now, it wasn't that dazai was running out of money, but over a week of staying in a luxurious penthouse, he was running out of money. he needed to find a more stable place to stay, preferably a place where he didn't have to pay 45000 rubles a night. the ex-executive was getting ready for his usual lunch with dostoyevsky. for some reason, it had become a strange routine for the two of them, not that dazai was complaining. it was weird; somehow it helped ground him.

"good afternoon! how's your day been?" dostoyevsky looked up at him from his book, the faintest of smiles ghosting his lips as he put aside his book.

"it's been well. what about you?"

dazai hummed apathetically. "there's not much that happens in the hotel."

"of course." dostoyevky's eyes swept over the man's appearance, frowning at him. "you're going to catch a cold at this rate if you haven't already."

"i'm but a poor tourist, fyodor, i don't have the money to buy a new jacket! just be happy i got some new clothes!" dazai whined, wrapping the coat tighter around his body. dostoyevsky looked him up and down again before looking  back at his tea. he pulled a light purple bag onto the table. curious, dazai took it and looked into it. an expensive looking black long coat was folded neatly in the bag. dazai looked back up at fyodor, surprised and somewhat flattered. he tried to busy himself with his phone, but somehow dazai knew he was curious about the gift. "thanks."

"please don't." dazai chuckled.

"but you're so sweet! i never thought you'd be like that!" dazai leaned towards him, smiling. "under all of that domestic terrorism and general murderous tendencies, you're actually really nice!"

"i'm going to projectile vomit." dazai laughed softly, standing. "got some place to be?"

"house hunting. care to join?"

fyodor tilted his head. "my offer still stands."

"i know there's a catch to that offer."

fyodor smiled, purring, "of course," he leaned forward, "but how desperate are you for a rent-free house?" dazai watched the man's amethyst eyes glisten with interest, inspecting dazai's features once more. it bothered him a bit. dostoyevsky seemed to be in control, he seemed to know things better than he did, which wasn't surprising, this was his territory, it was just that dazai wasn't used to being on his back foot.

"well, if you could tell me what the catch is, i could answer your question."

"no, dazai, that's not quite what i mean." the latter furrowed his brows in confusion. "you're a smart boy, you'll figure it out." dazai watched him for a second longer before leaving.

the day was useless. all the houses in his price range were too small and all the houses luxurious enough for him were too pricy. in the back of his mind, he knew he shouldn't take dostoyevsky's deal, but he was curious. curiosity killed the cat, no?

dazai wanted at the train station, wearing the new coat. it was warm and comfortable and as much as he hated to admit it, he was glad dostoyevsky gave him the gift. "you're late." dazai didn't look up from his phone as the russian approached him.

"don't complain, i'm giving you a house." he looked dazai up and down. "the coat looks nice on you."

the brunet followed behind him. "you don't look rich," dazai commented, looking him up and down.

"you don't look competent."

"rude!" he whined childishly, tugging on his sleeve. a ghost of a smile graced the rat's lips. "wait wait, if i said 'you don't look rich' but in actuality you are, does that mean you think i'm competent?" dazai fluttered his lashes cutely as dostoyevsky rolled his eyes.

the two arrived at the modern house as fyodor unlocked the door. he let dazai explore the house as he took a seat on the sofa. the house was beautifully minimal with a clean feeling and oddly homely. dazai entered a bedroom, noticing a floor-to-ceiling window looking over the beautifully lit streets of st. petersburg. this would be nice to live in. as he went back downstairs, he noticed the man in the kitchen. "want a drink?" dazai nodded. "vodka? whiskey?"

"whiskey." he took the drink from the man's hand, getting comfortable on the sofa as the latter turned on the tv. there was a press conference with the diplomat's replacement and dazai was surprised that dostoyevsky was willingly watching this. "ah," he sighed with a slight smile, "rats really are crawling in this city, huh?"

dostoyevsky glanced at him. "does that bother you?"

"i happen to like rats." dazai gave him a suggestive smirk and either the russian didn't notice or pretended he didn't. dazai threw his drink back before standing. "well, i should get going."

"do you need a lift?" dazai shook his head with a smile, heading towards the front door. "alright, take care." he watched the man for a moment longer, carefully analysing the man. he quickly moved back towards the noir haired man.

"it doesn't make sense," he murmured, trying to see past his calm demeanour. "it really doesn't make sense, dostoyevsky. you're such a calculated man, and yet you're giving me, a stranger, a house." dostoyevsky looked up from his phone, eyes focusing on the man with cool amusement. "why are you so attached to a stranger?"

"can't it just be simple innocent curiosity?"

'innocent' was never a word dazai would associate with the russian. he moved closer, smiling at the quick flash of confusion or surprise in his eyes. "you know something," his voice dropped with slight seduction, "won't you tell me?" dostoyevsky's eyes trailed down dazai's body, humming in amusement as dazai tilted his chin up with his finger, surprised when there was an electric jolt in his fingertips, activating his ability.

"what makes you think i will?" dostoyevsky asked, eyes narrowing carefully. he didn't seem to care about the spark of the ability as his slender fingers wrapped around his wrist, a feathery stroke on the bandaged skin that could be brushed off as a mistake, before pulling his hand away. he turned back to his phone. "didn't you have someplace to be?"

dazai smiled despite his disappointment. "i'll see you tomorrow." dazai walked back towards the door and the softest chuckle left the man's lips. oh, how he wanted break that man's composure.

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this sucks but o wells—