☭ один [1] -- TEXT, ACTION

[musthatefrogs]

* * * * * * Attn Students, Co-Workers, Interested Parties: * * * * * *

I am back teaching at your facility. My area of expertise, if you so remember me, will be "Culinary Arts". It carries an emphasis in Russian cooking around the late 19th, early 20th century. If you are not willing to accept the knowledge of my people so generously offered, then

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action;

[majorcrotchgrab]

[After coming home from grocery shopping, Raikov finally returned to his apartment. At first, he hadn't noticed the door was wide open but he knew something was definitely wrong when he saw that his living room had been TRASHED.]

Wha...

[Smashed table, turned over couch... String Shot everywhere. This was almost as bad as when Volgin had gotten into that fight with Char and Alex. ... Wait a minute. The door was open, the place was trashed, and Katya was no where to be seen.]

... KATYA! KATYA, WHERE ARE YOU?

[He searches through the wreck, looking for his ever-so-tiny Pokemon, clueless as to who else made this mess.]

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[musthatefrogs]

[Very likely, it was going to be the last thing Raikov suspected, as the offender roused from his nap, still shuddering off the last spasms of the damn bug's paralysis.

Then, the words registered. "Katya" was most definitely a name. A female one? Or a pet name for another lover?

Volgin internally frowned at this potential. The bed creaked and groaned, possibly enough for Raikov's ears to catch and perhaps find the older man in mid-rise.]

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[majorcrotchgrab]

[It took a bit for Raikov to hear the bed whining at the large man in it but when he did, he slipped his makarov out from his pocket and cautiously snuck towards the bedroom. Someone was in his bed...

Someone was in his apartment. And his Pokemon was missing. This was not good. Was it that bastard Char again? It better not be or he'll kill that beast once and for all...]

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[musthatefrogs]

[And Volgin was up, attuned to Raikov's presence in his apartment. The Soviet had paused beyond that, realizing he gave away his position in his very noisy movements. Great.

He had other people do wetworks involving espionage for him for a reason.

So, he cleared his throat, the tone he used around the silver-haired Soviet as smooth and de-barbed as it usually was:]

Ivan. /It's me./

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[majorcrotchgrab]

WHAT THE HELL ARE Y-

[Raikov pointed his gun at the larger man for a moment. Upon realizing who it was, or who he thought it might be, his jaw dropped and he slowly lowered his gun. Could it be...? Was he really back...?]

... /Wait.../ Yev... geny...?

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[musthatefrogs]

[Volgin bristled and braced himself for action, his thick body could shrug off a few Makarov shots, he knew that much, but he eased as Raikov did.

... And nodded, standing there partially covered in pokemon-snot in a dirty coat. The bedraggled shadow of the once proud terror of Groznyj Grad, the world at his fingers and power in all spheres, now wedging his impractically-sized self into the shelter of a subordinate's assigned room.

The unstoppable Yevgeny Borisovich Volgin, standing there in reanimated flesh.]

/Seven-foot electrical soldiers are a bit hard to come by, or have the times changed?/

[He tilted his head for emphasis.]

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[majorcrotchgrab]

[He couldn't believe his eyes. Raikov kept the gun out but approached Volgin until they were directly in front of each other. He slowly reached out, almost afraid that if he were to touch him, the man before him would vanish.]

/Are you... back? I'm not dreaming, am I?/

[The smaller Russian finally worked up the courage to place his hand against Volgin's chest, confirming that he was really there]

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[musthatefrogs]

[Volgin still was there. As a matter of fact, if Raikov listened closely, there was that low, powerful heartbeat, the constant thrum of his condition humming in his torso, the almost tangible sensation of the perpetual energy he had been engineered to put out, all of it restrained within his thick, trenched skin.]

/Are you? I could certainly check for you./

[He leaned in, rumbling. He did not fear the gun, as the large black glove of his own hand covered the smaller one, if it still lingered on his chest.]

/Let's see. What can I do to see if you're awake...?/

[He smiled with authentic warmth, even if the whorls that made up half his cheek twisted the attempt into a sinister rictus.]

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[majorcrotchgrab]

Yevgeny...

[Raikov hated crying. Crocodile tears was one thing but sincere tears? It made him feel weak. But the fact that his once dead lover was back again brought tears to his eyes. He dropped the gun and threw himself against Volgin, clinging to him desperately.

He had lost Volgin twice before. He didn't want to lose him again. It was far too painful. He fought back his tears as best he could but they continued to roll down his pale cheeks]

Zhenya... Oh, Zhenya...

[Seemed he had forgotten about a certain yellow fuzz for the time being...]

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[musthatefrogs]

[(That was okay. Volgin would argue he was more important than any ball of web-pissing fuzz in any instance.)]

Vanya...

[A gloved finger gently ran through the mess of soft hair, pushing aside those long strands. He hated to see him cry, he hated to hear him cry, and certainly there would be tears fighting to soak through the worn sweater to his insulation. He wouldn't feel them.

Indeed, Raikov found this former stranger in the bedroom solid, warm, and alive.

And Volgin was still smiling, if fighting down empathetic tears himself.]

/Breathe deep./

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[majorcrotchgrab]

[Raikov whimpered into Volgin's chest as he tried to calm himself down. This felt too good to be true.]

/You came back.../

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[musthatefrogs]

/I said I would come back for you, didn't I?/

[He rolled off another soft rumble of his breath.]

/Now, smell me./

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[majorcrotchgrab]

[But how does one come back from Hell, Raikov wondered. Best to not worry about that for now.

The smaller male happily obliged to the order, breathing in Volgin's familiar scent.]

/The same as always.../

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[musthatefrogs]

[Another rumble, this one a chuckle.]

/Notice anything different?/

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[majorcrotchgrab]

...

[He sniffed again.]

A bit dirty but...

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[majorcrotchgrab]

[The sentimental (or scentimental?) moment was cut short by a loud shriek from the bathroom. Although he had never heard Katya make that particular noise before, Raikov knew it had to be her.]

... Katya!

[He pushed away from Volgin as he tried to find where the noise was coming from]

Katya, where are you?!

[... If Volgin was back and Katya was somewhere in that mess, that had to mean...]