The young Prince squeaked (in his new, manly voice), when he realized there were fingers intertwining with his own. Alfred turned his body around so he lay on his stomach and he gave Ivan a fatigued, but genuine smile. He mouthed 'I love you' and fit the crown of his head against Ivan's chest.
"This really changes things, right?" Alfred whispered, hoping his voice was able to project any volume. He had just given his virginity to a King, a man who was actually quite older than him, AND it was out of wedlock. "I…I don't want you to think I'm some sort of harlot-I really hope that th-this-"
Ivan laughed lightly, returning to stroke the teenager's slightly damp hair. He pressed his lips against Alfred's shoulder and murmured endearments in his mother tongue. "You are beautiful, and you have given me no other reason as to ever think you false. You have made me the luckiest person alive, and you are not to be spared. I love you, my dear."
"My parents are so going to kill me," the Prince sighed. Ivan's dextrous fingers looped and curved around Alfred's ear and that single nerve from the gentlest of touches made Alfred's eyes widened. Had he forgotten the makeup?!
"Have I ever mentioned how clear and flawless your skin is? Must be a perk of living your life in Diamonds, I presume. You are more golden, however." Ivan whispered, once again overdoing it on the compliments. This time, though, Alfred was glad. It meant that his Marking was covered- probably the makeup stayed on longer than he thought.
They lay there on the warm four-poster bed, just keeping each other company until one or the other fell into slumber. There was no guarantee as to when they'd officially make things real to their families, or even to the public. Alfred shut his eyes to fake his slumber, but part of him was still worried. The biggest of his concerns was that secret he still held under lock and key. His Dad might be furious that he'd surrendered his virtue to a man such as Ivan- did Arthur even know Ivan?- but he would always be proud if Alfred kept his single job- and that was to protect his identity. He could not wait to return to Spades to give his parents the news.
He waited until Ivan was truly asleep- touching a very sensitive spot on his neck- and then picked up Ivan's rather large hand. Alfred turned the wrist over to confirm his suspicions. The black and green Clubs emblem was Ivan's Mark, much like the navy and purple Spades emblem behind Alfred' ear.
Alfred's head lolled slowly back and forth, trying to choose the right spot to begin his story. Ivan crossed his arm impatiently and gave Alfred an un-amused scowl. The blond sighed dramatically.
"Well, fine, okay, I know you want to know something in particular- what is it?" Alfred groaned, rubbing his chin.
"Gilbert." Ivan replied without hesitation. "How real is this thing? Why him of people? He's such a-"
"Stop, Ivan," the Spadian paused. Something wasn't sitting right for Alfred, and actually concerned the twenty-year old for moment. Was he just going to spill everything that he had kept inside for so long?
A part of him still trusted the King standing before him. That part wanted to keep Ivan in his company, to see him after that long absence. But from the way Ivan pushed for such quick answers, it made Alfred question how much was necessary to say. "Do you actually care about everything, or is it all just going to be Gilbert?"
Ivan noticed how the pitch of Alfred's voice grew concerning, and that turned on headlights to the King of Clubs. He uncharacteristically waved his hands as if to deny the accusation, even if in his head he knew them to be as true as the sky is blue. "No, no, Alfred, I care about everything, I do…"
"But right now, it's Gilbert and me that you want to know about," Alfred stated, pushing his spectacles up higher on his nose. He considered the idea of giving as little as possible to Ivan, and the more Ivan's expressions seemed to press Alfred to begin an actual story, the more appealing it became to Alfred. Eventually, the blond nodded and asked Ivan to take a seat. It was going to be a long story.
"Please take in consideration for five years I've waited for you."
The words weighed down Alfred's earlier confidence, but he nodded understandingly, looking down at the table.
"After that night…I woke up and you had left-"
"Alfred, do not put this all on me! You know where I had to be-" Ivan intercepted, standing up. There was no possible way Alfred was going to play the blame game in all of this. Nope. Nope. Nope.
"Hey, big guy, my story. Mineeeeee." Alfred countered, his voice just a tad teasing. He clasped his hands together to show that he was definitely not going to barter with this- if Ivan wanted the story, he was going to have it only if he behaved, and that was that. The King of Clubs raised an eyebrow before sitting back down, jerking his chin for Alfred to continue.
"Alright. I wasn't blaming you, I-van. You're right, I knew you were leaving…it was my reason for it. I needed some reassurance that you cared for me as much as I do." ("I still do." Ivan whispered, almost inaudible, but Alfred's eyes flickered to read something draw out from Ivan's lips) Alfred gave Ivan a shrug. "When I heard you went off to war w-w-with Spades, I got scared in a sense. I was going to visit my parents to get out of my rut- make sense right?"
Ivan gave Alfred a hard look. "I have never met your parents- they reside nearby, no?"
"You're getting ahead of yourself, Ivan."
"Continue."
Alfred decided this was going to be a good place to jump. There was something in him that made it impossible for him to come out with everything now, when they were both so tense and uncomfortable around each other."Before he was officially Joker, Gilbert was actually one of Francis's really good friends. He became a sort of messenger to my family and Francis. I-I think you know how much my parents meant to Francis, anyway.
You promised you wouldn't ever do anything to hurt me, but indirectly you being at w-w-war, fighting…it just became too much. I couldn't keep up with that fantasy, especially with so much uncertainty anymore. You were going to come back, and I know of that rule where once you're 30, you have to wed, and there was no way I was going to be a Queen- me, a S-Diamonds boy?"
"That's stupidity right there!" Ivan objected. His face turned red as he got up and waved an accusatory finger at Alfred, whose blue eyes sparkled in slight fear. "I-I came back, and all I wanted was you-"
"I was 16 then, Ivan."
"Gilbert is older than me, I swear on that, Alfred."
"It's not that…I still wanted you, but I knew it couldn't be…Ivan, I don't know if you noticed, but…you're the King of Clubs. When the war ended, I didn't know if there was really any hope anymore. I don't know what changed, and you've missed so much. And during that time…someone else filled that vacancy…"
Ivan pursed his lips to avoid sending Gilbert to the deepest pits of Hell. "And that's all that you want to say, hm? He's the Joker, now, need I remind you? A very esteemed man, whose title ranks near King, if not equivalent. Is there any pressure there? Why not?"
"If this makes you feel better, sweetie, I don't know how long it'll last. We're like the same person, and that doesn't always do good." Alfred said lamely, oblivious to his words. They just came out naturally.
The King of Clubs gave no immediate response, only in a trance by the light nickname. He was over thinking it, clearly, because nothing on Alfred's face signalled that he'd caught his words.
"Riddle me this, Alfred: Would there have been any way you'd accept my proposal if there had been no war?"
The question shouldn't have caught him off-guard by such a length, but it nearly stopped Alfred's heart. Those years gone and past, Ivan had actually answered his teenage-self's question: Had Ivan ever thought of proposing?
But as ideal and desirable as that was, in the reality, Alfred knew he should have been glad he had never been asked. There was no way it would end well, no way it could truly even begin. Right now, his closest family was the Royal House of Diamonds, and they had other ventures to pursue, and he would never seek advice regarding life with another to Gilbert (especially since the Jack held a special hatred for the King of Clubs). He was, and always would be Spadian. Even without the castle, and the carriages with the Spade-emblem littered and stitched everywhere, that was who he was. There was no fusing of Spades and Clubs.
"Ivan…" Alfred said slowly. "Remember how you asked me about my parents, where they were?"
Ivan vaguely remembered that, and he remembered he hadn't been important because Alfred had waved it off. "Da."
Unsure, flickering blue eyes tried to give the more serious face ever as they bore into Ivan's violet-hued ones. "They're not here anymore…my parents were caught in the Spades-Clubs crossfire."
And if he hadn't felt so anchored down before, Ivan knew at the moment he had ultimately failed Alfred, failed himself. It all made sense now.
"But I would never purposely try to keep you out of my life…" Alfred added, a hint of optimism in his voice.
