[Kiska]

If it hadn't been for the opportunity he'd been given as a first soloist for the Bolshoi Ballet, Vasiliy Kozlov never would have come back to Moscow. He'd never liked the city as much as he felt he should have, but he'd been willing to put up with it if it meant he was well on his way to achieving his dream of becoming a principal ballerino with the most prestigious ballet in Russia. Being invited to dance as part of their company had practically floored him, and he'd jumped at the chance, even when it meant convincing his rigid Alpha to leave his job in Toronto so they could go back to Moscow together. "What's the point, really?" he'd asked as they'd packed, and the words would always ring through Vasiliy's head now, as long as he lived. "Once they see how bad you actually are, you'll be lucky to be demoted to corps de ballet. They'll probably fire you altogether; there are a hundred other Omega danseurs who can do just as well and better. You'd have been better off staying in Toronto; they already knew what they were getting into when you were promoted. The Bolshoi is going to be in for a shock."

He wasn't entirely wrong. He rarely ever was. They'd just gotten a shock of an entirely different variety.

The apartment he'd been left with after his ex moved out some six months ago overlooked the Moscow River, and Vasiliy hated it. He kept the curtains drawn on the depressing mid-autumn cityscape and rarely opened them. The weather forecast that morning had informed him that it was just over 3°C, and that they'd be expecting snow in the next week or so leading up to the end of October. He missed Canada; though it was still in the same climate range, sometimes it didn't actually snow substantially until well into December, and considering that he walked to where he worked in a small ballet studio, the Artisan School of Dance, he would have rather that the snow held off. The walk was miserable enough on its own without snow and ice to get in the way.

Before leaving, Vasiliy fed his bird, packed his duffel bag with a clean leotard, leggings, a worn-down pair of pointe shoes, a relatively newer set of flat shoes, checked his stock of bandages and tape, and finally stuffed a lunch box and a large water bottle in before closing it. He pulled on his coat and boots, wrapped a thick woolen scarf around his neck, and tugged a hat on over his hair, much more comfortable now that he'd cut off the lengths of ponytail that his ex had insisted he keep. Shouldering his bag, the Omega finally left, making off for the studio in what was to be a cold but uneventful walk to work.

The rest of the day went just as well. He'd noticed some strange activity in another suite in the same building, but paid little attention as he opened for the morning before any of the other instructors arrived and changed into his leotard. The day wore on and his students danced beautifully, coming and going in classes of all levels, spending several hours doing supplemental tutoring for a young ballerina who currently attended the Moscow State Academy of Choreography and was aiming for a principal position with the Mariinsky Theatre, which wouldn't be too difficult. Vasiliy sat with her while they he ate lunch and listened to her dream of becoming an honorary prima ballerina, and though he encouraged her, he couldn't help but feel a little jealous. She had the raw talent and the drive and the stage presence—she was a vibrant danseuse, a showman, so dedicated to being the best that she filled all her spare time dancing until her feet bled.  

Vasiliy had been that driven once. Now he just yelled at kids when they forgot their positions.

At the end of the day, Vasiliy was the last to leave. He stayed behind in the studio to clean up, and when he was finished, he shed his sweater, which normally hid the sickly curvature of his thin frame. He was gaining the weight back well enough that his bones no longer jutted out of his skin, but all Vasiliy could see was the hideous, malnourished body and the scars left behind on his hands. The last thing he wanted was people looking at him.  

He only danced when he was alone, and that evening was to a selection from La Bayadere. The Omega was graceful and fluid, full of emotion as he danced the part of Nikiya, performing her variation at the betrothal celebration of her beloved Solor and the Rajah's daughter, Gamzatti, just the way it had been danced when he'd been with the Mariinsky over six years ago. It was a choreography that he used with his intermediate students to teach them to be expressive, to become a sensory experience and make the audience feel what they were trying to portray.

It was one dance that Vasiliy loved dearly, that required beautiful extensions and amazing muscle control. Originally, it was choreographed for a woman, but the blond Omega didn't care either way; he pulled it off brilliantly, as pain-filled and poignant as any ballerina.

[Hyenadog]

Moving to Russia had been a bit of a gamble, leaving his home in the states to find inspiration abroad. It was a massive change, especially when you don't really speak the language. Tobias Garou was an artist of many styles, but he'd felt his work growing stale as of late. A friend offered him an apartment in Moscow and told him about a studio space he could rent, so he decided to take the chance.

The Alpha hadn't yet found that spark, the true inspiration he was hoping for. But he would never give up, and trying something new was just what he needed. The apartment wasn't what he was expecting. Very well lived in, but clean enough. Tobias didn't mind the small space because he wouldn't spend much time there anyway. He had adopted a stray cat not long after moving in, the orange furball decided to follow him home from the grocery store, and Tobias just couldn't say no to his pleading eyes.

He woke to his radio alarm, rolling out of bed and dressing in a half-awake state before shutting off the radio and going to make breakfast. Simple eggs and bacon, sharing some scraps with Jones, the orange tom cat. He made coffee and grumbled about it being awful to his furry companion, then went about cleaning up and finishing getting dressed. He sat around watching the news and practicing his Russian before leaving a bit late in the morning to go to his new studio.

Of course, moving men had already moved his things in, but left them all in one spot near the door. Tobias grumbled and went about unpacking and moving things around. He took several breaks, taking note of his neighbor, a dance studio. He would sit and listen to the music and to the instructor, managing to understand most of it. But going back to setting things up, he continued to grumble about having to move things on his own.

It was late in the day by the time he finished getting things where he wanted them. Setting up areas for painting or sculpting, an area to relax, and an area where he could sleep if he ended up being there too late. Of course, he set up an area for people to come and see his artwork, making sure it was close to the doorway. When he was done, he expected the building to be vacant, but as he left, he heard music coming from the dance studio.

He wandered over, slowly opening the door and peering in. He paused, seeing a lone figure dancing to the music. He watched intently, never once noticing the flaws of the dancer, only seeing the grace with which he moved. He stood quietly, just watching until he finished. He opened the door slowly before clapping a few times and attempting awkward praise in Russian. A warm smile on his face, pale blue eyes sparkling.

[Kiska]

The dance itself was simple, the choreography repetitive as he made it from one side of the studio floor to the other, movements slow as he bent his willowy frame. His whole body seemed to flow perfectly with the music, even when it very unexpectedly picked up the pace, going from soft, sorrowful strings to loud and excited brass. Vasiliy mostly kept his eyes closed. He knew this dance by heart, having practiced it all these years, though he couldn't help chancing a look in the mirror, imagining himself not only in Nikiya's bright red costume with his full abdomen exposed and a veil hanging from his head, but also seeing himself on the stage of the Bolshoi Theatre.

Toward what would have been the end of Nikiya's flower basket scene, just before being bitten by a snake and killed by its venom, Vasiliy looked up over his shoulder for reasons completely unbeknownst to him. He was usually quite focused on his body and his fantasy, but the feeling of eyes on him were now burning into his back and shaking his concentration. The air felt thick all of a sudden, made it hard to breathe, and by the end of the flower basket scene, Vasiliy was unnaturally winded; rather than continue to the end of Nikiya's life as she was offered an antidote and rejected it out of her sorrow, the blond Omega rushed to slip into his sweater and turned off the music, his back immediately to the mirror.

He took that time to examine the man, easily distinguishable as an Alpha through the sheer size of his body and his strong jawline. One look at him, all dark hair and skin, Vasiliy knew he wasn't local, and the awkwardly spoken Russian cemented that fact. The Omega inside him betrayed him, warming at the sight enough to flush his cheeks, but Vasiliy could easily play it off as overexertion. Either way, it seemed his instincts had deemed this man not a threat, and his fear turned more to embarrassment as he realized that he'd been sweating and the whole studio must have smelled of sweet Omega pheromones. "I speak English," he offered as an olive branch, though his voice was soft and just as awkward as the strange Alpha's had been moments ago. "The school is closed, though; you'll have to come back tomorrow if you want to register."

[Hyenadog]

Tobias hadn't wanted to intrude, but after spending so much time watching the other he felt it would be wrong to just leave. When he entered, it took a moment for his brain to register the scent filling the room, making him subconsciously more interested in this graceful individual. He noticed the way he instinctually went to cover up and put his back to the wall and tried to come off as less imposing. A difficult task for someone so tall with such an intense gaze.

His expression softened as he smiled, seeing the color in the omega's cheeks, subconsciously knowing the omega was responding to him. "Oh, good. I'm still working on speaking Russian." He said, giving a soft chuckle. His voice was deep, but soft, almost warm. "I'm not here for the school, I've got two left feet." He joked, moving a little further into the room. "Curiosity got the better of me, I'm your new neighbor in the other studio." He said, giving a vague motion towards the door.

"I heard the music and took a peek. I'm sorry if I intruded." He said, giving a sheepish smile.

[Kiska]

So that's what all the commotion was about that morning. It made sense that someone would be moving in, but he could only guess at what it was this man did for a living. Another good look at him and Vasiliy decided he wouldn't be surprised if it turned out that the man was dealing illegal weaponry behind whatever storefront he had set up. Or possibly drugs. Omega sex slaves. Were those still a thing? Probably. The Alpha certainly wasn't Russian, but it wasn't like he couldn't be there to deal with the Bratva in something shady.

He swallowed hard and set his jaw, trying to keep his head lowered as he licked his lips. A show of submission. He wasn't a threat now, but neither had his ex been when they met at the beginning of Vasiliy's dance career ten years ago. Now because of that encounter, he was teaching children out of a small studio and seeing a psychiatrist on a weekly basis rather than dancing his heart out for the Bolshoi and living his dream. "With all due respect," he responded slowly, "Everyone can dance. It's not something we're born innately talented at; you have to work hard to get there, and if you're passionate enough then eventually it'll pay off."

He relaxed marginally. There was only one entrance to the suite and a fire escape out the back--if anything went awry, Vasiliy knew how to escape, though he doubted that he would need to. With his body the way it was, he certainly didn't have to worry about being kidnapped and sold for sex; he wasn't that pretty either, though he wondered how important that was in trading Omegas. There were parts of the world where there were shortages of people presenting as Omegas, where one with blond hair and blue eyes would be uncommon or completely unheard of. Then again, places like that would mostly be interested in him for breeding purposes, and Vasiliy was painfully aware that he wasn't even useful for that.

"No, it's.... Don't worry about it. I should have locked the door. I wasn't thinking." He shook his head, finally pulling away from the wall just a little and holding onto the barre mounted in the wall as he began to remove his pointe shoes so he could put them into his bag and retrieve his water bottle. "Welcome to the building, anyway. It's a little old, and it makes funny noises sometimes, but it's in a good location; not so far out of the city that there's no traffic, and not so close that it's too loud or busy. There are good cafes within walking distance, and there's a grocery store the next block over." He hesitated, wiggling his toes and stretching them out, noting that he'd need to change the bandaging where one of his blisters had popped and bled through. He was surprised it hadn't stained the pale satin of his shoe.

With his shoes away and a few mouthfuls of water, the danseur felt much better; given time to think rationally, he was entirely certain that he wasn't about to be taken, so he came forward and extended his hand. "Vasiliy Ilyich Kozlov," he told the man, giving his full name in practiced Russian fashion, more a habit than a conscious decision. "I teach ballet, from beginner to advanced levels. And yourself?"

[Hyenadog]

Tobias knew all too well how imposing and potentially dangerous he looked, which is why he went out of his way to show he was no threat. He smiled, relaxed his posture, kept his tone soft, and never loomed over those shorter than him. Had he known the things the omega was thinking about him, he would have tried to assure him he was none of those things.

He watched the omega's body language curiously, seeing the way he seemed to stiffen when he mentioned not being able to dance. He was a bit surprised by his response, quickly shaking his head and putting his hands up to show he meant no harm "Sorry, Didn't mean it like that." He said, giving an awkward laugh. "I have my passion, its art. I understand what you mean about working at it to improve and putting everything into it. I put my heart and soul into my work." He said, placing his hand over his heart, his tone honest and sincere.

He watched the other removing his shoes curiously, head tilting gently to one side almost like a puppy. He smiled again when he mentioned the location being good, nodding as he pointed out locations nearby. "That's what my friend said when he told me about this place. Gave me an apartment nearby, but I'll probably spend most of my time here." He nodded.

He paused when the small omega stepped up and introduced himself, a wide smile crossing his face as he reached to take the offered hand. He gave it a quick shake before introducing himself, "Tobias Romulus Garou." He said with a quick nod, "its very nice to meet you. Don't hesitate to come visit my studio. We can share our passions." He chuckled, putting his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

[Kiska]

"Of course. That would be nice," Vasiliy replied, stepping back just a little as he directed his gaze down at his feet. Even through all the bandaging there was clear damage visible in the way his toes seemed all crammed together at an odd angle, toenails bruised and skin blistered. The dark red colour suggested pooling blood from too long spent dancing en pointe. Without thinking, teh danseur wiggled his toes, flexed them to air them out a little and winced. "I'd better clean these up and get them rewrapped. And... maybe change clothes. It gets cold at night when I'm not moving around." He motioned to his legs, covered only with a thin pair of black leggings. They were one of the few parts of his body that he still loved--long, elegant legs, firm with muscle and tapering beautifully from the width of his hips. And he was right to take pride in them.

"Anyway, if you need someone to show you around so you can get your bearings, I'm usually free on Sundays and Wednesday mornings; I can point you to some English-speaking shops if that would make things easier as well." The blond shouldered his bag and headed for the back room to change, clearly conscious of the way his sweater covered his body and hands. There was evidence of his thin stature in the angles of his face, but his cheeks had begun to round out more than his body in the last few months of rehabilitation on a high fat diet, so he didn't mind too much when people looked at him like that. It was just his body and his hands. The last thing he wanted was to have to explain why he'd gone through eight agonizing years of binging and purging in pursuit of the perfect figure; people just didn't understand, and it was painful to talk about on its own without being judged. He already knew he'd ruined his body--he didn't need to be reminded.

[Hyenadog]

Tobias' gaze followed the omega's down to his feet, the faintest wince crossing his face. There was a real part of him that wanted to help, give an extra pair of hands for wrapping fresh bandages after cleaning any open wounds. He only winced again when the toes were wiggled, but his gaze shifted to the others legs, accentuated by the skin tight leggings. "Ah, yeah. Quite cold here. Gonna need to get used to it." Chuckled Tobias, trying to lighten the mood.

"That would be very helpful. I can understand quite a bit of Russian, but I'm just having a hard time speaking it." He sighed, shaking his head. He paused when Vasiliy headed to the back room, the Alpha in him wanting to follow, to assert a level of dominance over the Omega. He'd never encountered an omega, at least not an unclaimed one...his scent was difficult to resist, but he kept himself under control.

But he felt it was okay to ask, "umm, could you use an extra set of hands?" He said, holding up his own bony long-fingered hands. A few scars were visible on his palms, as well as callouses from working. He had his own scars he preferred to hide...

[Kiska]

Vasiliy nodded his understanding; the Russian language was hard for a lot of non-native speakers, he noticed. Likely because they had to learn an entirely different alphabet and some of the sounds weren't natural to them. Learning a language in general was tough; the danseur knew from experience after moving to Canada and having only limited knowledge of English. Immersing himself in the culture and needed to use the language around native speakers on a daily basis had been nerve-wracking, but also a massive help to him. At least in the studio, all the dancers had a common language that Vasiliy understood without having to be told. Terms in ballet were mostly in French, and though he wasn't fluent in the language, he was familiar with it; as always, dancing had come as a relief.

"Oh...." He paused in the doorway into the back room, looking down at his feet again. He was used to doing it himself. No one had ever offered to help care for his feet before, and he was honestly in disbelief that Tobias wasn't completely repulsed by them. Ballet was beautiful, but there were times when the Russian wished he hadn't begged for the opportunity to dance en pointe with the girls. "That... might be nice, actually. Thank you." With a wave of his hand, he invited the Alpha into the back room where there was a line of old lockers with a bench in the middle of the floor and stalls for changing in privacy. To the far left, there was another door, leading into a storage room for props and costumes, and beyond that was the bathroom. Hardly anything in there was used anymore, except for the air conditioner and the space heater, which were shoved in there when not in use.

"Just give me a moment," the Omega requested as he removed his casual clothes from his bag and set it on the bench, disappearing into one of the stalls to slip out of his leggings and leotard, covering his body with layers of fabric--a tank top under a long-sleeved shirt and his sweater pulled back on top of that, and his leggings tugged back on under his jeans. "I'm not a very good Russian; the cold bothers me a lot," came his explanation as he stepped out, sitting himself down on the bench next to his bag and lifting a foot to begin peeling away the bandages. He glanced up, curious and skeptical. "You're sure this is okay? Most people can't stand to look at them. I can't go barefoot in public, that's for sure."

[Hyenadog]

Tobias wasn't so worried about writing as he was with speaking. He just couldn't get his brain to work in more than one language sometimes, so mentally translating his own words took a little longer than he'd like. But he supposed being around the language 24/7 would help.

He couldn't help smiling at the omega's surprise to his offer, glad he wasn't shunned right away. It took quite a lot to repulse the tall alpha, so he quietly followed Vasiliy into the back room and sat himself down on the bench. He liked the way old buildings smelled, even this locker room. It wasn't for sweaty jocks, so it had the faint scent of feminine body spray over the old scent of the building itself. Being an alpha meant he could experience the world to a depth many people never thought about. Though, he rarely spoke about it since most thought it was weird.

"No hurry." He said, quietly waiting while Vasiliy got changed. He idly looked around, tapping on the old wooden bench for a few moments. When Vasiliy returned, he found the layers or comfortable clothes quite cute on him. "Mm, the cold here does have a certain bite to it." He nodded, "I bet a lot of Russians pretend not to notice it, but it chills them to the core too." He said with a small smirk

He shifted slightly when the omega began to unwrap his foot. He winced slightly, but more an empathetic gesture than disgust. "One of my friends from school did dance. Not ballet, though. But I would help her with her feet." He nodded, reaching for the fresh bandages. "My own feet aren't pleasant either. Bony long toes." He laughed.

[Kiska]

The Omega chuffed out a soft laugh before gritting his teeth and pulling at one of the wraps until it slipped free. "I think most Russians just drink vodka, eat good food, and find a mate to keep their bed warm. All the ones I know, anyway. Sometimes I think about leaving the country over the winter; I'd take three months in Toronto over Moscow any day." There was a sparkle of entertainment in his statement, even as he pulled at bandages that were soaked through with sweat and blood. Of course it was painful, but Vasiliy did his best to keep quiet about it, hissing quietly only when he finally stretched his toes out to air out his war wounds.

"As bad as they are now, they were worse," he explained, turning to take his kit from his bag, including iodine wipes, antibiotic creams, and several rolls of medical tape, gauze, and bandages. He handed the kit over, turning to rest his foot on the bench between them while he started work on his other foot. "I danced professionally for... nine and a half years, I think. I started when I was sixteen, with the Mariinsky Theatre, which is pretty good, even though I was only corps de ballet, not that I expected anything better. I had a lot of firsts there; I danced in my first production, La Bayadere, as a temple dancer, actually. It's a woman's role, but the director liked how I moved. I was a late bloomer, so I presented during practice there. I had my first kiss, and... you know." Here, he paused to smile, almost embarrassed at what he was telling a stranger before continuing. "I went from there to Toronto with the National Ballet of Canada as a first soloist for four years, and then I was offered to come back to Moscow to dance with the Bolshoi Ballet, and who could turn that down? Otherwise, I would have stayed in Canada."

It was the best way he could think to distract himself, knowing that the care of his feet was going to be painful--more so with someone else taking care of it. He had a strange sense that Tobias would be gentle with him, and it eased his fears just enough. It's not like he was just treating some injuries, either. Vasiliy's feet were his livelihood, and to put them into the hands of an Alpha he didn't know.... Maybe he was being too trusting, especially after what the last nearly ten years of his life had been like. And then... wasn't that conceited of him? Thinking that any Alpha might want him at all? Of course it was. He couldn't help but wonder what kind of man would want someone like him in the first place.

As he finished unwrapping his left foot, he glanced up, mostly to check the progress on his right and tried his best to smile. "What about you? I don't hear of a lot of artists who can just pack up and move to a new country on a whim. You must be very good."

[Hyenadog]

Tobias chuckled when Vasiliy mentioned Russians and their vodka, shaking his head. "Unfortunately, I don't handle alcohol well and I'm not too great at cooking. I do have a cat to help keep me warm, if that's anything." He said, shrugging. He listened to him talk about Canada, tilting his head gently. "Its a different sort of cold, eh? Maybe its the surroundings." He said, looking thoughtful before shrugging it off as Vasiliy finished with unwrapping his foot.

He shifted himself a bit, taking the kit and taking out a wipe. He held the omega's foot with one gentle hand before starting to clean the worst of the wounds, always glancing up to his face for any indication he was hurting him. He was also listening intently as Vasiliy spoke about his past in ballet, looking genuinely interested even if he didn't know the names he dropped. To him, they sounded important and prestegious, so he assumed that must be true. "That's quite a career." He said, smiling as he started to apply some antibiotic ointment and wrap the bandages around his foot.

He secured the bandages with some tape before switching to his other foot and repeating the process. "Me? Ah, well. I felt like my work was going stale, I needed a big change and my friend had an apartment he sometimes uses to visit family here. So he's letting me stay here while I try to find my inspiration." He said, giving a nod, "Not sure if this was the best idea, but its an adventure." He added, giving a wide smile.

[Kiska]

The Russian hummed his acknowledgement of Tobias' predicament, wondering what something like that must feel like. He'd never lost interest in dancing. His passion never so much as flickered. Even when his body finally gave in and he collapsed during practice a little over six months ago, the only thing he was worried about during his recovery period was when he would get to dance again. He'd been more than a little crushed when he received the news that he would no longer be dancing for the Bolshoi, but he'd found some kind of solace as an instructor, even if the school was one small, low budget studio in an old building.

He knew about adventures, though, and leaving the country on a whim with only marginal hope that something would work out in your new home. Vasiliy had gotten lucky, following his Alpha to Canada and being picked up by the National Ballet on his recommendation. I had worked out for him, and rather well, because his four years of performance in Canada had gotten him his invitation that brought him one step closer to achieving his lifelong dream. As far as he could tell, Tobias didn't have someone whose coattails he could ride on, no leg up in Russia's artistic community. It had to be hard.

"Then hopefully this is the change you need," the blond commented with sincerity in his voice. He began to pull a pair of thick socks on over his bandaged foot, waiting until Tobias was finished with the other so he could slip the second sock on and retrieved his boots out of his locker. "There's a lot of beautiful things to paint in Moscow, if you do landscapes. You should see Red Square in the evening, with St. Basil's Cathedral all lit up; it's absolutely breath-taking. And the Kremlin is there, but it's not nearly as interesting. Only if you're into history." He paused just long enough to tie his laces, and reached back into his locker for his coat and scarf, slinging them over one arm, unsure of how much longer he was going to be inside. "There are a lot of art museums as well, depending on what your style is. I'm sure you could hold an exhibition with at least one of them, and if not, they can likely direct you to someone who would."

[Hyenadog]

Tobias wasn't sure about why his passion seemed to be wavering, perhaps it was more a lack of inspiration. Moving to a new country was his attempt to pursue his passion and find new inspiration. Or maybe it was time for his passion to evolve into something more. Hearing about Vasiliy's passion for dancing also made Tobias consider teaching. He had the space for it now, maybe he would turn his studio into a small art school.

But if Tobias was truly honest with himself, he was lonely. It was that empty feeling that was affecting his work. The alpha in him craved a mate, but he resisted his instincts.

He finished up with the omega's other foot, sitting back and putting the first aid things away. "I hope so." He nodded, giving the blond a warm smile. "I'll have to go around with my sketchbook and camera." He nodded. He shifted himself on the bench as the other got his jacket and scarf, humming softly at his suggestion. "Mmm, well, if you want, I could show you what I do. I mean, its right next door." He chuckled.

[Kiska]

"Oh, I...." He paused to think about the offer and his next words. 'Should be getting home' was on the tip of his tongue, along with other favourites like, 'I'm busy' and 'I forgot to feed my bird'. Of course none of it was true. From here, he usually walked down to his favourite cafe, settled himself down in a thick leather armchair with a steaming hot coffee and sometimes a pastry if he felt like spoiling himself, and he wouldn't move until they were ready to close. He didn't really do anything. Sometimes he read a book or blogs that he was following, checked his Facebook, played games, researched fun things to do with his students. And when he finally went home, he'd cook himself a balanced meal as directed by his dietitian, eat it with an anti-nausea tablet, watch a movie, and then go to bed after feeding Cyprus and covering his cage.

He didn't want to seem like he was hesitating to answer, but it was difficult for him. It probably wouldn't, but Vasiliy couldn't help lingering on the what ifs. What if this simple chance encounter evolved into more? What if he and Tobias started seeing more of each other than just neighbours working out of the same building? What if Tobias saw his body and was repulsed by it? Though with the way he'd reacted to Vasiliy's feet, the Omega wasn't sure that would be too much of a problem. Oh... but what would happen when he found out that Vasiliy's maiming of his own body had left him infertile and unable to experience regular heats like other Omegas? Who would want someone like that?

It wouldn't happen. So instead of turning the Alpha down like he usually would, the blond smiled, a soft, almost shy expression, and continued. "I'd really like that. Thank you."

[Hyenadog]

Tobias wouldn't have been upset if Vasiliy had said he needed to go for whatever reason, he was simply offering because they were on the topic. He didn't have anything else he needed to do other than giving some food to his cat. Other than that, all he did at home was watch TV and play some computer games. Nothing exciting.

Tobias never really thought about the future, like what if this encounter lead to more things. He preferred to just take life as it came. He wasn't looking for a mate, just a friend. And considering the fact that he and Vasiliy both worked in the same building just made sense to him to try to befriend him. Someone who could speak both languages could really help him learn as well. Not once did he think about the fact he knew the other was an omega, at least not consciously...but something subconscious was steering him towards the omega.

A broad grin crossed his face when the blond agreed to come see his workspace, getting up from the bench and motioning for him to follow. "Its kind of a mess right now, but I just got things set up." He said as they walked, glancing back at the other a few times. He unlocked the door and held it for him, following him in and turning on the lights.

His studio certainly was a bit chaotic, supplies stacked around, partially assembled displays, and just generally a mess. He gave a slightly awkward laugh, as if just realizing how much of a mess it was. "Sorry...I, umm...." He hesitated, not really sure how to go about explaining things. "Well, I don't really have everything set up yet, but I kind of have areas started. Painting is there, sculpting is there, drawing is over here, and I'm going to set up a 3D printer over there when I get one." He said, motioning to the various sections as he spoke.

His artwork was quite varied, from modernist paintings and sculpture to very traditional fine art styles. He liked to try a little of everything.

[Kiska]

The blond followed his neighbour out of the studio as requested, pausing to turn off all the lights and lock the door behind him. Not that the Artisan School really had much of any value, unless someone wanted to steal the portable barre out of the corner, or the ancient CD and cassette player that was still somehow clinging to life. He doubted anyone could get the upright piano out of the corner and down the stairs, though there were some old costumes in the back that might be worth a couple of rubles each. Artisan was far from glamorous, but the instructors were good and the students were enthusiastic, and Vasiliy loved that.

He stepped into the art studio when the door was opened, and squinted when the light was flipped on overhead, taking the time to let his eyes adjust before scanning the room around him. It certainly was a mess, but Vasiliy didn't seem bothered by it; more, he was fascinated by all the strange things he found as he carefully examined every section of the room, coat and scarf clutched to his chest. "This is all really interesting," he commented without looking up. "I can't even draw a stick figure, so I'm really impressed."

When he was finished with his walk around, he came back to Tobias' side, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear. Used to it being long enough, it was marginally frustrating when it slipped back out of place. "I don't know if you'd consider it, but my classes have some really amazing, beautiful dancers. You'd be welcome to sit in on some of the advanced students if that's something you'd be interested in."

[Hyenadog]

Tobias wasn't too worried about people stealing his stuff either. Most of it really only had value to him or to other artists...or collectors who are into his styles. But what he did make sure to secure was his tools and chemicals like paints and enamels in locked containers. Those things weren't cheap to get in the first place.

He watched Vasiliy look around his studio, a small smile stuck on his face. He smirked and crossed his arms at the omega's comment, shaking his head. "You don't have to be able to draw to make art." He shrugged. "I've known a few people who can't draw recognizable things to save their lives, but they can paint with such passion, or sculpt with such precision." He continued, giving a small nod. "Its just about doing what you love. And like what you said about dance, its about practice and dedication." He said, giving a wide smile.

He tilted his head when he offered to let him come watch his classes, looking thoughtful. "Oh, I'd love to." He said, wide smile returning. He couldn't help thinking the way he stood, holding his jacket and scarf close to him, was very cute. Tobias was such a sucker for cute things.

[Kiska]

Vasiliy grinned, finding something just so comical about having his words turned back on him like that. Certainly, he and Tobias shared passions for different types of art, though they could both be considered artists. Tobias painted and sculpted, and Vasiliy danced; through different mediums, they could both express their different emotions, and that was something the Omega found so fascinating. He figured that perhaps one day he would have to try painting or sculpting to see if either of those things worked out better than his past attempts at drawing, and maybe he could convince Tobias to try ballet.

If he had to be honest, though, the image of the Alpha in a leotard and tutu was absolutely uncalled for, but it had him grinning.

"Uhm, I have one dancer; she's amazing. I know she would love to have an artist sit in, and I think you'll find that she is quite inspiring," he offered, and then reached into his coat pocket to retrieve his phone. He was usually quite careful with his hands around people, keeping them out of sight as best he could, but a brief flash of the back of his right hand as he checked the time and then held his phone up as indication showed the pale skin, damaged with scarring that looked like mild acid burns. "I have pictures and videos. If you aren't too busy sorting this out, I can show you one of those cafe's I was telling you about and you could take a look." According to his phone's screen, it was nearly time for him to eat again, and his body reinforced as much with a painful twist of his stomach; regardless of whether Tobias left with him, Vasiliy was going to have to go.

[Hyenadog]

Tobias thought the same, they were both artists who simply expressed themselves in different ways. He wouldn't say no to giving lessons to the Omega. Not so much how to sculpt or paint, but how to use the materials properly. And if Vasiliy offered to try and teach him to dance, Tobias probably would give it a try. Physically, he had a lot of potential for dance, he just needed the right teacher.

He noticed Vasiliy's grin and arched a brow, wondering just what he was thinking about.

He looked curiously as the blond pulled out his phone and spoke about one of the students, shifting a little closer. He noticed the Omega's hand, but he knew better than to question one's scars. So he didn't say anything, focusing on the phone and the person more. "Oh, I'd love to." He said, grinning. "I'm done with all this for today. Got everything into the right areas, tomorrow I'll unpack it." He shrugged. "So, lead the way." He said, straightening himself up.