Page 27 of Pistols and Plush Toys

Elliot sort of hated how soft the teddy bear was.

Hated how plush it was, the velvet sleekness under his fingers when he stroked over the fur.

He’d had a few carefully chosen stuffed animals over the years kept secreted away, but none of them had ever been this nice.

Elliot could tell the second he touched it that the bear was expensive.

He didn’t know what to think.

The puzzle books had been a surprise, but they’d been a practical gift, a way to wile away the hours of boredom spent trapped in his room.

The teddy bear was not. The teddy bear wasn’t for entertainment, or for passing time. The teddy bear, to him, was comfort. Care.

And painfully, embarrassingly personal.

That first day when Nikolai had pulled Apricot out of his backpack, Elliot had wanted to curl up and die on the spot. The comments Mattia had made about his stuffed animals had been cuttingly painful, so he couldn’t imagine what some stranger who wanted to hurt him would say.

But Nikolai had said nothing. Done nothing but tuck Apricot back away.

Nikolai had seen Apricot again the day he’d burst in and hauled Elliot out of bed. In the bathroom he’d seen Nikolai's eyes go to it. He’d seen him take in Elliot clutching his plush giraffe tightly.

Nikolai hadn’t said anything then, either. Elliot had expected it, braced for it, and it hadn’t come.

Now there was this–a gifted teddy bear.

He’d slept with the bear last night, tucked up under his chin, its soft fur brushing his skin. The bear was bigger than Apricot, and he was nice to hold. Nice to… cuddle with. Elliot didn’t really get to cuddle. Mattia was very sexual, but he wasn’t into softer touches.

Elliot had sometimes initiated sex with Mattia himself just to have someone touch him.

Now Elliot looked at the bear in his arms, as if its dark glass eyes would reveal Nikolai's motivations.

But the bear didn’t talk. The bear couldn’t tell him why it had been purchased. Couldn’t tell him what Nikolai had been thinking.

He wanted to expect cruelty. That was almost easier. It made more sense if Nikolai had given it to him as a joke. As a way to set him up, catch him cuddling with a stuffed animal like a child and then use it against him somehow.

But Elliot was having a harder and harder time imagining Nikolai hurting him for real.

Even that morning he’d burst into Elliot’s room furious…

Nikolai hadn’t really hurt him. He’d yanked Elliot around a bit, and Elliot had skinned his own knee stumbling to keep up with Nikolai’s angry gait, but Nikolai hadn’t hit him.

Mattia had blown up one of Nikolai’s businesses and hurt people and Nikolai hadn’t punished Elliot for it.

Instead, he’d apologized multiple times and—and bought Elliot a soft plush bear.

Now Elliot thought that maybe he’d been wrong before.

He’d thought that Nikolai and Mattia got angry the same way and apologized the same way.

But that didn’t seem to be it, really. Nikolai had only—rightfully—lost his temper after Mattia had done something truly terrible.

He’d been hurting almost more than he was angry.

And he’d apologized with his words first, before tending to Elliot’s scraped knee carefully.

He hadn’t told Elliot that it was Elliot’s fault either, for making him upset.

Nikolai was… accommodating. He didn’t act like he was lying in wait to try to trip Elliot up.

Instead, at meals, Nikolai asked him about food.

Encouraged Elliot to talk about his passion.

Asked follow-up questions, even. Made small talk.

It was… it was easier to talk, now that Elliot wasn’t as worried he’d be backhanded for it.

It was easier to eat and keep the food down, now that he wasn’t so sick with anxiety.

Elliot hugged the bear. The one thing they hadn’t talked about was Mattia. How negotiations were going.

He dreaded to know. Partially because now he was no longer sure if he was more afraid of staying here indefinitely or—going back home.

Of course he wouldn’t be here forever. Even if things didn’t end up going anywhere with Mattia, Elliot didn’t… he didn’t think Nikolai would kill him for it. Not anymore.

At the end of this, Elliot would be going back to Mattia. One way or another.

There would just be so many consequences when he went back. He shuddered and squeezed his eyes shut. There was something wrong with him that the idea of staying with his kidnapper was becoming more appealing by the day.

Then again, what kind of kidnapper went and bought their hostage a teddy bear? A nice, high end, luxuriously soft teddy bear.

Elliot sighed and opened his eyes again to regard the bear.

“What should your name be?” He asked, voice quiet. He knew he shouldn’t be too loud, even though no one else was there to hear him. Elliot had been too loud his whole life, first with his parents and then with Mattia.

Besides, he shouldn’t be shouting about the fact that he was talking to his toy bear anyway.

But a name was important. It felt important to name the bear.

Elliot’s stuffed animals usually got names relevant to their animal counterparts, but he didn’t have his phone to look up any bear facts.

All he kept coming back to with the bear was how fancy he was.

It even had a silk handkerchief tied around its neck.

“Richie?” He tried, feeling it out. “Sir Wealthington the Third?”

It made him laugh, trying to imagine Nikolai’s expression if Elliot told him the bear was named Sir Wealthington the Third. What would Nikolai even say to that?

How childish.

Elliot jolted at the memory of Mattia’s derision. No, that— no.

He gathered the bear back up and hugged him close. He really was the perfect size for hugging. “Your name… should be something good. Maxwell? Maybe Max, that’s cute—oh!” Of course, that was perfect. “I know. Maximillian!” He squeezed the bear. It was so soft. “Maximillian. Yeah, that’s you.”

There was a familiar knock at the door, and Elliot sat up. That had to be Nikolai, coming to get him for breakfast.

Usually this was the point at which Elliot shoved Apricot under the covers or back in his backpack, so Nikolai wouldn’t see him.

But Nikolai obviously knew about Apricot. And of course he knew about Maximillian.

Nikolai had gifted Elliot with Maximillian. Elliot didn’t think the man had done it to be cruel later.

“Come in,” he said, sitting up in bed without moving to hide either one of the animals out of sight. He’d dressed and brushed his teeth and everything else when he’d woken up earlier, so he was decent. As decent as he could be, anyway.

The door unlocked and Nikolai poked his head in. It didn’t take long for him to notice both the stuffed animals in the bed with Elliot. His eyes lingered on the bear.

Nikolai cleared his throat. “Morning. Ready for breakfast?”

Last night they’d agreed that Elliot would make crêpes. Elliot was… really looking forward to cooking again. To make something that Nikolai would hopefully enjoy.

“Yeah,” he said. “But, um—” he almost chickened out. It was only his need to know if Nikolai would be cruel that forced him to plunge forward. “So I-I named him. The bear.” To make sure there was no confusion, he reached out and pulled Maximillian back onto his lap.

Nikolai's face froze. Elliot could almost see the conscious effort he put into not reacting. The back of Elliot’s neck prickled.

“Good name?” Nikolai then asked.

Elliot forced a swallow, mouth dry. “Um, yeah. I think so. I decided on Maximillian. You know, because, um, he looks so fancy?”

“Maxim—” Nikolai started, and then his eyebrows scrunched together. “Maxim-alilly-ons.”

“Oh, um, close,” Elliot said. “Maximillian?”

“Maxim-alilly-ons,” Nikolai repeated dutifully, the exact same way as before.

Elliot couldn’t help it—he laughed.

It cut right through the tension, the way his whole body unlocked as his shoulders quaked. For a second he thought Nikolai might get angry that he was laughing, but Nikolai looked relieved. The corner of his mouth quirked up.

“Maxim is good name,” Nikolai said, coming further into the room. “Is Russian name. Maxim-alilly-ons is also good name, but maybe long name for me.”

Elliot looked to the bear in his lap, and then back up at Nikolai. “Maxim is a Russian name?”

Nikolai nodded.

“Could we, um, could we call him Max for short, then?” As soon as he said it though, he told himself how stupid he was being. Could we call him that? Who was he kidding? Nikolai wouldn’t—

“Max,” Nikolai said easily. “Is nice name. Russian people say also Max short for Maxim.”

Elliot nodded, automatically squeezing Max before he made himself stop, blushing furiously. But the nervous flutters weren’t churning into panic and dread, so that was okay.

There was a beat of silence, and then Nikolai asked, “Does your giraffe also have name?”

Elliot threw a startled glance in said giraffe’s direction, and then looked back up at Nikolai. “Um, y-yeah. His… his name is Apricot.”

“Apricot.” Nikolai nodded. “Because… of his color?”

“Sort of?” Elliot said. And then, because Nikolai had asked, he explained. “Apricot leaves are one of a giraffe’s primary food sources. They can eat like sixty-six pounds of leaves in a day.”

“So many.” Nikolai looked genuinely surprised. “Then is good name for tiny giraffe.”

Nikolai's approval was like butterflies in Elliot’s stomach.

“Thank you,” he said, unconsciously hugging Max closer, because he certainly couldn’t hug Nikolai . He shouldn’t even want to. “Thank you again for–for Max. He’s really nice. The nicest stuffed animal I’ve ever had.”

“You are welcome.” Nikolai said. His face went thoughtful, but all he ended up saying was, “Come, is time to eat.”

Elliot nodded and set Max aside next to Apricot. Then, instead of hiding them under the sheets, he gave in to the urge to tuck them in gently as he got off the bed.