Page 14 of Pistols and Plush Toys

He supposed it was his own fault for firing the last chef, Nikolai thought sourly.

He’d ordered Chinese for lunch and Brooks had eaten a combined total of six actual bites, so Nikolai had tried for simpler.

Maybe he should try to coax Brooks into ordering something he liked for meals tomorrow.

There had to be something out there he was willing to eat.

“You’re not answering my question from before,” Nikolai said after Brooks had managed a couple more bites and then stopped again.

Unsurprisingly, Brooks flinched once more, and Nikolai, with his new knowledge of he’s used to having a split lip , wondered for the first time if maybe… maybe Nikolai wasn’t the only problem.

It made him flush hot with anger, sharp and sudden.

“If you were wanting shower,” Nikolai quickly clarified.

“Oh,” Brooks said. “I… um, yes. Please. Thank you.”

Silence descended once again as they ate, Nikolai forcing himself to eat enough pasta that he wouldn’t be tempted to order a deep-fried treat later, and Brooks birding his way through. He still wasn’t consuming much overall, but it was more than Nikolai had seen him eat at any other meal.

So mild conversation might possibly be a winning strategy.

When they were both finished, he led Brooks through the house and to the bathroom they’d used before. New bags of clothing and fresh soap and shampoo were already on the counter, having been delivered by one of Nikolai’s people earlier in the day.

“You may… take your time.” Nikolai said as he stepped back into the doorway. “Is no rush.”

Brooks was nervous again, but there was nothing he could do for that.

Nikolai could be softer on the kid, but he couldn’t just leave him unattended in the bathroom.

This room was regularly used by both himself and his staff, and he’d seen more than once growing up how creative people could be in a room one did not consider to have weapons.

The large mirrors were glass, after all.

His eyes lingered on said large mirrors above the sinks before he forced himself to turn around. He couldn’t afford to be so trusting that he was taken for a fool. He’d made those sort of mistakes before and wasn’t eager to relearn the lesson.

To distract himself, Nikolai pulled his phone out of his pocket and opened his messages, starting to work through the unanswered ones.

Brooks's shower lasted long enough for Nikolai to get through almost half of the items in his inbox. Nikolai was almost proud of the kid when he was finally given the okay to turn back around.

***

“I’m wanting to order lunch for us, so is ready later,” Nikolai announced at breakfast the next morning. It was bagels and fruit, and Brooks was picking the grapes out of his fruit bowl and eating them, albeit slowly. It was still something. Nikolai made a mental note. “What you will like?”

Brooks froze with a grape halfway to his mouth, eyes darting to Nikolai.

“Oh, um,” Brooks’s gaze skittered away. “Whatever you want is fine.”

Yeah, Nikolai kind of figured that would be the answer. He tried again, more pointedly. “But what it is you will like?”

Then he watched in real time as Brooks started to shut down, shifting uncomfortably in his seat, the grape dropping back into the bowl.

The exact opposite reaction Nikolai wanted.

At least Brooks had been eating before, if only the tiniest amount.

In desperation, he started suggesting everything he could think of.

“We could be having pizza. Or hamburgers. Or Italian pasta. Sandwiches. Mexican. Sushi. Which is favorite?” Surely Brooks would like something.

Brooks bit his ravaged lip, then he darted another glance at Nikolai and his teeth let go. Nikolai caught himself just before he praised Brooks for the fix.

It was only because Nikolai wanted Brooks’s lip to heal, that he was so concerned about it.

Brooks’s fingers fidgeted with the edge of the bowl holding the fruit. “Oh. Um. I’m not that picky.”

This time Nikolai had to stop himself from scoffing out loud. Not picky? Who did Brooks think he was kidding?

But calling the kid a liar wouldn’t help matters. “You have favorite food?” Nikolai probed. “Comfort food?”

It was perhaps too personal a line of questioning, but Nikolai needed to get somewhere with this.

He was far from a man who counted calories, but Brooks had consumed very little in the going-on-three days he’d been in Nikolai’s home.

He was on the verge of starving himself, and if he could just throw Nikolai a bone and answer the question about what he would be willing to eat, Nikolai would get it for him.

Certainly Nikolai shouldn’t try to cook again.

“M-maybe pizza?” Brooks said quietly. Everything about him was so quiet. Like he was afraid of being louder.

But at least he’d answered the question. Nikolai would happily order Brooks a pizza. Or three. At this point no matter what it was that Brooks would want to eat, Nikolai was ready to provide it. Pizza was easy.

Meredith was going to give Nikolai an earful later when she saw the order, but even she would agree that ordering something Brooks would actually eat was a worthwhile decision.

“Pizza.” Nikolai nodded. “Is good choice. There is nice place not very far. What toppings you like?”

Brooks's shoulders had dropped at successfully jumping that hurdle, and Nikolai was glad for it. He didn’t want Brooks to be so afraid he couldn’t even function while he was here.

“I like plain cheese,” Brooks said after a second. “Or um, pepperoni. But I’ll eat anything–”

“I’m not say you should eat anything,” Nikolai said abruptly, doing his best not to let his frustration show and missing by a mile if the way Brooks wilted was anything to go by. He soldiered on. “I’m asking what you would like. Plain cheese and pepperoni?

Brooks nodded.

“Good,” Nikolai said, relieved. “Thank you. I will also order the cheese bread, because I like that. Maybe also pasta.” He was already pulling out his phone, swiping over to the ordering app.

He’d probably throw in quite a few extra things, just to see if Brooks would be tempted.

After the last few days of not eating, Brooks’s cheeks, which had been hollow to begin with, had gained a gauntness that was alarming.

Even his fear responses were slightly delayed, Nikolai was noticing, as if Brooks's brain was slowing in reaction time due to lack of nutrition.

Not good.

Nikolai kept his focus on the app, adding things he thought looked interesting. Out of the corner of his eye though, he kept an eye on Brooks. He watched him relax again, then his fingers inch back toward the grape.

Nikolai wasted time on the app long enough that three grapes made the slow journey to Brooks's mouth.

Progress.

***

That afternoon when he retrieved Brooks for lunch, he’d already put out all of the delivery items on the table.

They sat once more across from each other, and Nikolai watched Brooks blink down at the food-laden table.

Brooks even glanced back over his shoulder, as if he was expecting to see more people show up.

“I’m get carried away, so please eat everything you like,” Nikolai said when Brooks glanced back his way.

“Carried away, no kidding,” Brooks mumbled. Then he must’ve realized he’d spoken aloud, because his teeth snapped shut and a quick flush flared across his cheeks.

Nikolai only chuckled. Embarrassment was a big step up from how Brooks always seemed halfway to a panic attack. “I’m not getting to have pizza often. Meredith, you know, she wants me to live to be old man.”

“That’s… good.” Brooks said hesitantly as he took his seat.

Nikolai started helping himself, pulling slices from boxes and then grabbing a new plate to scoop a healthy spoonful of cheesy pasta onto.

He was looking forward to this. This place made much better pasta than Nikolai’s sad attempt at spaghetti.

“Yes,” Nikolai said. “Is annoying, but is maybe good my friend cares that I should live long time, yes? Since I’m won’t ever be having husband who wants same thing.”

Brooks looked up from putting a slice of pepperoni on his own plate, his eyes wide, but for once it didn’t seem from fear. More shock. Maybe he wasn’t expecting Nikolai to reveal that he was into men, even though Elliot himself was dating Vitale.

Then again, Vitale was pretty much the epitome of toxic masculinity. “You… won’t?” Brooks asked.

Nikolai counted it a point in his favor that Brooks’s curiosity had been piqued enough to ask. He shook his head genially. “I’m working too much for dating to be good idea.”

“O-oh.”

There was more he could have said on the subject to push the conversation forward, but Nikolai had to strongly remind himself that at the end of this Brooks was going to go back to Vitale, and potentially anything he’d learned about Nikolai here would be repeated.

He didn’t give a fuck if Vitale knew he was gay, but Nikolai needed to be careful about other personal details.

Their plan, if it succeeded, would topple Vitale’s growing empire.

No man would take that lying down. Vitale’s power in the city would be greatly diminished and hopefully his income streams decimated, but Vitale was a mean son of a bitch.

Nikolai had no doubt that he’d be bitter about his defeat, and all too eager to try to use whatever he could to get something over on Nikolai.

Nikolai shoved a forkful of pasta in his mouth, the food gone tasteless as his thoughts turned sour. His eyes drifted up the liquor cabinet across the room. Would having one drink with lunch really be so bad? It wasn’t as if Brooks would say anything the way Gerard or Meredith would.

But Brooks was exactly why Nikolai had to keep resisting. Deep down, Nikolai knew that if he poured himself a glass, it wouldn’t stop at one glass.