detective in the past. That or he's just way too good at his job.
“You really are a mystery, Sarge…” he smiled, letting out a surge of electro—not enough to cause damage to the room, but enough to hopefully disable any potential bugs, “and, I fully intend on figuring you out.”
And, by the time Mitya was finally done combing through his house, his determined, hopeful smile had transformed into an almost manic grin. He shared a fist bump with his scarf as he stared at the pieces of technology spread across his desk.
24.
That's how many bugs he'd found.
12 hidden cameras and 12 wiretaps.
An even number. It seems that, even for something as fucked as this, Valeriy still prioritized order and rules above all.
“Archons…he's perfect!” Mitya giggled, a blush spreading across his face, his scarf swaying rapidly behind him in agreement.
There was no way the Major didn't love him, Mitya may have been wrong about something earlier but this time he was right. He had to be. Earlier must've merely been a fluke. Perhaps Valeriy and his team got themselves busy with a last minute assignment?
What matters is that Valeriy's been watching him, listening in on everything he does, for Celestia knows how long. (And yes, there was a couple bugs in the bathroom as well. Valeriy is a pervert.)
Mitya can't decide if he thinks it's creepy, or if it's endearing. Maybe it's both?
He looked at his scarf. It held up a two fingers.
Yes, both.
The scientist was far too besotted to consider such a passionate display of devotion as anything less than endearing.
Now, all that's left is for Mitya to finally make his affections known to Valeriy so they can be together once and for all.
And he knows just how to do it.
Their game of cat and mouse won't end. It'll simply be moved to a different arena.
Instead of roaming freely, they'll be caged together, unable to indulge in anything but the other. Just them, running and chasing for the rest of their years.
Mitya will make sure there's no chance for Valeriy to back out.
Not to mention that Valeriy needs to feel some sort of repercussion for tugging on his heartstrings so badly.