Try To Call You Every Day (I'm Rehearsing What To Say) \\ON HIATUS\\

chp 3

So naturally, Nikolai was freaking out. He's sure its showing all over his face.

Shit, what do I do? He's right there. Stay calm, Nikolai. Just breathe. He does as instructed.

Belatedly, he sees the kid next to him. Fuck, is he married? He, of course, jumps to conclusions. Worst case scenarios. Thats what he does. Nikolai (once again, belatedly) notices he's not wearing a ring. Maybe he's divorced. Welp. He'll take what he can get.

~Time to turn on the charm~  But before he can open his mouth, Crush-kun is speaking. (Goddammit, stop calling him that!)

"Uh, hi. I could use some help?" It comes out as a question.

Before he knows what he's doing, Nikolai says, "Same."

He looks confused. "W-what?"

Oh, I said that out loud, didn't I? Fuuuuccckk meeeee.

Nikolai laughed nervously. "Nothing. I'm Nikolai Gogol. Weird that we've been working across from each other for so long and we don't know each other's names." Thank God I didn't mess that up.

The kid behind him gave him a look. He nodded slightly and turned to Nikolai. "Fyodor Dostoevsky," he said quietly, never meeting his eyes. He absentmindedly realized they're both Russian. Huh.

"Pleasure to meet you, Dos-kun! What did you need today?"

"I, um. . . makeup?"

He most have noticed Nikolai's expression because he quickly added on, "Not for me! My. . . cousin."

Nikolai laughed. "It's fine either way, Dos-kun! I wear it too, but you don't strike me as the type to." That was true. Fyodor was obviously not the type to wear makeup.

"What are they like?" Nikolai stood up from behind the counter.

"Um. . . quiet. A bit shy." Fyodor answered, absentmindedly playing with his hair. 

Cute, Nikolai thought while saying aloud, "Maybe some muted colors. Nothing too saturated."

He moved across the shop and sorted through some eyeshadow palettes, mascara, and the other essentials. While he did this, he decided to try and make small talk.

"So your cousin. . . they sound a lot like you," Nikolai grinned up at Fyodor.

Fyodor responded. "I suppose you could say that."

Nikolai's smirk grew. "Perhaps I could test these on you then, eh, Dos-kun?"

Fyodor visibly paled. "Please tell me you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting."

"It's exactly what you think it is, Dos-kun."

Fyodor didn't really know what he was thinking when he realized he has a crush on this guy.

¤¤¤

Atsushi woke up to his phone ringing. He really didn't want to answer it. He looked at the caller ID. It was Chuuya. He supposed he has to answer.

He sighed, already expecting another Dazai rant. He was pleasantly surprised to find out he forgot it was his own birthday.

"Happy birthday, Atsu!" Chuuya yelled from the other end of the line.

"Holy shit, I forgot." Atsushi mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He sat up and checked the time. It was around eight thirty, so he got out of bed and tried to be productive. Chuuya was still on the phone.

"How do you forget your own birthday? That's really sad." He could practically smell the disappointment from his own apartment.

"Look, when you have college—" Atsushi started.

"I fucking know I went for years." Chuuya interrupted. "Anyways, I'm throwing you a party and you have to come."

"Wha— Chuu, what the actual fuck?" He all but yelled, eyes widening.

Chuuya cackled on the other line. "I did what I felt was right, kid! It's at the karaoke place by that one bookstore."

"Wow, so specific."

"Bring friends!"

Atsushj rolled his eyes. "You're my friend."

He could hear him shrug. "Bring another one. Karaoke's no fun with two people." He hung up. Atsushi was still in shock.

¤¤

The only reason Chuuya did it is because Atsushi has been drowning in college essays and needed some fun. He also needs a life. Very desperately.

Okay, fine. It was Dazai's idea.

And in the end, it didn't matter if it was his enemy's idea if it meant Atsushi could take a break.

Extremely sappy, but (hopefully) extremely effective.

Dazai was standing over him like a vulture the entire phone call. Honestly, does this guy even work? Do his employers actually pay him to sit around in the wrong rink and talk to Chuuya all day? He hoped not. Chuuya dreamed of the day Dazai got fired.

Dazai spoke. "Judging from his yelling, he doesn't know what to think?" He was smiling.

Chuuya turned to rearrange ice skates behind the counter. He grabbed a pair and sat down on a bench. "I guess you could say that. Atsushi never knows what to think." He was grinning, but his face turned serious as he spoke to him. He stopped tying his laces and looked up at Dazai. "Um, I'm not good at stuff like that, so, thanks I guess." He mumbled. He felt heat rise on his neck.

Dazai stared at him. When this drew on too long, Chuuya said, "Say something, at least!"

Dazai laughed, "Aww, chibi really isn't good at this stuff!"

Chuuya huffed. "I try to compliment you and this is how you respond?" He stood up and walked to the rink. He stepped onto the ice  where he knew Dazai wouldn't follow him unless he really wanted to annoy Chuuya.

Today Dazai chose to stay on the carpeted floor, leaning against the edge.

Chuuya pulled out his earbuds from his pocket. He shuffled a random playlist and skated. Dazai was still there.

And, maybe, if he hadn't put the volume as high as it could go, he would have heard Dazai say, "God, chibi. You're so stupid."