Heart's Too Big

[waitforsuperman]

Who: Alfred and Ivan
When:  ~Valentine's Day~
Where: Alfred's apartment (because Ivan's a bum and didn't pay the heating bill)
What: Since last year's Valentine's Day involved a lot plate throwing and yelling, Ivan and Alfred thought they'd try something new this year. It's called fluff.

Comments

[das_vedanya]

Truth be told, Alfred would have to go through fifteen boxes of successively smaller sizes that night before he finally got to the one that bore his gift. (It was amusing watching the American's face fall another centimeter every time he opened a box and found another inside of it, knowing that each one meant the gift would be smaller than he originally thought.) The real present was barely the size of Ivan's fist, and it looked small even in Alfred's palm. The box was nicely wrapped, of a blood red color with a white, elegant bow perched atop the lid. Ivan ushered him to open it, and when Alfred did, he would find a leather lanyard with a tiny brass key for its charm.

Ivan still felt a tad ill from having ate that burger from before, slightly disappointed in the taste of Alfred's skin that was lost in the flavor of ketchup and mustard and mayonnaise and whatever else Alfred insisted be added between Ivan's patty and bun. But stomaching a burger was more worth not having a plate thrown at him - actually, they'd eaten on paper plates that night as a precaution, but being out of the kitchen provided a relief greater than he initially thought.

[waitforsuperman]

The key was utterly unremarkable (and wouldn't even work for a motorbike so cross that off) and Alfred initially thought it had been nothing more than a joke. Then again, keys sometimes played big parts in their relationship. He touched the ridges carefully, sitting down next to Ivan and leaning against him quietly, turning the key over and over. No secret buttons, no engravings not nothing. It was just a key and keys only have one purpose.

"What does it open?" Alfred asked, head turning to look at Ivan, pressing a kiss to his jaw (a fan of the mix of burger and Ivan's skin). "I mean, it's cool and everything, but there's not much I can do with it unless I know what it opens."

[das_vedanya]

The Russian leaned back on the couch, let Alfred nestle against him and watch the key with a childish fascination, albiet disappointment because it was not the key to a new Ferarri (god forbid lest he crash that one, too). Ivan felt the rigid teeth of his own keys bite into his thigh from the pocket in which they perched. The key to his office, to his study, to his bedroom, to his house, and the spare for Alfred's. The latter two were so remarkably similar that Ivan often found himself trying to fit the wrong key to the wrong lock before his logic corrected the problem.

"You will see soon, mailchik," he assured the insatiable blonde. Ivan drew a finger to his lips. "Our little secret, da?"

[waitforsuperman]

"Goddammit-" Alfred muttered, sitting up a little more, pulling Ivan's wrist so the finger left the cold lips, the American quickly pressing his own to the now vacant spot. He smiled just barely, so Ivan could only taste a hint of it before pulling back, shaking his head. "You're way too crafty sometimes. You better tell me soon though."

Slipping the key into his pocket where his cellphone would usually be (not there right now, instead upstairs and turned off so nothing could interrupt them) Alfred reached over to the table, picking up his own gift and depositing it on Ivan's lap.

He smiled lightly, stretching. "Don't know if it's as good as a mystery key to Narnia," he said, resting back against the arm of the couch, knees pressing against Ivan, so he could block the gift from his own sight, "but I figure you'll get it."

[das_vedanya]

The first thing Ivan noticed about the gift was just how heavy it weighed against his legs. The box definitely made a noise similar to something breakable, so he could tell by the careless manner of it's deposit that Alfred could care less if it were broken or not. Atop the box sat a card that looked like it was drawn by one of Ivan's child clients. The handwriting was messy (To:... did that say Ivan or Ivory?), but upon opening it, the handwriting became considerably neater as if more time was deliberately placed into, from what Ivan could tell by the formatting, a poem.

Roses are red, violets are blue, our super-cool flags are both red, white, and blue! Cute. "Alfred, you rhymed 'blue' with 'blue.'" Ivan said pointedly while tucking the card away in a safe place on the table. Then he started pulling the wrapping paper off (why did Alfred insist on using so much tape?) until the familiar IKEA label gleamed up at him in yellow and blue.

Dinner plates. The exact same dinner plates that Ivan and Alfred had broken exactly 365 days earlier. The Russian swallowed, muttered a 'thank you', and then put the gift on the table with the same amount of carelessness as when Alfred first handed it to him.

[waitforsuperman]

"You're missing the point!" Alfred said when Ivan questioned his poetry making skills. that had taken him, like, an hour! But he watched Ivan put the plate down a little looser than should be and watched it roll on it's bottom rim for a moment before it came to a stand-still. Part of him wondered if he'd made a mistake but Ivan didn't look pissed.

He should take the chance now, while he still had it. Flipping his body around so his chest was pressed to the Russian's side, Alfred pushed him onto the couch, pinning him by the shoulders and grinning down at him. "I figured since I ruined your plates last year, we could start a new set or somethin'."

Leaning down, Alfred kissed him, pressing their foreheads together as he glasses slid down his nose, hitting Ivan's larger one. "And it was either 'both red, white and blue' or 'we stick together like glue'. I figured I'd play it safe."

[das_vedanya]

Watching the revolving plate was hypnotizing. The sound of ceramics rolling along the coffee table sounded like nails on a chalkboard until the plate finally ceased and halted with a series of clatters against the card. He turned to Alfred, only to find his gaze locked up on the ceiling when his back was pushed into the cushions of Alfred's couch. Somehow Alfred's pressing him into the couch felt softer than the couch itself.

"I bought a new set about a week after we broke u- broke the first set," Ivan explained, worrying away secretly at the inside of his cheek. With a small amount of handicap at Alfred's push against his shoulders, Ivan raised one hand to remove the American's spectacles and deposit them on the plate as if he were planning to devour them later. "At least glue rhymes with 'blue'."

[waitforsuperman]

Eyes taking a moment to adjust, Alfred blinked owlishly at the violet eyes, barely catching his own reflection in them before the Russian's face came into focus. Moving and shifting to compensate for Ivan's size (the couch was really too small for the pair of them) Alfred eventually gave up, falling on top of him and curling up lightly, making their legs tangle.

"Dunno, blue does kinda rhyme with blue," he argued, ear pressed against Ivan's chest, listening to the steady heartbeat, finger tapping the off-beat on his sternum, creating a constant, clock-like tone.

He'd caught the word that wasn't said in Ivan's voice. "We broke up because we were both stupid," he murmured, nestling a kiss at Ivan's neck. "That's done with and we're both gonna stick with each other. Like glue~"

He wondered vaguely if this meant the mood was gone...

[das_vedanya]

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Ivan vaguely wondered if he and Alfred were still as 'stupid' as the boy claimed they were a year ago. They were still selfish, stubborn, and relied too heavily on physical aspects to take part in a moment like this without Ivan become painfully aware of just how uncomfortable he got pressed up against Alfred while still trapped in slacks to take notice of how warm Alfred felt against him.

"Perhaps you should've put 'glue' in your poem then." Ivan's voice sounded tired as he gazed up at the ceiling, foot tapping to every off-beat his heart made in comparison to the American's tap, tap, tap... tap. Tap. Tap tap tap, tap. The beat was lost on what Ivan assumed to be restlessness and he writhed a little under Alfred's weight. "We should... take his upstairs."

[waitforsuperman]

"I was waiting for you to say it."

Alfred was off of Ivan in the same half-second it took to place a period at the end of his sentence. The next was spent yanking the Russian up into a sitting position and kissing him hard, fingers tightening in the collar of the button up shirt -leave it to Ivan to overdress on a day notorious for it's bedroom time.

Oh well, Alfred would have it off soon enough.

[das_vedanya]

It amazed Ivan just how quickly Alfred could move without being disoriented from the lack of glasses correcting his vision. After a hard press of their lips and a click of clashing teeth, Ivan's fingers caught the arm of Alfred's glasses and stood to his feet. But upon doing so, he felt the light-headedness from before rush up to meet him; blood rushed to his head and darkness clouded his eyes temporarily as he swayed like a reed in a light breeze before Alfred. When his vision corrected itself, Alfred was looking upon him with concern. Ivan had felt dizzy since arriving in Alfred's home hours earlier.

In actuality, the reason he'd ended up in the kitchen with his arms around Alfred's waist was for support. The tingly bites of limbs falling asleep swarmed his legs and he'd nestled against Alfred's back while he cooked his burgers, Ivan trailing his lips over the back of his neck to assure him that nothing was wrong.

Ivan gave the American a reassuring smile, then placed the Californian's glasses back on the bridge of his nose, secure around the backs of his ears (his lips would be there soon enough), and reached down to tangle his fingers together with Alfred's. With a tight squeeze of extra reassurance, he allowed himself to be lead by Alfred's eager pace toward the stairwell. In the darkness of blood still swarming in the corners of his eye-veins, Ivan calculated every step to be a mile high even as Alfred skipped up each one with ease. The Russian had only barely reached the second step when he felt the tap, tap tap. taptaptap tap. tap tap tap tap-ing of his heart, the invisible hand of something cold and hot all at once squeeze it like a malleable clay - and the last thing he felt was his fingers slipping from Alfred's hold before everything went black.

[waitforsuperman]

Alfred's heart is also beating. Beating in pleasure at spending the night with Ivan, with expectation at the night itself and with a warm feeling that this year they're not fighting and there's nothing to fight about. It was finally good in their relationship. Not great; not okay, just good and that, to him was one of the biggest steps they could've taken.

But his heart was oddly discontent when Ivan swayed, when he looked pale and there was just the hint of sluggishness in his step. Even Alfred knew that promise of a bedroom could get the Russian moving. But the fingers soothed his glasses back on and though touch was soft, the vision the action grant only gave Alfred more reason to worry. Ivan looked sickly and that was saying something when the man was usually pale and tired-looking. But fingers were squeezing in his and there was a small smile that tried to tell Alfred that Ivan was okay.

In his eagerness, Alfred believed him.

And while Ivan's heart beat faster and faster, Alfred's had stopped the moment the fingers had left his. He looked around at the sudden loosening and barely made it in time to catch the Russian. Due to the stairs and their heights, Alfred found himself with Ivan's head somewhere near his shoulder. The brief and sporadic training that had occurred in the last few months was enough to keep Alfred from collapsing as he gently laid Ivan down at the foot of the stairs.

Panicking and already thinking about how long it would take n ambulance to get there, he brushed worried fingers over the Russian's face, one hand automatically clutching the cross around his neck. Save my gay lover... Yeah right. He still clung to it and tapped the pale, pale cheek with his hand.

"Ivan- s-sweetheart-" he managed, hovering over him, "wake up. Babe.. Please, wake up. Not today, please not today of all days-"

[das_vedanya]

Visions danced over his eyes. Black ones, white ones, snow, then darkness - shadows. Lights flickered somewhere in the distance, then a pair of eyes. Blue ones, bright as a sky Ivan hadn't seen since winter arrived in Liberty. Then beyond the skies came the sun, or was it wheat fields? Maybe sunflower petals, but too narrow to be. Something bright slipped into vision: several tiny suns spotted across his vision like stars in daylight. Yet none of the suns brought him warmth. He was cold, so much so that it was a wonder why he could still move while feeling adjacent to a block of ice. The wind howled in the distance, bit at his ears and slipped their secrets in. Not today, not today...

He silently wondered how much time passed while clocks ticked in the distant parts of his mind, maybe his heartbeat he hoped.

The sunspots dissipated and made way for flares on glass lenses, blue skies of worried eyes behind them, wheat fields of golden blonde hair framing a face. Blue eyes like skies ready to storm and rain thunderstorms down on the snowy fields of Ivan's face. Eyelashes fluttered, purple eyes perviously hidden behind white eyelids fixed on Alfred as if he could see through him. "Alfred?"

[waitforsuperman]

Alfred absolutely beamed at him, even the golden sunshine in his hair paling towards the brightness not only in the smile but in his shining eyes.

"Ivan..." No, his voice was not choked. He was holding it together. "Thank God you're okay."

His fingers, tanned even in the winter, were even darker and healthier against Ivan's white and pale skin as he touched his face worriedly, as if making sure very part of it were there.

And those purple eyes, not even focused on him- but at least he was saying his name. He could go through life with Ivan just saying his name.

Carefully, he lifted Ivan's head into his lap, leaning down, kissing him quietly. Still cold, still so friggin' cold. "I'm going to call the ambulance, just hang tight okay?"

Part of him didn't want to move. Just wanted to stay there and keep Ivan in his lap and make sure he was okay. His fingers threaded through the ashen hair, leaning down, pressing another kiss to his lips and then his cool cheek and why wasn't he getting any warmer? Alfred was doing his best, why wasn't the skin warming under his hands?

[das_vedanya]

Life sprang so suddenly back into Ivan's eyes that it seemed as if Alfred's words were a defibrillator that shocked his heart back into life. His hands shot up, catching the bends of Alfred's jaw and holding him there. Alfred was tanned, Alfred was blonde, even the walls of his apartment were tanned. Hospitals were white, white as snow.

"Nyet... n-no, Alfred. Don't call..." his fingers curled tighter, fingernails digging in. "I don't want to spend another night there. I want to stay here."

[waitforsuperman]

Jumping at the sudden hands, Alfred was quickly reeled back by the fingers that dug into his jaw. He stared down into the lavender eyes now focused on him. All at once he panicked and wanted to run but Ivan had that stupid ability to keep him there.

He found himself nodding, wincing just a little at the nails and the force and the desperation in his partner's voice. "I won't call-" he murmured, "I promise. But- what the hell just happened...?"