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

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Oops. There might be a large Soviet joining Raikov on the couch, slowly going about it but his ass was very much pointing towards taking a seat near him.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Ivan shot him a look out of the corner of his eye and scooted to the far end of the couch. Away from Volgin.

This macaroni was delicious.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Alright, but that couch could not be too long, right?

Volgin watched Raikov eat for a few moments.

Then: A scoot.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Ivan tensed for a moment.

Then continued, eating faster this time.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

A headtilt.

Scoot.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Another tense.

Ivan can't eat any faster.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Scoot.

Volgin was looking down at Raikov. Their thighs were touching.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Ivan was looking down at his food.

"It's not that bad, is it?"

He prodded his stomach with dejection.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Grunt. Volgin followed the thin, white finger to Raikov's belly. He gave it a considering look.

"It could use a little work."

A pause.

"Like mine."

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

He swallowed, and could feel a tinge of schadenfreude at Volgin's admission.

"I don't understand, I've been working out..."

[colonelcrotchgrab]

"Your legs, likely. Not enough on your stomach."

As Volgin chanced death and destruction by lifting a hand towards the pot of macaroni. It smelled pretty good, even if he was ... a competent cook in the interests of appeasing the palette of the other Raikov he knew.

(The chef was accused of treason and was appropriately taken care of. Vanya was not pleased with this. Lover's devotion sometimes had Volgin broaden his horizons into a lot of stupid things.)

Fighting with dogs, tables, and Majors took a lot out of a man of his age.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

"More sit-ups...," he sighed in defeat.

Ivan, in no mood to fight or make sudden movements, just lifted the bowl out of Volgin's initial reach.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

"Mmmhmm," the giant rolled.

Not a completely successful attempt: Volgin still had a fairly good reach, enough to pilfer the spoon and what was clinging on to it. He helped himself to that, polishing the utensil with a few good licks.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Ivan looked completely affronted (and shocked) that Volgin would even dare. He leaned over to snatch his spoon back, and then began shoveling macaroni into his mouth.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Volgin damn well dared.

"Are you going to eat all that cold?" he pointed out. "It might taste a little better warm."

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Ivan had already made it through a good portion of the bowl before he stopped to acknowledge Volgin.

A swallow.

"It tastes pretty good to me."

He licked his lips. You can't have any, Yevgeny.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Until Yevgeny made for a harsh yank of the bowl.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

It caught Ivan so off guard Volgin actually got the bowl.

Until Ivan grabbed the rim and tugged.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

"I'm going to make this better," Volgin said in-a-manner-of-factly way. His strength held up well against the other man, and Volgin had to wonder how well when he was slowly rising to his feet and holding it up to his chest.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

"Let go of my food, Yevgeny!" Ivan scrunched his brow and wore a stern look.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

Volgin furrowed his brow in return and experimentally lifted the bowl above his head, likely touching the ceiling and more likely hovering the face of an irritated Raikov close to his own.

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Ivan stretched his arms up to keep hold of the bowl--being forced to rise to his knees in the process.

He glared at Volgin's face, but it was so close to his own it made him go a bit cross eyed, causing him to repeatedly blink or refocus.

"Yevgeny Borisovitch Volgin."

[colonelcrotchgrab]

The large, hawkish nose did not budge. Neither was the bowl now kissing the ceiling if by the aid of the large outstretched arms overhead and now standing posture.

"Yes?" was his calm reply. "That is my full name. I have not forgotten it."

[volginswaifu.livejournal.com]

Ivan still clung to the bowl despite being suspended, his feet hanging uselessly and awkwardly below him.

"Nngh--let go Yevgeny!" He swung his leg, trying to hit Volgin in the crotch.

Of course it was difficult to build up enough momentum for it to actually hurt; he more thudded uselessly against Volgin more than anything.

[colonelcrotchgrab]

"I am trying to help you," Volgin nonchalantly drifted, the leg patting his belly and groin with a nearly harmless pomf. He remained firm, an expected constant Ivan would have been very intimately familiar with by now.