majorbonerkiller | NonCanon: Moving

[There was a low grunt from that couch.

Although normally Volgin was out and about, today, he was sprawled across the battered piece of furniture, his thick limbs tucked against his body. If Raikov walked close enough, he might have sensed a lingering miasma from the unsteady electricity around the man; he seemed to glow in his illness.

His single eye was dull, lacking the spark and power that normally characterized the old Soviet monster. He had winced from the voice despite his dulled senses, replying rather dryly:]

... You picked a bad day for it.

[The young Soviet blinked, walking over to the touch and resting a hand on the arm rest.]

Oh come on, walk it off! I'm all motivated~

[Volgin curled his lip, bristling against the rubber mat over the rank material of the couch as he plumbed at it for warmth.]

This isn't the case.

Get me a damn blanket.

[Although that had a risk of igniting.]

Stop being such a baby. Once we're done moving you can sleep!

[He grabbed Volgin's arm, attempting to tug him off the couch.]

[It was a strain to keep his electricity in check, as his body's strength was completely sapped, but Raikov narrowly avoided becoming a crisp. Volgin's large arm and its proud bulk were dead weight against the bare bones he felt like.

The large arm, for the most part, was limp, if Raikov was able to make off with it. He would not be taking the rest of the older man no matter how much he tried, and Volgin was terribly thankful for that.]

You forget who takes care of you... when you're unwell.

You're not sick. You just overslept.

[Ivan continued to ignore the obvious, instead concentrating on what he wanted to get done.

He dropped Volgin's arm.]

Just get up and you'll feel fine!

[Volgin groaned. Not many things could keep the man down, but today, whatever was festering inside of him irritatingly had the upper hand. Still, confident in his fortitude, he tried to pull his weary self up.

He puffed a long breath, readying himself with a small countdown, before slowly rolling his weakened body into a sit.

His head swam. He lingered there, heavy on his rear. His eye focused on the silver-haired Soviet nagging so relentlessly at him. Almost, almost, he decided not to care about anything else and head right back down into his little comfortable fetal curl.]

We could stay one more day.

[A mutter:]

If I were younger...

[Ivan watches him, arms crossed and toe-tapping impatiently. When he's finally sitting, he takes a more action-orientated stance.]

You're the one who wants a bed, right? Come on!

[In all honesty, he really is being more relentless to try and motivate.]

[Volgin's tone drifted:]

That would be nice.

[He just wanted to leave the electricity on, which took no effort whatsoever on his part, and not care.]

Then get up~ [He smiles, voice flirtatious.]

It's becoming a point of debate...

[Still, Volgin tried, although the attempt was painfully laborious: his whole body felt like dead weight, nevermind the pain infesting his joints and the twisting cauldron of his gut and...

Hn, somehow, he was on his feet again.]

Ivan, this isn't a great idea.

[He patted Volgin on the rear and squeezed playfully.]

Listen, we'll check out the new apartment and only move what's not already there, okay~?

[Most apartments usually had the essential appliances and a bed, at the very least.]

[A low grunt. Volgin would have liked to have appreciated that squeeze, but he felt his stomach turn instead; he really did not want to be touched at all, even by Ivan's pale beautiful hand. In his illness, his skin had taken on something of a very uncharacteristic tenderness.]

... I'll move to the new bed.

[That would make this whole effort worth it.]

Sure, whatever. But if there's only one bed you better move mine over there.

[He furrowed a brow at Volgin's lack of response to his touch, but continued on.]

Come on, let's go find a new room.

The bed better fit me.

[And if not, Volgin was going to be tightly curled up into it anyway, so preemptively, he snatched his rubber mats from the couch and pulled them along, fantasizing about finally having a comfortable bed of his own.]

Yeah, yeah. That's why we're looking together.

[Ivan whistled for Galina, and she sprinted after the two as they left the apartment.]

[Naturally, the best floor to start looking on was the one they were already at, and so Ivan walked straight ahead and opened the door across from them.]

[Suspiciously empty...]

[Volgin lingered behind, struggling to keep himself straight as they walked. The floor seemed to sway, so far away. He almost bashed his head against the doorframe.

He clutched his head. No, let's try his stomach. Clutch something. Anything. It all was hurting.

Let's brush past Ivan with all his cumbersome grace and go find a bed. Search over.]

[Ivan shut the door and headed to the next one. He glanced back at Volgin with slight concern, but pushed the thought down for the greater good of their new apartment.

It seemed there were a lot of empty, useless rooms in this hall. None so far were big enough.]

You can help look in the rooms across the hall while I get this side, you know.

[Which might have been even more detracting from the search when Volgin lumbered into that first empty room he looked at, and, upon finding the bedroom, was positioning his rubber matting on it.]

Hey! [Ivan ran in after him, snatching the mat away.]

What do you think you're doing?! This room is even smaller than the one we have now!

[Volgin glared daggers, unable to really gather up the speed and strength to snap his taken mat back, but he tried anyway. Raikov might have found himself in the rare position where he stood a chance at overpowering the behemoth of a man.]

I found a bed, and I am sleeping in it.

[Ivan easily kept the mat out of reach, returning the look of daggers.]

You can sleep after we find a proper apartment, now come on. I'm getting impatient here.

You can work on your patience, then, for once.

[Still with another rubber mat and an unstable charge, he tried his best to position the other mat and get his bulk on there as fast as possible.]

[Ivan howled in frustration, swiping the other mat away just like the last.]

I said come on!

[Volgin growled right back, reaching for the other mat. He could risk sliding into the covers as he was, the desperation for relief beginning to painfully jar against the care he normally took in not setting things on fire.]

Do I need to shock some sense into you...?

[A bluff; he was not sure if he could thread the control to give him proper warning without badly hurting him.]

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