Basking in the hot June sun, Alfred waved his hat for cool air as he took a break from playing. As it had been for the last month, Ivan had been watching him play for the first half of the day, when he would disappear like he was now and then reappear when Alfred had moved to the street corner at sunset. It was strange, but he just figured that the Russia found a job somewhere because he would always try and offer him money that he would never accept without a small tiff.

Summer was one of the better times of year, since Mardi Gras and the Jazz festival were well over so more people were excited to hear him play. Alfred was getting so much extra he was actually thinking about investing in a new mouthpiece, or even a pair of shoes. That would work too.

Getting to the shop, Ivan went to Antonio to see what he would be doing today. Practically every day there was something for him to do, and if there wasn't he would go to another shop and try to find something to do there.

"Hello Ivan. Sorry but I don't have any money to spare today..." Antonio apologized, a small frown on his face. "There are things I need done though... Would you accept something from the store as payment? It's the most I can do at the moment unfortunately."

Something from the store? Ivan gave a small gasp and nodded. The small figurine of the trumpet was still there! It wouldn't be as good as giving Alfred some money, but he was sure he would like it.

Seeing that he accepted, Antonio smiled. "You may have whatever you want. I'm running out of business as it is. I just need some boxes filled and sorted in the back room."

Doing his assigned task, Ivan finished it and went back to ask for more. Surely that wasn't enough work for the was so precious, so delicately made. It wasn't as beautiful as Alfred's own trumpet, but that was because whenever he saw it, it was resting in the angel's hands.

With the sun starting to set in the humid sky, Alfred packed up as usual to go over to the street corner. It was usually about ten to twenty minutes from him going there that Ivan would show up, so he didn't feel bad as he took his trumpet back out and continued to play a fast and joyful piece.

Walking, Ivan knew he was late. He had wanted to wrap up the figurine carefully, but his big hands messed it up so many times that he ended up being late for when he was usually with his angel. He hoped desperately that he would not be disappointed that he didn't have any money today.

"Where's y'at?" Alfred sang immediately after his song was finished. It was fun trying to teach the Russian all the little wordings of his accent, even if he sometimes didn't understand them completely himself. Especially since they had started to actually spend more time together as friends, the American had heard more and more his one-of-a-kind accent.

"Aright." Ivan said automatically. He was getting used to it, but his normal accent was still horrible. He didn't walk up to him like he usually did, instead keeping his distance and looking to the ground. Maybe this would bring them closer, or maybe it would tear them apart. If worst came to worst, Alfred could sell the figurine for the money Ivan didn't give him.

Tilting his head to the side, Alfred asked with a smile. "Wha' ya doin'? 'T's not like ya to hang around like that. Ya gotta secret, huh?" Normally by now he would have already put a few dollars or maybe even a pair of fives in his case for them to argue about for a bit before giving up.

Taking the carefully wrapped package from his pocket, Ivan looked away as he passed it over. He didn't want Alfred thinking he had been given it for doing a little work, he wanted him to think he had earned it. That wasn't the truth, of course, Antonio was just too generous.

"For me?" Alfred asked with a smile, taking it out of Ivan's hand gently. "Ah man, ya shouldn't have! Y'know my birthday ain't for another month, righ'? 'T's still fine if I open it?"

Nodding, Ivan looked out of the corner of his eye to watch his angel unwrap it. Over the past month, not many people had touched Alfred, so he had not needed to protect him much. However, there had been an incident where someone had tried to take the money from his case. The Russian had found him later. Of course, Alfred didn't know that, because at the time he had said to let him go. But it was all worth it, because his angel was still safe.

Making sure not to drop it, Alfred put his trumpet away before he started to open it. When he could see the small figurine, his entire face light up like a tree while Ivan's seemed to start turning red. "No way! This is... This is amazin' Ivan!" He crowed, holding it in two hands. "It's so beautiful! Where did'ya find it?"

Glad that he seemed to like it, Ivan allowed him to release the breath he was holding. "Store." He mumbled, not wanting to tell him he got it at work. That would just seem like an easy solution and didn't hold much weight.

"Ivan... You don't know... This is... The last time someone gave me somethin' was when my baby brotha gave me my hat. Now, my closest and only friend gives me this work o' art." Not wanting to put the delicately constructed figurine down, Alfred continued to stare at it.

Still standing there, Ivan looked up at the last few tendrils of the sunset. Yes, this was a good offering for his angel, it obviously made him happy. When Alfred smiled was when he looked best, the only exception being when he played the trumpet.

Alfred sat down slowly, making sure that he didn't drop the amazing figurine. Placing it on his closed trumpet case, he continued to stare at it before looking up to Ivan. "Haha, ya look tall from way up there." Which he did. It was almost like the gentle giant but Russian and endearingly quiet.

Looking around, Ivan then stepped closer to the wall and sat down beside him. As long as his angel was the first to sit down, it was alright for him to do so. He looked away though, because he knew that if he saw Alfred this close, face to face, it would not be good.

"D'ya wanna try somethin'? I was thinkin', cause you did somethin' so nice fer me, I figured I could help you. D'ya wanna practice speakin' English? I promise I won't laugh or nuttin'. I'll give ya a sentence t'say and yu'll just copy me." Alfred said quietly still smiling as he looked at the trumpet. He wanted to ask how expensive it was, but he felt like it was too personal. After all, Ivan bought it for him just out of the kindness of his heart.

His angel wanted to help him? But his accent! Alfred would hear it, not just in a few words but full sentences? Wouldn't he hate him after that?

"I could even try ta speak proper English if ya like. 'T's kinda harder, but oh well. I'd be worth it t'hear you speak more than a few words." Turning toward Ivan, he smiled. "Don't'cha wanna actually have conversations with me? Unless yer waitin' fer me t'learn Russian."

Slowly, Ivan nodded. He would have an accent, a horrible accent, but he couldn't deny his angel. He was going to speak with him, even if it was just a repeat after me conversation, but he would still be able to listen to Alfred.

Thinking for a second, Alfred nodded. "Kay, I gots it. 'For life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.'" The American said with barely a trace of his natural accent. "How 'bout tha'?"

Taking a breath, Ivan opened his mouth. "For life, li-liberty and the purs-s-pursui-t of happiness." He was particularly embarrassed about his mess up of the word pursuit, but he had already said it and there was no way to fix it now.

"Now doesn't tha' feel great?" Alfred said, immensely proud of the Russian for actually talking. "Now I know ya can think in English somewhat, so ya can say what ya wanna now. Let me hear yer voice."

Biting his lip, Ivan looked down to the pavement. "For life, liberty and the p-u-r-s-u-i-t of happiness." He repeated, taking the word slowly so he wouldn't mess it up. His angel had said he wanted to hear his voice again, after all.

Smiling widely, Alfred clapped his hands. "Perfect! Yer accent ain't bad at all!" Leaning against the wall, he couldn't help but feel happy. Here he was, sitting in New Orleans with his best friend who had just said his first full sentence to him. Not only that, but the weather was perfect as the sun was slipping behind the horizon. "I can't believe ya hid it from me fer all this time!"

"I-I didn't..." He didn't hide anything from him besides the ugliness. Angels didn't need to see ugliness, and especially didn't need to hear ugliness when their own voices were so beautiful. He leaned against the wall as well, seeing dusk turn to night.

"Then what'cha call all those one word answers, huh?" The blond American goaded, letting himself fall against Ivan. "I really don't mind if ya talk or not, it's just nice t'hear yer voice, y'know? Betta then thinkin' you've gone mute."

This wasn't a pat on the back. This wasn't Alfred grabbing his wrist. No, now his angel was leaning against him! Ivan looked away, heartbeat increasing. He was just so beautiful, so perfect. He shouldn't be dirtying himself by leaning against Ivan.

Staying silent as well, Alfred couldn't handle it for too long before mumbling. "It's been a looong time since I met anyone as nice as ya. Sure most people are friendly, but tha's it. Ya actually spend time with me." Looking up to the sky, he started tracing some of the easier constellations in his mind. "D'ya know any o' the constellations here?" Alfred didn't know many; he preferred to make up his own every time he looked up at the night sky.

No, Alfred was mistaken, If he could read Ivan's thoughts, he would not think he was nice at all, and he wouldn't want to see him, or teach him the constellations. He wouldn't want to do anything with him, because he was dirty and horrible. He kept quiet, glancing up at the sky as well.

"Nah? Well neither do I really." He answered with a short laugh. "I just like t'make them up. I used'ta do that with my pops but yeah, things happened." More specifically a collapsed roof happened but Ivan didn't need to know that.

"See," He started, grabbing the Russian's much larger hand. "That's called the Awesome Blob of Doom cause it looks kinda blob-like, y'know?" Laughing, he let his arm relax into Ivan's; not thinking anything of the situation. "Ya can make one up now."

Pointing up, Ivan tried to show a few stars. "Сердце." He said, the Russian falling easily from his tongue. He couldn't remember the word in English, but Alfred seemed to want him to name one.

Pausing for a second, he looked over to Ivan with an eyebrow raised. "Was that Russian? Yer voice sounds soft when ya speak it. But I don't undastand, sorry." Letting himself slip down the wall, Alfred figured it wouldn't be bad since there wasn't anyone walking around. Without thinking about the implications, he rested his head on Ivan's thigh as he looked up to his face. "Ya ok with this?"

Suddenly, blood started pumping all throughout Ivan's body, to one place in particular. But that adrenaline rush must have been what brought the word to his mind. "Heart!" He blurted out, back stiffening. His angel was using his leg as a pillow!

"Is that what'cha said? Hmm, I see it." Alfred answered, squinting up at the sky. "Thanks fer not being all annoyed by me. Tons o' people like me enough when I be playin' them tunes, but without my trumpet I'm just a bum. I have a house, ya know that. I just need the money." He didn't noticed how Ivan's body tensed with his head on his thigh; still not used to having friends that he hadn't thought about it.

Glancing down, Ivan was disgusted with himself. If Alfred moved his head just a little closer, he would feel it! He would know how dirty he was, how unworthy he was. Of course, his angel had been the one to place himself there, but it still should not prompt such a reaction.

Another moment of comfortable silence passed over them both. For some reason, Alfred actually found himself with nothing to say. Maybe it was the perfect weather, or maybe it was the fact that he wanted to see just how Ivan stayed so quiet. He couldn't ever do it. Alfred was born to talk and play.

A few minutes later, Alfred jumped up. "I gotta go back home! I fergot I hadta clean tonight! Sorry Ivan, d'ya wanna walk home with me or is it too late?" He was going to have to find a way to carry his trumpet and his new figurine without breaking it.

Ivan stayed on the ground, knowing that if he stood up his problem would be obvious. "I will stay." He said with a little hesitation in his words. His angel couldn't know how he thought of him. Unless he felt the same way, which wouldn't happen. They were friends, and Alfred would keep it that way.

"I undastand. See ya 'morrow?" Alfred asked, standing up for a second. When Ivan nodded, he smiled and leaned back down to give him a hug. "Thanks 'gain fer the trumpet figure-thing."

Long after the figure was out of sight, Ivan stayed seated there, not daring to move. But he was in pain, his erection pressing against his zipper roughly. Still not standing, needing that lingering connection with Alfred, the Russian undid his pants and slowly pulled out his large member as he moved his hand over the surface, thinking of that hug. Wait, no, it was not his hand. Ivan closed his eyes, clearly seeing his angel coming back.

He offered to help, because that what angels did. Alfred was not walking home, he was in front - no, beside him. Two hands worked over Ivan's cock, whispered words lost in the dead of night to all but one pair of ears. Two pairs of ears. Words of love, of devotion. Words of caring and endearment. Personal words, words that Francis the cook had not heard. No, this was all for Ivan. Ivan, and his lover. Ivan and his angel.


...And this is where Ivan starts losing it...