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Ivan stared up at the performer on stage, mouth agape in what he was sure was a comical fashion. Instead of chastising him as expected, his friend and boss seemed equally enthralled beside him.
“Holy shit, she’s hot. Are we super sure she’s not a woman?” the friend asked.
Ivan hummed in agreement, though didn’t offer further words on the matter. Before them, a star was dazzling the crowd, thick hips and an impossibly thin waist swaying sassily to the peppy country tune. She kicked up her heels—complete with real spurs, and threw out a sultry wink. When she neared the edge of the stage, her lip sync became a serenade to a rather bashful-looking gentleman in the front. Ivan cursed his luck that they hadn’t gotten there early enough to secure that particular spot.
She gathered up bills of numerous denominations—Ivan swore he saw a few hundreds slipped into her waiting hands—before returning back stage, blowing one last kiss with a giggle. He somehow convinced himself that the wink she sent was directed right at him, and he blushed.
The pair had mainly come to scope her out. The legendary Miss Betsy Darla Washington, more commonly known as Miss Betsy—pronounced Mizz, of course. Everyone in the drag community knew of this rising talent thanks to her long run on a well-known drag competition reality show, one which she only managed to win second place in. Many a fan thought she deserved the top prize, so it was easy for her to find employ at the city’s most popular drag club in the months that followed.
Miss Betsy was blessed with her natural beauty coupled with a rather feminine body. A corset brought in her waist and created her famous hourglass shape, but the apple bottom was all natural, no padding required to give her those amazing hips and ass. She used minimal padding up top, preferring to charm with her intoxicating smile and bright eyes, always aglow beneath feathery lashes and dramatic eyeshadow.
Her main draw was her charm, “southern sweetness with an extra dash of sass”, as she liked to call it. While many thought her a bit ditzy in her interviews, there was an air of genuine innocence to her. She laughed easily, making whoever she was talking to feel like the center of the universe for just a moment. Honestly, her only disadvantages were her youth and inability to be ugly, making it difficult for her to portray the less pleasant emotions on stage. However, since her critique from a year before, she had been training and taking acting lessons. No longer was she just a pretty face, but she was also able to convey the feelings of her songs perfectly. It was just unfair how good she was.
Gilbert, Ivan’s friend, groaned. “Damn, there’s no way she’d come work for us. She’s making serious bank here!”
Ivan nodded. Their goal had been to first, confirm Miss Betsy’s talent, and second, convince her to leave her lucrative career in the city center in favor of their much smaller but still well-known club. The biggest problem was their place’s distance from downtown. Their regulars lived nearby, but it was hard for them to draw in newcomers due to expensive cabs and inaccessibility. They had a good act, in Ivan’s slightly biased opinion, along with great girls and cheap drinks, but if they could get Miss Betsy, surely sales would skyrocket. Anyone with an appreciation for beauty would splurge on the transportation to catch a glance of her.
Miss Betsy was followed by another lovely girl, though Ivan hardly noticed her. He was busy strategizing ways to approach the blond with Gilbert when he caught sight of a denim miniskirt in the corner of his eyes. He turned and, sure enough, got an amazing view of Miss Betsy herself, bending over to pick up a stray dollar. She handed it to the patron who must have dropped it, though he waved his hand and insisted that she keep it. They talked for another minute, and she poured him a hefty shot from a bottle of whiskey she was carrying. He bravely threw back the drink, wincing slightly, and she cheerfully patted him on the back.
The moment she turned, she caught Ivan’s eye. He suddenly was very interested in staring at his drink, but he could tell she was heading their way.
“Oh shit,” Gilbert said. “She’s coming over. What do we do?”
“Just be normal for once,” Ivan hissed.
“Howdy boys,” she practically purred. Her voice was even and lyrical, and not too high-pitched that it sounded fake. She spoke with an exaggerated drawl that made every man’s loins ache. “Would you mind helping a girl out tonight?”
Gilbert cleared his throat. “Um, of course. What do you need?”
“Well, my boss told me this here bottle of Daniel’s was set to expire! I said to her, silly goose, liquor doesn’t expire! My daddy used to say it did, but that was only so he could drink a few bottles of wine without gettin’ in trouble. But, she swore on her mama’s life that it does, so it became my patriotic duty to make sure it doesn’t go to waste, see?” She flashed her pearly whites and placed a dainty hand on her cocked hip. “It’s only two bucks a pop. What do ya say?”
“Well, how could we say no when you asked so nicely?” Gilbert grinned. “But only if you join us.”
Miss Betsy giggled. “I’d be delighted. What are y’all’s names?” She brought forth three plastic shot glasses, all of them a different color. She filled them to the brim with the brown liquor before setting the bottle on the small table.
“I’m Gilbert,” he started. “And this is Ivan.”
“Hello,” Ivan said simply.
“I’m Miss Betsy, as you may know. So, what brings you here?” She lifted her shot and signaled for Gilbert and Ivan to do the same. They each knocked back their drink, Miss Betsy gagging slightly and laughing at the taste.
“Well,” Gilbert continued. “This place is pretty famous, you know. We’ve wanted to come for a while, actually, and we had to make sure it was on one of your nights.”
“How sweet!” she beamed. “Where are y’all from?”
“Next town over.”
“You two dating?”
Gilbert laughed. “Nah, Ivan’s straight as they come. We just work together. I have a boyfriend, anyway, but he’s with his wife tonight.”
Miss Betsy raised a brow. “Now Gilbert, I didn’t take you for a homewrecker!”
He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. “It’s a long story,” he explained. “Essentially, it’s a fake marriage to please their families. She’s pretty gay herself.”
“Oh, how interesting!” she laughed. “What about you, Ivan? Got a girlfriend?”
He cleared his throat, finally finding his words. “Um, no. I don’t.” Goddammit, why was he so nervous?
Miss Betsy smirked playfully. “Well, if you get lonely, I’m always available,” she winked. “Anyway, I’m sure I’ll be back to spend more time with you guys. I really do have to empty this bottle, though! Be back!” With that, she skipped off to the next table, retelling her sob story and offering the whiskey to the next patrons.
“Dude!” Gilbert groaned. “Don’t leave me hanging!”
“I don’t know what to do!”
“Flirt! Compliment her!”
“I am straight!”
“She’s a she right now! Don’t act like you’re not interested. You’re staring at her ass right now!”
“I am not!” Ivan turned his attention away from her ass and back to his friend.
“Dude, Roddy would kill me if I flirted too much, but you have nothing holding you back! Just pretend she’s really a woman! It’s not like you have to bang her! Just seduce her, or something. Don’t you have any charm left?” Ivan glared, then sighed.
He certainly had been out of the dating game for a while. He hadn’t even gotten laid in months. Sure, there were plenty of people he met through the club. Working as a bouncer, he saw and approved of every person who entered. In addition, he had good working relationships with many attractive women and men, though as Gilbert said, he hadn’t ever been interested in playing for that team. Of course, having been exposed to such diversity in gender expression since starting his job with Gilbert, he was a bit more open to things, but he hadn’t actually tried anything with men, cis or otherwise.
He didn’t realize he had zoned out and apparently taken on a somber expression until Gilbert shook his shoulder.
“Jesus, take a joke, man! You need some more drinks, I think!”
“Did someone say ‘more drinks’?” Miss Betsy was back, this time with a bottle of vodka. “I’ve got your back,” she winked again.
“You’re a godsend,” Gilbert said. “We need help with this one here,” he gestured toward Ivan.
“Well, I can surely be your hero, sweetie,” she placed two colored glasses in front of them.
“Would you care to join us, again?” Ivan asked. Gilbert flashed him a not-so-subtle grin.
“Why, I’d be honored! A nice couple bought my Daniel’s off me, so I don’t have to worry about that no more. I can sit for a spell till my boss notices me slacking off,” she laughed and placed another glass on the table, filling it with vodka. After filling the other two, they held up their glasses. “To the weekend!” she cheered before swallowing the liquid. Ivan and Gilbert quickly followed suit.
“I’m going to get a beer real quick,” Gilbert said. “You two want anything?”
Ivan handed him his card, “I’ll have a Moscow Mule. And whatever Miss Betsy wants,” he replied.
She grinned. “Thanks, hon! Um, just get me something strong with tequila, I guess!”
“Sure thing!” Gilbert said before heading toward the very packed bar.
“So,” Miss Betsy leaned across the table and batted her lashes. “You’re pretty brave for coming in here, you know.”
“How do you mean?” he instinctively leaned back, but she only moved in closer.
“A handsome guy like you, and single, to boot. You’re lucky you’ve lasted even this long!”
“I think I can take care of myself,” he explained.
“Do you? There’s no shame in asking for help,” she drummed her fingers on the lacquered surface, her fake nails clacking sharply. Ivan blushed as he thought of those nails scraping across his arms, his back… He coughed. “Luckily I’m a nice girl and wouldn’t try anything with someone so innocent as yourself,” she continued. He nodded and she smiled, grabbing two of the used shot glasses and adding more vodka. “This one’s on the house,” she explained. “To new friends!”
By the time Gilbert returned, Miss Betsy and Ivan were much closer, stools pulled next to each other as they giggled at something on Ivan’s phone screen. Gilbert smiled and downed his beer, setting the empty bottle on an abandoned table before joining the pair. He passed them their drinks and set to sipping at his third beer until they finally noticed him.
“Wow, that took a while!” Miss Betsy said.
“Yeah, it’s super crowded!” he yelled back, the music and the crowd almost drowning out his loud voice.
Miss Betsy and Ivan both glanced around and were shocked to find that the club had indeed filled up since they became otherwise engaged.
With Gilbert, they joked around for another hour before Miss Betsy had to leave for the closing act. She gifted Ivan with the remaining vodka left in the bottle as well as a kiss on the cheek, leaving him positively red in the face. Gilbert laughed at his friend’s expense.
“Dude, don’t go falling in love with her! She’s still a guy, you know.”
“Shut up,” he said while sipping at his cocktail.
“Don’t worry, I bet we can get her to join our team! You know that British dude Francis is seeing?” Ivan nodded. “Well, he lives out this way and Francis said he could give us some intel. Figure out what we should say to convince her, you know.”
“When are we meeting him?”
“Lunch time tomorrow, I think. Francis says he’ll probably be super hungover, so we can’t talk to him earlier than that. We’re meeting him at some tea place. So fancy!”
The stage lit up, and they turned their attention to that night’s host. She thanked them profusely for coming, flirted a bit, and then began to dance. As the music quickened, more and more girls joined her. The last was Miss Betsy, her outfit replaced with a garish body-con dress. Despite the sequins and bright color, she pulled it off flawlessly. The closing number was over the top and fun, and the crowd erupted into rowdy applause. The girls were hamming it up at that point, some hopping off the stage to flirt with people who’d tossed bills at them. Miss Betsy climbed down the side a bit more gracefully, but she was quick to rejoin Gilbert and Ivan at their table.
“Whew!” she panted lightly. “I sure am pooped! What’d y’all think?”
“It was awesome!” Gilbert said. “You were great!”
“Aw shucks,” she acted bashful.
“You look very lovely,” Ivan added.
“I’m a fan of sugar, but y’all are just too sweet! Promise me you’ll come back tomorrow, okay?”
“I think that can be arranged,” Ivan said. Gilbert raised a brow, that hadn’t been part of the plan. He groaned at having to crash at Ivan’s cramped apartment for yet another night.
“You should bring your boy toy, Gilbert!” Miss Betsy said. “His wife could come, too.”
“Yeah, maybe I’ll bring them,” he said. “Will you be performing again?”
“Of course. I do wish I could spend a bit more time with you guys though, you’re a fun group!”
“If you’d like, we could hang out outside of the club,” Ivan said, a bit quietly. Gilbert balked, but Miss Betsy smiled.
“Why Ivan,” she giggled. “Are you flirting with me?”
He was, but he just shrugged.
“You really wanna spend time with me? With, me me?” Her voice lowered in pitch, emphasizing her status as a man.
“Sure. I had a fun time, although perhaps some time without so much alcohol would be more… conducive.”
She pounced, throwing her arms around his neck and pulling him in for a hug. “Oh my gosh, yes! But, only if you guys really do come tomorrow! I’ll give you my number afterwards, kay?”
He nodded and she let go. After another smooch to the cheek, she bounced away, heading with a group of girls toward the backstage. The club’s bouncer was starting to usher people away from the bar, signaling the end of the night. While a few people had taken to dancing on the empty stage, Ivan and Gilbert were a bit too tired for such an activity. Figuring they weren’t going to see their golden girl till the next night, they left, hailing a cab to take them to Ivan’s apartment where they promptly smashed some cold, leftover pizza then crashed.
The next morning—or rather, afternoon, Gilbert and Ivan chugged some water then drove to the café. They quickly met with a smartly dressed man who was already enjoying some tea while reading the morning paper.
“You Arthur?” Gilbert asked.
He sighed. “You’ve met me before, I’m not sure why you’re acting like we don’t know each other,” he said sourly.
“Have we?”
“Several times, actually. Anyway, let’s get this over with. Go ahead and sit down,” he gestured toward the empty seats. “Now, you want to know about Alfred, right?”
Ah yes, that was Miss Betsy’s real name. Ivan hadn’t watched the show in a while, so he’d almost forgotten.
“Yeah. We’d love to have him come work with us, but we’re not sure how best to do that.”
“I see. Yes, he is making a pretty penny in the city. You guys are a bit out of the way. It’s a burden to even visit the frog, really, and I at least have a place to stay when I do. He’d have to start from scratch with the move, or commute daily. That’s not an option, not with Matthew.”
“Matthew?”
“His younger brother. You guys should’ve done your research,” he smirked. “Alfred loves performing, of course, it’s his passion. But, he loves his brother even more, and wants to give him the best life possible.”
“I didn’t know he was a guardian,” Gilbert confessed. “How old is he?”
“Turning ten soon. That’s actually how I met him, my own brother Peter went to school with Matthew.”
“What exactly was your relationship with Alfred?” Gilbert asked.
Arthur blushed. “I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
“You were lovers?” Ivan guessed.
“That’s hardly important for this discussion, but yes, we were. That’s why Francis figured I’d be best to help you with your problem. We dated for about two years or so. I was with him while he was on that show.”
“Why’d you break up?” Ivan couldn’t help but ask.
“Focus, Ivan,” Gilbert laughed. Arthur quirked a brow, seeming to eye Ivan thoroughly.
“You met him, then?” he asked.
“Yeah, just last night.”
“He is quite a charmer. I’m not surprised you’re so smitten,” he smirked over his tea cup.
“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Gilbert asked.
“I think you could use this to your advantage. Of course, ultimately, you’ll have to convince him that taking this job will be best for Matthew, I think. But, in addition, he has been single for a while. We broke up due to differences in taste, I suppose you could say. Fortunately, you’re just his type, Ivan.”
“I’m straight,” he reminded them.
“Francis seems to think otherwise. He’s seen the way you look at Yao and Toris.”
Gilbert whistled. “Damn, talk about unprofessional. Don’t touch my ladies when you’re supposed to protect them!”
“I find women attractive, not men. It is as simple as that. Of course I find them attractive when they perform. But otherwise, I’m not interested,” he defended. Still, he was flushing.
“I was in denial about myself for a long time, lad. There’s no shame in trying things out. Alfred’s a friendly boy, too.”
“You are all just really set on making me gay, aren’t you?” he sighed.
“You flirted with him just fine last night,” Gilbert reminded him.
“As you yourself said, I flirted with her. She was very outgoing.”
“Alfred and Lizzie are very similar in personality. He’s just as flirtatious and bubbly. And very pretty for a man.”
“Lizzie?” Gilbert asked.
“Ah, well, Betsy is a nickname for Elizabeth, you know, which is her full name. I always called her Lizzie. Miss Betsy is for performing.” Pink dusted his cheeks.
“Seems like someone still holds a flame for him, then,” Gilbert laughed. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell Francis.”
“As if that oaf would ever feel threatened. He knows all about my past relationships.”
“Don’t you think it’d be weird to have your ex working with your boyfriend?”
Arthur shrugged. “They’ve met before, very briefly. They did a few shows together. In their line of work it’s not that surprising. All of the bigger names are likely to know each other.”
“Gotcha. So, we just gotta throw Ivan at him, give him some good stage time, and prove that the burbs are much better for Matthew than downtown. Sounds easy.”
“You know, more stage time might not be necessary. He complained a lot to me about how tired he was performing nearly every night. He always made the most money on the weekends, but it left him too exhausted to spend time with Matthew. He hated how often he had to use a sitter. If you could be more flexible with him, I think that would be a convincing perk.”
Gilbert nodded. “That could work out better. Some of the others were a bit nervous that we wanted such a big name, thought we’d fire some of them. But, he can perform just a couple of nights, have time for his brother, and draw in bigger crowds that’ll help bring exposure to everyone! It’ll be great!”
Ivan nodded, suddenly struck with an idea. “What grade is Matthew in?”
“He’ll be entering the sixth grade in the fall.”
“My sister is a teacher at a private school in our little town. It’s a bit expensive, but the financial aid is generous for single parents. If she met the boy and he passed the interview, she could easily waive the rest of the application.”
Gilbert cheered. “That’s brilliant! Ivan’s a big donor to the school, too, so I’m sure they’ll let him in if Ivan insists on it. Plus, little Natalya is in the sixth grade too. Maybe they’ll be friends.”
Ivan paled. “For Matthew’s sake, I hope he doesn’t catch my sister’s eye. Anyway, I can talk to her and work out the logistics of it. We wouldn’t want to get his hopes up for nothing.”
“That sounds like a good plan. In the meantime, you could show him the town, give him a tour and whatnot. Take him and Matthew to some parks. He’d need a place to stay, since he doesn’t have a car,” Arthur suggested.
“He could stay with me,” Gilbert volunteered.
“Won’t that be awkward?” Ivan sighed. “Besides, your house is hardly equipped for children.”
“Well, your apartment is too far away and way too small!”
“Perhaps he could stay with my sister. Her house is much too large for just her and Natalya since I moved out.”
“Would she be okay with him around? He is rather crude at times, and awfully loud,” Arthur said. “Perhaps not the best influence for your younger sister, either.”
“Well, I’m sure we’ll figure out housing sooner or later,” Gilbert mused. “Thanks for the help, Artie!”
“Don’t call me that, you git!” he fumed.
After paying for their tea cakes, Ivan and Gilbert went and enjoyed an actual lunch elsewhere. Ivan called his sister quickly who promised to contact the dean as soon as possible—he thanked the lord that she was a favored teacher at the school. The dean loved her, and he was sure she could convince him to let Matthew find a home there.
Back in his apartment, they set to cleaning up a bit. Ivan wasn’t quite sure why, but Gilbert was adamant about it, and so he relented. They threw out old food and trash, washed sheets, vacuumed, and even dusted. The latter task required them to go out and buy a duster, during which time they picked up a few beers.
Now surrounded by the scent of lemon and bleach, they settled in for a few hours of mind-numbing TV. They cracked open their beers and chatted about the evening, which was making Ivan more nervous than he’d ever felt in a while.
Thankfully, the beer numbed his nerves a bit—he chastised himself; hadn’t he been the one to recommend that they not all drink so much for their next meeting? Still, he found himself nursing a glass of $2 wine—their Wednesday special, apparently—when Miss Betsy took the stage.
She didn’t perform as much that day, so she made her way to Ivan and Gilbert’s table after her single song wielding a bottle of champagne.
“You guys came!” she cheered. “Is your lover coming, Gil?”
“He is!” he shouted over the music. “Should be here soon.” He was swaying in his seat, attempting to get a better view of the door. “Lizzie and her girlfriend are coming, too.”
“Awesome!” she held out the bottle. “Perfect reason to celebrate, then.”
“Oh!” Gilbert said suddenly. He waved his arms wildly. “There they are. Oi! Roddy!”
Ivan turned, seeing the trio. They’d spotted Gilbert thanks to his antics and so were already heading over.
“Hello,” Roderich said simply. He leaned over to give Gilbert a soft kiss, but he preferred to deepen it, much to the more sober man’s distaste.
Elizabeta giggled. “You must be Miss Betsy,” she said to the queen.
“Yup! That’s me!”
“Nice to meet you! I’m Lizzie,” she held up her hand which was holding her girlfriend’s. “This is Emma.”
“Hello!”
“And that’s Roderich,” Liz continued while gesturing toward Roderich who was being pestered by Gil.
The newcomers settled in quickly, each claiming a seat. Tragically, they were short a seat, so Miss Betsy was forced to get comfortable on Ivan’s lap, not that either of them minded. They chatted, Miss Betsy getting to know their friends a bit better, then she popped the champagne, passing it around for everyone to take pulls of since she’d forgotten to get glasses.
“You guys are so fun! I wish you lived closer…”
Gilbert downed his beer. “Well, it’s funny you should mention that.”
“How so?”
“We—Ivan and I—actually work at a little club in our town, much like this one.”
“Oh! That’s great!”
“Yeah, our girls are brilliant, of course, but… we’ve been in the market for new talent.”
“I see,” she was grinning, though she appeared confused.
Ivan cleared his throat, “We came in order to extend the offer of employment to you. We understand that moving can be rather stressful, and uprooting one’s life is perhaps not the best—“
“I’ll do it.”
“—But it’s a calm city, very safe. Good schools and parks—“
“Ivan,” Gil broke in. “She said she’d do it.”
“—and we can’t offer you the same amount you make here but—“ he froze on hearing Miss Betsy giggling, then the words caught up with him. “Wait, really?”
She shrugged. “Sure! It sounds fun!”
“Oh… wow,” Ivan smiled.
“When can I start?”
Gilbert’s mouth dropped. “Holy shit… this is… um, whenever you want, miss!”
“I want to start as soon as possible!”
“Okay, we can do that! Ivan, send a message to everyone that we’ll be open tomorrow!”
“Got it,” he reached into his coat for his phone and opened up the group chat. Within seconds he got some grumpy replies, but for the most part everyone was excited at the news.
“So, you two came in here like a bunch of spies! Wormed your way into heart! Seduced me!” she draped the back of her hand on her forehead.
“It wasn’t like that!” Gilbert insisted.
“It wasn’t?” she pouted. “Oh… that’s too bad. Spies are cool! I wanted to pretend that I was some super secret mission. Codename: Skull Eagle 1!”
“Uh… Then it was exactly like that!”
She clapped her hands in delight. “Oh, fantastic! Where will I be staying till I find a place? Is there a hotel in town?”
“Of course,” Ivan said. “But, we thought it’d be good for you to stay with my sisters. You could meet Ekaterina—she’s a teacher at a local school.”
“I’m too old for school, silly… oh!” she smiled. “Unless you guys looked me up and figured out my secret!”
“Secret?”
“About Matthew, of course!”
“Oh, well. Arthur told us, actually.”
“Artie!” she frowned. “He’s such a gossip. I don’t know how Francis deals with him! So, I get to stay at your place, Ivan?” she batted her lashes. “Sounds fun.”
He flushed. “Ah, I actually live here in the city. I commute.”
Her face fell. “Oh, that’s too bad. I was looking forward to spending more time with you.” She placed her hand on Ivan’s chest, looking forlorn. Ivan swallowed thickly, becoming very aware of how warm she was. She smells nice, he thought.
“Uh…” was his reply.
She brought a finger up to his chin, poking it delicately. “What’s the matter?” she grinned. “Cat got your tongue?” The pad of her finger ran over his bottom lip, forcing his lips to part slightly. Ivan was so singularly focused on her touch, he didn’t even care that his friends were at the table, all pointedly ignoring him so as to create the illusion of privacy.
He swallowed again, and her eyes darted to the motion beneath the skin of his neck. She quirked her head and smiled softly, licking her lips.
Ivan wasn’t sure who pressed forward first—according to Gilbert, Ivan had practically pounced on her like a “horny, rabid bear”, but he doubted his drunk friend’s story—but soon they were kissing, unashamed of the crowded locale.
Miss Betsy was incredibly soft, Ivan noted, his hands roaming all over the parts of her he could reach. Each movement brought out a moan, and he couldn’t get enough of her noises.
Eventually, she pulled away, face flush and pupils dilated; Ivan was sure the hunger in her eyes was being reflected back at her in his own.
“Ivan,” she said simply, voice lowered.
He cleared his throat. “Alfred.”
He smiled, not his cheeky grin from before, but a more genuine expression. “I’m really looking forward to working with you, I think.”
“Me too.”
Alfred leaned in first this time, pressing sweet kisses to Ivan’s lips, his cheeks, his brow, perhaps a far-too intimate gesture given their venue and levels of intoxication.
“You say you live in town?” Alfred asked, running his long nails over Ivan’s bicep. Even through his shirt he could feel their strength.
“Yes—“ he could hear the desperation in his voice.
Alfred turned back to see that Ivan’s friends had left for the dance floor, they’d both failed to notice. “Shall we, then?” He slid off of Ivan’s lap, never letting go of his hand as he took them through the door, onto the street, into a cab, and upstairs to Ivan’s apartment.
Alfred excused himself to the bathroom while Ivan went to the kitchen to pour himself a drink, in need of some liquid courage. He’d never slept with a man before, though he had… ah, researched the practice, just out of curiosity. Given Alfred’s flirtatious nature, he assumed that the other man would be much more familiar with the practice, and so he was nervous—what if he did something wrong? Or what if he wasn’t good enough?
“Ivan,” Alfred’s voice was unexpectedly timid. Ivan turned and, for the first time, saw not a trace of Miss Betsy, but Alfred, free of make-up and boyishly handsome.
“You’re beautiful,” he blurted out.
Alfred covered his face with his hands, then laughed. “Ah, you’re perfect. That’s so sweet.” Shaking his head, he reached out a hand, inviting Ivan to approach him. He obeyed the siren call, leaning down to further taste Alfred as he urged him toward the bedroom.
“Good morning,” Ivan said on noticing Alfred stirring.
“Ugh,” he whined. “That’s an oxymoron.” He snuggled deeper into his pillow. Ivan sighed, then wrapped his arms around his chest, deepening their spooning position. He kissed up Alfred’s neck, lightly ghosting over his nipples through his shirt.
He moaned. “Ivan… It’s so early. Aren’t you tired?”
“No,” he replied simply.
“Well,” he huffed, turning to face Ivan. “Maybe because I did all the work,” he smirked.
Ivan laughed. “That’s true.” Scooching forward, he connected their lips.
Alfred pulled away, nose wrinkling in disgust. “Ugh, morning breath.”
“I’m sorry,” Ivan lied.
He chuckled. “It’s fine. I’m gonna go pee real quick. Need anything?”
“Water and Advil would be nice.”
Alfred was up in seconds, apparently not as sleepy as he’d made himself out to be. “Got it! Your hero is on it!” He dashed from the room. His head reappeared in the doorframe immediately after. “Where would those items be?”
Ivan moved to get up, but a sharp pain in his back forced him to reconsider.
Alfred gasped. “Ah, don’t worry, babe, just keep laying down for a bit!”
“This sucks,” he whined.
“I did warn you.”
“I know,” he laughed.
Alfred was holding onto the doorframe, looking pensive.
“What’s wrong?” Ivan asked.
“You don’t… regret it… do you?”
“Why would I?”
“I mean… we were both a little drunk, and you’d never done that before, and I don’t know if you’d prefer me or Betsy—“
“Alfred,” his voice was firm. Alfred glance up, trying to hide behind too-short bangs. “I don’t regret it. Do you?”
He shook his head. “Of course not! But… I don’t know… if you didn’t like it, I understand. I just hope I didn’t hurt you. I don’t want you judge all this based on one bad sex experience.”
Ivan groaned, throwing his head back.
“Are you okay?” Alfred looked worried, but also too scared to approach him.
“You’re really going to make me be embarrassing,” Ivan mumbled.
“Huh?”
“Come here,” he instructed, sitting up despite his body’s protests. Alfred complied, and Ivan pulled him onto his lap with an aggressive tug.
Alfred landed with a startled “oof” and a confused expression, though Ivan made his point known by pinning him to the bed and gracing him with an aggressive series of kisses. He mumbled against Alfred’s neck, a tickling sensation that made him laugh.
“What’d you say, big guy?”
He sighed, then pulled back an inch. “I said,” he began, punctuating his word with a lasting kiss. “That it was the best sex I’ve ever had.”
That seemed to perk Alfred up immediately. “Really?”
“Yes.”
“Really really?”
An eye roll. “Yes.”
“Oh thank goodness! I was worried!”
“I noticed.”
“I had a good time too.”
“Did you?” Ivan smirked—he of course had known that, as Alfred was a rather vocal lover, something else Ivan hadn’t experienced but found that he liked. “It’s a shame I can barely move,” he mused. “Otherwise we could clean up together.”
He blushed. “Jesus, Ivan, you’re incredible, you know that? I lucked out with you!” He pressed one last kiss to Ivan’s face before rolling off the bed. “I’ll get you your meds, okay? And when I get back, we’ll see what else we can do that doesn’t involve you moving,” he winked. “I’ve got a few ideas that I’m sure you’ll enjoy very much,” his voice deepened at the end, and Ivan found himself getting excited by the promise alone.
They escaped his apartment hours later, Ivan healed sufficiently enough for them to head to brunch with Gilbert and co. without causing him too much pain.
Despite his best efforts to hide it, Gilbert noticed him sitting strange and immediately busted up laughing. Ivan flushed, but Alfred only stuck out his tongue before taking Ivan’s hand and pulling him in for a loud, goofy kiss.
“What was that for?” he chuckled.
“Just want everyone to know you’re mine, now.”
“Oh?”
He nodded. “Gilbert’s just jealous because he doesn’t get a slice of my handsome teddy bear.”
The pet name did not served to abrogate Ivan’s embarrassment, but he didn’t mind all that much what Gilbert thought of them. Instead, he held Alfred’s hand with pride, engaging in his impromptu PDA sessions that ranged from sweet to inappropriate with a light in his eyes.
Thankfully, Alfred was able to drive them to the club that night, Ivan reclining comfortably on his side in the passenger seat.
“Next time,” he whined. “I’m topping.”
Alfred hummed, eyes twinkling with humor. “We’ll see.”