The clock struck eight, and Ivan nudged open the portal door from the master bedroom, taking care to not jostle the angel cradled to his chest. Alfred had looped his arms around Ivan's neck when Ivan picked him up, reflexively clinging to the demon in his sleep.
With difficulty, Ivan untangled himself from his consort and laid Alfred down on the bed in the New York apartment; the golden blond whimpered at the loss of contact. Ivan plopped the whale in his other hand down, and Alfred instantly wrapped his limbs around the whale. The crease of discomfort that had appeared on Alfred's forehead smoothed out.
Smiling, Ivan set the alarm on the nightstand for a quarter after eight, and headed to the kitchen. He would usually permit Alfred to sleep in—Alfred never attended his lectures anyway—but Alfred had a big test today, the last before the school year ended, and it wouldn't do for Alfred to show up without a proper breakfast.
Alfred rubbed at his eyes as he stumbled out of the bedroom at half-past eight, hair mussed, clothes hastily thrown on, skin immaculate and glossy with moisturizer. He followed the heavenly scent of coffee to the kitchen.
"Vanya?"
The demon turned from the stove. "Good morning, Fredka. Coffee?"
"Please." Alfred groaned, dropping into a chair at the counter. He hated 9 a.m. classes.
Ivan set a steaming mug in front of his consort. Alfred had insisted on a fancy coffee-maker a few years back, and with how much coffee the angel needed to function, Ivan agreed that it was a sound investment.
Alfred moaned in delight as he took a sip. Eight spoonfuls of sugar and a dash of moo-moo milk—Ivan knew him so well.
Perking up, he grinned at the platinum blond. "What's for breakfast, big guy?"
"Blini with strawberries and cream, eggs over easy, toast, and bacon."
"Make my bacon and eggs into a smiley face?"
"Da, da. I'll bring your plate right over." Ivan scooped up the eggs with a spatula and shifted them onto a plate. "Summer break is coming up in a few weeks, lapochka. Do you have any plans?" He took off his apron and hung it on a hook.
Alfred shrugged as he took another sip of coffee, mindful to not burn his tongue. "Not really. Maybe do some research on grad schools." Alfred was on track to graduate with his bachelor's in mathematics and physics a year early, and considering a PhD.
Ivan hummed. He slid two plates onto the counter: one with blini and toast, the other with two eggs and a strip of bacon. Alfred cheered and ripped the toast up into strips to dip in the runny yolks.
"Would you like a small celebration, then? To mark the conclusion of another successful academic year?"
"Oh, that sounds nice! A date?" Alfred asked around a mouthful of eggs and toast.
"A date sounds good."
"Can I pay this time? And make the plans?" Alfred had gotten a tutoring gig on the side. He cut off a piece of blini with his fork, smothered it in cream, and speared a strawberry before bringing it to his lips.
"If you wish." Ivan's brow furrowed. "Is the allowance not enough? I can tell Toris to increase what is budgeted for you."
"No, it's fine." Alfred swallowed the bite of blini. "These are really good, Ivan. I just want to treat you. I don't like spending your money on me all the time."
"It is no trouble…" Ivan trailed off at seeing Alfred's frown. "All right, dorogoy," he acquiesced. "I look forward to it. Just, ah, no fistfights with the pigeons this time?"
"That was once," Alfred huffed. "And the pigeons were taunting me."
"You do not even understand their language."
"You don't need words to insult someone, dude. I could see it in their eyes. They were gonna push me off the platform."
Rolling his eyes, Ivan left the kitchen to retrieve Alfred's hairbrush.
Ivan walked back to his suite with a satisfied smirk on his lips. After so many years, the end of the war was finally in sight. The last angel general, whose identity was still a mystery, had proven remarkably elusive—it had taken two years to track down just the approximate location of the stronghold.
Even the best had to slip up sometime, though. In allowing his pet polar bear to wander around, the Light general had inadvertently made the mistake that would cost Heaven the war. Ivan frequently sent out scouts to search for any hints of the fort that the Dark monarch was certain existed. None had found anything out of the ordinary, not even a glimmer of Light magic, until recently.
One of his scouts had seen a polar bear wandering the outskirts of Heaven. The sight alone would not have aroused his suspicions—polar bears were common in the tundra—but the polar bear had been speaking, repeating a single question: "Who are you?" At some point, the polar bear segued into an impassioned motivational speech on the importance of self-esteem. It had made some really good points, so the scout trailed it, curious to hear the rest of what the bear had to say. Self-improvement was encouraged among Ivan's troops.
Then, according to the scout, the polar bear was suddenly mid-air, almost as if an invisible force had hefted it up. The shocked demon had gaped as the floating bear vanished into a portal—the portal that led to the final stronghold.
Ivan opened the door to the master suite. A white, gold, and grey blur immediately tackled him.
"Ivan!"
"Hello, Fredka," Ivan kissed his bouncing consort on the cheek. "How did your test go? Did you make it on time?" He had dropped Alfred off at campus with five minutes to spare.
"Yep! And it was good. Easy-peasy. I know all the material already." Alfred grabbed his sleeve and practically yanked him into the suite. "Hurry up and eat, Ivan. One of the kids I tutor recommended this movie today. We have to watch it! It's called Shrek, and he says it's amazing. I bought it at the store on the way back." Alfred had already changed into his pajamas and fuzzy whale socks, asked Toris to pop the popcorn and everything. All he needed to do now was pick a whale buddy to watch the film with and wait for Ivan to finish dinner.
"Did you have dinner already?"
"Mhm, at the McDonald's on Eighth." Ivan had insisted that Alfred go to different McDonald's on different days because apparently it was "unnatural" and "horrific" how much Alfred ate. Well, it was unnatural and horrific how hard Ivan had cried at Finding Nemo, so there.
"That's the third time you've gone to McDonald's this week, da?"
"Yep." Alfred studied the small stack of stuffed whales on the window ledge. Technically, it was Moby's turn with him and Ivan tonight, but Alfred didn't want Whaley to miss out on what promised to be a good time. Alfred had a soft spot for Whaley. He'd never admit it out loud, of course, especially in front of the rest of the pod. He didn't want the other whales to feel self-conscious or insecure.
"Sorry, Moby," the angel murmured as he made up his mind. "Whaley really likes this kind of movie, though. I hope you understand. I'll give you an extra turn later."
Ivan fondly watched his consort select a whale from the pile as he ate his supper of pelmeni. Alfred loved whales, for reasons beyond Ivan's understanding. Ivan tried to get him whales and whale-themed accessories whenever possible—stuffed whales from trips to the aquarium, whale shirts and socks from the New York boutiques, whale pins and badges and totes from the art fairs. The tailor had been surprised when Ivan had requested custom silk whale-print pajamas for Alfred's birthday. He had done an extraordinary job with the order. Making the trimming of the wing slits ocean waves had been a nice touch.
"Have you thought about where you will be eating tomorrow?" Alfred was eating more regularly in the human world, but sometimes he forgot when he was on one of his adventures and didn't have Ivan around to remind him. Therefore, Ivan had developed a habit of checking in with Alfred every night.
Alfred fluffed Whaley up in his arms. "There's a pretty well-known Cajun restaurant that I've been wanting to try out." Ivan didn't like when Alfred ate fast food, so Alfred had learned to be a bit more creative in how he described certain places.
"Cajun? Crawfish étouffée and gumbo?" Alfred had brought those back to the Underworld before—decent, although the flavor profile was not exactly to Ivan's tastes.
"…Yeah. Something like that." Popeyes had jambalaya, right?
A feathery wing swatted at the knitting in Ivan's hands. The demon hissed in annoyance as he dropped a stitch.
Alfred's wing neatly flicked the half-finished scarf out of his hold and onto the floor. The ball of yarn rolled under the bed.
"Alfred."
Curled around Whaley and eyes glued to the television, the angel paused shoveling popcorn into his mouth. "It's been thirty minutes, Ivan. You know the rules."
"I was in the middle of a row."
"And I'm in the middle of a great cinematic experience that you are interrupting. Shut up and get to work." Alfred grabbed the remote to rewind the movie and scooted up until he was seated in Ivan's lap.
Ivan heaved a long-suffering sigh. On Movie Nights, which were most nights, he had thirty precious minutes of knitting time before he had to attend to Alfred. It was not nearly enough, Ivan reflected glumly as he started to rub at the base of Alfred's wings.
The angel relaxed against him, purring.
A minute after the closing credits showed up on the screen, Alfred turned off the TV and turned to Ivan with enormous sparkling eyes. "That was awesome! We have to watch the other ones in the series!"
Ivan's eyebrow twitched. "There are more? I… Fredka, what was the point of this?"
"Does art always need a point?" Alfred tucked his wings closed and hopped off the bed to return Whaley to his pod. He quickly came back and climbed into Ivan's lap again. "Well, I guess if you insist on extracting some sort of objective meaning from the experience, Shrek is a poignant masterpiece detailing the dangers of preconceived notions and how appearances can be deceiving." Hm. Would it be too late to tack on a film studies triple major? Alfred wondered.
Ivan gaped at the golden blond.
"Alfred, it's a children's movie about an ogre."
"But ogres have layers, Vanya! Like you." Alfred booped Ivan on the nose.
"Oh? So I'm an ogre now?" The Dark general lowered his voice to a deep growl. "I'm a big bad ogre and I found a yummy little angel to eat." Grabbing Alfred around the waist, Ivan nibbled at Alfred's collarbone until the angel's body shook with uncontrollable giggles.
"I-Ivan, stop! Not fair!"
Instead of stopping, the demon mercilessly tickled Alfred's sides until the angel was squealing with laughter.
"WAAAAAAOOOOOOOUUUU!"
Ivan drew back, chuckling. "Sorry, my little whale. I couldn't resist." Alfred made whale noises only when he was very distressed.
Alfred blinked worriedly at him. "Do you think I'm getting fat?"
"No, not at all," Ivan assured the angel. Alfred was sensitive about his weight—Ivan didn't know why. No matter what he ate, Alfred never seemed to gain fat, only muscle.
He soothingly stroked Alfred's hair and pulled the golden blond on top of him, running his hands down Alfred's torso. Since he started having meals in the human world, Alfred had filled out a little. His ribs weren't as prominent as when he had first gotten to Ivan's castle, and there was a very pleasant curve to his hips, now.
Alfred still looked troubled. "I'll work out more," the former Light general promised. Alfred had thought about joining a sports team in college—baseball looked fun—but even with the bracelets on, he was stronger than most humans. The risk of accidentally hurting someone was too great, so Alfred had abstained.
Still, he had been so careful—he jogged every day and went to the gym three times a week. Maybe it wasn't enough? Alfred gnawed at the inside of his cheek. If he didn't look good, then Ivan wouldn't want him anymore, and then—
"Alfred," Ivan said firmly when Alfred's gaze grew unfocused and tears gathered at the corners of his sapphire eyes. "Lapochka, you look wonderful." He kissed the angel on the lips and made a mental note to never call Alfred by that particular endearment again. "You look more beautiful with every passing day."
His consort gave him a wobbly smile. "Okay, Ivan." Alfred brushed away the tears and nuzzled at the demon's neck. "Are you free next weekend? I have some ideas for what we can do on our date."
"Da, I will be sure to set aside next weekend for you." Now that victory was in sight, Ivan's weekends were largely devoted to war efforts. He would make time for Alfred, however; he had been setting aside weekends and the occasional weekday for Alfred for the past two years, whenever the angel got bored or lonely, or just wanted Ivan to. The days off may have delayed the military expeditions somewhat, but Alfred was far more important.
Alfred smiled at him.
A quiet thrill ran down Ivan's spine. Ah… It was that smile, equal parts excited and shy, that Alfred gave him whenever Alfred wanted something.
He reached out to caress the angel's cheek. "What do we say, sunflower?"
Alfred's smile widened. "I want you, Ivan, baby. Do you want me, too?" His voice was as sweet as honey.
Ivan's heart felt so full that the demon unconsciously moved a hand to his chest, afraid it would fall out.
"Oh," Ivan breathed, "Fedya, of course."