It's Friday, and Fyodor isn't sure why he's here.

Not just working at a dilapidated mall, but he's starting to wonder why he's even alive.

Mitsuoki's plan was just to go over to the beauty shop and ask for his name. Easy. Simple.

For someone with social skills. Most definitely not Fyodor. And it turns out that was just the basics of the plan.

"Okay," Mitsuoki started. "This is how it's gonna go. We just walk over there and you say that you need some makeup for your niece for her birthday and you don't know what to pick. She's sick and dying and it's her last wish. Sound good? Good!"

Fyodor was not good. "Do I have to mention her being sick? And whats this 'we' business about?"

Mitsuoki snorted and put his hands on his hips. "You think I'm gonna miss this? Nuh uh, man! This is legitimate entertainment."

Fyodor rolled his eyes. "Not very entertaining for me."

Mitsuoki laughed and gave Fyodor a shove in the direction of the beauty shop. "You got this man!"

"... Ehh.."

Fyodor supposed he had no choice but to play along with this. Whatever this was.

He started the seemingly long tread across the floor. (He realizes that its only about 4.5 meters, but that's beside the point.)

He shuffled nervously across the linoleum tile. Everything in him was screaming at him to stop. He considered it for a few seconds.

But there was a small voice in the back of his head. This could be your chance. It was almost drowned out by the louder more powerful noises. Almost.

He continued walking, albeit a little awkwardly. Mitsuoki noticed. Fyodor felt him clap his shoulder encouragingly. Damn, this kid is tall, he begrudgingly admitted in his mind.

After what felt like hours (it was really just a few seconds), they reached the correct shop. 

Fyodor felt as if he hadn't complained enough, so he let out a groan and pushed open the door.

¤¤¤¤

Nikolai's life was nice. He had a nice apartment, a nice job, and some nice friends. (If you could count two drunk lesbians as nice friends.) Though in all seriousness, Kouyou and Yosano are great. They had helped him get this job actually. Fresh out of college (he dropped out after a year) and nothing better to do, he wanted to get a job.

He had gone to the mall to pick up some things and met Yosano.

Okay, it wasn't that simple. He had walked past the spa/makeup store and realized he needed a haircut. Just a little trim. Yosano was the one who did it, and as she was cutting off the dead ends, they talked. About what, he couldn't remember. He vaguely recalled saying how he was good with makeup and styling, he just hadn't had enough time in college.

When Yosano proposed working with her there, he accepted without a second thought. He met Kouyou on his first day of work. He hasn't regretted any second of it. He hasn't looked back. He loved working with them.

Oh, there's also a really cute boy that works across from him.

Ever since Nikolai brought up the boy, Kouyou and Yosano would not stop teasing him. Every single day they'd ask him, 'How's Crush-kun doing?' or 'Did you finally work up the courage to ask Crush-kun out?'

He can't escape it. Especially when said Crush-kun is walking towards the store. Right. Now. (He's very disappointed at the fact that he actually refers to him as Crush-kun in his head.)

So naturally, Nikolai was freaking out. He's sure its showing all over his face.

Shit, what do I do? He's right there. Stay calm, Nikolai. Just breathe. He does as instructed.

Belatedly, he sees the kid next to him. Fuck, is he married? He, of course, jumps to conclusions. Worst case scenarios. Thats what he does. Nikolai (once again, belatedly) notices he's not wearing a ring. Maybe he's divorced. Welp. He'll take what he can get.

~Time to turn on the charm~  But before he can open his mouth, Crush-kun is speaking. (Goddammit, stop calling him that!)

"Uh, hi. I could use some help?" It comes out as a question.

Before he knows what he's doing, Nikolai says, "Same."

He looks confused. "W-what?"

Oh, I said that out loud, didn't I? Fuuuuccckk meeeee.

Nikolai laughed nervously. "Nothing. I'm Nikolai Gogol. Weird that we've been working across from each other for so long and we don't know each other's names." Thank God I didn't mess that up.

The kid behind him gave him a look. He nodded slightly and turned to Nikolai. "Fyodor Dostoevsky," he said quietly, never meeting his eyes. He absentmindedly realized they're both Russian. Huh.

"Pleasure to meet you, Dos-kun! What did you need today?"

"I, um. . . makeup?"

He most have noticed Nikolai's expression because he quickly added on, "Not for me! My. . . cousin."

Nikolai laughed. "It's fine either way, Dos-kun! I wear it too, but you don't strike me as the type to." That was true. Fyodor was obviously not the type to wear makeup.

"What are they like?" Nikolai stood up from behind the counter.

"Um. . . quiet. A bit shy." Fyodor answered, absentmindedly playing with his hair. 

Cute, Nikolai thought while saying aloud, "Maybe some muted colors. Nothing too saturated."

He moved across the shop and sorted through some eyeshadow palettes, mascara, and the other essentials. While he did this, he decided to try and make small talk.

"So your cousin. . . they sound a lot like you," Nikolai grinned up at Fyodor.

Fyodor responded. "I suppose you could say that."

Nikolai's smirk grew. "Perhaps I could test these on you then, eh, Dos-kun?"

Fyodor visibly paled. "Please tell me you're not suggesting what I think you're suggesting."

"It's exactly what you think it is, Dos-kun."

Fyodor didn't really know what he was thinking when he realized he has a crush on this guy.

¤¤¤

Atsushi woke up to his phone ringing. He really didn't want to answer it. He looked at the caller ID. It was Chuuya. He supposed he has to answer.

He sighed, already expecting another Dazai rant. He was pleasantly surprised to find out he forgot it was his own birthday.

"Happy birthday, Atsu!" Chuuya yelled from the other end of the line.

"Holy shit, I forgot." Atsushi mumbled, rubbing his eyes. He sat up and checked the time. It was around eight thirty, so he got out of bed and tried to be productive. Chuuya was still on the phone.

"How do you forget your own birthday? That's really sad." He could practically smell the disappointment from his own apartment.

"Look, when you have college—" Atsushi started.

"I fucking know I went for years." Chuuya interrupted. "Anyways, I'm throwing you a party and you have to come."

"Wha— Chuu, what the actual fuck?" He all but yelled, eyes widening.

Chuuya cackled on the other line. "I did what I felt was right, kid! It's at the karaoke place by that one bookstore."

"Wow, so specific."

"Bring friends!"

Atsushj rolled his eyes. "You're my friend."

He could hear him shrug. "Bring another one. Karaoke's no fun with two people." He hung up. Atsushi was still in shock.

¤¤

The only reason Chuuya did it is because Atsushi has been drowning in college essays and needed some fun. He also needs a life. Very desperately.

Okay, fine. It was Dazai's idea.

And in the end, it didn't matter if it was his enemy's idea if it meant Atsushi could take a break.

Extremely sappy, but (hopefully) extremely effective.

Dazai was standing over him like a vulture the entire phone call. Honestly, does this guy even work? Do his employers actually pay him to sit around in the wrong rink and talk to Chuuya all day? He hoped not. Chuuya dreamed of the day Dazai got fired.

Dazai spoke. "Judging from his yelling, he doesn't know what to think?" He was smiling.

Chuuya turned to rearrange ice skates behind the counter. He grabbed a pair and sat down on a bench. "I guess you could say that. Atsushi never knows what to think." He was grinning, but his face turned serious as he spoke to him. He stopped tying his laces and looked up at Dazai. "Um, I'm not good at stuff like that, so, thanks I guess." He mumbled. He felt heat rise on his neck.

Dazai stared at him. When this drew on too long, Chuuya said, "Say something, at least!"

Dazai laughed, "Aww, chibi really isn't good at this stuff!"

Chuuya huffed. "I try to compliment you and this is how you respond?" He stood up and walked to the rink. He stepped onto the ice  where he knew Dazai wouldn't follow him unless he really wanted to annoy Chuuya.

Today Dazai chose to stay on the carpeted floor, leaning against the edge.

Chuuya pulled out his earbuds from his pocket. He shuffled a random playlist and skated. Dazai was still there.

And, maybe, if he hadn't put the volume as high as it could go, he would have heard Dazai say, "God, chibi. You're so stupid."