Nikolai Gogol POV.

Glasses clanking, people cheering. Fyodor makes a toast, paying for everyone in the bars drinks. Before the drinks were even made, you both drugged all of them.

The clueless people already knocked out at their tables as you two sit there in silence, drinking your drinks. Until, Fyodor’s eyes flutter - his head dropping.

“You didn’t accidentally dose our drinks, right?” Fyodor asked unsurely..

“Not accidentally.”

Nikolai whispered, a hazy grin on his face.