xxx
"Run away with me."
xxx
It begins as a fad; the whole concept of writing on oneself has been brought to life after one of the many well-known celebrities has taken up the habit of marking their skin with some form of marker or felt pen and display some message in a place all could see. Whether it be some actual meaningful statement, whimsical musing, or a simple lyric from a favorite tune, throughout many magazines articles and television interviews and red carpet walks it would be there for all to behold.
Naturally, many of those who have taken the act to heart are the ones still kept behind school walls. As such, the linoleum floored hallways and desk compressed rooms, from the most public of governmental funded schools to the very ritzy institutes, have been filled with adolescents showing off what they've written on themselves for the day to friends and peers and others working on what is that should be written to later do the same.
"Hey, where's that one from?"
"I know that song!"
"I saw three other girls with the same thing in the same place."
"Yeah, I didn't watch it last night, I have no idea."
"Dude, Gossip Girl? Really?"
"Beilschmidt's gonna give you shit if you go into class with that all over you."
This last remark is met with a light laugh that brightens blue eyes and tossles blonde hair as his head tilts back, almost hitting the row of lockers behind him in the changing rooms.
"Alfred, I'm serious," another blonde, though with longer hair, goes on. "You know he hates all this writing on yourself crap and it's not like you can hide this one like the others. Why the hell is it that big anyway?"
"Yeah, I was wondering about that too," a third party breaks in, another male; messy dark hair with a single strand of hair sticking out from the side of his head and almond shaped eyes. "I have no idea what it's supposed to mean."
"Guys, guys," Alfred begins. "It's all good. Yeah, I know Beilschmidt's gonna give me shit, but it's important. Secret message between me and the.. significant other, y'dig?"
The blonde only sighs while the other gives a whole hearted sign of approval, cat call and all.
"At least Yong Soo's on my side," says Alfred. "C'mon, Mattie, why no love?"
"It's not that I don't like you and Natalya becoming closer," Matthew says. "That's not the issue. I just wish you'd be more mature about it."
"We obviously still don't know each other very well."
"All things considering, I don't doubt that."
"But I'm just kinda surprised she went along with it," Yong Soo confesses. "I get it coming from Alfred, but..."
"I know, I get that," Matthew agrees. "I still can't believe she went along with it."
Alfred suddenly reaches for his bag stashed in the opened locker next to him and begins to dig through it in search of his phone. "Believe it bro, got photo evidence and everything. It's like one of those craptastic BFF necklaces middle school girls buy for each other, only better."
Once he locates it, he opens the application leading to his photos and after selecting the correct one, turns it towards the other two. Depicted is a close up of a defined collarbone, pale skinned and the words "any time you want" written in black marker and neat lettering. Alfred makes certain that they get a very good look at it before taking it away and shutting it off.
"I got that this morning after sending a pic of what I was bringing to the table," he says in a smug tone. He points to the words "run away with me" scrawled in large block letters running down his right arm, showing under the flimsy shirt of his gym uniform. "Which means this piece of artwork is totally and one hundred percent appreciated."
"Unbelievable," says Matthew, and he really does look as though he cannot believe such thing possible.
"Rubbing off on her there?" Yong Soo asks.
"Wow," Alfred laughs and closes up his locker. "I could totally turn that into something dirty."
"If it involves my sister, I should hope you will keep from doing so."
A new voice joins their conversation, and as such the three turn in the direction of the newest addition. Alfred is the only one of them that actually beams at the arrival of another teen, taller than the lot of them, fairer complexion, and ash-colored hair.
"Ivan, my man!" he greets with perhaps a bit too much enthusiasm. "Stoked for the game?"
"Game?"
"We're playing dodgeball today," Matthew explains. "I don't know why he's so excited for it, but there you go."
"So that's what we're doing today." Ivan nods his thanks to Matthew before giving his full attention back to Alfred. "So then, are we feeling reckless or just blood-thirsty today?"
"Aren't I always both?" Alfred questions back with a toothy grin.
"Usually it's only reckless. Or just selfish, one or the other."
"Right. You're one to talk."
Before either Matthew or Yong Soo can question the near-subtle cryptic underlining behind their conversation, it's at that moment a deep booming voice riddled with authority rings out and echoes throughout the locker room. It's their gym teacher, Coach Beilschmidt, his slicked blonde head appears in the room before he does while he bellows out an order to hurry with their changing and reporting out to the basketball courts. It causes the majority of them to follow the order, especially those who have just walked in moments before, though Alfred and company, while a moving in tandem with the others, remain calm.
"See you out there then, big guy?" Alfred asks Ivan as both Matthew and Yong Soo walk a little ahead of him for the exit.
"Where else would I go during my gym period?"
"Yeah, whatever, smartass."
A smile begins to set on Ivan's face and Alfred doesn't miss the way his eyes dart to the word on his neck before he gives his back to the other male as a sign of departure. Ivan's smile remains, and he continues to watch Alfred until he passes through the doors leading out before making his way to his own locker near the back where Feliks and Toris are in the middle of stripping themselves from their school uniforms.
He greets Toris when given a hello, and ignores the unspoken sneer from Feliks, and quickly begins to shed his own clothing. The entire process seems to be deigned to continue in silence, at least until after removing his vest and the deft unbuttoning of his shirt, something out of place catches Toris' eye.
"Are you doing that writing on yourself too, Ivan?" he asks. "You weren't before."
Ivan does not reply immediately. Instead, his head dips slightly, allowing his eyes to travel the expanse of pale skin of his exposed collarbone where a small phrase of words are written in black marker and neat lettering. His smile returns, and it's what he shows Toris as he answers.
"Guilty as charged," he says. "I'm afraid so."
xx
The first time they meet, Alfred is sitting idly by as his father and mother finalize the transaction.
Transaction, because that is how he feels, as though he's nothing more than an object worth trading for the benefit of someone other than himself. Honestly, he doesn't know how this came to be the solution. Yes, he'll admit to being rather rambunctious, but he's young! And taking into consideration all the things he may have done, others have done far far worse. But no, this last stint with the police is the last straw. The proverbial one that's broken the camel's back he supposes.
Still, it's not as if he was the one snorting cocaine in the men's bathroom of a seedy night club at three in the morning like whoever it had been was, he was just being fucked over the toilet in the next stall, he's been clean for months. Sort of. In a way.
Well, they always say that the friends you have will either make you or break you, and his parents never did like how many times Tim (Is that his name? The Dutch kid, right? He's not sure, even after all this time, he should probably figure that out…) broken into him.
Alfred slouches down in his seat just a bit, with a slight sigh through his nose, much to the disapproval of his mother's ever watchful eye if there's anything to be said about that frown. Then again, she's been frowning a lot towards him as of late, so he isn't so sure if it's his current action or just the summation of everything that's led them to this point. In any case, it's at this moment that Alfred has finally had enough. It's far too stuffy in this overly furnished office, and far too dark with its burgundy carpet and cherry wood panels, he needs to leave.
"Excuse me," he says just loud enough and fakes his most charming smile towards their hosts. "I just need to step out for a quick breath of fresh air."
He leaves before his parents are able to articulate a proper argument against his request, immediately feeling the weight on his shoulders alleviate. A hand goes to his neck and tugs at tie around the collar of a starchy pressed shirt he's been forced into for this occasion. With the bit of extra freedom from his formal dress, he takes the opportunity to scan his surroundings.
It's not as if he is unaccustomed to lavish surroundings, but there is something about the Braginsky estate that makes it seems oh-so traditionally decadent and has him feel small. He chalks it up to the old-money vibe that practically radiates throughout the entire homestead, the generations upon generations of wealth seeping into the very air he inhales while making his way through finely furnished halls in search of something a little more entertaining.
Somewhere between climbing one of the many staircases to the second level nearing the landing does he hear someone humming, and with his interest piqued, Alfred makes it his business to find from where it's coming.
His answer is not far away. Just off to the side of a rather spacious corridor is another male, around his age Alfred surmises, most likely the son he's heard so little about from practically everyone who claims to have some form of irresistible insight for the family he's meant to marry into. He's just as fair-skinned as the rest of his family, just as loftily in the very manner of his presentation despite a lack of audience while working alone with a flower box in front of an opened window and hums an unknown tune to himself. Alfred does nothing to disturb the scene, almost completely enraptured at the way long fingers tend to the seedlings sprouting through mounds of damp soil with such care. Though just because he is not being purposefully bothersome, his presence does not go by unnoticed.
"Are you in need of assistance?" he asks suddenly, still working methodically and startling Alfred.
He shakes it off though, and with his hands clasping one another behind his back he beings a leisurely pace towards the other. His smile comes back on, and he goes to the trouble of honeying his voice as he says, "Doesn't your family have people to do things like that for you?"
"I prefer to take care of the sunflowers myself," he replies.
"Aren't those gonna be too big for a flower box though?"
"They'll be replanted at some point in the gardens."
"Oh, yeah, of course..." He comes to a nearby stop, appearing as confident and as collected as ever while taking in the details of the male in front: the highlights of his pale hair, the odd shade of violet hidden behind half-lidded eyes, how his nose adds character to the attraction of his face, and even goes so far as to appreciate how a mere few inches makes all the difference in being able to tower over Alfred.
"I'm Alfred, by the way," he says after some time and extends a hand in formal greeting. "Alfred Jones."
He doesn't take the offered hand, in fact, he doesn't even spare Alfred the least of a polite glance. His gaze remains focused on his work and nothing else.
"I know who you are," he says at length. "And of the agreement between our parents for you to be wed to my sister when she comes of age. And of the rumors that surround your name."
Alfred cocks his head, pretending to be astounded that there being anything said in regards to a smear campaign against his name. "Rumors?"
"Yes," the other replies and even turns away from his work, picks up a nearby piece of cloth and uses it to wipe his hands clean. "Rumors."
"Rumors like what?" Alfred asks, genuinely interested.
"Selfish. Manipulative. Aggressive. Violent. A used up whore that will bend over for anyone to fuck. A cokehead that will go down on his knees without a second thought to get another hit. Things such as those."
The look Alfred receives from him after he finishes listing all that he's heard appears to be challenging, as though he dares Alfred to deny any of which he's just said. Instead, Alfred slowly twists his lips into a half-smirk, the left corners of his mouth moving up in a way that gives off a dangerous glint to his eyes.
"Yeah, that'd be me," Alfred agrees a bit too enthusiastically. If this one isn't keen on playing nice with him, well then, he'll just have to dish as well as he's getting. "So! How does it feel to know this cokehead's gonna be banging your sister in a few years?"
It isn't the first time Alfred's been thrown from a window, but it is the most memorable one.
xx
They don't use phrases such as "I love you", "I need you", or even "I want you". It goes without saying, and in the few moments they spend behind school walls, locked away in unattended closets or storage rooms, they do very little talking anyway as they take from one another.
It's in the darkened confines of a room taken over by their school's band, that surrounded by their instruments and nothing more, Alfred is pressed against the back wall. The front of his school shirt has only been unbutton half-way, the rest of it being shoved to collect halfway up his torso while the long sleeves and back are given leeway to gather the sweat that is beginning to dampen where it gathers. His trousers barely hang on from his ankle, even threaten to fall completely as Ivan pushes his legs further up from the back of his knees, all for the sake of being able to push even deeper inside the blonde.
Alfred allows his head to tilt slightly back and lets out a long breathy sigh. His hands move from their hold on Ivan's upper arms to the nape of his neck, threading through the fine hair right above and gripping at it as Ivan himself leans his head downward to nuzzle into the side of Alfred's own neck.
He gasps at the sensation of not only Ivan thrusting into him - though the thickness of his shaft stretching and filling him while gliding over that sweet spot just there every now and again that has his breath catch is enough to curl his toes and make him push back against his movements - but also at the feel of Ivan's lips parting against his skin, a warm puff of breath ghosting across his skin and gives off a shiver of anticipation, his tongue flattening against the base of his neck, making a slow trek down to his protruding collarbone before his entire mouth latches on and begins to suck.
Alfred keens out a loud whine that ends with a series of sharp pants and bucking hips. His thighs tighten around Ivan's waist, the sweat slicking them sticking to his hanging shirt tails, and coaxes a lustful groan from his man by clenching his muscles around the cock sliding into him.
Ivan stills, no longer thrusting but keeping himself buried in Alfred and bucks his hips shallowly. Alfred knows that he's about to climax, he can feel the swell in Ivan's erection even through the latex barrier of the condom, and snakes one hand down in between their mashed bodies and takes his own arousal in hand.
He hates the feel of the condom on himself, and even inside him in all honesty, he wishes Ivan wouldn't insist on such for the sake of neatness. He wants to feel the sweat clinging to his palm to be touching the sensitive skin of his cock, the trickle of precum slipping through his fingers, and the splatter of Ivan's cum coating his insides instead off the slight push outwards of the latex as it fills and stretches him further.
Ivan's orgasm peaks with him digging his blunt nails into the back of Alfred's knees, almost breaking the skin and muffling a grunt against the naked expanse of the blonde's exposed collar bone. Alfred whines, fists himself at a quicker pace and crosses his feet behind Ivan's back, desperate to finish himself off while in this position. Ivan allows it, even pushes them both further against the wall and brings his hands up to catch Alfred's face.
Their eyes lock, both still heavy lidded and dark, and Alfred's the first to move. He tilts his head at just the right angle and moves forward to catch Ivan's lips. Alfred grants him immediate access, all too happy to enthusiastically turn their kiss from something of simple passion to a sloppy mess of unadulterated lust. He loses himself in the heat of the moment, pumps and fondles himself while whimpering out little moans that are muffled and nearly inaudible as he pushes himself closer to the edge.
It's not long after, when Ivan takes a hand of his away from cupping Alfred's face, all while keeping them connected with their kiss, slipping it down between them to pass Alfred hand and reaches behind to slip three of his fingers beneath the condom and massages the underside of his cock as best as he can that Alfred finally swells up within the confines surrounding him and releases with pulling his head back and inhaling sharply, toes bending inward and thighs trembling right until the very end.
He falls against Ivan in a tired slump, frame dependent on him to be held up and forehead resting against his shoulder, only wincing with a slight twitch when, even with such care and delicacy that is taken as precaution, the other removes his fingers from pressing against Alfred's softening flesh and slips out of him.
"I'm gonna let you down now," Ivan mutters in his ear, voice thick and throaty.
Alfred does nothing in response, not even so much as a nod in understanding as Ivan reaches behind him and uncrosses the legs holding him in place. He slowly drops to his knees with them in hand, moving Alfred along with him until he's finally placed him on the floor and arranges his legs so that he is more comfortable in the time it will take him to recover from their activities. He even goes as far as to remove the condom Alfred still wears, being careful of hypersensitivity and leaves him to rest himself against the wall while he tosses both away in a nearby bin and camouflages them with garbage already disposed of before going about to collect their clothing.
Alfred breathes heavily, heavy lidded and suppresses a yawn while basking in the wondrous feeling he receives from being so thoroughly used and being granted an orgasm of his own. He wants to lie back and take a nap, but seeing Ivan glace at the clock mounted above the classroom door and moving to redress himself keeps him alert enough to realize that there is simply no way that would be possible.
"The bell is going to ring soon," he says. "You should be getting dressed."
Alfred nods, but only continues in watching the meticulous way the other goes about redressing himself. If only they had the day to themselves, he'd rather lay around in a bed with Ivan and enjoy the feel of the post-coital afterglow surging through his body to the full extent. Instead of returning to classes and then back home, it's a preferable alternative, to him at least.
"Am I gonna see you later?" Alfred asks after he finds his voice gain, though grainy and a bit hushed.
"Of course," Ivan replies. He tucks the tails of his shirt back into his pants and fixes his belt. "You're taking Natalya out later. I did tell you not to forget."
Alfred's head hits up against the wall as he throws it back and wails a bit in anguish. "When is she gonna tell me to get lost already?"
Ivan smiles at his antics and approaches the blonde once more. He drops to his knees, places himself directly over Alfred's lap, not exactly sitting in it, only hovering over him, and with his hands pressed against the wall on either side of his head.
"She will most likely not say anything until the end of her schooling."
Alfred lifts his arms to wrap around Ivan's neck. He gives him a small pout and whines. "But whyyy?"
"Appearances," Ivan explains with a small shrug and leans his head down to catch Alfred's lips in another kiss.
xx
Natalya is a very lovely girl, honestly, Alfred has no complaints the first time he sees her. While he may prefer those of the male variety, he can find an attractive edge to her looks that keeps him interested. It's most likely the constant frown she wears around him. She'd be awfully boring if she'd been happy enough to fake him smiles and play the game just as he does while secretly hating every moment. No, his interest in her, even at the bare minimum, isn't the problem.
The problem is that she doesn't care for Alfred very much (at all), and the entire standing of their contract abides by whether or not she actually wishes to marry him. It's a new standing clause to their time-held tradition, all in the hopes of relieving their girls from unwanted marriages as they've borne witness too many times in the past. It has Alfred rolls his eyes internally, but he smiles and remarks on how such an addition is fantastic.
He takes her out weekly, all with the accompaniment of her older brother because she would not agree to it otherwise, and each and every time plays out in the same manner. Restaurants. Movies. Theaters. Amusement parks. Playgrounds. Shops. Exhibits. They all go through the pattern of Alfred being his extroverted self, Natalya's unresponsive reproach, Ivan's bemusement, and a demand to go home so they may end early.
It's at the ends of summer and the approaching school term, the beginning of Alfred's (and Ivan's) last school year when he genuinely begins to feel some concern about the lack of progress he's making with the girl. If it weren't for the hanging threat of losing his inheritance, he's sure that he wouldn't even bother with going through the motions of appearing to "settle down" and leave the wild lifestyle's he's led for so long.
Yet as it stands, and he is most certainly adamant on not losing the money owed to him, Alfred is resigned to secure his future. Though in doing so, he must admit to needing some help.
"Hey," he calls out to Ivan after returning them on another failed courting attempt. "Why doesn't your sister like me?"
Ivan does not answer immediately, in lieu of responding he simply blinks rapidly, as though he is unable to comprehend what would have the blonde question something obvious.
"Do you really need to ask?"
"If I didn't, I wouldn't."
It appears that his reply leaves Ivan at a cross, if the expression he wears is of any indication. It's a bit of hope for Alfred, who at this very moment would very much like a blunt how-to-guide in winning Natalya's favor despite the negative impression her brother has of him. He puts on his most charming smile, which in turn only seems to make Ivan's frown grow longer. Perhaps it's not the best move to have made.
He turns his back on Alfred and goes about his way, not once looking back at the blonde as he nears his home. Alfred on the other hand only watches him take a few steps before turning away as well, slips his hands into his pocket, one of them fiddling with his cellphone before bringing it out for use.
He has some information he needs some digging up on, and he knows where to find the people with the answers. That and he may as well have some fun while he's out.
xx
These days it's easier. They don't go out weekly, but they do stay out longer, and he even gets a smile out of her at times. Alfred's sure it's because of Ivan. He doubts he'll ever receive a full story behind the reasons why she holds her brother in such high esteem, but if it gives him more opportunity to be with Ivan, he's not complaining.
On this particular date, he takes her to the skating rink, typically one for the rollerblading hobbyist but because of the rising temperature as the summer season approaches once more, has been transformed into a rink for ice skating. Natalya gives a staunch approval at his choice, and though her face remains as impassive as ever, her facial features have softened enough to the point that Alfred himself notices and doesn't hold back the self-congratulatory remarks that run circles in his mind for the good choice. Every extra minute accumulated is something precious as far as Alfred is concerned.
The three make their rounds around the rink, though Natalya often skates ahead on her own enjoyment, leaving them to their own devices and both would be liars if either denied to entertain the thought of make believing that this day out is just for them and only them as she does such. Though when they do catch up with her on the opposite side of the rink, the lights begin to low and the static of the speakers crackle overhead and a voice informs them all that there will be a predetermined time slot for only couple skaters.
"I was beginning to enjoy myself as well," Natalya grouses, her usual scowl begins to settle once more after the voice fades away.
"I guess we don't have to technically get off the ice," Alfred says. "Because, y'know, and all."
His eyes dart in Ivan's direction after saying as much, catching and sharing a look as Natalya mulls the idea over in her head. When she comes to a decision, agreeing with Alfred so that she may continue, he sends Ivan a small little sad shrug.
"Sorry, big guy," he says. "Looks like you're gonna have to sit this one out."
"No matter," Ivan replies and begins to skate off to the side so he may exit the rink. "I will rejoin you both when the lights return."
They watch in silence as he slides away, and when Ivan is finally on the sidelines, Alfred turns to Natalya with a bit of a worried knot sitting at the bottom of his stomach.
"Wow, Nat," he says. "Actually sending your big brother away. You're not starting to like me or something are you?"
Natalya frowns in his direction before taking off without him. It's a good sign as far as Alfred can tell, her intentions are selfish rather amorous, and by all means he can care less. He pivots in Ivan's direction, catches his attention with a raised hand waving high in the air and gives him a thumbs up with a smile. He sees Ivan shake his head at his antics, but there is a small smile there and Alfred skates away with a warm feeling in knowing he is the one to put it there. As he catches up to Natalya, he takes a quick measure of the distance between them and then a quick glance back at Ivan who is now paying more attention to his cell phone than them.
Alfred sighs wistfully. He glides alongside the girl who pays him no mind and begins to construct a day when it will be him and Ivan on the ice, just the two of them and looks forward to it greatly. He has no doubts that it will come, that it will happen.
Definitely.
Hopefully.
xx
The blossoming of their actual relationship is unconventional at best. It can be said that it begins with Alfred waiting for the start of term to begin his strategy. He lies low a week or so, the typical time frame where students switch or drop classes before finally settling their schedules for the semester. He needs a place adequate enough to corner Ivan into submitting to his persuasive ways.
They both share a total of two classes together in the end. One is their Gym period, the other is English. It's during the latter where Alfred decides that now would be the most ideal of moments to try to cut a deal with the other all in the hopes of getting into Natalya's good books.
He slips into an empty desk behind Ivan, pointedly ignoring the other's less than enthused reaction and waits for the ever tedious chore of attendance taking to be completed before leaning forward to poke at his back and call for his attention.
"Hey, Ivan," he whispers from behind. "Ivan. Ivan. Ivan. Ivaaaan. Ivaaaaaaaan."
Alfred swears that he hears the pen in his grip snap right before he shifts in his seat to twist back and face him.
"What?" Ivan hisses at him. "What do you want?"
"To say hello, of course," Alfred smiles. "But seriously, I think we should be friends."
He isn't so certain which is more hilarious, the dumbfounded look on Ivan's face or that the pen in his grip had in fact snapped in half and both pieces fall onto his desk at the end of his announcement. Either way, he laughs quietly.
"Why on earth would you think such a thing?" Ivan asks once he's composed himself from the initial shock.
"Because," Alfred begins again. "We should be. I know getting off on the wrong foot was partially my fault, mostly yours, but partially mine and we should start over."
He gives him a bit of a wary look, one that's long enough for Alfred to even contemplate on the oddity of their teacher from having yet broken into their conversation before Ivan replies.
"Are you high?"
"No," he almost laughs. "Not right now, and how rude, just assuming that."
"For all I know, you could have snorted up a mound of coke before coming in here."
"Rude again, I'll have you know that I'm clean."
"Uh huh. Then why are you saying all this?"
"Dude, I'm serious, I think we should hang or something to get all this out of the way so everything's smooth sailing. That's never gonna happen if I keep thinking how much of a dick you are and if you keep thinking I'm a coke-whore."
"You just admitted to not being high at the moment. That gives the implication that you will be doing so later."
"I didn't say I didn't use, I just said I wasn't a coke-whore."
"What's the difference?"
"A great difference, and I'm sure you offended many people with that question. Look, I'm not trying to pick a fight with you right now, I seriously just want us to get pass that bad intro. Hell, we could even hang and maybe even actually talk to each other. Yeah, I think that's a pretty good reach-for-the-stars goal there."
He tilts his head to the side just slightly, like a child pining for a wanted answer. "Extending an olive branch here, dude. Why not?"
Ivan does not respond for some time, his eyes narrowed as though searching for some underlying agenda before finally answering with a question of his own. "What if I say no?"
"Then I'll use this," Alfred replies within a heartbeat and drags out from a pocket in his blazer a small vial half filled with a white powdery substance. "Right here, right now, on this desk."
Ivan's eyes go comically wide. "You brought coke into a classroom?"
Alfred huffs. "Fuckin-A, how many times do I have to tell you I'm clean..ish…?"
He doesn't perform the action, but Alfred can feel how he rolls his eyes. "Ish."
The bit of slang is punctuated with a sharp look at the tube in his hand, making Alfred blink once and break out into another quiet chuckle.
"Dude, okay, no. This isn't coke. I'm clean as far as that's concerned." He leans forward a bit more, dangles the tube in front of Ivan's eyes and smiles. "This is speed."
"How is that any better?" Ivan deadpans.
Alfred shrugs and slinks back in his seat. "Well, it lasts longer and the high is kinda more loopy. I don't know the technicals and I don't really care. What I do care about though is making an agreement for some kind of arrangement and I have absolutely no problem with being sneaky and underhanded to do that. Say no and all of this goes on the desk and I snort so loud that there is just no way that it can be overlooked like I'm sure this entire conversation is.
"And when questioned about it, well, it would be very unfortunate if I were to mention your name somewhere in there, and don't think they won't bite. Doesn't matter if your name's clean enough to eat off of, mine isn't, and they won't even look into it, know why? Because most of the adults running this place hate us and won't mind at all causing an uproar if it lands us in hot water. And with your name, as old as it is, and what it's worth, they'll be on that quicker than I am on this."
He shakes the vial in his hand, causes some of the powder to stick to the sides while the rest falls back into place. "And all that can be avoided if you'll just meet me after school by the gates."
Alfred ends his hushed tirade with a smile, looking very pleased with himself as Ivan only regards him with something akin to a mixture of surprise and horror.
"That's almost villainous of you," Ivan eventually says.
Alfred only shrugs. "Do what you have to do and all that jazz. So! Gonna meet me?"
There's a grimace that tugs at his lips, but all the same Ivan nods sternly and returns to face forward, finally allowed to catch up with what is being taught in the class. Alfred keeps his smile, and carries it through the rest of class and even the remainder of the day. He's quite pleased that his little stunt has actually worked, and is quite determined in completely investing himself in this little bright idea of his. If his own grapevine is correct in their talk, and it's a total fifty-fifty chance on good days, then winning over Ivan is key in securing Natalya. At least, more than one source states as much.
Everything is falling into place, as far as Alfred takes note, and as he stands to the side of the school gates, allowing the masses of students he has no interest in to pass by, his spirits raise even higher at the sight of Ivan striding towards him.
"Hey!" he calls out, and when close enough for a conversation, he asks, "So, how'd the rest of your day go?"
"Are you high?" Ivan demands, and though his tone is serious, Alfred can't help the guffaw that bubbles up in his throat.
"I get the feeling this is gonna be a constant question," he replies. "All the same, I'm not, but if you're interested I do know a good place."
The expression on Ivan's face clearly says that no, he is not at all interested, and Alfred raises his hands as though in defeat. "Just trying to keep the mood up."
"Do you still have that little bottle of speed?" he asks.
Alfred reaches into the inside of his blazer, fishes his hand into the pocket inside and pulls out the small vial as proof of still having it on his person. Ivan snatches it away from him quickly, brings it up to his eye level to inspect it closely, causing Alfred to shuffle his feet nervously enough. There's less in the bottle than there had been earlier, the small grains of powder sticking to the sides tells just how much it contained originally should anyone bother to look and notice, and by the way Ivan lowers it and the disapproving expression directed his way, Alfred can safely say that he notices.
"I kinda went ahead and started to celebrate this new friendship early at lunch," he says with a shrug. "It's just a little though, not a lot."
Ivan makes no reply. Instead, he turns to face a block of buildings across the street from them, brings his entire arm back, clutches the vial in his hand tightly before snapping his arms forward and throwing it into a very high arch and out of their sight completely.
"You know, you're really lucky I have money to replace that," Alfred tells him. "Or I'd've been really pissed."
Again, Ivan ignores his comments and faces his again with his arms crossed. "If you're going to con me into hanging around you more than I care for, I'm setting up some of own rules."
"Sounds fun. Lay them on me."
"The first is, as long as we're together, you stay sober."
"Fine, I can do that for a few hours."
"And the second is, I decide how long each of these outings your force me into last."
"Hold on a sec, dude. If I let you do that, how do I know I'm not gonna get screwed out with just a five second hello-goodbye deal?"
"I'll be reasonable," Ivan says. "So long as you do your part to stay sober."
Alfred takes a moment to think it over. It sounds fair enough, and he knows he's more than capable of being sober for a few hours a time before the incessant twitching begins. It should be easy enough, and he is well versed in how the other boy keeps his word. He has a very high standard reputation for things like that.
"Alright," he says. "We can do that."
"Good," Ivan smiles. "And with that, I say goodbye."
He passes Alfred, who remains frozen in place from the sheer surprise of being dismissed so easily after their mutual agreement. However, once collecting himself he turns on his heel and calls out to the other teen.
"You just said you were going to be reasonable! That wasn't reasonable!"
"And you said you were going to be sober!" Ivan calls back. "You're not sober! Goodbye!"
There's a small smile playing on Ivan's lips that Alfred spies before he turns around to keep walking away and he is more than sure that it's the same one he's spotted the other using when conversing with influential people. The same that appears kind and genuine, but holds that edge of sarcastic delight or abounding falsehood should anyone actually pay attention. It's the sarcastic half, from what he can tell, and as Alfred recovers from this whole other shock, small burst of quiet chuckles emerge from the back of his throat.
"You crafty sonuvabitch," he mutters and runs a hand through his hair. "Fine, that's fine… Tomorrow, Alfie boy, tomorrow we'll get 'im."
When tomorrow does arrive and the school day ends, Alfred waits in the same place, at the same time, and waiting for the same person, entirely sober and ready to play.
It begins splendidly enough, with Ivan patting him down in search of narcotics until Alfred casually comments that such lengths are not needed if the goal is to get inside of his pants. It has Ivan step away quickly, hands in the air as though such a thing is the absolute last thing that he wants and has Alfred laughing loudly and happily. It may very well be the reason why their time together is no more than twenty minutes of walking, but it's a start Alfred feels, and allows it to happen.
Eventually, as the days pass and they both continue to abide by their promises, their little after school excursions grow longer and at one point do they begin to actually visit places together, beginning with a stop at a bookshop Ivan has been wanting to browse for some time. It's around this time that they actually begin talking, legitimately talking, not the one-sided conversations that consist of Alfred prattling on aimlessly that have been taking place beforehand. Ivan now replies in earnest and even begins topics of his own.
Despite this, Alfred is not completely sure whether or not he's winning any high favor with the other boy, but he does take it as a positive sign as becoming a more tolerable presence and makes it a point to keep building this relationship with Ivan even when his sister is with them. Even though in those instances it's a bit awkward, especially when still needing to cater to the girl in order to appease her. He finds that it's a great deal easier when it's just the two of them and at one point, his "dates" with Natalya have been cut down dramatically and his "hanging out" time with Ivan increases.
Which in all honesty, he begins to prefer, and he does not deny the obvious reason behind this because there is simply no point. The day he finally pulls a smile out from Ivan is one he likes to remember. Even though he isn't able to recall what it is he says for the miracle to occur, the upturn of the other's lip, right at the very corner where it trembles in a losing fight to keep it from happening before finally being freed into a lopsided grin with that barest hint of a chuckle is something he can't quite forget.
Not that he wants to; the warmth that spreads through his body and the tickling sensation that hits his stomach when he replays the sequence in his own mind becomes addictive in it's own right, and as such, Alfred has made it to be some sort of objective to wring out a genuine smile from Ivan as often as he can just as a refresher. In doing so, he opens himself more to his true persona rather upholding the reputation that's been tacked on to him throughout the course of his social life, and as continues revealing bits and pieces of truth, Ivan reciprocates in with lengthier conversation and small tidbits of his own life. Little instances that Alfred carries and locks away somewhere safe and special, assuming that he is one of few people to hear such things.
It begins the inklings of a real friendship, Alfred's first in very many years and combined with the not-so-platonic feelings he's been feeling towards the other, it lowers his inhibitions. He feels free to admit anything and everything he can think. The trust comes from knowing that Ivan doesn't play the same kind of games as some of their other peers, he's far too high on the social scale to resort to anything as tasteless as blackmail and honestly has nothing to gain from whatever Alfred may say.
So, he talks his heart away. Telling Ivan everything from his dreams of being some noble hero from childhood days to every pet he's ever own to his true opinions of every teacher he's had in the classroom. He even finds himself telling him things he never imagined telling anyone.
"I gave my first blowjob when I was thirteen," he says over fries and cheap drinks purchased at a stand on the boardwalk.
The sea breeze bites at them through their school uniforms as they sit on the ledge of a wall bordering the shops lining the beach front and the expanse of sand and ocean. Alfred pulls the sleeves of his sweatshirt out further to cover the entirety of his hands when picking up his can of cola, not wanting them to grow colder than they are already.
"Some sophomore, I don't remember his name," he continues on before taking a drink. "Hmm, but yeah, he was the first guy I slept with too, actually. He offered me weed after that though, but I didn't take it. I mean, I had already smoked some before, and to me that high is not worth that smell. So, I asked him if he had something else and he did, he had some speed on him so I tried that out. And yeah, I liked that a lot better."
He ends with a laugh that Ivan does not join. In fact, his expression is so serious, Alfred isn't sure whether or not he's seen such a look on him before. It causes him to end his laugh prematurely and quite awkwardly, leaving him to save face by stuffing two or three fries at a time into his mouth suddenly. They sit in silence for a good while, and even after he's swallowed his food, he leaves Ivan to continue the conversation if he so wishes, which he does.
"When did you start doing cocaine?" Ivan asks, and Alfred blows his bangs away from his eyes as he thinks back to when that was exactly.
"That came in later, a year, maybe longer. I was coming down from a high and was scrambling for anything. That's when I met Tim, he sometimes has a stash of just about everything. Doesn't take it, but he likes to provide, I guess. Didn't take me long to figure I should be friends with him. Well, we kinda ended up as more than friends, but y'know, I'm not that big of a whore people think I am. I've only slept with him, my first, some hook up with a girl from this club, and Arthur."
"Arthur?" He poses the questions as though it's something he cannot truly believe, and by the size of his eyes and the clear surprise written on his face, Alfred is inclined to think just that. "You mean that uppity little punk with a guitar tattooed on his ass?"
"Thigh, actually, but points to the grape vine for trying."
It's not so much of the thought of Arthur's rather notorious tattoo being placed elsewhere from it's actual position that causes him to be so amused than it is the undeniably abhorred look splashed across Ivan's face as he comes to terms with this newly revealed truth.
"He's just such an irate little grouch though," he comes to say. "I don't understand what would be attractive. Just, why?"
"It's just sex," Alfred shrugs. "Sex is sex. It's just done for shits and giggles and it feels good, and I like doing things that feel good."
"So, then coke doesn't feel good."
"What?"
"You kept saying that you don't do coke anymore, but you just said right now, that you like to do things that feel good.
"Right, but that's not why or anything."
"So then why did you?"
Again, Alfred shrugs. "A few reasons. My bad trips to good trips ratio was starting to get out of whack. My body isn't too good at handling it for whatever reason. I overdosed twice and my crashes were harder, and I did a lot of stupid things while on it. Actually, stupid doesn't even cover the things I did… In the long run, even though the high can be really really good, I'm better off without it."
That steady gaze returns, and once again Alfred finds himself on the end of some sort of analysis Ivan is determined to complete. He almost doesn't hear it, as he brings his drink back up for another sit, Ivan's quietly posed question of, "Do you think you'll ever be completely clean?"
Alfred shakes his head without hesitation. "Why would I want to? Yeah, I stopped on one level, but there's no reason to get all drastic with cutting off all together. I'm good with what I do now, and that's fine with me."
"You shouldn't be fine with that either," Ivan says in all seriousness. "Why do you even do it, Alfred?"
His response is more than just hesitant. Alfred freezes completely at the question. The answer is right at the tip of his tongue and yet is held back by the sickening sensation that washes over him and turns his stomach whenever he thinks of the reasons he's lead his life so decadently and dangerously. The sudden barrage of thoughts leave him feeling empty and cold, to the point where he has to visibly shake himself the trance and swallows thickly.
"Why does anyone do anything?" he asks in return. "Why do you go around socializing with people you don't even want to pretend to like?
"It's my duty to do so," Ivan replies quickly and curtly. "I have a responsibility to my family and I take it seriously. I'm expected to do as much."
"Well maybe that's my reason too."
"I find that hard to believe. Alfred, there is just no way you're parents could want this sort of life for you. My father-"
"Is not my father," Alfred sharply interrupts. "And your mother is not like mine. My parents are not yours, Ivan, our families are not the same. You actually have one and I don't, and I'm sorry, I don't know what you want me to tell you."
It goes quiet between them, but it's neither stifling nor heavy as Alfred pushes himself off from the ledge and gathers his trash together noisily.
"I should get going," he says, and prompts Ivan to follow his suite.
"Should be getting home?" Ivan asks, "Or elsewhere?"
"Does it matter?"
"Yes."
The blunt reply as well as the intimidating aura that begins to swirl around the two of them keeps Alfred from saying anything akin to how wherever he may run off to is none of his business. Instead, with a little bit of an eye roll, Alfred says, "Home." and tosses his garbage in a nearby bin.
"I'll walk you," says Ivan and Alfred puts up no fight. He allows Ivan to walk him back, even if there is no more conversation between them and the only spoken words are a drawn out goodbye from each of them in front of Alfred's home, and even after saying as much they remain still until after a few uncomfortable moments pass, Alfred breaks away with a final nod and turns to walk through the gate and step on to the walkway.
When he reaches his room, he moves to window and isn't quite sure what to make of Ivan still standing where he left him. He watches and takes note that it's a full minute and then some before he leaves.
Initially, Alfred feels as though the confrontation may cause an awkward tension between them, but what happens is actually the opposite. Soon after, at random times when in each other's company (which has now extended to during school hours) Alfred often catches Ivan staring at him, only stopping when he finally brings it to obvious attention and even then no explanation is given. Ivan only smiles at him and goes on with whatever he has been doing before, leaving Alfred to feel oddly flustered and more than once has causes his face to flush. In one case, during a lunch break and he mentions actually performing a lab experiment and having some fun with his partners, Matthew and Yong Soo, the look Ivan gives him followed by the same smile he's been receiving heats his face up instantly and to the point where he is able to feel it radiating off from his cheeks.
"What?" he grouses, ducking his head and rubs at his cheeks.
"It's nothing," Ivan replies, and though he may turn away and go on with his activities Alfred is almost always certain that is is more than "nothing".
That in itself may be his reasoning for starting a chain of events that begins with a topic that should have no business of being brought up without preamble in the state of their relationship.
Casually, during one of the breaks he asks, "Are you gonna go to Winter Formal?"
Ivan holds a single finger as he marks the margins of some sort of rough draft of an assignment he was meant to have revised as homework or such. When his pen forms the last word, he asks, "Are you taking Natalya?"
"I don't think so. I mean, when tickets went on sale, she sent me a threat text. Said I better not if I knew what was good for me. Only y'know, with more depth."
Ivan pauses in his editing, blinks a few times as he processes this information before shrugging it off entirely. "Yes, that does sound like her."
"Right?" Alfred smiles. "Yeah, but… I don't know. The closest I've ever gotten to these things are the hotel rooms, thought it'd be fun to see the other side and go stag or something."
Ivan halts working on his homework completely. "What do you mean, the hotel rooms?"
"The entire third floor of every hotel that hosts whatever shindig this school has is always booked for the night. And it doesn't matter what number it is, it's always the second room on the right where they have everything, weed, smack, crack, speed, coke, meth, ex, H, whatever you want, it's there. You can either do it there or go to one of the other rooms, though people usually chill for a bit to get a hookup before leaving. But yeah, I usually just make a beeline for upstairs, I've never really been to anything."
Again, Ivan pauses and does nothing but blink. "I.. I don't know if that's worrisome, sad, or just unsurprising."
"Chalk it up to all three and call it a day, s'what I do. Anyway, I'm askin 'cause my scene'll be up there, and yeah, don't wanna be the loner standing in the corner or the one that started in the corner but ended up drinking too much punch that's been spiked by people who don't know alcohol levels as well as they should and starts doing this weird pony dance that ends in a strip tease."
Ivan stares at him blankly before breaking into a grin and lets out a low chuckle. "Sometimes I don't know what to think about the things you say."
"Don't think, just say you'll be there and not let me look like I'm completely out of place."
"But won't Matthew and Yong Soo be there?"
"Probably, but it's just..." His mind quickly tries to come up with a legitimately sounding excuse and quickly lowers his eyes and begins to speak softly when coming up with plausible. "I don't want to put them off so soon or anything like that. I know how I can get, and I just started talking to them. Besides, I don't know what they'll say since it's, y'know, me, and with.. well, with what everyone says about me..."
Alfred raises his eyes to see just how well his story has been taken, and in doing so he comes to find Ivan looking at him in the way he has been taking to lately, and it's almost the very same expression that caused his immediate reaction of turning red. His head ducks again, his eyes dart away, and he can feel the heat from his cheeks just as before. He's almost ready to berate himself for acting ridiculously, but his feelings quickly change with what Ivan says next.
"Alright," he says. "I'll be there."
Alfred does not hold back his pleasure in hearing this. "Fuck yes! Dude, this going to be so awesome, we're gonna have a fucking ball."
Except, it doesn't work out that way.
xxx
tbc.
xxx
Disclaimer: When the lights go out, will you take me with you?
-I feel like this could be a really great story if I bothered to go into more background detail. Oh, well.
-Anyway, one day (like a thousand years ago), my oh-so-adorable and bee-oo-tiful killjoy waifu gave me a prompt and the mighty need to see it live and I told her yes. This is that prompt and it really has been a very very extremely very long time.
-So gorgeous, know that I love you and your lipgloss smile and I'll shower you in long skirts and pink glosses and secondary aftermaths for waiting so damn long. Because really this is like a late birthday/halloween/christmas/anniversary gift and I just suck at delivering, I am sorry. So please, keep being the bulletproof heart to my hollow point smile because you are the broken glass in the morning light. I mean this, forever. -xoxo-
-Also, I'll tell you about which part of this is based on true fact later.
-But yeah, this is not all of it. It was supposed to be a one-shot and then it got... way out of hand and ended up too long. Now, I could haven't just made you guys read over 20k words, but I chopped it in half for a sort of two-shot deal. The second part will be posted either later today or sometime tomorrow, idk.
-I thought I wasn't going to be busy anymore but apparently I cannot be that lucky.
-Alright then that's all for now, from me. Stay shiny, stay beautiful. I'll be back soon with the end. :mwah: