Valentines Oneshot

Bathed in Red

It'd been another normal day, well as normal as a day could get for two International terrorists. But, it is also February 14th, and Nikolai, one of the said terrorists, planned a special surprise for Fyodor. They weren't in a relationship with one another but that doesn't mean one can't hope. Nikolai was pining, pining hard for Fyodor. Nikolai would die for Fyodor but that could not be said the other way around, after all, why would a king sacrifice himself for a mere pawn? Besides, if they were in a relationship it'd be nothing short of toxic no doubt ending in one of them six feet under.

Of course, before that would happen, Nikolai would have fun with the religious terrorist. They're gonna be trapped here for a while until things blow over anyway, why not exploit that? He's sure the other knows he's planning something, he is Nikolai after all, but there's no saying that he knows exactly what, his skill opening up more doors on that front. He had planned for a wonderful night full of wine, baths, cake, and perhaps something more, but who's to say? Nikolai originally planned for blood but he couldn't obtain enough of it, not having any proper place to store it without clotting. It'd also be an utter bitch to clean that much blood out of their white and black wardrobes.

The only problem with his plan was the unpredictability of the Russian. There were several possibilities of what would happen, but Nikolai figured there was a good chance it would end how he wanted. Most stemmed from the several miscommunications that could have happened between the two, and Nikolai taking something the other said the wrong way. There's no saying that Fyodor ever actually returned his advances, he could've been mistaken about Fyodor flirting back, or maybe leading Nikolai on was just a form of entertainment for him. Who knows with the always planning Dostoyevsky, maybe he needed Nikolai to be attracted to him for something, or maybe he wanted a more loyal pawn. Well here's to hoping that wasn't true and Fyodor at least returned his sexual attraction. And if it didn't it's not like Gogol didn't usually make a fool of himself for entertainment's sake. He could play it off. He hoped he'd been hard enough to read so the other man couldn't immediately read through him if it came to that.

Originally he wanted to make the cake by hand, but after thinking it over he came to two conclusions, he couldn't bake for shit, and cooking anything like that would tip off part of the "surprise" to the other man. So as one does, he used his skill to steal one that would be far better than anything he could cook up himself. It looked good too, surely someone had ordered this in advance for the romantic holiday, which made the cake all the better. It only had a little frosting he would need to scrape off the top, just the irrelevant name of whoever this was meant for. It had a beautiful finish on it, cream cheese icing with cherry sauce dripping off the edges adding a charming contrast between the two. There were also swirls of whip cream scattered across the top as well as cherries.

Sadly, the cake wouldn't be properly enjoyed, and neither would all the red wine he snagged. He knew that was true no matter how the night went. It wouldn't be that much of a loss if the night went as planned, and if it didn't it's not like he purchased any of it. The other annoyance was their arrangements. The flat they "found" was strange but it worked for what they needed right now. It was a cosy little safe house to wait for everything to blow over. The woman that used to live here truly made it homely, there were potted plants everywhere even in the bathroom. Several other knick-knacks were lying about. She even had those fake fruits that every white woman has in a basket, impractical but homie. Especially strange that it was exclusively grapes. But who was he to judge a dead woman's design choices? They'd also made a mess of the place when looking for anything valuable and never bothered picking it up.

He'd make it work in the end, he'll just have to figure out how to get from point A To point B. It was just annoying the distance he'd have to go from the kitchen table to the bathroom adjacent to the bedroom, thankfully, it wasn't on the right of the bedroom and was closer to the weird living room kitchen. That wouldn't be a problem if his advances didn't go his way through, but he chose not to think about that. If he had been right about Fyodor checking him out though?! Then that'd be great. He was also hoping he wasn't too suspicious last night, getting enough wine to bathe in had been a bit of a chore to tuck away, but he did eventually find a suitable place nearby. Hopefully without alerting the other, sharing a flat made keeping surprises more difficult than he thought. He usually disappeared for hours at a time, but the other was far too perceptive.