Mysterious Stranger

Valentin was not completely sure of the correctness of his decision to trust Slava. But still, he understood somewhere in the depths of himself that Makarov was not a bad or fake insincere person. Just the opposite. Plus, he realized for himself that he really needed at least one close friend in the department who could provide support. Even in love terms, because our romantic was head over heels in love. And since Makarov had already guessed everything, there was nothing to hide. Plus, he was close to Marat, which was an ideal chance to get to know his object of adoration better. Shirokov weighed the pros and cons and realized that he had made the right decision. Slava himself mentally analyzed the psychology of his new friend and understood why he had such distrust. However, he wasn’t offended. But he was resolute in his actions and plans. — So, Valentine, have you finished decorating here? — Slava asked, watching how carefully Valya decorated, especially after Marat praised him. — Huh? Yes, yes, almost. I’ll decorate it here.… — Val, it’s already decorated, wake up, — Makarov grinned, shaking his head, — You’ve already lost your head from falling in love and Marat’s praise, haven’t you? — Almost…. — Valya sighed dreamily, — But what are you talking about? We’re not meant to be together. — What makes you so sure of that? — Slava watched as Shirokov wandered around the department, doing something, — Why not? You don’t know for sure. — Slava, don’t you understand? You’ve probably known Marat for a long time, but it’s literally my second day. And then in one fucking day I managed to fuck up in front of him a few times! — So what? It’s not a reason to give up on yourself and your future relationship. — What makes you think there could be any? —Tsk-tsk… Valya-Valya… — Slava sighed softly, getting up from his seat and walking up to Valya, putting his hands on his shoulders, — All the troubles come from your insecurity. — I… — Shirokov sighed, shaking his head, — I understand. That’s really my problem. In my insecurity. — Well, since I’ve told you about my past, why don’t you tell me about yours? — Well, listen up, then. It was in Moscow…

Memory:

Moscow. The Central Moscow Police Department. Valentin rose to the rank of lieutenant. However, his team was not the friendliest. Especially the pathologist with the speaking surname of Groznov. Peter Groznov. That was his name. He outwardly menacing and frightening, and his voice was creepy, as if he had once been a former maniac. At least that’s the impression he gave himself. And on that ill-fated day, Valya had the chance to go to his morgue to find out more about the man’s corpse. Peter had a dislike for Valentin from day one, even though he tried not to show it in front of other colleagues. Especially after Valya accidentally broke an expensive drug, Peter refused to let Shirokov into the morgue at first. But since they needed to work together, Groznov had to reduce his ardor. But he did not reduce his dislike and even hatred of Valentin. Shirokov entered the morgue he hated, knocked on Groznov’s office and waited until he was allowed to enter, only then did he enter. Peter shot Valya a hateful look, and then continued to work on the documentation. Valya came closer to him, putting a medical mask on his face, as the smell of formalin hit him right on the nose. Groznov grinned, knowing how much Valya hated the smell and it made him sick. — Well, what have you come for, Shirokov? — I came to find out information about the corpse, Groznov, — Shirokov frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Peter approached him, took his hand and led him out of the office into the room where the covered corpse was located. As soon as they arrived, Groznov immediately approached the corpse with Shirokov and abruptly opened it. Valya turned pale before he realized what had happened and immediately turned away. — What the hell?! — Shirokov swore, coughing, — And why the fuck does he stink so much?! — It’s a corpse, did you think it would smell like flowers? — Groznov said mockingly, twirling a scalpel in his hand, — By the way, this one is not the smelliest yet. — Asshole… — growled Valya, — I’m trying to communicate with you in a human way, and you’re not trying at all! — I don’t give a fuck what you’re trying to do. What can I say? Well, a male corpse with a severed hand, I’m sorry, there’s no way I’m going to sew it back on, at least until they find his severed hand. Death occurred as a result of suffocation with a plastic bag. By the way, Shirokov, — the arrogant pathologist looked at the lieutenant with a grin, — This corpse looks very much like you. — What…? — Valya turned to the corpse and something made him look at it. — The same color of the hair. His eyes were also blue when he was alive. The facial features are slightly similar. Do you know how much I enjoyed performing the autopsy, imagining that it was you? Mmm… I’ve never experienced such a high before. And by the way, he has a small penis. I don’t know what yours is, but it’s probably the same. He’s like your twin~ Valya stared at the corpse in silence, finding terrible similarities between him and himself. A certain fear paralyzed Shirokov. He staggered, began to lose consciousness, and eventually fell to the floor. Peter just grinned impudently, after which he called one of his colleagues to his office by phone. — Hey, Fyodor, come here, I have a living corpse lying on the floor, which is afraid of a real dead corpse. Yeah, that’s the one. With the surname Shirokov. It looks like this disgrace has a phobia for corpses. Well, I have nothing to do with it, haha. I just gave him the information he wanted. Well, come and bring him to his senses, I’m not going to do it, I still have my hands full. Yeah, come on, I’m waiting. Why don’t I want to? Firstly, I don’t have time, and secondly, I have a wild desire to perform an autopsy on him while he still exists his miserable life. But I just don’t want to take a sin on my soul.

Later…

— Ugh, it’s a disgrace, — one of the policemen snorted, sitting in the department with the others, in a common room, — Shirokov, did you really faint in front of a corpse? What did you forget in the police back then? — I don’t have a phobia! That bastard did something! — Valentine said through gritted teeth, pointing to Peter, who was sitting among the others. — Me? I just gave you information, Valentine. And then you fainted yourself~ — You bastard… The colonel entered the room with a menacing look and looked angrily at Valya. — You’re a disgrace, Shirokov. I’ve already been informed about your fainting fit. In general, it will happen again and you will be kicked out of the department and I don’t give a fuck where you go next. At least get become the hooker! Everyone in the department laughed at how Valya was humiliated. He just frowned, clenched his hands into fists and left the common room to cool off and not see their damn faces.

End of memory.

Makarov sat in mute shock, realizing the information Valentine had given him. He looked at him sympathetically, putting his hand on his shoulder, giving it a little squeeze. — I think I can understand you in terms of humiliation from your superiors themselves, — Slava sighed softly, squeezing his shoulder encouragingly. Shirokov shushed him sharply, because it was still his sore shoulder, which he had hit at the moment when Yurkov threw him into the wall. — Oh, oh, oh!!! Sorry! — Uh-huh… I’m fine, — Valya hissed softly, removing his hand from his shoulder, — You didn’t know. — Yurkov hit you like that, didn’t he? I don’t like him. — No one likes him here, but for some reason they keep him here! He probably pisses me off even more than that fucking pathologist from Moscow! — Well, well… I’m sure Marat’s father will soon find a worthy replacement for him! — Or me. I can’t be completely sure that he’s really helping me out of the goodness of his heart… — Valya sighed, looking away, still reeling from an unpleasant memory from the past. One of the. — You shouldn’t think that, Val, Ravil Alexandrovich stands up for his people, — Slava assured him. — Since when did I belong to him? — Val, he feels people. And he chooses the non-random ones among the favorites, you know. — I don’t know… — Shirokov shrugged his shoulders, — I am certainly grateful to him for his help, but it is still difficult for me to trust anyone. — Well, you trusted Marat, didn’t you? But he’s a forensic expert that you should actually have a trigger on. But you don’t have one. Are you smart? ~ — Uh… probably? Okay, wait… He’s really a forensic expert.… And I was at his morgue.… I broke his shelf, ruined some drugs.… And he didn’t say a word… plus, he helped me come to my senses when I fainted.… Valya shifted his stunned gaze to Makarov. He grinned, nodding slightly, saying, yes, dude, you got the hint. Shirokov looked away, thinking about what had happened to him. — It’s working… — Ravil is not the only one who likes you. But also his son too~ — I’m not sure… if he liked me, he probably wouldn’t refuse my help.… — Valya, now listen to me. You need to show yourself as a confident male in front of him! — And how will I show it when I’m not like that at all! Even externally. You look like an alpha male in every way! — Nooo, stop it. Don’t even say that, — Slava shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. — Why? You’re like that… and I’m… — So, stop this for me! I’ll give you a bream now, if you don’t stop! — Bream? — It’s A Slap In The Face. And a kick in the ass to boot. — Yes, I got it, I’m not stupid! For what the hell? — For talking nonsense! I don’t fit the role of an alpha male at all, they’ve already piss me off! I am me. Just the way it is. I don’t want to be an alpha male! — Well, all the women are squealing with delight from you and are already calling themselves your wives until you know about it, — Valya grinned, propping his head on his hand, finally having a conversation with a new friend. He rolled his eyes, laughing bitterly. — Don’t you think I know? Yes, I know. It’s not just women who squeak like that.… — What?! — What? — Oh, my God… Well, that’s what I thought for some reason, — Shirokov said thoughtfully, looking somewhere to the side. Slava rolled his eyes, grinning. — Oh, yeah, yeah, of course. Well, anyway, did you fall in love with an older mature man, hmm? ~ — I’m aware, genius! — I’m not judging you — I’ve already figured that out, considering how much we’ve been talking about my crush. — But you stopped denying it! Victory! — Yeah, be happy now. Okay, I guess I’ll have to make a male of myself somehow. But I do not know how. — What’s so complicated about that? Become more confident in yourself, don’t get pinched. Straighten your back proudly. Well, in general… change yourself partially. And you can also try writing love letters, like a secret admirer to Marat. It’s a classic. Valentin thought about it and then an idea came to his mind. He turned a mysterious gaze on Slava, grinned and propped his head on his hand. — What was the name of the show, you hosted? The masked singer, right? — Uh-huh… are you going to dress up as some colorful chupacabra, change your voice and sing to him under the windows? — Makarov giggled uncontrollably at the end, imagining this sight. — Ha-ha-ha. It’s fucking funny, Makarov. No. I can’t sing. — Are you serious? — Yes. I can’t sing, this topic is enough. I can’t sing at all, my voice is not made for singing. — Fuck you, dude, I don’t believe it! Ha ha! — But in general, the idea of disguise… That’s a good idea~ And I’m not disguising myself as a colorful chupacabra, my friend.… I have a much better idea for my look. But for that, I’ll have to go back to my apartment. Well, removable, of course, but still. There are some of my things there. — You’re talking about your apartment with a certain tremor in your voice, — Makarov noted, following Valya’s reaction. He waved his hand. — Fuck you, you walking detector, — Shirokov got up from his seat, — Let’s go. They left the department and got into Valentine’s car, after which they set off towards a not very prosperous area of Gelendzhik, somewhere out of the way. This was exactly where Shirokov’s apartment was located. Slava stared intently out the car window, watching the not-so-impressive landscape, homeless people at garbage dumps, stray dogs, and occasional gopnik near old five-story buildings. — What a neighborhood… Couldn’t you have chosen a better place, Val?! — I took out what I had money for. — Here a fucking corpse will get scared, get up and run! — Ugh! Don’t talk about corpses, Slava! — Sorry-sorry! Not the best comparison.… — That’s for sure, — Valya exhaled softly, rubbing his eyes with his fingers. Shirokov got out of the car and headed towards his house. Slava followed him, looking around cautiously from time to time, keeping his hand next to the holster where the pistol was hidden. The area was really creepy. Soon they went up to the fifth and last floor by an old stone staircase, and Valya quickly opened the apartment with a key, first launched his friend Slava, then went in himself, looking around just in case, and locked the door behind him. He cautiously pressed the switch to check if the electricity was working. As it turned out, it works to his own happiness and luck. — Well, at least the electricity is working, — Valentin commented. Slava just raised an eyebrow. — Did the electricity not work before? — Makarov grinned, continuing to look around in someone else’s apartment, having managed to hit the doorjamb, — Holy shit! — Ouch… It hurts, I agree. But at least I’m not as big as you are. — How tall are you? — Meter eighty-six — Fuck you — What do you mean?! — Just trolling you. And yeah, let’s get back to the issue of electricity. Didn’t it work all over the house? It’s not just you, is it? — Mhm. Because of me alone — Got it. Well, I see you have medieval technology here, my friend. So-so. The wiring can easily burn out — Listen, don’t get smart with me there! Shirokov snorted, then went to his closet in the bedroom. Makarov followed him, curiously watching what he was doing. — What are you doing, Val? — Slava asked. Valentin himself pulled out a long black coat, a black scarf, black boots, and a black sweater from the closet to put on under the coat, in general, everything that was pulled out was black. — So… Exactly, — Valya muttered aloud and went to the bedside table, opening the drawer. He took out a black balaclava. — How did you get a balaclava besides all that… black clothes? — Everyone has their own dark past, Makarov. Including me, — Shirokov said mysteriously, looking somewhere to the side, holding a black balaclava in his hands, — And sometimes no one should know about it… even loved ones. For their own good. — Are you an ex-bandit? — Pfft… I’ve been everything. But still I’ve never been a stripper before, — Valentin grinned, putting a balaclava on his head, after which he put on everything else black that he took out of the closet. — Do you know who you look like? Zorro! That’s just like him. But there is also this long scarf that “flutters in the wind”! Ha ha! Funny. — It shouldn’t be funny, Vyacheslav. It must be… brutal and mysterious.… — So, what’s your next plan? Slava couldn’t help but stare at Valya’s mysterious outfit. — And then, my friend, Gennady’s pure improvisation. — What? — I decided to give my mysterious stranger the name Gennady. Well, I’m not going to be called Valentine, am I? — Why Gennady? — Slava grinned, crossing his arms over his chest. — Just out of stupidity — And you could have called yourself Kuzya — Kuzya, it’s you, the Scarecrow. And it doesn’t sound brutal. And I’m the brutal alpha male Gennady. — Well, did you come up with a surname for your Gennady? — Nope. I haven’t figured it out yet. — Well, at least say it at random. It should work. — Let’s hope so. I wonder if Muzychenko would have recognized me.… — Why him? Is he your neighbor or something? — Slava laughed a little, but after a glance from Valya, he fell silent, realizing that he seemed to have hit the nail on the head, — Seriously?! Are you kidding me?! — Well, go out and call apartment 36 and see for yourself. — Are you really not joking? Wait, does Yura live in Gelendzhik now? So that explains why there’s such a lull with his band… and, wait. Does he live here? Does he really live here? But why? He lived in St. Petersburg… — Slava, if you want to ask him yourself, but I still want to live. Your Yura promised to skin me for the electricity incident! — What? Yura? Come on, he’s kind. Do you really think he can skin someone alive? — If it’s not him, then it’s his dad for sure will do this. — Ooooooooo… exactly. Yuri Vasilyevich… He can. So, in fact, Yura can do it, maybe.… But what was he doing in such a terrible neighborhood? Why is he… And he didn’t tell me anything! That little asshole thought that if our paths supposedly parted after that show, did he think that was it? The end of everything? Fuck me, I’m not going to let this happen! He was obviously hiding something.… Even from me… well, since I’m a policeman now, I think I’ll find out what he’s hiding.… — Oh, my God. Slava, you’re talking like a stalker right now. — Nope. Like a policeman. Yura probably has some problems that he didn’t mention and it will come to light later.… Meanwhile, Valya had already changed into his standard clothes, and Gennady’s costume had put his suit in a large bag. — Let’s go already. A policeman, — Valya went to leave the apartment. Slava followed him. After that, they both got into Shirokov’s car. — Well, tell me the address, Slava, I’ll give you a ride home. — Embankment 13. — Repeat that? — Embankment 13. — So this is… the house next door to Marat’s house.… — Oh, so we’re neighbors, it turns out! Ha-ha! It’s funny! — Holy shit… and now I’m going to be hanging out in the hotel opposite your and Marat’s houses anyway. — Oh, really! Well, that’s cool, we’re all neighbors, hehe. Let’s go, Val! — Well, let’s go… Valentine finally arrived at his hotel room. And just as he wanted to lie down on the bed, he suddenly received a call from Igor Vasilyevich. — I’m listening to you, Igor Vasilyevich — Valya, I know you’re here right now. We need your help. Get out of your hotel and go up to the top floor of the building opposite, the first front door. Embankment 15. Apartment 25. — Very well, Igor Vasilyevich. I’m coming. Meanwhile, Marat was lying on the sofa in the living room and breathing heavily. — Why did you call him? — Marat asked softly, exhaling heavily, — I’ll handle everything on my own… — No, you can’t do it. Slava won’t be able to sit with you all night until the time when you need to be woken up so that you urgently drink water and take pills. But Valentine can, he’s free. Plus, he won’t fall asleep obviously. — I’m not sure… — Khaidarov doubted this decision, but he didn’t argue anymore, realizing that it was useless. Soon, Valentin arrived at Marat’s apartment, carefully closing the door behind him. — So, Valya, look, I’ll explain to you the situation of Marik’s health, — Biryukov began to tell how, how to act and how to help. —I understand you, Igor Vasilyevich, I’m not that far from medicine, — Shirokov replied, then walked over to Marat’s couch, looking at him. Khaidarov frowned slightly, rubbing his eyes. — I’m going to cook Marik’s dinner, and you keep an eye on him! If he starts to lose consciousness, don’t yell in panic, but give him some ammonia and open the window. Understood? — I got it, I got it, I got it — That’s it, I’m going to the kitchen! Valentin watched Biryukov go, took a chair and sat down next to Marat. While he was sitting, he remembered his realistic dream about Marat. Marat lay silently on the sofa and looked at Valya. Then he followed his gaze as he got up and went to the window, looking out at the street with a thoughtful look. Khaidarov was lying motionless, but he was looking steadily at Valya until he noticed it. Shirokov himself was thinking about his dream, realizing that it would not be like there. It was hardly possible. A dream is just a dream. Suddenly Valya turned around, hearing Marat get up from the sofa and go somewhere. — Marat Ravilevich, where are you going? — Here I am, here… Where am I going to disappear to in my apartment? — Marat went into the kitchen, following with his eyes how Igor was cooking in it. Biryukov turned around, hearing a rustle behind him. — Marat, what is this? Why are you up? You’re not feeling well. And anyway, dinner’s not ready yet, go back to the couch. Or to bed. — But I just came to the kitchen now.… — Marik, you feel bad. Why you can’t sit in the same room with Valya? He won’t eat you, he’s afraid of you. I’d say he’s afraid of everyone. He’s kind of scared. — Actually, I can hear everything! — Shirokov grumbled from the living room. — Yes, I can see that he’s afraid, — Marat chuckled softly, looking over his shoulder at Valya, leaning against the kitchen doorway while Valya stood behind in the living room. — Not at all! — Val, why are you such a pussy? I don’t think we’ve eaten you yet. — How scary I am, everyone is afraid of me, I’m such a cannibalistic pathologist, yes, I perform autopsies on people while they are alive and screaming for help, — Khaidarov said quietly, heading to his room, hugging his shoulders, — I’m such a creepy monster. Booo… Oddly enough, it was quite a joking tone, not even grumbling or indignation. Although his face was stony. — What would you know… I have a completely different opinion! And thoughts! And… — Wait a minute! I don’t understand you right now, — Igor came up to Valya from behind, holding a ladle in his hand, — What are you thinking about Marat? What kind of thoughts? Shirokov slowly turned around, noticing the major’s menacing appearance, and quickly retreated after Marat into the room. — Where are you going? — Well, personally, at the moment I thought I was going to get hit with a ladle! — But I can! — He can, — Marat confirmed, grinning. — I don’t think anything bad about Marat Ravilyevich! It’s the opposite, honestly! — Valya was trying to be more confident in order to get out of his awkward position. — Well, watch what you say! Otherwise I’ll beat you with a ladle! — I don’t advise angering him, Valentin, he’s already beaten me up with this ladle once. — Mgm! A little slap in the butt as a joke — Thank you that it wasn’t a meat mallet. — Fie on you, Marik, silly. But naughty Marats sometimes have to be lightly knocked on the buns. — I deny it, — Khaidarov said, crossing his arms over his chest, sitting on his bed, talking at a distance from the room to the kitchen. At the same moment Biryukov came in with a ladle, smiling. Valya let out a quiet laugh, at least the atmosphere was quite peaceful and funny. — You’re having fun here, — Shirokov grinned, leaning his shoulder against the wall, before cautiously looking to see if there was anything there that could be broken or dropped. — You know, it’s more fun than ever outside of work, Valentin, — Marat confirmed, looking at Valya and the space around him, discovering that he was standing in a safe place for everyone, including himself, where nothing would fall or break. — Yeah, I noticed — Marat, you know what will happen if you don’t eat, — Biryukov “threateningly” pointed the ladle in his direction. — Just try it, — Marat took the tinsel. — Hehe hehe, what are you going to do about it? I have a ladle! Then Marat wrapped this tinsel around a barbecue skewer, which he took from a drawer, and then directed it towards Igor, scaring him with one of the fencing techniques. — Oh, oh, oh! Okay, okay, I give up. You’ve Won — That’s it, Igor, — Khaidarov deftly turned the skewer in his hand. Valya stared at the sight in shock. — Wow… It’s fencing.… Marat looked in Valentine’s direction, waited a couple of seconds, and suddenly jokingly scared him with a light fencing move. Shirokov quickly jumped back, but stumbled and fell onto the sofa. Biryukov laughed at this scene. Marat himself turned the skewer in his hand again, following Valya’s soft landing, grinning. — Okay, stop messing around, — Khaidarov, not really aiming, threw the skewer into the drawer, hitting exactly the target. Valya was stunned by Marat’s unexpected playful attack on his side, but he was very impressed. — This is… It’s fucking awesome — Oh, the connoisseur, hehe! — Biryukov grinned, — What did you think? Marik is not a simpleton! — Well, Igor? Are you convident that the skewer is stronger? — I’m convinced, I’m convinced — So fuck off with your ladle from my skewer, — Marat grinned, crossing his arms over his chest, joking with Igor. Even though he still wasn’t feeling well, he suddenly had a playful mood for a moment. — Boo-boo-boo! He’s still stealing my phrases here! — Well, who are you going to mess with, as they say, — Khaidarov shrugged innocently, You’re contagious. — Well, that’s good! — Biryukov lightly patted Marat’s hair, he was not against such a gesture, — You suddenly have a playful mood. — In honor of the New Year, Igor. — Oh, yes, you rarely have such a cheerful mood, we know. By the way, Valya, I noticed that your phone is dead, — Igor said, glancing at the glowing screen of Valya’s phone on the bedside table, — Let’s charge the battery? — No! No way, for God’s sake! — Valya immediately panicked, jumping up from the sofa, because he had been lying down before, impressed by Marat’s dexterity, — I… better not, really Khaidarov looked thoughtfully at Valentin’s phone, critically assessing its condition: scratches on the case, it was still unclear what kind of model it was because he was looking from afar, but he saw what a crappy state the device was in. The screen is half cracked, the front camera is damaged, and the volume buttons seem to have been soaked in acid. After a mental assessment, he looked at Valya, mentally assessing him too. — Valya, if your phone is dead, let’s charge it. What’s your phone number? You can’t see him from here. Is it an iPhone or is it not an iPhone? What type of wire? — Yes, an iPhone… It’s old and it sucks. There is a charger, but it is very old, and I am afraid that the electricity will jam. — An iPhone, you say? — Well, yes… Khaidarov silently approached Shirokov and handed him the cable from his charger. — Thank you, — Valya said softly, feeling the presence of the man he was secretly in love with so close, and trying not to get nervous or show it. He carefully plugged the phone into the wall outlet, squeezing his eyes shut, expecting that, God forbid, the electricity would go out. But nothing happened. He slowly opened his eyes, looked around and looked at Igor and Marat, who were silently watching him. — Boo!! — Biryukov made a sharp sound that startled Valya. After that, Shirokov felt a light blow on the top of his head with a ladle — Well, what are you afraid of? Marik has excellent new wiring in the house, the electricity does not turn off even with old appliances, but he does not use them. — Ah… well, yes, I understand, — Valya smiled awkwardly, rubbing the top of his head. — And it’s better to throw this stuff away, it’s burned out, — Igor pointed to the old charging cord sticking out of Valya’s pocket. — Exactly. Throw it away. In my presence, — Khaidarov looked sternly at Valentin. Igor himself took the old cord from Valya and, going into the kitchen, threw it into the trash can. — Out of my sight, get out, you old wire! — But what about… — Valya was confused, how is he without charging now? There’s not enough money for a new one, especially not for an iPhone, even an old one. — We’ll buy you a new one! Don’t worry, — Igor patted the lieutenant encouragingly on the shoulder. — Yeah, I am… I think I’ll buy a new wire myself. — Val, at least you can live to see your first paycheck. Maybe I didn’t believe you right away, but I know Ravil trusts you. And Ravil hardly trusts anyone. To earn his trust, as well as Marat’s, is wow! Valya felt like a little schoolboy next to the principal, who comforted them both and said that his whole future was still ahead of him. At least, that’s what Shirokov thought. But he was certainly pleased that they began to trust him. Suddenly, something fell from behind Valya. — Something’s falling off you, — Igor laughed, — but it looks like you’re still young enough to have sand falling off you! — I’m sorry! I’ll clean it up myself! — Valya quickly and imperceptibly picked up the golden feathers that had fallen out of his hidden wings and hid them away from prying eyes. — You two silly, — Marat said good-naturedly, rolled his eyes and headed for the kitchen, playfully nudging Valya with his shoulder on the way. Shirokov couldn’t help but notice this gesture and, smiling slightly, looked towards the man who entered the kitchen. Such a gesture could be accidental, or it could be special. But, most likely, it was the second option. — Hey, who are you calling a fool, hmm? I’m going to hit you in the ass with a ladle right now! And by the way, dinner is ready, Val, come here, otherwise you’re skinny as a stick, you don’t eat anything, it’s obvious right away! There’s another skinny guy here! Valya did not expect an invitation to the table, but joined the dining table. It just so happened that he sat down opposite Marat. Igor was setting the table, and he served them all. — Bon apetit. Here, potatoes, meat with delicious gravy, a vegetable salad, a greenie. By the way, Val. What do you eat anyway? — Biryukov asked. Marat shifted his interested gaze to Shirokov. Valya himself felt awkward, seeing such a gorgeous dining table. — So… Any food, not mind — Fast food, huh? — Marat asked, propping his head on his hand, — Don’t forget that I remember what you took from the store. — Ahem… yeah… Khaidarov silently looked around the table, examining all the food that Biryukov had prepared, then sighed heavily. — Why did you put so much food in my plate, Igor… I can’t hold that much. And you know, I don’t like meat.… — Well, that’s why there’s a special menu for you, look, it’s just the way you like it. And anyway, you have a portion, like for a little bird, you don’t eat almost anything anyway! Come on, Marik, you need to gain weight, don’t forget. You’re underweight! Valya stared at his portion in surprise. A large portion — Igor Vasilyevich, I certainly won’t eat that much.… — Eat it. Valya immediately picked up a fork and began to eat, smiling innocently. — Marat, eat too, and don’t just look at your plate. I’ll get the ladle right now! Valya began again, and immediately received a light tap on the top of his head with a ladle. — Eat, I say. You work for the police. The forces are needed there, wow! How are you going to run after criminals without strength? Eat up! The order of the police major. — But I’m… — Stop talking! Eat up! Marik you too! You haven’t eaten enough! Just a little more — God… — sighed Marat heavily, but under persuasion he ate some more, — That’s it, I can’t eat anymore… — After that, he got up from the table and went to the bathroom. Valentin followed his gaze, but immediately received a stern look from Biryukov. — Valentine! Eat up! — Meow… — Don’t meow! Eat up! You’re a man! You are the protector! Eat up! — Why are you like my dad… — So, Marat, where did you go?! — I’m in the bathroom… — Are you sick? — Igor was worried about this. Valentine too, — Marik, please don’t be silent, if something is wrong, then tell me, okay? — Yes, well… — Soon Marat came out of the bathroom, rubbing his eyes tiredly, — Igor, your family is probably already waiting for you there when you get home… And the snowstorm starts outside… — Oh… yeah, you’re right. They’re waiting. Well, I’ll leave you with Valya then, okay? — All right… — Don’t be naughty, both of you. And, Val, keep an eye on Marik’s condition. — I’ve already studied everything that needs to be done in case THIS happens. — You’re cool… Okay, Marik. I went home before everything got stronger snowstorm. Valentin, put Marik to bed for the night, then you can go to your room. That’s it, I’m gone. Igor was escorted out. Marat went to his room. Valentin followed him, but did not enter the room itself, leaving him a private space. However, Shirokov immediately tensed up when he noticed Marat smoking an electronic cigarette. — You’re… you’re not allowed to smoke. — Excuse me? Why can’t I smoke? — Marat looked at him with a skeptical look, looking up from his phone while sitting on the bed, wrapped in a blanket. Shirokov came close enough to him, holding out his hand to him — Because you can’t, and it’s unhealthy. You may start coughing, it’s also bad for your heart, so… give me this smoker. Marat looked at him with a slightly indignant look, saying, “what are you commanding here, you little mouse?” Shirokov took the vape from him without waiting. His gaze was very serious at that moment. Marat was surprised by such a sharp attack from the seemingly modest tikhony. — I was told to keep an eye on you, Marat Ravilevich. Khaidarov raised a skeptical eyebrow at him, then stared at his phone. Some time passed and Marat fell asleep with the phone in his hands on the bed. Valya was sitting in an armchair all this time, after which he noticed Marat, who had fallen asleep. He took the phone out of his hands, put it on charge, covered Marat with a blanket, put a glass of water on for the night, set an alarm on both phones so that he could drink water and medicine at night. After that, he went to the exit, looked at Marat one last time, then left the apartment, closed the door behind him and went down the stairs, thinking about his own. Meanwhile, Valya was walking towards the hotel (about half an hour walk) Marat managed to wake up and move from the bed to the windowsill. He sometimes liked to sleep there more than on a bed, although such a dream was risky. During his journey, Valya suddenly felt Marat’s vape in his pocket, which he took from him and realized that he was in the middle of his journey. Either turn around and bring it back, so as not to be known as a thief, or go to the hotel. Shirokov decided to choose the first option and return to Marat’s apartment to return the item to its place. Returning to the apartment, Valya found that Marat was sleeping in a ball on the windowsill, wrapped in the same blanket. Shirokov sighed heavily, shaking his head and went up to him, looking at this sleeping lump. — “Really? You might fall…” — On the way to the window, Valya put the vape in a drawer, then he carefully picked Marat up in his arms to put him on the bed. However, he began to struggle in his sleep, but Valya managed to put him on the bed, remaining stunned by such abrupt behavior of Khaidarov in a dream, not expecting him to start fighting like that. Valya took it personally as a gesture of disbelief, even in his sleep. Is he disgusted by touching? Or what was it? Valya quickly retreated to the side of the chair, watching Marat’s hysterics in his sleep from there. He fidgeted and almost whined, tangled in the blanket. — I’m not touching you… sleep… “Okay, it looks like it’s better not to touch him, otherwise the hysteria button will activate…” Marat suddenly woke up and looked at Valya with a stern look. Shirokov was sitting in an armchair with a surprised look and raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. — I just put you on the bed, I didn’t know that such a tantrum would start.… Sorry, I’m not touching you anymore.… — Why… — Khaidarov rubbed his eyes sleepily — Well, actually, you could have fallen.… — Wait… what kind of tantrum? — Marat raised a puzzled look at Valya, not understanding what he was talking about. — It doesn’t matter. I’ve already figured it out, it was in a dream. I just came back to return your vape, which I accidentally took with me. I come here, and you’re sleeping on the windowsill, instead of a bed, and you’re almost falling over. And what am I? Should I ignore it? Yes, I moved you to the bed, I touched you, I’m sorry if you didn’t like it so much and it scared you so much. I’m not touching you anymore… “I’m such a monster…” — It’s just that no one has ever touched me like that. — What do you mean, 'Like that'?” I just picked you up, I didn’t touch any particular place on your body, if that’s what you mean. — Do you think at least someone took me in their arms, besides my father? — Probably not… — Well, that’s what I’m talking about. — I’m sorry, — Valya sighed, shaking his head, — I really don’t touch you anymore if you’re so uncomfortable about this, Marat Ravilevich. Marat just lay down on the bed in silence, falling asleep in a blanket. Valya stared at him in silence, then buried his face in his phone, staying with it until the alarm went off. After the call, Valentin woke Marat up as promised, persuading him to drink a glass of water and medicine, and then both fell asleep in their places: Valya was in an armchair, Marat was on the bed. Morning came. Marat was the first to wake up, an early riser, cleaned himself up, put on perfume, and put on a fluffy winter blouse. He looked at Valya, who was sleeping on an armchair, and while he was sleeping, he was hanging down, almost falling. — How long are we going to sleep? Marat’s voice was calm, but Valya, who was sleeping, shuddered as if he were in the army. He immediately fell out of his chair, whimpering softly in pain, but then got up quickly, dusted himself off and saluted. Marat silently watched this scene, crossing his arms over his chest. — I’m sorry, Marat Ravilevich, I just… — Val, are you in the army or something? Go eat already, breakfast is on the table — Yeah… Thank you… — Valentin definitely froze, looking at Marat in front of him, as if he was still in a dream. But finally coming to his senses, he went to the kitchen, but immediately managed to knock his head against the door, — Ouch! I’m sorry, heh… — He immediately ducked into the kitchen. Marat followed his gaze again, then shook his head. — Did you hurt yourself badly? — No, no, it’s all right! I bumped a little, it’s okay! — Valentin tried to concentrate on his breakfast, but the smell of Marat’s perfume did not leave his thoughts and his nose. He just sniffed it already, because the cologne was not only expensive and high-quality, but also delicious in smell. I wanted to smell this fragrance endlessly. And he couldn’t take his eyes off Marat’s beauty. And that cute white fluffy sweater… Valentine just wanted to cuddle this pleasant fabric. — “He’s so damn cool,” — Valya said to himself. — Come on, eat, get yourself cleaned up, and let’s go out to work. Finally, Valya ate, got up from the table and began to sort himself out, but suddenly he discovered in his reflection a coffee stain on his shirt, which was also wrinkled after sleeping. — Damn… damn, damn… Okay, I don’t care… — He came to Marat and the exit from his apartment. — Are you… going to go to work looking so sloppy? — Marat looked Valya up and down, then shrugged, sighing, — Okay, let’s go.… — And… Marat Ravilevich? Where are your jackets? — Valya was surprised because there wasn’t a single winter jacket on the hangers in the hallway. — I don’t have any. Come on out Valya immediately threw his jacket over him, frowning slightly. — I won’t let you go out naked, sorry! In such a cold weather! It’s dangerous for your health! — Take your jacket, I’ll get a work jacket from the department. — Ugh… You’re stubborn, aren’t you? — Valya made a displeased face. Marat looked at him skeptically, grunting, giving him the jacket. — I do not argue. Let’s go already. After going downstairs, a heavy snowstorm was waiting for them both on the street. — What the… hell! — Valya braced his feet against the snow. Due to a strong snowstorm and wind, his large golden wings suddenly opened. Marat turned to look at him, noting that he was one of the people in this world that he had met who had wings. Shirokov reached Marat, covering him with at least one wing, — Let me bring you at least to… — Where to? — Meanwhile, Marat opened the garage, heading there with Valya, after which he jumped into his convertible, closing the roof. Valya’s surprise knew no bounds. — Wow… — Jump in, or we will blow away — Thank you, — Valya opened the door of the convertible and immediately got into the car. He had naturally hidden his wings before, and they were practically invisible now., — You have a cool car! — Mmm… thank you, Valentin, — Khaidarov started the car and immediately pressed the gas to the floor, leaving the garage, and then onto the road, heading towards their common place of work. Valentin shrank back into the seat in surprise, and he was sitting in the front seat next to Marat. Marat Ravilyevich, where are you going so fast?! You’re not riding a motorbike! — Sorry, it’s a habit. And the love of speed — “Oh my God… Am I really riding in his car right now? Am I awake?” — And here we’ll slow down a little bit, it’s still icy, — Marat began to drive a little slower, although they were driving pretty fast anyway. — Marat Ravilevich, be careful, there’s someone trying to drive into oncoming traffic! — Let’s overtake him, — Haidarov jerked out so that no one would overtake him. Soon they arrived at the department, got out of the car and went inside the building. — Oh, look, the corpse opener has arrived, — Yurkov “greeted” Marat, as always. — Can you be more polite? — Marat chuckled, looking at this worm, walking to his workplace, — I would like to be more respected, and not just a corpse opener. — Okay. DEAR corpse opener! Ha ha ha! — Well, you’re just a DISRESPECTFUL fucking dick, — Valya said, walking past him and sitting down at his desk, grinning slightly. — He’s just fatty on his legs, — Marat joined in. — You two get nuts from me right now! Especially you, Shirokov! And in general, where am I fat?! — Yurkov was offended by Marat’s words. — Sorry, I can’t hear you, — Valya chuckled, taking up the documentation. — He’s a fat ass! — Biryukov snorted, crossing his arms over his chest. — Not only that, — Abashev confirmed. — What kind of mass bullying is this?! — And what you deserve is what you got, — Biryukov grinned, spitting in his direction, — I’m not even that fat, unlike you! — Well… there are definitely five extra kilograms in your body, Yurkov. Take a look at yourself and see for yourself, — Marat grinned, propping his head on his hand, and then looked thoughtful, — You know what, though? No, even more than five. — Fifteen, — Slava grinned as he entered the department, crossing his arms over his chest and standing at his desk. — Nah! Thirty! Valentine teased. — Oh, that’s funny, isn’t it? Now you’re playing the game who’s bigger? Who’s the bigger fucker. Well, well, kindergarten, nursery group. — Oh, Yurkov, what a mumbler you are, I don’t understand what you’re humming to yourself, — Marat shook his head. — And I don’t do deal with your kindergarten. — Then what is it? — Shirokov grinned, feeling his confidence and a certain power over Yurkov, in the presence of the others. Yurkov shot him a furious look. — Shut your mouth, you brat! By the way, it’s thanks to me that you were brought here at all! Meanwhile, Marat approached Yurkov from behind and whispered in his ear, but audible to everyone. — You have a mistake in the documents. — What? Where? I’ve been checking! — Yurkov was indignant. How did this happen? What’s the other mistake? He’s a lieutenant colonel, it’s imposible — And also, let me remind you: Thanks to my father, you’re still hanging out here. Piece of shit — That’s a fie on you! What nonsense, I made a mistake in one word! — And who’s the sucker here now? — Valentine teased with a smirk, leaning back in his chair. Yurkov walked past him, who kicked his backward-tilted chair with all his might and sent Valya crashing to the floor. — I’m going to Mishin’s, — Yurkov chuckled, and then left the department. Makarov immediately ran up to Valya because he was nearby and helped him get up from the floor — Val, are you okay? — Slava asked worriedly, straightening his shirt. Shirokov immediately turned towards Yurkov, who had left, clenching his hands into fists until his knuckles turned white, growling softly to himself, but still calmed down, pulling himself together. — Everything’s fine, — the lieutenant replied calmly, then picked up his chair and sat down. — Wow… That’s self—control, — Biryukov admired, — And we thought you’d punch him in the face. — I don’t need to waste my nerves and strength on a moron, — Valya chuckled, and then looked in the direction of Marat, who was looming near the lieutenant colonel’s desk as if he was planning something. Curiosity got the better of Valya and he approached Marat, smiling slightly, — Maybe I should cut the leg of his chair? — Or let’s do it like in school: put the buttons on the chair! — Igor suggested — Brilliant, — Abashev Grinned — Or… — Makarov picked up the glue, grinning, — We can put glue on his chair. What if he sees these buttons? And then our prank won’t work. — That’s right, Slavka, you’re a genius! He’s been sitting his ass off all day! — Igor confirmed. Marat, meanwhile, had already slightly sawed off the leg of his chair — For the company. A bonus, so to speak, — Marat said calmly. The others began to put glue on the chair and glue the buttons on the same glue. — Hehe, he’s going to run around with a seat with buttons glued to his ass! Biryukov chuckled nastily. — At the same time, he will fall first, — Said Marat. — Yeah, and then he gets up, and there’s something in his ass! — Shirokov laughed, — Perfect! — Maybe he’ll get a limp dick stuck through his pants. To make the potency happen, — Biryukov joked cruelly. — Well, we’re waiting. And now, gentlemens, to your places, — Marat commanded, while he himself paced around the department with a businesslike air. — Wait, I’ve got more, — Igor went back to Yurkov’s chair and spat there, — He’ll know how to call me a camel. — Wow, how clever, — Makarov admired, barely hiding his emotions, because he also participated in a common collective prank. Meanwhile, Yurkov returned, grumbling to himself, holding some papers in his hand. — Well, it’s fucked up, because of one fucking mistake to redo everything! — The lieutenant colonel grumbled indignantly, going to his desk, not noticing anything and sat down on his chair, which immediately broke under him, causing him to fall. The buttons stuck in the ass, along with the seat that was glued to it. The whole department heard the laughter of the scoundrels, who arranged it, — What is this?! Are you all fucked up or something?! You think that’s funny, don’t you?! Yurkov tried to stand up. And he kind of got up. But it was very unfortunate. His pants started tearing — Holy shit! The laughter only intensified. It was so nice to take revenge on the main reptile of the entire department. — Well, you’re rats, not colleagues! Suddenly Mishin entered the room, holding a folder in his hands. — Comrades, here we have… — He silently looked at the ongoing farce, looked at Yurkov in a ridiculous way, covered his mouth with his hand, coughing, — Ahem! I’ll come back later, — and immediately he went back to where he came from. Marat chuckled softly, twirling his knife in his hand, seeing Yurkov’s irritation. The lieutenant Colonel glared at everyone — Kindergarten! Idiots — Yurkov headed for the exit from the office, but immediately his glued seat got stuck in the aisle. A new wave of laughter broke out — What is it, Yurkov? Is the ass too fat? It doesn’t even fit in the door! — Valya said mockingly, laughing at the same time. Marat came closer to Yurkov, leaning against the wall next to the doorway and grinned — Oh my God, what a shame~ Yurkov finally got out and exasperatedly went somewhere. Soon, the laughter in the department died down. — God, I haven’t laughed like that in a long time! — Biryukov said, still laughing, — It was necessary to beat him up like that! Wow! Gentlemen, this is brilliant! — Gorgeous, — Marat agreed, continuing to pace the room. Valya looked serious as he continued his work. But sometimes he glanced at Marat. Slava noticed this, standing next to Valya and gently nudged him in the shoulder, saying you’re falling in love. Shirokov looked at him, rolled his eyes, and gave him a little shove in response, saying fuck off, asshole. Suddenly, the door of the department was flung open with a strong bang against the wall. Everyone turned to see an irritated Yurkov appear in the aisle, already without his ass-sitter. He walked over to Marat with quick steps and roughly pushed him into the wall, which hit his back. — You think it’s funny, don’t you, bitch? Now I’ll show you how fucking funny it is! — Yurkov clenched his fist and punched Khaidarov in the stomach with all his might, forcing him to double over. Valya’s reaction was not long in coming, he immediately flew up and slapped a powerful punch to Yurkov, so that he flew far away, it turned out that in the direction of the stunned Slava. Makarov punched him in the face, growling in annoyance, and then kicked him in the ass when he tried to get up. Igor and Valya were holding Marat back. Biryukov’s rage was aroused and he couldn’t stand it and pointed the gun in Yurkov’s direction. — Have you completely lost your fear, Yurkov, you filthy bastard?! — Igor Vasilyevich, don’t do this! — Valya immediately began to dissuade Igor from taking a sin on his soul. — Yes… you’re right about that. I don’t want to take a sin on my soul. Marat, meanwhile, looked in Yurkov’s direction, coughed slightly, and then grinned — Yes. It's funny. Making fun of such a pathetic nobody who can’t even hit properly. Meanwhile, Yurkov stood at the exit of the department, wiping blood from his nose and leaning his hand against the wall. — You’ll regret this, Khaidarov… — After his threat, he left the department again. Slava, Valya, and Igor helped Marat sit down on a chair, holding him just in case. — It looks like the blow was strong after all… — sighed Valya, carefully examining Marik. — Well, at least there will definitely be a bruise… — Confirmed Biryukov — Did he beat you off? Liver or spleen… — I don’t know… — said Marat, slightly closing his eyes. — Can we go to the hospital for an examination? — No way, — Marat snorted, shaking his head. Igor, meanwhile, carefully lifted his clothes, looking at the large bruise forming. Valya looked away at that moment, worried (well, yes, or maybe his penis would stand up at the most inopportune moment) — Val, are you shy? — Me? Of course not, it’s just… — Yeah, he’s embarrassed by the bruise, — Marat grinned, shaking his head, looking at Valentin. — Guys, this is not the time for jokes… — muttered Valya quietly, trying not to look at Marat’s visible body. — It looks like someone is afraid that he has… — Slava began to say his version, but he was immediately silenced by Valya’s palm. He grinned at his friend, raising an eyebrow, then added softly in a muffled voice, — So I’m right~ — Hush, by God! — Valentine muttered softly, glaring at Slava, saying, do you even know what you’re doing? Makarov just smiled slyly, he couldn’t wait to actually tell the whole truth about Val, but he kept himself under control. — Personally, this is the first time I’ve seen a guy shy of another guy, — Igor grinned, having finished examining Marat, — Well, there were no serious consequences. The bruise is true. — I just don’t want to embarrass him!” That’s why I don’t stare at him. — You’re really horny, aren’t you, Val?~ — Slava still couldn’t stand it, the dirty trick is so tricky — WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DO… GRRRR! — Valya went irritably to his desk. Slava smiled slyly, following him. Marat and Igor exchanged glances with each other. Igor slightly raised his eyebrows. Marat looked at him blankly, and then looked at the annoyed Valya. To be continued…