Chapter Text
February fourteenth. The rain pittered loudly outside, hitting the cracked concrete with a soft thud. The sky was a dark grey, a fitting environment outside the Decay of Angel’s hideout. Ryuunosuke Akutugawa was the newest member, and Fyodor’s subordinate. He’d left the Port Mafia only a few months before, as Fyodor seemed to take a liking to him, taking him under his wing.
There’d been a fair amount of tension between Fyodor and him, raising the brows of other members. Akutagawa would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t developed feelings for Fyodor as well.
–
Akutagawa sat at his desk, restless. His leg bouncing as he chewed at his nails. He was ordered to file some of Fyodor’s important paperwork, but his mind couldn’t stop racing. Aku tried his hardest to focus, to no avail, filing the papers with shaky hands.
“Ryuunosuke,” Fyodor called out flatly, snapping Akutagawa out of his daze. “Are you nearly finished? I have plenty more tasks for you, дорогой.” Akutagawa nodded eagerly, his body tensing up at the endearment. “Yes, Dostoyevsky. I should be finished quite soon.”
He couldn’t help but feel all the nerves in his body quiver around Fyodor. He’d been planning to ask him out later that night, desperate for a connection with the handsome Russian, and what better a time than now? Akutagawa knew it was risky, he could lose it all if this went wrong, but he couldn’t help himself.
–
Later that night, Akutagawa walked out of the hideout with a lump in his throat, hands clenched at his side. His mind loudly raced, too preoccupied to notice a certain white haired man following behind. Nikolai creeped up towards his side, glancing over Aku’s shoulder.
“What’s got you so tense, Ryuu?” He teased, voice sharp as a knife. Akutagawa sucked a sharp breath in through his nose, “None of your business, Gogol,” he murmured bluntly through gritted teeth. “Hmmm, if you insist,” Nikolai giggled, smirking wickedly. Akutagawa could only pray that Nikolai was the only one to notice his predicament, and that he wouldn’t scurry off to alert the others.
Akutagawa went to pick up some gifts. Dark purple roses, the shade of Fyodor's eyes, and a box of luxurious chocolates. Fyodor had quite the sweet tooth, and Akutagawa couldn’t afford to make a fool of himself by buying some bland sweets for his beloved. Only the best would suffice. Swallowing hard, Akutagawa made his way to Fyodor’s hotel room, hands clutched at his sides.