Ivan lost his breath. His world was suddenly crashing and crumbling beneath his feet. It took him a minute to register that the voice coming out of the phone was attempting to catch his attention back.
"Da I am listening. Sorry." He quickly replied.
"It's ok. I'll call later to talk to Francis and catch up some more. Kat sends her love by the way. Bye Ivan." The small voice in the telephone answered back.
"Tell my sister I love her too. Bye Matthew, take care." Ivan hanged up the phone, slumping back into the couch, a hand covering his face. The crushing sensation upon his chest was making it harder to breath, yet he would not let himself cry over this. He would not let the fact that his relationship with Francis would reach its imminent end crumble his heart. He would not let himself fall into despair.
It was expected that this would happen someday, Ivan reasoned with himself. Or at least, it had been when both he and Francis had started the entire relationship. The relationship had not begun by any conventional way, no, they had started this entire partnership as a way to cope with the misery that came seeing the ones they truly loved with someone else. It had all started because of Alfred and Arthur. When Alfred and Arthur had first started dating, both Ivan and Francis would find themselves miserably watching the happy couple wishing it had been them instead.
Everyone knew Francis and Arthur had history together, more than anyone else could even imagine. Regardless of their multiple differences, they were an inseparable force, they stuck together at their best and at their worst. They knew each other so well that they would start to feel hate between them. Yet there would be moments in time when their care for the other could not find greater match. Even with Francis acting as a flirt and a playboy, people could see the one he truly loved had always been Arthur. Everyone but Arthur himself. The British was the only person whom refused to acknowledge that the French man's love was genuine. Their relationship however never managed to pass the friends with benefits stage, the love and hate that they had for each other being too unstable and conflicting for Arthur to allow them to try something more meaningful. They were forever stuck in a cycle between friends, lovers and sworn enemies. Yet Francis never stopped loving the short-tempered British.
Ivan and Alfred had an equally frustrating love and hate relationship, but neither of them went as far to consider the other a friend. They met due to theirs sibling's relationship. When their eyes had first crossed, the sexual tension between them was visible. Yet when they first spoke to each other, they soon realised that they could not stand each other's personality. It had been a completely physical bond, where their angry and hateful disputes would fill their desire and the only way to solve the tensions was to have them fucking each other relentlessly. It wasn't a healthy relationship, or even a relationship of any sort. It was basic instinct. It just was. However, Alfred soon became an obsession for Ivan, his presence making emotions crawl under Ivan's skin like no one else had ever managed to bring forth. It was a desire to possess, own, and control, a desire to completely dominate the other. Ivan called it love, and wanted more then what they had, Alfred called it creepy and wanted none of it.
A tear fell from Ivan's eye as he began to remember the start of his unexpected relationship with the Frenchman. He could vividly remember the first time that Francis approached him with the idea that started the entire thing, the night they first had sex to dull the pains of a broken heart. Alfred and Arthur were still in the beginning of their relationship, acting as lovesick puppies with one another, making Ivan nauseous with jealousy and anger. Back then, he had not really known Francis, having only spoken to him in few short times when Alfred was still flirting with Arthur. He knew Francis was feeling the exact same way as he was about the beginning of the American and British's relationship. However, while Ivan dealt with stress and anger with physical violence, Francis used sex. Therefore, the French man had been the one that approached him one night, when social conventions and chance had forced the two of them together to witness the happy couple lost in their own little love world. Francis had come offering his sympathies and understanding, and an idea of mutual support.
"And why would sleeping with you help me?" Ivan had asked, quite insulted but still intrigued. He did not feel like Francis' pity sex would actually help him cope in any way, but he was not ready to refused a one-night stand with the blond man if it meant not being miserable for the night.
"You can pretend it will make him jealous." Francis answered a glass of wine I his hand and a longing look towards Arthur's back while the Brit was laughing at something Alfred had said. "So jealous that he would come to take you away and into his arms."
Ivan looked toward Alfred's smiling face, drinking away with his boyfriend in his arms, and imagined it being him instead. "Is that what you tell yourself?"
"Every time."
So they started the entire thing. Whenever misery was too bad to bear alone, they would meet up and use the other to cope. Some people around them got worried when they noticed their newfound relationship. But it was easy enough to dismiss their worries and questioning looks by shrugging their shoulders and lying about the entire thing. However, their fake relationship was supposed to be nothing more than a casual thing, something to help them cope and move on, but it grew beyond both their expectations. Whenever they had to deal or interact with either Alfred or Arthur, they would just cling that much closer to each other. And as Alfred and Arthur's relationship grew more and more steady, somehow so did theirs.
Ivan never imagined that he would actually fall for the French man. He had not expected that a day would come when lying in bed with Francis in his arms would bring him the happiness he had searched in Alfred for so long. He believed that Francis was good to him, made him a better man then he had ever expected to be. Francis' constant support had helped him move on, he had learned to be gentle, to be thoughtful, and to appreciate the simpler things, he now had a better control over his temper then he had ever had, and it was all because of Francis. Francis was lovely, he was considerate and caring, yet he was intelligent and funny, charming everyone with his wits, he was an affectionate and supportive person. Everything Ivan had needed without knowing. He had grown to no longer desire to be with anyone but Francis.
Of course, he had never brought up his new feeling with Francis, too scared that he would be openly rejected and lose what they had built so far. And sure, Ivan and Francis were technically dating, referring to each other as their boyfriend and they had even started to live together, but the concept of love between them had never really existed or been discussed before. They were supposed to go along with it only because of Alfred and Arthur. It was Ivan's secret, and it was his hope, that as Alfred and Arthur progressed their relationship, he would be able to do the same with Francis, keeping the Frenchman with him forever.
Now however, everything Ivan had hoped for was ruined, for Alfred's brother, Matthew, had just casually informed him that Alfred and Arthur had broken up. Knowing that, Francis would no longer need him, he would be leaving Ivan to pursue after the one he truly loved, his long-time friend and rival Arthur. And Ivan would then be once more stuck alone, loving someone that did not love him back.
Ivan heard the lock of the front door. Francis was back home from grocery shopping. He stood up and quickly headed to greet him. The single tear mark on his cheek already dried up.
"Ah, mon cher, help me with the bags will you mon amour." Francis quickly asked as he pecked Ivan's lips as a greeting.
Ivan easily picked all the bags from Francis' hands and took them to the kitchen. Francis followed him and started to put everything in their place. Ivan helped out, but he could not stop looking at his soon to be ex-boyfriend. He was mesmerized by Francis' golden locks of hair falling to his shoulders and shinning brighter than any gold, the stubble in his chin that tickle his skin when they kissed. His smaller and leaner frame, yet toned to perfection, the body of a dancer and just as graceful. His magical hands that would cook Ivan's favourite meals, Francis' long and experienced fingers. Francis was the definition of gorgeous, an ideal of male beauty, and after today, Ivan would never be able to hold him again. Never be able to kiss those perfect lips or caress Francis's perfect skin, he would no longer be able to smell the perfume of wine and roses mixed with spices. No, Ivan could not let it to simply end like this.
"Is something the matter chéri?" Francis' blue eyes were suddenly on Ivan and he realised he had been starring. Yet it did not matter to him, he was not losing his Francis. He was not going to lose that man that had been so good to him for so long without at least trying to fight back.
With one swift step, Ivan closed the distance between them and pulled Francis into a deep kiss. Taking full advantage of Francis' surprise, he picked up his boyfriend with one arm while his other grabbed a fist full of the French man's luxurious golden hair keeping him from parting from the kiss. There was no struggle from Francis. He had long know that his Russian lover was impulsive and if such was his mood, Francis felt no need to deny him from the pleasures he could offer. Ivan carried him into their bedroom, kissing him gently and passionately.
Ivan was much taller and larger then Francis, he was also much stronger then him. So he had learned to be always careful when handling his lover, their first encounters resulting in Francis sporting some unfortunate bruising until Ivan had learned to control himself. However he had still remained impatient, and often times he was too demanding for Francis' liking, much preferring a quick release then the slow and tender love making that his French lover enjoyed better. But now Ivan was going to take his time. He had decided that he would kiss every surface of Francis' body, caress and hold him close just like Francis enjoyed and tell him sweet things into his ears until he could no longer think of things to say.
Ivan was determined to show Francis his love. To maybe convince the other to stay with him thru his actions. So he kissed and teased his moaning lover, taking his time and making things painfully slow. It didn't matter how much of a mess Francis was becoming or how much he was begging, Ivan was not going to let it finish until he had shown him his love. It didn't matter that halfway through he had started feeling his heart crumbling and tears were falling thru his eyes. He needed to show Francis that he loved him, he needed to find a way to tell him without words that he didn't want the other to leave. He wanted the tears in Francis' eyes to be of joy and pleasure, instead of the ones of misery on his own.
So he made love to him in a way they had never done it before. Ivan loved him sweetly and slowly, full of tenderness and loving, adoring Francis and filling him with all the love Ivan had for him. It was emotionally exhausting for the both of them. Francis had long become unable to handle and bare the loving words and caress, the love being poured into him had overflowed his emotions and brought him into tears along with his Russian lover.
It was silent then. Both men laying besides the other whipping each other's tears away. Francis smiled lovingly to his Russian boyfriend, whom had snuggled closer to him and seemed to be carrying a world above his shoulders.
"Ivan." Francis whispered into his lovers hand with a kiss. "Ivan mon chéri, look at me."
Ivan lifted his head to look into his beautiful lover's eyes.
"That was… Intense… to say the least." Francis remarked smiling to his lover as he fondled with his short platinum hair. "And I enjoyed it immensely my love. But you seem troubled." Francis kissed Ivan's large hands. "Talk to me."
Ivan held back the tears that threatened to come forth once more into his eyes, swallowing his imminent fears back into his chest. "My sister's husband called." He said calmly voice unfaltering, surprising even himself.
"Matthew? And is everything alright?" Francis asked concerned about what could have been said to bring such an odd behaviour from Ivan.
"They are fine." Ivan continued calmly. "But during the conversation, he brought up Alfred and Arthur."
"I see." Francis said softly, running his hand through Ivan's hair and holding him closer with the other.
Ivan saw Francis' face change from the relaxed yet inquisitive expression into a sad and understanding one. The one expression Francis always held when thinking about unrequired love. When thinking about Arthur. Even feeling the tug in his own heart, fearing losing his own happiness, Ivan could not bear to let his lover keep that expression for the rest of his life. He wanted more than anything that Francis found happiness, even when it meant that Ivan would have to give up on the happiness he had found. If Francis never again bore such sad expression his sacrifice would have been worth it.
Ivan pulled away from Francis, sitting on his heels as he prepared his heart. "Francis" He didn't know how to say it. How he would explain his disappointment and sadness to what was supposed to be great news for the both of them? How would he face Francis' joy about such news as his heart crumbled just a bit more? "Francis… Arthur and Alfred broke up."
Francis look up at Ivan puzzled, raising himself to his elbows in the bed. "Wha…?" But in a second his expression morphed, yet it was not the joy Ivan had expected, it had changed into something Ivan had never seen before. Francis' face was distorted into an expression of extreme hurt and anger Ivan had never seen before. "You bastard!" Francis grabbed the pillows behind him and started to throw them at Ivan.
Ivan was in a state of confusion. "I don't need your pity sex you ungrateful bastard!" Francis yelled at Ivan throwing at him whatever his hands could reach. "After everything I did! After everything HE did!" Tears streamed form Francis eyes now and the screams were followed by the sound of sobbing.
Ivan, in a state of desperate confusion reached out to grab Francis's wrists, before he got hit by something larger or heavier then Francis' books. "Francis. Francis listen to me."
"Release me!" Francis screamed at Ivan. "Run to your precious Alfred you cold hearted ingrate." Francis kept screaming and sobbing as he struggled to release himself from Ivan's grasps. "Release me! You should just have left! You should have just left me alone!"
"Francis!" Ivan screamed, one of his hands grabbed both of Francis' wrists together and the other held Francis' face to look at him. Ivan hated having to use force on his lover but he knew no other way to have his lover's attention for now. "Francis! Shut up and listen to me!"
Francis stopped his screaming and struggling, yet kept his eyes closed as the tears stained his face, unwilling to look up to the man he believed was leaving him.
"Francis." Ivan once again tried to speak calmly, the drumming of his heart inside his chest distracting him from thinking rationally. "Francis I would never leave you. I love you."
Francis slowly opened his eyes, processing the words he had heard. And looking upon his red-faced lover, beginning to believe those precious words had been spoken. "You're… You're not leaving me for Alfred?" Francis asked, still uncertain.
Ivan turned his head. "Nyet. No, Francis." Feeling Francis relax in his hands Ivan released his lover, not wishing to keep restraining him. "Francis, I love you." Ivan confessed once more, hoping that Francis would accept it, hoping that Francis would somehow not reject him.
Francis started to cry once more, but now he held a smile. "Idiot. I love you too." And as he said it Francis lifted himself to kiss Ivan. "I loved you for so long now. I was so scared I wasn't enough. That I would never be good enough."
Ivan tangled his hands into Francis hair feeling relieved to kiss, to be able to kiss his still lover Francis. "So you won't leave me for Arthur then." Ivan asked, more optimistic.
"Chéri, a life time with Arthur did not bring me a third of the happiness and love I have for you. I would be the worst of fools to even consider it." Francis replied tangling his own hands into his lover's hair and kissing his nose affectionately.
Tears where once more building up in Ivan's lavender eyes. "Spasibo. Thank you so much Francis." Ivan had to release his hands from Francis to wipe his tears away, ashamed of his fears and tears, yet relieved and reassured. "I was so scared of you leaving."
Francis kissed his Russian lover's brows before quickly leaving the bed. He dug deep into his closet searching for something that wold completely reassure his lover of his devotion to him. And in a moment he had what he wanted and returned to kneel before Ivan on their bed.
"I was planning something more romantic. But I guess now might be a good time for this." Francis said, revealing to his crying lover a small blue velvet box. "Ivan Braginski, you have been a light in my life filled with darkness, you are the reason I am the man I am today. I was lost before finally meeting you." Ivan's heart jumped to his throat as Francis opened the box revealing a platinum ring with a single diamond on it. "Would you do me the honour of being my husband?"
Ivan nodded instantly. "Da!" His heart was soaring, he would be with Francis forever, he would be able to have Francis all to himself for the rest of his life. All his fears had been unfounded and all his hopes and dreams were becoming true right in front of him. He could not have been happier in his life. And as Francis gently pushed the ring into his finger, kissing his knuckles in the process, Ivan could not have dreamed for a better person to spend the rest of his life with.