A Painted Dream | Fyolai

by Vicctor

Summary:

MY FIRST LENGUAGE ISNT ENGLISH IM SORRY THIS IS GONNA SUCK ASS 😕
Fixed ! (I think)

Notes:

So basically I randomnly got this idea out of a dream I had and I said mhhhmmm HMMM why not

Chapter 1: The dream

I'm a painter—or at least, that's what I call myself.
My name is Mykola Hohol, but people know me best as Nikolai Gogol.
The clown.

I worked in a circus for years, but I had a love for painting.
I could never express my feelings with words, but it was different when I was painting.
I could feel my own heart in every line I painted.
I could see everything—as if it were my own world.

My paintings were all over the circus as decorations.
My boss liked them and thought they looked nice around the place.
I drew doves flying, doves in cages, sad clowns, happy clowns, balloons—
things I loved the most.

My paintings started to gain a little popularity.
That overwhelmed me.
It filled me with those annoying bad feelings and insecurities about my art.

“What if people don’t like it?”

Without even noticing, I was already in a cage.
A cage full of feelings I couldn’t escape.

My love for painting had become my worst nightmare.
I used to love it, but now I couldn’t feel my heart beat faster when I drew.
I couldn’t feel anything.

It was an emptiness I couldn’t explain.
Every day was the same.
A routine I hated with all my being.

Was this some kind of self-punishment?
I had no idea.

But one night, something changed.
I had a dream—
a dream that woke up that passion I had hidden in my heart.

I saw a man.
A man I’ll never forget.
He saw through me.
He saw my soul, even if it was just a dream.

I could feel it.
I could feel his hands wrapping around me,
touching my body with such care.

He had beautiful purple eyes that brought me to my knees.
He held me, and I felt full—
full of a feeling I had never felt before.

He was like an angel,
but with a sinister aura of evil.

I was caught by him.
He caught me.

And then I woke up.
My hands were trembling.
My body was hot, like I had a fever.

Confusing feelings filled my chest like a storm.
I remembered him perfectly—
every feature of his face,
his semi-naked body like a statue of a god.

I had to keep him somehow.

I ran to my painting studio.
I didn’t even care what I was wearing.
I had to paint him—
before I lost his essence forever.

And that’s what I did.

Line by line,
I brushed the canvas with care and love—
like never before.

I captured everything:
his aura,
his pale, dolly-like skin,
his skinny frame,
his slightly long black hair,
and most importantly—
those purple eyes that drove me mad.

After hours and hours of painting every detail,
it was done.
Finally done.

I fell to my knees in front of my masterpiece.
Tears ran down my face—
but I didn’t know why.
I wasn’t sad.

Why am I crying?

I could never understand.
But I wanted to see him again,
even if he wasn’t real.

Then, I heard footsteps.

Peeking from the corner of my eye,
it was Sigma—
a friend from the circus.
He worked in gymnastics.
Handsome.
Almost too handsome to be working here.

“I heard loud noises. Mykola, are you—? Oh wow… it’s been a long time since I’ve seen you paint like this. How nostalgic,” he said,
pausing as he stepped beside me, standing to my right.

I was almost in a state of shock, though I didn’t know why.
Was it the painting?

“Sorry for the noise, Sigma. I had a hit of inspiration,” I said honestly.

Sigma side-eyed me with a slight smile, like he was happy to see the energy returning to my body—
my love for painting alive again.

“It’s totally fine. Does it have a name?”

His question pulled me out of my daze.
He was right—
I hadn’t named it.

I stood up and smiled at him.

“It’s called Fedya.”

Chapter 2: My beloved Fedya.

Summary:

Uh.. so I already wrote this before but I posted it on Wattpad first bcs we crazy like thgat, my ass hurts.

Notes:

Peepee

Days and weeks passed like nothing,
but I kept painting the man I named Fedya.

Months passed, and the circus had practically become a museum of my art.
People loved it, though. Everyone was having fun.

But I was starting to lose my own mind.

I wanted to see him again.

Slowly, painting wasn’t enough.
I wanted him.
To feel him again.

I hadn’t even realized—
my cheeks would flush like crazy when I admired my own paintings.
But it wasn’t the painting I was admiring...
it was the man in it.

Even without knowing what he was,
if he was real,
or the purpose of the feelings I couldn’t understand—
he had me.

Like an object.
A pet.
A mascot.

There was something about him,
something I couldn’t explain.

Was it his eyes?
His looks?
His body?
His expression when he looked at me?
His touch?

I would never know.

I was stuck in my own bubble,
trapped by something I didn’t understand.

My best friend, Sigma—someone I truly cared for—was concerned about me.
He told me maybe I should try therapy.

I knew he didn’t mean it in a bad way.
He cared about my health.

But how could just a dream change so much of my life?

There had to be something.
Was it a sign?

Oh, my dear Fedya...
I want to meet you.

Sigma knocked on my door.
I was lost in thought again,
just me and my mind,
so I didn’t even notice at first—
until he knocked harder, snapping me out of my bubble.

“I’m on my way!” — I called out, fixing my clothes quickly.

I opened the door and saw Sigma smiling like never before.
He rarely smiled, but he did with me—
which meant he was happy about something.

I could tell by the shaking of his hands and the tapping of his leg—
he was excited.

I raised an eyebrow.
Then Sigma hugged me.

I froze—
my eyes wide open in shock.
Sigma hated hugs and physical contact.

“Mykola, you’re getting famous!” — he said.

I felt my shoulders get wet.
Was he crying?

Famous?
I didn’t understand what he meant.
I was too confused—until he continued.

“My manager told me there’s a museum that’s got their eyes on your paintings. They want to buy them. And... maybe your Fedya is really something. This is an amazing opportunity! Isn’t painting your dream?”

Dream...
He was right.

It was my dream.

But I never thought it could actually come true.
I stood there in pure shock.

I didn’t want to sell them.

Yes, it was a great opportunity.
But something made my heart ache.

Sigma was happy for me,
but I didn’t want to become famous,
or see my paintings in a museum.

I already had the best friends I could ask for.
I had time to paint what I loved.
Everything I ever wanted.

I smiled and hugged Sigma back.

“I don’t need that, Sigma. I won’t sell them. I like how my paintings look around the circus.
Besides, I’d get so anxious! Eeeugh...! Teehee~” — I said playfully.

Sigma looked at me with a bit of surprise, then smiled and nodded.
I loved how understanding he was.

He took my hands in his and smiled at me.
I felt comfort—warmth.

I was always safe with Sigma.
He never judged me.
He was always there for me—
and I was there for him.

“I get it. You love those paintings, after all.
I kind of predicted you wouldn’t sell them.
I have to go now—tomorrow’s a busy day for us.”

I nodded. He was right.
We needed our rest—
the shows took all our energy.

“You’re right. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He smiled, waved goodbye, and left.

Almost instantly, I collapsed onto my bed.
I didn’t even know where all my energy had gone.

My eyes felt heavy...
and slowly, I drifted into a deep dream.

“Where am I?...”

That was the first question that came to my mind.

It was a beautiful garden.
I could see trees and flowers—
so colorful, almost unreal.

And in the distance—
I saw him.

He was sitting at the base of a tree, reading a book.

My heart stopped.

Before I knew it, I was running toward him.
He wore casual clothes,
and as I got closer, I thought I saw a faint smile.

Now I was in front of him, panting for breath.
He raised his head to look at me.

His expression was neutral—
I couldn’t read it—
until he gently gestured for me to sit next to him.

I parted my lips, feeling nervous,
but I sat beside him.

He stared at me with a small smile.

“So... what are you reading?” — I asked.

He closed the book and handed it to me.

“Crime and Punishment.”

What a book.
I smiled and tried to give it back,
but he didn’t take it.

“You can keep it.”

“Woah! Really?!” — I asked.

He nodded.

His voice was calm and soft—
like a drug.
I wanted to hear more of it.

Without even realizing it, I was addicted to him.
To everything about him.

His presence, his touch,
the way he saw me.

“That’s... so nice. Thank you.”

He didn’t respond.
Just gently caressed my hair, leaning closer.

I could feel his breath.
I was blushing hard—
my heart racing like never before.

“W-What’s your—”

I was cut off.

He kissed me.

It was short.
His lips were soft.
I froze, placing my hand over my mouth, stunned.

He chuckled—
and it made me shiver.

“My name is...”

But before he could finish, I woke up.

My body was burning up, like I had a fever.
I felt frustrated that I didn’t get to know his name.

I was about to get up to make my bed—
when I noticed something strange.

Something was under the sheets.

I searched around until I found it.

A book.

“Crime and Punishment.”

My lips parted in shock.
When did this get here?
Some pages were missing...

Maybe someone left it here by accident?

It was weird. Too weird.

I looked at the author’s name:

“Fyodor Dostoyevsky, huh?” — I smirked,
tucking the book away and crawling back into bed.

But when morning came...
the book was no longer there.

Who is this person?...

Notes:

Out of context but today I fainted bcs I farted just to let you know

Chapter 3: •3 Familiar feeling

Summary:

Uhh... yes :3

My name is Fyodor. Fyodor Dostoyevsky.
I’m a writer.

These days, I haven’t had much motivation, and people keep pushing me to write—
which I hate.

I hate being pushed.

I like writing,
but not when I’m being forced to.

Coffee has become my best friend at this point.
I barely sleep anymore.

I get it—I'm a busy man—
but my eyes always feel so heavy.

Weeks pass like years.
Every blink is slow.

Anemia just makes it worse.
Yes, I’m anemic.

I feel tired.
So tired.

I’m fighting my own body now.
I don’t even know if I fell asleep or fainted.
But whatever it was,
my eyes closed...
and I felt nothing.

I’m not a dreamer.
I don’t often dream.
Usually just black void until I wake up again.

But this time was different.

Strange.

I was... in a circus.
It caught me off guard.

Everything was so vivid, so real—
it didn’t feel like a dream at all.

But it wasn’t unpleasant.
I was mostly intrigued.

I peeked in and saw someone standing at the center.
They were wearing a beautiful black-and-white suit.

I approached him.
He had long, lovely white hair, braided elegantly.
He turned his head toward me.

I parted my lips in surprise as our eyes met.

He had a scar over his left eye.

I thought he’d be scared—
or at least confused—
but instead, he smiled.

I didn’t know what to say.
For the first time, I was out of words.

He took my hand with a wide smile,
looking me directly in the eyes.

“My, my! I didn’t know we had a guest! ~ What a lovely surprise!”
— he said in a playful tone, which caught me off guard.

What was he talking about?

“Oh, you’re shy? No worries!~ I don’t bite.”
He winked at me.

I felt my cheeks heat up.
Was I embarrassed?

I smiled back slightly, trying to say without words that I was fine.

“Cheeky! Hahaha. I’ve never seen you before, so I guess you are new!~ I love new people. My name’s Nikolai Gogol. And you are?”
— he said as he shook my hand playfully.

“Fyodor Dostoyevsky. A pleasure,”
I said calmly.

He gasped dramatically, and I raised an eyebrow.

“Do you have a problem?”

“Not at all! Such a pretty name! Don’t be so defensive, silly! I’m no one to judge names, fufu~”
He chuckled.

Maybe I was being defensive.
I couldn’t help it sometimes.
It made me feel a little bad—
but he didn’t seem to mind.
Almost like he was used to it.
Odd.

“Oh, my time is up, Dos Dos! I have to go nooooow~ Promise you’ll visit me again sometime! Maybe soon, maybe not.”

His smile faded slightly.
I parted my lips, unsure what to say.

This was all too weird.
The circus, Nikolai, myself.

Nothing was normal.

“What is—”
I couldn’t finish.

A sharp blade stabbed into me.
I coughed blood instantly,
my body freezing in shock.

I looked down—
and saw Nikolai’s hand on the blade.

His wide grin returned.

“Don’t trust clowns, silly! ~”
he said, giggling.

What was funny?

His laughter grew louder.
Then louder.
All around me, the space filled with laughter and shrieks.
My ears ached.

My whole body ached.

I collapsed to the floor, blood pouring out of me.
The pain was beyond words.
I couldn’t move.

What was happening?
It wasn’t a dream.

It was a nightmare.

I was spinning.
Trapped.
Falling in circles.

"Ah..."

I gasped, waking up, breathing heavily.

I was sweating.
My desk was a mess—ink smudged across pages.
I frowned in frustration.

I can’t send this in. It’s ruined.
What am I going to do?

I was about to slam the table—
when someone knocked on the door, freezing me in place.

“You... uh... you can come in.”
I sighed.

The door opened.
It was Ivan Goncharov—my assistant.
He waved politely and stepped in.
I was used to people seeing me in this state.

“Sir, I hope I’m not interrupting, but... people keep calling and—”

“Shut.”
I cut him off.

He froze.
Probably scared of my shift in tone.
I stared at him neutrally.
He swallowed nervously.

Ivan was loyal.
He never protested.
Always followed instructions.
Sometimes even outside work.

He was probably scared of making a mistake—
but he hadn’t.

**“I know.
We’re leaving, Ivan.
Call them and say we’re done.

I don’t work with pushy people.”**

He blinked a few times, then nodded quickly.

“May— never mind. I’ll go now!”

He zipped out of the room.

I smiled softly and began packing the essentials.

I was finally getting out of this room.

The room I’d been trapped in for days—maybe weeks.

As I stepped out, the air wasn’t heavy anymore.

It was... fresh.

Nice.

Maybe I should stop overworking myself.
How could I forget the feeling of fresh air?

Ivan was still on the phone.
When he saw me, he smiled gently.

“I’ll take a bath, if you don’t mind.
And if you can... could you look for a nearby circus?”

He seemed surprised.

“No, it’s totally fine, sir.
May I ask why?”

“Nothing much.
I just want to see one.”

He didn’t buy it,
but he didn’t ask further.

He nodded with a smile.
I nodded back and went to the bathroom.

A warm shower.
God, what a relief.

The warmth was something I’d needed for far too long.

I didn’t linger too long, though—
Ivan was waiting.

I dried off, changed into casual clothes, and did my usual routine.

When I stepped out, Ivan was in the same spot.
He leaned in, showing me his phone.

“Sir, I found one.
Two hours from here.
Does it catch your interest?”

“The Dreamer’s Circus.
Yes. I like it.”

He smiled.
“Perfect. We’re still on time. Let’s hurry, sir.”

Two hours and sixteen minutes later,
we arrived.

It was beautiful.

The lights.
The music.
Even the food looked decent.

I parted my lips in surprise.

I didn’t want to show it—
but I was clearly enjoying it.

Until I saw them.

Six paintings.
All of me.

Or someone exactly like me.

Same hair.
Same face.
Same expression.

It was... odd.

I took a step back.
Ivan noticed.

“Sir, if you want to leave, we can—”
But he was cut off by the speaker system:

“Hello, beloved guests! The show is about to start!
Please remember to pay for your entry!”

I swallowed and nodded toward the entrance booth.
We bought tickets.

Even the lady selling them looked shocked when she saw me.

I guess I looked just like the man in the paintings.
I noticed the name on one: "Fedya."

What does that mean?
I didn’t think too hard about it.
Not yet.

We headed to our seats to watch the show.

The performances were great.

The costumes, music—
everything felt surprisingly charming.

Until he appeared.

The clown from my dream.

He was performing, and began asking for volunteers.

I stood up.

Ivan looked at me, wide-eyed.

Even I was surprised by what I was doing.
I hated attention.
But this felt... right.

I approached the stage.
The clown looked directly at me.

“My, my!
We found our little volunteer!
Come here, don’t be shy~”
—he said in a cheeky tone.

He reached out, helping me onto the stage.

As I looked at him,
his joyful expression faded into something else—
Fear.

“Wh—Ah... We... continue with our show!”
He smiled again, but now it was nervous.

“Why are you nervous?
Isn’t this your show?”
I asked with a grin.

He shivered, swallowing hard.

“Ohohoho, why would I? ~
My lovely guest, do you like animals?”
He pulled a balloon from his sleeve.

How...?

“Rats. I like rats.”

“Oh, you’re a cheeky one, huh?
Do you like cheese, Mr. Ratman? ~”

The audience laughed at the dumb joke.
I felt a little embarrassed.
He noticed—
and smirked.

He quickly twisted the balloon into a small rat
and handed it to me.

“Do you like your mini rat, Mr. Ratman?”

“I do.”

He seemed surprised.
Was he expecting me to hate it?

“Weeeeeell! I have a surprise for you!”
He mimed pulling something from his ear—
and pulled out another balloon.

The audience gasped.

“Here! A bigger rat!”

My jaw dropped.
He really pulled a balloon rat from his ear.

The crowd cheered.

I was getting uncomfortable from all the eyes on me.

Then, suddenly,
he grabbed my hand and pulled me offstage.

“Hey, hey! What are yo—”

“Shhh!”

He shushed me.
I was offended—
but this wasn’t the time.

He ran until we were alone, both of us panting.

“You... ah... who... who are you...?”
he breathed out.

“That’s what I should be asking!”
I said, still out of breath.

He looked at me, eyes wide.

We spoke at the same time:

“I know your eyes...”

“Nikolai... is that your name?”

He chuckled nervously, then nodded.

“And yours...?”
He seemed unsure—
like he didn’t know me at all.

“Fyodor Dostoyevsky.”

He gasped, grabbing my shoulders.

“It’s you! It’s you, it’s you, it’s YOU!
You’re the author of that book I found in my bed after that weird dream!”

My head was spinning.

“Wha—What?”

He pulled me into his room, grabbed a book, and pointed at it excitedly.

“Crime and Punishment... That’s mine.
But it’s weird—I barely sold copies of that one.
It’s extremely weird that you have it.”

“Really?
Guess I’m lucky.”
I sighed, exhausted—
and finally asked the question-
'' Nikolai, why were you in my dream? ''

Notes:

I might have some kind of thing on my balls idk what though

Chapter 4: Just to know you

Nikolai was shocked.
He didn’t know how to answer, and I could tell from his expression just how amazed he was.
Was it a déjà vu feeling? I couldn’t tell.
He looked like… like he was gasping, frozen, overwhelmed.
Even as a writer, I couldn’t describe that look.
I didn’t know why any of this was happening—the dreams, how quickly I found him…
Everything was so strange.

“Like I know! What a rude question, Dostoy!~”
He said in a playful tone, though his expression showed a hint of annoyance, like he was offended.
What a childish person.
I was starting to feel irritated, but he noticed and parted his lips.

“Sorry… I just… joke when I’m nervous or don’t know what to say—because I don’t know the answer either.”
He looked ashamed.
I wasn’t satisfied with the answer, and he could tell by my expression.
But it was fine.

I sighed and smiled gently.
I took his hand, making him look at me in surprise.

“It’s okay, Nikolai. It doesn’t bother me.”

· Nikolai’s POV ·

I could barely say anything.
I didn’t know why his words amazed me so much.
Was it his beauty?
Was it how long I had wanted to see him in real life?
My obsession made me flustered.

My lips trembled.
I felt trapped in his gaze—
small and vulnerable for the first time in forever.

Is it too soon to call it love?
What else do I call the butterflies in my chest?
I panicked and slapped his hand away, all flustered.

“Ah… sorry!”
I quickly apologized, but he just chuckled like he didn’t mind.
What is this feeling?
I felt a strange connection…
Was it the dreams?
His eyes?
His voice?
Or just the way he unknowingly pulled me in?

“It’s okay, no need to apologize. Are you scared of touch?”
he asked.

I’d never asked myself that before.

“No… I’m not. I just… got caught off guard.”

I took his hand again and placed it gently on my cheek.
His lips parted a little.

“Your hands are warm… just like I imagined. You are so dreamy, Dostoy!~”

I chuckled.
He gasped, making me laugh harder.
His cheeks turned slightly red.
He was so pretty.

“Don’t say stuff like that out of nowhere,”
he hissed.

I just smiled and kissed his hand.

“Y’know, Dostoy...~ You’re not the only victim of weird dreams.
I dream about you quite often… for months now.
I painted those so I’d never forget the man I saw so many times.
How could I forget such a pretty man?”
I said softly.

He coughed and smiled back.

“I see…
No, I only had one dream, and I came looking for answers…
but I didn’t expect that none of us would have any.”

I nodded—
but Sigma walked in and cut me off.
Not on purpose, of course,
but I still jumped.

“Nikolai? Nik—Finally! There you are. I looked all over the place!
You always get me worried and—
Oh, I didn’t notice you were with...
Fedya?!”

He froze, staring at the man from my paintings.
It was like he’d seen a demon.
Fyodor and I chuckled—
but Sigma didn’t laugh.
He just looked… embarrassed.

“Teheh… sorry, Sig!~ This is my new friend, Dostoy!
I just found him and…
yeah, he really looks like Fedya, doesn’t he?”

“I’m pretty sure it’s not just a resemblance…
But I guess you’ll explain later.
I came to tell you some guy’s looking for someone,
and I can bet it’s your… new friend.”

Sigma sighed.
I always cause problems, don’t I?

“Ah, my apologies. It’s probably my assistant looking for me.
I have to go,”
Dostoyevsky said.

It made my chest ache.
Did I want him to—
I can’t lie to myself.
I did want him to stay.
Maybe I’m in love...

“Oh, I see…
Hope to see you soon!~”
He nodded and left the room.

I would be lying if I said I didn’t want to ask him to stay.
But I said nothing.
Once he left, I felt… lost.

I don’t know what’s happening to me.
I feel like I’m in a cage.
A cage full of love.
I feel so happy,
but so sad at the same time.

“So… should I act normal?
Like I didn’t just see the guy from your paintings?”
Sigma raised an eyebrow.

“Pft… don’t be so silly!
I feel just as confused as you!~”

Sigma didn’t like that answer.
I could tell from his expression.
But as expected,
he didn’t push.

“Guess I’ll just pretend I’m not concerned.”

I hugged him gently.
I think I needed that hug.
I felt so relieved when he hugged me back and chuckled.

“What is this all about?”
he asked.

“Nothing, you silly!~
I just wanted to hug my best friend.
Is that a sin?”
I said with a grin.

Sigma’s arms never failed to comfort me.

“Pft… no, it’s not.
I don’t mind you hugging me.”

He said it gently.
I couldn’t stop smiling when Sigma hugged me—
or just showed affection.

But I can’t help asking myself…

What comes next?
Am I just making things up?
Maybe.

I just need to sleep.

Notes:

This was short, mb yall

Chapter 5: He laughs at me.

When I woke up in my bed, my body hurt like hell. What the fuck was going on? But everything seemed the same. Fyodor’s book was there. Did I sleep with my clothes on? What a night. The clock said 3:56 AM. My god, it’s so late. I should be sleeping.

I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror. Sometimes I hate it, sometimes I like it, depends on my mood I guess. Today was fine. I did the basics of washing up and unbraided my hair—my long hair. I’ve been growing it for years. I never really liked how short hair looked on me.

I placed my hand on the mirror while staring at myself. I had a scar in my left eye. I usually cover it with jester makeup for my performances. I don’t say I hate it; I learned to live with it. I have so many weird features I change with just makeup and people believe it’s fake—but it’s not. You can always lie to others, but never yourself. That’s something I know for sure.

I get deep about myself a lot. Thinking is something I do when I’m bored, mostly alone—because when I’m with someone it’s easier to annoy or joke around. But when I’m alone, I don’t know what to joke about. I don’t have a topic to talk to myself. Or maybe I do. I have a topic now: myself.

Just thinking about me, my ideals, my liberty, my everything—knowing myself even better. But I often... Ah!

I saw him. He was in the reflection of my mirror, just behind me. What the fuck was that? The only thought in my mind made me look behind me, horrified. But there was nothing there. I was trembling and looked back at the mirror—he wasn’t there. Am I going crazy?

“What the...” I mumbled. Suddenly my legs gave out and I fell to the floor. My eyes closed from the pain. When I opened them again... he was there, kneeling beside me, smiling.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

I didn’t want to blink. I tried to touch his face, but he was already gone—like he was never there. Is this all my imagination? I think I’m losing my sanity.

Or is this a nightmare? Everything feels so real. I’m just confused. I stood up and looked at myself in the mirror again. I was fine, just scared-looking. Maybe it was just my imagination. I mean, there’s no way he could actually be in my room. Just no way! I giggled at myself. How silly.

I walked back into my room—only to see him again, now sitting on my bed reading that book Crime and Punishment. When he saw me, he closed the book and smiled. I smiled back, confused.

“What’s wrong, dear?” he asked. “Dear?” My cheeks flushed. What’s wrong with me? Why does he make me so nervous? He isn’t even real... at least that’s what I want to believe.

“Nothing! You just caught me off guard, that’s all. Haha...” He giggled softly and stood up, walking over to me and grabbing my cheek, caressing it gently. My body felt like it was melting with feelings I couldn’t name. My eyes widened, my lips parted, trying to speak—but nothing came out. I felt so frustrated and excited—like a dog being called a good boy.

“You’re such a good clown, my love.” Speaking of good boys... oh god, so many things are happening. What is all of this? Love? Good clown? Why is he... why does he? So many questions, and I can’t even ask. He smirked and leaned closer, our lips almost touching. I could feel his warm breath, making me shiver. Oh god, is he about to kiss me? I closed my eyes, waiting. I don’t know why I did it—I just wanted it to happen. I wanted to feel his lips, his soft pink lips. They were sore the last time I felt them. God, what am I even saying?!

“...” Huh? I opened my eyes again, feeling the lack of touch. But... why was I in my bed?! I guess it was all a dream after all. What am I even thinking? I feel sick. I want him, but... I think he will never want me back. He just laughs at my misery.

“Fyodor... are you going to visit me again?” I whispered, hoping my wish would come true. I want... him? What does all this even mean?

God, I’m such a fool.

Chapter 6: Foolish little clown.

Summary:

Hi it's been so long...

Fyodor couldn’t sleep these days, barely managing an hour each night. It wasn’t like he could help it—no matter how hard he tried, something just wouldn’t let him rest. The lack of sleep was taking its toll; his health was deteriorating fast. He could barely hold a pencil anymore, his body ached, and even blinking hurt, his eyes burning from exhaustion. His lips were dry, and he hadn’t eaten in hours, too restless to care. The misery was suffocating.

The only sound in the room was the slow tap… tap… tap of Fyodor’s bitten nails against the desk as he rested his head there, lost in thought. Trying to understand how everything had fallen apart overnight. Was it the dreams? The clown? The questions haunted him, and yet he refused to give up.

A knock at the door startled him.

— “Who is it?” — Fyodor asked quietly, his voice hoarse.

— “Ivan. I just wanted to check in. I haven’t seen you leave your room in a while.”

— “You can come in.”

The long-haired boy entered quietly, setting down a cup of coffee on the desk. He immediately noticed how pale Fyodor looked—paler than usual, almost like a ghost. Concern crept into Ivan’s eyes.

— “I don’t want to bother you, but you look… really sick. Are you okay?”

Fyodor didn’t answer at first. He stared at the coffee as if it held all the answers, lost deep in his own swirling thoughts.

— “As you can see, I’m sick.” His voice was slow and patient, resigned.

— “Are you still going to visit that circus? I’m worried you’ll faint.”

— “I’ll be fine. I’ll call you if I need help.”

Ivan sighed but nodded, stepping back.

— “Alright.”

Fyodor set the cup aside after a small sip, ignoring the gnawing hunger and exhaustion. He forced a weak smile.

— “… You’re not convinced, but don’t worry—I’m not going to die.”

Ivan smiled back, teasing.

— “Now I’m actually worried you will.”

Fyodor stood, pulling on his scarf against the cold.

— “Well then, I’m leaving. Bye.”

He waved and stepped out, his mind already racing. On the two-hour journey to the circus, his thoughts tangled—dreams, Nikolai, the strange connection he couldn’t untangle. He wanted answers, and maybe to understand the goofy, intense boy who’d suddenly become so important to him.

Finally at the circus, Fyodor hesitated before stepping inside. His eyes immediately landed on the familiar painting—“Fedya”—and despite himself, he was still unaccustomed to seeing his own image displayed so openly, some of them even semi-naked.

— “…”

Before he could leave, Nikolai appeared behind him.

— “BOOO! Hehe, did I scare you?”

Fyodor smirked.

— “Not at all. Am I early for the show?”

Nikolai beamed.

— “Maybe! But that’s great—we get more time together, my beloved Fedya!”

He grabbed Fyodor’s hand and pulled him along.

— “Beloved? Nikolai, where are we going?”

Nikolai didn’t answer at first, only smiling shyly once they stood outside his room.

— “My room!”

— “You always take me to your room, don’t you?”

Nikolai went silent, cheeks flushing.

— “I don’t mind.”

He opened the door and let Fyodor in. The room was exactly as last time. Fyodor eyed the book on the table.

— “Still impressed by the book?”

Nikolai plopped down on the bed.

— “I had a dream about you, reading this same book. You gifted it to me, and when I woke up, it was here. You can check if you want.”

Fyodor picked it up, flipping through the pages. Some were missing, the handwriting unmistakably his own.

— “How weird.”

Nikolai frowned.

— “What’s wrong?”

— “This is my handwriting. It’s like… the first draft of Crime and Punishment I ever did.”

Nikolai blinked, confused.

— “Really? Cool!”

Fyodor gave a half-smile that clearly said Are you serious?

— “You’re so mean, don’t give me that face!”

— “Why do you care so much? Now you have me! I’m the guy from your dreams—I’ve been waiting for you.”

Nikolai looked frustrated.

— “You don’t understand—I want to know more about these dreams.”

His voice was needy.

— “Oh? You want to go deep on me? Cheeky~”

Fyodor blushed but refused to fall for the flirt.

They sat in silence for a while. Nikolai tried to reach for Fyodor’s hand but gave up. Feeling bad, Fyodor gently took it instead.

— “I want to know more about these dreams, too.”

Nikolai sighed, cuddling closer.

— “My dreams… I saw you in all of them. You understood me, saw into me. I felt alive. You made me feel alive. And now, even though it’s real, I still think this is a dream.”

He closed his eyes and smiled.

Fyodor stayed quiet for a moment, then finally spoke.

— “What would you do if it was a dream?”

Time passed.

— “Paint it when I wake up.”

— “But you won’t leave me, right?”

— “What do you mean?”

— “Leave me. You aren’t a dream. You were meant to be mine.”

Nikolai hugged him tightly, as if afraid he’d disappear.

— “Nikolai…”

Fyodor gasped as exhaustion hit like a wave. His body ached from the lack of sleep, and his eyelids drooped.

He let go.

— “Huh… Fedya? Hey, HEY! Wake up! The show’s about to start! Hey!”

Nikolai panicked, shaking Fyodor gently. Checking his pulse, relief flooded him when he realized Fyodor was alive.

— “Oh… Fedya, you won’t leave…”

Tears pricked Nikolai’s eyes.

— “I miss you.”

He kissed Fyodor’s lips softly before being called to the stage.

— “I hope you don’t wake up soon. I’ll be back!”

As Nikolai left, Fyodor lay on the bed, tired and barely awake.

Chapter 7: What do you want from me?

— I was here again, in this dream, this same circus. I was more cautious about my actions since the last time I was here I got stabbed. Even if it was a dream, it still hurt.

— "Where are you, Nikolai? I want to see you." I said. I wasn’t comfortable not knowing where the clown was. If I was going to dream about this place again, I didn’t want to get stabbed every time.

— "Oh, hoho~ Does Mr. Ratman love me already? Why do you want to see me so badly? Do you like me? ☆" he said in a playful tone. I didn’t like this place at all.

— "Don’t play like that. Actually, stop playing with me, Nikolai." His smile faded away.

— "Why would I play with you? We’re just having fun!" Like he was mocking me. I was so tired of his games. Just thinking about my stomach bleeding from that stab made me want to puke. I peeked toward a balloon—it was a rat-shaped balloon. That made me feel dizzy. Had I seen that rat balloon before? Was it covered in blood?

— "Mhhh?" He looked at where I was looking, like he didn’t understand why I was staring so intently at that little rat.

— "Did you lose something? Keep your silly little eyes on ME!" He frowned, irritated.

— "Apologies, I just thought I already knew that rat, and to my surprise, it has blood stains." A small silence consumed the place. We were both just staring at each other with nonchalant expressions.

— "Do you mean that balloon?" He pointed, and I nodded.

— "You’re kidding, right? I made that balloon for you!" I remembered now—when we met, he made that balloon for me. Why is it here?

— "Right, I forgot…" When I said that, I could feel how bad Nikolai felt. Maybe it hurt his feelings. I tried to hold his hand, but he pushed it away.

— "Nikolai… I didn’t mean that. Sorry." Why am I apologizing? He’s not even real. This is a dream… isn’t it?

— "You think I’m a fool? You clearly don’t mean that ‘poorly sorry,’ and I know you don’t trust me. You’ve been pushy all this time. What if I’m not real? We can be trapped in this dream forever! I can make you feel like I’m real. We can be together, Fedya!" I gave him a disgusted expression, but I didn’t mean to do that, and he didn’t like it. He walked even closer to me and grabbed my hands.

— "Say something, please…" I sighed and went more neutral.

— "I understand." I said with a hint of neutrality in my voice, but I had a smile at the corner of my lips. His eyes sparkled with a glaze of happiness, like my words sent him to heaven.

— "I knew you were different. You understand me…" He was pleading like he was about to cry.

— "I do understand your selfish thoughts, but I won’t follow them. I don’t want to be trapped in this dream. I have things to do." He stood there silently until he clenched his fist, irritated and frustrated.

— "Then you did not understand anything! Why don’t you get it?! I need you! I need you! I NEED YOU! I NEED YOU! I NEED YOU! I NEED YOU!" He started screaming as he grabbed a knife. I pushed myself back, thinking he was about to stab me again. Fool of me—as he started stabbing himself while laughing.

— "Nikolai, wait!" I tried to stop him, but he wasn’t slowing down. He couldn’t stop laughing—this same laugh from my first dream, the laugh that made me feel dizzy. He finally stopped and coughed up blood.

— "Fedya, do you love me?" He asked with a pleading look.

— "I don’t know yet. You confuse me." He looked at the floor, disappointed. I was about to add more to my sentence when I felt someone moving me. I closed my eyes tightly, and when I opened them, I was back in reality, with Nikolai moving me until he saw me wake up.

— "God, finally! I was so scared. When I left you here, you were asleep, and when I came back, you were still sleeping! For a moment, I thought you were dead, Dostoy!" He shook me like he was making sure I was awake. I frowned and tried to stop him from shaking me.

— "I’m awake now. Don’t worry about me. Lately, I’ve been having sleep problems…" He sighed, helping me sit on the bed.

— "Is that so? You bought your ticket for the show and slept through the whole thing—so rude! But I’ll forgive you because you slept on my bed." He laughed. Hearing that laugh so much in my dreams now makes me feel dizzy even in real life. I smiled.

— "You’re cute when you say stuff like that." Why did I say that? He clearly didn’t know why either because he stared at me like he saw a ghost. Then he started blushing.

— "Oh! Oh… OH OH OHOHOHOHOH?!" He made noises like he didn’t know what to say. I didn’t either.

— "You… think I’m cute… haha… hahahaha… oh, Fedya, you’re so funny! Don’t joke like that! You make me feel flustered." I scoffed a small laugh.

— "It’s not a joke. I mean it." He gulped, not knowing what to do. He shakily tried to get closer to me, and I let him.

— "Don’t play with me…" Nikolai said, almost pleading.

— "I’m not playing. Aren’t you the one who’s always playing?" He made an offended expression, but I was right, and he knew it. We just smiled at each other—those smiles that say you don’t need words, like we had everything but at the same time nothing. I had so many feelings but didn’t know what they meant. I don’t know what to feel about him. He’s so different from my dreams. Why do I dream of him like he’s a completely different person? I like him more in reality, but I think ‘like’ is a strong word. Maybe I just feel more comfortable with him. Maybe he knew I was overthinking and wanted to talk.

— "What are you thinking about? Me? ~" He giggled. His small laugh made me smile again. He was right.

— "Maybe you’re right. And you? What are you thinking about?" I asked.

— "I’m thinking… about us." That response caught me off guard. What did he mean? My confused expression made him shiver, like he regretted saying that.

— "I… just like you a lot, Fedya, but I know you don’t like me that way." I stood silently for a few seconds.

— "Do you like me or the man of your dreams?" The room was silent.

— "I want to know you better so I can answer that question." I felt pleased by his honesty.

— "I asked that because you said, ‘I like you a lot, Fedya,’ and not Dostoy, but I feel okay with getting to know each other first." Nikolai gulped and nodded.

— "You always understand everything…"

— "Not everything. Knowing everything is too much." I let out a small laugh. He smiled and giggled. I wonder why this Nikolai is so different. If I know him better, maybe I’ll understand more.

— "What about we play a quiz game?! It’s fun, I swear! We just make questions and answer with pure honesty! Do you like my idea?"

— "Sounds fun."

— "Okay! Then I start."

— "Why do you start?" I asked with a playful tone.

— "Well, Mr. Ratman! I started the whole idea, so I’ll start making questions." Nikolai giggled and gave me a small push.

— "If you say so, then go ahead."

— "Okay! How about… who do you trust the most?" Such a weird question.

— "Mh, not an easy question, I see. Maybe Ivan, my assistant. I can always count on him. He’s really loyal—a little too much." Nikolai looked like he was thinking about something, then smiled.

— "I can be loyal too. ANYWAYS! Your turn."

I raised an eyebrow, but he was clearly joking, so I downplayed it.

— "Mh, what’s your favorite hobby?"

— "Well, it’s an old hobby I left behind, but now I like painting a lot, just like before." I nodded.

— "Oh, yes, I remember your paintings. I like them a lot." Nikolai smiled widely. If he were a dog, he’d probably be wagging his tail.

— "How about you? You like writing, right?" I was silent for a bit.

— "Well, yes, I do enjoy writing a lot. When I was in school, all I did was write. I find it fun because everything that’s on my mind can be put on paper." He wasn’t amused. I think he kinda expected that answer.

— "Well, I wasted my question on something I already knew." He groaned annoyed.

— "You have to think first before asking a question."

— "Ye heve to thenk befere deing a questen." He mocked me.

— "Well then, your worst fear?" Nikolai was silent for a few seconds.

— "I don’t want to play anymore…" I felt a little intrigued by his words. I didn’t want to pressure him into answering, so I just nodded and smiled.

— "It’s okay if you don’t want to answer. Then, when is your next show?" He seemed like he was thinking.

— "Now that you mention it, it’s soon. Will you see it this time?" Nikolai smiled at me as he hugged me.

— "Of course I will." I stroked his hair a little; it was very soft. But we both got scared when we heard someone knocking at the door.

— "Who is it?" Nikolai asked as he pushed away from me.

— "Sigma. Do you know where that Fedya guy is? Someone is looking for him." It was his friend, asking for me. It was probably Ivan, worried that I hadn’t come back. I got up from the bed and walked toward the door. Nikolai went behind me as I opened the door and looked at Sigma.

— "Oh, well, someone is looking for you…" Sigma was shy now, embarrassed that I heard him. Behind him was my assistant, Ivan.

— "Master… I mean, boss, I was so worried you didn’t come back at the time we talked." Ivan was frustrated. I could feel Nikolai was not feeling good about it—not about Ivan.

— "Sorry, I fell asleep. Nikolai took care of me." Ivan smiled and looked at Nikolai, but Nikolai was staring at him like he was about to kill him, so his smile faded. Maybe he was scared?

— "Dostoy, are you leaving? You said you were going to my next show! You liar, liar!" Nikolai hugged me from behind. He was acting like a little kid in front of everyone with no shame. Sigma raised an eyebrow, and Ivan looked confused.

— "We can attend your show, right, Ivan?" Nikolai wasn’t pleased with that. Was he jealous of Ivan?

— "Oh, well." Ivan looked at Nikolai, who was deadly staring at him.

— "I’ll pass. I can wait for you outside…" I looked at him confused but agreed.

— "Okay then." Sigma frowned at Nikolai like he knew what Nikolai was doing.

— "I think he can attend too." Sigma added. Nikolai was displeased.

— "No, no, it’s okay." Ivan said with discomfort.

— "I insist!" Sigma smiled and pushed Ivan a little.

— "Well… if you insist." Nikolai glared at Sigma, let go of me, walked toward Sigma, took his hand, and left with him—leaving me and Ivan there, confused.

— "…"

— "…" We looked at each other.

— "Boss, who is he?" Ivan said with a trembling voice. I sighed but knew he was going to ask that.

— "Someone I’ve been dreaming about."

Chapter 8: Look at me

— Was I angry? Maybe. Or was I mad? Perhaps pissed off? OR MAYBE JUST ALL OF THEM TOGETHER BECAUSE IT’S ALL THE SAME! My best friend, my pal, my buddy, my silly willy dicky dupy friend just BETRAYED me! From all people, him? Really?

— "Sigma... you know I love you very muuuuuch and that you ARE my best friend, so act like it! Why did you tell that creepy guy he can stay!? It was my chance to have more time with Fedya!" — I cried out, pretending to be in tears.

— "You’re such a bold guy to think you’re the one to call someone 'creepy.' Look at you, Nikolai, you’ve been acting so strange lately. When are you explaining about that whatever-his-name-is guy?" — Sigma wasn’t playing games; he went straight to the point.

— "It’s so hard to explain! How do I even start?!" — My brain felt like it was about to explode into pieces.

— "So, I think... I’m in love with him?" — I looked down shyly. I didn’t want to see Sigma’s reaction, but my curiosity betrayed me, and I peeked a little. His face was hard to read. Was he disappointed? Or just weirded out? He sighed and regained his composure.

— "How do I even start... just, how? You barely even know him." — Sigma looked frustrated, but I kind of understood why; he worries about me.

— "Well, you know it all started with dreams, right?" — Sigma nodded.

— "So, I really like how he is. Oh, AND HE FLIRTED WITH ME JUST NOW!" — He raised an eyebrow.

— "You just totally missed the point. You’re talking like he’s the same person from your dream. Maybe they look similar, but they’re still different." — I sighed heavily. Is everyone at this point telling me the exact same thing?

— "I know he’s different, but he understands me. I feel different when I’m around him. It’s like we were meant to be together!" — Sigma looked around and stared at me like he was saying, "Are you serious?"

— "I think you should get to know him better before saying you’re in love with him." — He crossed his arms.

— "I know... you’re right. I will get to know him better!" — I pushed him playfully and smirked, but he pushed me back, smiling.

— "Fine, I’ll believe you. I just don’t want to see you crying over a guy. Don’t forget the time you cried for three hours straight because your favorite painting broke. I can’t imagine how you’d cry over a broken heart." — Sigma was harsh. I gasped, clearly offended.

— "You’re so mean! Don’t remind me or I’ll cry again!" — I said in a mocking tone.

— "You can stop now. Let’s go change clothes. Our next show is soon." — He coughed and started leaving without waiting for me.

— "But Dostoy is in my room... ugh, fine, whatever." — I walked away. Sigma was so mean sometimes, but now that I was alone, I had time to think about my feelings. It’s been so long since I felt this way, but was this really love? I feel like it’s mutual. I don’t feel like I’m the only one confused. I can bet my life that Dostoy is just as confused as I am. I looked at the floor while I walked, feeling lost. Why did time seem to pass slower when I wasn’t around him? Dostoy and his friend weren’t around my room anymore. Maybe some staff had led them to the exit or maybe they left by themselves. But that’s okay, I’ll just change clothes and leave. Still, my mind can’t help but think of him. Was he thinking about me too?

— "Fedya..." — I entered my room and closed the door behind me. I looked toward that book, Crime and Punishment. I grabbed it and looked at it carefully. I remember Fyodor saying this book was the first one he ever wrote. Was that why some pages were missing? There was no reason to think too much about it, but I still wondered what those pages contained. I put the book aside and started changing clothes. I couldn’t shake the feeling that the book disturbed me, even though I told myself it was pointless to investigate. I finished changing and decided to take a walk. Maybe I’d find Dostoy! No, wait, am I being intense?

Knock... knock... knock.

— "Nikolai? Are you ready? The show is about to start." — Sigma was right; I had to hurry. At least I was done.

— "Oh, yes, wait for me!" — I said as I opened the door. Sigma was waiting by it, staring at me for a few seconds.

— "Let’s go now." — Sigma was in a hurry, but I had none. He took my hand and almost forced me to run, but I was tired and didn’t want to do the show. I just wanted to think about cuddling the guy I liked all day long. But sadly, it was my work. Was it childish to think about escaping this place and running away with someone I barely knew? Sounds like something a teenager would do, but I’m already grown up.

— "What’s up with you now? You look depressed." — I didn’t notice Sigma was looking at me. Was it that obvious I was lost in thought? I smiled at him.

— "Nothing really! I was nervous about the show, that’s all." — It could sound like a lie, but it was true. I was nervous about failing my tricks while Dostoy was watching. What would he think? The first time he saw my trick, I couldn’t even finish because I was so nervous.

— "Is that so?" — He raised an eyebrow. I nodded. We arrived backstage. Mushitarō Oguri, our magician, was doing his show. He makes things disappear; no one knows how since he refuses to reveal the trick. Next up was Sigma, who does artistic gymnastics. He is elegant and delicate. A couple of minutes passed, Mushitarō finished his show, left the stage, and walked past us without even looking our way. Mushitarō wasn’t a friendly person at all; my impression was that he didn’t have many friends. Sigma looked at me and sighed.

— "It’s my turn, see you later." — Sigma waved goodbye and walked toward the main stage. I usually watched his show, but this time, I didn’t know why I wasn’t watching. Instead of looking at Sigma, I was scanning the audience, searching for Dostoy. There he was, looking so nonchalant. Was he bored? I hoped not. Maybe the music was too loud.

— "I need to see him." — I sighed. Minutes passed like years. I wanted Sigma’s show to end sooner. Was I being a bad friend? I bet it’s true. My selfish thoughts could ruin our friendship. I just wanted it to be my turn so I could see Dostoy again. I didn’t care about anyone else. The music stopped, signaling it was my turn. I peeked at the stage and saw Sigma leaving. But I wasn’t ready. I had so much time to prepare. I took a deep breath and walked onto the stage in small jumps, a wide smile on my face, trying to hide my nervousness.

— "Well, well, well, well, well! How’s my favorite audience doing?! Did y’all miss me?!" — The crowd was full of kids and their parents. Some kids I’d seen before, but my eyes were locked on Fyodor, who was also looking at me. I blushed slightly.

— "I need someone to be my little silly guest! Raise your hand!" — Lots of kids screamed and raised their hands. Fyodor didn’t raise his this time. I was a little disappointed but still picked a random kid.

— "Eeny, meeny, miny, moe, YOU!" — I pointed at a kid with black and white hair. Their eyes were different too. They looked so happy to be chosen, while the other kids whined in disappointment. The kid came up to the stage and looked at me directly.

— "Hi little one! What’s your name?" — I asked with a wide smile.

— "Yumeno..." — The kid giggled. What was so funny?

— "What’s your favorite animal?" — I pulled a balloon out of my pocket.

— "Animal? Can you make a doll? Like this one!" — They showed me their doll. It was a weird-looking doll, but I forced a smile.

— "No animal?" — I tried to continue the show, but the kid made a big sad face, like they were about to cry.

— "A doll it is!" — I exclaimed and started making a doll balloon. I had to force a smile, but the kid seemed so happy.

— "Here you go! Now go with your parents, little one." — I gave them the balloon and playfully pushed them back into the audience.

— "Now... who wants to see a really hard juggling trick?!" — The crowd screamed, so I took that as a “EVERYONE WANTS!”

— "I’ll need an assistant, SIIIGMAAAAA!" — I called out to Sigma, waiting for him to bring everything I needed. Sigma came with juggling balls and tossed them into the air for me to catch one on top of the other. I started juggling, and Sigma added one ball every five minutes. I tried looking at the audience again—a horrible mistake. When I looked at Dostoy, he wasn’t amused, which made me think he was bored. All the balls fell to the ground. Everyone went silent. I didn’t know what to do. I was too stunned to move. Sigma was shocked too. Why did this happen? All because he wasn’t smiling. What is wrong with me?

— "Well now, we’re going for the hardest trick of them all!" — Sigma shouted, pushing me a bit. I took a deep breath and forced a big smile.

— "I can’t do it."

Chapter 9: I love you

— What am I doing? What am I even thinking? My head is pounding, my vision’s dizzy—I couldn’t face the audience. It had been years since my last panic attack during a performance. Sigma started pushing me.

— “Nikolai, you don’t have to do it. You can rest. I’ll apologize to the crowd.” — Sigma tried to calm me down, but Fyodor was watching. I couldn’t let him see me like this. I was scared to face him, scared of what he might think.

— “Apologies, my dearest viewers! May the show continue—don’t leave yet!” — I screamed almost blindly. Screw it, I’ll do my show.

— “Give me the knives, my assistant!” — Sigma looked at me, still worried, but nodded and threw a knife at me. I caught it, then he started tossing the rest. I began juggling knives, trying not to get hurt. The kids screamed with excitement, but I felt my own fear—the fear of failure. This trick was hard, but I’d done it many times before. So why was I scared?

I told myself not to look at Fedya in the crowd, but I did anyway. He wasn’t smiling—he looked worried. Why? Watching him made me lose focus, and one of the knives cut my hand.

— “Agh!” — I gasped, a small moan of pain escaping me.

— “Nikolai!” — Sigma yelled, staring at my bleeding hand.

— “Shit! We’ll be back soon with our next show. Do you want to see acrobatics? Then wait for the next one! We’ll have a short break—you can buy popcorn, drinks, cotton candy! We also sell toys~” — Sigma tried to calm the crowd, then hurried me backstage.

— “God, Nikolai, I told you not to do that trick! When will you listen?!” — I was bleeding, and I only groaned in response. It wasn’t like I wanted to talk.

— “Where’s Fyodor?” — I asked, my face pleading.

— “Why does that even matter? We need to find a medkit.” — Sigma dragged me toward the nurse’s room. But I was terrified of the nurse.

— “Sigma, you know I don’t like the nurse... I want to see Fyodor!” — I cried, still hurting badly.

— “Is Fyodor gonna heal your wound? No. It’s just a little cut—Yosano will take care of you.” — He frowned at my resistance but sighed.

— “Fine, I’ll look for Fyodor. You stay with Yosano for now.” — It was better than nothing. Sigma left, and I knocked on the door. Footsteps approached. I jumped as the door suddenly opened.

— “Well, well, well, isn’t this Mykola? It’s been so long...” — She smiled warmly. I smiled back awkwardly and waved.

— “Yeah...”

— “Let me see your hand, little one.” — Little one? I sighed and showed her the wound. She looked thoughtful.

— “You’re bleeding. Come in.” — Stating the obvious stressed me out, but I stepped in and sat on the bed.

— “How did this happen?” — Yosano started cleaning my wound. It hurt a lot; I hissed softly, even though she was careful.

— “I failed my trick...” — I gasped through the pain. She hummed with a small smile and finished cleaning. The bleeding stopped, but the pain lingered when I moved my hand.

— “Everyone says that. Failing tricks is normal in this circus. I don’t mind; it gives me work.” — She giggled. What was so funny? I should be the one laughing at everyone!

— “Haha, so funny,” — I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. She laughed but was less gentle, making me groan in pain.

— “That hurts!” — I yelled. She smiled.

— “That’s your punishment for laughing at me. I’m the one treating your wound—show some respect.” — That’s why I hated coming here; she wasn’t fun to tease!

— “AGHH, FINE! I’M SORRY, STOP! STOP!” — She finally eased up on my injury. I sighed in relief, but she looked satisfied. My breathing was heavy.

— “That’s a good boy.” — I frowned. Suddenly, someone knocked and opened the door.

— “Am I interrupting something?” — It was Fyodor. My eyes lit up with happiness. I wasn’t alone with nurse Yosano anymore!

— “Not at all, dear. May I ask who you are?” — Yosano looked like she found a new person to tease. I wasn’t happy about that.

— “Fyodor Dostoyevsky, a pleasure.” — He was always so polite. His voice meant everything to me. I swallowed nervously, trying to hide my excitement just because I saw him.

— “We have a patient here. Are you visiting?” — Yosano smiled at him, and he calmly smiled back. I was the only one not smiling.

— “Yes, I’m here to visit Nikolai.” — Now I had a reason to smile. I was happy.

— “Awesome! I’m going for coffee. You can take care of Nikolai. I bet you two are close, so you won’t have any problems, right?” — She waved goodbye and nudged Fyodor into the room.

— “Oh... yes, yes, I’ll take care of it.” — Fyodor walked to me and sat down. I was nervous. Yosano noticed and smiled cheekily. That was scary. Eventually, she left, leaving just Fyodor and me.

— “Can I see your hand?” — His face was worried. I parted my lips and nodded shyly. Why did I act like this around him? I gave him my hand. It was clean and no longer bleeding.

— “Is it bad?” — Fyodor smiled at me.

— “I’ve seen worse, Nikolai. What happened?” — I knew he’d ask eventually.

— “I got nervous. I saw people weren’t smiling, and I overthought.” — I wasn’t going to admit that he was the reason—his absent smile. He seemed lost in thought, like he didn’t quite get it.

— “I’m sorry I wasn’t smiling either, but I really liked your show. Even if you failed and got hurt.” — He sighed, looking guilty. I didn’t want him to feel that way. He understood me so quickly, like he always did—reading me like an open book.

— “It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault, silly!” — I smiled and leaned my head on his shoulder, resting. My heart pounded, but he didn’t seem to mind. I took that as a good sign.

— “I know.” — He smiled and gently played with my hair. My cheeks flushed. I was like a dog wagging its tail.

— “Do you have a fever?” — I touched my cheeks; they were hot.

— “No, not really. I’m just happy.” — I tried to smile, but it was clumsy. He looked confused but seemed to understand.

— “I see. I’m happy too.” — My eyes widened. I didn’t expect that.

— “What do you mean?”

— “I think I understand you better.” — So that’s what he meant.

— I gulped. I wanted to say it—to say I loved him—but he’d probably reject me. My thoughts overwhelmed me. I wanted him so badly.

— “I think I love you even better.” — He looked at me silently. His face unreadable. I wanted to die from embarrassment.

— “I think... no... I don’t know yet, I’m sorry.” — He looked slightly shy, but compared to me, he was calm.

— “It’s... it’s okay.” — I honestly wanted to cry. If he wasn’t sure, why did he call me cute? Why did he let me rest on his shoulder? Why did he keep making me feel like I had a chance—only to reject me every time? What’s the point?

— “Ivan is waiting for me. I have to go. Please rest and take care of your wound. I’ll try to visit soon, but... I have to work.” — I was so disappointed, I almost forgot he had a job. But it was fine. I was fine. It’s not like I felt heartbroken or anything.

— “That’s fine. I’ll take care of myself. Please... visit me soon. You could maybe come over and sleep here.” — I tried to convince him to stay longer. He sighed and smiled at me. I must have looked pathetic—pathetic for someone who wasn’t even sure if he loved me.

— “I think it could be a possibility, yes.” — He added as he stood and walked to the door.

— “I wish to see you soon.” — Fyodor waved goodbye.

— “Yeah, I wish to see you soon too...” — I felt so down after he left, alone again.

— “Why do I feel like this...? I want to dream again. Dream about him loving me.”

Chapter 10: We always had time…

I couldn't sleep that day. Ever since then, I felt like I was dying. I barely ate. Fyodor wasn’t visiting soon. I was depressed from being heartbroken. It wasn’t even that I got rejected. I knew Fyodor wasn’t ready, but I still confessed again. This time, I didn’t even call him Fedya. Looking at my paintings made me realize how badly I had fallen for him, how much I craved his touch, his essence, his very self. I just wanted him to be the person I had dreamed of. I wanted him to kiss me and tell me he loved me. I just wanted to be loved. I cried every day, thinking of how I wanted him to stay, but he never came back. I know he had work to do, but why? Not even a letter, a message, a call... nothing. Did he even care about me?

I looked at my hand, the injury I had caused myself because I got nervous. But when I saw it, it just reminded me of his expression—how stupid I had been.

— “What am I even doing? Why am I crying over someone who doesn’t love me?” I asked myself, clenching my fist. Even though it made me feel so much pain, I felt stupid. I just wanted to dream, but those dreams only made me feel like I was living in a cruel reality.

— “What are you thinking about, dear?” A strangely familiar voice asked. It sounded just like Fyodor’s. Was it him? He was at my door, smiling at me.

— “Fyodor? What are you doing here?” I asked, clearly confused. He grabbed my hand and kissed it, making me shiver. I gasped, letting out a small groan. Strangely, I didn’t feel any pain in my hand.

— “Answer my question,” he demanded. I honestly felt a little excited by the way he was commanding me.

— “Thinking about... you,” I whispered. He seemed satisfied with my answer.

— “Perfect. I like it when you think about me.” I gulped, feeling a fever rise in my cheeks.

— “I always think about you, Fedya...”

— “I often think about you too. I feel like we were meant to be.” Fyodor’s smile turned into something more devilish, making me shiver.

— “Do you really think so?” I asked shyly. He simply held me tight and nodded, but his touch felt like nothing—like I wasn’t even being held. In the blink of an eye, he was gone.

— “Fedya? ...Fedya?” I called out to the air, but no one was there. I felt so stupid. I was just someone who was down bad for someone.

Days passed, and Fyodor didn’t visit. I barely ate, and I had eyebags from the lack of sleep. Sigma was worried about me, but I always pushed him away. I didn’t know why. I was doing horribly. I walked past my paintings, looking at him. It was painful, like a small pain in my heart. I wanted him to come back. I missed him like he was everything. I didn’t know when my obsession had started. I was in my room, feeling miserable. I didn’t attend any shows because of my wound. I was doing nothing all day long. I felt like a depressed teenager.

— “Nikolai, are you here?” Someone asked while knocking at my door. From the voice, it was probably Sigma.

— “Oh, yeah, I’m here!” I tried to smile at nothing, pretending everything was fine.

— “Fyodor is here to visit!” My heartbeat stopped in excitement. I almost fell off my bed while desperately trying to reach the door. But when I opened it, only Sigma was there.

— “Nikolai, we need to talk. You can’t just avoid me and stay locked in your room all day. It’s been four days straight!” Sigma hurried to grab my hand, expecting me to be happy about him lying to me?

— “Why... would you lie to me like that?” My voice started to break. I was so confused, but I felt pain in my heart. I was actually so excited to see Fyodor.

— “Nikolai, I’m sorry, but I’m really worried about you. Have you seen yourself in the mirror? You don’t look healthy.” I stood there silently. I didn’t want to talk about it. He looked so sad, but how would he understand? He wasn’t him. Only Fyodor could understand me. I remembered how he had looked into my soul. I felt naked when I was with him.

— “It’s okay, Sigma. I just need more time alone. My hand really hurts.” I actually wanted to say, “My heart really hurts.”

— “...Okay then, rest.” Sigma hugged me. I hugged back, but I didn’t feel anything. I felt so empty without him.

— “Yes! I’ll rest,” I giggled, trying to act normal. He sighed, still unconvinced.

— “Well, goodbye…” He wasn’t convinced, I knew it from his expression. He waved goodbye and left. But now that he wasn’t here, I regretted not being honest.

Another day passed, feeling alone. I hadn’t eaten all day, just lying in bed staring at the ceiling, thinking about how miserable I was.

Knock… knock.

— “Who is it?” I asked. It had been a while since anyone had knocked.

— “Can I come in?” That voice...

— “Y-Yeah! Go ahead,” I screamed by accident. I was nervous.

— “Thank you, greetings, Nikolai.” It was Fyodor. I parted my lips, feeling amazed just to see him after so long, even though it had only been five days.

— “You told me you were going to visit me soon…” I walked toward him and hugged him tightly. He smiled awkwardly. What was he thinking? I wondered.

— “I did what I could, Nikolai. If I may ask... why do you look like this? Have you taken care of yourself?” His tone was calm, but his eyes showed worry.

— “You took so much time to come back.” I didn’t know what I was thinking. Why had I said that? He pushed me aside from the hug, looking at me seriously.

— “I told you I did what I could. Are you blaming me?” My heart was pounding in my chest. I wanted to cry, but I clenched my fist.

— “I didn’t mean that. I depend on you! I can’t take care of myself when you’re not around! Why would you leave for so long?” I cried out. I didn’t know why I started screaming. He looked really uncomfortable.

— “I did what I could, Nikolai. You need to calm down.”

— “Calm down? Calm down? Really? Wow.”

— “Nikolai, you’re not helping me.”

— “Help you about what, huh?!”

— “Loving you.” We stood in silence, looking at each other. I felt devastated.

— “Leave.”

— “What?”

— “I said leave, Fyodor. Get out of here!” I screamed, tears in my eyes. He didn’t understand how I felt. I always thought he understood my feelings, but that was just a false reality in my head.

— “Nikolai, we can talk it out.”

— “LEAVE!” Fyodor stood silent, looking at the floor with a hint of sadness in his eyes. I felt guilty, regretting my words, but he started walking toward the door, waving goodbye without saying a single word.

— “Wait... no…” I gasped, but he had already left. Tears couldn’t stop falling from my eyes. What was I doing? Why am I like this? I hate myself so much. I’ll never be free from these feelings. Where is my freedom?

That night, I couldn’t sleep because of the guilt. I felt so much pain in my head. Was it pain from overthinking? I wanted to see Fyodor again and apologize for my reaction.

— “Why do you feel that way?” I heard a voice again. It was Fyodor, at my door.

— “I… I feel guilty,” I rasped out. He seemed to worry about me.

— “Guilty? Of what exactly?” he asked, walking toward me. I sat on my bed, knowing I wouldn’t sleep tonight… again.

— “I couldn’t express my feelings correctly. You understand, right?” I think he saw the sadness in my eyes.

— “I understand. Why don’t you paint your feelings? I can pose for you.” I parted my lips. That idea was great. Fedya always understood.

— “That would be great. Let’s go to my paint studio.” He nodded and walked with me. I was still in my pajamas, and the cold air made me shiver. But at that moment, I didn’t care. Eventually, we arrived, and Fyodor sat, waiting for me to paint. I made strokes with my brush, trying to replicate his body perfectly.

— “Mhm, I think it looks odd. Why don’t you use a more reddish color?” Fyodor suggested. I hummed in agreement.

— “I don’t have that color.”

— “I don’t think you’re painting your feelings, love.”

— “What do you mean?” I asked, my eyes wide. He looked amused.

— “Why don’t you paint your anger, your frustration, your… love?”

His words made me remember all the times I’d been rejected, how frustrated I was, how I felt like I was a toy for him. The urge to destroy the canvas overwhelmed me. I wanted to kill Fyodor for making me feel this way.

— “Now I like your expression, my love.” He said as I began to paint with anger. My brushstrokes were aggressive. The painting looked like chaos.

— “You know what it’s missing? That reddish color.”

I didn’t want to smile, but he was right.

— “I’ll help you a bit.” Fyodor took a knife in his hand and walked toward me.

— “Give me your arm.”

I gave in. He started cutting my arm. The pain was unbearable, and I moaned in disgust. Blood fell like a river.

— “Agh… hah… hah… Fedya… it hurts…” I gasped.

— “Shh, now you have the color. Start painting, or you’ll need more blood.” His smile was evil, but I obeyed. I started painting with my blood. It hurt so much, but I felt like I deserved this. Maybe I didn’t deserve to be loved at all. Why… why would anyone love someone like me?

I started stabbing myself, hoping the pain would fade. Fyodor wasn’t smiling anymore. He looked at me like I was pathetic.

— “You… never loved me, did you?” I asked with tears in my eyes, as I began to faint. I was losing so much blood, and I hadn’t finished my art piece. What a pity...

— “Mhm.” That was the last thing I heard—a hum. I closed my eyes, wanting to never wake up again in such a cruel reality. I wished I could live in my dreams, where I could feel loved—even if it was a lie. If it was nothing, it would still be everything to me.

— In the morning, people woke up sooner than usual, because something was smelling differently, the first one to wake up was Mushitaro, he followed the smell and it came from the art room.

— " Isn't that Nikolai's studio?. " - Mushitaro asked to himself, he peeked and saw Nikolai's body lying in the floor, all covered in blood, and that painting... was a new Fedya painting, but it was made with... blood?!, Mushitaro screamed for help, people started to freak out from the noise, Sigma hurried up to see what was going on.

— " Mushitaro? why are you screaming?, what happened?. " - Sigma asked, clearly confused.
— " Nikolai... ugh, just... go see the art studio, I don't want to talk about this, oh god... " - Mushitaro left, he didn't wanted to deal with this, Sigma ran to the art studio, scared of what he was about to see, when he saw the scene, he wanted to puke.

— " Nikolai... oh god... " - Sigma started crying as he wanted to see if he was still okay, but people grabbed him, not letting him get closer to the body.
— " Sigma, stop! you're going to mess up the body! let's wait for the police!. " - Someone yelled, but Sigma was desesperate.

— " You don't understand anything! Nikolai... Nikolai was my only friend... "

— A week passed by, Fyodor was at his office, working at his newest book, when someone knocked at the door.

— " Who is it? " - Fyodor asked.
— " I-Ivan... "
— " You can come in. " - He continued with his work, he never minded Ivan walking into his office.
— " Thank you... " - Ivan walked in, but he looked more worried than usual, so he raised an eyebrow and looked at him.
— " Did something happen?. "
— " Actually, yes, I have news you might not like, but... that circus you like.. well, closed recently... " - He didn't wanted to face Fyodor.
— " What do you mean? " - Fyodor started to worry.
— " I think... someone died. "
— " What. "
— " That's what I heard... "
— " Oh god dammit, I need to go see Nikolai. " - Fyodor instantly left his work, even with Ivan screaming that his work needed to be done soon, but Fyodor ignored it.

" Fyodor's pov "

— I felt my heart pounding like I was having a heart attack, I needed to be sure Nikolai was alright, what even happened when I wasn't around?, I can't stop thinking that Nikolai could be... no.. I can't think that, he's alright, I'm sure.

— " Sorry, the circus is closed. " - Someone told me at the entrance.
— " I want to see Nikolai. " - I said in a pleading tone, but they only sighned, making me worry.
— " Nikolai... isn't here with us, not anymore, his friends are still in shock. " - I stood silent, I couldn't describe my shocked expression, what did they mean? was.. Nikolai, dead?, is.. is my fault isn't it.
— " Oh, okay... Thank you. " - I clumsily said, trying not to tear up in front of someone I don't know, I walked away thinking about everything, is it my fault? I really tried to talk it out, I always wanted to be comprensive, but he didn't wait for me, If I could knew about my feelings sooner, this would have never happened, he would be with me, alive, a week ago he was resting in my shoulder, and now, I had no one, I wish I never overthinked about him, never doubting him, but it's too late now.

We had time to think about how we felt, we always had time.

— Fyodor Mijalovích Dostoyevsky.

Chapter 11: A lover’s alternative ending.

How could some argument end someone's life?, well, we all have feelings, sometimes we can't control them, words are like knifes, they can stab you anytime, if you love someone, you should care about what words you use, don't you?.

— " I said leave, Fyodor, get out of here! " - The lover screamed.
— " Nikolai, we can talk it out!. " - The indecisive said, trying to calm down the situation.

— The indecisive lover wasn't sure about loving someone, they don't often feel something so pure like loving, unlike the lover, who even if they didn't have any experience with this kind of feeling, they keep trying to make it work, even if they get frustrated easily, their form of loving is explosive, while the indecisive lover was more calm, and wanted their own time, wanting things to go with flow.

— " What do we even talk about, you play with my feelings! " - The lover seemed hurt.
— " Of course I don't do that, I'm serious about my feelings. " - The indecisive tried to hold the lover, but he was hesitating, the lover didn't want false feelings.
— " Then, why do you let me take advances in my love so then you reject me an I love you?. " - The lover started to let go.
— " I'm just indecisive, but I want to understand you more, even if sometimes I don't do it correctly... I'm interested in knowing you better. " - Oh?, what's happening?.
— " Just... stop playing with me, stop leaving me... you know I need you. " - Is this...
— " I'll try, I still think... I'm starting to know better. " - ...
— " Will you love me?. " - This is new, this wasn't supposed to be like that.
— " I think so, Nikolai. " - This has to be wrong, the indecisive shouldn't be saying this.
— " T-Then, I'll try to wait for you... I want to be loved. " - The lover is being comprensive and the indecisive... doesn't seem so indecisive anymore, is he... no, it can't be.
— " You can be loved, Nikolai, don't be silly. " - Is he, a lover?.

 

Eventually, the indecisive wasn't indecisive, they knew now they wanted their love, turning himself into someone who does know they love someone, a new lover... what a surprise.

— " Loved... I feel loved. " - The first lover, was Nikolai.
— " You are loved, I love you. " - The indecisive, who is now a lover, was Fyodor.

— " I love you. " - Nikolai said, remembering those times he got rejected, but fyodor hold his hand and smiled at him.

— " I love you too. "

Chapter 12: What if..

Summary:

Feeling silly

“Nikolai, we can talk this out.”

“LEAVE!” Fyodor stood silent, his eyes cast to the floor, sadness flickering in them. Nikolai felt guilt and regret for his words. Fyodor started toward the door, but his heart ached. He looked back and saw Nikolai—trembling and scared. Why would he leave him alone like this, especially now?

“Nikolai.” Fyodor rasped. Nikolai’s hands shook, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at him, his gaze fixed anywhere but on Fyodor.

“I told you to leave. Why aren’t you listening to me?!” he screamed, hyperventilating. Fyodor’s eyes widened in shock, unsure what to do. He swallowed and stepped closer, making Nikolai yelp in fear.

“Stay away from me!” Nikolai stepped back, his entire body trembling. Fyodor moved in and hugged him tightly. Desperately, Nikolai tried to push him away—he bit Fyodor harshly on the shoulder. Fyodor groaned in pain.

“Nikolai, try to calm down. I’m not going anywhere unless you’re calm.” Fyodor rasped, wincing from the bite. Nikolai’s tears began, his breathing shaky. His strength failed him and he finally let go, crying into Fyodor’s embrace.

“I only make things worse, don’t I?” he sobbed, hands trembling as he tried to hug Fyodor back. In his broken heart, he believed Fyodor wouldn’t return the hug after all he’d done.

“It’s okay. Are you feeling any better?” Fyodor asked, his own hands trembling. Nikolai’s breathing was still ragged as tears streamed down his cheeks.

“I’m not… of course I’m not.” He couldn’t stop crying and clung tighter to Fyodor, not wanting him to leave—he never wanted that in the first place.

“Breathe in… breathe out. I’m not going anywhere, okay?” It was hard for Nikolai to stop hyperventilating, but he tried. He exhaled slowly, feeling a little better. Fyodor noticed he was still shaking, and gently caressed his cheek.

“I still think we can talk this out—only if you’re ready. I’ll wait for you.” Nikolai swallowed and nodded. They held each other in silence for about ten minutes, just clinging, as Nikolai gradually calmed.

After a while, Nikolai looked down shyly. “Dostoy…”

“Mhm? Feeling better?” Fyodor asked, gazing at him.

Nikolai blinked back tears. Fyodor noticed and hugged him tighter.

“What happened?” he whispered, concerned.

“I don’t deserve any of this… any of what you’re doing.” Before Fyodor could respond, Nikolai continued, his voice shaky: “How can I expect you to love me after… all this? I was cruel—I screamed at you, I bit you. Why would you love someone like me? Just thinking about it makes me dizzy.” Fyodor’s clothes were soaked with tears now. He sighed, realizing he might be unfair—comparing Nikolai to someone who never existed, doing exactly what he hated.

“That’s not it. At all.” He attempted a smile, but Nikolai didn’t notice. Fyodor gently played with Nikolai’s braid. “I’m just insecure. I never meant to toy with your feelings…”

Nikolai remained silent. “We had such strange dreams… they confused fantasy with reality. I’m not Fedya, and you know that. And you’re not that insane clown who stabbed me.”

Fyodor coughed softly, trying to shift the mood. “Crazy clown that stabbed you?”

“I’m not talking about him. What I mean is—I want to know the real you, not the one from my dreams. I want to know you, with your real feelings. And I want you to know me—not Fedya.” Nikolai’s expression softened. He looked at Fyodor and realized he wasn’t seeing “Fedya” anymore—just Fyodor, his Dostoy.

“You look beautiful when you smile, you know that?” Fyodor teased. Nikolai squirmed in joy, hugging him tightly, trying to suppress a smile he couldn’t hide. His cheeks flushed.

“Oh…~ Dostoy…” he giggled.

“Then I’m okay with getting to know you better. You’re right… you’re not Fedya. And I’m sure Fedya wouldn’t’ve cared about me like you do… you're so much better!” Nikolai looked up at Fyodor, smiling broadly.

“If you tell me about yourself, maybe I can understand you better.”
Nikolai thought: Understand me?

“Mmh… maybe.” He bit Fyodor’s shoulder again—but gently this time.

“Having another panic attack?” Fyodor asked, worried.

“You’re no fun, Dostoy—I just like biting!” Nikolai teased, pushing back and giving him a playful look. Fyodor noticed and sat beside him on the bed.

“You know, after all this… I think we know each other pretty well.” Nikolai said, playfully.

“Is that your way of trying to speed things up?” Fyodor smiled. Nikolai gasped and crossed his arms as if offended.

“No—yes, yes it was.” He confessed quickly. Fyodor chuckled.

“Have you ever kissed anyone?” Fyodor asked with an eyebrow raised.

“Kissed someone…” Nikolai paused, recalling he’d once kissed Fyodor in his sleep—but of course he wasn’t admitting that. “Nope. Never. Ever.” He smiled widely. “And you…?”

“Me neither.” Fyodor shrugged.

Nikolai’s eyes widened—he stole Fyodor’s first kiss and didn’t even know!

“Oh—what a surprise! I thought someone as handsome as you would’ve kissed a thousand women!” he joked.

“I didn’t.” Nikolai replied, amused despite the awkwardness.

“Why the question? Mr. Ratman wants to kiss me?” Nikolai teased, moving closer. Fyodor looked away, blushing—Nikolai noticed and gasped.

“Wait… you do?”

“Maybe.” Nikolai giggled and leaned in.

“Well… you can.” Fyodor looked back, blushing too, playful but nervous. He smiled and caressed Nikolai’s cheek.

“C’mon, Dostoy… don’t toy with me.” Nikolai grew anxious. “Please… just kiss me already.” He pleaded, sounding vulnerable. Fyodor hummed softly and obliged, pressing his lips gently to Nikolai’s. Nikolai closed his eyes, unsure what to do—this was his first awake kiss. He wrapped his arms around Fyodor’s neck, pulling him closer. They leaned back slightly, breaths mingling.

“ Y’know Dostoy, you should use lip balm more often—your lips are so dry. No offense…” Nikolai teased, trying to make Fyodor kiss him again. Fyodor looked confused.

“Wait, really? I didn’t notice.” Nikolai sighed, his plan thwarted—still, he leaned forward and kissed him again. Fyodor’s eyes widened in surprise. They pressed lips until there was a knock at the door.

Knock… knock… knock…
“Is someone there? Nikolai?” That voice—Sigma. Fyodor's eyes went wide. Nikolai swallowed and kissed Fyodor again, silencing the other before he could speak.

“Weird—no answer… maybe he isn’t here. I’ll check somewhere else.” The voice faded. Nikolai released Fyodor; both were breathing hard.

“You’re very intense, Nikolai.” Fyodor breathed, coughing slightly.

“That was intense… for you? No tongues even.” Nikolai grinned.

“That is… intense for my first ever kisses.” Fyodor sighed.

“You’re such a baby sometimes, Dostoy.” Nikolai giggled and kissed his cheek.

“I’m not.” Fyodor rasped, suddenly lightheaded—was he still sick?

“Do you think you know me a bit better now?” Nikolai leaned in, resting on Fyodor’s shoulder—but he recoiled slightly from the wetness. Ew… tears.

“ Oh, I should change clothes…”

“But I don’t want you to leave… why can’t you just live with me already?” Nikolai pouted.

“Too fast—and I’m not comfortable living in a circus.”
“Then I’ll go live with you!” Nikolai shouted, desperate for him to stay. Fyodor looked flabbergasted, but remained calm.

“Nikolai, dear…” Nikolai’s gaze was pleading.
“We have time. No need to rush.” Nikolai nodded, though unsure.

“ I love you.” Nikolai tried to rest on Fyodor’s shoulder despite the wetness. Fyodor was silent for a moment.

“I love you too.” Nikolai looked stunned… then smiled widely.

“Maybe talking it out wasn’t so bad…” Nikolai added.

“But I’m worried about your health… what if you have a panic attack and I’m not there?” Nikolai’s smile faded.

“It’s okay. I’ll work on it. I won’t hurt you again.” He reached for Fyodor’s hand.

“ I don’t mind being hurt—as long as it helps you calm down.” Nikolai nodded.

“Okay…”
“Nikolai, I have to go now. Wash your face—your makeup is ruined.” Nikolai wanted to beg him to stay, but nodded.

“Alright. I’ll clean up and then look for Sigma. Please visit me soon—or just call.” Fyodor smiled.

“Sure. I’ll try my best. I’m going to miss you.” Nikolai smiled back. Fyodor leaned in for a kiss; they lingered there for a while, then pulled away, both looking sad.

“ Goodbye, Nikolai.”

“Bye-bye…” Fyodor left the room. Alone again, Nikolai felt empty—but knew things had to change. He sighed and stared at himself in the mirror—makeup ruined.

“I’ll try my best.”

 

Months passed.

— Fyodor was working in his office. Nikolai was sitting on Fyodor's bed, looking bored. Ivan tried to entertain him sometimes, but it was never enough, so he always ended up leaving. Eventually, Nikolai stood up and walked over to Fyodor, peeking at his work.

— "Hey, Dostoooy~ what are you dooooing?"
— "I'm working, you know that."
— "Geez, aren't you bored of writing?" he teased, leaning closer to kiss Fyodor’s cheek.
— "Kolya, I need to finish this in three days. This isn’t the time." Nikolai looked displeased.
— "I'm your boyfriend, pay attention to me!" he pleaded.
— " I might just kill myself if you don't give me attention! " He crossed his arms, but then realized his words had gone too far when Fyodor fell silent.
— "I– I didn’t mean—"
— "Kolya."
— "Y-Yeah?"
— Fyodor turned to him, sadness in his eyes.
— "Please don’t ever say that, even as a joke. I don’t want you to die. If you do, I want it to be at an old age— and with me."

Fyodor’s sadness struck Nikolai deeply. He moved in for an awkward hug, which Fyodor accepted.

— "Honestly, I thought about it before… when we first argued. I wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for you," Nikolai admitted, his words breaking Fyodor, who sighed.
— "I’m so glad I didn’t leave."
— "And I’m glad you didn’t," Nikolai replied.

— "I love you, Kolya."
— "Love you too, Dostoy."

Notes:

I posted this also on Wattpad by the same name, Sorry i didn't post it here before I was at the hospital brah😭