The King of Clubs lay in his huge bed, the covers pulled up to keep the cold air out and another body warm. That body laid on top of the King's, his fingers entwined with the Club's silver hair.
"Are you alright?" the King whispered to the heavily panting man.
"Never been better." The Ace of Spades lifted his head slightly, his eyes finding the King's. Flashing his best hero grin, Alfred snuggled against the giant. "What about you?"
Ivan didn't answer, instead tightening his hold on the Spade.
Alfred sighed happily and ran his fingers down Ivan's face, coming to rest on Ivan's bare neck.
"Are you ever gonna tell me what happened?" Alfred asked, his fingers exploring every inch of the scarred flesh.
Ivan sighed and took Alfred's hands in his own. Alfred smiled as Ivan gently kissed the pads of all ten fingers.
"Perhaps someday I will." Ivan finally said.
"Dude, you say that every time." Alfred grumbled laying his head back on Ivan's chest.
"Then stop asking." Alfred's head snapped up again.
"I made you mad." He said. Ivan chuckled.
"You've done no such thing."
"Yeah, I have, I can see it."
"Alfred, you don't have your glasses on." Ivan reminded him. "You can't see a thing."
"But you're mad at me now." Alfred sat up completely, his legs straddling Ivan's wide hips.
Ivan groaned. "I will be mad if you don't stop this nonsense." He took hold of Alfred's shoulders and pulled him back down.
They were silent for a moment and Ivan relished the warm, soft body wrapped in his arms.
"So, you're not mad?" Ivan suddenly flipped him over and sat up.
"Do you wish to see me angry?" he asked, the huge smile playing at his lips.
"Not really, no."
"Then just hush," Ivan lay down next to his lover. "And hold me."