Author's Note : Here you go lovelies! It's been a while hasn't it? Sorry. Cosplaying has gotten the better of me! Just saying that Comicon was AMAZING and Belgium is my new favorite cosplay. Besides Deadman Wonderland that is.. eventhoughI'vebarelystartedit. ANYWAY Pleaseeeeeeee comment and stuff! I apologize that there were a few typos in the last chapter. I'm going to go through and fix those soon! Promise!

Also! I got a Tumblr! Bandwagon much? I think so! Follow me on there guys! Now. Harlequin-minds. Follow it.

/shameless self promotion

Feliks slammed the butt of the rifle into Toris's chest, causing the brunette to cough violently, gasping for the slightly damp air filling the bunker after the last night's rain.

"Like, you're such an idiot. Can't you do anything right?" The Pole shouted, his face a mask of bitter annoyance that Toris had never seen before.

Toris gulped and set a hand over his heart. "I did a pretty good job yesterday didn't I?"

Feliks froze, glaring down at the Lithuanian. "Keep telling yourself that." The blonde smirked and threw the heavy rifle onto the brunette's abdomen, making the brunette wince and inhale sharply, rolling onto his side and curling up slightly into a ball.

"J-Jackass.." Toris groaned, clutching his abused stomach tightly.

Feliks smirked. "Oh, I'm the jackass? Fine. I'll play the part." Feliks narrowed his shining emerald eyes. "Get up. Now."

Toris glared at the blonde, sitting up on his elbows. "Make me." His eyes shone with an irritating air that made the Pole want to punch him in the face.

Feliks sighed quietly. "Do I need to aim lower this time?"

Toris's face went slightly pale before standing up as Feliks had instructed.

"That's what I thought." The blond crossed his arms. "Run."

Toris narrowed his eyes. "You're shitting me."

"Nope."

"Well then let me fuck up your lungs and you can run with me, Feliks."

Feliks growled quietly. "Fuck you."

The brunette sat back down on the floor, his cheeks with a faint red tint. "Idiot."

The Pole watched him silently for a few moments, slightly bewildered that Toris had had the nerve to sit back down. Then again, he had hit him in the chest quite a few times, but Toris should have learned to be on time, right? This had become a routine and there was no reason for him to be this late. A few minutes, sure, Feliks would have understood. But an hour and a half was unreasonable, wasn't it? There was so little time until the deal, was it really Feliks's fault for, well, beating Toris up for it?

"I'm sorry I was late."

The blond looked down at Toris and bit his lower lip. "Good."

"Good?"

"Good."

"Why is it good?" Toris mumbled after a moment.

Feliks closed his eyes. "We don't have, like, a lot of time left, y'know. I know you've been doing an okay job, I guess.. But I still don't want anyone dying on my watch."

Toris stared up at Feliks's blank face.

"Even me?"

"Even you."

Two weeks had passed.

Three days were left until the deal.

Toris stood in the shower, thinking. There was no use trying to be on time today. Yesterday Feliks had insisted that he take some time off, to be at least an hour late: at least.

Feliks had been going easy on Toris. It wasn't really that hard to tell. Feliks didn't make the brunette strain himself as hard as he would have a few weeks ago.

The blonde had told Toris, never strain yourself unless absolutely necessary, you might regret it later.

The brunette knew this was true, but why bother holding back now? Shouldn't this be the time when Feliks pushes him harder and harder? If he were to ever train someone, Toris thought, this would be the time that he would truly test their abilities.

But Toris saw the reason behind the Pole's decision.

If Toris were bruised and sore and complaining (not that he had ever complained before) during the deal, he wouldn't be of much use to the rest of his friends when they were doing their jobs to the best of their abilities.

The brunette would just weigh them down if he was hurt. Not that he would be of much use to the others anyway, Feliks had already told him. Tino and Berwald are hopeless control freaks this time around, they'll do anything to help make sure no one but them has to do anything at all on the deal.

Toris had asked why they wanted to do all the work. Wasn't that too much for just two people to handle?

Feliks had said of course it was, but they had good reasons for worrying.

Like what? Toris asked. If this is a team then why should they want to do everything.

Feliks had promised the brunette that he would tell him later. They have their reasons, he had said. Toris let it slide. He didn't think it was any of his business anyway.

The brunette shook his head and got out of the shower, shivering at the cold, steamy air on his wet skin. He quickly wrapped a towel around himself and went out into his room.

"Took you long enough."

Toris spun around, eyes wide. Who the hell was in his room!

"Feliks..?"

The blond rolled his eyes at the brunette's scared expression. "Well who did you expect, Marie Antoinette herself? Jeez."

Toris gulped back the bitter taste of bile. "N-No maybe not her..." He turned his back on the Pole. "Wait. Why are you here?"

Feliks was quiet for a few moments. "I wanted to ask you something."

Toris looked back at the blonde. "What?"

"I forgot."

"Oh.."

The pair stayed quiet for a few moments before Toris grabbed some of his black and white clothes and started making his way back into the bathroom to change.

Feliks stood up quickly. "Wait! I-I uh.. I remember now."

Toris looked back at Feliks and stared for a second. "Can I put some clothes on first?" He said, holding the towel tighter around his own waist.

Felik's cheeks turned a soft rosy pink. "Yeah.. But, like, hurry."

Toris could feel his own cheeks getting warmer too.

"W-What?" Toris stared blankly at Feliks, trying to make sense of everything he had just said.

"Did I stutter?" Feliks murmured, staring down at his newly painted fingernails.

Toris shook his head. "They... we.. kidnap people?" The brunette ran a hand nervously through his own hair.

"Only to get what we want. This isn't exactly an everyday thing Toris." Feliks explained. "I told you Finland and Sweden wanted control over this for a reason didn't I? This is their reason."

The brunette bit his lip. "It's still wrong."

"Well so is selling drugs but you didn't seem, like, upset over that." The pole rebuked.

Toris looked up at Feliks. "It's their adopted son, you said? What is he doing over there anyway? We're in England."

Feliks shook his head. "I've told you as much as I know. Sorry."

"And we have someone's sister?"

"Yes."

"How do we know it's the right person? I mean it could easily be someone-"

Feliks snorted. "Do I really look that damn, like, stupid? DNA doesn't lie."

Toris didn't know how to respond. Feliks was right then. I guess they did have the right person.

It was 4 AM when the phone rang.

As usual, Toris was greeted by Antonio's cheerful voice or Lovino's more-irritated-than-not banter. But it was too early. Much too early.

"'ello?" Toris mumbled, picking up the sleek black phone from it's cradle.

Lovino yawned audibly, clearly not accustomed to this early awakening either. "Braginski wants to see you."

Toris rubbed his eyes and sat up. "Why?"

"Well I don't fucking know. Get your lazy ass out of bed." Lovino hung up his end of the call with a crash.

Toris groaned and quickly put on his shirt and pants, foregoing the jacket for now. He didn't think Ivan would mind seeing as it was so early in the morning.

The brunette walked groggily through the hallways, making his way slowly toward Ivan's office.

Much to Toris's surprise, he saw Ivan standing outside the large wood doors. In between his thumb and forefinger was a long, slim cigarette. The blonde hadn't noticed Toris's careful approach. The brunette cleared his throat, catching the attention of the larger man with a sickly sweet smile stuck to his lips. The Russian's lavender eyes glinted with a mischievous air and something else the brunette couldn't put his finger on.

"Hello Toris." Ivan sang, standing and greeting the brunette, leading him into his office with a firm hand on his shoulder.

Toris squirmed slightly under Ivan's touch. He was pressing his shoulder down a little too hard, but Toris went with Ivan into his office quietly. The brunette looked around at the bookshelves lining the walls, recognizing a few titles embossed in gold on the dull colored spines of the books. Ivan sat Toris down in one of the chairs, pressing his shoulder down further. The brunette complied.

The blond leaned against the front of his desk, watching the smaller man carefully. Ivan cocked his head slightly.

"Toris are you a virgin?" The blonde's smile widened.

Toris looked up at the man, stunned.

"Isn't that a rather personal question?" Toris said, his voice shaking with embarrassment.

Ivan chuckled. "I have the right to know, da? Tell me." The blond ran a cool hand through Toris's smooth locks.

The brunette pushed his hand away gently. "I'd rather not."

Ivan smirked. "So you aren't." The blonde set a hand on Toris's shoulder, pushing his back onto the smooth surface of the chair. Toris closed his eyes.

"Stop." He mumbled, trying to get out from under the Russian's grasp.

Ivan smiled, it made Toris's stomach turn. The smile was out of place next to the glint of lust in Ivan's lavender eyes.

"No."