Chapter Text
Two or so years ago
Waking up, Ivan was met with the darkness that surrounded his room. Instead of getting up, he laid there, staring into the ceiling above him. It was familiar and comforting, the same old ceiling that he watched when he drifted to sleep; it may be the last time that he gets to do this. The canopy stared back, as if to whisper its own goodbyes.
Getting up was difficult enough as it is, but to know that he would have to leave his home only gave him an extra layer of dread. He did not know why he took this opportunity, he just wanted to put some motion in his life.
Eventually, he got out of his nice warm bed and was embraced by the cold in his room. Ivan forgot to turn the heater on again, and he cursed underneath his breath, absolutely certain that he would not miss this.
As he got ready, Ivan looked out of his window as he wrapped his scarf around his neck, reminiscing at the times when he and his old friends used to run around in those streets, laughing and playing with no care in the world.
“Ваня… (Vanya..”) A soft voice beckoned, it was his sister’s–Katyusha, “завтрак готов. (Breakfast is ready.)”
Breakfast? Ivan felt confused. His family already had a nice dinner the night before, so what was the point of eating together again on the morning of his departure?
Well, he wasn’t foolish. He opened his door, glancing at the hallway with his sisters’ bedrooms and sighing. Of course they would have one last final meal, it was a chance for them to make sure that he was making the correct decision. A chance to try to dissuade him from leaving home. As he walked past the solemn family photos, he swore that he could feel their gazes burn into his back.
America doesn’t have a good reputation, especially in Russia. He knows that, if he didn’t, he wouldn’t have had the opportunity to take this sponsorship. But this notorious infamy is a factor that he didn’t overlook, it was actually what he was looking for.
Entering the kitchen, Ivan was taken aback to see the whole family sitting down, waiting for him. It was intimidating. It wasn’t as if they never sat at a table together, just a bit odd with how early it was. Breakfast was usually the more spacious meal, with only the siblings eating it together, but with everyone there at their seats, it was a reminder of how it won’t be normal for a long while. Maybe never again.
As he sat down to eat, the same questions from the night before were asked, only for him to vaguely reply, putting food in his mouth to excuse his silence. They did raise some good points about his education and how Russia had better and cheaper options, but he isn’t leaving for that. He’s leaving for a change in his life, in his environment. Perhaps it’s warm and nice out there. Perhaps he deserves that nice life.
Ivan warily watches his father as he keeps eating, worried. His gaze was not met, however. The heavy dread in his heart did not falter. It was unnerving–being given up on. He assumed that his father would have not let him go, that he would be forced to stay with no direction in his life; now he had to go to the other side of the world, still with no direction but without his family.
After breakfast, dishes, and a quick brushing of teeth, Ivan stood outside his home and stared at the entrance as he waited for his ride. He wanted to suck it all in his mind, every laugh, every tear shed, and every flinch. He wanted to know that he was strong. He was already eighteen.
No.
He was just eighteen. There was so much life to live, and he needs to be strong to survive all those years, just as he did ever since he was born.
“...Братец? (Big brother?)” A voice cut through the cold breeze. He turned to the sound and was met with his little sister, Natallia alongside Katyushka.
“Наташа..(Natasha..)” He breathes, looking at her. She had the same ashen blonde hair, same nose, and same forlorn expression. She was only a few years younger, but he can't help but still see her as his sweet baby sister. “Прости меня…(I’m sorry).”
They stood there, silent; until Natallia hugged him tight. She’s getting a little taller, he thought to himself, I wonder if she’ll ever grow taller..
“Ох вы двое…Я так старалась не плакать (Oh you two… I was trying so hard not to cry..)” Katyushka sobbed, joining in on the embrace.
He wanted to cry into their arms, he really did, but he had to be strong- oh who was he kidding. Tears were flowing down his face before he could even think about suppressing it. Ivan didn’t expect leaving to feel as painful as staying. In spite of it all, he knows he will miss how safe he felt with his big sister, and how proud he will always feel for his little sister.
As they separated from each other's grasp, his heart ached. When will he have the chance to hug them again? Will they still love him after he figures out who he was? Will they still love him if he had changed? If he can’t keep hiding who he was?
All the questions and pestering did not sway his decision on leaving the nights before, yet he found himself doubting himself now when he looked at his two sisters.
“Я надеюсь что они будут к тебе добры (I hope they are kind to you..)” Katyushka mumbles, getting close to him again attempting to reach for his face. Ivan lowered himself so that she could comfortably hold him, he wished that he was a bit smaller for times like these. “Ты вырос тишь и будешь хорошим мужчиной, Ваня. Я надеюсь они увидят это (You will grow up to be a good man, Vanya. I hope they can see that.)”
He knows who the “they” she was talking about is, and it wasn’t just about the new people he will meet in America, but those who will come with him to America. Regardless, that doesn’t change the way his stomach turns thinking about them. Ivan wanted to focus on this for now, all of that can be for later. He didn’t want to focus on his inevitable reunion at the airport.
“И если они не будут добрыми, тогда они узнают что происходит с теми кто связывается с моим старшим братом (And if they aren’t kind, then they’ll know what happens when they mess with my big brother.)” Natallia scowled, grabbing onto her sister’s arm and leaning on her shoulder. “Да, сестрёнка? (Right, big sister?)”
Ivan laughed, or maybe sobbed? He didn’t know at that point. It was a mix of both, and he laughed harder when Natallia wiped his tears on her sleeve, and even harder when she kissed him on the forehead. The last time she did that was when they were younger, whenever she tucked him into bed. Warm, comfortable, and one of the rare times where he felt safe, where he didn’t feel lonely. He glanced at the sniffling Natallia and ached. He can only hope that she will be alright.
“Надеюсь что там теплее где ты приземлишься (Oh, I hope it’s warmer where you land.)” Katyushka laughed through her tears, finally letting Ivan’s face go. She started adjusting the scarf around Ivan’s neck, the one she gave him a long time ago. “Бог знает как ты ненавидишь холод (God knows you hate the cold.)”
“Мы только можем надеяться (We can only hope.)”
Ivan eventually had to leave, bags in tow, Katyushka helping him. His parents were still inside–thank God–so they didn’t really help. As the car drove away, he tried his best to wave until they were out of sight, and once they were gone, he sat quietly.
Once he arrived at the airport, he knew who he would see, a few of his schoolmates were able to get into the scholarship as well. A specific group of three was there too. Three of his old friends. He didn’t know how he should feel once he saw them again, face to face. Would it be of hate, disgust, hurt, or regret? Should he feel guilt?
He won’t really know until he steps forward and faces…
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Ivan felt his stomach churn as he watched Alfred ruffle Tolys’ hair affectionately, it all felt like too much. That was disgust, alright.
Tolys. His old friend. Talking to Alfred.
He found himself shushing Matthew and kicking the cup he dropped just seconds before as he walked towards the two men, bumping into some strangers he did not care about. Maybe the months of not drinking any alcohol has made him weak, maybe all those bottles of shitty alcohol was enough to make him lose composure. All he felt was bitter rage.
Tolys noticed him almost immediately as Ivan approached. Ivan cannot run away from his past, then neither can he. The look of dread on Tolys’ face must have been obvious, as Alfred turned his head towards the approaching man and smiled. A blissfully ignorant smile, one that Ivan was quite familiar with. If he didn’t know any better, he would assume that he was taunting him. Hell, maybe he was still oblivious to Alfred’s whole deal, because despite his brain knowing that it was a harmless smile–his heart ached as it felt deliberate– as if to mock him for his jealousy.
No. Why would he feel jealous? Why would he be so scared of Alfred not wanting to be friends anymore? Was he really that big of a loser?
“Hey dude! Finally crawling out of your corner, huh?”
Oh, so it was obvious that he retreated, and yet Alfred didn’t check in on him? So much for being a close and trusted friend.
“Well, glad you did!” Alfred kept talking, but then again, when does he ever stop? “Cuz you gotta meet Tolys! He helps me around sometimes AND he speaks Russian! Isn’t that a cool coincidence?”
“Alfred.. I already know...” Tolys mumbled, before Ivan forced out a laugh.
So much for growing up to be a better man. Ivan thinks harshly to himself.
“Nice to meet you, Tolys.” Ivan outstretched his hand for a handshake. It wasn’t the same sweet naive gesture from before, it felt demeaning. “That’s interesting! I haven’t met a lot of Russian speakers here, may you demonstrate for us?” Tolys seemed taken aback as he was treated like a stranger, but he composed himself nonetheless.
“Oh.. Uh, Я не так хорошо говорю по-русски. Но,Я-понимаю когда со мной общаются, хотя бы-» (I don’t speak Russian all that well, But I understand it when I’m spoken to, at least-)” Tolys laughs nervously as he shook Ivan’s hand. It was stiff and clammy, but he held Ivan’s gaze, as if trying to prove that he wasn’t weak.
“Oh? Did you just call me gay?” Ivan gasps sarcastically, lying. “ Are you trying to insult me, stranger?”
The way Alfred’s eyes widened was ridiculous, especially alongside the puzzling look that Tolys gave Ivan. “Dude.. what?!” Alfred frowned.
“What..? That’s not what I said at all!” Tolys says indignantly, violently shaking his head. “I said that I don’t speak Russian well and-”
“Now now, Tolys. You shouldn’t lie, that is rude. You can just apologise.”
“What? But I didn’t say anything like that at all!” Tolys splutters, biting his lip anxiously as he glances at Alfred, who was already shaking his head in disappointment.
Ivan had never felt so much satisfaction in seeing a man look so helpless and flabbergasted other than Tolys. He laughs, heartily.
“Oh, don’t look so afraid. I was only joking.” Ivan turns to Alfred, “Are all of your friends snowflakes? So fragile.”
“So he wasn’t calling you a slur? Thank God.” Alfred let out an exaggerated sigh. “Thought that I would have to stop hangin’ with ya Tol’s, that would have sucked!”
“Haha.. Yeah..”
“Cuz like, I don’t think I would be a good ally if I just hung around homophobic idiots, right? That wouldn’t look good for me at all.” Alfred chuckles, as he nods at Ivan. “Can’t disappoint my gay friends, you know what I mean?”
Ivan only smiles, ignoring Tolys’ brow rising, looking more and more puzzled.
“Broski! There you are, I was waiting for you!” A voice exclaimed. As they all turned to where it came from, it was from a shorter blonde man with a bob, looking distressed and out of breath, probably from running down the stairs.
“Oh Feliks, I was going to..” Tolys sighs, gently grabbing Feliks’ hand and squeezing it affectionately. “Just got distracted..”
The man, Feliks, groans as he finally turns to look at Alfred and Ivan. His expressions changed from anxious to.. Amused. He quickly took his hand away from Tolys, as he raised an eyebrow.
“Oh my, is that like, THE Ivan Braginsky? You big bully, what are you doing here?”
“Oh wow, I didn’t think you’re well known too.” Alfred chuckles, nudging him with his elbow.
You don’t expect anything from me because you think you’re better than me. Ivan thought bitterly.
“Oh of course I know him!” He wraps an arm around Tolys’ shoulder, “We have been knowing him. And I hope you haven’t been teasing poor little Tolys.”
“Haha, yes of course. Poor little Tolys, having to stand up for himself.” Ivan tuts, shaking his head keeping a sweet smile on his face. Normally, he might feel too unnerved at the idea of talking to his old friends, but he feels too giddy to be nervous. It was entertaining. Fun.
Feliks and Ivan persisted, glaring at each other without a word being uttered, that was until Alfred clears his throat awkwardly.
“You know guys, I’m feelin’ kinda hungry.” He groans, patting his stomach. “Ivan, let’s go find something to eat.”
Before Ivan could even utter a reply, Alfred tugged on his scarf sharply. “Hey.. don’t be so reckless with my scarf.” He whined as Alfred pulled them away from the living room, earning a few stares.
“Yeah? And not your neck? Wow dude, you really have your priorities straight.” Alfred whistles, letting go of Ivan’s scarf and putting his hands back in his pockets as they both walk towards the kitchen, passing by the table where Ivan drank his loneliness away. “Who’s that blonde guy?”
“Oh, he’s just Tolys’...” boyfriend? “..friend.” Ivan was unsure if he’d have known that if they were still friends. Though, now that he had a basis on what friendship could be, he realised that they weren’t ever close to begin with.
Alfred looked around the kitchen while humming to himself, till he spotted the cupboards and walked towards it. There were people in the kitchen, drinking and complaining about their professors. They all looked oddly familiar, but neither of the boys cared enough to butt in for an introduction. The mission was to find food to eat, not people to talk to.
“So you knew the two of them? Back in Russia?” He inquired, opening the cupboard to gawk at the amount of snacks displayed before his very eyes. After admiring the sight, Alfred snatched the whole packet of chocolate wafers, carelessly ripping it open.
“I suppose. They moved from abroad and we lived near each another.”
“Seriously?! So like, childhood friends?”
“It was more of a.. high school friendship. Though, I’m not sure if they ever even considered me their friend.” Ivan glanced at Alfred, only to notice that his mouth was full of the wafers, unable to reply. Alfred nudged Ivan with the packet of wafers he was holding, gesturing for him to take one as he chewed. “...Thank you.”
“You really are tipsy, huh?” Alfred chuckles, with his mouth finally empty. “No matter how much I annoy you, you don’t really tell me these kinds of things normally, ‘bout your home and stuff.”
“I am not.” Ivan blushes, embarrassed. He knew that it wasn’t exactly impossible for him to be drunk, especially since he didn’t know how much he drank, but Ivan still wants to be better than them. He anxiously looks over at the dining table where he sulked, noticing several empty bottles of beer; more than anything, Ivan felt ashamed at his lack of self control.. “Are you drunk?”
“Yeah, a little bit I think. Didn’t drink as much as you did, though.”
They fell silent once more. Ivan didn’t know what else to say, and the ever so talkative Alfred was too busy chewing on the wafers that he had shoved in his mouth. The only noises that can be heard from the two of them was Ivan’s loud breathing and Alfred’s insufferable crunching.
“So… Russia was more than just you and your two beloved sisters, yeah?” Alfred said, his mouth finally empty enough to speak without spitting any wafer debris.
“Ofcourse,” he sighed, relieved that Alfred finally broke the silence. “There was snow.”
“Don’t play all coy with me now, I obviously meant more people and shit.”
“Why? Did you not expect me to have any other friends?” Ivan grumbled bitterly, slightly turning his head away from the man.
“Hey, you know that’s not what I meant!” Alfred said, tilting his head to slightly bump on Ivan’s arm, causing the other man’s expression to slightly soften. “You are perfectly capable of talking to people, you’re just a little intimidating to these “snowflakes”, that’s all.” He laughs, air quoting. Ivan flushed at how Alfred was so clearly paying attention to him earlier despite everything. It was humiliating, albeit comforting.
“I suppose.”
“Hah! You get so grumpy sometimes, it’s cute.”
Ivan’s eyes widened, his mouth slightly ajar at the shock from the comment. He kept staring at Alfred, looking for a clue–a hint–on what the man was trying to convey, only to realise he was looking away, as if avoiding Ivan’s gaze.
“What?” Ivan asked, almost too quickly.
“Huh?” Alfred shoved another wafer in his mouth, “But yeah, maybe you gotta lay low on your grumpiness and chill out.”
“...Maybe.” He murmurs, looking away from Alfred, face slightly red.
“Or I’m right and you just gotta find people who’d fuck with you, some people are for everyone, like me, and some people are more… niché. Like you!” The blonde grinned, head finally facing Ivan.
“Oh! So you like to be passed around?”
Before Alfred could make an indignant response, a voice echoed through the house that was loud enough to leave everyone in the party silent, both upstairs and downstairs.
“GILBERT!!!”
The silence that followed was deafening, so deafening in fact that Ivan could hear the footsteps belonging to the man who shouted, alongside some quieter steps that accompanied him. Alfred basically got up to walk towards the living room, with Ivan following suit. Once Ivan Braginsky befriended Alfred F. Jones, an important detail to note is that he is as nosy as he is obnoxious. They stood adjacent to the stairs, which, fortunately, had another table with drinks and a good view of what was going down. Alfred grabbed 2 cups and filled it up, handing one to Ivan–who happily accepted.
“Ohhh! Ludwig, I didn’t expect you to be home so early..!! Haha.” An albino man said, greeting the infuriated one. They both had very familiar faces and German accents.
“That’s the host of the party..” Alfred whispers in Ivan’s ear, subtly gesturing towards the man named Gilbert, “Matthew hangs with him sometimes”. Ivan nodded, still focused on the scene.
“I see.. I actually know the big blonde guy, he’s a…friend.”
Alfred nodded back, still clearly focused on the two brothers.
“What do you mean early?! It is 10 pm on a Wednesday!!" Ludwig sighed, exasperated, comedically pointing at the clock above the entrance.
“Oh you know, early in party terms. Loosen up, have some beer!” Gilbert laughed, offering a beer bottle to the taller man. Ludwig hesitated for a moment as he stared down at it before he rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.
“You dummkopf! It is study time, not party time!”
“Well, to be honest, it’s always study time for a nerd like you. Just have some beer and relax for once!”
“Yeah we should relax! We have been studying nonstop after all!” The shorter Italian man exclaims, looking a lot more excited than his tall and agitated friend, and a lot more expressive than his shorter, quieter friend. “All of this will go to waste, you know~”
The quarrel made Ivan feel at ease, a first from this night. He leaned on the staircase, sipping on his cup. Whether it was the comforting sound of the argument or the familiarity of the man next to him was anyone’s guess, but he felt grateful that he went, even with all the… trouble.
Alfred was sniggering as he watched the men continue to argue, especially when Ludwig looked like he was going to burst a blood vessel. He seemed to enjoy the whole ordeal as much as Ivan, his eyes bright with passion. Everyone else in the room seemed to also be gawking at the dispute, so Ivan knew that this wouldn’t last any longer. Almost on cue, Ludwig looked away from Gilbert to make direct eye contact with him. Ivan didn’t flinch, he simply stared back, a soft smile on his face serving as a greeting.
“Alright. That is enough.” Ludwig breathed, as if trying to gain composure once again. “Everyone, all of you that do NOT live here, Leave. You are no longer welcome.”
“Hey, come on-” Gilbert groaned, watching as everyone else started getting up and ready to go, “-The party hasn’t even started! We can’t just..”
Ludwig sighed again, which earned a giggle from Alfred. “With that many deep breaths, you’d assume that he has asthma or something.” Alfred mumbles. Ivan nods solemnly, as he keeps his eyes on the man scolding Gilbert. They eventually move towards the living room, talking to the same man that Ivan and Alfred talked to earlier–Lovino.
“Yes, but we should probably leave soon.” Ivan says, standing up straight.
“I guess so.” Alfred sighs as he finishes the rest of his drink.
“You didn’t add coke to that one, how do you feel?”
“Dude, I can take my alcohol pretty well. The coke is only for the flavour. No need to worry ‘bout your fave American.”
“Whatever you say, Alfred.” Ivan laughs, watching Alfred grab a bottle of wine from the corner of his eye as they both walk towards the exit, swiftly putting on their jackets. As they opened the door to leave, they were met with the cold autumn breeze. It wasn’t the same freezing cold that he was used to back in Russia. It was tolerable. Once he glanced over to his friend, though, it was obvious that he felt otherwise.
“Not used to the cold, da?” Ivan snickers as he wraps his arm around Alfred’s shoulder, holding him close subconsciously.
Alfred laughs, leaning on Ivan’s shoulder as he shivers. “Yeah, I personally like summer more.” He yawns, then swishes the wine bottle, the glass with clinking against his jacket zipper. “We gotta finish this first, we can’t really bring it to our dorms.”
‘It looks like it’s still sealed.” Ivan observed the cork at the top of the bottle, amused.
“Yeah, which means we can’t let it go to waste.”