Hey guys! So I wrote this a while ago, because I figured that the cardverse needs more love~ Enjoy!

Ivan, King of Clubs, ruler of the easternmost expanse of frosted ground and tundra was—for the first time in his young life-happy. And happiness was not something normally fated for the rulers of this particular Suite Family, who's rulers often found themselves doomed to early or tragic ends.

But it would seem that, finally, the head of the Club Family would be treated to some joy, and Ivan found himself uncaring of whether it was momentary or not.

At the moment, Ivan was seated in his throne, curled and carved and ornate and stretching almost to the high ceiling, the massive hall entire empty save for Ivan and the Spade King, his one-time foe, the newfound source of his joy—who was currently rocking himself against the Club King's sitting form, sweat beading down the young brow as he tried to suppress a moan.

It seemed they were to officially bond their union tonight.

Because now, after years and years of strife and conflict between their two states-countless skirmishes that, thankfully, never broke out into a full-fledged war-the kingdom's had finally called for official peace and relieving of tensions between the opposing sides.

Which was a relief, as it of course allowed the rulers of Spade and Club to relieve certain tensions of their own. For you see, Ivan and Alfred had been helplessly in love for quite some time now.

In the past, official banquets crowded with advisors and nobility left Ivan and Alfred with sparse time to see each other despite their stature, their meetings trimmed to secluded nights on the balcony, clandestine hidings together in the nooks of the castle ramparts—

But now, now with the alliance formed in ink and paper, they felt safe enough, ostensible enough to take each other in the typically public, crowded throne room in the heart of Ivan's sprawling palace.

The throne was overlarge enough to fit them both comfortably, made wide and roomy for the sheer volume of Ivan's typical regal garb. However, he had shed all the thick trappings so he could feel Alfred up against him, around him—

Alfred fisted his hands in the emerald green of Ivan's collar, moaning against his pinking lips as the Club King's fingers, shed of the thick silk of his gloves, gripped tight into his bare hips and helped him jerk up against gravity before sliding back down with a throaty sigh.

The other ruler's dark blue pants had been thrown haphazardly over the throne's ornately carved arm, his sharp-collared cloak still hanging around his shoulders, dark patches of coital sweat forming along the creases in the fabric as he moved in tandem with the Club King's jerks and upward thrusts.

Their movements grew faster and more frenzied, making the back of the throne flex and shake slightly, and Ivan fretted for a moment that their violent lovemaking would snap the generations-old seat of the Family of Clubs, but the worry fled him when Alfred leaned in and twined their tongues, fingers pressing onto his heightened cheekbones.

Huffing his breath into the other man's mouth, Ivan's hands slid further down from the Spade King's hips and found the lumps of his soft behind, digging his nails into the skin and pulling the ruler further onto him, making him break the kiss and cry. Ivan trilled along with him.

"Alfred—!"

He had not been able to call the other ruler by his own name in so very very long, and had no chance to again as Alfred again rocked forward into a kiss, long and languid on Ivan's lips.

In truth they had probably always been destined for each other—sharing a common bond through being the two black suited families of the Card Kingdoms-but it was more than just that.

Yes, they had been destined for each other since the moment Ivan had offered Alfred a bunch of white and pale pink flowering trefoils on a clear spring evening—because once upon a time, the Clubs had not been Clubs but the Clovers, 'til one of Ivan's warmongering sires had changed it to harden the family's reputation—and they had promised each other, Alfred swearing on the premature tomb of his mother that someday, he would find a way to bind the two of them together—

The memory made an additional wetness sting the corner's of Ivan's passion flushed eyes, looking up past his whitened brows to see Alfred, the contorted and pinked face of the man sending jolts of pleasing fondness to his loins as he nudges his way into Alfred's mouth, one soft kiss gracing his slackened lips.

Feeling himself almost completed, Ivan squeezed Alfred's rear tightly, holding him down and close as he unravel with a stunted exhale, the Spade King scrabbling for purchase as he came as well, staining both his waistcoat and the crumpled peridot silk of Ivan's gown.

Alfred immediately crumpled and flopped his head on Ivan's shoulder, trying to calm his breath and throbbing heart, his ear slightly above Ivan's own, which was still racing in leaps and bounds, slowly grinding back to a sated crawl.

He felt gloved fingers against his scalp as Ivan ran his hand through his soft blonde hair, leaning down a bit to kiss the curve of Alfred's ear.

"I have missed this—"

He kissed down again and again, over the crown of Alfred's hair, sweaty strands sticking to his nose as they brushed over his scalp.

"I have," He exhaled into the blonde head, "Missed you."

And at that, a thought drifted back that made Ivan's chest ache. He knew that Alfred would have to leave back to his own kingdom tomorrow, leaving Ivan alone with the pomp and pretense of his crowded but empty palace-

"I want to stay." Alfred mumbled, barely audible through the fabric of Ivan's robe. But the Club King heard, and he glanced down at Alfred in surprise.

"What do you mean?"

Alfred tilted his head, resting his temple against the cushion of Ivan's shoulder as he looked up at his newfound lover, eyes half-closed and glistening.

"I want to stay through the winter, Ivan. Arthur can take care of things back home in the meantime, I don't care. But I want to stay through the winter so I can see the clovers bloom in springtime. With you."

Even though his bones still felt as if they were made of gelatin, Alfred raised his head and grazed Ivan's lips in a sweet, close kiss, sighing as Ivan's hands cupped his cheeks and held him there. Ivan felt his lips and his breath as he spoke.

"You're the King of Clovers, after all."