Brothers Romanoff [MMF]

21

"You have to let her go to school! She needs to socialize with other people otherwise she'll become a sociopath like you." Mikhail protested, slamming the preschool papers on the table.

Lev rolled his eyes. "Sociopathy is created by trauma. And we don't traumatize her. Do we my little katydid? Anyway, all this paperwork —all this money—we don't have either."

"Katya deserves the best—"

"Rise and shine cocksuckers,"

Lev sighed, sitting up, rubbing the back of his neck. It was clear he was no longer a young man nor a poor man, and the lack of lumbar support was starting to get to him.

"It's yard time. Lev if I catch you with your pants down, it's solitary for you."

Lev raised his hands.

Jean chuckled. "You becoming predictable, chere." He jumped out of bed, wincing, touching his back. "The old gang is mostly gone. Just you, me and some other lifers."

Lev nodded at a passing inmate. "What's his paperwork?"

Jean shrugged. "Keeps to himself, but 'e ain't a chomo, guards woulda let us know."

Lev narrowed his eyes.

"You know him chere?"

"Something about him...feels familiar. Hey! You in the orange!" Lev shouted. The man turned around, his black hair covering his eyes. "Let me see your paperwork."

He frowned. "Who the fuck are you new kid?"

A smile spread on Lev's face. He'd already learned two very important facts about Mr. Deja-vu. One, was he was not from this area. And two, he hadn't been here long. He licked his lips as the guard stood in front of his cell.

He grunted in dismay. "Romanoff, you're already startin shit. Mikhail says not to let you run too buck wild."

The guard opened the cell. "So no stirring the pot."

Lev smirked, as the guard walked him and Jean to the courtyard. He hummed a jolly tune.

"Lev," the officer warned with an edge. Lev eyed his target, sitting at the table with four inmates he'd never seen and the one he had his eyes on.

"So...what are you in for?" Len asked, his accent thick and dripping with mockery.

The man glanced up. "Don't you see it's five of us and one of you. Do you really wanna try me?"

Lev grinned. "Well of course not. It wouldn't be fair."

"Exactly, so fuck—"

"For you. You'd need more than that. Ask somebody who knows. Just say the name Lev Romanoff. You understand? This is my turf. You're the new boy. So..." Lev opened his hand. "Paperwork?"

"Aye, guards!"

Lev chuckled boisterously holding his stomach, before slinging his arm around the man's shoulder. "Oh...they're not gonna help you. No one is. I could slit your throat right now...and no one would bat an eye."

The man bit his lip.

"I come in here...to hunt for sport the undesirables of society, hm? The people no one will miss. The people no one loves. So...I'll ask one more time...what are you here for?"

Lev twirled the man's curls around his finger. "And why do you look so familiar?"

"Assault with a deadly weapon. And I gotta a familiar face. You wanna fuck off now?"

"Deadly weapon huh. Gun?"

He nodded.

Len nodded back. "Not bad. Do you know, when you have a certain level of skill in fighting, martial arts and things like that, you have to register your hands as a deadly weapon. You can't hit anyone back because these..." he tapped the man's hands. "Are trained to kill."

"There a point to the legal lesson?"

Lev just shrugged. "Just a fun little fact. Did you have fun?"

The man sneered.

"What's your name. And I'll leave you." Lev asked.

"Houston."

Lev nodded and stood. "Houston?"

He raised his brow.

"We...have a problem." Lev said lowly.

Houston just narrowed his eyes. "Never heard that one before," he sneered.

Jean followed after him as he took his spot in the middle of the yard, his face toward the sun.

"You know that cat, chere?"

Lev shrugged. "When I see him...my hands itch to kill him. But I can't place why. Maybe he's a got a killable face."

"Or maybe he done something to you that you can't remember."

"I am slow to anger, Jean. But something about him makes my blood boil."

"You? Slow to anger?" Jean mused, not bothering to vocalize the clear biblical callback. Slow to anger? Like god is described. But it suited Lev, having a god complex.

"Hm. I'm quick to irritation, sure but...it takes a special someone to really piss me off." Lev said slowly, his eyes on the seemingly oblivious Houston.

Jean glanced at him. "Normally you would've already jumped at him like a rabid dog with a shiv by now."

"I made a promise to stay human. To not become that ugly type of beast," Lev murmured wistfully.

Jean glanced away a knife forcing its way between his ribs. "...I always thought you were the most beautiful man in the world." He said softly, almost petulantly.

"You're childish," Lev said softly. "You know that you're not loved the way you should be. The way you need. But you blame yourself," Lev offered him a sad smile. "It isn't your fault that I can't love you. It's not because you're unlovable. You are a dear friend to me. Do you know?"

"I know, chere." Jean glanced ahead.

"I...I'm sorry. For leaving you to rot here. For...cultivating such a deep affection from you when I had no intention of returning —"

"Why are you doing this? It's not like you to apologize."

"I'm trying to be a little less like me. Maybe 2 percent. That includes apologizing to my friends, of which I have one," he smirked. "Consider it limited edition."

Jean smirked. "You think too much of yourself, Chere. I'll love again. You're a dick, yknow. I'll find someone nice."

Lev smiled and nodded. "You do that. This time, fall for the beauty. Leave the beast alone. Deal?"

Jean raised his brow but nodded, smiling back. "Oh, Chere. It hurts even more to see you change so." He said noting for a moment before heaving a sigh.

"Houston," Jean drawled. "I'll ask around see what I can dig up."

Lev nodded. He tried not to dream of Katya, especially in a place like this. It was too dirty for even her memory, she was worth too much, even as ghost to touch a place like this, his little girl. His baby.

Whom he killed. His stomach violently turned.

"What are you trying to tell me, Katya?" He whispered in Russian. "Who is he?"