Work Text:
1949
38°44'44.5"N 99°43'39.3"W. Those were the coordinates that Alfred had left him. The man had left him numbers over a series of clues through the past year. Upon receiving the final two digits he took off and it ended up landing him in the middle of nowhere Kansas. The truck he was driving and acquired through means that was no one's business but his own, was holding up quite well on the bumpy icy roads.
Ivan hasn't seen anything but flat land and the frozen remnants of well-organized fields of what he assumed was once corn. Maybe he had gotten the coordinates wrong? He laughs to himself. No. Impossible. He knows he deciphered them perfectly and his confidence is justified. Maybe Alfred made a mistake? Also, unlikely. Alfred could be an airhead sometimes, but he knows that's a front to put other nations at ease and is more clever than he lets on. A mistake like this could have meant something was wrong. Perhaps it is a warning? Paranoia begins to bubble in his stomach as he grips the steering wheel tightly, preparing to make a sharp U-turn. What if something happened to him?
His thoughts are cut off by the sight of a small house coming up on the horizon. White smoke puffed out from the chimney; the red house looks so idyllic in the snowy field it was surrounded by. That must have been the place Alfred instructed him to be. A blue jalopy was parked on the shoveled road that led up to the house. Alfred must already be here. His anxiety settles down as he lets out a sigh in relief.
Ivan parks a few feet away from the blue car, a nice distance from the red home, yet far enough for a scenic walk. The snow crunches underneath his booted feet as he approaches the cozy isolated house. Stopping at the front door, he moves his hand to knock only for the door to be swung open before he could. Next thing he knew, he was being tackled to the ground and landing on a pile of soft snow with a familiar weight on his body.
"You made it! I can't believe you're here, holy shit!" Alfred's words coming out practically on top of one another from sheer excitement.
It took a minute for Ivan to gather his thoughts from the tumble. If it were anyone else, he wouldn't have been on the ground in the first place. However, it was Alfred, his exception to everything. Alfred’s infinitely blue eyes shine with joy at seeing him. Ivan couldn't remember the last time he felt so loved. It's been a long time since anyone was this happy to see him.
"Podsolnukh, please, I have snow in my shirt."
"C'mon, I know the cold doesn't do a damn thing to you." Alfred rolled his eyes the smile never leaving his face.
"Oh? How do you fair against the cold?" his voice lowered, and Alfred raised an eyebrow in confusion at the question.
"Wha--" And suddenly their positions were switched. Alfred was on the ground with Ivan on top. Alfred let out a yelp that morphed into a delighted laugh. Alfred wriggled underneath him.
"That was dirty!" Ivan didn't know Alfred's voice could hit a pitch that high.
"I'm sorry. How can I ever redeem myself?"
"I don't know if I can forgive you. I don't know if I can trust you again." Alfred feigned distraught, theatrically turning away from Ivan. The man on top gave him an amused smile at his flair for the dramatics of it all. He leaned down to press a soft kiss to his forehead. He wasn't worried if anyone would see them, he knew Alfred would pick a spot that was safe enough for both to do as they please. This spot was perfect place to forget that their two nations were on the brink of war. Their only worry today was to figure out what they were having for dinner.
"Don't try and shuck me out of my due diligence. C'mon, pay up!" Alfred practically grinning from ear to ear. Ivan felt the rumble of laughter bubble in his chest. The two met each other halfway for a kiss. It had been their first kiss in two years. Their lips were slightly chapped from the cold, yet neither of them would have it any other way.
The two parted for air and Ivan pressed his forehead against Alfred's, white puffs of air escaping their lips as they chuckled.
"I missed you so terribly." Ivan whispered moving his gloved hands to cup Alfred's face. Two years was too long to be apart from the man he loved so much. Yet, here he was. He had only dreamt of this moment, but now it was here. Alfred was here with him, smiling at him with brilliance that was only matched by the sun.
"I missed you too. God, you don't know how much." snaking his arms around Ivan's neck, and brought him in for another kiss. They stayed like that for who knows how long. No matter how long they have been apart it was always so easy to come back as if hundreds of days had not gone by without each other. They broke again for air. Ivan silently cursed his lungs. It wasn't until he heard Alfred gasp that he became concerned.
"Alfred? Are you--"
"The pie!" Alfred flung Ivan off, he is surprised he hasn't gotten the least bit dizzy with all the commotion. Alfred ran back into the house as Ivan brushed the snow off himself while getting up from the ground. He couldn't help the smile that began to take over the corners of his lips. Alfred was always unpredictable. It's what he adored about him.
Stepping into the cozy quaint home he wiped his feet on the welcome mat and toed them off, leaving them by the entrance. This home looked well cared for, he wondered who had been taking care of it when Alfred wasn't here. It couldn't have been the other man; they were plagued with responsibilities and this was too far of a trek to tend to the home.
The smell of something sweet made itself at home in his nostrils. He took his time shedding off his coat only leaving his scarf. The home was decorated with a tasteful wallpaper and generic looking photos of a family on the wall.
"Is this a safehouse?" is what he deduced from the evidence he had been silently collecting.
"Yup!" Alfred called out from the kitchen, his voice cutting through the clang of pots and pans. What was he doing in there?
A safehouse confirmed just about every question Ivan had. It was just that. Safe. The family and home amenities were just things that agents would need in order survive if they needed to lay low for a while. His own intelligence agency has them all over the world. He wonders why Alfred had picked this one. Ivan would have met him anywhere in the world, so why Kansas?
"Yes! No burns! She's perfect!" Alfred squealed 'she's perfect' and Ivan walked into the kitchen to see this perfect pie. Alfred's words rang true. The pie was crisp golden-brown color decorated with a lattice crust on top. It smelled of apple and cinnamon, Alfred's specialty.
"You are right, you have created a masterpiece. I expected no less." Upon inspecting the pie.
"I brought you a little something too. Wouldn't want you getting homesick." Alfred walked over to the other side of the kitchen counter and brought the basket that was resting there. Bringing it to the table Alfred pulled out familiar looking ingredients. Beets, chicken, cabbage, onions, etc. Everything they needed in order to make Ivan's favorite food. There was a moment of silence that came from the thoughtfulness of Alfred's gesture.
"I figured you'd like something to remind you of home. You've been in my country for a while. Plus, I've never gotten to try your borscht. We could go out and get something else if you don't want it, I don't really min---"
"It's perfect." Ivan had cut off the rambling American and those were the only words that came to mind when saw how much thought Alfred put into planning this. Ivan hadn't been able to have a nice home cooked meal like this in a very long time. He was always traveling or in some meeting, there was never time for him to make something like this.
How much of a difference could simple beets and cabbage could make? To Ivan it meant more than he could possibly describe. Love was something hard to come by for them. Their lives as nations was difficult. Yet, loving Alfred came so easily to him.
Alfred let out an exaggerated sigh of relief lips curling into a smile as Ivan pulled him into a tender kiss. He's kissed him dozens of times before and it always made him feel safe and loved. Alfred kissed him as if nothing else in the world mattered but him. They broke it apart when they realized they were both starving.
"Lead the way big guy, let's see if this borscht lives up to the hype."
Ivan snorts, "I've tasted some of what you call 'cuisine'. I'm sure this will live up to your standards." The light heartedness in his voice is what made Ivan’s statement different from those who criticize Alfred’s cultural food staples.
"Asshole." with no malice in his voice and amusement shining in his eyes.
Ivan began peeling the beets while Alfred began chopping up the rest of the vegetables. It was quiet work, both content in enjoying each other's presence.
Violet eyes flicked up from their task to watch the other man work with the ingredients. The way his tongue stuck out from his mouth and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration reminded Ivan of the face Alfred makes when he’s working on machinery. Peeling the beets was soothing in way. His hands weren't used for domestic work like this anymore. Hands he would rather be using to dig through the dirt and plant a garden on the countryside where he and Alfred could always live this.
"Jeez, that's gonna stain. Looks more like a crime scene." Alfred looked over towards the other man’s area. The cutting board was stained bright red, so he knew what Alfred was talking about. It was always awful trying to get the stains out after, but he knew the trick to it.
"Not if I do it right without distractions." focusing, trying not to let the man's gaze keep him from his kitchen-ly duties.
"What constitutes as a distraction?" Alfred asks, almost too innocently.
"Alfred, no."
"Alfred, yes!"
Alfred had left his station and it all moved too fast for Ivan to keep up. It wasn't until he felt the other man's soft lips press against his cheek, arms wrapping around his waist hugging him from behind that he knew what Alfred meant by a distraction. Warmth blossomed inside of his chest as he felt the heat of Alfred against his back. His bones had a constant chill inside them; Alfred somehow managed to soothe the frosty winds inside his heart. Alfred gave him a quick peck on the cheek before letting go.
"Break's over get back to work, big guy!" the playfulness of his tone carried out from the living room into the kitchen.
"Of course, I wouldn't want you to starve."
Alfred snickered and stuck out his tongue at him before getting back to work with the chopping. The two followed Ivan's instruction on how to make the borscht just as Yekaterina taught him so long ago. They would always cook this on Christmas day and eat it together as a family. There was an ache in his heart just thinking about her. Her and Natalia. It's been a long time since he has seen them both with the tumultuous political climate they were currently living in. They weren't very pleased with him at the moment.
Alfred must have noticed Ivan's expression change because he felt the man hug him from behind and rest his chin on Ivan's shoulder.
"Should we get this thing cookin', big guy?" his voice was soft as to not startle the taller man.
"Da, of course."
Alfred let go and Ivan got to work with adding the remaining spices and ingredients. Alfred walked off into the living room while Ivan waited for the veggies to soften so he could add the water. A few moments later, the sound of a clean voice rang out from the record player.
The familiar and iconic voice of Vera Lynn could be heard over the speaker. A song he hasn't heard since it first came out 10 years when the Second World War had first started. Now, it was 4 years after that war had ended and he was thrown into another one only this time with Alfred. Not here though. In this house they were safe here and with one another. Alfred sauntered back into the kitchen where Ivan was stirring the borscht.
"Hey, put that spoon down for a second." Ivan did so for a moment, the wooden spoon instantly replaced with Alfred's fingers. He was gracefully spun away from the stove where Alfred had pulled him close in time with the music. Their bodies remembered how to dance with one another. They didn't step on each other's feet once.
"What? Didn't think I could swing, big guy?" Alfred teased.
Ivan chuckled while he wrapped an arm around the other man's waist.
"Of course not, we have danced together like this many times before."
"Do you remember the last time we danced to this song?"
Vera Lynn's 'We'll Meet Again' played as clear as the day it came out. He remembers it played when the war first broke out. They were both in uniform as they danced the night away holding each other close, just as they are now. Their uniforms replaced with comfy sweaters and the smell of apple pie and borscht wafting all throughout the house.
The two stepped in tune with the song and by the end of it had opted out for slowly swaying with another. Someday, everyday could be like this for them. The song ended and the next song followed until they had danced the entire album.
"Ya lyublyu tebya, solnyshko." Ivan had whispered.
Alfred smiled at the other man and rested his head on his shoulder.
"I love you too."