FISSIONMAILED: It's not my birthday, asshole

[volginswaifu]

[Ivan had taken today to sleep in. Curled up in his and Volgin's massive bed, barely noticeable under the lumps of sheets if not for that silvery-blonde head peeking out as a dead give away.]

[Nestled against his chest lay Galina, peacefully snoozing much like her master.]

[All-in-all...it was a completely average, uneventful day.]

Comments

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[And Volgin wasn't there. He could have easily stirred Raikov awake, but today was a special day, or would have been. He had been deliberating in the kitchen, balancing on his good foot, wondering if he should do it. He knew Raikov was not the one for small sentimental gestures, but Volgin chanced it anyway.

He was a gambling man. With a terrible record.

For now, he decided on his plan of attack: He eschewed the rest of the frills that came with the formalities of celebration, and went to work on making his gift: food.]

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

[Ivan rolled over in bed, pulling the blankets under Galina and forcing the husky to wake up, move, and lie back down next to him.]

[The sound of things going on in the kitchen had him throw a pillow over his head.]

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[That was fine; it meant Volgin could continue his work undisturbed. Their elaborate new "base of operations" had also come with a more elaborate kitchen. Of course, likely, anyone else would have hired help with the place, but he had some ability on his own.

And they had everything thought of. It made Volgin's job easier. There was everything he formerly needed but everything he had previously found had been so greatly improved upon. And worked with his larger hands!

Really, it was almost coming off as too perfect.

Volgin had kept his words low since they had moved in, and this had been all the more incentive to speak in code; he would be doing a more thorough check for bugs when his leg was better, but his initial searches had turned up nothing. Then again, he was working off a knowledge of the latest in espionage gadgets... from the 1960s.

Likely, he was going to have to hire someone else to look.

He gave his current project a scowl as it sat in its bowl.]

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

[Eventually Ivan became restless, a familiar pressure in his pelvis. He had to pee.]

[The younger Soviet was eventually forced out of bed, and trudged his way to the bathroom. Not even bothering to close the door, Volgin could surely hear a steady stream hit the toilet water below.]

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Oh, Volgin could hear it.

He might have been looking in the direction of the bathroom with a raised brow. It did not contrast well with him doing that cooking thing either.]

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[Ivan tucked himself back as he walked back to the bed. Galina greeted him with a tail wagging in the air, and he laid down next to her like before.]

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Not even a greeting?

Volgin puffed as he resumed his work, destined to be undisturbed it seemed. Raikov always had been something of a zombie when he slept.]

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

[And for the next hour, unless disturbed again, Ivan would stay comfortably in bed.]

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[And in the next hour, Volgin was waiting on things in the oven and was limping over to the formerly revolving bed, feeling well enough to eschew the crutches and inconvenience for a little pain. As stupid an idea as the whole bed concept was, he was glad it was not currently rotating now, and he crawled up on it. Like any other piece of furniture subjected to his mass, it creaked and groaned and sank.

Once that was done, he reached over to nudge Raikov, if his slumber survived the disturbance.]

Vanya.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Hnn... [He waved an arm at Volgin, face buried in a pillow. His voice was muffled.]

What is it?

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Volgin partially smiled, regardless, as he pulled in closer.]

Ivan, do you remember what day today is?

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[Who are you, Rose?]

The 22nd...4th? Something like that. [He shifted a bit, further into the sheets.]

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[This suit itches.

Volgin grunted, pressing back into the attack, nudging Raikov even harder.]

You've forgotten your own birthday?

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

[Suit? What suit?]

[He turns his head, cracking an eye open at the other man.]

No? Why would I?

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Then he unzipped the suit, a zipper on his chest, and flipped off his head, Rosemary tossing her hair once that was freed, and leered in:

"You can't escape me now, Jack. You can't escape, ever."

Oh. Oops. I meant-]

Isn't today your birthday?

[Volgin's expression was now turning into something confused himself.]

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

[And then Ivan woke up from a horrible, horrible nightmare.]

Uh...no? [Ivan sits up a bit, suspicious and irritated.]

Why would you think it is?

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Volgin said nothing for a time. When he finally did speak, his voice was uncharacteristically smaller than his usual vocal purr that somehow could fill a room when he wanted it to.]

I thought it was.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

[Ivan cants his head, brows creased and incredulous. Volgin's tone made the entire thing even more peculiar.]

...Why?

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Volgin puffed. Slowly he began to creep off the bed, a knot forming in his stomach. It was a foreign, funny feeling, something he was not sure why it was forming or he could really explain. He just knew that he was not liking it.]

It would have been.

I need to go check the oven.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

"Would have"? What are you talking about?

[Dogging him a bit, Ivan crawled his way in front of Volgin before had a chance to try and leave the bed.]

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[It was not too hard to outpace the large, still injured Russian either, who paused not unlike a deer confronting a truck.]

I was mistaken, that's all.

[He began to push past him.]

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Ah--... [Volgin seemed...unhappy, to say the least, and Ivan sat around a moment in thought before coming up with a solution. A gaudy one, as usual.]

[He smirked, taking a coy little post for the other Russian. Shoulders tilted, head turned slightly away.]

If you wanted to pamper me, you could have just asked~

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Indeed Volgin was. Or at least terribly embarrassed at the large can of worms he mistakenly discovered while stretching out what he could of the limited capacity of his best intentions. The honest kind. Those that did not involve heating up the Cold War or sending a soldier back to his family as a bag of red paste.

Still, this had Volgin tilting his head.]

Hn. Think of it that way, then.

The oven still needs to be checked.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Ohh~ Somethin' to eat, huh? You didn't happen to make Varenyky, did you?

[Ivan scooted to the edge of the bed and slide down to the floor, turning to face the much larger Russian.]

[He'd have to get it out of Yevgeny why he thought his birthday was today, instead of several months from now. But hey, pampering was pampering, and Ivan had no intention to let such valiant efforts to please him go to waste.

And just to be honest with himself...seeing the man like a deer in headlights did little for his ego. It was unsettling. Maybe over something more serious he could maliciously enjoy it, but not over this.]

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Volgin was going to be hard-pressed to talk about the Raikov he had initially met at Groznyj Grad and now was residing far away at a school for monster-children. There were few things he was reluctant to converse about, and that was one of them.

He already had a feeling he would never see the former again.

A shame this Raikov would have seen his avoidance as cowardice, and not the conventional wisdom of not lighting up next to a gas leak. He could already smell the gas.

... And the varenyky!]

Aren't you a good guesser?

[Sure his tone was affectionate, but he still was a little harsher in the nudging business, already prepared for the red spikes of pain waiting for him when he made his mad dash to the kitchen on his bad foot.]

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I thought I smelled something familiar... [Somewhat pleased with himself, Ivan gave a look to the kitchen, then back to Volgin.]

Smells like it's going to burn~ [Just a slight tease. Hmm...part of him wanted to sit back and make Volgin run to save the food he made for him, and the other part took pity on what it felt like to have a broken limb and be forced to use it.

Very, very slight pity. If anything, he only headed to the kitchen to turn off the stove out of obligation and a...slight sense of compassion. Or was it gratitude? Mush. It was all mush.]

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Since Raikov had said nothing, Volgin had already sprung off the bed to take care of the oven. What was surprising was that his significant other had joined him, and beaten him to turning it off.

However, Volgin still needed to look at it, which soon enough he joined Raikov and brushed him aside to better crack it open and...

... it was faring okay. It looked ready to be taken out, which he reached over for an oven mitt and limped over with the tray to set it aside. The ends looked a little brown, but other than that, passable.

Most of his food had been really just "passable" these days. Something seemed off, like something was missing. Volgin glanced over at Raikov again, cocking a brow.]

[volginswiafu.livejournal.com]

[Ivan did have to wonder why Volgin had insisted dashing after him even though he was going to save him the trouble of doing just that...]

[Too distracted by the smell of food fresh out of the oven, Ivan was busy hovering above the tray and letting his mouth water--Volgin's look to him went unnoticed.]

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Unlike some other residents of the Nexus, Volgin was not a psychic. He was letting Raikov savor the sight and smell of the dessert varenyky while he considered the former birthday pie. It was now cool, and luckily, for all of the mercies there were in the world, Volgin was spared further embarrassment with not having carved a birthday wish on its crust. It was the first time in all his fifty-something years of existing on the living, breathing plane that he actually wanted to articulate an honest wish of good will towards another human being for the sake of sentimental business; he better make it count.

So, he took a knife and delicately began etching something anyway, the Cyrillic letters rough and crude:

"For better days, long as they are now, but still as sweet as before."

Finishing, barely fitting it all in, the giant surveyed his writing. Good enough.]

[volginswiafu.livejournal.com]

[Savouring the sight and smell? Oh no, Ivan very soon was eating them. Plucking them up by the ends and tossing them into his hungry mouth.]

Mmm, delicious~!

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[Suppose that was the bare minimum of what Volgin could ask of Raikov then. Forcing a smile and having no need to ask any further opinion of him, he left the younger man to enjoy the fruits of his labors, gathering his crutches and then retiring to the bedroom to resume his spot on the bed. It had been a long morning of misplaced intentions. Might as well spend the afternoon unconscious like a normal retiree with his first-world petty problems.

Next week he should be well enough for the splint to come off. There was always that.]

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Hm? [He turned around, cheeks stuffed with food not unlike a hamster or squirrel's.]

Where're you going? [He takes a moment to actually chew and swallow before shoveling more varenyky into his mouth.]

[colonelcrotchgrab]

[The giant's reply was frank:]

Get off my foot.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

But what about the food?

[Not that he minded eating it all himself. Ivan take a look at the pie, about to cut into it when he noticed the lettering.] Hm...?

Did you write this?