Kiss and Swallow

[das_vedanya]

WHO: Ivan and Alfred
WHEN: Friday July 30th, Evening
WHERE: The Green Palace Tea House
WHAT: One chance might be one too many.

Comments

[waitforsuperman]

Alfred jogged through the streets of Liberty, constantly checking his cell-phone clock and every time he saw the time, he'd swear and put on another small burst of speed. Note to self: Naps an hour before a date are very bad ideas.

Making it to the end of the street and slowing his pace, Alfred approached the Russian, chest heaving to breath properly. He heard the snide comment and looked at him sharply, offering a wry smile. "Only for you sweetheart."

He ran a hand through his hair, shoving his glasses up his nose a little. "So where are we goin' anyway?"

[das_vedanya]

"You're lucky I put out my cigarette, or I would be using your forehead as an ashtray," Ivan bit out through Alfred's snide compliment. As his half-lidded eyes scanned Alfred's expression, he mentally covered the American in cigarette burns - and smiled at the implications, the noises that would come from that prideful mouth of his when the flare hissed against his skin.

Ivan carded a hand through his platinum blond locks turned brown from the recent rainfall. A sigh; a less smoky sigh, even if his breath visibly fading in the night could say different. "Alfred, why would I be standing outside a tea house I have no intention of entering?"

[waitforsuperman]

Alfred couldn't swallow past the lump in his throat and instead made a small choking noise. "H-here?" he said weakly, staring up at it and almost remembering Juan's small body and the bed and oh God-

"Sounds... great." he managed, knowing in that instant that the Russian had planned and he'd be damned before a stupid Russki got the upper-hand on him. So what if Ivan wanted to go on a date where Alfred had kissed half the city, he could deal.

[das_vedanya]

"I come here with Yao often," he replied offhandedly. "The tea is delicate, and the coffee is strong. If you had taken me to a Starbucks, then I wouldn't have showed."

The tiny bell interrupted the Russian's last few words as he pulled open the shop door and held it open with a half-hearted politeness.

[das_vedanya]

"I do love to play games," he agreed with a bittersweet smile full of too many teeth, "but yours have always been the oddest of varieties. I know how you work, Alfred F. Jones." Ivan's voice slowed to the opposite tempo of his heartbeat as he brought the cup of still - somehow - steaming tea to his lips (he figured it had something to do with the atmosphere, as it suddenly seemed a few degrees warmer in the tea house.)

He swallowed the last sip of dark-colored water with the same demeanor as he would with a shot glass of vodka, but it burned all the same going down his throat. When he spoke, it was low, just at a volume enough to permeate the murmurs of the other customers. It was seductive, playful, but not without a hint of seriousness and threat - "I am not a pawn on your chessboard, Alfred; I am a king, and I will be treated as such."

[waitforsuperman]

Intertwining his fingers and resting his chin on them, Alfred quirked his head. "You have never been a king Ivan," he said, all pretense of playfulness gone, some his tone simple, cold and quick, his gaze darting around the restaurant, looking for any eavesdroppers, "This is my game and I plan to play it like it's my fucking game."

His voice lowered another octave. "There is only one enemy in this city and that is the mafia and all of their goons. I'd really hate to see you caught in the cross-fire Ivan. You are my queen after all." A pause to sip his tea, "The biggest piece in the game and at the same time the post wanted. I seriously have a hard time believing that I was the only one who saw people outside of our... 'relationship'. Tell me, who have you been screwing since I left?"

[das_vedanya]

"The Queen is easily the most powerful piece - able to move in any direction and at the entire span of the board, ruthlessly taking down those in her way, while the King" - he reached across the table, brushed those cold-as-death fingers across that temperate forehead and felt a thrill rise between them - "has only one move. He can only attack once prompted, and his enemies have to be foolish enough to attack him first, da?"

Ivan found himself adjusting in his seat so he was now sitting on his knee. His elbows, much to the dismay of any rules of table etiquette, pressed firmly against what could arguably be Alfred's side of the table, and he leaned in like a snake preparing to strike until they were a breath's width apart.

"You aren't the hacker you used to be. I would figure that my file would be your first, and not a pesky ex-client of mine. If you had, it would only be minutes until you learned that I slept with Francis Bonnefoy," a slow, sharky grin, "Twice."

[waitforsuperman]

Alfred almost slapped Ivan right then and there. His uncle was low, true, but this? This was... The American forced a smile onto his face, laughing it off and merely shaking his head. "Who hasn't slept with Fran?" he said quickly, eyes sharp, "he's kind of a 'sleeps with everyone' guy."

He found himself also leaning closer. "I figured that I'd know more about you from just our meetings instead of the useless junk in that file of yours. But now... Now I'm tempted Ivan. Here a queen is supposed to stand beside her king, strong, but when she crosses that line and into the battlefield, there's no telling what will happen to her. Is there?"

[waitforsuperman]

The American, not moving his hand from Ivan's, nodded. "That's fine, I get it." he said. In reality he did understand, but that still hurt a bit. Folding his other arm on the table, he rested his head in the crook of it, staring out of the window, still absently drawing all over Ivan's hand.

For a moment, it felt as if this was a normal occurrence. He smiled. "So what, no earth-shattering questions from you?" he teased, talking more to the window than to the Russian.

[das_vedanya]

"'Earth-shattering'?" Ivan repeated as if the word required a smile to pronounce properly. He regarded the American with a twitch of his hand, but did nothing to pull away or reach closer - only keep it in the limbo, the ambiguous borderline, between their sides of the table where they could touch. "All right, Alfred, then let me ask you," a long period of silence passed - in the distance cups clinked together in cheers, tea leaves and water mingled together in porcelain and pots, Ivan could hear his heartbeat in his ears - then he turned toward the window to meet Alfred's eyes somewhere on the glass plane, "Why did you leave?"

[waitforsuperman]

Alfred's hand slowly drew away and returned to his lap, playing with the smallest of tears in the knee of his jeans. He swallowed, blinking at his reflection, then the violet eyes looking back at him. "W-Well..." he started, his voice stuttering and not his own.

"I was scared."

[das_vedanya]

The word coming from Alfred's lips sounded more foreign to Ivan than he imagined to the speaker himself. The now abandoned hand left on the table recoiled, and he felt his fingernails pierce his skin just a layer short of drawing blood in an effort not to show any sign of enjoyment upon hearing this. No, just pity.

And pity was what Alfred got. Because Ivan knew what he feared. What he also got was curiosity. "What were you so afraid of Alfred?"