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It had slipped his mind, really. How could it not have when Ivan’s embrace was so warm and his lips were so invitingly plump and whispered sweet and seducing promises? Alfred had been putty in the Russian’s hands, helplessly doomed from the start.
It had only been a matter of short lived time, they both knew. Between their wonderfully long friendship and mutually desperate pining, it was safe to say that the two were well beyond comfortable with the other. It was for that notion that Alfred didn’t push away when Ivan moved a knee over his hips, effectively straddling the American. And even when Ivan leaned forward, his twin size mattress creaking in protest at the shift in weight, and pressed his plump, pale, pink lips against Alfred’s own darker chapped ones and immediately begged for entrance by sliding an enticing tongue along Alfred’s lower lip, Alfred couldn’t help but happily oblige.
Tongues wrestled against each other, both fighting for dominance as neither boy was too keen on giving up power that easily. The passion, the desire, it was reminiscent of the time in the park they’d first confessed their love for each other. Only now they were secluded in the safety of Ivan’s single dorm room with the new ability to go all the way if they so desired.
And boy did they desire it. It was like an insatiable hunger that had grown in the pits of their stomachs as the years of falsely perceived unrequited love dragged on and on with seemingly no end in sight. Now that they knew the truth, however, their desires, hunger, and all around love was bubbling over to the point of absolute need.
Desperate snow white hands grabbed chunks of honey blonde hair, tugging on the soft strands slightly. Alfred let out a low groan of pleasure that only sounded like the finest of music to Ivan’s ears. The Russian would’ve done anything to hear Alfred sing like that all night. With desire still high in the air, that was what Ivan intended on doing.
Eventually, Alfred found his own sun-kissed hands trailing through ashen hair, giving gentle tugs of his own and relishing in the noises that emitted through Ivan’s large frame and reverberated in the back of Alfred’s throat due to their mouths still being pressed together. Ivan was so perfectly and beautifully intoxicating that the world around them seemed to melt away into oblivion, leaving nothing but Ivan’s gentle touches and the scent of the older’s cologne within Alfred’s senses.
Alfred’s hands slipped away from Ivan’s hair, instead finding a home up the older man’s shirt, fingertips trailing gently over large pale sides, sending shivers up Ivan’s pleasure intoxicated body. Alfred couldn’t help himself, digging his nails ever so gently into Ivan’s back, just to see how the Russian would react. Alfred wasn’t disappointed, taking immense satisfaction in the way Ivan’s breath hitched within their prolonged kiss and the way his entire body shook over Alfred’s. Ivan broke the kiss off, momentarily leaning over Alfred as he panted heavily, cheeks flushed red with oncoming arousal that was even more apparent within his straining jeans. Alfred panted as well, but not nearly to the degree Ivan was. He was able to smirk up at his boyfriend with alluring sky blue eyes, nimble fingers toying with the hem of Ivan’s school t-shirt.
Ivan’s shirt was lifted up and over his head before he could speak, Alfred nonchalantly tossing it to the side. Alfred’s hands quickly began to map out Ivan’s bare chest and stomach, relishing in the way Ivan would sometimes moan or inhale sharply. Alfred leaned up, forcing Ivan to sit on his bent legs while Alfred began to taste up and down the older’s collarbone, sucking at the sensitive skin. Ivan clamped a hand quickly over his mouth as the sensations rode through his lover’s high madly. Alfred left hickey after hickey, and Ivan didn’t object, didn’t want to. How could he when he was finally receiving what he’d wanted after so long?
Neither was sure when it happened, but as Alfred continued to leave artworks of hickeys up and down Ivan’s collarbone, the Russian’s fingers worked themselves underneath Alfred’s shirt and made quick work of the fabric, tossing it to the side.
Alfred didn’t think anything of it, completely forgot to, in fact, which he would later attribute to his general forgetfulness mixed in with the alluring attraction that Ivan left him so helplessly in.
It wasn’t a problem at first, both way too focused on the sensations they were feeling and the sensations they could cause. It was the moment Ivan insisted on trailing kisses all the way from Alfred’s neck down to the man’s fingertips when the issue arose.
Ivan’s eyes widened, and for the first time that night, he inhaled sharply not due to a stimulating touch that Alfred left. No, instead he felt horror and intense pain as he stared up and down Alfred’s arm that he held in his hand.
Alfred didn’t notice Ivan’s distress at first, believing the noise Ivan emitted was simply from that of pleasure as the rest of his delectable noises had been. It was the moment Ivan frantically dropped his one arm and scrambled for the other, grip unmistakably tight that Alfred realized something was wrong.
When it dawned on Alfred what the problem was, he quickly retracted both of his arms, holding them to his chest in an ‘x’ formation as though that would keep Ivan from seeing the marks that the Russian had already seen. Alfred moved backwards from Ivan, bare back pressing firmly against the cool wall at the head of Ivan’s bed as he stared at the Russian with wide eyes, trying his best to drink in all of the emotions he possibly could that Ivan was showing. Alfred wouldn’t be able to take another gaze of disappointment, not from Ivan.
Though, the more he gazed into the downturned violet eyes of his lover, Alfred realized it wasn’t disappointment he saw. No, rather a deep concern and fear mixed with longing.
Ivan didn’t speak, and neither did Alfred. For now, no words needed to be said to convey what the two were thinking. Ivan simply outstretched a hand, not touching Alfred, but rather inviting the younger man to outstretch his arm and allow the ashen blonde to examine it. To his silent offer, Alfred was, understandably, hesitant. While he knew his boyfriend wasn’t the type to approach sensitive subjects with anger and harsh words, Alfred still feared he would. This was a side of himself he hadn’t shared with anyone, not even Mattie, and it was a side he hadn’t been ready to show anybody, but rather keep it under lock and key for as long as he could, perhaps even until the small circular scars healed and faded away into nothing.
Clearly, that wasn’t an option now.
Even as the seconds drug out into minutes, Ivan’s offering hand didn’t waver, and neither did Alfred’s defensive stance. It wasn’t until it felt like they’d been sitting there for two minutes did Ivan’s fingers twitch subtly, almost beckoning Alfred to comply and just let the college student look at his arms.
It was at that moment Alfred realized that Ivan wasn’t going to stop until Alfred’s arms had been looked over by his own lavender eyes.
Slowly, cautiously, almost as if Ivan was a bomb that would explode if Alfred moved even a fraction too fast, Alfred uncurled his arms from his chest, slowly extending them in front of his body and allowing those same snow white hands that were ravaging his body in the most lewdest of ways not moments ago to take hold of his arms in such a gingerly way that it almost felt as if Alfred was being handled as though he were glass. He did his best to not suck in a sharp breath when careful and disbelieving thumbs ran themselves up and down his arms in examination, every so often pausing over one of the little raised spots.
Ivan’s ashen eyebrows furrowed downward as though he was focusing on the spots on Alfred’s arms. There was no question as to what they were. Ivan wasn’t an idiot, and Alfred knew that.
The Russian would know burn marks when he saw them.
Alfred became increasingly aware of the way his heart thumped profusely in his chest, and he wondered if it was from the growing sense of shame that thrived in his stomach and was threatening to crawl out of his throat, or if it was from the fact that he hadn’t stopped holding his breath the moment Ivan took his arms into his hands. Whatever it was, Alfred waited in agony for Ivan to say something, to do anything , but for now all he did was stare at the dark pink marks on Alfred’s sunkissed skin. Some marks were faded with the promise of healing while newer ones were still broken open from popped blisters.
All too quickly, Alfred watched as Ivan’s lavender orbs grew saddened, thumbs still brushing over the sensitive and disturbed skin with a gentleness only Alfred was aware the Russian could possess.
“Burns?”
He hit the fucking nail on the head, because of course he did . Alfred should’ve known better to think that he could possibly hide this from his best friend, his boyfriend . Ivan had a way of finding out the littlest of details about anyone and everyone, and this of course didn’t exclude Alfred.
All Alfred could do was nod dumbly.
Ivan hummed in acknowledgement, low and throaty, a substantial contrast to his typical high-pitched tenor voice. “Cigarettes?”
Again, Alfred nodded.
Again, Ivan hummed, but this one was tinged in a sadness that Alfred had only heard one other time.
That night on the swingsets…
Alfred shook his head. He didn’t want to think about that night, nor the heavy emotions he associated with it and strenuous plans he dropped all because Ivan talked some sense into him.
“I thought you stopped buying those,” Ivan mused in a whispered voice, eyes fixated on Alfred’s arms.
The American bit his lower lip. “I did,” he began slowly. “Those are all old. Well, most. Things with family have been getting better, but that first week of therapy was really difficult and stressful. We were all in tears, and I don’t think Mattie had held my hand as tightly as that since I was in the hospital about a month or two ago. Dad and Papa cried a bit, and I just couldn’t help but feel that I’m the reason why they were so upset…why we have to do those sessions in the first place.” Alfred cut himself off from saying more, not trusting the shakiness in his voice to carry on the rest of his sentence.
Ivan gave Alfred’s wrist a gentle squeeze. “How did you manage the newer ones?”
“Gilbert…” Alfred said tremulously. “Mattie’s boyfriend. He smokes sometimes, but not often. I swear, he’s had the same pack since summer and we’re nearly in the middle of December. I saw him with them out at the school last week and asked if I could have one. He seemed shocked but offered the pack anyway. I didn’t bother lighting it till I got home. I…didn’t really want it for smoking purposes anyway.”
His intentions for the cigarette didn’t need to be voiced. No, his desire for it spoke loudly for itself against the fragile canvas that was the skin on Alfred’s arms.
Ivan breathed deeply through his nose, exhaling from his mouth. Blue skies in, grey skies out, as Alfred had once taught him. “How can I help prevent this?”
Alfred didn’t have an answer, not off the top of his head. He hadn’t had anyone help him through it before, nor had he ever attempted to stop the urges himself. He’d always given into the sweet yet dangerous demons that lured him into a false sense of security. Now that Ivan was offering him a hand to get him out of the deep and dark pit he’d dug for himself, he wasn’t sure how to take it. “I…don’t know.”
Ivan was stationary for a moment, eyes still harboring that painfully saddened look that Alfred felt he couldn’t tolerate much longer. The blonde’s eyes widened as he watched Ivan slowly bring his arm up to his snowy lips. As though Alfred was a child who believed that affection was the cure to all surface injuries, Ivan left soft, caring, and meaningful kisses along Alfred’s maimed flesh. Each burn, which there were more than Alfred would care to count, did not go unkissed. Ivan’s lips would linger momentarily over each and every burn for about five seconds before moving to the next one.
Alfred felt like he wanted to cry, almost did in fact, but after the long few weeks he’d had, he’d come to find that he was so sick of crying. Still, the feeling didn’t make his emotions fall away in the slightest. His eyes watered, absolutely burned, as he tried to keep the tears at bay. He tensed his shoulders, looked at the ceiling, and internally begged for Ivan to stop his affectionate attempts at helping. He didn’t deserve this sort of help, not after all the trouble and pain he’d caused. Every burn was for some reason or other deserved, and he just wanted Ivan to allow him to feel that pain that he warranted upon himself.
But Ivan was too sweet for that, always towards Alfred.
“You are much too beautiful a man to ever deserve such horrendous and burdening scars,” Ivan breathed out, lips still trailing across Alfred’s sensitive skin. “You are much too wonderful a person to deserve such pain and punishment. You do not see your own worth. I wish to aid you in that,” Ivan said sincerely, his words hanging in the air heavily as if they were a thick layer of smoke that Alfred had no choice but to breathe in.
Alfred didn’t trust himself to speak, not without more salty, hot, and acidic tears trailing down his cheeks. The only way he could respond was by shaking his head slowly as though he was in disbelief.
Ivan was silent a moment longer, letting his words continue to sink themselves into Alfred’s brain and seep into his blood and heart, but both knew a couple of sweet words and gestures wouldn’t be enough to completely cure the problem and Alfred’s dark thoughts. “It is not so simple to believe such words, no matter who they come from, da ? Even still, I wish to help as best as I can to get you to see yourself the way I see you.” Ivan, for the time being, finished peppering his small but meaningful kisses along Alfred’s delicate skin before shifting to take the shorter man into his arms.
And if Alfred didn’t all but fall into Ivan’s arms, nuzzling his cheek desperately against Ivan’s pale bare chest as the Russian laid down so that Alfred was resting comfortably on top of his chest. Those snowy lips that Alfred felt he’d been studying all night found their way to the top of Alfred’s head, burying themselves in sunny hair that Ivan always offhandedly said reminded him of sunflower petals. “I cannot force you to do anything, but I really really want you to talk to me, Sunflower,” Ivan pleaded softly, grip around Alfred tightening as though the eighteen-year-old would disappear if he let go. “Whenever you feel like doing something like this or worse…please contact me. I am only a phone call away. I will drive wherever I need to, we will go wherever you want to, I will do whatever I need to do to keep you safe. I just need you to talk to me, to trust me. I cannot help you if you do not let me in, dorogoy .”
Alfred sniffed, continuing to try to keep the tears from falling. His fist moved to find the comforter he and Ivan lied on top of, gripping onto the fabric tightly. “I’m sorry,” he apologized breathily.
Ivan’s hand, as pale as the glistening snow, rubbed Alfred’s back comfortingly. Alfred had always wondered how it was possible for Ivan to resemble the beautiful snow so closely only to be warmer than the sunniest of summer days. “You do not need to apologize,” Ivan reassured him hushedly. “I am just concerned for your health. Mental and physical. I do not wish for you to hurt so severely in silence. Please come to me whenever you feel like doing this so we can deter these self harming tendencies. Together . You are not fighting your demons alone.”
A lone breath lodged itself in Alfred’s throat, effectively choking him and threatening to let his tears fall. Leave it to Ivan to make him feel as though the world wasn’t as heavy as it had been mere moments ago. Slowly, Alfred nodded his silent agreement.
They lied like that for what felt like an eternity. An eternity that was oversaturated in an overwhelming plethora of emotions that penetrated both of them to the very core. The heaviness of Ivan’s discovery hung over their heads tantalizingly, leaving an ashen haired boy feeling apprehensive and downtrodden while the blonde haired boy was overcome with guilt and shame. Gentle touches exchanged between the two, however, helped loosen the heavy feelings a smidge. Ivan’s gentle brushes of his hand against Alfred’s bare back left a seed of reassurance in the pit of the American’s stomach, begging for more so that it could grow and blossom into something more hopeful. Alfred’s gentle nuzzles of his head against Ivan’s chest helped relax the Russian because it reminded him that now Alfred was here , and so long as Ivan had him in his arms, things would be alright.
Their breathing slowly began to even out, syncing wonderfully together as drowsiness began to overtake them both. Tiredly, Alfred looked up and placed a kiss on Ivan's jaw before moving his head back to Ivan’s chest, continuing to listen to the steady thrum of the nineteen-year-old’s heartbeat. Ivan returned the favor, once again placing a kiss on Alfred's head. Consciousness began to leave both of them, nothing but dreams flooding their heads instead. Dreams where pain was nonexistent and all worries were extinguished.
The pain, the anxiety, the trials and attempts at being clean would await them when consciousness once again flooded their minds and their eyes blinked open, but that was ok.
All storms have to come to an end eventually. They’d get through it.
Together.