Wincing with discomfort, Alfred knocked at the door of the master suite. It was a bit after nine, and the officers had just relinquished Alfred after the worst two hours of his life in gods-know-how-long. Boy, did he feel bad for whoever they went home to; not a single one of the officers showed an inkling of care for how he felt.

Irritated, exhausted, and very sore, Alfred huffed as he knocked at the door again. What was taking Ivan so long? Alfred's muscles were starting to cramp from clenching to keep the demons' release from trickling out—he didn't want a poor maid to have to clean that up—and he wanted a cold shower followed by a hot bath, lemon tea, and cuddles.

The door finally cracked open. Alfred shivered at the unexpected gust of freezing air as he limped into the suite. Why was it so cold?

"Hey, Ivan. I'm back. Gonna go take a bath. I feel so gross."

Rubbing his arms, he brushed past the demon and immediately headed to the bathroom.

"Oh!" The angel beamed at the platinum blond, who had silently trailed behind Alfred. "Thank you, Vanya." The bath was already full—freshly-drawn, judging by the fragrant steam that wafted up. Ivan was so thoughtful. Was that his favorite rose bath oil Alfred smelled?

Mood considerably improved, Alfred shed his soiled tunic and stepped into the shower, washing the semen from his hair and skin with the cold water that streamed down. When he had gotten the seed out from inside him and no more clumps were rinsing off, Alfred shut the valve and made his way to the bath. He gratefully sank into the warm water with a soft whimper of relief. The heat felt so good.

Closing his eyes, Alfred wiggled his toes against the tile and stretched. "Vanya?"

The demon didn't speak, but Alfred could hear the sound of heavy footsteps approaching. "Help me wash my hair?" He tilted his head up to smile in Ivan's direction.

Silence again. Hm, maybe Ivan didn't feel talkative tonight? Before Alfred could ask if something was wrong, strong fingers began to massage his scalp. The angel sank deeper into the water, purring.

Alfred was almost asleep from the pleasant sensation when the fingers stopped.

He blearily blinked his eyes open. The water was turning chilly.

Alfred looked up, but Ivan was gone. Pouting, he quickly scrubbed the rest of his body with a sponge saturated with strawberry body wash. He'd have to get a towel by himself.


The first thing Alfred saw when he left the bathroom, dressed in a silk robe, was the broad outline of Ivan's back. The second was a dark navy shape on the bed, so that must mean—

Grinning, Alfred walked over and swiped his glasses from where he had set it on top of his folded military uniform before he left for the barracks. It was always a little nerve-wracking to not be able to see. Alfred liked knowing what was going on.

He flopped face-down on the bed with a dramatic sigh. "Wow, what a long day, huh, Ivan? I could really go for some lemon tea right now." Alfred hoped Ivan would take the hint.

When there was no response, Alfred rolled around. "Ivan?" Was there to be no lemon tea for Alfred tonight?

Fumbling on his glasses, Alfred peeked at the demon.

The other general looked furious.

The golden blond's smile slid off his face. Why was Ivan mad? Did Alfred do something wrong? Oh…

"Did you want me tonight, baby?" Maybe Ivan wasn't happy that Alfred was kind of loose. "It'll be a little while until I tighten up, but I can still make it feel good…" Alfred cut his offer short as Ivan's expression darkened even further.

What did Alfred do wrong? The angel ran over the events of the night in his head. Ivan had been grumpy when Alfred left. Was he angry that Alfred was late in getting back? It hadn't been his fault, though, the officers hadn't wanted to stop—

Oh.

Oh, no. Ivan was angry that Alfred had slept with the officers, wasn't he? What if he thought that Alfred was dirty—or gods, slutty—for having sex with other demons? Because Alfred was Ivan's consort, so that meant that only Ivan could fuck him. What if Ivan didn't want Alfred anymore, and that was why Ivan wasn't talking to him?

But Mattie—

Alfred grabbed for a blanket to bundle himself in; his hand closed around stiff fabric instead.

A shudder ran through Alfred's body. He hastily dropped his military uniform as a flood of memories from the night with the Nightmare Basilisk assaulted his mind: Ivan's ghastly smile, his cruel laughter, the promises of what he would do to Alfred once Alfred was no good.

The time had come, Alfred thought, dazed. Ivan was disgusted with him. Disgusted by him.

Ivan wouldn't still want him in his bed after this, of course. Ivan was a practical man, and he abhorred waste, so he would probably give Alfred to his men before he threw him to the monstrosities in Tartarus.

Maybe if he were lucky, Ivan wouldn't get rid of him until he had become too worn out to be of any use, and that wouldn't be for a few months at least, with how quickly he healed. Unless—the angel bit his lip at the thought—he was fucked too often for him to have a chance to heal. It wasn't impossible, with how many soldiers Ivan had and how hungrily the soldiers had stared at him when Ivan wasn't looking. Maybe Ivan would come by and watch his former consort be taken again and again before he left for his new, better consort, one who hadn't had so many others between his legs.

And if Alfred were very lucky, Ivan might even join his men and fuck Alfred once in a while himself. He knew that there was nothing between him and Ivan, but Ivan was a kind master; he made Alfred feel good. Alfred would miss the snowy kisses along his collarbone, the careful, tender lines that Ivan would trace with his fingertips along the edges of his feathers. Most of all, he would miss the way that, on mornings when he thought Alfred was still sleeping, Ivan would look at Alfred as if he were made of gold or silver, the most precious thing in the world.

But those were likely too much to hope for. Alfred would settle just for the feel of Ivan's body on his. Maybe Ivan would still let him go to the human world every now and then, even if Alfred couldn't finish his degree, and maybe Blini and Whaley could visit him in the barracks—

"I'm sorry," Alfred whispered. Tears gathered at the corners of his eyes. "I'm sorry, master. I made you mad."

Ivan snapped out of his sullen haze when he noticed his consort's pupils flickering white. He reached for the angel, and Alfred flinched.

Ivan pulled his hand back. "Don't cry, Fredka. I am not angry. Really," Ivan added in response to the disbelief on Alfred's face. "I was just… concerned."

"About what?" Alfred's voice was small.

Ivan carded a hand through his hair. "I—ah, I was worried that you—" He paused. "I didn't like that you were with the officers," he said quietly.

Alfred relaxed a little. That was okay, then. Ivan wasn't angry at Alfred, because it hadn't been Alfred's fault that the officers had wanted him. Alfred didn't have to go to the barracks and service all the soldiers. He'd still get to stay in Ivan's warm bed that smelled like snow and pine and sugar plums. "Sorry, Vanya. I didn't really have a choice… I really want to save Mattie, and the officers wouldn't have listened to me otherwise. I'm fine, though. They didn't hurt me, or anything." The former general let the robe drop from around his shoulders. "See? They didn't mark me."

Ivan's fingers traveled down along the line of his neck, and Alfred leaned into the touch.

"…It's not just about your brother."

Alfred jerked his head up in surprise. "Huh?" It wasn't?

Ivan didn't look so angry now, but the tension in his brows didn't fade. "You never notice the effect you have on other people, Alfred," the platinum blond grumbled. "You're so oblivious."

"What do you mean?" Was this about The Atmosphere again? Francis had lectured Alfred about how oblivious he was to it back in the palace, Alfred swore he'd read the book one of these days, but it was really hard to find—

"With the officers… With humans… You draw everyone's eye to you. You don't notice." Ivan's lips tightened into a thin line. "I don't like to share."

Alfred cocked his head, contemplating, confused. Ivan was possessive of his property, Alfred knew, but this went beyond that. What was wrong with Alfred drawing people's attention? Wouldn't that make Ivan happier, to have something that other people were interested in? And what was being shared? Alfred's body?

The angel's sapphire eyes lit up as he realized what was bothering Ivan. Back in the palace, there had been a time—

Sprawled across the divan, Alfred tried to focus on the book in his lap as he nibbled on a strawberry. The guards were so loud, though, it was really distracting.

"Hey, both of you, shut up." Alfred threw the stem at the demons tangled together in a heap on the floor. "Can't you see I'm reading here?"

"Alfred, please—"

The door opened then, and Francis came in. The monarch sighed as he took in the sight before him. "This is the third fistfight in a week. Another dispute over Alfred's favor?" He bent down to help the guards up.

"My king," one of the guards all but whined, "it's not fair that he"—the demon pointed accusingly at his opponent—"gets to have Alfred again today. Alfred likes me more, I got him that text on reta... reva… rela—"

"Relativistic quantum mechanics," Alfred supplied helpfully.

"That!" The guard looked triumphant.

"And I got him two hamburgers from that human place three days ago, so Alfred likes me more," the other guard retorted. "In fact, let's settle this, once and for all. Alfred, who do you prefer? Me? Or this bastard?"

Alfred didn't glance up from his book. "Yes."

Francis shook his head. "Out, both of you." Shooing the pair of guards out of the room, Francis strode over to the divan and sat down.

"Alfred, mon chéri, you will be the death of my guards someday."

Alfred shrugged. "Not my fault they get so weird about who gets to fuck me."

Francis chuckled as he ran his fingers through Alfred's hair. "They are—hm, this might be a bit of a strange concept for you, seeing as how angels are not encouraged to engage in romantic relationships. The guards get jealous when they see that someone else is the recipient of your affections. Jealousy is a very natural emotion for demons to have, you know."

The angel snickered. "Romantic? Please. Whatever's between the guards and me is definitely not romantic. Or a relationship."

"When it comes to matters of passion and carnal affairs, too, jealousy is never far behind." Francis said sagely. "I have much to teach you still, my dear." He winked.

Alfred rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, dude."

Well, Alfred supposed that Francis' teachings did turn out coming in handy, especially right about now. Ivan, being a demon and all, was feeling jealous. Of the officers, probably, because they were the ones who had fucked Alfred.

Letting the silk robe slide down further, Alfred moved to perch on the demon's lap. He cradled Ivan's face and nuzzled against a cool cheek. "I'm yours, master. I belong to no one else but you." Alfred stroked one of the curling jet-black horns with his thumb as his other hand sought Ivan's. Holding the demon's right hand in his, Alfred dipped down and pressed a kiss to the halo-ring. "I gave you my halo. I'm yours for as long as I exist, Vanya."

Ivan's arms wound around his waist. Alfred pillowed his head against Ivan's chest, and smiled at the low rumble of satisfaction he heard there. Crisis averted, thank the gods. Alfred should really thank Francis, too, the next time they saw each other.

It had been a long, long day. Alfred was ready for a good night's sleep, but, ah, before he forgot… "My bracelets, Ivan?"

"Da, dorogoy." Ivan's voice no longer sounded strained. The familiar weight settled around Alfred's wrists, and the angel hummed, pleased.


Ivan returned to his bed, warm washcloth in hand, to find Alfred curled up around a pillow, snoring softly. The Dark general bit back a croon of delight. After the dismal events of the day, the night was ending on a high note, after all. Alfred, flushed and debauched from the demon's ministrations on his lap, was now content and safe in his bed, looking absolutely adorable.

Ivan lied down on the bed, next to his consort. The angel instantly snuggled up to the demon in his sleep.

Ivan's heart felt so full that the warmth threatened to overflow.

Holding the golden blond close, Ivan buried his nose in the silky locks. "Stay with me, lapochka," he dared to breathe into the angel's hair. "I love you."

But Alfred was dreaming. Alfred was lost in a dream that he didn't wake up from until hours later, on the morning of the day when the war was to conclude at last.