Impressions

Prompt: Family Dinner

Summary: Ivan is absolutely certain the dinner over at Alfred's house is a complete disaster.

~o~

Ivan wished he could disappear, which was easier said than done for a guy his stature. Even now, as Alfred was happily chattering away with his twin brother, he could feel all kinds of disapproving eyes upon his skin.

It was the very first time they were all eating dinner together, as a family. Ivan and Alfred had been dating for over a year now, but somehow they hadn't managed to get both families together in one room as of yet, until now at least.

All in all, things were going horribly.

Upon entering he had tripped over his feet and almost broken Matthew's favourite hockey stick by falling into a closet. He had also forgotten the bottle of wine he'd brought for Alfred's fathers in the car so he had to get back out to get it, door falling shut behind him so that he had to ring the bell again. For whatever reason, Katyusha was telling stories from when he was still a toddler (like the one time he had worn a tutu). Natalya was being her charming self, but Ivan wouldn't want to try and change her anyway. Francis kept making insinuations towards their sex life. And Arthur… he was absolutely certain Arthur would gladly strangle him, whether it be because he "wasn't good enough for his precious child", or because he found the Russian to be offensive in any way possible. Luckily there was Matthew- but then again, Matthew could still be a problem, seeing as he had accidentally walked in on them that one time…

Needless to say, Ivan was more than happy when he got the opportunity to escape to the balcony for a moment. He patted his pockets, before remembering he had stopped smoking a long time ago. God did he need it now though.

He stiffened when the door behind him slid open, relaxed when it was only Alfred.

"Hey. How you holding up?"

Ivan shook his head, sighing when the other wrapped his arms around him. "I am probably disowned by your parents by now."

"Really?" Alfred asked, quirking his eyebrows. "How so?"

"Can you not tell?" Ivan returned, exasperated. "They must hate me! Arthur keeps looking at me like I am the devil, and Francis-"

"Wow, you really think that means he hates you?" Alfred cut him off, laughing. "Don't worry about it babe, he hates everyone I dare bring home!"

"That is not very reassuring," Ivan grumbled, pursing his lips when Alfred leant up to prop his chin atop a shoulder.

"Nah, believe me. You wouldn't even be in the house if he really hated you. Actually, I think he likes you a lot! A lot more than my previous boyfriend, anyways."

Ivan wished he could stop Alfred from talking about past relations. Still, he needed to ask. "Really? How so?"

Alfred laughed softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Well, for one, he hasn't tried feeding you dessert yet."

And Alfred laughed as Ivan sourly pinched his nose. Still, he was in a slightly better mood when returning back inside… Only to feel that mood plummet when Arthur announced that he was baking cookies. He really prayed that Alfred had been exaggerating with his stories of Arthur's cooking.