Ok, this better work...

Thank you so much for the great reviews, and the subs and favorites as well! They really made my day :)

As you've probably guessed, this is my first fanfic so all the positive feedback really means a lot to me. Plus I'm still playing around with the formatting so I might mess something up.

So here it is, if I did everything right. Chapter 2. hehe.

"…And we'll have to clean up in here if we're gonna invite people over, you know?"

No, Ivan did not know. He didn't have time for this, he had work to do. And this guy talked too much. Much to his own dread, Ivan felt his lips curl up into a small grin, one that, if the dangerous aura emanating from the Russian could be ignored, could be thought of as endearing.

"Leave," he said softly, "Now."

All he got in return was an apologetic smile. "Well, I've got nowhere else to go," Alfred said at once, hefting his two suitcases. Ivan briefly wondered if that was all he'd brought along. Most people rented vans to carry all their useless junk. Alfred stood among the debris on the floor, looking around with a vacant expression while Ivan waited.

He still felt that despicable smile on his own pale face. Yes, a complete stranger barging in on him was very unacceptable, but the worst part was that Ivan, who should have long ago threatened him with that old metal water pipe he kept beside the door for such visitors, did not really want him to leave. Alfred had brought light and noise into the room, something Ivan usually strove to avoid these days, especially in such copious amounts. But the thought of being left alone once more in the dust and darkness was unbearable.

Alfred, completely unaware both of Ivan's outward anger and inward turmoil, brightened up quite suddenly. "I guess you're stuck with me then!" he said, sounding way too happy, "I already made a down payment, non-refundable, so we're gonna be the best roommates ever! Yeah!" he punched the air triumphantly, glasses askew.

Ivan felt uncertain. What was he supposed to do, let Alfred live here, try to deny his existence, and keep on living his life? Somehow, that seemed impossible. Like his sister always used to say: Поживём,увидим."Your room is down that hall," he told the man stiffly, "You will find that everything is in order. And," he added before Alfred could rush out to see his new domain, "It should not be hard for us to keep out of each others' way."

Alfred's face fell slightly, but his blue eyes still shone with excitement. "Come on, Ivan, that's no fun!" he whined.

All Ivan could do was treat him to that smile once again and shake his head, "My dear Alfred," he said sweetly, "Could we perhaps discuss this later? I have work, you see. Maybe you have some things to take care of, da?"

"Ivaaan."

Something was calling his name. Bright light shone through his eyelids. All he could see was white.

"Ivaaan. Ivaaan…"

Mother, have you come to take me to heaven at last? I have waited for so long…

"Don't ignore the hero, Ivan!"

His eyes flew open at once while his hand flew to the half-empty bottle of vodka beside the couch. Ivan's eyes were at once assaulted by the light from the ornate lamp that hung so conveniently over his head. Fighting to catch sight of the source of the voice while covering his eyes from the worst of the light, Ivan could barely make out a dark figure standing over him.

"What do you want?" he groaned. He'd been sleeping well for once, and was still feeling very tired, but Alfred just had to come and disturb him.

Alfred jumped onto the half of the couch that Ivan had vacated during his rude awakening and bounced on the striped cushions. The creaking of the rusty springs beneath was almost deafening, but he seemed to be enjoying himself nonetheless.

"There's no bed in my room," he stated at last, "And a hero has to have a bed!"

A hero, huh? Ivan wondered if a hero would be immune to a water pipe to the head.

"And how is that my business?" he asked, "Is it not rude to wake someone up just to complain like that?"

Alfred pouted, still refusing to vacate the couch. "You weren't sleeping," he said in a disgruntled tone, "I came in to look around and you were just sitting there drinking."

"You were walking around here?" Ivan jumped up to survey the damage. He was not unpleasantly surprised to see that the debris that had once littered the floor lay neatly piled and organized by the door. He felt a brief stab of shame: Alfred just didn't seem to be the type of person who would willingly clean a room like that. He must have really hated all the filth in here to do that. He couldn't dwell on these thoughts for long, however, as the room began to spin around him.

He felt Alfred's steadying grip on his arms and soon found himself sitting on his previous side of the couch. Two blue eyes behind a pair of glasses swam into view, then a strand of blonde hair, and finally a mouth. It was Alfred's face, and it seemed to be speaking.

"Are you alright?" he seemed to be asking. His warm hands still held onto Ivan's arms. All signs of the childish hyperactivity had disappeared from Alfred's face, replaced with worry. Ivan felt heat rising up to his face. How strange, his thoughts seemed to be detached from his body, because he could in no way comprehend this reaction to Alfred's voice. Maybe he was losing it again.

Finally, he found control over his own lips. "I am fine," he choked out shakily, but regretted it almost instantly. Alfred's nose wrinkled at the overpowering smell of alcohol on his breath. Ivan felt the cushions move as Alfred sat down beside him once again. He couldn't help noticing how much closer they were to each other now. The heat from Alfred's body warmed Ivan's side, and for some reason the pace of his heartbeat sped up considerably.

"You drink a lot," he heard Alfred say in the periphery, "It's really bad for you, you know."

Ivan knew. But he also knew that he couldn't stop. If only I could tell you why…

Alfred continued to talk on, almost automatically. "My dad would get really weird when he got drunk. He would forget who he was, or he would start talking to the air as if someone was there. I remember he could get really scary," he shifted slightly to get a better look at Ivan, "But you drank like a gallon of that vodka stuff, and you're just sitting there. But I can see it's hurting you on the inside," he paused and then said carefully, "maybe it's not helping anymore. With whatever it is you're trying to forget, I mean."

Ivan slowly turned to look at Alfred. Now that he wasn't beaming with excessive energy and arrogance, Ivan saw how beautiful Alfred really was. These thoughts brought him back down to Earth, and he snapped his head to face forward once again. What were these thoughts?

"You are right," he said shortly, trying in vain to calm his hammering heart, "But there's little else I can do."

Alfred grabbed Ivan's hand, and even without looking the Russian could tell that he was wearing his winning smile once again. "Not to fear!" he exclaimed so loudly that Ivan mentally apologized to the neighbors, "The Hero is here! And no real hero would leave his friend in danger!"

As Ivan watched Alfred bounce around the room, he decided that he wasn't the only one here who needed help.

this text. is. grey. why. ok nvm it changed O_O

Review please? pleeease?

~next, Alfred and Ivan go to McDonald's. At 3 in the morning. What could possibly go wrong?