FISSIONMAILED: Apartment complex

[majorbonerkiller]

Well Ivan certainly didn't remember leaving the door to his apartment wide open, just beckoning squatters to come shit on his carpet--or even worse, eat his food.

Not that they weren't all squatters here anyway. Ivan crouched down near the door frame, pulling out his tranquilizer gun. He peered over the threshold, and took a chance, hoping his dog was still here--and still alive.

"Galina! Here girl!"

When he heard the familiar patter and panting he sighed in relief, ruffling her ears when she was close enough, "Good girl." Curse himself for smiling at a time like this.

Slightly more confident now with his canine comrade, Ivan entered the dark apartment, keeping his footsteps quiet and his tranquilizer at the ready.

And he almost immediately tripped over his own dirty laundry, screaming in the process of mid-falling terror. Luckily his amazing acrobatic skills (catching himself on the dresser) came to the rescue.

Moving forward towards the center of the room Ivan could hear--breathing. He baited his breath, trying to hold back any instincts to just start shooting up the place. He was fueled by a sort of cocktail of terror and anger--how dare somebody come waltzing into his apartment thinking they own the goddamn place?!

He padded closer, towards the sounds of life--they must be on the couch, since he just knocked his knee on the coffee table and had to hiss in silent agony a moment before going on.

Finally steadying himself he located the perpetrator's head after several seconds (a whole minute of squinting) and pressed the muzzle of his gun against it, "Get up!"

Comments

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Ivan hated when he couldn't get his way. However, he felt a swell of accomplishment knowing he served his Colonel well.

He hung his head, looking down at his hands clasped together in front of him. His voice was near a whisper.

"I...," it hurt, "I guess so," it really hurt.

One hand reached out to take old of Volgin's, to try and draw him back into the room.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

"You don't know."

Raikov had taken the ungloved hand. It made motions to close, but did not quite.

"I should have known. I would have never told you.

"You can't stop it."

I tried.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

"I knew...," he mumbled, standing there. Unable to move.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Volgin's hand closed tightly around Raikov's, almost painfully so; the other hand was making a fist.

"Why did you make me tell you."

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Ivan winced from Volgin's forceful grip, "I...didn't want to believe it."

[colonelcrotchgrab]

A fling of his powerful arm, with intent to send Ivan to the floor.

An outburst: "Don't make me cry again!"

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Surprise caught him more than anything, and Ivan went stumbling back, just barely managing to catch himself on the armrest of the couch.

He looked up at Volgin, remorseful. Swallowing his pride--both literally and figuratively--he said, "I'm sorry."

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Volgin held his arm for some time before slowly lowering it, realizing what he had done, something usually only reserved for Raikov when the giant was coming to his senses after losing his temper.

Death and Hell did nothing to dull his temper.

The angered expression softened into something dull, a mutual remorsefulness. His shoulders, his aggressive posture relaxed.

"You're forgiven, Ivan."

Noting his bare hand, he stepped away from the doorway to search for his glove.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

He sat down on the couch with a soft sound, hands resting in his lap, eyes steady on Volgin before drifting back down.

He kept his words to himself.

Doubts, concerns--a lifetime of regret. What could have been done and what didn't happen. A future of riches and romance, power and tyrannical dictatorship burned to pieces.

Almost everything he ever wanted and aspired for crumbled to pieces before him.

Ivan let his head rest in the soft palm of his hands as he mulled that it wasn't the power or greed--or the dread of what he knew his future would hold--no; there was really only one thing in his whole shattered utopia that he couldn't imagine losing:

And that was Volgin.

And he would lose him too.

It suddenly felt very cold and empty in his apartment. Like a weighted loneliness. Even with Galina eagerly licking at his foot, it was like she wasn't even there.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Amazingly, the damn dog did not go for his discarded glove on the floor during their episode. Volgin scooped it up, looking it over, before sliding it back on and tucking the end beneath his sleeve. A flex of his hand with the satisfying heavy strain of rubber, he turned towards Ivan. That damn dog's pink tongue was slobbering against his foot.

The ex-Colonel gave the dog a look.

Raikov could hear approaching footsteps. Soon, Volgin was standing over him, not even a foot away. A large hand then rested on his shoulder, slowing trailing towards his hair in a gentle caress.

"Vanya." His voice had recovered its strength, once again a low, confident sound, something perceptively unshakable again. "I will return.

"They killed me, but half of a century is only a minor setback."

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

"Half a century?" Ivan shook his head. "Back home...," he choked, "I can't wait that long."

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Volgin's voice prickled: "Are you going back?"

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Ivan didn't dare look at him yet.

"I don't know. I--," fear and confusion, "I don't know how I got here in the first place!"

[colonelcrotchgrab]

(Internally, Volgin wanted to know if he could go back himself, correct himself. Kill that worthless American dog before he could...!)

"You don't know."

The hand curled, slowly stroking Raikov's hair with the backs of his fingers.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

"But if I do..."

The sentence hung.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

"Don't think about it."

It was the most Volgin could offer as advice for the both of them.

His hand slid down to Raikov's shoulder to pull the smaller man towards him, against him. Hold.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

"Okay...," it wasn't a guarantee, but a promise to try.

He couldn't always control the thoughts that permeated their way into his conscious.

"I never got that blowjob," he said in the same tone.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Maybe Raikov's discipline paled in comparison to the (for the most part) unyielding rigidity and order of Volgin's, but the elder of the two men could not stand to dwell on his losses; they had twisted his gut enough already. It only made him older.

"You're hinting at something." A lighter tone.

Raikov might have found his head being repositioned and adjusted somewhere crotch-wards.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

He couldn't help but smile, still melancholy but fading.

"I meant mine. You owe me one, remember?"

[colonelcrotchgrab]

"When did I owe you?"

Volgin tilted his loins forward. Chalk it up to his aging memory. Maybe.

Possibly.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

"When you fell asleep in my lap earlier."

Ivan dutifully ignored Volgin's crotch like the plague.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

"I was sleeping, Vanya."

(No, he wasn't.)

Volgin's loins remained persistent.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

"A promise a promise, Zhenya," he said firmly.

Ignoring was Ivan's specialty.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

"Even one made unaware?"

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

"What about all the promises I made in my sleep that you forced me to keep?"