The coffee shop buzzed with conversation, accompanied by the intermittent harmony of the machines doing their jobs. It was a block away from the university, and Leon fit in well with the college crowd. In baggy jeans and a black hoodie, he could be mistaken for any other millenial in the place, here to grab some coffee and bang out a shitty screenplay on his laptop. The baseball cap pulled low over his eyes would make it hard for even people who knew him to pick him out from the crowd. He needed anonymity for this meeting.
As if on cue, Mei hurried through the door. Her long, dark hair was pulled up into the kind of sloppy bun she wouldn't be caught wearing on her worst day, sweatpants and a flannel that was at least two sizes two big added to the illusion that this girl was anyone but Mei Li. The bulky Clark Kent glasses were a nice touch, too, but maybe a little much. He signaled her over to his table and graciously gestured for her to sit.
She took the coffee he slid across the table with a gracious thanks, looking like she needed it. With the bags under her eyes and the surly expression on her face, she looked very much the exhausted undergrad. It was amusing, given that he knew why she hadn't gotten much sleep, and that he was the cause.
"Really, Leon? Your scapegoat was Homura? I know damn well whatever he told Xia, Xia didn't tell you. She's hated you since we were kids." Mei scoffed, setting down her coffee with a terse click. "Kiku isn't buying it, either. He's had me up for days hunting down a mole he's never going to find! If I wasn't so damn tired, this would be fucking hilarious. But I am, and it's not." She groaned, letting her head fall into her hands.
"I know, Mei, I'm sorry. But I have something I think will make it up to you." He told her, waving the file Chen had given him in her face before handing it over. Light a few crucial papers, of course. "Your boss has really outdone himself this time." He chuckled. Mei gave him a skeptical look, but opened the file, thumbing through the papers. Her frowned deepened with every new bit of evidence.
The flare of her nostrils and the thin, hard line her mouth had become were the only visible signs of her anger. She was deadly calm as she took Alfred's picture out of the file, her hand clutching it hard enough to crinkle the paper.
"Cops?" She asked, her voice low and icy. "Honda hired cops?" Rubbing her temples, Mei let out a heavy sigh and tossed the photo back on the table with a frustrated flick. "This is exactly what I needed right now, thank you Kiku." She scoffed, pinching the bridge of her nose and growling under her breath. "This is it, Leon. The last straw. Kiku's already ready to start a witch hunt. If this gets out, and he starts asking questions, I'm finished!" She looked back over at the photo and snorted in disgust.
"Calm down." He told her, rolling his eyes. "Plans change, when the need arises, and this may actually be more fortuitous than you think." Mei gave him a skeptical look and crossed her arms over her chest, her face still a barely subdued storm.
"What do you mean?" She asked, her nails digging into her flannel. He had her on the hook, now all he had to do was reel her in.
"We know who they are, where they are, what they're doing, what they want. We own them, and they never even have to know it. They could solve all of our problems without us having to lift a finger." He was grinning now, his victory practically within his grasp. "They could easily take out Honda and Yao for us."
"And how do you expect to get them to do that?" She asked, raising an 's grin never faltered.
"We just let them do their job. Maybe arrange for a serendipitous discovery. Then when they come to arrest them, we can make sure things don't go so well for Honda and Yao." He said, leaning on his elbows and looking across the table at her expectantly.
"Things do tend to go wrong when the law gets involved." Mei said slowly, coming around to the idea. "Its easy to get the bullets to start flying, and the pigs won't care who shot who as long as it isn't one of theirs." Her grin mirrored his as she considered the possibility. "And we wouldn't even have to be there, we'd know when to have something important to do elsewhere." Leon chuckled, steepling his fingers together.
"Which is why I need you." He told her. A feeble wisp of guilt tried to cast its shadow over him. He had loved this woman, once. He had hoped to have the chance to love her again. But she was becoming dangerous, and sentiment didn't conquer the criminal underworld. "I have eyes and ears all over the city, but there's one place I don't have them. You're going to have to monitor them inside of the house. I'll need your eyes and ears to be sharper than ever."
"As if they could be sharper." She scoffed, drawing herself up a little. Proud, but rightfully so. Mei was one of the keenest people he'd ever met. Too keen for her own good. Yao had never quite been able to give her the credit she was due. He'd never appreciated her enough. He'd always suspected that was why she left, but he wasn't so sure.
"You know, you never told me what happened between you and Yao." He said,, steering the conversation in a new direction in a show of seemingly sudden curiosity. Mei seemed to buy it, a storm rolling across her face.
"He tried to trick me out." She said, her voice a low growl as her fist clenched on the table. Leon tried to be shocked, but he had no delusions about his boss. It was one of the reasons he was plotting to kill him. Business was business, and he would be the first to tell anyone that. People would find ways to make money until money disappeared, and on your back had always been an easy, lucrative, popular way to do it. There were more than enough women willing to work, wasting a top asset like that was ludicrous.
"Said he owed some senator, did him a favor." She spat, her nails digging into her palm. "And the way he said it, like it was a given that I would do that for him!" She pounded her fist on the table and Leon grabbed her hand quickly, looking around to see how many people had turned to look at them.
"I told him to go to hell. He backhanded me. I left, found Honda, sold enough intel to keep my head and get a new job, and I never looked back." She finished with false nonchalance, clutching his hand in an iron grip as steel glinted in her hard brown eyes.
"He'll pay for this, Mei. Our plan is almost complete." Leon assured her, squeezing her hand with the one she wasn't currently near breaking. "I'll even let you do it, if you need to." He offered.
"Just make sure I get to see the body." She said, rising from the table. "I need to see the bastard dead with my own eyes." Leon nodded.
"That, I can do. Have a good day, Mei." He said, nodding respectfully. She nodded back and left without a word. The bustle and chatter of the coffee shop flooded back into the bubble Mei's presence had cast around the table as Leon leaned back in his seat. The shadow of guilt crept up on him again and he banished it. No one had ever reached the top with no regrets.
His phone vibrated in his pocket and he quickly dug it out. The number was from a burner phone he had given Chen.
"Talk to me." He said, tossing his coffee in the trash as he strolled out of the shop. He still had a lot to do, after all. No rest for the wicked, indeed.
~*°•°*~
Grey concrete walls defined the tiny room that now made up Matthew's entire existence. The door was heavy black metal, and no windows provided a reminder that the room wasn't the only thing that was real. Time seemed immaterial, compressing and stretching out in irregular intervals. He didn't know how much time had actually passed, or what was happening to Alfred. It was maddening, the not knowing. But he was the adult, and he needed to keep it together for the little girl looking to him for some form of stability.
Natalia, to her credit, was being incredibly brave. She had been quiet, but calm for the most part. If looks could kill, the guard who had brought them their last meal would be cold and stiff by now, but the blow she took to the head seemed to have tempered her somewhat. The only sign she ever gave that she was upset was when she would curl up in the corner and try her best to hide that she was crying.
She was doing it now, curled up in the corner where she had pretended to fall asleep, trembling lightly and letting out shaky little hitches of breath. Matt's heart broke for her, and he wondered if maybe just letting her cry alone in the corner hadn't been the kindest course of action.
"Natalia?" He asked gently, placing a hand on her tiny, shaking shoulder. "You don't have to pretend to not be scared." He assured her, hoping he sounded comforting and warm and not as awkward as he felt. He'd never had to comfort a small child as the youngest of four with no nieces or nephews. "It's ok to cry, you don't have to hide it from me." Natalia looked up at him with watery eyes and shook her head, launching herself into his chest with a sob.
"I'm not scared! I'm not!" She insisted, balling her fists up in his shirt and burying her face in his chest. He patted her back, wishing he was better at this. If it was Al here, he'd know what to do.
"Well, that makes one of us." He said, letting out a short puff of laughter. "I'm terrified." She looked up at him, shocked.
"You're scared?" She asked. "But you're a grown up! Grown ups are never scared, except Katya." She amended. Mat laughed and brushed a strand of hair back behind her ear.
"Who told you that?" He asked. "Grown ups get scared all the time. I don't know where my brother is, or if he's okay. I don't know how we're going to get out of here yet, and not knowing scares me. I don't know if they have any other hostages, or where they'd be keeping them. I'm really scared, Natalia." He told her, sincere.
"Then how are you staying so calm?" She asked. That was the million dollar question, wasn't it? One he had no answer to because his calm was a lie, but he couldn't tell her that.
"Well, I trust my brother, for one. And yours, too. I know they'll find a way to get us out of here. We just have to be smart and keep our heads down. We have to wait for an opportunity and not do anything rash. Part of that is staying calm." He told her. Taking the edge of his jacket, he gently wiped away Natalia's tears.
"But it's okay to be scared, too. And it's okay to cry. Because there are two of us. So while you cry, I can keep lookout." He assured her, giving her what he hoped was his kindest smile. It seemed to work, because she smiled back a little, wiping at her eyes.
"And if you need to cry, I can watch." She said, determined. Matt forced down an amused chuckle and gave her a hug. There was no way he was going to break down in front of her, but it was cute that she had offered.
"Exactly. We're in this together." He said, holding out his little finger. She grinned and hooked her own little finger his. "Pinky promise."
"Pinky promise." She chorused. Wiping her eyes, Natasha crawled out of his lap and sat on her knees. The slightly childish gesture had seemed to raise her spirits some,. Her face was still red and blotchy from crying, but there was a small smile on her face now.
"Do you think you could tell me a story?" She asked. "I really am tired now, and usually Vanya tells me a bedtime story." The look on her face was so tenuously hopeful that he couldn't have said no if he wanted to.
"Okay, what kind of stories do you like?" He asked, settling down more comfortably himself.
"I like stories about adventures, and killing monsters, and princesses." She said, mimicking swinging a sword around. Matt chuckled and wracked his brain for an idea.
"Okay, I've got it. Lay down." He told her, covering her with his coat. "Bedtime stories don't work unless you're laying down, everyone knows that." Natalia nodded quickly, obviously eager to get to the story.
"Once upon a time, there was a brave little Princess whose brother, the King, was a mighty warrior. His battle prowess was known throughout all the world, and no one dare oppose them for fear of his might." He started. "But there was one who had no fear of the King's might. An evil Sorcerer who was jealous of the King's power had cooked up an evil scheme to make his kingdom his own." He paused for a second before continuing, having a bit of difficulty laying out the story on the fly.
"You see, he planned on kidnapping the little Princess, who the King loved dearly, and holding her for ransom. In exchange for her life, the King would surrender himself to be executed. If he refused, the Princess would die." Natalia gasped, pulling the coat a little tighter around her.
"But what the Sorcerer didn't know was that the Princess had trained with her brother from the time she could walk, and was a warrior in her own right despite her age. When the Sorcerer's men came to grab her in the middle of the night, she hid a sword in her skirts and allowed herself to be captured, knowing the Sorcerer would underestimate her." A grin spread across Natalia's face.
"She's going to kick his butt!" She giggled. Matt laughed.
"Let me finish the story." He admonished her. Natalia giggled and nodded, miming zipping her mouth shut.
"The Sorcerer informed the King that he had the Princess, and the King despaired, for he loved his sister very much."
"What's despaired?" Natalia asked, cutting him off.
"It means he was really, really sad." Matt told her. Natalia nodded and motioned for him to continue.
"The King agreed to the Sorcerer's terms, and agreed to turn himself in to be executed at dawn. But he had underestimated his sister. While the Sorcerer was negotiating with the King, the Princess had tricked a guard into unlocking her cell by pretending to be sick, then defeated him with the sword she had hidden in her skirt. She climbed all the way to the top of the tower, fighting the Sorcerer's men the whole time, until she reached the Sorcerer's lair. Inside she found the crystal ball that granted him all of his power. She smashed it on the ground, releasing the magic inside."
"What happened to the Sorcerer?" Natalia asked, eyes wide.
"He knew immediately what had happened, and he screamed and cried, knowing he was done. The King, figuring that someone had destroyed his powers, took out his sword and chopped off his head, knowing it must have been his brave, noble little sister. When he went to the tower, sure enough, the Princess was there tying up the remaining soldiers for arrest. He declared her his Champion from that day forward, which meant she was a knight, and the best in the realm. And she fought and won many, many battles. And they all lived happily ever after."
He looked to Natalia to ask her if she had enjoyed the story only to find her eyes closed and her breathing deep and even. He smiled and adjusted his coat over her. "Sweet dreams, Princess." He murmured, leaning back against the wall and wondering how the hell he was supposed to protect the little girl sleeping next to him when he couldn't even figure out how to save himself.
~*°•°*~
Emily hummed tunelessly to herself as she pulled the plug out and washed the remaining suds down the drain with the dish water. She'd just finished up a nice, quiet lunch with Francis and had the flat to herself for the rest of the evening. She planned to kick back with a glass of wine and proof the final edit of her latest novel, something she had been putting off for far too long.
The phone rang just as she was drying her hands, Arthur's name flashing across the screen. She quickly finished and grabbed the phone, wondering what her son could want in the middle of the day when he should be busy at work. A strange nervousness fell over her, and her first thought was of Alfred off somewhere in the aether. "Hello, darling. Are you ok?" She asked, brushing aside her worry.
"I'm well, mum. Have you seen Matt? He was supposed to bring me my electric kettle back last night and he never showed up." He asked. It sounded at first like a casual inquiry, but Arthur was her son. She could hear the slight strain in his voice, and she knew how his mind worked. Police were paranoid over thinkers, and Arthur even more so.
Worrying her lip between her teeth, Emily tried again to push down that sliver of worry.. "No, I haven't seen him. Why don't you call Francis? He just left here." She suggested, telling herself that it hadn't even been one full day, and not bringing a kettle by wasn't a sign of anything.
"I called him already. He hasn't seen him since yesterday afternoon. He also didn't show up for class, or for work. And Dad went by his flat and he wasn't there." Arthur said, the edge in his voice growing. Emily gripped the phone tight, her gut instincts screaming at her that Matt was in danger.
"I'll make a few calls and get back to you, love." She told him, putting a smile on and hoping it smoothed out the tension in her own voice. "I'm sure he'll turn up." They exchanged goodbyes and Emily hung up the phone, setting it on the counter with a soft click.
Had she done this?
It seemed paranoid, verging on delusional, to even think. But she couldn't shake the feeling that this was her fault. All those years ago, she thought she had made a mistake sending Stephanie away. For years, Matt's whole life, she had carried that mistake in her heart, letting it weigh her down. When she had tracked Stephanie down and given her Matt's number, it had felt like that weight had lifted.
The weight settled back down on her chest as she realized her only mistake was undoing what she had done. She tried to tell herself that she was being ridiculous, that she had no evidence Stephanie had anything to do with this. There was no evidence there even was a 'this'.
She snatched her phone off of the counter and dialed Matt's number, needing something to dissuade her before she jumped in again and made the situation worse. But the phone rang. And rang. And rang. She grit her teeth and left him a voicemail, hanging up and tossing the phone back on the counter with a frustrated huff. She was just being paranoid.
But what if?
She still remembered the day Stephanie left in vivid detail. She had just finished her third novel, and had taken a working vacation to see Sam and the boys while she was in the city promoting the book and doing a few signings. Matthew had been maybe a year old then, and Emily and Arthur hadn't gotten to meet him yet. Arthur had been so excited to meet his new baby brother, but thankfully jet lag had kept him at the hotel that day.
She had just meant to pop in for a moment between her plane landing and her first signing. It was supposed to be a short visit to give Stephanie some respite. She knew how exhausting being home alone all day with a baby could be, and she genuinely liked Stephanie back then. Patience's loss had hit Sam hard, and she was happy he was happy again.
No one had answered her knock, though she could hear the TV from inside. She tried again, but there was still no answer. Turning to leave, though, she had heard Matthew give out a wail. Worried that something had happened and Stephanie or one of the boys was hurt, Emily had tried the door and found it unlocked. What she had found inside still haunted her.
Stephanie sat on the couch with a glass pipe in her hand, holding it over the flame of a lighter as she watched the smoke curling inside of it intently. Alfred's tiny, grubby hands reached for a sandwich baggy full of crystal shards lying on the low coffee table. From his place perched precariously on the couch, Matthew wailed futilely for his mother's attention.
The world ground to a halt for a second as she processed what she was seeing. Then, in a flash, Emily snatched Alfred away from the meth on the table and turned on Stephanie, the deep fear that had frozen her turning into anger. "What the bloody fuck do you think you're doing!?" She screeched.
"Emily?" Stephanie asked, her jaw working like she was trying to stretch out her muscles, but she couldn't seem to stop. Emily had clutched Alfred to her, chest heaving and pulse racing. All she could see in that moment was his cold, dead little body. And Stephanie, still sitting on the couch getting high.
"Get out." She had rasped, eyes glassy and wild. Stephanie had opened her mouth to say something and some part of Emily had snapped. All she remembered was black at the edges of her vision as she screamed at her again to get out. She remembered later that she had tossed $500 in her face and told her if she ever came back, she would kill her.
She'd sat there with the boys until Sam came home, cancelling her book signing. A friend dropped Arthur off when he woke up, and she made excuses for Stephanie and let her son play with his brothers for a while while she desperately tried to think of something to tell Sam. Ultimately, she decided on a compromise. Tell Sam the truth, lie to the boys.
It had worked. Alfred forgot all about the drugs as far as any of them could tell, and Matthew grew up entirely unaware of the woman his mother really was. Until Emily had let yer misplaced guilt get in the way and ruin everything. And now he was missing, and she had no clue if Stephanie had any involvement.
If she didn't find out, it would drive her up the wall. Not knowing if she had sealed Matt's fate would eat her away from the inside, especially if anything happened to him. And if Stephanie was involved, she might have information that would help Arthur find him. Making up her mind, Emily grabbed her keys and her phone and rushed over to the dilapidated house she had found her in.
It took a few moments for Stephanie to open the door. When she finally did, Alarm bells began going off in Emily's head. Her dirty face was tear-streaked, and her eyes were glassy and wide like she was high again. Something had upset her, and Emily had a sinking feeling she knew what.
"Emily?" She asked, obviously confused, her eyes darting around like she expected someone to be with her. "What are you doing here?"
"Maybe we should do this inside." She said tersely, brushing brusquely past the woman into the house. She had no interest in making a scene on the front lawn, and she had no idea how messy things would have to get.
"Matthew's missing." She said as Stephanie closed the door, turning to look at her with hard eyes. Stephanie's gaze slid from her face and she turned around to avoid looking at Emily. A guilty conscience was no good sign. Emily clenched her jaw and narrowed her eyes, watching her as she crossed the room towards the kitchen. She stopped abruptly on the threshold with a wince, seeming to think better of leaving the living room.
"I never called him. I never had any intention to. I don't know that kid, and I never wanted to be a mother." She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest and still refusing to look Emily in the eye. "I never asked you to give me his number, and its not my problem you felt guilty for driving me out, you self-important snob." She sneered, finally turning around to face Emily with a look of contempt.
Emily snarled and grabbed the other woman by the front of her shirt, forcing her back until she had her pressed bodily against the wall. "Do you know what happens to a toddler when they eat a whole bag of meth, Stephanie? Because if I hadn't come in when I did, you would know first hand." She told her, her voice a deep growl. Stephanie stared at her with frightened eyes, her pupils blown and hyperfocused. "You would know exactly which shade of blue Alfred's little face would have turned when he died." Her own voice hitched as she said it, still unable to bear the thought. "So if getting you as far away from him and Matthew as possible to protect them makes me a snob, so be it!"
"I don't know anything about Matt!" She insisted, ignoring the truth she was unable to handle. She struggled against Emily, but she was coming down off of a bender and hadn't slept in days. Her strength failed her, and she flailed uselessly against the other woman.
"You're lying!" Emily snarled, slamming her head back against the wall. It gave Emily a small, dangerous thrill. Like she was in an action movie, shaking down a criminal for information. The revenge felt sweet, too. Years of Matt's life spent crying over her when she didn't deserve it, the broken look on Sam's face when he got home, Emily's own lingering guilt...it felt nice to pay her back for it all.
"I'm not, I swear!" Stephanie said, starting to sob. Emily didn't let up, slamming her head into the wall a few more times for good measure. She was probably going too far now, but it just felt so good. The solid thunk of her head against the wall was satisfying in a way few other things were.
"Where is he?" She asked again, voice low and deadly.
"I don't know!" She insisted. "I don't know where they took him, I swear!" She sobbed, trying to wriggle free of Emily's grip. "They just told me to get him over here. I get him over here, and they take care of it. I didn't...I don't know where they are, I swear!" She was crying openly now, going slack in Emily's grip and shaking her head like it was a bad dream she could make go away.
"Who?" Emily asked. "And don't you dare lie to me."
"The Red Dragons! They wanted him, I don't know why. Please, just don't hurt me!" She begged, her terrified sobs setting Emily's teeth on edge. She let her go and backed up. For a moment, she felt guilty. She had always told the boys violence wasn't always the answer. But, she reminded herself, sometimes it was. And it seemed to have worked well enough this time.
"If they hurt him, Stephanie, I will kill you. And don't delude yourself into thinking Sam and the boys wouldn't help me hide you." She told her, eerily calm. She realized in that moment that she wasn't lying. Stephanie had her one second chance. It was war, now.
"Oh, and one more thing." She said, stalking up to her. She smiled dangerously and cocked her fist back, slamming it into Stephanie's cheek.
"He was never your son." She said, staring down at where she had knocked the other woman to the floor. Stephanie looked up at her with bugged out eyes full of tears, fear etched into every line of her face. That small thrill went through her again, and she couldn't help but smirk despite the pain in her knuckles.
"He's always been mine." She turned and stalked out the door, leaving Stephanie sobbing on the ground clutching her face. She hurried to her car before the adrenaline could wear off and the regret could seep back in. Her hands were still shaking as she called her son.
"Arthur?" She asked as he picked up the phone, starting the car and pealing out of the driveway. "I have some information on Matthew. Yes, I can swing by the precinct. I'll be right there." She hung up the phone and tossed it into the passenger seat, carding a hand through her hair as she took off in the direction of the station.
~*°•°*~
The bedroom door clicked shut as Alfred closed it carefully behind him. He had shut down outside of the warehouse, closing off the panic and falling into a dazed stupor that shattered the second the door was closed. He leaned heavily against it, sinking down and hugging his knees to his chest. He felt like he was swimming through mud, his limbs heavy and hard to move, his thoughts sluggish. It all still felt like a bad, bad dream.
But when he woke up tomorrow morning, Leon would still have Matt and Natasha. That was no dream. His baby brother...what had he done? How in the hell was he supposed to fix this? If they went through with this, there was no going back. If they didn't, Matt and Natasha were dead.
"What are we gonna do?" He asked, his voice shaking and thick with emotion. Ivan pressed his lips together, not certain how to answer that question. He had a plan, one he had known he would carry out the second Alfred fell to his knees outside of the warehouse. But he knew Alfred would argue and he wasn't sure if he should tell him.
Looking at Alfred, his eyes wet and wide with panic, he made his decision. He sighed and sat down next to him, pulling him gently so his head rested on Ivan's shoulder. Running a comforting hand up and down Alfred's arm like he would often do for his sisters when they were upset, he looked to the heavens for guidance.
"It's going to be okay, Alfred." Ivan told him, laying his head on Alfred's soft hair "I'll take care of it." Alfred pulled away and looking at him, searching his face for a moment with a deep frown.
"Ivan, what are you planning?" He asked, concern etched on every line of his face. Ivan just shrugged, looking away. Alfred didn't back down, grabbing Ivan's chin and forcing him to meet his eyes "What are you going to do?" He asked again, more firmly.
"I'm going to kill Kiku Honda, get our siblings back, leave a signed statement and a recording stating that you told me not to take the deal and did no killing, and then I'm going to run. I'll go back to Russia and lay low. I know people there, people who will hide me or look the other way." He told him defiantly, daring him to object.
"Ivan, no! What if you get caught leaving? What about your sisters?" He asked, grabbing Ivan's arm hard enough to bruise, trying subconsciously to hold him in place.
"You're going to take care of them for me." He said, trying to smile through the ache in his chest. "Natasha has dual citizenship, so Katya should be allowed to stay as her guardian. Help her get a job, even if it's just cooking for your tasteless brother, or cleaning your pig sty of an apartment." He teased, trying to get a laugh.
It hadn't had the intended effect. Tears were now streaming down Alfred's face as he took on big gulps of air, nodding and shaking his head in turns as he tried to find his voice again. He wiped his eyes and took a deep breath, finally managing to control himself.
"Of course! You didn't even have to ask." He told him, hiding his face in Ivan's shoulder. "I'd never let them deport her, Ivan. You know that." Ivan grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers together. He held onto it like a lifeline, desperate for something to tether him down in this chaos. Ivan's hand was warm and rough, a strong anchor.
"I know." He soothed quietly, burying his nose in Alfred's hair. He smelled like cypress and cedar wood, and the scent calmed him. He had always wanted to ask Alfred which shampoo he used. He had never stopped to consider why he liked it so much before, that it might just he because he wanted Alfred close.. He had been so blind, so stubborn. And now it was really too late, he had missed his last chance to do anything about that confusing need for closeness. All he could do was make the most of the end.
"I have something else I wanted to say." Ivan began, pulling hack and carding his fingers through his hair nervously.
"What is it?" Alfred asked, his heart giving a strange little thump in his chest he didn't know how to interpret.
"You...thank you." Ivan began, worrying his lip. "You've been a better partner than I've ever given you credit for. You're strong, you're smart, you're observant, and funny, and you're a good cop." He stopped, searching for the words to express himself and coming up short in every language he knew.
"Ivan, this sounds a lot like goodbye." Alfred said, clutching the front of his shirt like he could keep him there through sheer force of will.
"Isn't it?" Ivan said, chuckling sardonically and shaking his head in sadness and resignation. "Just let me finish."
"Maybe I don't want you to finish." Alfred said stubbornly, grabbing him by his collar and pulling him into a harsh, bruising kiss.
Ivan didn't even think about pulling away this time, tangling his fingers in Alfred's hair and taking control of the kiss to prove it. It turned from a thing of harsh desperation to something slower and sweeter. Lingering for a moment after ending the kiss, he gazed into Alfred's eyes. He'd never quite noticed before exactly how blue they were, like a summer sky or a clear lake.
"Let me say goodbye the right way, then." He whispered, pressing their lips together in a short, chaste kiss. "I don't know what to say, anyway." He huffed softly. 6 languages and no words, how ironic.
Alfred pulled away, shaking his head. "I don't think I can do this again." He told him, pushing up his glasses and pressing his hands to his eyes. "Last time, I thought...and then..." He shook his head again. "Everything's so confusing right now. I don't need you pulling another 180 on me."
Ivan took Alfred's wrists and gently coaxed him into lowering his hands so he could hold them in his own. "It was confusing before because I was confused." He admitted, tracing his thumbs over Alfred's knuckles. "I'm not confused anymore. And if I'm going to die tomorrow, I'm not going to die lying to myself."
"So it's about you and your weird closet thing?" Alfred accused. "And what am I in all of this?" He asked. Ivan thought maybe he was trying to pick a fight because he was scared.
"You're my truth." He said plainly, kissing Alfred again. It was as simple and sweet as the last ones, melting like sugar on Alfred's tongue. He was starting to find it difficult to resist, and he questioned why he even wanted to. He was the one who had cornered Ivan into coming out in the first place, wasn't he?
"That," he said breathlessly, looking up into Ivan's eyes, "Was the lamest thing I've ever heard." He shook his head in disbelief. "I mean, seriously? I get that English is your second language, but did you really think that cheesy ass line would play well?" He asked, incredulous. "I take back what I said about you needing to watch more movies. You clearly-" Ivan cut him off with another kiss, chuckling.
"Shut up, Alik." He purred, kissing down his partner's jaw to his throat. Alfred gasped slightly and let the words die in his throat, tilting his head to allow Ivan more access. "I don't think you need to be plied with smooth lines and candlelight, hm?" He teased, doing something with his tongue that made Alfred gasp.
"If we survive this, you better fucking believe I'm getting smooth lines and candlelight, just because you said that." Alfred told him, pushing him sternly away from his neck and pouting.
"If we survive this, I will give you smooth lines and candlelight every day for a month." Ivan promised, nuzzling into the crook of Alfred's neck to coax him into giving him access again. But Alfred froze, pushing Ivan back so he could study his face seriously.
"Don't make promises you can't keep, Braginsky." He said, face grave and stern. "If this is one time, tell me now. I'd rather die knowing it was a scared comfort fuck than live and find out the hard way."
Ivan shook his head and drew Alfred close, pressing their foreheads together. "I don't want to fuck you." He told him, smiling gently. "I want to make love to you "
Alfred hit him with a deadpan, unamused look. "Honestly, I'd do anything at this point to get you to stop using those lame, awful lines." Ivan laughed and kissed him again.
"Ah, ah, ah. You already said you wanted smooth lines." He reminded him playfully.
"Yeah. Smooth lines. Not...whatever it is you think you're saying." Alfred snorted he realized in that moment that Ivan had, with his lame moves and corny lines, somehow managed to make him forget all about the situation they were in and the danger all around them.
"Maybe you'll have to teach me, then." Ivan said, hooking a finger under his chin and tilting his head up so he was staring directly into mesmerizing purple eyes.
"Damnit." Alfred cursed softly, his heart giving a small flutter in his chest.
"What?" Ivan asked, confused.
"Forget the lines, that was way sexier." He laughed, winding his arms around Ivan's shoulders and kissing him again. "Alright, you convinced me." He said with a long, over-exaggerated sigh.
"Convinced you of what?" Ivan asked, running a hand up and down Alfred's back, a teasing smirk on his face.
"To run away to cloud cuckooland with you. What did you think I meant?" Alfred said sarcastically.
"That you would let me make love to you." Ivan said earnestly, running the pad of his thumb over Alfred's jaw. Alfred melted in an instant, all the sarcastic humor he had been using to keep Ivan at bay crashing down around him.
"Okay." He said, looking away to avoid the intensity in Ivan's eyes. Ivan gently turned his head so they were face to face again.
"Okay." agreed Ivan, pulling Alfred into a kiss that was as slow as the ones before it but sensual where those had been sweet, open-mouthed where they had been close-lipped. Alfred felt a spark ignite in his gut, the slow burning fire that Ivan stoked with every brush of his tongue against Alfred's.
Ivan pulled away and Alfred chased his lips, not understanding why the space where Ivan had been was empty. Ivan chuckled and got up, holding out a hand to drag Alfred with him. He led him to the bed, gently urging him to sit. He knelt between his legs, reaching up to cup Alfred's face.
"I never told you last time." He said, staring at Alfred almost reverently as he brushed a thumb across his bottom lip.
"Told me what?" Alfred asked, his face and chest warm as his heart beat a staccato rhythm against his chest.
"How beautiful you are." Ivan murmured, pulling him into a kiss that curled Alfred's toes and sent licks of flame crawling through his limbs. He moaned against Ivan's lips, tangling his fingers in his hair.
Alfred was the one to break the kiss this time, dizzy with lack of air and abundance of stimulation. He stared at Ivan with dark, hazy eyes, licking kiss swollen lips as he caught his breath. Wordlessly, he pulled Ivan up from between his knees to stand. His partner stared down at him with that strange intensity that shot through him like a laser, burning him. He felt open and vulnerable under that gaze, and he looked away in discomfort.
He glanced back up at him for a moment as he reached for the button of his pants, asking permission. Ivan granted it with a light hand on his hair and a glint in his eyes that made Alfred shiver with anticipation.
He popped the button and drew Ivan's zipper down, taking a shaky breath as he reached inside and pulled Ivan's dick out of its confines. He had been so eager to get him into bed last time that he hadn't really stopped to appreciate just how damn big Ivan was. He stroked him a few times, feeling him grow beneath his hand.
Alfred glanced up at Ivan and almost immediately regretted it, the heat in his eyes scorching Alfred down to his bones. Ivan looked at him like he had whole galaxies in his eyes and it scared him, to be seen like that. He felt like an open book that Ivan had been dying to read, finally taken down off of the shelf. It was awesome in the biblical sense, terrifying and exciting at the same time.
He placed a kiss on the head of Ivan's cock, taking it in and suckling softly. Ivan groaned and carded his fingers through Alfred's hair. Emboldened, he took more of him in, closing his eyes as he relaxed his throat. He took what he couldn't swallow in his hand, stroking and massaging the flesh. Ivan was too big to take everything, and Alfred was struggling with whatbhe already had.
Ivan couldn't take his eyes off the beautiful sight beneath him. Alfred's mouth was hot and wet, his lips cherry red and kiss swollen around his cock. He watched as the head of his cock slipped in and out between those pretty red lips, his grip on Alfred's hair tightening.
He pulled him off as soon as he was fully hard, knowing it would only get harder to resist cumming on his beautiful face. The thought of his cum splashing across his lightly freckled cheeks and those plump, red lips made him shudder. He shelved the idea for later and swooped down to kiss Alfred, tasting himself on his tongue.
"Why did we stop?" Alfred asked when he pulled back, meeting his eyes. A deep chuckle rumbled in Ivan's chest as his partner blushed and looked away again. Something had made him shy all of a sudden, and Ivan couldn't bring himself to complain.
"Lay back." He said in answer, pulling off his coat and shirt and kicking off his pants. Alfred started to follow suit, but Ivan stopped him. A questioning look, an answering smirk, and Alfred laid back like he had been told.
Ivan stood over him, eyes roving over every inch of the beautiful figure laid out before him. He knelt on the bed between Alfred's legs, leering at him from above. He placed his hands on Alfred's knees, smoothing his palms down Alfred's thighs and up under his shirt. He jumped slightly as Ivan's cold hands came into contact with the sensitive skin of his stomach, but stilled. The shyness was gone now, or hidden under the expectant curiosity he was now gazing openly at Ivan with.
"We should have done this sooner." He said, murmuring to himself.
"We did, remember? It wasn't that long ago." Alfred said, snorting and rolling his eyes. Ivan chuckled and shook his head, tweaking one of Alfred's nipples.
"No," He corrected him, leaning over Alfred and tracing feather-light fingers over his ribs. "That was something very different." Alfred gazed up at him, purple flooding his senses as he finally understood why Ivan had been looking at him like that. There were whole galaxies swimming in Ivan's eyes, too.
"Yeah." He said, breathless and awed by the feeling in the air he couldn't put a name to. "It was."
He leaned up on his elbows, tangling his fingers in the hair at the back of Ivan's head and pulled him down into a searing kiss. Electricity zapped through him, the gasp from the shock opening his mouth to Ivan's exploring tongue once more.
Alfred felt a tug on his shirt and he pulled away, letting Ivan pull it over his head. Chest to chest, they came back together, lips locked and tongues dancing. Ivan's hands slipped down the back of Alfred's pants, palming his bare flesh. His head rolled back as he arched into Ivan, and his partner swooped into the opening he had left, kissing and biting his way down his throat.
Feeling Alfred against him, bare flesh finally meeting hare flesh, had blasted away the last remnants of Ivan's patience. Pushing Alfred back down onto the bed, he made quick work of his pants. Between Alfred's long, lithe legs, looking down at his gorgeous body, Ivan had to concentrate very, very hard on not burying himself immediately inside of him.
"Do we have anything?" He asked, stroking his cock to relieve a little bit of the buildings tension. Rolling over, Alfred rummaged through the nightstand and grabbed a bottle of lube. He popped the cap and put out his hand, but Ivan snatched it with a smirk.
"I believe that's my job." He said, squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers and rubbing it between them to warm it. "Spread your legs." He said, tracing the crack of his ass with his middle finger. Alfred obeyed, spreading wide to give Ivan room to work.
The first finger went in easily enough, to no surprise. A tiny hitch of breath was the only sign Alfred gave that he even felt it, a deep flush settling across his cheeks. Ivan watched his face for those little tics and expressions as he pumped the finger in and out of him. A beautiful symphony of pleasure played across his face as Ivan slipped another finger in and hooked them up to catch his prostate. It was mesmerizing, drawing Ivan in and locking his gaze in place.
"More!" Alfred gasped, bucking his hips onto his fingers. Groaning, Ivan wondered what he had done to deserve this. He started to stretch Alfred out, scissoring his fingers as he worked them in and out of him. When he was ready, a third finger joined the others. Alfred gasped, this time in slight discomfort.
"Are you okay?" Ivan asked, stopping. Alfred nodded emphatically and pushed down onto his fingers again.
"Don't stop!" He demanded, working his hips on Ivan's hand. Ivan let him go for a moment, too caught up in the sight of Alfred fucking himself on his fingers to stop him. Snapping out of it, he put a firm hand on Alfred's hip. A dismayed whimper was his reward as alfred tried to get more friction despite the obstacle.
"You're doing my job again." He said, pressing his fingers up into him and rubbing his prostate directly. Alfred arched sharply off of the bed with a cry, eyes squeezing shut as Ivan pleasured him. "Maybe you need to be reminded why it's my job." he said. Licking his lips, Ivan pressed harder and watched as Alfred's whole body jerked. He stimulated that spot relentlessly, hungrily devouring the sight of Alfred's ecstasy with his eyes.
"Please!" Alfred begged, panting like he had just run a mile. "Stop, I'm gonna cum." Ivan felt his balls constrict at the mental image of Alfred coming just from being fingered. He took a deep breath to steady himself, pulling his fingers out of Alfred. He gave them both a minute to calm down before grabbing the lube and spreading a good amount on his painfully hard cock.
He couldn't remember ever wanting it this badly. The sheer force of his arousal threatened to drown him as he lined the head up with Alfred's hole and pushed in slowly. No woman had ever made his head spin like this, or made him lose control like this gorgeous, dedicated, intelligent, funny, amazing man beneath him.
Alfred dug his fingers into the sheets and squeezed Ivan's waist between his thighs as he felt the delicious, burning stretch of Ivan entering him. He looked up at him through the haze of pleasure and smiled, bringing him down into another kiss. They took it slowly, mapping each other's mouths carefully as Ivan gave gentle, languid thrusts to open Alfred up.
He gasped as the head of his cock brushed his prostate, throwing his head back and tangling his fingers in Ivan's hair. Ivan didn't waver from his gentle, testing pace even as he held Alfred's hips in a bruising grip. Every so often, Ivan would brush against that bundle of nerves, setting him on fire, but his thrusts stayed long and slow.
"Faster!" He demanded, attempting to pull Ivan inward with his legs. Ivan laced their fingers together and kissed his knuckles, giving a firmer thrust that buried him to the hilt. Alfred groaned and squeezed his hand, head falling back against the pillow.
The pace picked up, building momentum as the desire for each other outpaced the desire to be careful. A chorus of moans and gasps spilled from Alfred, and Ivan had to bury his face in Alfred's neck. The sights and the sounds and the sensations were all too much to take together. His breathing grew ragged, his thrusts wild and powerful. He wanted to bury himself so far deep inside of Alfred that they merged, and the thought scared him.
"I'm gonna cum." Alfred warned him, breathless and husky. He licked the shell of Ivan's ear, nails pressing crescent moon shaped divets in the skin of his back. "I wanna make you cum first." He admitted, squeezing himself around Ivan. His partner's deep, desperate groan rumbled against Alfred's neck and he shivered, holding back a small whimper. "Cum inside of me, Ivan. " He coaxed. "Fill me up."
Ivan's mind blanked out as he grabbed Alfred's cock and started jerking it, driving two more bone-jarring thrusts into Alfred. The edges of his vision went dim as he fired spurt after spurt into him in the kost intest orgasm of his adult life. Driving himself deeper still, he held Alfred's hips firmly against his own as he filled him, grinning fiercely as some leaked out around him. Alfred cried out his name and came undone, jerking and twitching as he came all over Ivan's hand.
They didn't part for a long moment, Ivan savoring the feeling of being inside of his new lover while Alfred enjoyed being filled. Finally, Ivan pulled out, Alfred gasping and biting his lip as his release came out after him.
"Doesn't that feel gross?" Ivan asked, frowning. He couldn't imagine letting another man cum in him. The idea of it leaking out afterwards...eugh.
"Fuck no." Alfred laughed. "It feels fucking amazing." He said, reaching down between his legs to push it back in. Ivan watched, slack jawed, and wondered if he was capable of getting hard again so soon. He pressed Alfred back down onto the bed again, kissing him breathless.
"Careful, tiger, you might just get what you want." Alfred purred, scratching lightly down his hack.
"As much as I would love to fill you up again, you little cumslut, I don't think either of us could deliver right now." He teased, flopping back down onto the bed and pulling Alfred partially on top of him. "It's been a long night, and we have something to do tomorrow. We should sleep." He said, pulling the covers over them and pressing a soft kiss to Alfred's forehead.
"Mmm, okay. But you owe me round two in the morning, you tease." Alfred said, voice already starting to slur as he began to drift off. Ivan smiled softly and kissed his forehead again, the warmth in his chest making him wonder what exactly this new thing between them would have been if it had been given a chance.
"As many rounds as you want." He promised, switching off the light and wrapping his arms around the sleeping man. Be buried his face in his hair, inhaling the scent of cedar and cypress and steeling himself to say goodbye.
