Alfred's fingers hurt from clutching his coffee cup too long, his head pounding as the noise of the coffee shop filled his ears. Each voice, each slurp of drink, each click of nails against tabletop sent Alfred's ears ringing and set his teeth on edge. He wanted to look around, search for some sort of exit, but he was too afraid to move under the Russian's intense stare. He'd kept his own gaze on the table as the man ordered their drinks and kept it on the mug as it arrived. He was too afraid to look up. To meet those intimidating eyes, such a strange shade of blue they were practically violet. He wanted to shrink away, fall through his seat and sink into the ground, anything to take him away from the man that wanted him dead. He'd nearly succeed too. But here Alfred was, alive and breathing and seemingly well off, thanks to Arthur's care. This meant that Ivan hadn't gotten his way. Which did not make for a happy psycho.

Ivan raised his elbows onto the table, resting his chin across his intertwined fingers and laughing softly. Such a light and delicate thing didn't fit the thoughts that ran through his mind.

"I would like to know how you came to be here," he chimed. "It is not often that someone finds their way past my men. Another trick up your sleeve?" Another giggle that sent Alfred's ear's ringing.

"Just lucky…I guess," he laughed nervously and dared to look up, caught in Ivan's gaze. Too late now. Breaking away would be a sign of weakness, of uselessness. Ivan didn't tend to keep useless people around very long.

"Oh, but I must know," he insisted, turning his head slightly. "Secret tunnel perhaps? Stunt double? Getaway car?"

Alfred stiffly shook his head. "No I just… ran," he shrugged. Ivan's eyes grew dark above that far-too-innocent smile.

"Oh, so simple," he laughed. "It is quite amazing!" Ivan looked away and dropped his smile, releasing Alfred as he lost himself in thought. Alfred let go of the breath he'd been holding, returning his gaze to his drink. He'd hardly touched it and it'd already gone cold but holding it gave him a strange sort of comfort. Ivan turned back to Alfred, the smile taking its place once again.

"We shall not beat around the bushes with small talk. Because you are here, we will need to find a new way to pay back your debt." Ivan placed his hands on the table, making Alfred cringe as he leaned in. "I could always kill you, nice and simple, all your troubles gone at once" he giggled, his sugary tone sending chills down Alfred's spine. "But I have already given you that option and you so rudely rejected. Now, we find another option, unless you have the money?" When Alfred remained silent, Russian chuckled. "I did not think so." Sitting back in hair chair, Ivan stared off into space again, tapping a finger against the table.

Alfred focused on keeping his breathing under control, desperately trying to clear his thoughts, but with his exhausted and fear-struck body it was hard enough just to keep himself from falling over and screaming. As Ivan's silence stretched on, Alfred grew increasingly worried, hands shaking as sweat broke out across his forehead. Alfred glanced up, finding Ivan staring at him and caught once again in those violet eyes. Ivan looked even more unnerving without his smile, all attempt at graciousness abandoned as he bore into Alfred, even his coffee quaking in terror. Oh, wait, his hands were shaking. Duh.

Ivan's grin returned, sitting straight again. "This place is much too crowded for negotiations. Come to my place of business tonight at seven and we will continue this conversation." Without waiting for a response, Ivan stood, throwing a card on the table. He replaced his coat before turning to Alfred again. "Do not be late. You may try to run if you like, but I would not consider that the wisest decision." With another chuckle he turned, waltzing out the door, startling several customers on his way out.

Alfred looked back to his untouched coffee. Idiot! He should've never stayed. He'd spent too long in one place and now he was paying for it. He should've stuck to alleys and sewers and subway tunnels, but he's chosen to walk around the street like an idiot, in daylight no less. What was he thinking? Why did he even stay in this city?

Oh, right. Arthur. Arthur, who'd been so kind and caring. Arthur, who'd kept his belly full. Arthur, who'd given him a house. A home. Arthur, who'd taken a homeless man off the street and given him all he had to offer. Damn it. What if he got dragged into this? What if Ivan already knows about Arthur? What if the payment is…?

No.

He wouldn't let that happen. Not again… This was his responsibility and he'd be damned if it hurt anyone again. Unconsciously, he touched the locket he always in his pocket, fiddling with the string. There was no more running. This was his stupid mistake, his greed that caused this. He'd gotten himself into this mess and oh god why was he such an idiot! Alfred folded his arms across the table and buried his face in them, sighing as he focused on blocking out the noisy coffee shop. Slowly, the pounding of his head faded to a dull pulse as he let his eyes drift shut.

~.

The sound of the doorbell filled Alfred's ear, making his grit his teeth in agitation. He turned over and hope they would go away so he could go back to sleep. Five bells later he sighed and pushed himself up. He'd had such a nice dream too. Trotting down the stairs, a sixth bell made him growl in frustration.

"I'm comin'! I can hear ya just fine!" he called, reaching for the knob. He opened it to find his brother looking down at a sunflower in his hand. Alfred froze.

"H-hey Mattie!" he laughed, a bit unnerved. "Uh…where'd ya get that flower?"

Matthew kept his head down, answering in his usual quiet tone, a bit of a waver in his voice. "Found it on your doorstep. Thought it was special."

Alfred took it and examined it with distaste, tossing it behind him before turning back to Matthew. "Well, you're not wrong. What's up?" Alfred leaned against the doorframe, regarding his brother with playful eyes, frowning as he remained silent. "Mattie?"

"Alfred…" Matthew pursed his lips, taking a breath to speak but only letting it out in a quivering sigh. Alfred snickered and thumped his brother on the head.

"C'mon Mattie, talk to me. Wanna come inside?" Alfred stepped aside but Matthew remained where he was. Alfred scowled. "What's wrong? Cat got your tongue?"

Matthew shook his head, the little stuffed polar bear he always carried hung at his side, clutched in his quivering fist. Matthew was usually quiet, rarely spoke any louder than a whisper, but this was different. His shoulders were hunched, his fists clenched, biting his trembling bottom lip and shivering all over.

"Mattie?" Alfred placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, Matthew jumping slightly at the contact. "What is it, man? You look like you're gonna cry."

Another minute of shuddering breaths and Matthew turned his splotchy, tear-streaked face up, his voice barely audible through the tears in his throat. "Alfred…mom's dead," he whimpered, bringing his hand against his mouth to hold back a sob. Alfred could only stared wide-eyed at his brother, try to process what he'd just said as he thought he'd misheard. However, Matthew's horror-struck faced said otherwise. Alfred shook his head, still refusing to believe.

"What?"

"She's dead," he sobbed, his hand unable to conceal the sound. "They found her just a couple blocks from home. She'd gone to get groceries and—" his words were swallowed by tears, bringing both hands against his mouth.

Alfred watched in stunned silence as his brother fell apart, tears rushing down his face, practically choking on his sobs. Alfred opened his arms and said, "Oh, Mattie." His brother collapsed into him, knotting his hands in his quickly dampened shirt. Alfred waited for his own tears, but his cheek remained dry, and was instead filled with a suffocating sense of remorse. He couldn't help but feel responsible as he looked to the flower he'd thrown to the ground.

~.

Insistent shaking roused Alfred from his dream, looking lazily at a worried man in an apron.

"Sir, are you alright? You've been asleep for a while now." Alfred nodded absently, pushing himself out of his chair as the sounds of reality once again filled his ears.

"M'fine. Little hungover." He grinned, grabbing the card from the table and stuffing it in his pocket before quickly ducking out of the shop.

He sighed as he entered the apartment, letting his head fall into his hands as he sat on the couch. He reached for the TV remote, his searching fingers instead finding soft, warm fur. He jumped and raised his head, meeting the green eyes of a cat. Alfred blinked, stunned for a moment before bursting into laugher. The cat had eyebrows! Fucking eyebrows! Thick eyebrows that looked like something someone had scribbled on with marker. Alfred picked up the cat and held it above him, chuckling.

"Hey there, kitty, kitty. Where've you been hiding?" The cat squirmed in Alfred's gasping, falling into his lap. It turned, still sitting in his lap but with his back to him, wrapping his tail around himself. Alfred laughed, playing with the cat's tail, who, in return, gave him a dirty look. He didn't even think cats could do that.

"Aww, what's wrong kitty? Am I buggin' ya?" The cat simply turned away, flicking his tail. Alfred laughed, and scooped him up, cradling the cat and poking at his soft stomach. "Oh, who's a pissy kitty?" The cat made a grunting noise, another laugh rippling through Alfred.

"Where the bloody hell did you get a cat?"

Alfred looked up to see Arthur in the doorway dressed in a suit with briefcase in hand. Alfred felt a blush bite at his cheeks. The man looked damn good in a suit. Arthur looked perplexingly at the cat in Alfred's arms, shutting the door and tossing his briefcase on a side table.

"Isn't this your cat?" Alfred asked, tilting his head.

"Of course not. Don't you think you would've seen a cat wondering around?" Arthur asked, a grin playing beneath his scowl.

"Well I just figured he was shy. Huh kitty, kitty?" The cat bat at his fingers as he twirled them above his head, making Alfred laugh.

"He must be one of Heracles' cats. He's got so many one was bound to get out." Arthur walked over, loosening his tie and leaning over the cat.

"Aww, c'mon he's got to be yours. Look!" Alfred held the cat up in front of Arthur. "He's got your eyebrows!" Arthur sighed and picked the cat up, examining him.

"Just because it's a cat with eyebrows doesn't mean it's mine." The two seemed to scowl at each other as Arthur held him at arms length. Alfred shrugged.

"It's cool if you drew 'em on. I won't judge." Arthur rolled his eyes and dropped the cat back on Alfred.

"It's not my bloody cat," he scowled, the cat crawling up to sit on Alfred's head. Alfred laughed and pointed.

"Look! Cat Hat!" Arthur chuckled despite himself, petting the cat's head.

"Yes, yes, very funny, but we need to get him home." Arthur leaned down, face to face with the cat. "How'd you get in my house, you little bugger?" The cat swatted at Arthur, scratching across his nose. Arthur cried out in surprise and stumbled back, falling over the table and landing on his head.

"Arthur!" Alfred sprang up, running around the table to help Arthur, who was blinking stars out of his eyes, blooding running down the front of his face. "Don't worry Arthur, I'll save you!" Alfred dragged him into the kitchen, dropping him on the floor and searching through the cabinets. Arthur sat up and rubbed his head as Alfred tossed various bottles out of the cabinet. One hit Arthur in the head, turning to scowl at Alfred when he fell to his knees beside him, dabbing at his nose with a wad of napkins. Arthur sputtered and swatted him away.

"I can take care of myself," he grumbled, Alfred already dumping ointment in his hand.

"But you'll get cat back fever!" Alfred pouted. "What am I gonna do if you turn into a cat?"

"Alfred, do you ever listen when you talk?"

"I don't want you to be a cat!"

"There is no such thing as "Cat Back Fever", it's "Cat Scra—"

"Liar! I saw it on TV! This lady turned into a cat!"

"What on Earth were you watching?—Oi!" Alfred slammed his open palm, full of ointment, into Arthur's nose. Arthur rolled back, clutching at his nose and grunting in pain. "That HURT you GIT!"

"Sorry! Let me try again!"

"No! Get away from me!"

"Let me help!"

"I can do it myself!" Arthur made to stand, knocked back to the ground by a tackle from Alfred who promptly sat on him, grinning down triumphantly with the cat still resting blissfully on his head. Arthur bit his lip to keep from laughing, trying to stay angry.

"Here!" He shoved his hand down, stopped as Arthur grabbed his wrist and held it inches from is face. Alfred scowled. "I'm just trying to help!"

"You're making it worse!"

"You're so mean! Why won't you let me help you?" Alfred pouted and squirmed, sending a jolt through Arthur.

"Please don't do that," Arthur grunted, biting his lip.

"Do what? This?" Alfred jostled his hips again, a blush coloring Arthur's cheeks.

"Am I bugging you?"

"Alfred, stop."

"Let me help and I will."

"No, Alfred—"

"C'mon. Let me help."

"Damn it, I said stop—"

"Arthur, may I borrow—" Francis opened the door, blinking back at the scene before him: Alfred straddling Arthur with some sort of strange goo covering his hand. He snickered and stepped back into the hall. "Désolé, I did not mean to interrupt. I'll come back later." The cat leaped off Alfred's head, trotting out the door before Francis pulled it shut.

Arthur sighed as Francis closed the door and Alfred became aware of something hard pressing against his groin. He looked down and gasped, bring his face closer to Arthur's.

"You like Francis!"

"Oh my God," Arthur grumbled, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "No Alfred, I don't like Francis."

"Liar! I can see it!" Alfred's eyes glittered, a wicked grin stretched across his face.

"You're so thick!" Arthur scowled wiping the blood rolling down his cheek. "Hand me a napkin, will you?"

"No. You have to admit it first."

"Alfred—"

"Say it!"

"Alfred, I don't—"

"Don't deny your feelings of love!"

Arthur pushed himself up on his elbows, scowling into Alfred's face. "I don't like Francis."

Alfred scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh really? Why not?"

"I just don't"

"That's not a good reason."

"Alfred I don't like him."

"Why not?"

"Alfred—"

"Tell me, why not?"

"Can you drop—"

"No, tell me why."

"I don't need to explain mys—"

"Tell me!"

"Alfred—!"

"Tell me!"

"Alfred sto—"

"Tellmetellmetellmetellme—"

"Because I like you!"

Alfred blinked, staring silently as a blush crept across Arthur's own shocked face and down his neck, turning him bright red. Arthur tried to speak a couple times, only a rather small squeak escaping, Alfred staring incomprehensively. The silence made Arthur squirm, searching for a way to bounce back, to wave it off. Eventually he managed a lame "Uh…no…. I mean…" and looked away, rubbing his lips together. "Can you please get off me?"

Alfred continued to stare for a moment, slowly processing what Arthur just said. After several minutes of silence, he managed to move his mouth. "What?"

Arthur turned back, scowling as best he could at Alfred. "I said get off me, you twit."

Alfred cocked his head, eyes still wide with confusion. "No, before that. Say it again."

"What? No! Get off me!"

"No, say it!"

"Alfred—" Alfred suddenly lowered himself, lying on top of Arthur, glaring at him from hardly an inch away. Arthur squirmed, trying to wiggle away but the man was too heavy. "Get off me!"

"No," Alfred pouted, defiantly forcing himself on Arthur. "Say it again."

"Alfred, my nose—"

"Say it again."

"Why are you so—"

"Arthur."

"Would you let me finish a bloody se—Ah!" Alfred had arched himself up enough to reach Arthur pants, using his dry hand to toy with his bulge. Arthur jumped and gasped, trying to scoot away, Alfred's light strokes sending shivers through him.

"Stop that!"

"Say it again."

"Damn it A—ah!"

"C'mon. Or you wanna ruin your fancy pants?" Alfred grinned cheekily at Arthur, the glimmer in his eye turned fiendish. Alfred nipped at the base of Arthur's neck, receiving a suppressed moan. He began tugging at Arthur's belt—

"Stop, stop! Okay!" Alfred glanced up at Arthur, his eyes closed in embarrassment against his scarlet face. "I like you. I…like you." He breathed, looking at Alfred with watery eyes. "Can you get off now?"

Alfred grinned, rolling off Arthur. Arthur sat up holding his nose, pushing himself up shakily.

"I can help ya if ya want," Alfred offered cheerily. Arthur carefully kept his gaze away from Alfred, studying the cabinets as he stood.

"My nose can wait," he mumbled, shoving fresh napkins against his nose before trudging out of the kitchen.

"I wasn't talking about your nose," Alfred snickered. Arthur turned down the hall in silence, the slam of his door making Alfred laugh.

Alfred stood and stretch, a goofy smile still plastered across his face as he washed the ointment from his hand. He felt light and giggly, like at any moment he could float up and touch the ceiling. He finally knew who Arthur likes! And it was him! That's so cute! He considered knocking on Arthur's door and offering his assistance again, laughing as he thought of Arthur's irritated blush. The fading light of the sun seemed make the cabinets glow, reinforcing Alfred's giddiness. He hopped up on the counter, swinging his legs. Everything seemed brighter and sweeter and oh fuck that little shit better be lying.

Alfred fixed his stare on the oven's clock, displaying the time: 6:37. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck! What's another word? Shit! No, that doesn't quite do it. FUCK.

Alfred stomped off the counter, slamming his palm against the digital little shit. How could it be six already? It couldn't have been later than noon when he left the apartment, and he was only with Ivan about half an hour. Had he really slept so long in that shop?

Alfred groaned and turned to the sink, gripping the edge of the counter as his stomach lurched. He'd rather vomit than find the address etched on that damn card. Once the queasiness had passed, he sighed and looked out the window, the glow from the sun illuminating the tops of buildings. Somewhere throughout the afternoon, it'd managed to outrun the clouds, gathering the city in its gentle embrace. But now, with nowhere left to run, the clouds devoured the last of its light, leaving the city in bleak shadow. The card burned in Alfred's pocket. He'd been careful to keep it away from the pocket he kept his brother's locket in. He'd worked too hard to keep that man away from Mattie; even a gift from his brother seemed risky, as though a touch or a glance could doom him. Alfred pulled the locket from his pocket, eyes still on the horizon as he felt the weight of it in his hand. He couldn't go to Ivan with it. If he found it…

He felt a little weird without it, but it was best to leave it here. He placed on his dresser in a little glass multicolor heart that looked as though it were painted by a five year old. Alfred thought it was cute.

He shifted from foot to foot in front of Arthur's door, debating whether or not to tell him. He could just leave and sneak back in later… But that would probably worry him. He could always not go… No. Stupid. For all Alfred knew, that man had implanted a GPS inside him or something. Maybe he was magic. Shivering at the thought of Ivan in possession of magic, Alfred quickly knocked on Arthur's door.

"What?!" came an irritated voice. "If you're just here to laugh—"

"No, this is serious, promise! Um…" He stared at the closed door, chewing on his lip. Arthur remained silent. "I have to go out for a while."

"Out? For what?"

"I…I forgot to get the stuff you asked about. Haha…sorry."

Arthur sounded a bit worried as he responded. "Alright. Be safe."

"Sure…" Alfred mumbled, trudging down the hall.

~.

Alfred glared at the building looming before him, so tall the top vanished into the black clouds. It was surprisingly close to his apartment—the walk couldn't have been more than a ten-minutes. He didn't like having Ivan so close, the very thought sending chills down his spine. On shaky legs he forced himself inside, glancing around the lobby for a clock. 6:58. Well, he was on time.

He approached the front desk, deserted and rather dark, save a monitor spilling blue light over the little space. Alfred rang the bell, the high-pitched chime reverberating throughout the silent room. He rubbed his lips together, drumming his fingers on the desk as the chime faded and the room was once again silent. Another moment and a timid young boy dashed out of a room further down the hall, stopping in front of Alfred with wide eyes and a clipboard clutched to his chest.

"You are Mr. Jones?" He asked, visibly trembling as he looked up at Alfred. Alfred stiffly nodded. "This way please." He spun, guiding Alfred down the corridor he'd come from and into an elevator. The boy punched a button and the doors closed, bringing them skyward. Alfred glanced over, the boy staring determinately at his feet. Alfred reached out to touch his shoulder, the boy jumping at the contact.

"What's your name?" he asked. The boy pursed his lips, shivering as though he stood in a blizzard. "What're you so afraid of?" The boy only shook his head.

Another awkward moment of silence and the doors opened to a wall of glass overlooking the murky town. Ivan had his back to them, looking out the windows from behind a rather large, half circle of a desk. The boy pushed Alfred out of the elevator and punched another button, the doors closing with a muffled thud.

Alfred glanced around the office, unsure if he should announce himself or silently wait for Ivan to turn. He reached into his pocket, remembering that he'd left the locket at the apartment. He suddenly felt very vulnerable, regretting leaving it behind. His heart hammered, his hands shook, and Ivan finally turned, his strange eyes seeming to glow against his silhouette.

"Welcome to the Braginski empire!" he laughed, waving his arm around the space of his office. "Do you like? I just moved in last year. We were thinking of buying out…Oh, but that doesn't matter. Please, have a seat." He gestured to the lavish seats around his desk, sitting in his own plump chair. Alfred hesitated for a moment before taking one, surprised by how comfy they were.

"Wow!" he said out loud, rubbing the armrest. "These are really nice! What is this, velvet?" Ivan nodded.

"Imported!" he chimed, sitting back in his chair and gazing at Alfred with an amused smile. Alfred suddenly became conscious of what he was doing, quickly sitting straight and folding his hands in his lap, steadily meeting the Russian's gaze as he tried to hold back an embarrassed blush. Ivan laughed.

"It is all right. They are very nice chairs. I want my guests to be comfortable," he smiled again, playfully. Alfred smiled nervously back. Behind him, he heard the elevator ring but didn't turn to see who had arrived. Ivan paid no mind to it, keeping his gaze on Alfred. Ivan leaned forward, placing his elbows on the desk, pressing his lips against his clasped hands.

"Now, of your payment," he began. "We have already taken money out of the equation. However, I pay very high to my mercenaries and I am always in need of hitmen." He looked expectantly at Alfred.

"Oh, I can't hit the blindside of a barn. I accidently shot M—uh… a…close friend of mine once when I got into my stepdad's gun stash."

Ivan's eyes flashed dangerously. "You have a stepfather?"

"Had," he corrected. "He passed on when I was twelve." The flame in Ivan's eyes died down.

"Pity," he sighed. "There is always office work. Though, with your debt, it is doubtful that it may ever be paid off. Would you like to try?"

"I guess… I've never really thought of myself as working in a cubical."

Ivan shook his head. "No. It does not fit you. I have enough workers; one more will make no difference to me. Hmm…" A sudden flash made Alfred jump, quickly followed by a clap of thunder. Ivan laughed.

"Afraid of thunder?"

"No, it just…shocked me," he laughed, glancing away. Ivan's smile grew.

"I believe I know a way to settle your debt. It is quite brilliant."

Alfred eyed Ivan, frowning. "What is it?"

A cloth came against Alfred's mouth, making it hard to breath. Alfred screamed and pulled at the hand, but it was strong and held him. He started to squirm but pair of arms quickly wrapped around him, holding his against his chair. Spots danced before Alfred's eyes, struggling to take each breath, his limbs growing tired and heavy. He glanced at Ivan's playful smile before the world fell away.

~.

The shadows clouding his blurry vision slowly faded, his droopy eyes met with a bright, bare bulb against a white ceiling, bits of dust caught in the light as they skipped around the glow. Alfred groaned, moving his hand to rub his tired eyes, only to find it trapped above him. He looked up, his hands tangled in thick, frayed rope that dug into his wrists. They wrapped around a thin iron pole, several other identical ones running to either side. Alfred let his head fall back, realizing he was lying in some sort of bed with sheets that made his back itch. Wait…

Alfred squirmed, the sheets scraping against his back, his legs, and several other places that they should not be touching.

Yup.

Naked.

Great. Wonderful.

Alfred sighed and looked around, painfully twisting at his binding at a futile attempt to loosen them. The room was utterly bare, save a nightstand with an unlit lamp and a man in a chair, reading a book with a large, clear bottle hanging loosely in his left hand. He looked over at Alfred, smiling as he closed the book.

"Chelovek v futlyare," he grinned, placing it on the nightstand. "The Man in a Shell. Have you ever read Chekhov?"

"Check off? Like a check off list?" Ivan laughed, shaking his head.

"Net, moy kollega, he is a writer."

"I didn't know lists could write books. That's pretty damn amazing!" Ivan laughed again, leaving the bottle by the leg of his chair. "Hey, what's up with this?" Alfred pulled at his bindings, wincing as they pinched his wrists. "Kinda hurts."

"Well, of course they are necessary. I can't have you running away moy drug."

"What?" Ivan removed his jacket placing it across this chair. "Hey, man this isn't funny. Seriously, let me go. I thought we were gonna talk about payments a shit."

"This is payment," he grinned, climbing up to straddle Alfred. "You did not think of this option?"

"What? Okay, dude, stop…" Alfred craned his neck away as Ivan bent down to kiss it, running the edge of his teeth against the line of Alfred's jaw. Something hard pressed against him, making Alfred squirm uncomfortably. He tried to use his bindings to pull himself away but Ivan was heavy, his weight firmly pressed against Alfred's thighs.

"Okay, jokes over. Let me go." Ivan only chuckled at Alfred's flustered expression, trailing his fingers down Alfred's chest. He swallowed, his heart hammering in his chest, his breathing becoming panicked. Ivan sat up to pull his shirt off tossing it carelessly to the floor before going back to work on Alfred. He tried to shake Ivan off, only managing to brush the bulge in Ivan's pants and Alfred had to bit his lip to hold back a cry.

"Vy teperʹ moya," he mumbled, gripping Alfred's hips. Alfred had to swallow a few times before he found his voice, and even then it was shaky.

"What? What's that mean?"

Ivan looked up, holding Alfred's nipple between his teeth, making Alfred jump in a strange jolt of pleasure.

"You are mine now," he whispered, letting his hands wonder further down Alfred's torso. He wrapped his hand around Alfred's shaft, making him gasp and buck as Ivan gave a sudden squeeze.

"The fuck, man? This isn't funny. Knock it off!" Ivan grabbed Alfred's chin, forcing him to look to Ivan in the eye. Ivan's smile was small, playful and amused bit more than slightly irritated.

"Could you not understand me? Is my English that bad?" he chuckled, so close Alfred could feel his icy breath against his cheeks. "Let me try again. You. Belong. To me. You understand me now, da? Slow enough for you?" Alfred kept silent, Ivan's nails digging into his chin. "I will do as I please and you will be silent. This, I will take as payment."

Alfred ground his teeth, Ivan's piercing gaze driving the words from his throat. Once he'd released him, Alfred found his voice. "I never agreed to this! This is rape! I'll—" Ivan smacked him across the face. Alfred had to blink a couple times before he could see straight again.

"I asked you to be silent," Ivan's usually joyful tone turned cold, a soft hiss looming above him, sitting straight to block the light and coating Alfred in his shadow. "I will warn you once. Any further resistance will be reprimanded." He squeezed Alfred again, receiving a soft whimper in return. "You wouldn't want to loose something precious," he sneered.

Alfred locked his jaw, staring fixedly at the ceiling as Ivan played with him, toying between pleasure and pain as he indulged himself in Alfred's reactions. He tried to suppress it, to bite back the irritating moans and gasps that rose in his throat, but Ivan poked and teased and pinched them out, the indignant blush that burned Alfred's cheeks only adding to his humiliation. Before long Alfred was covered in marks, Ivan sitting back every so often to admire his work.

He wanted to scream and kick Ivan in the face, wanted to break his nose, tear off the bindings and dart out the door, run as far as he could, naked or not. He found himself thinking of Arthur, of how Alfred would arrive, covered in bruises and bites and sobbing uncontrollably. How Arthur would ask what was wrong, comfort him, promise him it would never happen again, to call the police. But the police wouldn't help. Alfred already knew that. He'd tried once, as a way out, but Ivan's position was far too high to have any real effect. A few smooth words and quite a larger sum of money later and any evidence they'd gathered was gone, coming to Alfred with empty hands, saying the man was clean and not to involve them in such cruel pranks unless he was looking to be arrested himself.

His thoughts lingered on Arthur, beginning to wonder what he'd be like as a lover. He was so awkward and always flustered. Sensitive too. He'd be tiny in Alfred's arms, his fragile little body gasping beneath him, blushing as he'd bring his arms up to cover his face in embarrassment. And Alfred would move his hands and kiss him, tell him not to be shy as he cried out. Alfred found himself getting aroused, his imagination getting the better of him. Ivan's chuckle brought him back to reality, in the dusty room with the dim light and the smell of mold in the air.

"Finally getting excited?" he lulled, running his tongue along the length of Alfred, receiving an unexpected moan. Alfred bit his lip, trying to clear his head and suppress the noises that bubbled on his lips. He sunk himself in imagination again, desperately trying to block out Ivan. He almost smiled as he thought of how mad Arthur would be to find Alfred thinking such things. Well, as if he'd ever know, but still. Besides, who's to say Arthur would even want to take it that far?

Alfred suddenly realized he hadn't said anything to Arthur before he'd left, nothing about how he felt about him. He hadn't really thought about it. He tended not to think about these kinds of things; they were always an after thought. He liked to just go with the flow—life was easier when thinking wasn't required. Now he found himself flooded with thoughts, practically drowning in his muddled mind as he found a moment to think. Not exactly an ideal one either, considering a madman currently had his mouth wrapped around his dick.

His thoughts deserted him once again as Ivan pressed a finger against Alfred, making him jump. He opened his mouth but quickly shut it as Ivan dragged his teeth along his cock. He drove a finger in, and another, both moving far too fast for any sort of comfort. Alfred grunted, arching his back and grinding his teeth against the pain. He tried to focus on the pleasure of his front, but sharp pangs of pain still filled him, cries threatened forth as he bit his lip.

After what seemed like an eternity, Ivan removed his fingers. Alfred sighed, his head lolling to the side, nearly whimpering as Ivan withdrew his mouth. Something much larger than fingers was pressed against him and Alfred looked up at Ivan, fear flashing in his eyes as the man grinned down at him.

"What's wrong? Scared?" he purred, watching Alfred with hungry eyes. Alfred stared back at Ivan in stubborn silence. Strangely enough, Ivan still wore his scarf, the end falling to blush against Alfred's stomach. Absently, he wondered if the scarf was attached to him, or if Ivan was cursed and forced to wear it no matter where he went, even in the shower or swimming.

His thoughts curtly shut off as Ivan thrust into him, Alfred unable to hold back his cry. It hurt. It hurt damn it! He couldn't stop the strangled, agonizing cries that flew from his throat, tears beginning to roll down the sides of his face. He turned his face away, trying to bury himself in his arm, trying to muffle his screams. But it was no use; they pressed on, turning to a mixture of shout and sob, each thrust sending a new wave of pain through Alfred. He tried to form a sentence, a word, but they all came out as a disgruntled groan. He wanted to kick, to squirm, to pull himself away, but he couldn't find the strength. His entire body was numb with pain, even his screams fading to a breathy whimper, his gaze locked on the abandoned chair, trying to lose himself in imagination again. But even that prove too laborious a task and he let himself be taken, the forceful waves eventually building to pleasure, his grunts turning to soft moans. The heat built to a shameful climax, his body tensing as pleasure was once again replaced with pain. A few more agonizing thrusts and Ivan finished with a grunt, his fingers digging into Alfred's hips.

For a while Ivan sat and looked Alfred over, that ever-present grin stretched across his face. Alfred kept his gaze of the chair, silently urging him to pull back. Finally, Alfred was released, tears still glistening in the edge of his eye. Ivan sat back on his heels, still looking Alfred over. It made him uncomfortable, the sickening grin. He wanted to cover himself, the hide under the covers and forget Ivan and his stupid grin; but the best he could do was turn his face away. Eventually, he became irritated enough to ask.

"Well?" he looked to Ivan, giving him the dirtiest look he could manage covered in sweat and fluids that didn't all belong to him. "You've got your payment. Untie me. I wanna go home." Ivan laughed, bringing himself to lay on top of Alfred, crushing him with his weight.

"Oh no, glupyy malʹchik, that was a…let us say, 'installment'."

Alfred raised an eyebrow, fear eating at his stomach. "A what?"

Ivan laughed again. "You did not think one sex time would be enough to pay off millions in debt."

"I don't know, I'd say I'm worth a million or so."

Ivan's smile turned sinister, his eyes glinting with mischief. "Perhaps, to some, but not to me. I'm going to need more."

Alfred scowled. "What, like another go? Look, I'm kinda drained right now…" Ivan smirked.

"Of course, not now. Let us say…you come back every other day until I grow tired. Then it will be repaid."

Alfred's jaw fell open. Every other day?! He couldn't do this every other week. "No way. Once a month."

Ivan's smiled wavered. "You wish to bargain? Do you really think you're in such a position to—"

"Look buddy, my ass ain't up for this every other damn day. I'll split in two before I'm anywhere near payin' this shit off. Once a month."

Ivan's smile dropped to a pout. "Three times a week."

"Twice a month."

"Twice a week."

"Three times a month."

"Once a week. This is my final offer and I will not take any others."

Alfred sighed. Well, it's somethin'. "Alright. Once a week."

Ivan's smile returned. "Every Monday then. You will be here no later than 7 o'clock and I will do as I want as long as I want."

"No way, you get an hour."

"Two."

"Fuck you."

Ivan grabbed Alfred's chin, eyes flashing above his sickening grin. "You watch your mouth," he growled. "Two hour minimum. That should suffice, da?" Ivan crushed his chin, forcing it up. Even if Alfred wanted to answer he wouldn't have been able to move his jaw. Ivan smirked triumphantly.

"Then we have a deal."

~.

Outside it was dark and raining, the only light to guide Alfred home being the glow from shop windows and streetlamps at the edge of the road. He dunked from awning to awning, keeping as dry as he could. Each step was agony, pain shooting up his spine as he tried to cover a limp. He'd tried sitting on the ledge of a shop window but that'd only made it ten times worse. He remembered to stop in a convenience store, pulling out the list still shoved in his pocket and retrieving the things Arthur had forgotten before continuing to the apartment.

Alfred slowly walked down the hall, unusually lively considering it was long past midnight. He could hear Francis screaming something in French from what he assumed as either Gilbert's or Antonio's apartment, angry metal music blasting through speakers along with the sound of cheers and out-of-tune singing. Across the hall were the sounds of guitar and singing in a pretty language Alfred couldn't identify. Italian? Spanish? He didn't know. Only half cared, really. The smoke from the door labeled "1420" no longer bothered him, becoming a rather common sight that Arthur said not to worry about.

A man wearing a blanket around his waist burst from the door next to it, practically bowling Alfred over in the process. He sprinted down the hall, pursued by a taller man, beer in hand and shirt tied around his forehead. He, unlike the last man, smacked into Alfred, sending this both sprawling on the floor, shattering his beer in the process. Without even a glance to Alfred he pushed himself up, scurrying down the hall.

"WAIT LUKAS. LET ME LOVE YOU!"

"GET AWAY FROM ME."

"WHY WON'T YOU ACCEPT ME?"

"FUCK YOURSELF."

Another man appeared, really more a boy than a man, leaning down to help Alfred up. "I am so sorry, please, forgive them they—MATHIAS. GET BACK HERE AND APOLOGIZE."

Alfred waved him away, letting the man help him to his feet. "That's alright, really." He nodded before running after the two, now battling between the doors of the elevator. Alfred watched them for a minute before looking in the apartment, one man standing by the door, looking down the hall but making no move to follow, and another, scarier looking man further back, freezing Alfred with a stare. He held him for a minute before looking away to take a drink of his beer.

"D'n't mind th'm. One's drunk 'n th' ot'er's losin' h's mind." Alfred nodded absently before continuing down the hall.

Relieved, he finally opened the door to Arthur's apartment, tossing the groceries on the couch. The lights were off save the lamp on Arthur's desk, papers scattered about the desk itself with the open laptop sending bright light across Arthur's sleeping figure. His tie lay abandoned on the floor, his shirt undone and hanging off his shoulders, one arm cushioning his head on the desk, the other dangling by his side. In the time Alfred had been gone he'd fixed up his nose, several band-aids taped across it.

Reluctantly, Alfred shook his shoulder. Arthur sighed in his sleep, remaining still except for a twitch in his left hand. Alfred shook him again.

"Arthur," he whispered, leaning closer to his ear. "I think a bed would be comfier." He mumbled something too soft for Alfred to hear. "What?" No response. He half considered slamming the laptop on his head but thought it too mean. Besides, he looked kinda cute when he was sleeping. Maybe he should carry him. Arthur'd probably get all mad and embarrassed if he woke up. Alfred chuckled at the thought. At the sound, Arthur stirred, opening an eye.

"Alfred," he mumbled, pushing himself up. His cheek had an indentation from where the edge of the computer had dug in. Hair ruffled, droopy eyes, rumpled clothes, he looked exhausted. Alfred frowned.

"What's wrong? You look like hell." Arthur passed a hand over his face, stretching with a groan.

"Long night." He looked back at the papers in disgust. "Bloody hell. I'm still not done," he frowned, looking to the corner of the screen for the time. "Did you just get home?" He asked, turning to look at Alfred quizzically. Alfred smiled awkwardly.

"I uh…got lost."

"I find that hard to believe."

"I…well…ran into someone. An old f…riend."

"Oh," Arthur said a bit too lightly, turning back to his computer. "Well, it's late. Why don't you get to bed?"

"Aren't you going too?"

"Of course not. I'm busy."

"You can finish it later."

"I most certainly cannot! I'll be drowning if papers if I'm to leave it now."

"I think you already are," Alfred scowled, poking at a stack near the edge of the desk. "C'mon man, why donchu take a break? You're exhausted." Arthur shook his head, glaring at the computer.

"I'm fine. I just need a bit of tea to keep me up."

"Coffee'd be better."

"I prefer tea."

"I'm just sayin' it'd keep you up lo—"

"Shut it," Arthur mumbled, pushing his chair back. He stood and turned toward the kitchen, stumbling into the desk as stars danced before his eyes. Alfred jumped up to steady him, Arthur falling stunned against him.

"I think you should go to bed."

"I'm fine!" he scowled almost breathlessly. Alfred held him until his sight returned, Arthur quickly blushing and pushing Alfred away. "I'm fine," he repeated, "just stood up too fast…" Alfred frowned and closed Arthur's laptop. "Hey!" Arthur made to open it again but Alfred caught his wrist, forcing Arthur to step back as he advanced on him.

"Time for bed."

"What are you doing?"

"C'mon, beddy-by."

"Beddy-what?"

"Let's go."

"I have work to do!"

"Do it later."

"I can't!"

"Yes you can."

"Alfred—!" He cut his off with a kiss, hard and quick but enough to shut him up. Alfred released him, Arthur blushing and looking away as Alfred spun him around and herded him down the hall. "I wish you would quit that."

"Why?" Alfred asked innocently, peeking over Arthur's shoulder. "You like me, doncha?"

Arthur scowled, folding his arms. "That doesn't mean you're obliged to indulge me." Alfred laughed, throwing his arms around Arthur and hugging him tightly.

"But I like you too," he grinned, looking at Arthur over his shoulder. "So it's cool, right?" Arthur looked dumbfounded, staring back at Alfred in disbelief. Alfred waited patiently to let it sink in.

"Wait…so…" Arthur began, but couldn't seem to find his words, moving his lips against silent words.

"Is that bad?"

"No…I just…didn't think…" Arthur bit his lip and looked away, trying to gather his thoughts. "I thought…well, you left and I didn't think you'd be coming back. I thought I'd scared you…when I said…." Arthur chewed on his lip, Alfred nuzzling his neck as it burned red.

"Nah takes a lot more than that to chase me off. Just took a while to sink in," Alfred lulled, breathing deeply as he caught the scent of spices and tea in Arthur's hair. "I was thinkin' about it while I was out and I realized I think about you a lot," he grinned as Arthur met his eyes again. "My brother always used to tell me I need to listen to what people say more often or I could end up hurtin' 'em with misin…misinter…uh..."

"Misinterpretations."

"Yeah, that," Alfred laughed, a ghost of a smile hovering on Arthur's lips.

"Then…you…so that means…"

"This," Alfred smirked playfully, pulling Arthur's chin closer in a gentle, much more sincere kiss. He ran his tongue over Arthur's lips, Arthur slowly giving in as he opened wider to let Alfred in. Arthur tentatively placed a hand against Alfred's cheek, a soft moan escaping as the touch made Alfred deepen the kiss. Alfred felt that light bubbly feeling building in his chest again, as though they were buoyant, floating through the air, connected by a kiss.

Arthur was the one to break it, pulling away breathless and blushing but looking Alfred in the eye. "I…should get to bed," he laughed awkwardly as he reached for his door, pausing at the handle. "Goodnight, Alfred," he said, throwing a grin over his shoulder before ducking into his room.

Alfred squirmed as his pants grew tighter.

Translation Notes:

Net, moy kollega- no, my friend/colleague

moy drug- my friend/mate/lover/chum

glupyy malʹchik-silly boy

Again, please excuse the Russian if it is off or translated incorrectly. I don't know Russian so I can't tell ;_;

Thank you to those you reviewed! I appreciate the feed back (^_^) And for the record, I think tea is better than coffee. Sorry but tea is freakin' delicious. Especially green tea. Yum \(^_^)/ Sorry this chapter took longer than usual, but it's a long chapter :D Yay! I hope you all enjoyed it. I've been thinking of writing a GerIta story lately that takes places in the same universe, but I'm not sure yet. We'll see (^_^) I also added the scene about the Nordics because I've been reading the Deal-With-Sealand tumblr lately and it's just so cute! Gah! It gave me an idea for a DenNor fic (I know, a little weird cuz the tumblr is Sealand, Sweden, and Finland…I don't understand how my brain operates either) Again, though, that story is just floating thoughts at the moment. Who knows what the future may hold :O. Alright, enough of my rambling. See you all in the next chapter (hopefully!). Thanks for reading :D