Chapter Text
Going to college in America. Making friends. Living in a dorm. Being himself.
Those were things that a young Ivan Braginsky had probably never thought were possible to achieve. Yet, here he was–lying on his friend’s bed as he was comfortably reading. He had been living in America for quite some time now, around 2-3 years or so, and being able to find his bearings in this relatively foreign environment with the help of a decently close friend was a blessing.
Despite being a blessing, Alfred F. Jones proves that everything good comes with a few caveats, such as his inability to work on his assignments on time. The man had a knack for being a bit of a nuisance, to both his friends and his professors, but Ivan didn’t really mind that much. It was a small price to pay for someone who wasn’t weak and cowardly. The American’s eyes were fixated on his laptop screen, his posture reminiscent of a shrimp as he types up a storm.
“Augh..” He groans, catching Ivan’s attention. “This shit is too much. I still need, like, two hundred more words!!”
“You should have started it a week before, Alfred.” Ivan hums, not taking his eyes off his required reading. “You keep on waiting till the day of the deadline, maybe you should study with me during the day.”
“Study with you..” Alfred grimaces, leaning on his chair as he pulls a face at his friend. “As if bruh! I know you’re going to beat my ass if I don’t lock in.”
“Mmm,” His purple eyes finally glanced at Alfred . “We might have to implement that now if you’re not careful.”
“Fine fine, I got it man. Hold your damn horses.. Threatening me while you’re on my cozy bed, you really are cruel.” The blonde mumbles, his keyboard making noise once again. “You could be messing up Mattie’s bed instead, but nooo. You say that it’s not nice. When did you care about being nice?” He grumbles to himself.
“I am nice to your brother because he isn't an asshole, and he studies with me.” Ivan chuckles, admiring how Alfred just ignores him as he continues to type his heart out—pausing in intervals to shove a chip in his mouth. The man never really stops eating, does he?
Ivan closes his book, finally finished with his required readings for the week, and stretches his arms.“Speaking of your brother, where is he? He’s usually around..”
“You know, he isn’t the smart and hardworking guy you think he is. He’s probably out smoking weed with his buds, or at that one party he told me about
“Oh? What party?”
“Uhh, it was at one of his classmate’s house. They live nearby and they apparently have free drinks and stuff.” Alfred says as he keeps consistently typing. Impressive for a guy who always had a hard time paying attention. “We could go if you’re up for it..”
“A party?... Sure.”
“Wait, really?” His typing stopped altogether, as he turned his head towards the Russian, mouth slightly agape as it turned up into an eager grin. “Man! I didn’t expect you to say yes!”
“Why not?” Ivan asks, sounding a bit hurt.
“Oh you know.. You’re kind of…” Weird? Off putting? He trails off awkwardly, “Nevermind. I shouldn’t be judgin’ ya like that.”
Ivan wasn’t really surprised at Alfred’s shocked expression, but he couldn’t help but feel a bit hurt. To be frank, these moments of misunderstanding is a reminder that despite their wholesome companionship, they don’t really know each other that well. They knew of each other’s habits, mannerisms, and bits of their past–yet they never really had a chance to challenge and adapt with one another.
This friendship bloomed quickly, but the roots weren’t deep enough just yet; deep inside, Ivan wished for it to happen, but it only proved difficult because of their differences. It felt horrible to realise that.
Their differences probably played a part in this disconnect. Alfred was a very extroverted man, always so quick to make plans and hard to ignore. He was as warm as the sun, so there was no surprise that he had other friends to be with, to laugh and joke around with.
Ivan, on the other hand, was more withdrawn, isolated and cold. It had been hard for him to make any friends, and when he did, it felt like a connection made from pure necessity rather than companionship.
The boys’ friendship was odd in the sense that they were both so different; so different in fact, that you might have thought that they would have been better as rivals. He had a feeling that it may have resorted to that if they weren’t dorm neighbors who were desperate for a connection. Alfred could make so many friends by just a flash of his smile; Ivan wasn’t really special.
Even so, Ivan felt himself yearn for a closer friendship with the obnoxious man sporting a hero-complex.
“Hey, Ivan!” Alfred’s voice snapped Ivan out of his thoughts. He looked up to see the American standing triumphantly in front of him. “Guess who submitted his assignment in time!”
“Is it Matthew?”
“Okay, you really need to stop glazing my bro. It’s kinda weird.”
“Alright. Well, congratulations.”
“Thanks dude. Now get up, we gotta go before they run out of drinks!!”
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Cheap drinks and broke college students, a combination that results in a successful–yet overwhelming–party.
“Wow.” Ivan breathed as they stood in front of the house party. It looked like those American college movies with fraternities and all of that nonsense, well, perhaps their college also had those but he didn’t care enough to learn. Surprisingly, though, it didn’t seem rowdy.
“Yeah, wow is right..” Alfred whistles, his hands in his pockets. “Looks pretty rich, there might be some vodka for you, ruskie.”
“Hm, for some reason I don’t believe you.”
And to doubt is to be correct, as they both awkwardly entered the building, a table with bottles was waiting for them near the staircase. None of them were vodka. They both exchanged glances, trying not to burst into laughter.
“Ah, see? Only cheap beer.” Ivan was chuckling, grabbing a red solo cup and filling it up. “Beggars cannot be choosers, I suppose..”
“Awh man, sorry dude. Can’t get you a taste of home, huh?” Alfred splutters, patting him on the back.
Before Ivan could whine about the drinking laws in America to his friend, he found Alfred already talking to someone else. He felt a twinge of irritation as he watched his friend carelessly laughing with the man, but he smiles nonetheless.
Ivan knew what he was getting himself into, Alfred was a sociable man and is someone who loves attention. It just felt strange to see someone else giving him that attention. He had to admit, watching Alfred being pushed around by the man was amusing.
“Oh, dude! You gotta meet my buddy, Ivan Braginsky!” Alfred beamed, his hand gesturing at Ivan as if he was a prize, causing him to flush a little.
“Hello.” Ivan says, trying to smile his sweetest of smiles. Being friends with Alfred truly had its advantages. Other than being a humorous companion, he was also a great icebreaker.
“Yeah.. uh, nice to meet you. I’m Lovino.”
“Yes, pleasure meeting you too. I hope we become good friends!” He outstretches his hand for a handshake, which earned a muffled giggle from Alfred. Ivan could almost tell what he was thinking: “No need to be so formal, dude.”
“I.. yeah.” Lovino coughed awkwardly, giving a reluctant—and shaky— handshake. “Well, see you around. Stay safe, Alfred.” He says with an edge to his voice, as if he was trying to be intimidating, before he pushes Alfred out of his way and skitters away.
“Did I do something wrong?” Ivan frowns, staring at the man before he disappears into a group of people.
“Not really.. Maybe I should have introduced you to someone who was less of a… coward.” Alfred sighs, offering a comforting pat on the back. “Lovino is a bit of a pussy, he acts all tough but he gets intimidated easily.”
Alfred grabs a cup of his own and fills it with diet coke and beer, and takes a drink. “We gotta find you someone who can actually handle your whole kablang.”
“Kablang?”
“Oh you know, your spark? Your own charm? Like.. your …” Alfred snaps his fingers as he tries to think of something nice, “You’re kind of like an onion!” He blurts out as if he was a philosopher figuring out the meaning of life.
“Alfred, we have just rewatched the Shrek movies last week.”
“I’m not saying that your looks are like Shrek! I meant your…”
“I was not implying that you think I look like him, but now you are planting seeds of doubt in my mind. I hope you mean personality?”
"Of course not! You’re a handsome guy!” (Ivan blushes) “I obviously meant in the personality!"
Alfred always seemed to find a way to make people a bit more open, whether it was his genuine charm or his own obnoxious nature is Ivan’s guess because it sure was working on him. Ivan couldn’t help but grin.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
An hour or so later, Ivan found himself alone in the dining room near the kitchen, the table filled with alcoholic drink sand snacks, his friend nowhere near him–but still within his sights. Alfred was chatting up with a group of people in the living room, Ivan tried his best to be friendly and to be kind but failed miserably. Whenever words came out of his mouth to contribute to the conversation, it was as if it was a spell to silence them all to a few awkward laughs and averted gaze. It felt deliberate, it felt like betrayal. Alfred didn’t even try to stand up for him, to try to insert Ivan back into the conversation. His laughter was lighter, more careless, and his hands were wandering a lot more than usual. So, Ivan just retreated to drinking a few more of the bad drinks. It was definitely easier to digest compared to his inability to connect with others.
As he wearily watches the tipsy Alfred joke around with his new group, he wonders what has gotten him into this. Not the party, nor his friendship, but his whole life. Perhaps it was the alcohol, but he feels his stomach churn as he thinks of every rejection, strange looks, betrayal, and loss of control in his short 20 years of living. He could almost taste the metallic blood on his tongue, the fearful looks of his so called “friends”. He was only trying to help them, that was the only way he was taught how to “fix” problems.
“Are you okay, Ivan?” A familiar voice asks, shaking the ashen blonde haired boy out of his state. As Ivan turned his head towards the sound, he realized that it was the twin–Matthew.
“Hello.” Ivan mumbles, nodding as if to validate Matthew’s existence, or to shake himself out of his spiral. “Nice to see you. How are you?” It was the usual script for his greetings, automatic, and disingenuous.
“I’m.. alright.” The boy sighs, fiddling with his curl. “I think you should stop drinking.”
The taller man raises his eyebrow, confused. “It isn’t that bad.”
“No, I know. But you don’t look too good.”
“What? Are you calling me a lightweight?” Ivan chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “What an insult.” Despite Matthew’s obvious concern in his voice, Ivan only focused on how condescending it was. Matthew didn’t know who he was, his brother did.
Matthew opened his mouth as if to reply, but closed it before anything could be said. Ivan snickered at the sight. Matthew’s face really did look like Alfred–besides the darker eyes–Ivan could recognise the features and it was amusing to witness the somewhat familiar eyes look so insecure. He never saw Alfred look pathetic before, and he knows that this is the closest that he would ever get.
“You just seem distressed...” Matthew finally replies, glancing at the tight grip Ivan had on his beverage. “You might spill your drink everywhere if you keep holding it like that..”
“Oh?” Ivan released his grip and watched as the cup fell on the ground. Matthew backed away instinctively, but sighed in relief once he realised it was empty. “Thank you for telling me that. Was that better?” He laughs sarcastically, glaring down at the man.
“Is… Alfred here with you?”
Ivan paused, then shook his head slowly. Yes, he was technically in the party, but he wasn’t currently there with him. He watched Matthew’s face, waiting for a reaction, for a remark on how Alfred was literally a walking distance away, but instead of that, the curly haired boy only nodded with a blank expression. It felt strange to look at someone that looks like Alfred but not know exactly what he was thinking. Then again, did he really know Alfred? Did Alfred really know him?
He shifts his gaze away from Matthew to try and look for Alfred. Matthew tried talking, but he was tuned out as Ivan looked around–almost desperate to see the familiar face. Ivan felt himself soften a little as he recognised the blonde man, Alfred was just waving over to someone… A reluctant looking man with brown hair. A familiar reluctant looking man with brown hair.
Matthew started talking, something about how he was feeling tired and how he wanted to go back to his dorm, but Ivan was too busy squinting at the two as he tried to figure out who…
Tolys.
Ivan felt his stomach churn as he watched Alfred ruffle Tolys’ hair affectionately, it all felt like too much. What is wrong with Ivan?