Summary: A miscommunication over a picnic leads to a planetarium date. Stargazing.
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia.
Well, the household accounts had apparently been a bigger mess than Toris feared, so Alfred was still bringing lunch to the office a week later. He pushed open the heavy doors and made directly for the lunch tray.
It was untouched.
Alfred scowled. Braginsky had given Alfred so much shit for wasting food, and now he was the one skipping meals? What a fucking hypocrite. Alfred opened his mouth to give the asshole a mouthful, then noticed the wet shine on the cheeks of the figure hunched over a stack of paperwork.
Braginsky looked downright miserable.
The sight would have cheered Alfred up immensely, had there not been a half-empty bottle of vodka and an empty glass next to the tray.
Fuck, Braginsky had been drinking. Some shit must have gone down for him to start so early—he never drank before he finished work at five.
Alfred tilted his head slightly to read the report closest to him. A Manticore attack. A hundred men died before the beast was finally taken down.
Huh.
"Hey," Alfred muttered against his better judgment. "You okay, asshole?"
"Go away, Jones." Ivan's voice was muffled. He had buried his face into his scarf.
Ugh. Alfred remembered when Arthur got like this. Something would happen at work—a failed mission, too many casualties—that made Arthur go to the nearest pub and drown his sorrows in liquor. He used to get drunk off his ass, and Alfred had to be the one to drag him back to base. He slobbered all over Alfred, and after he forced a glass of water down Arthur's throat and tucked the older angel into bed, Alfred usually had to change his clothes because of all the tears and snot.
Arthur was a sad drunk. Braginsky looked sad right now, but every time Alfred had seen the demon drunk, he had been angry. Did Alfred really want to deal with a currently-sad-but-potentially-angry-later drunk who liked to fuck him dry and beat him up with a pipe?
Alfred seriously deliberated on the question for all of two seconds before he decided that the answer to the question was a resounding fuck no.
Spinning on his heels, Alfred left for the kitchens. He'd bug Toris, and Toris would probably give him what he wanted because Toris was a nice guy and also because Alfred was kind of saving Toris' ass here by being Braginsky's lunch bitch.
Toris owed him. Big time.
Ivan untangled himself from the scarf when the doors opened again and Alfred burst in, the handle of a picnic basket clutched in his fist.
"Get off your ass, bastard," the angel snarled. "You're coming with me."
In a few strides, Alfred was at the large executive desk, dragging the platinum blond up by his arm.
"Alfred, what—"
"Shut up."
Ivan closed his mouth, perplexed, as Alfred manhandled him down the stairs in the direction of the gardens.
Alfred let go once they were at the patch of sunflowers. He pulled out a blanket from the basket and spread it out on the grass.
"Sit down," the angel ordered as he started to unpack the contents of the basket. A covered container of pirozhki, a small tub of okroshka, and a thermos of chamomile tea. Alfred dropped a fork and a spoon next to the spread.
At a loss for words, Ivan obediently plopped down next to Alfred and reached for the food.
"…When I was really young, Arthur would take me secretly to the human world on what he called 'educational excursions,' but were really just an excuse for him to get alcohol that was prohibited in Heaven."
Surprised, Ivan scooted a little closer to hear better. Alfred didn't move away.
"One time, he lost me in a small prairie town in Nebraska while he was looking for absinthe. I don't think he found it, but when he found me, I was playing with a bison. Arthur was so scared, I thought he was gonna piss himself. He was afraid the bison was going to trample me, but then I started swinging it around by its front hooves. I was always pretty strong. Arthur fainted from the shock.
"Honestly, it was pretty funny, especially since Arthur has these eyebrows that look like caterpillars. They started twitching all over the place."
He used to tell Arthur lighthearted stories like that when Arthur was worn out from crying, before he fell asleep—of course, the stories back then had been about him and Mattie, but no fucking way in Tartarus was he gonna let Braginsky know about his twin brother. If that asshole didn't know Mattie existed, then he couldn't hurt him.
Alfred peeked at Ivan from the corner of his eye. The demon had a faint smile on his face.
What else…. Oh, the time that he saw Arthur petting his imaginary friends was kind of funny, albeit traumatizing.
"Arthur has a bunch of imaginary friends, he's always insisting that they exist but I think he's just got a few screws loose. There's a bunch of fairies, a unicorn, and this one that he calls the Flying Mint Bunny…"
The afternoon passed by in the sun, molasses-slow. Occasionally, the sound of soft laughter broke through the droning of bees and the rustle of sunflower heads brushing against one another.
Eyes blank, Alfred smiled down at Ivan from where he was riding the tall demon. He traced a line tenderly down Ivan's side with his fingers, then bent down and lapped at the underside of the demon's jaw.
Ivan moaned. Alfred was being so gentle, so sweet tonight… A look of rapture spread across the platinum blond's face as the angel kissed down his chest, pausing to lavish attention on a nipple.
Hm, Alfred hoped that this was working. Francis had yelled at him at the palace, once, pretty early on, when Alfred had apparently neglected to read "the atmosphere," whatever that was. One of the guards had just broken up with his long-term girlfriend; Francis told Alfred to comfort him.
Well, Alfred was just what he usually did when the guard had suddenly started crying, sobbing something incoherent about how much he missed her. Alfred had shrugged, swung his legs around, jerked the guy off, laughed a little while doing it—his dick was tiny—and started walking away.
The guard had curled up and cried harder. Francis came in right about then.
"Alfred, no," Francis had called after him, horrified. "What have you done to poor Jacques?"
Ah, good times. The blue-eyed angel silently sent a prayer to the gods to smite Jacques with bachelorhood and loneliness for the rest of his days. The guy had been an absolute pain in the ass.
Alfred rolled his hips, angling to get the cock inside him against his sweet spot, and Ivan choked out a gasp.
A few days later, there was a note on the nightstand.
Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Alfred snagged the piece of paper as he picked up his glasses.
"Meet me in the gardens at 6 tonight," the note read in Ivan's neat, curving script.
Alfred tossed the note back on the nightstand.
Weird.
He would go, in case the bastard threw a hissy fit. Or started drinking. Maybe Ivan wanted to fuck him under the sunflowers. Who even knew what was going on in Braginsky's head anymore. Not him, that's for sure—the guy was insane.
Ivan was studying something small and shiny in his hand when Alfred arrived; he put it in his pocket when he saw the angel.
Alfred raised an eyebrow.
"A precautionary measure," Ivan said. "In case you decide to run away while we are in the human world."
The blue-eyed blond gaped at him. "You're taking me to the human world?"
Ivan shrugged. "There is a planetarium show at eight. I have tickets."
Alfred must be hallucinating—there was no way in Tartarus this was real, but Ivan was talking again.
"—anyway, hold my hand."
"What? No."
Ivan nonchalantly reached for his pocket again. "I have a leash, if you'd prefer."
Alfred gripped Ivan's hand. It was dry and calloused. Emma would have shrieked and demanded some lotion, pronto.
They emerged from a portal at the back of a bakery. Instead of a light tunic with leggings, Alfred was wearing an open hoodie, pop art shirt, and skinny jeans with red high-tops. Ivan was dressed in a black peacoat, navy slacks, and boots. The tan scarf was wrapped around his neck.
No one was really certain how the transportation magic worked when it came to clothes, except that they changed to whatever wearer was thinking of at the moment. At least it was convenient, and the clothes always fit.
Alfred took an appreciative sniff—the air smelled like freshly baked bread and apple pie.
Ivan glanced at him as they walked out of the alley. "Hungry?"
"Yeah!"
Ivan hummed. "What do you want?"
Alfred's eyes lit up as he saw a flash of yellow down the street.
Ivan watched, disgusted, as Alfred shoved another Big Mac into his mouth. There was already a pile of wrappers in front of him.
"You are not even chewing, Alfred."
Alfred waved him away. "Yeah, yeah, whatever," he said, slurping at his third vanilla milkshake. "I haven't had anything but fruit in so"—gulp—"long."
He crumpled up the last wrapper and put the empty cup down, satisfied.
"Hey," Alfred perked up, seeing the unopened box on Ivan's tray. "You gonna eat that?"
Ivan sighed and slid the hamburger over. He had lost his appetite, seeing Alfred—it couldn't even be called eating—inhale the over-processed junk.
The needle of the compass spun wildly.
Ivan scowled. Francis had said that the compass would function as a tracker for Alfred's bracelets in the human world. It didn't work in the demon world, for some reason.
It was useless, though. The needle theoretically should have pointed to Alfred's location, but instead it had just turned Ivan around in a circle before glowing once and starting its erratic movement. Alfred should be here…
Ivan heard a meow from the entrance of an alley beside him.
"Aw, who's a good girl?"
Ivan relaxed and shoved the compass pack into his coat pocket. Inside the dark alley, Alfred had buried his hand wrist-deep into cat fur, and was whispering to the fluffy creature with an expression of utter infatuation on his face.
"Alfred."
"Yeah, just give me a second." The angel rubbed the cat one last time behind the ears and let her leave with a sigh of regret. He straightened up and saw Ivan's frown.
"What?"
"I told you to stick close to me."
Alfred rolled his eyes. "I got distracted. Calm down, would ya? There's still an hour before the show starts."
Ivan grunted and stretched out his hand. Alfred took it reluctantly.
Alfred wasn't budging, and Ivan pulled at him for the nth time with a growl of frustration. The brat was so easily distracted—this trip to the human world was looking like a worse idea by the minute. What silly thing had snatched up Alfred's attention now?
The demon glanced back. They were next to a video game store, and Alfred's gaze was lingering on one of the games on display.
Ivan took a closer look. There was a soldier holding handguns on the clamshell. Call of Duty: Black Ops.
"It looks so fun," Alfred whimpered, longing clear in his voice.
"Jones," Ivan kneaded at the bridge of his nose with one hand. "We are going to be late at this rate."
Alfred looked like a kicked puppy.
"Guns." The angel pawed at his master's arm pathetically. His enormous sapphires welled up.
Ivan's eye twitched. This was the ruthless general who had made a mockery of the Dark army?
"…Fine," he ground out. "But no more distractions after this."
"Yay!" Alfred cheered. The tears instantly vanished as he tugged Ivan through the glass doors of the store. "You also need to get a gaming console and other stuff. You only have that TV in your room. I don't know why you never turn it on, it's a nice flatscreen. Back in Heaven, I had the sickest gaming setup ever…"
Ivan set the plastic bag containing the PlayStation and game down at his feet.
Next to him, Alfred was squirming with excitement.
"Settle down, Alfred," Ivan patted the angel on the arm, chuckling. "The show will begin soon."
Alfred kicked his legs and threw himself back into the seat. "I can't help it," he said with a pout. "I've wanted to see one of these for decades. I can't believe I'm finally here—"
Alfred cut himself off with a gasp as intricate depictions of constellations appeared on the domed screen overhead.
"Cool." The golden blond was completely entranced.
Ivan tried, yet again, to focus on what the narrator was saying, but it was futile. At some point during the show, Alfred had absently leaned into the demon beside him. The warmth leaching from the angel was impossible to ignore.
The lenses of Alfred's glasses were streaked with the reflected pinks and purples of the Northern Lights projected above, and behind them, his eyes were shining and full.
Alfred appeared absolutely spellbound. His rose lips were curved into a beatific smile.
Gods, Ivan wanted to kiss those soft lips. But Alfred would shy away. He was sure of it.
He swallowed. Would Alfred mind…? He carefully slid an arm behind Alfred's shoulder.
The angel didn't so much as twitch.
When the show ended, Alfred blinked once before he noticed how close Ivan was. The amethyst gaze, that small smile, when had Braginsky's arm gotten behind him—Alfred immediately recoiled.
Ivan had looked at him like how Alfred had felt when he saw Call of Duty, and that was not okay.
The walk back to the portal was quiet.
Ivan was in front and Alfred was a few feet behind, fingertips clasped in the demon's iron grip.
The demon veered.
"Wha-?" Alfred started. Ivan didn't respond.
They stopped at the top of a grassy hill.
"You said that you liked stargazing, did you not?"
Alfred wordlessly sat down on the ground. He reclined back in the grass. Ivan lay down next to him.
The night sky was an expanse of shimmering velvet above them.
"Oh, it's so clear tonight," Alfred sighed happily. He raised up a hand. "There's Orion's Belt! You can see the three stars," he said, running his finger down in a diagonal motion. "Alnilam, Alnitak and Mintaka. You can see the Orion Nebula, just below them. It's in Orion's Sword—it's the one that looks like the fuzzy star.
"The Orion Nebula is part of the Orion Molecular Cloud Complex. Well, a lot of the Orion constellation is in the Orion Complex, along with a bunch of other nebulae. New stars are always forming there."
Alfred paused. "Hey, do you even know what I'm talking about?"
"Da, da."
"You're lying," Alfred accused, narrowing his eyes. "You've just been staring at me, instead of the stars." The angel nibbled at his lip. "Yeah… I guess it's kind of hard to see where I'm pointing, especially since it's so dark."
Alfred wiggled closer until he was practically on top of Ivan.
The demon lost his breath. Alfred was wholly oblivious as he grabbed Ivan's hand.
"Here," he said as he gestured upwards with Ivan's fingers entwined in his own. "Do you see it now? Orion, the Hunter. According to the myths, he was able to slay any beast.
"The blue-white star right there is Rigel. It's the brightest one in the constellation." Alfred guided Ivan's hand across to the other side of Orion. "And that orange-red one is Betelgeuse."
Alfred pointed to various constellations and stars—Gemini, Polaris, Cassiopeia—until his arm got tired. He dropped it with a yawn, and cuddled into the warm body beneath.
"Hey," he murmured drowsily. "Tonight was really awesome, Ivan. Thanks."
Ivan stared at the cloudless winter sky, dazed, long after Alfred had fallen asleep. Alfred had called him by his name.
The angel suddenly shivered; Ivan broke out of his reverie. It was getting chilly. He carefully nudged Alfred off of him, then stood up. He was about to scoop up the golden blond in his arms when he remembered the purchases he had made earlier in the evening.
Ah…
The demon lifted Alfred and adjusted his limbs so that the boy was draped across his shoulders. Bag bumping into the back of his legs, Ivan carried Alfred piggyback to the portal, to the Underworld, to the castle, back to his chambers.