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

[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."