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“alright,”
fuckinnefors tired eyes flick up as he hears the door open, spotting the blonde boy with a colorful stack of crumpled rubles in his hand.
“you did a good job,” he straightens out the banknotes, “seems like it at least, or maybe he didnt know hed have that much fun.” he snorts, arranging the paper in his hand.
fuckinnefor blinks, clearing his blurry vision. he was dizzy - his body feeling as light as a feather yet simultaneously as heavy as stone. the boy standing on the other side of the room looked incredibly vivid against a twitchy, faded out background. he knew the room like the back of his hand, but the walls and floors melted together in an indistinguishable endless mess that spoke to him. small whispers that would increase in volume if he gave it the time, people who stood over him - unable to tell if they were creations from his mind or another man artyom had let into the room.
its quiet as artyom counts the money. the only sound fuckinnefor can hear is men laughing outside of the room, popping bottle caps and playing loud music, as well as the static and soft whispers his brain created.
“jesus, nikita,” his name is as foreign as any other word, he doesnt pay attention “y’know, i was being sarcastic, but he gave me two hundred - maybe you really did do a good job.” he pulls out a metal money clip, folding the paper and tucking it away.
fuckinnefor says nothing. he turns on his side to face the wall, breath stuttering at the pain in his abdomen “im taking a nap.” he stated flatly.
the blonde narrows his eyes, biting on his black lip rings. he wants to make some kind of comment, but he refrains “fine, but only thirty minutes, hear me? theres more work to do.”
he brushed his bangs out of the way and turned, “you better hope i can keep them happy for that long.”, closing the door behind him.
fuckinnefor finally closes his eyes and lets out a sigh. he wraps his arms around himself and pulls his legs up a little to keep warm in the cold room. the mini heaters were on, but only on the lowest setting as to not be too loud for the other people. they werent for his comfort anyway, leaving him to shiver as he lay half undressed.
fresh bruises stain his arms and legs, sides and stomach, neck and shoulders, but all he can do is ignore the aching pain. his muscles were sore and he was exhausted, but thered be no way hed be able to fall asleep. he couldnt fall asleep in an hour, let alone before thirty minutes, unless he had something to ease his restless mind. this time though, hed been given an upper, not a downer, so he was stuck like this until however long it took to wear off.
-
Fuckinefor stands outside the apartment complex, hand stuffed into his pocket. his bulky frame casts shadows along the snowy pavement from a dim light up above.
he hears the heavy metal door creak open behind him, unbothered to glance back.
shortly, the blonde boy is standing next to him, shivering and complaining about the cold.
“fuck, alright,” he huffed, blowing out smoke from a cigarette he was smoking “i counted everything out.”
fuckinnefor is quick to interrupt, voice heavy with exhaustion “evenly?”
artyom glanced up, pausing, then replied “evenly,” he looks back down, swallowing hard “heres your share.”
fuckinnefor is handed a wad of cash, straightening them out and counting them as best as he could. his eyesight was blurry and his hands were shaking, nor was he very good at adding.
“thats it?” he asks skeptically, raising a brow from beneath his sunglasses.
artyom sighed dramatically “thats the best i can give you,” he shoves his hand into his pocket “look, take this, okay? it makes up for some of it.” he hands him a small plastic baggy that contains a fine white powder he was far too familiar with.
he forces it into his hand, i should rather say.
fuckinnefor shivers at the plastic touching his overly sensitive skin “i dont want this,” he looks down at it, then back at him “you know i dont use this.”
not willingly. he didnt use it willingly. when he needed a fix hes rather find it elsewhere with pills or tabs or weed - he didnt like coke, or meth, or heroin, but those were three things he kept running into. artyom was obsessed with keeping him hooked on harder drugs. for what reason, he didnt know, nor did he want to know.
“its all i have right now, just take it,” artyom hissed, shoving something back into his pocket “stop bitching at me - i dont want anyone to see that i have this.”
they were completely alone, but he guessed all of the things he did in his free time were starting to catch up to him and make him paranoid.
fuckinnefor reluctantly puts it into the pocket of his hoodie “im not using this.”
the other rolls his eyes “stop being a fuckin’ pussy. its either you get that or nothing, your choice,” he makes a small tsk sound, shaking his head “we both know what its gonna be. youre a goddamn junkie. dont act like youre above it.”
fuckinnefor says nothing. he just shifts his weight, putting out his cigarette.
it wasnt his fault. if life had given him a better set of cards, maybe he wouldnt be stuck needing something.
“look, im going out this weekend,” artyom breaks the silence, looking straight ahead and relaxing his shoulders “you can come if you want. ill be at the bar down by - god, you know where,” yet another jab at his persistent need to self medicate “ill just be there with a few friends. you need to get out more.”
the bigger boy looks off, admiring the snow drifting and falling peacefully “maybe. if im not busy.”
“busy? busy with what?,” artyom scoffed, offended “whatever. forget i even offered.”
its quiet again. fuckinnefor knows better than to engage in his childish nonsense.
the other breaks it again “well? are you going home or what?”
he simply shrugs, earning an eyeroll.
“what, is your daddy stopping you from going home again? its like youre homeless, nikita.”
fuckinnefors eyes narrow behind his sunglasses. he hated that name, hated when hed say it, hated when anyone said it to him.
“do you need to stay here again or what?”
he didnt mind the idea of sleeping in an actual apartment without fear of his father, but he being unconscious around artyom was incredibly stupid too.
“its fine. ill figure it out.”
“good - i have shit to do anyway. all those guys wrecked my place,” he brushed his blonde hair out of his face, turning away “ill see you this weekend. ill know youll be there!” he calls back as he makes it to the door, going inside and letting the conversation end.
fuckinnefor sighed, dropping his shoulders and pushing his sunglasses up. whyd he wear these anyway? it was the middle of the night.
he stands there for longer than he anticipated, contemplating where he should go. here wasnt an option, home wasnt an option either.
maybe he could risk his luck back at home, but he didnt have the energy for that right now.
he figured hed walk around until a better idea came to his head. that was the best he could do with his current situation.
it was nice out anyway - or as nice as it could get for irkutsk. the snow created a serene atmosphere among the tall concrete buildings and orange streetlights. it felt good to be alone like this.
he breathes in the cold air, burning his lungs in the process. it wasnt nearly as good, but if he could get home he could fix that.