Work Text:
February 13, 10: 37 PM.
Alfred was scrolling on his phone after getting home from football practice and taking a shower. God, he really hated how time consuming practice was, but he really liked football itself. It would be Valentine's day tomorrow, he wasn’t exactly stoked, but he looked forward to the chocolate he’d get. He was definitely getting at least a couple of chocolates, each from different girls… or guys, he didn’t judge.
Alfred checked the time, it was kind of late—especially for a school night. He didn’t want to ruin his sleeping schedule over some trivial bullshit that would never actually help him, (in what world would stupid posts do anything for him other than keep him entertained?) so, in his wisdom and wit, decided to… go on his bed and doomscroll there instead of his couch.
When he finally made it to his bed, he dove straight into the pillows. He let out a sigh of relief—it was so comfortable. Suddenly, he felt his phone vibrating. He yelped, accidentally kicking his phone off the bed in surprise.
He peered down at the ground and checked his phone. Okay, it wasn’t cracked or anything, so it was fine. He looked at who was calling—it was Francis and Arthur.
Alfred answered the call; what were they up to? “Dude, what the hell! You made me drop my phone! Man, at least it isn’t broken,” he exclaimed, not realizing the angle he was holding his phone in was quite unflattering on his face.
He heard Francis chuckle brokenly through the call. “Sorry, sorry, I just had something I had to say to you before Valentine’s day,” he explained.
Alfred raised an eyebrow and leaned back against his pillows, he would want to be comfortable before listening to whatever Francis was going to say. “Yeah, what is it, please don’t tell me you're in love with me or something and want to confess before anyone else does!”
Arthur shook his head in disbelief, “Huh!? Why would you think of that? Just, tell him before I get more confused!” he chimed in.
Alfred let out a sigh of relief. Francis, hearing that, rolled his eyes. “Why would you assume that? Anyways, no, see, remember the bet you lost?”
‘Uh, yeah, why?” Alfred didn’t like where this was going.
Arthur’s muffled laughter was heard on the other line, but he ignored it. “So, there's this one student,” Francis began.
Alfred let out a sigh. “Uh huh, continue.”
Francis moved the camera, and now he was on his stomach on his bed. “Does the name Ivan ring a bell?”
Alfred felt his stomach drop. God, hopefully it wasn’t that Ivan... “Ivan? I know a few, why?” he replied.
Francis closed his eyes, a small smile painted on his face. “Oh, that's good to know.”
Alfred's eyes widened. “Why, is there gonna be something stupid I have to do?”
“Maybe, maybe not, it all depends on your point of view,” Francis said vaguely.
‘Dude, I don't really care about whatever you're babbling about, just tell me his last name,” Alfred urged.
The humming of Francis was barely heard through the call before he responded. “Braginsky. His last name is Braginsky.”
If Alfred was drinking something right now, he would’ve spat it out immediately. “No way, that Braginsky? Why? Do you want me to do something? What is it?”
“Well, I wanted you to—” Francis didn't finish, as he was cut off by the sound of Arthur’s boisterous laughter.
“He wants you to prank him, pretend you’re some random girl that's well into him and watch as he gets heartbroken!” Arthur interjected.
Alfred shook his head in disbelief. “Man, it's not like I like him or anything, but isn’t that, like… you know… rude?”
Francis tucked a piece of his hair behind his ear. “Hey! It was Arthur’s idea anyways, for some reason he hates that man,” he admitted.
“Wait a sec, aren't you like, romantic or something, why are you advocating for this?”
Francis pressed a finger to his lip. “I’m not advocating for it per se, I’m just telling you! And also perhaps somewhat involved.”
“And, that stupid man ruined what I was doing!” Arthur exclaimed.
Alfred knit his eyebrows and smiled awkwardly. “Well, if he ruined something you were trying to do, that’s for the best, dude,” he said to no one in particular, but he could hear Francis resisting his laughter.
Arthur glared at Francis. “Whatever! Can you do it or not? Well, it’s not a matter of whether you want to do it or not—you have to. You lost that bet after all.”
Alfred let out a sigh. “What even is it that you want me to do?”
“So,” Arthur started. “You should probably brace yourself for this.”
“Ugh, just tell me so I can get it over with dude!” Alfred exclaimed.
Alfred could almost hear Arthur rolling his eyes at the side. “Okay, so, there isn’t really a set thing for you to do… just… annoy him? Yeah, annoy him. But not just mildly infuriating things—I mean like something that would actually piss him off.”
“And by that you mean…?” Alfred clarified.
“Hm, I don’t know, maybe you can start by sending him… something—like cake—in the middle of the night. You have full creative liberty,” Arthur said.
“I… alright, then! I’ll take a quick power nap so I won’t be totally out of energy in the middle-of-the-freaking-night!” Alfred retorted and ended the call. This was so bothersome!
Alfred felt his eyes begin to close, so he set an alarm for 1 AM. Tomorrow was going to be a long day. Sadly, for Alfred, it did not seem like he was getting any sleep. He tossed and turned, desperate to at least get some shut eye for the “eventful” day ahead. Not only was he going to get showered with compliments and gifts, he also had to do the same for Ivan!
He felt a shiver run down his spine. There was just something that felt wrong about doing it! Was it because he had to essentially break Ivan’s heart, or the fact that he almost despised Ivan? Ivan wasn't totally the worst guy, but there was just something about him that made Alfred feel so crazy. The way he seemed to have animosity towards Alfred, the way he and Alfred were somehow evenly matched, or maybe it was simply because he was so… so… cute?
Alfred’s eyes suddenly shot open and he lurched forwards. No! He didn’t find Ivan… cute, did he? He couldn’t! He would never hear the end of it if others found out! But… was he wrong for thinking that? It was factual! Ivan Braginsky was cute! He had soft, fluffy hair—hair that Alfred wanted to run his fingers through, soft, doe eyes that could somehow turn so… cold in a split second, a large, hooked nose that fit his other facial features so goddamn well, and lips that were just the perfect size for kissing. Not only that, he had some pretty cute mannerisms! (If you ignored the more… intimidating factors.)
Alfred rolled around and kicked his feet. Gosh, why did he have to think like this! Could he have not found someone else—maybe a nice girl—cute? Why Ivan? Why him out of all people! He would never choose to willingly like him, it was driving him crazy!
Alfred stopped freaking out and came back to his senses for a brief moment. No, Ivan Braginsky wasn’t cute… he was also hot! Whenever he loomed over people, whenever he focused and his face became stoic, whenever his clothes were too loose and you could see his skin and the shape of his bod—god, he was just hot! This was so frustrating! Why did he have to do a double kill!
Alfred let out a small huff. Right, none of this would really matter because he would never ever admit to liking Ivan, and his minuscule chance of maybe even getting with him that were already next to none would go down straight to the negatives if he ever found out what he was planning to do! Curse Arthur for getting annoyed by him!
When Alfred turned to his bedside table, it was already almost 1 AM. He let out an annoyed grunt and opted to just grab his keys to his dorm and wallet before leaving. He figured he should just buy that cake, leave it outside Ivan’s dorm, and go try and figure out what else to do.
Alfred jumped out of his bed and walked outside. He closed the door behind him, not bothering to lock it. He wandered aimlessly outside the campus, trying to find an open bakery at this hour. The only thing he could think of while walking was Ivan.
Finally, he found a bakery that was somehow still open at this hour. Maybe they opened really early for desperate people like Alfred who wanted to get Valentine's gifts early. He opened the door, hearing the sound of calm background music, the smell of fresh pastries, and the warmth from the oven.
He walked up to the counter and saw a man who looked like he did not want to be awake at this hour. “Hi, uh… what can I get you?”
Alfred paused before looking at the options. There was vanilla, chocolate, strawberry, and a whole lot more. Fuck, which one would Ivan like? Would he like something generic, or something more unique? Would he like something sweet, or something less—
“—Hello? Hey, man can you just pick what you want?”
Alfred blinked a few times. “Right… uh…” he hesitated. “What’s your best seller for cake?”
“Chocolate I guess, is that what you want?”
Alfred thought about it for a moment. Would chocolate be too basic? It would be like saying: “Oh, I got the most generic flavor for you because I didn’t know what else to get you.” What else would Ivan like? He dug his nails into his palm—why was this so difficult?
“I’ll just get… strawberry cheesecake. Yeah, strawberry cheesecake," Alfred decided.
“Alright then.” The man started to put it in the bag. “So, uh, why are you getting it this early?” he said for a measly attempt for small talk.
“Uh… advanced planning!” Alfred blurted out.
“Seems a bit too advanced... here, it’ll be twenty five bucks.”
Alfred handed the first bill he could get in his wallet. When the man looked at it he rolled his eyes. “Dude, this is a ten dollar bill.”
“Oh right, uh here!” Alfred quickly added the adequate amount needed for the cake. Soon after that, he left. Ugh, he felt too tired.
He walked back to his dorm, eyes heavy. Once he finally made it back, he almost fell asleep on the spot. But, no, he couldn’t do that, he had a responsibility! He grabbed the only piece of paper he had, wrote something down, folded it, and placed it on top of the cake.
He had to leave his dorm—again—just to put it outside Ivan’s room. He staggered in the dark hallways, painfully aware of what might happen if Ivan saw him. He placed the cake outside his door, rang the doorbell, and sprinted back to his room. Somehow.
Okay, finally! Alfred could finally go back to his comfortable, warm, amazing, bed! It was truly too bad that he couldn't sleep after that.
Ivan knew that he wasn’t the most popular kid. He was just a normal (read, quite intimidating) Russian student, yet he had a small catalogue of those whom he called friends. He wasn’t “close” to anyone per se, at least, not on a personal level (he did want to get “closer” to others, but that only works when the feelings can be reciprocated).
Here he was, standing outside of his dorm at 2 AM on a school night. Why would any of his friends—no, why would anyone ring the doorbell and suddenly leave? It was probably someone he unknowingly provoked or simply just a juvenile individual. There was nothing around him that provided an insight on who it might be. However, when he looked down, there was something that caught his eye.
There was a small box near the doorstep. When he bent down to look at it, he saw… a cake? On top of the cake was a small, folded letter. When he opened it, it read: From your secret admirer! Be prepared for more soon >:3.
What was… this? Was this a prank? And why was the handwriting so… ugly? It wasn't like he was judging someone based on their handwriting, but to simply put it, it was jarring. Enough about that, though, why was this… gesture of admiration… given to him out of all people?
Ivan begrudgingly grabbed the cake and went back inside. He turned on the lights—he probably wouldn't fall asleep again.
He walked up to his fridge to place the cake inside, but not before checking it. Well, at least it was something he liked. He went back to his bed and laid at the edge.
Secret admirer, huh?
What idiot would willingly admire him?
Alfred was panicking. He was panicking over some stupid flowers.
He was in a small floral stand outside of the campus with Francis, who was starting to chuckle at his indecisiveness. There were so many options, yet he simply couldn't choose a bouquet.
“Agh! I can't pick!” Alfred exclaimed, scratching his own head.
“Alfred, it really does seem like you're putting more thought into this than you should,” Francis observed while holding back a laugh.
Alfred paced around the small area he could walk around in. “Shut up, dude! This is just so… frustrating? What flowers would he want? What if he's allergic to something? I wouldn't fit the ‘perfect admirer’ role then!”
“Why don’t you just give him red roses? That's one of the most classic flowers you could ever give?” Francis suggested.
Alfred bit his lower lip in frustration. “And be basic? Yeah, no!”
Francis’ face softened. He was probably assuming… something! “Well, what about tulips? People like that.”
“It doesn’t sound that bad I guess… let me check for them,” Alfred said, walking towards the flowers.
There were… a lot of options. Perhaps a little too much for Alfred’s frazzled brain. The amount of colors he saw looked like it came straight from a dream. Maybe a dream with Ivan—okay, enough!
His eyes drifted to a large bouquet of red tulips. They were… nice enough.
“Hey, dude, what do ya think about these?” Alfred said, gesturing to the tulips.
“Those are nice, if you want to get them you should,” Francis replied. What an insightful reply.
“Alright then,” Alfred paused before grabbing the flowers. He turned to look at Francis and raised an eyebrow. “Theres like, meaning to flowers, right? Flower language or some bullshit. Uh, so, can you search what these certain flowers mean? It seems like too much but that's exactly the point!”
Francis took out his phone and searched it up. A small smirk appeared on his face—oh god, please don’t be something perverted. “In flower language, it means intense passion—” He couldn’t finish, as Alfred cut him off.
“—Intense passion?! That sounds way too desperate, man! Are there seriously no flowers that aren’t basic but also aren’t fucking horny?!” Alfred shouted out—perhaps too loud, as the two other people in the shop looked at him weirdly after that declaration.
“Well, why don’t you just get him sunflowers? If I recall correctly, I saw him looking at sunflowers before,” Francis said before Alfred could shout again.
“Dude, I don’t know… what if—”
“Just get him the sunflowers,” Francis insisted.
Alfred looked away, feeling heat rise up to his face. “Alright… okay,” he said bashfully.
The two of them walked to the little area with the sunflowers; Francis picked the one that “looked the best.” Once they had made their decision, they walked to the counter to pay.
“Alfred, as your friend that is way more experience than you in certain affairs, why are you putting so much effort into a ‘prank?’” Francis teased while they walked outside.
Alfred pressed his lips together and scratched the back of his head. “Well… uh, I don’t want to do a crappy job at pranking someone?”
Francis turned to look Alfred in the eye, stopping Alfred from walking. “Alfred, don’t you dare look at me and lie to my face. I can tell there's definitely something more than deception.”
“I—uh… I do feel more for Ivan! I hate him! Despise him even! He’s so… pesky and… stupid! Whenever I see him I feel myself getting mad—theres just something so irritating about him! He always catches my attention in the worst way possible! So, yes, I do feel something more than indifference!” God, it really hurt Alfred inside to say all of these things about Ivan that weren’t true!
Before Alfred could continue his little rant, Francis looked like he saw a ghost. “Alfred, Ivan walked past you after… all of that.”
“Oh.” So that platinum blonde haired man that he saw in the corner of his eye was Ivan. Really? He was praying for it to not be him!
“Oh… fuck!”
Francis looked amused and that wasn’t helping Alfred’s worried mind. “He didn’t look that annoyed—he only rolled his eyes.”
Fuck! Ivan rolled his eyes at Alfred, who was basically slandering him! Did that mean he didn’t care enough about Alfred to be more annoyed? Or did he seem more chill just because he was in public? Either way, it was bad!
“So… uh, hopefully these flowers make his mood better!”
Ivan didn't actually expect his little secret admirer to come back and give him something. Much less did he expect it to be something he actually liked.
At his desk was… a huge bouquet of sunflowers. At least the flowers he did get were his favorite, so the person definitely knew more about him than he expected. The chances of it being real went from one percent to maybe ten percent.
Everyone else watched in awe—of course they did—why would Ivan receive an extravagant gift for valentines and not anyone else.
Yao came up from behind, surprising Ivan. “What do you have there, Ivan?”
Ivan put it aside not caring for it much. “Oh, nothing, just something from my supposed admirer, though I do think it’s just a trick—they already woke me up at two in the morning and dropped by a cake.”
“That does seem juvenile—what is that attached to it?” Yao asked.
“Oh, that? Probably a note, they left one too earlier,” Ivan said, grabbing the small piece of paper.
“I’ll read it. ‘Here are some flowers, I hope you like them! They remind me of you, especially when you smile whenever you see Alfred fall!” Yao read out loud, holding back a laugh.
“That’s… oddly specific. Why would they think about that?”
“Hm, they must see you often,” Yao noted.
“Hah! What is this! How come you got a gift like that and not me?” Gilbert cut in, his brass voice ringing in Ivan’s ear.
“I don’t know—but it’s painfully obvious why you haven’t gotten any gifts for Valentines,” Ivan retorted in his sickly sweet tone and smile.
“Eugh, dude, whatever. I'm bound to get something awesome!” Gilbert babbled, walking away from them.
Ivan took the note from Yao’s hand, crumpled it, and put it in his pocket. Yao raised an eyebrow at that. “Are you interested in your admirer?”
“Anyone who is apparently attracted to me interests me. Why would they subject themselves to something so horrible?”
Finally! Classes were over for today.
Alfred had already been swarmed by multiple people throughout the day, and to be frank, it was annoying. It wasn't like he didn't like the attention, it was just getting kind of annoying now. Boxes of chocolates, flowers, creepy love letters—you name it.
Alfred let out a small huff as he was walking to his dorm. What did these people even know about him? They probably didn't know how freaked out he was getting over something so little. They probably didn't know that he wasn’t as “casual” and “laidback” as he tried to be. They didn't know how he—
They just didn't know.
It was weird. Why would they like him based on something so shallow? Was it because of his looks? Well, he couldn't deny that he didn't look bad, (it did stroke his ego after all) however why him out of all people? There were certainly more people that had “crush” potential.
Ugh! Why was he getting so worked up over this? Normally he wouldn't be thinking like this—infact he would be delighted to see how many people liked him? What changed?
…
Fuck, he knew what changed.
Ivan. Ivan changed him.
Maybe it was because of his little… crush on Ivan that he saw past the surface level “crushes” that people had on him. They saw an okay guy and decided to have a crush on him? He couldn't believe that.
But, Ivan. Oh, Ivan. He was definitely really into him. I mean, for goodness’ sake, he was noticing how he sat, how he held his pencil, and how he moved his head! If that wasn't at least a crush, then what the hell was it?
His grip on his bag tightened. Right. He needed to prepare the next “prank.” Was this even a prank anymore?
He walked into his dorm, then turned to the small bedside table and opened the drawer.
His journal.
He sat on his bed, flipping through the pages, and with each page, he seemed to remember the good, the bad, the funny—everything. Ah, what a nostalgic trip.
His hands stopped at one page. It had small tear marks at the bottom and was dedicated to Ivan. That would do.
Fuck! What was he thinking! He would literally die if Ivan found out it was him giving this stuff… what would he think of him? Would he be disgusted? Amused?
He closed his eyes for a brief moment and gripped the bedsheets with more force than he should have. Okay, that didn't matter. There was no way Ivan would figure out it was him, right? And at least he got to think someone actually liked him.
He folded a couple of pages that were about… Ivan. With that out of the way, he grabbed a pair of scissors and cut out those pages.
He looked around his room, trying to find something to put the pages in, and he saw an envelope that was from… someone. That would be perfect. He quickly stuffed the pages inside and ran out of his dorm, stumbling around in the process.
He checked his phone, messaging Francis. He would probably know where to find Ivan.
Alfred: yo yk wjere Ivan is
Alfred: dude AKAKJSJSJSJSJJ im dying over here
Francis: Im not sure u can just ask Yao though
Alfred: wow so useful bro
Okay, never mind, he was going to check with Yao.
Alfred: hey uh dyk where Ivan is
Yao: I last saw him going to the library. Why?
Alfred: no reason gtg bye dude
Okay, okay, library. He was probably… reading a book. He did see him reading a book called “Maurice” or something. Yes, he did like reading. From his observations, Ivan liked reading—maybe he should've gotten him a book—okay! This was stupid! He should just really find Ivan.
Alfred ran (well he couldn't really run, so he just jogged) past other people, hoping he wouldn't run into anyone. Sadly, in the corner of his eye, he saw a random girl… who seemed to be looking at him. Well that was bad. He went to an intersection in the hallway and turned left. God, hopefully she was gone… he needed to do this. Fast.
After he was certain she wasn't there, he kept making his way to the library. Why did they have to put the library on the fourth floor and the farthest possible area from the dorms? Did the architects want to subject people who wanted to read, study, (or in Alfred's case) get laid?
Finally, he arrived at the library. It was barren—so barren that the only person he saw was Ivan. Well, this was going to be hard. How would he give these without Ivan literally seeing him? He could say: “Oh, someone wanted me to give this to you,” but that was stupid! Maybe he could wait for Ivan to get something and just place it where he was sitting—okay, he was walking away.
Alfred quickly ran as quietly as he could, (which seems hard, but he somehow got it done) placed the little bundle of love letters, and got the fuck out of there! God, that was stressful—at least he didn't have to worry about Ivan more today.
…
Okay, that was a lie.
He was still worrying about Ivan.
He was doing something so horrific to someone he liked! How could he just pretend to be someone that didn't exist? What if he broke Ivan's heart?
But… What if all of this would indirectly make him closer to Ivan? What if… Ivan was so distraught by this happening that he went to Alfred about it? (Alfred acknowledged that this would never happen, but a boy can dream.) He could help Ivan recover and get closer to him… maybe even—
No! Bad Alfred! What sane person thinks that breaking the heart of the person they were interested in would make the person like them? That was like, highly immoral!
He felt his stomach drop. Why was he doing this to poor Ivan? No person should be subjected to this! And he couldn't do anything about it…
No, actually, he could! He could ask Arthur what his problem was with Ivan! It would exactly fix this whole debacle, but at least it would let Arthur know that Ivan wasn't that bad, and who knows? The others might realize that too!
Oh, and of course, he would fess up for the whole thing. It would be so awkward, but at least he could get it off of his chest. Alfred F. Jones now had a goal for today.
He left the library before calling Francis. “Hey, dude, do y’know where Arthur is?”
“He's right here with—” Francis suddenly got quiet. “I mean, he's… at his dorm. Yes, he's at his dorm.”
“Okay man, uhm, bye to you and your gay stuff.” Arthur's dorm! Okay, he would go there now.
When Ivan returned to his seat in the library, he saw a disgustingly decorated envelope. Normally, he wouldn't exactly just go about reading something like this, but he was feeling nosy, and he was pretty sure this was deliberately placed here.
He opened it and saw a multitude of letters. He decided to open one first. He could kill some time.
Dear… diary thing?
Omg Ivan talked to me today!!! He was a lil nicer than he usually was so thats probably a win 4 me! Do I have a chance? This is literally so amazing dude what else could I ask for? Oh also he looks hot sweaty lmfao god is good and god bless pe class
That was… mildly concerning, but Ivan was intrigued. He was “hot” when he was sweating? What person would ever think of him like that? He grabbed the next letter.
Dear diary,
I heard Arthur say Ivan is like fucking ugly or something but thats like not true at all omg. He looks like a mixture of a man and a woman in the best way possible. Like omg his features are so mwah if I would ever be with him I would just be so content every day istg. Was he created in gods image of a beautiful man? Anyways he always catches strays lmfao which is unfair tbh like guys hes not that bad I swear yall just dont see it like I do
That was… oddly sweet. Too bad it was probably just a lie. Maybe Ivan wanted it to be true. Maybe. He played with his lower lip, peeling the dry skin off. Next one.
Dear diary,
Okay I REALLY want Ivan now. More than I did before. Like omg yes act cold to me that's so hot and thats just turning me on. Idk man just something about an intimidating russian that has a softer side is soooo nice. Ugh I wish I could be like close to him or something too bad were like totally different and people would tease the shit out of me if they found out I wanted to be his friend much less have a big fat crush on him lol
Ivan raised an eyebrow while reading that. He had a suspicion that it was… that person but that seemed crazy! I mean, it wouldn't be the worst out of all his options, but there was no way he would be into him. No way. He found himself reaching for the next and last letter though.
God, I just wish I could tell someone else about my feelings. I wish I could tell him myself, but I'm a stupid coward. Why must I be forced to hide these feelings? What is the problem with being a man liking another man? I know a couple of gay dudes and no one cares, so why am I hiding this? Hell, I'm not even forced to hide anything, I just can't tell anyone about this. What would they think of me? What would they think of Ivan! I know I shouldn't care about others' opinions, but I just can't! If this makes me a coward, it's okay! I already acknowledged it! I might just cry if he ever got with anyone else. They might get what I wanted… what I coveted for so easily. I just don't want to see that, but I just can't seem to actually do something about this! He would never reciprocate whatever I feel towards him, it's idiotic to even think so. And even if he did, I would still somehow mess it up. I just wish there could be a different world, a different timeline, or just an excuse so that I could actually fess up about what I feel. I don't care if he doesn't reciprocate it, as long as I get some closure.
Ivan felt sympathy. He felt sympathy for whoever saw this in him. But, what could he do? The person that wrote it acknowledged the fact that he couldn't do it. If only Ivan was certain about who the person was, maybe he could help provide closure.
“Arthur? Arthur! Open up! I don't care if Francis is there, just open up!” Alfred shouted from outside the room.
Arthur opened the door, already looking tired. “Bloody hell, what is it?”
“Why'd ya want me to do all of that to Ivan!” Alfred blurted out.
Arthur shook his head in disbelief. “What? Why are you asking this now?”
Alfred crossed his arms, trying his best to look stern. It didn't work of course. “Because… because I… had an epiphany?”
“Okay… what does that have to do with this?” Arthur shot back.
Alfred groaned in frustration. “Just tell me, dude!”
Arthur pressed his finger to his chin. “Alright… I guess it was because he was meddling in something I was doing.”
“And by meddling you mean..?”
“Intruding in something I was doing with—why am I telling you this!”
“Because I asked, duh. But what was so bad you made me,” Alfred stopped talking for a moment to point at himself. “ Do this to him?” he said, trying to keep cool.
Arthur started blushing. Weird. “Let's just say it was… something he shouldn’t have seen. It isn't important, though. Aren't you not fond of him anyway? Why do you care so much?”
“Great talking to you, bye!” Alfred said, running back to where he was certain Ivan was now.
As Ivan walked back to his dorm, he suddenly saw Alfred running straight to him. That was… interesting.
“You, me, your dorm, now,” Alfred panted out. Well, that was said weirdly.
“And why would you want… that?”
“Just… trust me, bro!” Alfred said, already dragging Ivan to his own dorm.
Once the two of them were inside—Ivan and Alfred sitting on his bed, it was time for Ivan to actually question Alfred. “So, what is it that has you urging me to go with you inside my dorm?”
Alfred took in a deep breath—probably trying to keep himself calm—before starting to talk. “So, you know about the gifts you've been getting today?”
“Yes, I do. Why? Is this important?”
“So, I gotta fess up. That was me. All me. Arthur made me do it because I lost a bet and he was pissed at you for some reason, but now, I see that was a stupid idea,” Alfred started.
Ivan didn't know how to respond. At least his suspicions were correct. “So you came here just to tell me you were the person pranking me?”
Alfred rested his chin in his hand. “Yes! Well, not exactly. I came here, today, right now, spontaneously, because… I like you, Ivan.”
“You… actually do? I can't really believe that. After all, you did bother me with all of that. What are the chances that none of that was real?” Ivan pressed. This was actually fun, being to get Alfred flustered.
Alfred looked like he was genuinely about to cry. “Look, I know this might not be under the… best circumstances, but I really just didn't want to go about the rest of my life without telling you. If you read all of those letters—which I doubt you did—I hope you can at least understand me a little. I know this may not make up for what you might have felt, but I just want to get this off my chest. If there's any way to make it up to you I promise I will do whatever needs to be done!”
Ivan paused for a moment. Okay, Alfred just confessed—and he knew that it was true! Alfred… wasn’t lying. Never in a million years would make him think this could happen. “Alfred… uhm, okay. Okay.”
Alfred pressed his thumb to his lip. “Alright. Alright, uhm, what can I do to—”
Ivan cut him off. “—It's fine, Alfred. You don't have to worry about that.”
Alfred smiled softly. “Really? Did you accept that shitty apology?”
“No,” Ivan started. Alfred looked worried with that response; Alfred chuckled awkwardly. “What do you mean by that..?”
“Because you did more than that. You could say you ‘successfully courted me,’ Alfred. Also, I did read those letters, which might have helped me understand you more—and may or may have not helped with getting to a conclusion with my feelings for you, which, if you couldn’t tell, I feel the same way,” Ivan added, essentially ridding Alfred of his worries.
Alfred looked away, embarrassed. “Well… I'm flattered. Also, I might freak out because you feel the same way! Like, wow. I'm just so… excited? Thank you for—” he got cut off by Ivan’s lips brushing against his.
Ivan pulled away slowly. “You should really stop talking at times.”
Alfred's jaw was agape, and he was blushing so hard that Ivan was worried he was burning up. “By the looks of it, it looks like you… want to do that again?” Alfred could only nod in response. So, of course, Ivan pressed his lips against his again.
It was an… interesting experience. Alfred had that amateurish fervor to his actions, but that was somehow endearing. Alfred, who he had thought would have more experience than this, being worse than he expected. From how people talked about Alfred, it seemed like he was so experienced in this field. (Ivan wasn't any more experienced at this, but he may or may not have practiced kissing his pillow before.)
Ivan licked Alfred's lower lip, which got a… very pleasant sound out of him. Ivan continued to passionately kiss Alfred, getting more and more worked up. Alfred stifled but opened his mouth anyways. He tasted like coke, which probably wasn't the best taste if you were kissing someone, but it was so Alfred, and that's all that mattered.
Their teeth clacked against each other, their necks craned in an uncomfortable way, but neither of them seemed to care much. Alfred wrapped his arms against Ivan's broad frame, indirectly (or directly depending on how you looked at it—Alfred did seem to be pretty into this) deepening their kiss.
They continued in an awkward yet exciting manner. After a while, they both pulled away, only a string of saliva reminding them of what they did.
“So,” Alfred started. “Did you eat the cake? Because I feel like this would be a good time to eat it.”
Ivan wiped away the saliva on his lips and smiled. “Is that all you think about other than me? But, yes I do.”
Alfred blushed. “So… uhm, are we officially… you know, dating?”
“Well, I guess you could say so. I guess that whole ‘prank’ thing wasn’t all for vain.”
1 week later,
Arthur and Francis were in Arthur’s dorm, watching a romantic movie while laying on the couch. The lights were dim, the mood was there, they were watching a romance movie—something was definitely going to happen.
Francis rested his head on Arthur's chest, smiling to himself. “Hey, Arthur, have you heard?”
“Hm? Heard what?” Arthur asked. It was probably just some stupid gossip that didn’t matter—
“Alfred and Ivan are finally together! I thought it would never happen!”
“Say what now?”