Chapter 5

Getting To Know Your Housemate

Translations are at the bottom of the chapter

Toris cleaned dust off of Feliks' back desk, as Feliks was working on his current project. So far, living with Feliks was pretty great. There was much more conversation now that Toris wasn't living alone, nor did his talk to Eduard and Ravis nearly as much, which must be good. Feliks was lively, to say the least. He seemed to have a large amount of energy, but, strangely, crash by the time night comes.

"So, is everything super-cluttered over there?" Feliks asked as he held up the button-up shirt he was working on, checking the seam he just finished.

"No, no," Toris chuckled, "this is nothing compared to some houses. I swear, some of these people that I clean for are hoarders."

"That bad, huh?" Feliks chuckled, putting the shirt back beneath his machine, continuing to sew the shirt together.

"Yeah," Toris breathed with a sigh. He glanced back at Feliks, who was already focused back on his work. Although he's quirky, he does have a good work ethic, Toris noted. He walked off from behind Feliks, and over to the windows. Using glass cleaner and newspaper, Toris began cleaning off Feliks' dirty windows with ease.

"Why are you using newspaper?" Feliks questioned.

Toris looked to Feliks over his shoulder. "I'm using newspaper because it keeps the glass from streaking, I figured it out when I left my rags at home."

Feliks gave Toris a stumped expression. "I didn't know, I'll remember that next time I clean."

Toris chuckled. "You know, I can just clean around here for you. I mean we are living together."

Feliks gasped loudly. "And yes, it's such a huge step in our relationship!"

Toris stared at Feliks in confusion for a long moment, unsure what he meant by that.

Feliks smirked. "I'm joking."

Toris sighed in relief. Stuff like this had happened an embarrassingly large amount of times, which was strange for Toris. He wasn't the best at sensing jokes, but he could usually read people in general… Except for Feliks.

Toris finished the window he was working on, and moved to the one beside it. He pulled back the curtain that blocked out sunlight, and Feliks literally hissed behind him. Slowly, Toris turned around to look at the Pole, who was lowering his hand from in front of his eyes.

"A bit of a warning next time." He complained.

"Sorry," Toris apologised, "I didn't think that the sun would blind you that badly."

Feliks gracefully waved his hand in dismissal. "No, no, it's okay, that was just, like, unexpected."

"I'll warn you next time." Toris promised as he turned to the window, and began to clean the it.

When he was finished with that window, he glanced out it for a moment, and turned away. Toris stopped in his tracks when he realized he saw a figure walking to Feliks' shop. He turned back to the window and stared at who it was, the person's identity becoming more and more clear as he neared the small shop.

"No way… It can't be..." Toris breathed as he recognized the man.

"Hm?" Feliks hummed from behind him.

The door opened, the top of it hitting the small golden bell above it, that rang in reply.

"Oh, hey Ivan." Feliks greeted.

"Afternoon, Feliks." Ivan replied in a tired voice.

"Braginsky?" Toris exclaimed in confusion.

Ivan turned to him with a raised eyebrow. "Laurinaitis?"

Feliks cleared his throat after a brief moment of silent confusion in the room, and both Toris and Ivan turned to look at him. "So, you two, like, know each other or something?"

Toris glanced at Ivan, who was about to speak. "Yes!" He exclaimed, cutting off the Russian.

Feliks shrugged in reply. "This is just a guess, but you two haven't seen each other in a while?"

Ivan shook his head. "No."

Feliks nodded. "Well, I need to keep working, I'll let you two catch up."

"Thank you." Toris said to Feliks, who winked at him in reply. He then looked back up to Ivan, the confused expression still painted on his face. "What are you doing here?"

Ivan glanced to Feliks, then back to Toris. "Picking up a pair of pants. I needed a patch-up."

Toris shook his head. "No, I mean in Poland. What are you doing in Poland?"

"I'm stationed here."

Toris glanced to Ivan's uniform, which was an obvious Soviet Union uniform. "Right, sorry. That was obvious. But wait, didn't you want out of war?"

Ivan looked away for a brief moment, almost as if he was deciding whether or not to answer Toris' question. "I don't really have anything back at home anymore."

Toris nodded in understanding, for that's the exact reason he's in Poland too; there's nothing for him back in Lithuania except bad memories and headstones. "I understand." Toris responded grimly, not sure if he should ask Ivan to go into further detail.

Ivan nodded and turned to Feliks. "Are my pants ready? I can't stay very long."

Quickly, Feliks spun around in his wheeled chair to his back desk. He hummed as he went from pile to pile, looking for Ivan's pair of pants. "Here they are!" He eventually exclaimed.

"Thank you," Ivan replied as he took his pants from Feliks, "I wish I could stay and chat, but I must get going."

Toris waved the platinum blonde off. "No, it's fine, Ivan. You have things to do."

Ivan nodded to Toris. "Hopefully I'll see you around."

Toris smiled. "Yes, and I hope you day goes smoothly."

Ivan groaned with a roll of his eyes. "I'd kill for that." He mumbled as he walked to the door. "See you two."

"Bye-bye!" Feliks said, faking a feminine voice.

"Bye, Ivan." Toris replied.

There was a moment of silence between he and Feliks, so Toris began cleaning the windows again. Well, at least until Feliks asked that dreaded question.

"How do you and Ivan know each other?"

Toris deflated at the question. He didn't want to answer because he hadn't told Feliks that he was in the war yet, but then again, he had to tell him eventually. Toris sighed before turning to the Pole. "I met him in 1940, on the Eastern Front. He was my officer."

Feliks' eyes widened in surprize before an unreadable expression appeared on his face. He cleared his throat awkwardly. "So, you were in the war?"

Toris nodded slowly. "I was a part of the Lithuanian Army, before the country got annexed in 1940." He paused for a moment as the memory of Eduard and Ravis entered his mind. "I joined the Russian Army, and Ivan was in charge of my battalion."

"Oh…" Feliks trailed off, a strange tone in his voice. "Are you okay?"

Confusion crossed Toris. "What?"

Feliks glanced away. "I know that sometimes people can get, like, flashbacks from things like that." He explained, "Are you okay?"

Toris nodded. "Yes, Feliks, I'm okay." He lied.

.

Feliks and Toris walked up their street, making small talk. Feliks asked Toris a little about the war, but he knew that it could be a sensitive topic, so he generally steered clear of it. It was a warm summer day, and the sun was far from setting. It still blazed brightly in the sky, warming the skin of both Toris and Feliks. Feliks kind of wished it was a bit colder, so he wasn't sweating in his long sleeved shirt.

There was a simple solution to his problem; roll up his sleeves, but that wasn't something he was willing to do. Not out in public, not in front of Toris.

"Feliks?" Toris asked, gaining his attention.

Feliks felt dumb, he had completely ignored whatever the attractive Lithuanian had said because he was too lost in thought. "Yeah?" He responded, acting casual.

"You alright?"

"Hm? Me, I'm fine. I wasn't the one in a war." Feliks responded

"You were zoning out." Toris added, stating the obvious.

Feliks turned around to look at Toris, who was further away than he had thought. Toris was standing on the slight hill, only a few feet from the small front porch, whilst Feliks was still on the sidewalk, headed further down the street. "Oh," he chuckled, "I thought this one was your house." Feliks said, pointing at the house to the left of Toris'.

Toris stared at the house for a moment before he shrugged. "I guess they do look a little similar."

Feliks swallowed hard, hoping, begging that Toris wouldn't pry more, and buy his act. Toris opened his mouth to speak again, but he was interrupted by a voice behind them.

"Bonjour!"

Feliks turned to see a group of four men, one of them Feliks recognised as Arthur, walking to their house directly across from Toris'.

"Speak Polish, dammit!" Arthur yelled at the long blonde who was approaching him.

"Przepraszam." The blonde apologised, "Cześć, nazywam się Francis."

Feliks smiled as he listened to his neighbor attempt at speaking Polish. "Witam, jestem Feliks."

Francis paused, looking up at the sky, probably translating in his head. "Miło ciebie."

Feliks drew his eyebrows together, trying to understand what Francis had just butchered. "Co?"

Arthur yelled down the correct translation of what Francis was attempting to say. "Miło cię poznać!"

Francis sighed heavily. "Nom de Dieu."

Feliks recognised that last part as French, but he then remembered that he could barely speak French. It seemed like he and Francis were going to have quite the language barrier. He thought for a moment, before he remembered that Arthur had yelled at Francis in English at the beginning of their conversation. "Would English be better?" Feliks suggested.

Francis sighed in relief. "Yes, that would be so much better!"

Arthur came jogging over, pointing at Francis angrily."No, no, no, no! You need to practice!"

"Arthur, it's alright," Feliks reassured, "it looks like all four of you had a long day at work, don't make him strain himself."

Francis laughed teasingly at Arthur, who scowled and flashed him the V sign.

"Sorry about him, Feliks, he's just cranky from the long day at work." Francis apologised.

Arthur pointed at himself. "I'm cranky?"

Francis smiled. "Oui. I mean, I'm in an obviously good mood, Feliks and Toris seem to be in a good mood, Alfred and Matthew are in a good mood, you're the only one who's cranky."

Arthur narrowed his eyes and scowled at Francis. "Gå til helvete."

Francis exclaimed a sound of pain, putting his left hand on his chest. "Why are you so mean to me? Why must you hurt me?"

Feliks raised an eyebrow at the playful argument the two were having. Arthur and Toris had told him that Arthur and Francis were cousins, and the twins standing by their house were Francis' sons, but Arthur and Francis definitely did not act like cousins. Sure, some cousins get along very well, and are closer to each other than Feliks is with his cousins, but they usually don't act like this. The hidden playful attitude in both of them suggested something more than just "getting along," something… romantic, even?

Feliks snorted in laughter at his last thought.

Francis and Arthur both looked over at him in confusion. "What?" They said in unison.

Panic filled Feliks, but luckily, due to his quirkiness and his fast-thinking, coming up with believable lies was a hidden talent. "Nothing, I just remembered a joke."

"Jokes? I like jokes!" One of Francis' sons exclaimed.

Feliks swallowed hard. "It's inappropriate for your young ears." He lied, "Like, really, really inappropriate."

"I want to hear it." Francis said, stepping closer.

Feliks just realized that he cornered himself. He didn't know how to get out of this one, his quick-wit was failing him. "Uh, I don't really want to start off our neighborly relationship off with a joke like that." Feliks finally answered awkwardly.

Francis chuckled. "Well, if it's that inappropriate, then nevermind.."

"Wait a minute." The boy said in an annoyed tone. "What do you mean 'too inappropriate for my young ears?'"

Feliks looked over at the blonde with blue eyes, that he could actually see a resemblance between Francis and him, although Arthur said he was adopted. "I don't know what you know."

"Could we get off this subject?" Arthur asked irritably.

Feliks shrugged. "Sure."

"You're Feliks, right?" The teen with blue eyes questioned.

Feliks straightened his posture, pretending that he was someone of high importance. "Oh, so you've heard of me? And yes, that is my name."

"...Yeah?" The teen replied slowly, the answer sounding more like a question rather than anything else. "Anyway, I'm Alfred, and this is Matthew." He pointed at the twin standing over by Arthur.

Matthew looked over at the sound of his name, he made eye contact with Feliks, and, after a slight hesitation, waved at him.

Feliks waved back. "Hey."

Matthew nodded at him, before he turned back to where he was looking.

Feliks smiled. "Is he shy?"

Alfred glanced at his brother before he responded. "No, he just doesn't talk."

"Why's that?"

Alfred hesitated for a moment before he answered. "He's mute."

Feliks glanced over at Toris, who had walked by to talk to Francis and Arthur. He turned back to Alfred. "Really?"

Alfred nodded slowly.

"Hey, Feliks, Toris?" Francis asked, gaining everyone's attention.

Feliks looked over, he saw Arthur walking up his front porch, probably going to wash up. "Yeah?" He replied.

"What is it, Francis?" Toris asked.

"How about you two come over for dinner." The Frenchman suggested.

"What?" Arthur exclaimed from his front door, turning to the group.

"That's a great idea!" Alfred exclaimed.

Feliks raised his hands. "I don't want to intrude-"

"No, it wouldn't be intruding!" Francis interrupted.

Feliks looked up at Arthur, who was glancing from person to person from on his front porch. There was a small amount of either anger or hostility or a mixture of both in his green eyes. Feliks was confused at that. The other day, Arthur was a strange character, but he seemed very kind. But today he seemed more aggressive.

"Right, Arthur?" Francis added, turning to Arthur.

Arthur only rolled his eyes and opened his front door, closing it quickly behind him as he entered his house. "Maybe we shouldn't." Feliks concluded.

Francis shook his head. "He's just not in the best mood today. It'll be good for him, trust me on this."

"What should I bring over?" Toris asked.

"You don't have to bring anything." Francis replied.

Toris shook his head. "No, we have to bring something."

Francis sighed. "What were you planning on eating tonight?"

Toris put his hands in his pockets. "Some chicken and mashed potatoes."

"Just bring that over, I guess."

"What time?" Feliks asked.

Francis looked down at his watch for a moment. "Just come over whenever you're food is ready. Give us at least an hour to wash up, though."

Toris glanced down at his watch. "So, eight at the earliest?"

Francis nodded. "Yeah, that'll work."

"Alright," Feliks said with a nod, "see you then."

Francis walked off with his sons, waving back at them. "See you."

Feliks and Toris entered their house without much conversation. Toris strode in the kitchen, putting the chicken in the oven and turning it on.

"So," Feliks began, turning on the sink and washing his hands, "what's up with Arthur and Francis?"

"What do you mean?"

Feliks turned off the sink and started drying his hands on a towel. "Are they a couple, or are they not?"

Toris glanced over at him with a chuckle. "You come up with such strange ideas."

Feliks tilted his head to the side. "Come on, you can't say that they were acting like cousins out there! There is definately something else going on!" He exclaimed.

Toris sighed. "They are a couple." He said slowly, "They just tell people that they're cousins so people won't wonder why they live together with two sons."

Feliks shrugged. "Makes sense."

"That doesn't change any opinions about them, does it?" Toris questioned, a hint of protectiveness in his voice.

Feliks narrowed his eyebrows. "Why would I judge? I'm a homosexual myself! That'd be very hypocritical of me, don't you think?"

"You never know with some people."

"You have a good point." Feliks replied with a nod.

Feliks pulled the potatoes out of the refrigerator and began mashing them with a small amount of butter and spices for dinner.

"Feliks." Toris said carefully.

"Yeah?"

Toris hesitated for a moment. "I should warn you about something."

Feliks looked over at the attractive Lithuanian. "About what?"

"About Arthur."

A little bit of uneasiness came with the name, not that Arthur scared him, it's just that Arthur was so different today that he was a few days ago, and Feliks didn't know what to expect from him. Feliks was sure that Arthur could be very kind, but Feliks was also sure that Arthur could be very cruel, if he wanted to be. "What about him?" Feliks finally replied.

"He's…" Toris paused for a long moment, probably trying to figure out a kind way of putting what he was about to say. "He's a troubled man, they all are over there."

Concern filled Feliks. "What do you mean?"

Toris paused again. "Arthur and Francis both fought in the war, just like I did, but they fought in France."

"...Oh…"

"Arthur is very paranoid ever since the war, so that's why he seemed a little… aggressive earlier." Toris added.

"What about Alfred and Matthew?" Feliks asked.

"They were orphaned because of the war, they lived in France until now."

Feliks deflated at Toris' words. "How old were they?"

"Uh…" Toris hummed in thought, "they were seven when they were orphaned and they met Arthur and Francis when they were ten."

"That's terrible!" Feliks exclaimed. "Do you know what happened to them?"

Toris shook his head. "No, I don't."

Feliks felt sorry for that entire family. "That's why Matthew doesn't speak?"

Toris' eyes widened slightly. "Yes-"

"I mean, Alfred told me that he was mute, but he, like, never specified if it was choosingly or not." Feliks interrupted.

Toris nodded. "He's choosingly mute, yes."

Feliks sighed sadly, thinking to himself. How many people were hurt by this war? How many people have more nightmares than dreams? How many people suffered?

*-If any of my translations in any of the languages are wrong, please let me know in the comments, and I'll fix it.-*

Translations

Bonjour- Hello/Hi (French)

Przepraszam- Sorry/I'm sorry/Excuse me (Polish)

Cześć, nazywam się Francis- Hi, my name was Francis (Polish)

Witam, jestem Feliks- Hello, I'm Feliks (Polish)

Miło ciebie- It's nice of you (Polish)

Co- What (Polish)

Miło cię poznać- Nice to meet you (Polish)

Nom de Dieu- Goddammit (French)

Gå til helvete- Go to hell (Norwegian)