𝐃𝐎𝐊𝐉𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐒𝐈𝐌𝐏 ¦| Oяv х м.Яєαɒєя |¦

13🍃 - Just Two Weirdos Weirding (2)

"........,"

The morning was still fresh, the sun just beginning to peek over the horizon as [Your Name] and Zhenya found themselves in a quiet spot, stretching and warming up.

If you could ignore the apocalypse happening, it was almost... peaceful.

Almost.

[Your Name] bent down, touching his toes with an exaggerated groan. "Ugh, my back feels like it's made of rubber bands that've been stretched out for, like, ten years."

Zhenya, who was currently in a perfect cobra stretch, looked annoyingly graceful even while doing something as simple as exercising. "Maybe it's because you don't do this enough, Zayka. I don't know how you even survive with such terrible form."

"Please, I survive on vibes alone," [Your Name] shot back, flipping over into a half-assed downward dog. "Besides, who needs form when you've got raw charisma and good looks?"

Zhenya snorted, muttering something under his breath in Russian. "Durak" (Idiot).

Ignoring the insult (Since he didn't understand shit), [Your Name] glanced sideways at him, curiosity piqued. "Speaking of surviving, what's a Russian like you doing in Korea anyway? Business trip or something?"

Zhenya pushed himself up into a cat stretch, sighing. "Just some business, yeah. Haven't been here long since I left the United States. Spent two years there."

[Your Name] froze mid-stretch, and Zhenya stopped, too.

There was a moment of silence, the kind of heavy pause where two people are definitely about to do something incredibly stupid.

Then, in perfect sync, they both burst out with, "AMERICA, RAHHH!! 🦅🦅🇺🇸🇺🇸🇺🇸‼️‼️"

Zhenya threw his arms up like he was saluting a bald eagle, and [Your Name] mimed waving a flag, both of them standing there like two complete maniacs.

They even added some overly dramatic chest-pounding, because why not?

Once their patriotic fervor calmed down, they resumed their stretches like nothing had happened.

"So," Zhenya said, his voice casual again as he twisted to the side, cracking his back in a way that made [Your Name] wince. "What's a guy like you doing here? You don't exactly scream 'local.'"

[Your Name] straightened up, brushing imaginary dust off his shoulder. "Oh, you know, just chasing the love of my life."

Zhenya, mid-leg stretch, snorted so hard he almost toppled over. "Chasing? You poor bastard. Good luck with that."

"Luck's not a problem when you've got this level of beauty," [Your Name] replied with a smirk, striking a dramatic pose like he was about to run after his "true love" any second now.

Zhenya muttered something else under his breath, "Blin, eto ne mozhet byt' nastoyashchim" (Damn, this can't be real).

"What was that?" [Your Name] asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Zhenya said with a grin, moving into another stretch.

After a few more stretches, [Your Name] decided it was time to show off a little.

Dropping to the ground, he started doing push-ups.

Zhenya, sensing an opportunity, casually sat himself on top of [Your Name]'s back, smirking as he crossed his arms.

"You know, if you're going to show off, you might as well do it right," Zhenya commented, his voice sounding far too relaxed for someone using a person as a chair.