It was one of the biggest surprises ever when Yao awoke to the sound of his doorbell. Well, that wasn't the surprising part. I'm getting there. He threw on one of Ivan's shirts, one that he'd left behind after a very nice evening, one that was much too big for him and went down to just above Yao's knees. Next, he scurried downstairs and ran to the door, worried that the person outside might have left. Then again, he was ready to kill a man for waking him up so early. If this was a ding-dong-ditch, Alfred was going down.

He had expected it to be one of two things. One: Alfred leaving a baggie of flaming dog shit on his porch. Two: a parcel. He got neither. As he opened the door, he huffed. No-one stood there. Nothing was out of the ordinary, his porch was empty. He went to close the door, but he heard a small plop sound of tiny footsteps to his veranda, and looked around.

Here comes the surprising part. There, about as tall as a small cat, stood Ivan. Tiny. Tiny Ivan. Yao thought he was either dreaming or hallucinating. "Ivan?" he tilted his head. "Shit, I didn't drink last night, did I?" he mumbled, tilting his head.

"Yao Yao!" Little Ivan cried, hobbling closer to Yao on those adorable teeny tiny feet. "Yao, thank goodness!" Huffing and whining in his higher-pitched voice, Ivan threw his little arms around Yao's leg.

"Ivan-" Yao murmured, both amazed and confused. "Uh, Ivan, is that you?"

Ivan's small head bobbed, and he tried to crawl up Yao's leg. It took Yao a moment to realise that he didn't have pants on. He huffed and crouched in an instant, grabbing little Ivan and holding him up like one would a kitten, holding the arms up with thumb and index finger of either hand. "You're so small! What happened!"

"Wait, wait, can I sit on your shoulder!?" gasped Ivan, kicking his legs forward a little and being fucking adorable.

"Uh, sure," Yao sighed, and plopped the little man onto his shoulder, before closing the door and starting the walk back upstairs. "Please, tell me what happened."

"Okay, okay," Ivan huffed quietly, pushing his tiny hands up against Yao's cheek and pushing at it absently. "So, I was trying to ask our boss about the water cooler,"

"You mean the one he doesn't want?"

"Yeah, that one, the one we want in the main lobby."

"What an ass."

"Yeah!" Ivan huffed. "Did you know he's into black magic!"

"What, really?" Yao murmured, sitting down on his bed and turning his head a little to look at Ivan sitting upon his shoulder. All in all, he wasn't very surprised about Arthur supposedly being into black magic. He just kind of had a spooky aura. That kind of stuff. Oh, and the hex bags around the office might have had something to do with it. Well, he'd never have guessed Arthur would have actually performed it. Crazy boss man.

"I was asking him about the water cooler, and he had a hard time coping with the fact that some people drink water, and not tea." Ivan frowned, shuffling back and positioning himself to he laying over Yao's shoulder, resting on his belly. "Then he got really mad. I might have started staring, and I think he got upset and self-conscious. And I woke up this morning, and this."

"He's probably doing it because he's sick of being short compared to you." Yao observed, raising a brow. "Over a water cooler, really."

"Ya!" Ivan puffed all-too-cutely, shuffling forward even more and rolling down Yao's chest to land in his lap. "But being small is fun; I can crawl all over you and you're all big and I'm all small and it's like we're opposites!"

Yao elicited a weak sigh and propped little Ivan in his hand, resting him against his chest and gently petting his itty bitty head. "You are like a small cat."

"Myao!" gasped Ivan, nuzzling his head enthusiastically against Yao's chest. "Hey, is that my shirt?"

"Uh," said Yao, glancing down. Well, shit. "N-no!" he huffed, petting Ivan's head a little quicker. "Why would I have your shirt!"

"It is my shirt," argued Ivan, laughing quietly and tugging at the fabric. "Since when does Wang Yao wear shirts that promote death metal bands?"

"I am getting into death metal!" Yao lied noisily. "That is why I have the shirt!"

"Really," Ivan smirked. "This shirt is for an orchestra."

Yao groaned softly and knew that he'd lost to Ivan's sass. "Okay, it's your shirt."

"It's too big for you anyway," Ivan argued quietly, and then laughed. "Oh dear, seems it is too big for me now, too."

"It fits me better than you now," Yao puffed. "But anyway, perhaps I should sleep. This is surely a dream."

"I don't think it's a dream at all," Ivan refuted, clambering up Yao's chest and then up the side of his head. Once atop Yao's head, he ruffled his hair, and then leant down to cover Yao's forehead in tiny butterfly kisses.

"Ivan, you're going to have to go to cute boyfriend jail." Yao sighed, flopping backward and letting his head hit the pillow. Ivan giggled like a child and simply crawled all over Yao's face, kissing every inch of his cheeks and nose. "Tiny cute boyfriend jail."

"You're going to giant adorable sweet sauce-smelling.. Uh.. cute-.." Ivan was running out of adjectives here. "Uh! You're cute!"

"Thanks, little Ivan," Yao laughed tiredly, closing his eyes. "Now, I'm going to 'sleep', and when I wake up for real, you, figment of my dreams, will be gone." Yao closed his eyes, and let out a quiet huff.

"I know I'm dreamy, but gee," Ivan sassed quietly. He'd learned this kind of sassy perfection from Alfred. "Good things come in small packages, Yao Yao." Yao ignored him and tried to nap again.

Yao jolted awake perhaps an hour later. That, I must say, was due to his airways being cut off by his enormous Russian boyfriend laying on him and crushing him while he slept. Fucking black magic. So unreliable.

enjoy a fluffy oneshot i wrote at 1am on a school night uwu