Rat Trap [5/6]
Title: Rat Trap [5/6]
Author/Artist: Sayasama
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Russia/US, and an "It's complicated" UK->US. Minor pairings include: LietPol (platonic), Netherlands/Canada, and GerIta. France and Prussia also make some appearances later.
Rating: PG-13 (maybe M) for sexual themes, some swearing, and later allusions to violence.
Warnings: Prostitution and the psychology thereof, psychological abuse, Dub-con and/or non-con depending on how you define the terms, swearing, and OOC.
Summary: "'Tis the strumpet's plague/To beguile many and be beguiled by one"-Iago; Othello, Act 4, Scene 1
A/n: Just one more chapter after this! Oh, this went by too fast.
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Before separating, they decided that Alfred needed to gather all the information he could about his situation: how large his debt was and the rate at which it grew, how much Matthew’s college payments were, how much Alfred currently made altogether and how much it actually covered. Meanwhile they would both look for jobs that Alfred could take on once he’d left the bordello for good. They would try to decide whether Alfred could pay off his whole debt alone after that because trust or no trust, he wanted to do it on his own. He had to prove to himself that he could do it all by himself, that he could stand on his own even if he didn’t need to. Then and only then would he feel truly comfortable relying on others.
It was this very mission that had him up at eight in the morning when the majority of the third floor was asleep after a long night of work. Spread out around his bed was a collection of job ads he’d taken from the newspapers Toris left in the break room every day. He was in for a long morning of sorting through ads and deciding on which ones he would look into, before carefully hiding any evidence of his plans. He couldn’t let anyone find out about this, it would inevitably reach Arthur’s ears if anyone did and the last thing Alfred needed was Arthur telling him that it was a dumb and futile effort. He had a bad habit of believing Arthur when he said those things. (Of course, Arthur could do worse but Alfred wasn’t going to think about that now.)
Sighing, Alfred cut out another ad that piqued his interest, only to yelp when he nearly cut his own finger in the process. ‘Damn, I’m way too tired if I can’t even use regular scissors without hurting myself,’ Alfred thought, gathering up the newspaper clippings and putting them in a box. He was moving off of his bed when someone knocked on his door. The sound caught him unaware and tired as he was, he lost balance and tumbled onto the floor, causing a racket and spilling the contents of his box as he went.
Whoever was at the door heard the sound and barged in to investigate. Groaning in pain and very much considering just sleeping where he was, Alfred fought the urge to do just that and instead cracked open his eyes to see Francis hovering over him in worry, looking just as tired as he felt.
“What are you doing up at such an hour Alfred?” Francis asked, as though all normal people slept through the day.
“I could ask you the same question Franny,” Alfred replied, rubbing the back of his head. “And why the hell is it that whenever you come into my room lately I fall?”
Gently, Francis helped Alfred sit up again. “I don’t know, but if you call me Franny again I will kick you.”
“You’d kick me when I’m down? Bastard,” Alfred said distractedly, his eyes looking around his floor to take in the mess he’d made. The papers had slid out of their box and a few of the ad clippings had scattered about the floor, but it wasn’t a terrible mess. Now he just had to clean them up before Francis got a really good look at any of it.
“What were you doing up so early anyway? I have never known you to be this much of a morning person,” Francis asked curiously. Alfred shrugged and turned his back to the Frenchman, shoving the newspapers back into their box unceremoniously; he could sort through it all again another morning.
“I couldn’t sleep, s’all,” Alfred said, quickly looking around the spill area to see if he’d missed anything. As far as he could tell he hadn’t.
“And what are you trying so hard to hide right now?”
Damnit. “I’m not hiding anything. It’s just yesterday’s news. I figured it’d put me to sleep,” Alfred lied, getting up to put the box away in his closet, which happened to house his numerous boxes of (mostly free) video games generously donated by a certain otaku client of his. Inwardly, Alfred thought that might be the only part of this job he would miss.
“Uh-huh,” Francis mumbled as he walked over to the area that Alfred had just moved away from. On the ground, roughly where Alfred’s knee had been, was a small paper clipping that he had missed. Francis picked it up, inspected it, then shoved it into Alfred’s face the moment the younger man had turned back to him.
“What, pray tell, is this? Why do you need another job? You are killing yourself with your workload as it is.”
Cursing himself to hell for his imperceptiveness, Alfred scrambled for an excuse to give the older man. “I’m just looking for something that pays better than what I’ve got.”
“Better than what? That café or this place?” Francis asked accusingly. That Alfred couldn’t bring himself to answer right away was answer enough.
“Are you out of your mind? You are doing this for Mattieu are you not? Arthur is not so charitable as to keep paying the boy’s tuition if you decide to run away!”
“That’s why I’m looking for a second job! I can find a place that pays better than this, and Matt’s got his own job now, so together we can pay it ourselves!” Alfred said, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. He didn’t want to have this conversation. If anything, he wished Francis would just say that he’d keep his mouth shut about it and leave.
“And what of your debt? Where will you even go? Have you planned this out at all?”
“Well that debt is only growing as long as I depend on Arthur to pay for Mattie’s schooling! And maybe I don’t know where I’ll go but this isn’t the only place with rooms for rent!” Alfred hissed out, wanting to yell but not wanting to wake anyone else up and call attention to himself.
Sighing, Francis moved back to sit on the side of Alfred’s bed and gestured for Alfred to do the same. He complied hesitantly. “It is not that I want you to stay here forever, unhappy as you are. This just seems very reckless to me. You are bad at lying and sneaking around and our dear sourcils is very perceptive. He will not let you leave so easily.”
“Well it’s not like I’m asking his permission,” Alfred mumbled petulantly. “But that’s the thing, you see? It’s not the money keeping me here, and it hasn’t been the money for a long time. It's not even Arthur, really. It’s been me, thinking that I didn’t deserve to leave, thinking that this was the only way to be worth something to someone, that I couldn’t live on my own. But it’s not Francis, and I know that now. Please don’t tell me that I can’t do this.”
For a moment they sat quietly, Francis scrutinizing his pleading but determined expression until he was satisfied with what he saw. “If you are sure, then I will not breathe a word of this to anyone. Just please plan a bit more before you leave? It would be a shame if you left here, only to end up living in a cardboard box.”
Alfred sighed in relief. “I don’t see any cardboard boxes in my future, don’t worry.”
000
From:
Alfred Williams-Jones
To:
Matthew Williams-Jones
Hey! I know I called and all already, but got home safe and everything so don’t worry!
This is kinda out of nowhere, but just how much are each of your payments? I forgot. And you said you’ve got a job too now, right? How much of that goes to paying off your tuition, exactly? I know these are kind of weird questions, but I just sort of thought that it’s something I should know, ya know? Kinda silly of me to lose track of it.
Well, I haven’t been home long enough for anything to actually happen sooo… That’s it!
Miss you already bro,
Al
000
For the past two weeks, their “dates” haven’t really been dates. Alfred still met Ivan in the park and they still talked about all manner of things, but now they did so over newspaper clippings instead of cakes. Ivan was looking through job ads for him too, and was going out of his way to pick up job applications for him whenever they decided he should go for one.
“Damn, it’s impossible to fill these things out like this,” Alfred muttered, attempting to fill in one of the application forms on his knee. His leg wasn’t the most effective of writing surfaces, and the wind was making the pages flutter like crazy. It didn’t help that the late winter cold was numbing his fingers and making his nose runny either.
“Perhaps next time we should find somewhere indoors to work?” Ivan suggested, though he seemed completely unfazed by the cold. Alfred wrote it off as him just being so incredibly Russian that the cold couldn’t possibly bother him, and continued to struggle with the paper in front of him.
“Yeah, but the only places open are like, drive-thrus and drug stores and stuff.”
“Then bring them home to work on?”
“They might be found though.”
“Then we will go to my home?”
“That-Wait, your place? Like… I can actually visit your house and stuff?” Alfred asked, looking equal parts surprised and sheepish.
“Apartment, and yes, you may. It would be easier to work there than here.”
“Seriously? Cool!” Alfred exclaimed, leaning over to hug Ivan in his excitement. For a moment, Ivan seemed frozen in shock, which Alfred didn’t understand because as hesitant as he was about physical intimacy beyond innocent kisses, he was pretty liberal with hugs once he knew a person. He worried for a moment that maybe Ivan didn’t want him to touch him anymore, maybe he thought Alfred was too disgusting to touch or infected, but then he responded by wrapping his arms around his waist. Relieved, Alfred melted against the older man, taking comfort in the strength he could feel in Ivan’s form.
They both tensed right up again though the moment the alarm on Alfred’s cell phone (which he was definitely throwing into the river when all of this was done) went off. Alfred knew it wasn’t just his own stomach that fell to the ground when it went off now, since they both knew what he was going home to. Rigid and mechanical, he disentangled himself from Ivan and shut off the alarm.
“Sorry. I… I’ll be out of this soon though, I promise. I’ve just gotta land another job, right?” Alfred asked, shaky and unsure. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Ivan, and instead just gathered up the things they’d brought.
“да. You will not have to go back to that place soon.”
“Right. Um, I guess I’d better go now. Bye Ivan,” Alfred tried to sound more upbeat than he felt as he waved over his shoulder at the other.
“…Goodbye, Alfred.”
000
“Hey Ludwig, can I come in?” Alfred asked through the door to Ludwig’s office. He heard an affirmative answer and was let in a moment later by the ever-cheerful Feliciano. Ludwig motioned for him to sit down in front of his desk and Alfred complied with a bit of hesitance. He knew that Ludwig, for all that he looked like a former Marine, was really a nice guy and was an even nicer guy when Feliciano was in the room (because Feliciano got sad when Ludwig was angry or mean and Ludwig didn’t like it when Feliciano was sad). Still, the guy did look pretty darn intimidating.
“What is it, Alfred?” Ludwig asked, sounding tired as ever.
“It’s nothing big, I just wanted to ask if you would mind if I put you down as a contact on some job applications I’m filling out?” Alfred asked quickly, nervous about the answer. Ludwig was a busy man, busier than your average pastry chef should really be, and he probably wouldn’t appreciate the extra calls.
“You’re looking for another job? Is this your two-weeks’ notice then?” Ludwig looked slightly alarmed at the thought-he was understaffed as it was, he didn’t need Alfred walking out too.
“No, no, no! I love it here, wouldn’t even leave at night if you didn’t make me!” Alfred assured (which, all things considered, was true enough). “It’s my second job I’m leaving. Shitty work, shitty boss, shitty hours, shitty pay, you know? So uh… do you mind?”
Ludwig seemed to contemplate something for a moment before speaking. “What sort of work are you looking into?” He asked finally, throwing Alfred off.
“Uh… Anything really, why?” He asked with a bit of confusion.
“Because his brother is looking for help, ve~! Gilbert owns a pet store, it’s really big and has lots of dogs and cats and birds!” Feliciano butt in suddenly. Frankly, Alfred was surprised he’d stayed quiet for as long as he had. “But he doesn’t like the cats much, because they always go after his birds! And there’s one that always sits on his head, but he doesn’t know-“
“-Yes, as Feliciano said, my brother owns a store and is looking for help,” Ludwig cut in before Feliciano could get too far into his babbling. “If you would like, I can talk to him about getting you a job working the morning shift there. It’s in the area, so it should be convenient.”
Excitement shone on Alfred’s face at the offer. “I’d love that! Gosh, you’re totally the coolest boss ever!”
“Yup, he is!” Feliciano chirped, “He’s the best and the nicest, even though he yells a lot and cleans the kitchen even when it’s not dirty and-“
“That’s enough, Feliciano,” Ludwig said, his face burning red. Alfred tried not to laugh. “You can go now Jones, I’ll bring you a resume to fill out tomorrow, and you can give it to me to pass along on Monday.”
“Okay! Thanks so much Ludwig, you don’t know how much you’re helping me out here!” Alfred said gratefully. The gratitude just seemed to embarrass Ludwig further, making even the tips of his ears glow red as he motioned Alfred out of the room with his hand.
After that, Alfred was even more energetic than usual. He just couldn’t wait for Ivan to come around so that he could tell him the good news.
000
Taking a deep breath, Alfred steeled himself for what was probably one of the more difficult parts of his escape plan. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door to Arthur’s floor. He had to ask Arthur about his debt; he knew what Matthew’s tuition was, and knew now that what the two of them together put toward it had more or less covered the past few month’s payments completely so they didn’t really need Arthur anymore. This was just the last piece of the puzzle.
Arthur opened the door a moment later, looking for all the world like the average landlord. It always threw Alfred off to realize that Arthur was smaller than him, and drank tea out of dainty porcelain cups, and knitted. Arthur, who could seem so big and imposing and like he owned the whole world, couldn’t cook to save his life. Alfred supposed that was why he found it hard to completely hate Arthur; the man was just too human to him.
“Huh, this is a surprise,” Arthur said, before stepping out of the doorway. “Well, come in then.”
Alfred did as told and took a seat in the parlor, which was thankfully empty of all other tenants, who were probably sleeping or working. He answered coffee when asked if he wanted tea and poked fun at the new embroidery project Arthur was working on, since being insufferable toward Arthur was probably one of the greatest pleasures in his life and his only real way to get back at the other.
“You’re a right prat, I’ll have you know,” Arthur said as he placed a mug down in front of Alfred.
“Well, I do try,” Alfred replied, pretending to be pleased with the insult. Arthur just rolled his eyes, sinking into the armchair across from Alfred.
“So what are you here for, aside from annoying me? Usually you sleep through Sundays.”
Alfred froze for a moment, hating how Arthur always got straight to the point. Alfred took a long gulp of his coffee, which was really too hot to be drinking in the first place, trying to round up his courage and just ask.
“I…” ‘You can do it Al, you can do it! You’ve got to do it!’ “I’m just… curious. About my, uh… financial situation. I just figured it’s something I should start keeping up with.”
Upon hearing the question, Arthur’s eyes became cold. “A business visit, then,” Arthur said with a sigh as he stood up from his chair. “Come with me, I keep your records in my office.”
Alfred got up, leaving the too-hot coffee behind. He was nervous, incredibly nervous. He had no idea how much he owed Arthur and was dreading finding out. Moreover, he was pretty sure he’d darkened Arthur’s mood and was not looking forward to the repercussions of that. So he stood awkwardly in the door while Arthur fished around for his file, too afraid to step too far into the room until Arthur told him to, at which point he was too scared not to.
“Let’s see,” Arthur muttered as he opened up Alfred’s file on his desk. Pulling out a stack of papers, Arthur started looking through them, his finger following the rows of text. “Your first seven months here were largely unproductive, that’s where you really ran your debt up. After that, you started making enough for me to start paying some of Matthew’s tuition on your own. Then after a year you got that outside job, which really helped you out… Still, it wasn’t until just a few months ago that you and Matthew closed the gap and managed to start paying on your own… That leaves you with...Around 16,000 dollars worth the debt.”
Alfred let out a huge breath upon hearing the number; it was somewhat less than what he made a year working for Ludwig. The number seemed terribly high to him, but it wasn’t impossible. Letting out another deep breath, Alfred moved to leave the office. “Thanks, that’s all I needed to know.”
“Why did you need to know?”
‘Damnit.’
“Huh? No reason in particular,” Alfred said, trying to wave the issue away. Arthur was not so easy to fool.
“You’re up to something. Don’t think I haven’t realized that you’re staying out late and leaving early again. What silly plans are you making in that pretty little head of yours?” Arthur’s stare was burning into his back, right between his shoulder blades, demanding Alfred turn back to him and sit down. Reluctantly, Alfred did just that.
“Nothing, I’m just meeting with some friends from work. I’m allowed to have those, right?” Alfred asked, a hint of spite working its way into his voice. Arthur made a sympathetic expression, walking around his desk to sit on the arm of the chair Alfred was in.
“Of course dear, I just worry for you is all. It was devastating to me to see how upset you where after the… incident with that Russian friend of yours.”
‘Oh really? You seemed happy as a clam to me.’
Arthur brought a hand to his face, gently stroking his cheeks, keeping steady eye contact with him. “I don’t mean any harm when I say this, but Alfred those people out there just wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t see how you work so hard for your baby brother, they’d just see a whore. If you told them, would they still care for you? Would they accept you as readily as I do?”
“They…I don’t know,” Alfred said, because as much as he’d like to think they would, he wasn’t sure how much of that was just wishful thinking. Could sweet, sensible, honest Toris accept that Alfred did such dishonest work? Feliks might just laugh at the irony of it. Ludwig, upstanding citizen that he is, would report him to the police, which in the end wouldn’t make a difference because Alfred was well acquainted with the city police chief’s neither regions and would just be handed back to Arthur. Feliciano would cry.
“You poor boy,” Arthur murmured, slinking down into Alfred’s lap. “You can’t trust anyone out there. Those horrible, holier-than-thou people who would just look down their noses at you. They don’t understand, not the way I do, they way we in this house do. Why, if they didn’t abandon you altogether, it would only be to use you themselves. I’ve seen it happen; they run to someone they think is safe, only to be locked up and used even worse than before.”
Alfred tried not to listen, fought with himself not to believe Arthur’s words that so mirrored his own insecurities and fears. It wasn’t true, it wasn’t. Ivan had listened to his story even when he didn’t need to, and was even helping him without asking for anything in return! If even Ivan could forgive him and, and help him, then surely others could too.
“I know the desire to believe otherwise is strong, dear boy, but we must be honest with ourselves, yes? You’ll make terrible mistakes if you lie to yourself. You’ll make mistakes like lying to me.”
Despite himself, Alfred could feel himself starting to shake. Quickly, as though to sooth him, Arthur wrapped his arms around him and began running his hands up and down Alfred’s broad back. “Shh, it’s alright. I know the truth is sometimes hard to swallow, but don’t worry. You’ll always have me, even when those horrid outsiders turn their backs on you and try to use you.”
Alfred tried to convince himself that he wasn’t comforted by this at all, that he didn’t believe any of this so none of it hurt him so he didn’t even need to be comforted in the first place. Arthur was a liar and he knew it, he knew it, now he just had to believe it, then he could stop believing everything the other said.
“You’re such a sweet boy,” Arthur murmured against his neck, before moving up to touch his lips to the corner of Alfred’s eye. “So fragile and dirty. Other people would leave you for those things, step over you like a shard of glass on a beach, but they just make me love you more. I just want to collect all of you, to admire your broken beauty the way no one else will. My sweet, beautiful boy, it’s best for you to stay here.”
One shuttering breath, then two, and Alfred was just so close to giving up and believing everything all over again, when suddenly there was a knock on the door. Alfred thanked his lucky stars for the excuse to get up and leave, hardly caring when his movements nearly threw Arthur onto the floor.
“It-it seems you’ve got other co-company. I’ll l-l-let them in and leave you to it,” Alfred said quickly and made his way to the door. When he opened it, he saw the surprised visage of Francis, who made a move to stop him, likely to question him, but Alfred was already practically running down the hall, desperate to escape before he could be called back.
“You know,” Francis said, his expression a complicated mix of heavy emotions. “I think turning that boy is the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.”
“…Shut up, frog.”
000
Alfred spent the first part of his trek to Ivan’s apartment complex trying to calm down and stop running like the devil was on his heels. He did only once his lungs were burning and his legs simply refused to go any faster than a slow walk. Quickly, he fumbled for his cell phone and the piece of paper that had Ivan’s number and address on it. Flipping his cell open, he punched in the numbers, deleted what he typed a few times because his hands were too shaky to type the right numbers in, and tried again until he got it right. He waited impatiently for the little click that would let him know when Ivan picked up, and once he heard it, started talking right away before anything else could be said.
“Hi, Ivan? It’s Alfred,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Alfred? You do not sound well.”
“I’m uh, just kinda outta breath. Might’ve run a few miles. Hey, is it okay if I… come over a bit early? I know I’m not supposed to for another, another hour or so but-“
“-It is fine. You will tell me what is wrong then?”
“Uh, yeah. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Alright. I’ll be expecting you.”
“Yeah, g’bye.” Alfred hung up and sped up from a walk to a jog, making his legs most upset with him. He had to get to Ivan’s place, and there Ivan would help him and not ask for any sort of favors, especially not that sort of favor and Alfred could rest assured knowing that Arthur was wrong and that house wasn’t the only place for him.
He slowed down when he finally reached the part of town that he wasn’t completely familiar with, which happened to be the area Ivan lived in. He tried to make himself look like he belonged there, even when he had to ask directions. Eventually, he saw a group of tall buildings shooting out from the horizon and knew he’d found the place.
Looking up at the huge apartment complex in front of him, Alfred felt incredibly intimidated. This feeling did not diminish when he reached the front door and tried to figure out which button he was supposed to push to get in the building. It only mounted as he entered the building, with its nice, clean hallways, the tasteful wallpaper and carpets that were the same on every single floor, so unlike his own building where only the first two floors were taken care of. By the time he was outside of what he presumed to be Ivan’s door, he was almost sick with nerves. Hesitantly, he knocked once, then again, and considered knocking a third time but the sound seemed to him to ricochet off of the walls terribly so he refrained.
“Добро пожаловать, Alfred.” Nothing had ever set him so at ease as that little bit of Russian had. With a relieved exhale he greeted Ivan and was brought into the other’s apartment.
“It is small, since only I live here. I hope this is not problem,” Ivan said as Alfred took off his shoes by the door. Once he was done he took a second to look around at what Ivan was calling “small.”
“Ivan, my apartment consists entirely of one bedroom and a bathroom, both of which could fit into your living room. Shut up.”
“My, telling your host to shut up? Such bad manners,” Ivan chastised jokingly. Embarrassed, Alfred went red up to his ears and muttered a small, “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Would you prefer to work in the kitchen or the living room?”
“Uh… Living room. It seems comfier,” Alfred said, moving into the center of the living room and sitting on the floor by the coffee table gingerly, as though he thought the furniture would be contaminated by his slightest touch.
“You need not be so tense Alfred, my house will not eat you,” Ivan said, noticing how careful Alfred was being.
“You sure?” Alfred asked, “’Cause your coffee table’s looking pretty hungry to me.”
Ivan rolled his eyes before he disappeared into what Alfred could only assume was his bedroom or office. He came back with all the resumes they’d collect over the past few weeks, the one Ludwig had given him the day before right on top of the pile. Alfred took that one first and read it over, his eyebrows rising just a bit with every line.
“This… does not look like any resume I’ve ever filled out before,” Alfred said, feeling amused. Sure, it asked the basic set of personal information questions, but then it went on to ask about his favorite animals (which he supposed made some sense, all things considered), his opinions on beer and wurst, and how awesome he felt on a daily basis. Alfred would’ve assumed that Ludwig was pulling some sort of elaborate prank on him, except that well, it was Ludwig. Alfred filled it out happily, hardly being able to imagine a manager that would seriously pass out such a resume.
They sat together around the coffee table for a while, Alfred filling out resumes and Ivan looking them over, pointing out spelling mistakes and things he might want to revise to make himself sound better. Before he even knew it, Alfred was already starting to feel comfortable, relaxing and feeling less like some sort of leper who wasn’t supposed to touch anything. It was not long, maybe an hour or two, before he’d gone through the entire stack and was leaning back against the couch, feeling much, much better about the world as a whole. He was pretty sure normal people didn’t enjoy filling out resumes so much, but he was rather resolved to the fact that he was not normal.
Of course, he never was allowed to feel particularly warm and fuzzy for long. This time, his good feelings were spoiled by Ivan asking, “So, why did you come here early? You sounded very upset on the phone.”
Alfred sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back so that that curve of his neck matched the curve of the couch. “I asked Arthur how much I owe him today. He knows I’m up to something, an’ I don’t know if it’s ‘cause of anything I did or if he’s just paranoid about it, but he seems to suspect I’m leaving.”
“Well you are,” Ivan said after a moment’s pause. “And no amount of suspicion can stop you from doing so, correct?”
“R-right,” Alfred replied, trying to forget Arthur’s poisonous words (‘They’d just see a whore,’ ‘If they didn’t abandon you altogether, it would only be to use you themselves,’ ‘it’s best for you to stay here’).
“You do not sound so sure,” Ivan remarked, looking concerned.
“I-It’s just, he-he’s got of way of saying j-just what he needs to, to make me doubt myself,” Alfred muttered, bringing his knees closer to himself. “He says things like, it’s not good for me to leave, a-and that no one who-who knows what I am would, would stick around unless… unless they wanna use me themselves an-and I know it’s not true but, but I’m so used to believing it, to living it-!”
“Alfred,” Ivan called, cutting though his rambling. “I am here now, да? I am here and not using you, so do not listen to that man, he is using your insecurities against you.”
Sighing, Alfred moved over until he was close enough to lean against Ivan. “I know, I know you won’t do that to me.”
“Right.”
Ivan moved as though to wrap his arms around Alfred, perhaps hoping to comfort him but right then he didn’t want that, was almost afraid of anything more than what he was doing. Shaking his head against the movement, Alfred said, “Don’t. I just wanna lean on you for now.”
“That’s fine. Do you mind if I ask you another question though?”
“Shoot, big guy.”
“Where are you going to live once you leave?”
Alfred thought for a moment, before letting out a long breath. “No idea, really. I just sort of figured I’d find another apartment somewhere. I should probably jump on that, huh?”
“Actually, I was wondering if you would just want to share this one?” Ivan asked, hesitantly. “There is a spare room and I understand that you are not comfortable being dependant on others, so we could split the rent evenly and talk to the landlord about adding your name to the lease-“
“Wait, wait, wait!” Alfred demanded, practically falling over himself to move from Ivan’s side to his front. “You-You’re asking me to move in with you? You realize you haven’t even known me for a year, right?”
Ivan blushed, and Alfred reveled in the fact that for once, it wasn’t him who was feeling awkward and embarrassed. “I am sorry if I have asked an untimely question-“
“Untimely? Nah, it’s perfect timin’, but, do you really want to live with me? I-I mean I’m a slob and a bit of a work-a-holic an-and a, well, a soon-to-be ex-prostitute and I’m paranoid and skittish and just a mess, really. Do you really wanna share an apartment with that?”
Ivan, rather than looking deterred, seemed more amused by the list than anything. “As long as you are willing to live here, I think I can adapt. The question is do you want to?”
Well, damn all that not-hugging business to hell. “Of course you idiot!” Alfred nearly shouted, knocking the other man down to the floor he hugged him with so much energy.
“You’re the best! I promise to not leave my stuff lying around everywhere and I’ll always put the cap on the toothpaste, and I’ll take my shoes off at the door and, and-“ Alfred’s rambling was impeded by two lips against his, the smile on them obvious as it pressed against his lips. Instinctively he pressed back against them, reveling in the affection.
‘They run to someone they think is safe, only to be locked up and used worse than before.’ Suddenly that terrible voice rang through his mind. He scrambled to get his joy back, the utter happiness he had felt not seconds before at the thought of being wanted and cared for, for no other reason than just because. It slipped through his fingers, leaving behind nothing but the hard-learned knowledge that people just didn’t want him for nothing, he had to work for it. Always and without exception.
He wanted Ivan to be happy though, right? Ivan would be happy if he gave more and Ivan wouldn’t stop wanting him if he did, right? That was how it worked, that was how it had worked for a long time now. He just had to remember that and do his best to make Ivan happy.
Oblivious to Alfred’s inner turmoil, largely because the younger blond hadn’t stopped kissing him senseless, Ivan allowed his grip to fall on the younger blond’s hips. He was pleasantly surprised by it when Alfred’s tongue flicked out to lick his lower lip and their kiss was deepened; Alfred had always been fairly chaste with him so this was something new. This was far from his first game of tonsil tennis, but Ivan was so caught up in the newness of doing this with Alfred that he almost didn’t notice how Alfred’s arms had wormed their way between them, how his fingers were deftly unbuttoning his shirt, despite the fact that Alfred wasn’t looking down to see what he was doing.
As Alfred slid down his front, nipping and kissing at his collar bone and chest, Ivan’s hands slid up his body, under his shirt and over his sides and lower back. Cautiously his fingers skimmed over the skin revealed to them, reveling in the soft feel until they passed over a strange bump. Curiosity piqued, he explored some more, finding numerous other strange rises on the man’s skin, not stopping until he finally realized just what those oddly-shaped bumps were. They were scars.
Gently but with growing concern Ivan pushed Alfred away from him, pulling up Alfred’s face so he could see his eyes. A cold knot twisted his stomach when he saw what he was dreading; Alfred’s eyes were dull and unseeing. He wasn’t with Ivan anymore, and what worried Ivan more is that he didn’t know exactly where Alfred was. Scrambling out from under the other man, Ivan cursed himself for thinking that everything was okay just because Alfred was initiating contact.
“Alfred, Alfred, look at me,” Ivan said, carefully leaning the younger man, who seemed so utterly lost now without the anchor of touch, against the couch. “Come back Alfred, please.”
Awareness slowly slipped back into those dull blue irises, bringing them to life again. For a moment he looked a bit disoriented, before his eyes latched onto Ivan’s face. His eyebrows drew together and a half-frown, half-pout formed on his face.
“You’re lookin’ at me funny. Why?”
“Alfred, what just happened? One minute you were here, and then you were-“ Not here and far, far away, running away into his own mind. The knot in Ivan’s stomach tightened.
“What d’ya mean, what just-“ The truth dawned on him suddenly, cutting him off mid-sentence. Alfred’s face crumpled and though he hid it behind his hands, it was too late to hide the expression from Ivan.
“I-I’m sorry. God, I’m s-such an idiot…!”
“Shh,” Ivan soothed, taking Alfred’s hands away from his face, only to replace them with his own bigger palms. “You are not an idiot, please do not be upset. I just want to know what that was. Will you tell me?”
Taking a deep breath, Alfred closed his eyes and relaxed fully against the couch behind him. “I-When I was new to the, the business-I dealt with it p-poorly. My friend-I think? He’s got the room across from mine, at any rate. He told me it… it gets easier when you don’t think about it. S-so I don’t. I, I trace the way back h-h-the way back home, the one in Virginia, i-in my mind most times.”
Ivan’s heart sunk at the words; that damned business had ruined physical intimacy for Alfred, had taken the affection out of it and replaced the warmth with a fervent need to escape, even in a situation where there was a genuine and mutual caring involved.
“And the scars?” Ivan blurted out before he could stop himself, anger and sorrow creating a bitter mix within him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to find them, but…”
Alfred inhaled sharply at their mention. “The people who… who come to see me. They do things to me that they don’t-can’t do to people. They’d get in trouble if they did but-well, I can’t go running to the police, can I? So it’s okay.”
“It is not okay!” Ivan nearly shouted, surprising them both. Realizing that raising his voice probably hadn’t been the smartest of moves, what with how skittish Alfred looked, he tempered his indignity until he felt he could speak at a normal volume again.
“It’s not. You are a person too, so they should not do these things to you.”
“Yeah, tell that to the people who do it,” Alfred said with a derisive snort. That angry, destructive cold was building up in Ivan again and he was desperate to unleash it on the people who had made Alfred this way.
Suppressing his anger, he instead looked deep into Alfred’s eyes and said with as all the conviction he could muster, “I do not know if you still wish to live here after this… situation. But know that if you do, I will not harm you and I will not ask you to do something like this again unless you want to.”
Alfred seemed to spend a moment searching his features for any possible deception. “I…I still want to live here. I just… thought that you would be happy if I-“ Alfred stopped himself there, turning his eyes away in shame.
“Such things mean little to me unless you want them too. Go at your own pace, I will not rush you.”
Alfred stared back up at him again, his eyes touched with a hint of tears. Quickly, before any tears could fall away from his eyes, he leaned forward into Ivan’s front, burying his face in the other’s shoulder. “Y-you’re just… W-wow. What’d I ever do to, to deserve you, big guy?”
“You deserve this without doing anything,” Ivan murmured in response, running his hand over Alfred’s hair. “You deserve good things just because you exist.”
<-Last chapter / Next chapter->
Author/Artist: Sayasama
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Russia/US, and an "It's complicated" UK->US. Minor pairings include: LietPol (platonic), Netherlands/Canada, and GerIta. France and Prussia also make some appearances later.
Rating: PG-13 (maybe M) for sexual themes, some swearing, and later allusions to violence.
Warnings: Prostitution and the psychology thereof, psychological abuse, Dub-con and/or non-con depending on how you define the terms, swearing, and OOC.
Summary: "'Tis the strumpet's plague/To beguile many and be beguiled by one"-Iago; Othello, Act 4, Scene 1
A/n: Just one more chapter after this! Oh, this went by too fast.
-----
Before separating, they decided that Alfred needed to gather all the information he could about his situation: how large his debt was and the rate at which it grew, how much Matthew’s college payments were, how much Alfred currently made altogether and how much it actually covered. Meanwhile they would both look for jobs that Alfred could take on once he’d left the bordello for good. They would try to decide whether Alfred could pay off his whole debt alone after that because trust or no trust, he wanted to do it on his own. He had to prove to himself that he could do it all by himself, that he could stand on his own even if he didn’t need to. Then and only then would he feel truly comfortable relying on others.
It was this very mission that had him up at eight in the morning when the majority of the third floor was asleep after a long night of work. Spread out around his bed was a collection of job ads he’d taken from the newspapers Toris left in the break room every day. He was in for a long morning of sorting through ads and deciding on which ones he would look into, before carefully hiding any evidence of his plans. He couldn’t let anyone find out about this, it would inevitably reach Arthur’s ears if anyone did and the last thing Alfred needed was Arthur telling him that it was a dumb and futile effort. He had a bad habit of believing Arthur when he said those things. (Of course, Arthur could do worse but Alfred wasn’t going to think about that now.)
Sighing, Alfred cut out another ad that piqued his interest, only to yelp when he nearly cut his own finger in the process. ‘Damn, I’m way too tired if I can’t even use regular scissors without hurting myself,’ Alfred thought, gathering up the newspaper clippings and putting them in a box. He was moving off of his bed when someone knocked on his door. The sound caught him unaware and tired as he was, he lost balance and tumbled onto the floor, causing a racket and spilling the contents of his box as he went.
Whoever was at the door heard the sound and barged in to investigate. Groaning in pain and very much considering just sleeping where he was, Alfred fought the urge to do just that and instead cracked open his eyes to see Francis hovering over him in worry, looking just as tired as he felt.
“What are you doing up at such an hour Alfred?” Francis asked, as though all normal people slept through the day.
“I could ask you the same question Franny,” Alfred replied, rubbing the back of his head. “And why the hell is it that whenever you come into my room lately I fall?”
Gently, Francis helped Alfred sit up again. “I don’t know, but if you call me Franny again I will kick you.”
“You’d kick me when I’m down? Bastard,” Alfred said distractedly, his eyes looking around his floor to take in the mess he’d made. The papers had slid out of their box and a few of the ad clippings had scattered about the floor, but it wasn’t a terrible mess. Now he just had to clean them up before Francis got a really good look at any of it.
“What were you doing up so early anyway? I have never known you to be this much of a morning person,” Francis asked curiously. Alfred shrugged and turned his back to the Frenchman, shoving the newspapers back into their box unceremoniously; he could sort through it all again another morning.
“I couldn’t sleep, s’all,” Alfred said, quickly looking around the spill area to see if he’d missed anything. As far as he could tell he hadn’t.
“And what are you trying so hard to hide right now?”
Damnit. “I’m not hiding anything. It’s just yesterday’s news. I figured it’d put me to sleep,” Alfred lied, getting up to put the box away in his closet, which happened to house his numerous boxes of (mostly free) video games generously donated by a certain otaku client of his. Inwardly, Alfred thought that might be the only part of this job he would miss.
“Uh-huh,” Francis mumbled as he walked over to the area that Alfred had just moved away from. On the ground, roughly where Alfred’s knee had been, was a small paper clipping that he had missed. Francis picked it up, inspected it, then shoved it into Alfred’s face the moment the younger man had turned back to him.
“What, pray tell, is this? Why do you need another job? You are killing yourself with your workload as it is.”
Cursing himself to hell for his imperceptiveness, Alfred scrambled for an excuse to give the older man. “I’m just looking for something that pays better than what I’ve got.”
“Better than what? That café or this place?” Francis asked accusingly. That Alfred couldn’t bring himself to answer right away was answer enough.
“Are you out of your mind? You are doing this for Mattieu are you not? Arthur is not so charitable as to keep paying the boy’s tuition if you decide to run away!”
“That’s why I’m looking for a second job! I can find a place that pays better than this, and Matt’s got his own job now, so together we can pay it ourselves!” Alfred said, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. He didn’t want to have this conversation. If anything, he wished Francis would just say that he’d keep his mouth shut about it and leave.
“And what of your debt? Where will you even go? Have you planned this out at all?”
“Well that debt is only growing as long as I depend on Arthur to pay for Mattie’s schooling! And maybe I don’t know where I’ll go but this isn’t the only place with rooms for rent!” Alfred hissed out, wanting to yell but not wanting to wake anyone else up and call attention to himself.
Sighing, Francis moved back to sit on the side of Alfred’s bed and gestured for Alfred to do the same. He complied hesitantly. “It is not that I want you to stay here forever, unhappy as you are. This just seems very reckless to me. You are bad at lying and sneaking around and our dear sourcils is very perceptive. He will not let you leave so easily.”
“Well it’s not like I’m asking his permission,” Alfred mumbled petulantly. “But that’s the thing, you see? It’s not the money keeping me here, and it hasn’t been the money for a long time. It's not even Arthur, really. It’s been me, thinking that I didn’t deserve to leave, thinking that this was the only way to be worth something to someone, that I couldn’t live on my own. But it’s not Francis, and I know that now. Please don’t tell me that I can’t do this.”
For a moment they sat quietly, Francis scrutinizing his pleading but determined expression until he was satisfied with what he saw. “If you are sure, then I will not breathe a word of this to anyone. Just please plan a bit more before you leave? It would be a shame if you left here, only to end up living in a cardboard box.”
Alfred sighed in relief. “I don’t see any cardboard boxes in my future, don’t worry.”
000
From:
Alfred Williams-Jones
To:
Matthew Williams-Jones
Hey! I know I called and all already, but got home safe and everything so don’t worry!
This is kinda out of nowhere, but just how much are each of your payments? I forgot. And you said you’ve got a job too now, right? How much of that goes to paying off your tuition, exactly? I know these are kind of weird questions, but I just sort of thought that it’s something I should know, ya know? Kinda silly of me to lose track of it.
Well, I haven’t been home long enough for anything to actually happen sooo… That’s it!
Miss you already bro,
Al
000
For the past two weeks, their “dates” haven’t really been dates. Alfred still met Ivan in the park and they still talked about all manner of things, but now they did so over newspaper clippings instead of cakes. Ivan was looking through job ads for him too, and was going out of his way to pick up job applications for him whenever they decided he should go for one.
“Damn, it’s impossible to fill these things out like this,” Alfred muttered, attempting to fill in one of the application forms on his knee. His leg wasn’t the most effective of writing surfaces, and the wind was making the pages flutter like crazy. It didn’t help that the late winter cold was numbing his fingers and making his nose runny either.
“Perhaps next time we should find somewhere indoors to work?” Ivan suggested, though he seemed completely unfazed by the cold. Alfred wrote it off as him just being so incredibly Russian that the cold couldn’t possibly bother him, and continued to struggle with the paper in front of him.
“Yeah, but the only places open are like, drive-thrus and drug stores and stuff.”
“Then bring them home to work on?”
“They might be found though.”
“Then we will go to my home?”
“That-Wait, your place? Like… I can actually visit your house and stuff?” Alfred asked, looking equal parts surprised and sheepish.
“Apartment, and yes, you may. It would be easier to work there than here.”
“Seriously? Cool!” Alfred exclaimed, leaning over to hug Ivan in his excitement. For a moment, Ivan seemed frozen in shock, which Alfred didn’t understand because as hesitant as he was about physical intimacy beyond innocent kisses, he was pretty liberal with hugs once he knew a person. He worried for a moment that maybe Ivan didn’t want him to touch him anymore, maybe he thought Alfred was too disgusting to touch or infected, but then he responded by wrapping his arms around his waist. Relieved, Alfred melted against the older man, taking comfort in the strength he could feel in Ivan’s form.
They both tensed right up again though the moment the alarm on Alfred’s cell phone (which he was definitely throwing into the river when all of this was done) went off. Alfred knew it wasn’t just his own stomach that fell to the ground when it went off now, since they both knew what he was going home to. Rigid and mechanical, he disentangled himself from Ivan and shut off the alarm.
“Sorry. I… I’ll be out of this soon though, I promise. I’ve just gotta land another job, right?” Alfred asked, shaky and unsure. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Ivan, and instead just gathered up the things they’d brought.
“да. You will not have to go back to that place soon.”
“Right. Um, I guess I’d better go now. Bye Ivan,” Alfred tried to sound more upbeat than he felt as he waved over his shoulder at the other.
“…Goodbye, Alfred.”
000
“Hey Ludwig, can I come in?” Alfred asked through the door to Ludwig’s office. He heard an affirmative answer and was let in a moment later by the ever-cheerful Feliciano. Ludwig motioned for him to sit down in front of his desk and Alfred complied with a bit of hesitance. He knew that Ludwig, for all that he looked like a former Marine, was really a nice guy and was an even nicer guy when Feliciano was in the room (because Feliciano got sad when Ludwig was angry or mean and Ludwig didn’t like it when Feliciano was sad). Still, the guy did look pretty darn intimidating.
“What is it, Alfred?” Ludwig asked, sounding tired as ever.
“It’s nothing big, I just wanted to ask if you would mind if I put you down as a contact on some job applications I’m filling out?” Alfred asked quickly, nervous about the answer. Ludwig was a busy man, busier than your average pastry chef should really be, and he probably wouldn’t appreciate the extra calls.
“You’re looking for another job? Is this your two-weeks’ notice then?” Ludwig looked slightly alarmed at the thought-he was understaffed as it was, he didn’t need Alfred walking out too.
“No, no, no! I love it here, wouldn’t even leave at night if you didn’t make me!” Alfred assured (which, all things considered, was true enough). “It’s my second job I’m leaving. Shitty work, shitty boss, shitty hours, shitty pay, you know? So uh… do you mind?”
Ludwig seemed to contemplate something for a moment before speaking. “What sort of work are you looking into?” He asked finally, throwing Alfred off.
“Uh… Anything really, why?” He asked with a bit of confusion.
“Because his brother is looking for help, ve~! Gilbert owns a pet store, it’s really big and has lots of dogs and cats and birds!” Feliciano butt in suddenly. Frankly, Alfred was surprised he’d stayed quiet for as long as he had. “But he doesn’t like the cats much, because they always go after his birds! And there’s one that always sits on his head, but he doesn’t know-“
“-Yes, as Feliciano said, my brother owns a store and is looking for help,” Ludwig cut in before Feliciano could get too far into his babbling. “If you would like, I can talk to him about getting you a job working the morning shift there. It’s in the area, so it should be convenient.”
Excitement shone on Alfred’s face at the offer. “I’d love that! Gosh, you’re totally the coolest boss ever!”
“Yup, he is!” Feliciano chirped, “He’s the best and the nicest, even though he yells a lot and cleans the kitchen even when it’s not dirty and-“
“That’s enough, Feliciano,” Ludwig said, his face burning red. Alfred tried not to laugh. “You can go now Jones, I’ll bring you a resume to fill out tomorrow, and you can give it to me to pass along on Monday.”
“Okay! Thanks so much Ludwig, you don’t know how much you’re helping me out here!” Alfred said gratefully. The gratitude just seemed to embarrass Ludwig further, making even the tips of his ears glow red as he motioned Alfred out of the room with his hand.
After that, Alfred was even more energetic than usual. He just couldn’t wait for Ivan to come around so that he could tell him the good news.
000
Taking a deep breath, Alfred steeled himself for what was probably one of the more difficult parts of his escape plan. Hesitantly, he knocked on the door to Arthur’s floor. He had to ask Arthur about his debt; he knew what Matthew’s tuition was, and knew now that what the two of them together put toward it had more or less covered the past few month’s payments completely so they didn’t really need Arthur anymore. This was just the last piece of the puzzle.
Arthur opened the door a moment later, looking for all the world like the average landlord. It always threw Alfred off to realize that Arthur was smaller than him, and drank tea out of dainty porcelain cups, and knitted. Arthur, who could seem so big and imposing and like he owned the whole world, couldn’t cook to save his life. Alfred supposed that was why he found it hard to completely hate Arthur; the man was just too human to him.
“Huh, this is a surprise,” Arthur said, before stepping out of the doorway. “Well, come in then.”
Alfred did as told and took a seat in the parlor, which was thankfully empty of all other tenants, who were probably sleeping or working. He answered coffee when asked if he wanted tea and poked fun at the new embroidery project Arthur was working on, since being insufferable toward Arthur was probably one of the greatest pleasures in his life and his only real way to get back at the other.
“You’re a right prat, I’ll have you know,” Arthur said as he placed a mug down in front of Alfred.
“Well, I do try,” Alfred replied, pretending to be pleased with the insult. Arthur just rolled his eyes, sinking into the armchair across from Alfred.
“So what are you here for, aside from annoying me? Usually you sleep through Sundays.”
Alfred froze for a moment, hating how Arthur always got straight to the point. Alfred took a long gulp of his coffee, which was really too hot to be drinking in the first place, trying to round up his courage and just ask.
“I…” ‘You can do it Al, you can do it! You’ve got to do it!’ “I’m just… curious. About my, uh… financial situation. I just figured it’s something I should start keeping up with.”
Upon hearing the question, Arthur’s eyes became cold. “A business visit, then,” Arthur said with a sigh as he stood up from his chair. “Come with me, I keep your records in my office.”
Alfred got up, leaving the too-hot coffee behind. He was nervous, incredibly nervous. He had no idea how much he owed Arthur and was dreading finding out. Moreover, he was pretty sure he’d darkened Arthur’s mood and was not looking forward to the repercussions of that. So he stood awkwardly in the door while Arthur fished around for his file, too afraid to step too far into the room until Arthur told him to, at which point he was too scared not to.
“Let’s see,” Arthur muttered as he opened up Alfred’s file on his desk. Pulling out a stack of papers, Arthur started looking through them, his finger following the rows of text. “Your first seven months here were largely unproductive, that’s where you really ran your debt up. After that, you started making enough for me to start paying some of Matthew’s tuition on your own. Then after a year you got that outside job, which really helped you out… Still, it wasn’t until just a few months ago that you and Matthew closed the gap and managed to start paying on your own… That leaves you with...Around 16,000 dollars worth the debt.”
Alfred let out a huge breath upon hearing the number; it was somewhat less than what he made a year working for Ludwig. The number seemed terribly high to him, but it wasn’t impossible. Letting out another deep breath, Alfred moved to leave the office. “Thanks, that’s all I needed to know.”
“Why did you need to know?”
‘Damnit.’
“Huh? No reason in particular,” Alfred said, trying to wave the issue away. Arthur was not so easy to fool.
“You’re up to something. Don’t think I haven’t realized that you’re staying out late and leaving early again. What silly plans are you making in that pretty little head of yours?” Arthur’s stare was burning into his back, right between his shoulder blades, demanding Alfred turn back to him and sit down. Reluctantly, Alfred did just that.
“Nothing, I’m just meeting with some friends from work. I’m allowed to have those, right?” Alfred asked, a hint of spite working its way into his voice. Arthur made a sympathetic expression, walking around his desk to sit on the arm of the chair Alfred was in.
“Of course dear, I just worry for you is all. It was devastating to me to see how upset you where after the… incident with that Russian friend of yours.”
‘Oh really? You seemed happy as a clam to me.’
Arthur brought a hand to his face, gently stroking his cheeks, keeping steady eye contact with him. “I don’t mean any harm when I say this, but Alfred those people out there just wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t see how you work so hard for your baby brother, they’d just see a whore. If you told them, would they still care for you? Would they accept you as readily as I do?”
“They…I don’t know,” Alfred said, because as much as he’d like to think they would, he wasn’t sure how much of that was just wishful thinking. Could sweet, sensible, honest Toris accept that Alfred did such dishonest work? Feliks might just laugh at the irony of it. Ludwig, upstanding citizen that he is, would report him to the police, which in the end wouldn’t make a difference because Alfred was well acquainted with the city police chief’s neither regions and would just be handed back to Arthur. Feliciano would cry.
“You poor boy,” Arthur murmured, slinking down into Alfred’s lap. “You can’t trust anyone out there. Those horrible, holier-than-thou people who would just look down their noses at you. They don’t understand, not the way I do, they way we in this house do. Why, if they didn’t abandon you altogether, it would only be to use you themselves. I’ve seen it happen; they run to someone they think is safe, only to be locked up and used even worse than before.”
Alfred tried not to listen, fought with himself not to believe Arthur’s words that so mirrored his own insecurities and fears. It wasn’t true, it wasn’t. Ivan had listened to his story even when he didn’t need to, and was even helping him without asking for anything in return! If even Ivan could forgive him and, and help him, then surely others could too.
“I know the desire to believe otherwise is strong, dear boy, but we must be honest with ourselves, yes? You’ll make terrible mistakes if you lie to yourself. You’ll make mistakes like lying to me.”
Despite himself, Alfred could feel himself starting to shake. Quickly, as though to sooth him, Arthur wrapped his arms around him and began running his hands up and down Alfred’s broad back. “Shh, it’s alright. I know the truth is sometimes hard to swallow, but don’t worry. You’ll always have me, even when those horrid outsiders turn their backs on you and try to use you.”
Alfred tried to convince himself that he wasn’t comforted by this at all, that he didn’t believe any of this so none of it hurt him so he didn’t even need to be comforted in the first place. Arthur was a liar and he knew it, he knew it, now he just had to believe it, then he could stop believing everything the other said.
“You’re such a sweet boy,” Arthur murmured against his neck, before moving up to touch his lips to the corner of Alfred’s eye. “So fragile and dirty. Other people would leave you for those things, step over you like a shard of glass on a beach, but they just make me love you more. I just want to collect all of you, to admire your broken beauty the way no one else will. My sweet, beautiful boy, it’s best for you to stay here.”
One shuttering breath, then two, and Alfred was just so close to giving up and believing everything all over again, when suddenly there was a knock on the door. Alfred thanked his lucky stars for the excuse to get up and leave, hardly caring when his movements nearly threw Arthur onto the floor.
“It-it seems you’ve got other co-company. I’ll l-l-let them in and leave you to it,” Alfred said quickly and made his way to the door. When he opened it, he saw the surprised visage of Francis, who made a move to stop him, likely to question him, but Alfred was already practically running down the hall, desperate to escape before he could be called back.
“You know,” Francis said, his expression a complicated mix of heavy emotions. “I think turning that boy is the biggest mistake you’ve ever made.”
“…Shut up, frog.”
000
Alfred spent the first part of his trek to Ivan’s apartment complex trying to calm down and stop running like the devil was on his heels. He did only once his lungs were burning and his legs simply refused to go any faster than a slow walk. Quickly, he fumbled for his cell phone and the piece of paper that had Ivan’s number and address on it. Flipping his cell open, he punched in the numbers, deleted what he typed a few times because his hands were too shaky to type the right numbers in, and tried again until he got it right. He waited impatiently for the little click that would let him know when Ivan picked up, and once he heard it, started talking right away before anything else could be said.
“Hi, Ivan? It’s Alfred,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady.
“Alfred? You do not sound well.”
“I’m uh, just kinda outta breath. Might’ve run a few miles. Hey, is it okay if I… come over a bit early? I know I’m not supposed to for another, another hour or so but-“
“-It is fine. You will tell me what is wrong then?”
“Uh, yeah. I’ll see you in a bit.”
“Alright. I’ll be expecting you.”
“Yeah, g’bye.” Alfred hung up and sped up from a walk to a jog, making his legs most upset with him. He had to get to Ivan’s place, and there Ivan would help him and not ask for any sort of favors, especially not that sort of favor and Alfred could rest assured knowing that Arthur was wrong and that house wasn’t the only place for him.
He slowed down when he finally reached the part of town that he wasn’t completely familiar with, which happened to be the area Ivan lived in. He tried to make himself look like he belonged there, even when he had to ask directions. Eventually, he saw a group of tall buildings shooting out from the horizon and knew he’d found the place.
Looking up at the huge apartment complex in front of him, Alfred felt incredibly intimidated. This feeling did not diminish when he reached the front door and tried to figure out which button he was supposed to push to get in the building. It only mounted as he entered the building, with its nice, clean hallways, the tasteful wallpaper and carpets that were the same on every single floor, so unlike his own building where only the first two floors were taken care of. By the time he was outside of what he presumed to be Ivan’s door, he was almost sick with nerves. Hesitantly, he knocked once, then again, and considered knocking a third time but the sound seemed to him to ricochet off of the walls terribly so he refrained.
“Добро пожаловать, Alfred.” Nothing had ever set him so at ease as that little bit of Russian had. With a relieved exhale he greeted Ivan and was brought into the other’s apartment.
“It is small, since only I live here. I hope this is not problem,” Ivan said as Alfred took off his shoes by the door. Once he was done he took a second to look around at what Ivan was calling “small.”
“Ivan, my apartment consists entirely of one bedroom and a bathroom, both of which could fit into your living room. Shut up.”
“My, telling your host to shut up? Such bad manners,” Ivan chastised jokingly. Embarrassed, Alfred went red up to his ears and muttered a small, “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. Would you prefer to work in the kitchen or the living room?”
“Uh… Living room. It seems comfier,” Alfred said, moving into the center of the living room and sitting on the floor by the coffee table gingerly, as though he thought the furniture would be contaminated by his slightest touch.
“You need not be so tense Alfred, my house will not eat you,” Ivan said, noticing how careful Alfred was being.
“You sure?” Alfred asked, “’Cause your coffee table’s looking pretty hungry to me.”
Ivan rolled his eyes before he disappeared into what Alfred could only assume was his bedroom or office. He came back with all the resumes they’d collect over the past few weeks, the one Ludwig had given him the day before right on top of the pile. Alfred took that one first and read it over, his eyebrows rising just a bit with every line.
“This… does not look like any resume I’ve ever filled out before,” Alfred said, feeling amused. Sure, it asked the basic set of personal information questions, but then it went on to ask about his favorite animals (which he supposed made some sense, all things considered), his opinions on beer and wurst, and how awesome he felt on a daily basis. Alfred would’ve assumed that Ludwig was pulling some sort of elaborate prank on him, except that well, it was Ludwig. Alfred filled it out happily, hardly being able to imagine a manager that would seriously pass out such a resume.
They sat together around the coffee table for a while, Alfred filling out resumes and Ivan looking them over, pointing out spelling mistakes and things he might want to revise to make himself sound better. Before he even knew it, Alfred was already starting to feel comfortable, relaxing and feeling less like some sort of leper who wasn’t supposed to touch anything. It was not long, maybe an hour or two, before he’d gone through the entire stack and was leaning back against the couch, feeling much, much better about the world as a whole. He was pretty sure normal people didn’t enjoy filling out resumes so much, but he was rather resolved to the fact that he was not normal.
Of course, he never was allowed to feel particularly warm and fuzzy for long. This time, his good feelings were spoiled by Ivan asking, “So, why did you come here early? You sounded very upset on the phone.”
Alfred sighed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back so that that curve of his neck matched the curve of the couch. “I asked Arthur how much I owe him today. He knows I’m up to something, an’ I don’t know if it’s ‘cause of anything I did or if he’s just paranoid about it, but he seems to suspect I’m leaving.”
“Well you are,” Ivan said after a moment’s pause. “And no amount of suspicion can stop you from doing so, correct?”
“R-right,” Alfred replied, trying to forget Arthur’s poisonous words (‘They’d just see a whore,’ ‘If they didn’t abandon you altogether, it would only be to use you themselves,’ ‘it’s best for you to stay here’).
“You do not sound so sure,” Ivan remarked, looking concerned.
“I-It’s just, he-he’s got of way of saying j-just what he needs to, to make me doubt myself,” Alfred muttered, bringing his knees closer to himself. “He says things like, it’s not good for me to leave, a-and that no one who-who knows what I am would, would stick around unless… unless they wanna use me themselves an-and I know it’s not true but, but I’m so used to believing it, to living it-!”
“Alfred,” Ivan called, cutting though his rambling. “I am here now, да? I am here and not using you, so do not listen to that man, he is using your insecurities against you.”
Sighing, Alfred moved over until he was close enough to lean against Ivan. “I know, I know you won’t do that to me.”
“Right.”
Ivan moved as though to wrap his arms around Alfred, perhaps hoping to comfort him but right then he didn’t want that, was almost afraid of anything more than what he was doing. Shaking his head against the movement, Alfred said, “Don’t. I just wanna lean on you for now.”
“That’s fine. Do you mind if I ask you another question though?”
“Shoot, big guy.”
“Where are you going to live once you leave?”
Alfred thought for a moment, before letting out a long breath. “No idea, really. I just sort of figured I’d find another apartment somewhere. I should probably jump on that, huh?”
“Actually, I was wondering if you would just want to share this one?” Ivan asked, hesitantly. “There is a spare room and I understand that you are not comfortable being dependant on others, so we could split the rent evenly and talk to the landlord about adding your name to the lease-“
“Wait, wait, wait!” Alfred demanded, practically falling over himself to move from Ivan’s side to his front. “You-You’re asking me to move in with you? You realize you haven’t even known me for a year, right?”
Ivan blushed, and Alfred reveled in the fact that for once, it wasn’t him who was feeling awkward and embarrassed. “I am sorry if I have asked an untimely question-“
“Untimely? Nah, it’s perfect timin’, but, do you really want to live with me? I-I mean I’m a slob and a bit of a work-a-holic an-and a, well, a soon-to-be ex-prostitute and I’m paranoid and skittish and just a mess, really. Do you really wanna share an apartment with that?”
Ivan, rather than looking deterred, seemed more amused by the list than anything. “As long as you are willing to live here, I think I can adapt. The question is do you want to?”
Well, damn all that not-hugging business to hell. “Of course you idiot!” Alfred nearly shouted, knocking the other man down to the floor he hugged him with so much energy.
“You’re the best! I promise to not leave my stuff lying around everywhere and I’ll always put the cap on the toothpaste, and I’ll take my shoes off at the door and, and-“ Alfred’s rambling was impeded by two lips against his, the smile on them obvious as it pressed against his lips. Instinctively he pressed back against them, reveling in the affection.
‘They run to someone they think is safe, only to be locked up and used worse than before.’ Suddenly that terrible voice rang through his mind. He scrambled to get his joy back, the utter happiness he had felt not seconds before at the thought of being wanted and cared for, for no other reason than just because. It slipped through his fingers, leaving behind nothing but the hard-learned knowledge that people just didn’t want him for nothing, he had to work for it. Always and without exception.
He wanted Ivan to be happy though, right? Ivan would be happy if he gave more and Ivan wouldn’t stop wanting him if he did, right? That was how it worked, that was how it had worked for a long time now. He just had to remember that and do his best to make Ivan happy.
Oblivious to Alfred’s inner turmoil, largely because the younger blond hadn’t stopped kissing him senseless, Ivan allowed his grip to fall on the younger blond’s hips. He was pleasantly surprised by it when Alfred’s tongue flicked out to lick his lower lip and their kiss was deepened; Alfred had always been fairly chaste with him so this was something new. This was far from his first game of tonsil tennis, but Ivan was so caught up in the newness of doing this with Alfred that he almost didn’t notice how Alfred’s arms had wormed their way between them, how his fingers were deftly unbuttoning his shirt, despite the fact that Alfred wasn’t looking down to see what he was doing.
As Alfred slid down his front, nipping and kissing at his collar bone and chest, Ivan’s hands slid up his body, under his shirt and over his sides and lower back. Cautiously his fingers skimmed over the skin revealed to them, reveling in the soft feel until they passed over a strange bump. Curiosity piqued, he explored some more, finding numerous other strange rises on the man’s skin, not stopping until he finally realized just what those oddly-shaped bumps were. They were scars.
Gently but with growing concern Ivan pushed Alfred away from him, pulling up Alfred’s face so he could see his eyes. A cold knot twisted his stomach when he saw what he was dreading; Alfred’s eyes were dull and unseeing. He wasn’t with Ivan anymore, and what worried Ivan more is that he didn’t know exactly where Alfred was. Scrambling out from under the other man, Ivan cursed himself for thinking that everything was okay just because Alfred was initiating contact.
“Alfred, Alfred, look at me,” Ivan said, carefully leaning the younger man, who seemed so utterly lost now without the anchor of touch, against the couch. “Come back Alfred, please.”
Awareness slowly slipped back into those dull blue irises, bringing them to life again. For a moment he looked a bit disoriented, before his eyes latched onto Ivan’s face. His eyebrows drew together and a half-frown, half-pout formed on his face.
“You’re lookin’ at me funny. Why?”
“Alfred, what just happened? One minute you were here, and then you were-“ Not here and far, far away, running away into his own mind. The knot in Ivan’s stomach tightened.
“What d’ya mean, what just-“ The truth dawned on him suddenly, cutting him off mid-sentence. Alfred’s face crumpled and though he hid it behind his hands, it was too late to hide the expression from Ivan.
“I-I’m sorry. God, I’m s-such an idiot…!”
“Shh,” Ivan soothed, taking Alfred’s hands away from his face, only to replace them with his own bigger palms. “You are not an idiot, please do not be upset. I just want to know what that was. Will you tell me?”
Taking a deep breath, Alfred closed his eyes and relaxed fully against the couch behind him. “I-When I was new to the, the business-I dealt with it p-poorly. My friend-I think? He’s got the room across from mine, at any rate. He told me it… it gets easier when you don’t think about it. S-so I don’t. I, I trace the way back h-h-the way back home, the one in Virginia, i-in my mind most times.”
Ivan’s heart sunk at the words; that damned business had ruined physical intimacy for Alfred, had taken the affection out of it and replaced the warmth with a fervent need to escape, even in a situation where there was a genuine and mutual caring involved.
“And the scars?” Ivan blurted out before he could stop himself, anger and sorrow creating a bitter mix within him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to find them, but…”
Alfred inhaled sharply at their mention. “The people who… who come to see me. They do things to me that they don’t-can’t do to people. They’d get in trouble if they did but-well, I can’t go running to the police, can I? So it’s okay.”
“It is not okay!” Ivan nearly shouted, surprising them both. Realizing that raising his voice probably hadn’t been the smartest of moves, what with how skittish Alfred looked, he tempered his indignity until he felt he could speak at a normal volume again.
“It’s not. You are a person too, so they should not do these things to you.”
“Yeah, tell that to the people who do it,” Alfred said with a derisive snort. That angry, destructive cold was building up in Ivan again and he was desperate to unleash it on the people who had made Alfred this way.
Suppressing his anger, he instead looked deep into Alfred’s eyes and said with as all the conviction he could muster, “I do not know if you still wish to live here after this… situation. But know that if you do, I will not harm you and I will not ask you to do something like this again unless you want to.”
Alfred seemed to spend a moment searching his features for any possible deception. “I…I still want to live here. I just… thought that you would be happy if I-“ Alfred stopped himself there, turning his eyes away in shame.
“Such things mean little to me unless you want them too. Go at your own pace, I will not rush you.”
Alfred stared back up at him again, his eyes touched with a hint of tears. Quickly, before any tears could fall away from his eyes, he leaned forward into Ivan’s front, burying his face in the other’s shoulder. “Y-you’re just… W-wow. What’d I ever do to, to deserve you, big guy?”
“You deserve this without doing anything,” Ivan murmured in response, running his hand over Alfred’s hair. “You deserve good things just because you exist.”
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