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“Young Atsushi!” The sophomore student flinches as his theatre instructor bustles up next to him, laying a startling hand in his shoulder as he eyes the sign up board for each role for the end of year performance. “I must say, it’s wonderful seeing you here! Signing up for our little play, are we?”
The student shrugs, hastily tearing his eyes away from the never ending line for the lead role. “I dunno Professor Gogol, it’s a pretty big role and a lot of people are signing up, so-”
“Don’t discourage yourself, my young dove!” Nikolai slaps his shoulder playfully and the boy almost lurches forward with the force. “I’ve seen your skills as an actor before and I know you’d be a shoe in- considering I am the person in charge of casting, after all.”
Atsushi flushes a little bit, looking up at his extravagantly dressed professor. Nikolai’s outfits- once a theme of laughter amongst the students, now simply sparing a few sidelong glances- are never mundane. Today, since it’s a rather exciting occasion with the play coming up and all, he's wearing his crispest white shirt with ruffles at the edge of the sleeves that mimic his neatly braided, but otherwise fluffy long hair. He’s paired the shirt with a pair of black, equally frilly pants and- the piece de resistance of the outfit- a corset engraved with intricate patterns in a slightly brighter colour, however unnoticeable.
His makeup of the day stands out completely- his bright red lipstick only covers the centre of his lips, mimicking a heart shape and two lines trail down his eyes in a similar colour like twin scars. Now, his lips are outstretched in an expectant smile as he watches his student.
“But…my grades…” Atsushi mumbles, looking down at his hands. “The teachers all have to approve of them before I’m eligible to take part…”
“Well, I suppose I should’ve worn my glasses today, because I still don't see a problem.” Nikolai beams, hands on his hips. “Professor Dazai in psychology won’t even blink before sending in your approval, Professor Sigma says you’re doing wonderful in Business and Accounting, Professor Kunikida in Statistics And Data loves having you in his class, even if you are a little behind…”
“But not Professor Dostoyevsky.” Atsushi groans, grimacing as he looks back at the sign up board. “He hates me. I’ll never get his approval letter.”
“Mr. Digital Forensics, huh?” Nikolai grins to himself, ignoring Atsushi’s curious stare. “Now, now, little dove, you mustn’t worry yourself with such trivial matters! I’ll talk to the ice queen myself and reason with him to get my star player in!”
“A- Are you sure? He doesn’t even let the sports kids go to any away games unless they’re at the top of his class.” Atsushi eyes him like he may as well have grown three heads.
“Please, Fyodor dearest hardly ever says no to me!”
_________
“No.” Fyodor hums briskly, tapping away at his computer without even inclining his head. Nikolai stands there, gaping at his colleague.
Fyodor is the oldest member of the staff- a whopping three years older than Nikolai, who comes a close second alongwith the criminology professor, Ranpo- and by far, feared by every student in his class. His attire and personality are the quite opposite of Nikolai’s, further proven by the plain black button up and dark coat he’s wearing over it. His hair is just as dark as his outfit, flowing down to his shoulders as if he didn’t put any thought into it at all. He probably didn’t.
Nikolai sputters now. “Excuse me?”
“You are excused.” Fyodor hums back, taking a sip of his coffee (most likely bitter espresso to match his heart) and looking up, deep purple eyes meeting Nikolai own two toned blue ones. “I have a class anyways, so the last thing I want is distractions.”
“Fyodor, I must ask you to reconsider.” Nikolai leans over on Fyodor’s desk so that the man is forced to keep looking at him. From this close, he can clearly make out the shape of the moles dotted under his left eye and by his lips. “Atsushi is my exact vision for dear Anthony in my script! He’s shy, but determined in his skills and natural leader! How can you sit by and watch him miss this perfect opportunity to grow his confidence.”
“Respectfully, Nikolai, this …play is none of my business.” He says with an air of distaste, using a finger to push Nikolai’s face away from his own. “All I ask of my students is for them not to be bumbling fools in my class and your little star has not met up to this standard as of yet.”
“Fyodor, please.” Nikolai straightens, putting his hands together in a praying motion.
“No.”
“Please.”
“No.”
“I’ll…” Nikolai brightens. “Wash your car!”
“I do not have one, in case you don’t recall.”
“I’ll…bring you lunch every day for the rest of your life.”
Fyodor flicks his metallic flask of coffee. “I pack my own food, I do not need lunch.”
“I’ll…suck your dick!”
“Not right now, thank you.” Fyodor straightens his papers, smiling icily up at Nikolai. “Now, if you’ll take your leave, I have a rather large batch of freshman coming in that would not like to witness you, as you so crudely put it, “sucking my dick.””
Of course the bastard uses air quotes to patronise him. Nikolai inhales sharply, balling his hands into fists and turning around with the flick of his hair. “This conversation is not over, dearest Fyodor.”
“You are entitled to your opinion.” Fyodor hums, leaning back in his chair. Bastard.
Bastard, bastard, bastard.
_________
“-and that is basically my problem.” Nikolai finishes his spiel with a theatrical twirl, stopping his avid pacing to face the board of directors. The older men watch him- some wary, others mildly interested and some…well, Fukuchi’s a common drinking partner of his, so Nikolai supposed he would take the most interest.
“You kidding me? That shit can’t be allowed right?” He looks around at the other three heads around him. “Who legalised that?”
“We did, Fukuchi.” Mori sighs, rolling his eyes. He’s basically the head of the medical department, so he isn’t too familiar with Fyodor, much like the former, who’s the head of the sports department. Mori actually once filed a complaint about Nikolai’s outfits but he’s sure he’s just jealous that he doesn’t have all this to flaunt. “Now, since this isn’t a matter we can really put our hands into, Professor Gogol.”
“But isn’t it unfair if the student is excelling in every other class?” Nikolai asks, gesturing emphatically with his hands.
“Atsushi is by no means “excelling”, Professor Gogol.” Fukuzawa raises the thin file of the student in his hand. “Both Professor Kunikida and Professor Poe have reported his disinterest in their respective subjects. However, I sympathise with your efforts. It is admirable for a teacher to go to these lengths for a student.”
“So you’ll give him a pass…?” Nikolai tries and the head director shakes his head.
“What we’ll do is this: we’ll appeal to Professor Fyodor to allow Atsushi to participate. However, if this request is denied, there is nothing we can do about it and you will have to move on.” Fukuzawa looks around the others to receive their approving nods. When he gets them, he looks back at Nikolai. “We’ll call him in shortly.”
Nikolai grins, bowing theatrically before he turns to leave. “Thank you for your time.”
_________
“Nikolai.”
The man in question jolts in the midst of his conversation with Sigma about a cookie recipe she tried earlier during the weekend. He keeps his smile ever present on his face and slowly turns to face the much shorter teacher, considering Nikolai is six foot three in four inch heels. Fyodor cranes his head up to look at Nikolai as if he’s barely registered their height difference.
“Dearest Fyodor! Good meeting?” He asks, waving goodbye to Sigma as he swivels his body to face his opposite. Fyodor’s eyes flicks down to the hand Nikolai’s using to twirl his hair in a playful motion.
“You could say that.” He mutters, eyes fixed on that particular spot where Nikolai rings his hair around his index finger, catching a slight tangle in the long strands. “But I hope you know my answer hasn’t changed.”
Nikolai feels a twinge of irritation, but beams through it. “You really are a bore, Fyodor.”
“Maybe I just don’t see the point in wasting one’s time in a silly little play that has no benefit for a student’s-”
“Careful, dearest Fyodor, you’ll hurt my feelings.” Nikolai hums pleasantly, his tone stilted. “It was at one of these silly little plays that I was scouted for this very institution!”
“Yes, I recall you telling me that a few nights ago.” Fyodor hums, shuffling with his papers. He does it so pretentiously too, like he has all the time in the world and that Nikolai is boring him already. Bastard. “Now, how about we discuss this later tonight, hm? Maybe your little “star” can convince me to ease his requirement.”
“Fine, then.” Nikolai hums, smiling pleasantly still. “I’m sure we can come to an understanding.”
_________
“I hate you. I hate you so much.” Nikolai mumbles against Fyodor’s chest as he runs a hand through his hair. “You’re the worst. I hope you die.”
“Mykola, can we do this some other time? I’m reading.” Fyodor hums, flipping a page of his novel, his reading glasses perched over the bridge of his nose. Despite being so “busy”, he insists that Nikolai stay as close as possible to him while he reads, or else he can’t concentrate at all.
Oh, and it may not be obvious at first glance, but they’ve been married for four years.
“You promised you’d love and cherish me everyday, you bastard.” Nikolai pouts as Fyodor presses a gentle kiss to his hair, rubbing circles into his back. “All you do is bring me misery.”
“Mhm.” Fyodor tucks a strand of hair behind Nikolai's ear and mumbles against his forehead. “I have an early class with the seniors tomorrow, so I’ll leave coffee for you in the thermos, okay?”
“Fedya, pay attention to me when I’m berating you!” Nikolai whines, looking up at his husband. Fyodor raises his eyebrows, looking away from his book.
“Oh, my sincerest apologies. I believe you were just telling me that all I do is bring you misery?” He offers and Nikolai can tell by that killer smile that he’s teasing him, but he decides to take the bait.
“Yes. And you will continue to do so unless you let Atsushi into the play.” He says, glaring down at Fyodor, his thighs on either side of his hips. His lover rolls his eyes.
“No. My darling, our jobs are more important than a play-”
“A play I spent months writing to perfection.” Nikolai frowns hurtfully, pulling away from Fyodor’s grip. “But I guess my time means nothing to you because your subject is more important than mine-”
“Don’t be like that, my angel.” Fyodor pulls him back by his hand slowly. “You know I love you and value you more than my own life. Your student can just skip this play and-”
“Right, I’m getting ready for bed, then.” Nikolai stands abruptly, pulling away from Fyodor and refusing to look back. “And I’m locking the bathroom door.”
Fyodor chuckles, clearly amused. “Alright, then let me do your hair first. I noticed that it's a little messy from the end.”
“No.” Nikolai looks back with a cutting smile. “I can do it myself thank you.”
This is a low blow. Fyodor has been doing his hair everyday for years since their fifth date and Nikolai can tell he’s clearly affected by this from the way his smile slips before it’s back on and guarded this time.
“Fine, then. We’ll play this game and see who comes out on top.” He hums, picking his book up again.
Nikolai nods, dignified and short. He is not going to lose.
_________
Okay, so their little challenge, Nikolai decides, commenced after their quickie this morning because turtle necks always look so good on Fyodor and what’s a better way to start your day than feeling good and kissing your husband goodbye while he promises to finish where he left off later? Exactly. Nothing.
In fact, this is great news. Now Fyodor thinks that Nikolai’s dropped the subject and will be thrown for a loop when Nikolai initiates the next step of his plan.
The first was the hair and that worked great because, even this morning while Nikolai brushed it out in the mirror, his dear husband was watching him from the sofa over his mug of coffee with quite an obvious pout.
Currently, however, Nikolai is occupied with the casting.
His play is about two men- one a mastermind, the other his loyal lover and servant. The mastermind longs for control of the world and has every aspect of his plan and thinks he’s trampled all his weaknesses, but he forgot about his lover, who ends up being his demise. His lover kills him in the hopes of freeing himself and, when he realises he can never be free of loving the mastermind, he murders himself, joining his lover in hell.
The mastermind has already been casted- Nikolai has chosen Akutagawa, a rather sickly boy who’s dress sense is as dark as his eyes and who’s posh accent fits perfectly for his secondary lead for the role. However, he’s still waiting for Atsushi.
His audition was spectacular- his performance and air is perfect for the role just like Nikolai knew it would be. Still, though, he refuses to get his hopes up and celebrate with the rest of the casted students.
Nikolai sighs now, picking at his outfit for the day (purple makeup with his lips fully painted today, a bright yellow button up that reminds him of daisies and a purple waistcoat paired with deep purple pants) watching his pace back and forth in front of his chair in the professor' office.
Nikolai’s office is the most elaborate out of all the teachers. He has paintings from all his favourite art students, old props he thinks would go to waste on the rather drab pile in the basement and a jar of candies on his desk.
“My dear child, I told you Professor Dostoyevsky will listen to me.” Nikolai waves him off with the roll of his eyes. “I just need a little more time.”
“But I don’t have time!” Atsushi huffs, chewing at his thumb. “If he doesn’t accept it, I’ll have gotten my hopes up for nothing!”
“Atsushi.” Nikolai sits up now, clapping his hands together. “All I need is three days. Today is Friday, right? So I’ll have you that role by Monday. Scouts honour.”
“I don't know…”
“Trust me. I have a plan.”
_________
“Siggyyyy!” Nikolai calls, strutting down the hall towards the business professors room. She looks up from where she’s locking the door behind her to go out to lunch. Poor woman’s paranoid that a student keeps stealing from the jar of biscuits on her desk. (It’s not a student, it’s him).
“Nikolai.” She half smiles, joining him as they walk towards the staff room. A few students turn their heads as they do; it’s a staple for every freshman to have a little crush on Sigma. “How’s your plan going?”
Ah, it’s a good thing he tells his best friend everything. Nikolai playfully hooks their arms together. “It’s Friday night, right? Let’s go clubbing! Grab a drink or two.”
“I have a feeling I’m going to regret this.” Sigma sighs, but smiles anyway. “But it’s been a while since we’ve had some fun. Sure.”
Nikolai beams, trotting ahead of her to claim the nice sofa in the staff room.
_________
“I’m going out, love.” Nikolai announces as he steps out of the bathroom with freshly washed hair. Fyodor looks up from his laptop, eyes flicking down the tendrils of hair that flow down to Nikolai’s waist. “Sigma invited me out to a club.”
“Mm…I don’t really feel like going out, Mykola.” Fyodor yawns, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. “I was thinking we could have the weekend to ourselves, anyways. It’s been a while, has it not?”
Nikolai can sense the playfulness underneath Fyodor’s tone, but simply smiles. “I didn’t say you were invited, darling.”
Fyodor pauses. “I’m sorry?”
“Well it’s been a while since me and Sigma had a proper outing, so we’re doing a little something. Just us.” He grins, looking away again. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Fyodor’s nostrils flare in the mirror. “No. I do not.”
And that’s hard to believe, especially with the way his husband is watching him get ready. Anyone else would hardly notice, but Nikolai’s eyes catch onto the way Fyodor’s eyes subtly flick to his hair that he’s left open now that it’s freshly blow dried and to the rubies in his ears that stick out of them the way blood shines on snow.
He can tell by the way his teeth dig into his thumb just a tad too hard as Nikolai tightens his corset around his waist (by himself!) and lets it bunch the fabric of his silky red shirt. He can tell by the way he rolls his eyes when Nikolai wears the pants that Fyodor says look perfect on him, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like “seriously?”.
“Do I look okay?” Nikolai turns when he’s done with his makeup. He’s painted three small red hearts under one of his eyes today. Fyodor looks like he’s dying to get his hands on him by now, but simply shrugs.
“The usual.” Fyodor hums tactfully and Nikolai rolls his eyes. Unfortunately for his husband, he’s not one for mind games.
He looks down thoughtfully. “Well, then, I suppose I could always wear my harness-”
“I mean wonderful.” Fyodor gasps, running a hand through his hair like he’s exhausted now. “You look absolutely wonderful.”
“You’re so sweet, my dove.” Nikolai coos, strutting over to peck Fyodor’s cheek. He leaves a lipstick stain there with how much force he uses before lowering his voice to a purr. “Don’t wait too long for me~”
_________
God, Nikolai should be out partying more often.
He sways a little drunkenly back to their bedroom, teetering unsteadily on his heels before kicking his shoes off. It’s late at night- how much, though, he can’t tell, but he knows that the moon was full tonight and the air smelled like good drinks and smoke. He giggles to himself, unclipping his earring too as he steps into their room.
Fyodor looks up from his laptop when he enters and his smile feels more like home than their house. “Hey. Good night?”
“Great, actually.” Nikolai laughs, dizzily plopping himself onto the bed and letting Fyodor crawl over to where he is at the foot of the bed. “Haven't had that much fun in so long.”
“Care to make it funner?” Fyodor smirks, leaning down to peck his lips. “You look so good and I missed you a lot, you know? I deserve some attention.”
“Hm…” Nikolai raises his head, deepening the kiss until it's just lustful. “Are you gonna let Atsushi into my play?”
“Really?” Fyodor draws his lips into an irritated line as he pulls away. “Now?”
“Yup. Unless you’re willing to comply.”
“No, Mykola.” Fyodor mutters irritably, shaking his head. “I’m not going to-”
“Then I’m sleeping on the couch.” Nikolai hums, sitting up now and loosening his corset. “Have a nice night.”
“Seriously? All this for a…boy?” Fyodor deadpans rolling his eyes. “And here I planned a whole weekend where we would enjoy ourselves and go out for dinner at a nice place.”
“Too bad, huh?” Nikolai grins playfully, rising to his feet. “Have a nice night, my dove.”
Fyodor grabs onto his wrist. “Please.”
Nikolai grins. “Nope.”
_________
“Where are you headed so early?” Fyodor looks up from where he’s chomping down on his plain bagel while looking through the news on his phone. That’s a habit of his that Nikolai finds odd. Fyodor doesn’t even look at any of his messages when he wakes up, insisting that “the state of the world is more important than Dazai’s current woes”.
“Work.” Nikolai hums, separating his hair in the middle in front of the mirror to get it ready for the twin braids he has planned. “Rehearsal is starting this weekend, so you’ll be seeing a lot less of me this weekend.”
“Are you still on about that?” Fyodor groans, shutting his phone off and spreading cream on his bagel. “Darling, it’s the weekend! Our weekend! You wanted to go shopping, didn’t you?” Fyodor says with a newfound enthusiasm. “I’ll take you myself. On my salary. And we’ll go to that chocolate cafe you like so much.”
“You spoil me, dearest.” Nikolai coos, tying the end of his braid with a deep blue elastic band that goes with his button excellently. “But I am busy, after all. Maybe things would be different if the lead was a certain student of mine and we didn’t have to take so many backup steps just because a certain old man was being mean to his husband.”
“Mykola…” Fyodor massages his temples impatiently, scrunching his brows. “What is it that you want that isn’t this? A car?”
“Nope. I quite like taking the bus. You meet so many nice people!” He hums, buttoning the latch of his white cloak.
“A new house? A dog? One of those huskies you’re always sending me the videos of?” Damn, Fyodor really is desperate.
“Mm…not really, I don’t want fur on my clothes, you know?” He says, idly fixing his hair.
“Children? Do you want kids, Mykola?” Fyodor stands with a manic air to him. “We’ll try for some right now! The old fashioned way.”
Now that’s an idea he could get behind, if it weren’t for the face of a certain awkward child with his knotted hands floating through his mind.
“Save the genetic engineering for later, my sweet.” Nikolai steps into his boots- the ones with the teeny tiny heels but wonderful work on the front. “There. I’ll be back by…say…seven.”
“Seven? Why on earth would you be out so late?” Fyodor gapes at him, walking over, hands on his hips.
“It’s a rather large project, miy yanhol.” Nikolai tucks a finger under Fyodor’s chin and tilts it up to peck the tip of his nose, staining it with vibrant blue lipstick. “Now, have a wonderful day, won’t you?”
“Wait.” Fyodor tugs on Nikolai’s sleeve as he begins strutting to the door. Nikolai looks back, waiting for his husband to continue, but he doesn’t say anything, simply pouting expectantly.
Nikolai smiles dangerously. “If you want a kiss, you should consider letting Atsushi in the play.”
_________
As it turns out, Nikolai really was busy till the end of the day. Rehearsals are going wonderfully- Atsushi and Akutagawa have a natural chemistry that’s so endearing to watch from an audience’s point of view. The sets look great, thanks to Madame Kouyou’s traditional Japanese painting students and blend perfectly with the premise of the script too.
Nikolai comes home in a good mood, humming to himself as he unlocks their home’s main door. Immediately he’s met with the smell of something pleasant and savoury through the air and the usual white lights tinted orange, making the house look more warm and welcoming.
“Welcome home.” Fyodor pokes his head out from the kitchen, hair tied back and glasses set over the bridge of his nose. He’s wearing the black apron he uses for whenever he’s on dish duty, but lacking the rubber gloves (dish soap makes his eczema act up) and instead twirling a wooden spoon on his hand. “Good day?”
Nikolai makes his way to the kitchen cautiously. “You’re…cooking?”
“I thought it was rather obvious.” Fyodor hums, walking back over to the stove where a few pots are bubbling with that divine smell. “Hungry? I’ve made Solyanka.”
“Uh huh…” Nikolai eyes the pots warily as Fyodor walks over, standing on his toes to kiss his cheek.
“As it turns out, I’ve had quite an open window today what with the source of all my plans having been missing for the better part of my afternoon. So…I’ve made dinner.” Fyodor smiles, wrapping his arms around Nikolai. “And I went out to buy that white wine you love so much too, so why don’t you unwind?”
This is a trap, Nikolai realises. This is Fyodor’s counter defence against his previous moves. He’s worked so hard on dinner, which is a lot, considering Fyodor can’t even toast his bread right and bought Nikolai’s favourite drink. He knows Nikolai wouldn’t hurt him by rejecting it altogether.
But…but there’s a kid at risk who’s hoping for his big chance to come up.
“Fedya.” Nikolai whispers, taking his husband’s hand and bringing it up to his lips. “Won't you listen to me?”
“You misunderstand, Mykola. You are the one who started this little wager.” Fyodor smiles pleasantly as he speaks. “I am simply carrying it out.”
“You’re really making me do this?” Fyodor raises a brow in response, challenging him further. Nikolai sighs. Nikolai sighs, long drawn out. “Fine then. I’m not eating.”
Fyodor’s teasing smile immediately slips off of his features. “You can’t be serious.”
“That little kid’s counting on me, my dear. I can’t just…drop it when I promised he’d be able to take part.” Nikolai frowns, making his way out of the kitchen with a heavy weight. “I appreciate all of this you’ve done for me, Fedya. This is…amazing. But Atsushi deserves that lead role.”
Fyodor’s expression is pinched as he furrows his brows. “Mykola, he’s a student you barely know. That’s no reason to skip your dinner.”
“Goodnight, darling.” Nikolai sighs again, walking towards their bedroom and closing the door behind him with a click.
_________
“Mykola.”
“Mm.”
“Mykola.”
“I’m listening, dummy.” Nikolai yawns sleepily, rubbing his eyes. After getting undressed from his usual attire, he slipped on an old t-shirt and shorts and went to sleep as fast as he could to avoid his stomach’s angry growling. He’s in a state that no one’s allowed to see him in, not even Fyodor for too long, so he’s a little pissed at being woken up so early (or is it late?).
“It’s only eleven, darling.” Fyodor whispers and Nikolai realises he’s standing in front of his side of the bed. “Come eat.”
“I told you I’m not…” Yawn. “…gonna.”
“You’re the most stubborn man I’ve met, you know.” There’s something warm and fond in Fyodor’s voice. “Fine. I’ll let your little bird go.”
Nikolai peels one eye open. Fyodor is still dressed in the same outfit- one of his endless casual black hoodies and sweats. “Hm?”
“You heard me, now eat.” Fyodor sighs, the plate of solyanka in his hand that Nikolai hadn’t registered, nothing short of tempting. “Or- even better- move over, I’m feeding you.”
Nikolai sits up slowly, giggling as he pushes his hair off of his face. “You’re such a mom.”
“Incorrect. I am a man who adores his overly dramatic husband dearly.” Fyodor takes a seat on Nikolai’s lap, wrapping his legs around his waist and stabbing the food with a fork before shovelling it into Nikolai’s mouth. “You worry me so much, my dove.”
“It’s not that big of a deal.” Nikolai laughs as Fyodor peppers kisses all over his face, starting from the tip of his nose to his cheeks, then his forehead and finally his chin.
“It is to me. Your little game was fine until you were suffering.”
“I wasn’t “suffering”, Fedya, come on.” But his husband merely shakes his head, feeding him another forkful of food.
“I never want you going to bed unless you’re happy and full and by my side, Mykola.” He says quietly, looking down at the bowl. “If it means making an exception for a student who doesn’t deserve it, then fine.”
“Hm…and you promise you won’t go back on it?” Nikolai asks, setting the bowl aside.
“Promise.” Fyodor kisses Nikolai gently, throwing his arms around him and pressing their bodies together. This is something else he adores about his husband- he just loves physical touch and demands it at almost all times.
“Good, because I wanna fuck now.” Nikolai grins, pulling Fyodor in by his waist.
“Thank god, I thought I’d have to beg.” Fyodor sighs, crashing their lips together passionately, his hands cupping Nikolai’s cheeks as they fall onto the mattress with a rush of laughter.
_________
There is nothing better, to Nikolai in the very least, than watching the sun rise after just deciding that maybe there is a limit to all good things.
“My ass hurts.” Nikolai announces eloquently, his back turned to Fyodor as he detangles his hair adoringly, making sure to separate it into sections before brushing each one out carefully.
“Does it now?” Fyodor hums absently, slowing down as he snags the brush on a tangle. “My apologies. I’ve been quite pent up for a while.”
“I can tell.” Nikolai deadpans, wincing as the brush moves up to his scalp. Fyodor drops a swift apologetic kiss on his shoulder.
“Keep your head straight, dear.” He hums, setting the brush down and beginning to braid the strands into a loose French plait. Nikolai’s hair is long- long enough that even women envy the length and thickness, yet his Fyodor is nothing but patient and eager to master every method of maintaining it possible.
They sit in silence, Nikolai idly sipping the tea Fyodor brewed for his throat as he watches the birds flit past their bedroom window. When Fyodor is done, Nikolai lays back, head on his lap as he looks up at his husband.
“Hi.” He smiles, bringing one of Fyodor’s hands up to his lips.
“Hello.” Fyodor chuckles softly, cupping Nikolai cheek with his free hand. “Nice night?”
“Wonderful, actually. My husband is such a charmer.” He giggles, the post-sex afterglow making his mind feel light and fluffy. “Any plans for today?”
“Well, I have to send an email to a certain brat, approving of something I don't quite agree with.” Fyodor frowns, rolling his eyes.
“Nuh uh, you’re telling him yourself tomorrow. Today’s all about us. I remember a certain someone telling me he’ll take me shopping and treat me to lunch at a chocolate cafe.” Fyodor raises a brow at that.
“Excuse me, that was yesterday when you were-”
“I’ll cut my hair short. Right here.” Nikolai deadpans.
A beat of silence. “Let’s have breakfast first.”
“Yayyy!” Nikolai sits up, enveloping Fyodor in a hug. “I love you. I love you so much.”
Fyodor lets out a sigh. “You are…a pain.”
A lazy grin that feels like warm honey over his features. “I am, aren’t I?”
_________
Atsushi looks between them nervously, his hands knotted together as Fyodor fixes him with one of his icy glares. Nikolai is standing next to him, hands behind his back as he fidgets a little, eyes flitting to Atsushi then back to Fyodor in a pattern.
“Nakajima. You are by far less than a substandard student.” Fyodor begins, voice cold and distant. His “work voice” as Nikolai calls it. “Your grades are average at best, your effort in my class is abysmal and you would, quite frankly, never cross my mind if it weren’t for some…recent events.”
“However.” Fyodor begins again, promptly stopping Atsushi’s attempt to sink into the ground. “Professor Gogol has been quite a…close companion of mine for a long time.” Understatement of the year. “So I take his opinion very seriously. And since he’s put a lot of effort into this play of his and is…quite stubborn on having you as his lead. So for this reason…you have my approval to take part in his play.”
Atsushi’s posture shoots up in an instant, eyes wide. “You’re kidding.”
“Do I look like I am capable of making jokes?” Fyodor scowls with an air of distaste.
“Welcome aboard, Atsushi!” Nikolai steps forward, patting the student’s head. “I tell ya, it wasn’t easy convincing this old broad. No wonder he’s still single, right?”
Atsushi looks like he doesn’t know whether to laugh, cry or frown as he looks between them rapidly. He pauses, lips trembling and hastily pulls Nikolai in a hug. “Thank you, professor.”
Nikolai’s smile is soft as he hugs Atsushi back. “No problem, kiddo. Now, go list your name with my lovely assistant, Naomi. She’s basically running this whole thing, so she’ll help you out.”
“O-Okay.” Atsushi grins, pulling away and bowing a little in Fyodor’s direction. “Thank you, professor Dostoyevsky.”
Fyodor nods as they watch Atsushi rush out of Nikolai’s office in a hurry. Nikolai barely waits longer than a moment before he cups Fyodor’s cheeks and begins stamping kisses all over his face in deep red lipstick. He covers his cheeks, his lips, his forehead and the tip of his nose before eyeing his work critically and redoing his cheeks.
“You want me to suffer, don’t you?” Fyodor sighs, looking back at the door. He has a class in fifteen minutes, which is ample time to make it to his room, but the walk of shame to the bathroom will be delightful.
“Yes I do, my wonderful Fedya!” Nikolai coos, kissing his forehead once more too. “Have a wonderful day dear. And just so you know, Dazai’s on hall duty right about now.”
“I hate you.” Fyodor groans, massaging his temple. “I hope you’re ready for the conduct meeting we’ll have once the news breaks out that we’re together.”
Nikolai giggles at his exasperation. “Don’t worry, I can hardly wait to be able to hold hands in the hallways.”
“You’re juvenile.” Fyodor clicks his tongue impatiently, rubbing his cheeks, but to no avail.
“Good luck!” Nikolai grins as Fyodor backs out of the office, a hand over his face as he closes the door behind him.
After a moment, Nikolai hears a certain psychology professor’s shocked laughter and a wolf whistle and laughs to himself before remembering that rehearsal is going on right about now and rushing out of the room in the opposite direction.
_________
A few months later.
Nikolai bows as Lucy’s parents take her hand and leave the auditorium with satisfied smiles. Opening night has been wonderful, to no one’s surprise. Not one person left with dry eyes, especially after the final scene.
Atsushi was perfect, Nikolai is proud to say. In the final scene where he clutched Akutagawa’s body to himself, there were real tears flowing down his face and so much…emotion in the way his voice quaked.
Nikolai smiles now, adjusting his plain white collar as he walks over to the students, all talking loudly about their own experiences (yes, Nikolai has to be dressed “normal” today because parents are quite sensitive. He’s wearing a white button down and black flowy pants but at the very least he has a pair of long heeled boots underneath them that no one can see).
“Atsushi, Ryunosuke!” Nikolai calls, patting their shoulders in turn. They look up, Atsushi smiling and Akutagawa not quite so, but his face is shining with excitement nonetheless. “What are we still doing here? Clear out, boys. I want my stars celebrating their big debut.”
“We’re all going for ice cream, professor.” Akutagawa explains, his matter of fact tone of voice shaking a little with his own happiness. “Will you be joining us?”
“Afraid not, kiddos! I’ve got an early day tomorrow, so your old man’s gotta head home now.” Nikolai shakes his head with a smile. “Campus shuts down in an hour. Hurry up, now.”
“Good night, professor!” The students call as he trots to the exit of the auditorium and he waves back.
It’s raining heavily tonight, unfortunately, Nikolai notes, shivering as he remembers that he forgot his umbrella. Damn it.
He pushes open the glass doors and pauses.
Fyodor’s smiling at him from the bottom of the steps, an umbrella in one hand and a bouquet in the other. “It seems that I am a little too late to your production.”
“Yeah, but not too much.” Nikolai laughs, walking down the steps to join him underneath the umbrella. He looks at the bouquet. “I really thought you’d be asleep by now…what’s this for?”
“The star of the show, of course.” Fyodor hums, looking up at Nikolai.
“You just missed him, hon, he’s still inside.” Nikolai giggles as Fyodor rolls his eyes dramatically.
“Must you make me say everything to its fullest detail?” Fyodor hands Nikolai the bouquet and knots their hands together. “For my star.”
“Aw, you’re such a sap, Fedya.” Nikolai grins, kissing him gently. “This is beautiful. I love carnations.”
“I know you do.” Fyodor hums as they begin walking home. “How about we grab a drink on the way home? It’s a special occasion.”
“Can I order one of those stupidly expensive cocktail thingies?”
“Of course you can. My treat.” Fyodor smiles, pressing Nikolai closer to himself when he notices rain dropping onto his shoulders. He hums in response, linking their elbows together playfully and leading the way back home.