Chapter Text
"You shouldn't stay here Feliks," Lovina warned. "I think he's catching on," she said, letting out a side only endangered friends of the beautiful brunette saw. A softer side of worry. Feliks wore a smile. He then gave her a reassuring phrase he was so sure at the time was true. Begrudgingly, she listened to him and let herself be escorted out of the building.
"Don't worry, I'll be alright,” as well as, "I can take care of myself, you know that.”
If only those words still rang true to his situation.
He had a packed bag with his essentials hiding under his bed. He made to leave anything they could use to track him on his dresser and out of his bag. His bag had only his passport, ID, cash, and a few important memorabilia from home he had always kept near.
Having finished just enough chores for his absence to be ignored for a few hours, the blond calmly walked down the hall to his room. Except he was anything but calm. Calm was an illusion he struggled to display as to avoid attracting suspicion. With a sense of determination that drowned out fear he carried on down the hallway, fingertips brushing his long maid uniform.
Originally, it was something Ivan had chosen for his uniform to be degrading, after all Feliks had to request to be accepted into the Russian mafia. Unluckily for Ivan, Feliks was fond of women’s clothing. Being rivals for so long, Ivan used the change to keep Feliks under his thumb. It was an easy accomplishment, as his sole reason for joining was to protect his childhood friends Toris, Ravis and Eduard. Even if they didn’t think they needed it. Despite being a selfish person, he was also protective. He was content just to make sure the ones he grew up with were safe.
Or so he had been.
Feliks rushed to his room, praying that he wouldn't be caught before leaving. His footsteps hastened as he walked down the hall. Please be in like, your office or something... he mentally wished. It was as if what had been a minute's walk was now tortuously slow. As hope lit his eyes, his room at the end of the long hall finally within his grasp, fear filled him, for suddenly his arm was within another's grasp. The blond turned to meet another pair of green eyes, yet they were much softer than his own. He knew he would miss those kind eyes.
"What is it, Toris?" he asked, adapting a tone of surprise and boredom. It was a necessary skill for his situation after all.
"You seem a bit off, Feliks, you okay?" the light brunet asked in a worried tone. Right. Toris was a friend that could read him well. Feliks carefully held to a bored expression and nodded.
"Of course. I'm totally fine Tori, what's up?" he changed the focus point. A light crossed the other's eyes as he remembered his purpose.
"They need a servant to bring drinks to Mr. Ivan's meeting, I'm not allowed to since I'm not really one..." he responded. Panic flashed through jade eyes.
"Can you like, ask Cynd to do it or someone else? I left something in my room but I'm in the middle of chores and stuff." Toris accepted the answer with ease, even apologizing for getting in the way. Feliks laughed it off, calling his friend a dork before sending him off.
Taking a deep breath, he walked into his room before shutting and locking the door behind him. It was only a quick wardrobe change into a pair of black pants, a soft pink shirt, and a pair of running shoes, before sliding his bag of necessities over his shoulder.
Now, it was time for the real hard part.
Proud of his physical abilities, he took a sprinting start and jumped to catch hold of the window ledge. He carefully maneuvered the window open before he could slip through it. It was a room Ivan had given to him as a cruel joke, trying to rub lack of freedom into his face by trying to put the window far out of reach. It was funny how things changed.
Next he just had to get past the wall that surrounded the building. It was too smooth and much too tall to climb, he made his way over to the one place he could escape, the sunflower garden.
Swiftly he hid in the flowers, navigating his way to the back wall. Never had Feliks had such hatred for a type of flower. He had nothing against the flower itself, however, it was whom they reminded him of. Once freedom was within sight he gave into his whim as he ran full speed before jumping, catching the ledge of the lower wall. It was the lowest part of the wall, necessary for Ivan's flowers to get sunlight. The small hands tightly grasped the ledge and pulled himself up.
Despite anything most seemed to believe, he knew he was strong. It took someone strong to keep coming back no matter how many times he was beaten down. He quickly slid and jumped off the wall and made a run for it.
His dangerous freedom was just within grasp. That's when he stopped in his tracks. Remembering exactly what he was doing, he glanced back to the wall.
He could get Toris killed for this! But, it was already too late for him to turn back. He knew he wouldn't be so lucky as to not get caught on his way back. There he stood, frozen in thought.
Before he was only thinking of himself, last night when he saw Ivan he knew there was a punishment coming for him today. Ivan found out something and was livid, however, Ivan had a special type of anger. He didn't lash out. No, it was much worse. He thought through how he would torture who he was angry with before taking them and breaking them. Maybe to some, he was a nice guy.
Not here.
Here, he was a dictator who ruled with an iron fist that killed anything that took a wrong step.
Feliks clenched his fists, reminding himself that he would be the one Ivan would seek out before running. He had arranged for someone to pick him up as of last night, the night he knew he needed to escape. Luckily for him, the one who helped him become a spy was more than willing to take him away from Ivan.
"Oi~ Pinky," A voice called out, capturing the pole's attention. Quickly his head whipped around to find a familiar face with a smirk plastered across. Feliks' eyes widened in surprise. The man walked towards the blond, amused by his reaction. Chuckling, he spoke again, "What? You look like you weren't expecting me," he said teasingly.
"Shut up," the green eyed man replied, letting out a sigh. "I just wasn't like expecting you to be here yet," he said as the tall man approached him, his red eyes glimmered.
"Oh? But yet you came, funny," he teased, grabbing the Pole's wrist, roughly pulling him into a helicopter. "As much as I enjoy taking something from the communist bastard, I do have a schedule," he finished, already starting the helicopter.
"Of course, Al," he replied to the leader of the American mafia. "Just....thanks..." he said softly, taking a seat as the brunet began to fly the contraption. It was plainly colored, much to the pole’s distaste, but that was after all how they usually made the insides of helicopters. Black, gray, with a little bit of white. The black seats were, however, luxuriously comfortable.
"What good would I be if I didn't keep my old lackeys safe?" he responded simply. "There is a safe place you're going to be, it's with a person Ivan won't expect because, well you don't have any connections or even know him." That meant...
Feliks was going to live with a stranger.
A STRANGER.
Something he was absolutely horrible at was speaking to strangers. In all honesty, they freaked him out. How was he going to cope with living with a stranger?
"Nononono. Al, I thought you said I could hang at your headquarters," he pleaded. Sure, the red eyed American was an asshole extraordinaire, but an asshole was still better than a stranger in Feliks’ book any day.
"I said I would find a safe place for you. I know you hate strangers but you can deal with this one. He's not exactly nice, but he isn't fond of making enemies either. Give him a chance," Al encouraged. Knowing there was no way out, he simply nodded. "You know, you never really explained what happened," Al began. "All you told me was that you needed out fast. Care to explain?" The blond paused, standing up to sit in the seat next to him.
"I can explain," he replied, "But I'm not sure where to start," Feliks stated.
"Doesn't matter, just start with what made you know last night that you had to get out, you can go wherever the hell you want from there okay?" he offered. The Pole nodded and paused to explain.
"Last night Ivan smiled, not his usual just whatever smile, it was his ‘I'm getting revenge’ smile," he said. "He gave me that 'you're in deep shit' look before telling me to sleep well,"
"So?" Al replied, still not seeing the point. "What happened to 'kicking his ass'?"
"Are you like stupid or something?" The blond bristled, defiant and annoyed green eyes attacked. "I could totally kick Braginski's ass, the thing is, I'd be fighting him and like a bunch of his lackeys, plus Toris could get in trouble. Just get me somewhere safe, okay?" he said, trying not to let himself get riled up.
The rest of the helicopter ride to only Al knew where, Feliks was silent. The brunet tried several attempts to start up a conversation, however Feliks just wasn't interested. He was worried. Had they noticed he was gone yet? Did everyone know that Toris had nothing to do with it?
These were the thoughts that clouded his mind until a strong hand shook his shoulder and he looked up. "We're here," Al answered, handing him some keys. "He isn't home right now, but you can take the chance to make yourself at home in his guest room. You'll be staying with Matt Williams, my brother."
"Okay," he replied before nodding, relieved that he wouldn't have to be stuck with a stranger right away. He at least would have a bit of a chance to adjust. Standing up, he took the keys and his small bag. "Thanks Al," he said before exiting the helicopter and wandering into the house.
Feliks glanced around the house. It wasn't particularly small; it was actually a fairly large house especially for one person to live in. There was the kitchen with a table, the living room, two bedrooms, a large bathroom and an office. It wasn't hard for Feliks to decipher which was going to be the room he was staying in. The other already had a filled closet and the look of an inhabited room. It wasn't particularly messy, but it wasn't completely clean.
Feliks didn't go through the room though, instead he went into the guest room and put down his bag. He didn't really have any clothes he could change into or things like that to put up. He simply set down his bag, flopping down onto the red comforter and shut his eyes. Something told him this "safe place" wouldn't be an easy place to adjust to.
Calm and quiet, not even a few creaky floor boards were to be found. It didn’t seem to be an older home... it looked to be modern and to be built much more soundly than the older homes he had been in. Feliks didn’t even notice chipped paint on the outside of the house. It felt strangely... empty. Did Al’s brother have guests over often? Or was he usually alone in the house? Thinking about it, Feliks wouldn’t like living here alone.
Sure. Strangers were... terrifying, to say the least. But he had become used to living among others, spending the day with a friend or just working. No matter what though, there was always someone else within ten feet of him since he had joined the Ban mafia. This would be something else he had to adjust to.
Suddenly the blond was pulled from his thoughts, hearing what he assumed to be the arrival of his host. Here is where most would leave the guest room to greet whomever it was housing them. Unless your name was Feliks Lukasiewicz and you were deathly afraid of strangers. Then, like the green eyed man, you would most likely try to stay inside of the room. He stood up from the bed slowly and moved towards the wooden doorway, the door to the guest room was still open. He used it to listen.
Matt was it? Williams I think, he thought to himself, trying to remember what Al had told him before. Guessing by the sound by his footsteps, he was probably tall. Did he maybe look like Al? Whomever it was, they turned on the television to what sounded like a sports channel. Feliks decided to peek out of the guest room, taking a step too loud apparently because a voice called out.
“I’m not stupid, I know you’re there Al,” it called out, distinctly male. Feliks assumed that it must have been Al’s brother. It took but a second for him to put on his mask as he strode down the hall, adapting to have confidant, calm body language.
He advanced down the hall to see, a tall man lying across the couch who was cursing at the television. He had long blond hair, much longer than Feliks’s and it was pulled back into a loose ponytail. On top of his head laid a pair of sunglasses that previously hid his purple eyes. This was his brother? He didn’t really have many similarities to Al. His height was almost it.
Even the darkness in his eyes was different. His deep purple eyes reflected a calm sarcastic nature and the way his brows shifted with his gaze gave off a subtle warning. Don’t mess with me. Feliks liked the strong will he expressed. He was different from Al. Al’s crimson eyes reflected his bloodlust, they only confirmed the amusement he took in physically and emotionally pulling his opponents apart. As Feliks’s mind wandered the man watched, looking over and taking in his strange appearance.
“Really Al? Another stupid disguise?” he asked, giving Feliks a look. Feliks felt like shrinking back on the inside, however he let out a huff and folded his arms, looking back at the stranger with a strong willed gaze.
“That’s not my name, you’re my host right? You should totally know my name already,” he struck back, now receiving a look that agreed with his next phrase.
“Bullshit, I know it’s you Al. You were bragging about your disguise abilities earlier, remember?” The question only confused and annoyed the pole. Al hadn’t even told his brother he was sending someone over to his house?! Really Al?!
“I’m Feliks Lukasiewicz. Al sent me here but I’m not him. Seriously, do you think Al would wear something this fab?” he countered, hoping that might sway the other’s belief. He was just sent an amused look.
“You’re really into this one, aren’t you?” With that question, Feliks let out a huff in reply. He had forced himself to greet the stranger who had turned out to be a jerk. Deciding that he refused to be brushed off, he shoved the other’s long legs off the couch and sat in the newly freed space.
“I’m Feliks, someone who has more of a sense of who is who and fashion than you,” he shot back, “Not like that’s saying much though.” It was the irony of his personality and body language, Feliks could be nervous or scared on the inside but outwardly he only became bolder. Matt, although annoyed with someone disturbing the peace of his home, brushed it off as Al trying to irritate him. Matt wasn’t about to give Al what he wanted. He simply redirected his attention to the hockey game.
“Idiots!” He shouted at the screen, annoyed with the players, “You’re a fucking team, it means work together!” Although his efforts were practically useless, he continued to lecture the screen. The new comer rolled his dark green eyes, irrationality and irritation winning over the logic of attempting to get along with whomever owned the home with his next statement.
“Aren’t you the idiot?” he asked boldly. “You’re yelling at the screen and it won’t do any good. Maybe if you were actually at the game or something but they can’t even hear you.” Irritated but used to Al mocking both him and hockey, Matt wanted to get back at him but wasn’t in the mood for a brawl. Then, he would miss the rest of the game. Fucking vegan, he mentally cursed, grabbing a glass of milk from the side table.
“Hey ‘Feliks’?” he began, grabbing the other’s attention. The shorter blond finally turned to look to him, a bit happy on the inside that he thought Matt had finally realized that no, he wasn’t Al. Feliks however wasn’t lucky enough for this to be true.
It would soon be clear just how wrong he was.