It was a sweet gesture that wasn't easily given by Gilbert,
but oh how Ivan craved the touch more than anything.
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[Originally Posted: August 4, 2020]
I woke up feeling kinda sad and had this small image of Ivan and Gil cuddling on a couch together, so here we are with this short, extremely self-indulgent fic that I wrote in about 70 minutes.
Setting: Nationverse, 1959
CW: Angst. Hurt/comfort. Fluff.
It was late. Maybe 2:30 in the morning when Ivan finally got home. He was cold, tired, and his face stung from where his boss had struck him across the cheek. Deep inside he wanted to fall to his knees and cry, but on the surface, he was still the icy, stoic Ivan Braginsky that everyone feared.
As he pulled into the driveway, he noticed that all of the lights in the house were dark, except for one room to the far left on the second floor — Gilbert's room. Of course he was still awake; Gilbert was a workaholic and Ivan admired him for his diligence, even if it was unhealthy. After taking a deep breath, Ivan headed into his home, he took off his snow-dusted jacket and loosened his tie, then headed upstairs.
As he had done several times before Ivan stood outside Gilbert's door, staring blankly at the dark wood and attempted to work up the confidence to open it. His feet shifted, he bit his lip, and frowned as the anxiety built in his gut and made him feel weak.
So many times he had stood there in silence, not moving, just thinking—imagining—what it would be like to enter and see Gilbert sitting at his desk. Each time, he pictured Gilbert looking up from his work, cocking an annoyed eyebrow at being interrupted, then saying some snide remark to Ivan or questioning why he's there. Despite the thought, it made Ivan smile because it was so very like Gilbert.
His fingers twitched as he reached forward, then hesitated more. He worried how it would look — running to his subordinate so late in the night for something as weak as needing comfort. Out of everyone there, Gilbert saw Ivan's vulnerable side the most, but that didn't make it easier for him.
Suddenly, his cheek stung and he inhaled. Swallowing his pride, he turned the doorknob and entered. As expected, Gilbert immediately looked up from his desk and cocked an eyebrow. However, his expression seemed more surprised than anything, not condescending at all.
"You're home late," Gilbert commented on the time as he set his pen down then reached his hand up to his face. "What happened?" he asked and tapped his cheek, noticing the red mark on Ivan's cheek. Ivan visibly tensed, shoulders raised and he bit his lip.
"I got hit," Ivan answered in defeat and looked to the floor. He felt shame for being so weak about it, but he was tired and his care was quickly dwindling. Gilbert tilted his head, his lips downturned, eyes narrowed as he studied the other's body language. His behavior was different than usual. "Gilbert can I—" he started, lifting his head and looking desperate now. "Can I...stay with you for a little while?" he asked. Gilbert's eyes widened just a centimeter and he swallowed; something bad must have happened to make Ivan like that. Sighing, Gilbert rubbed his temples in a reluctant manner.
"Why not, I was done with my work anyway," he lied and stood up from his chair; he still had tons of work to finish, but he could tell that Ivan was nearing a breaking point. "Come here," Gilbert instructed. He moved around his desk, went to the couch along the wall, and then sat down. Turning, he put his legs along the length of the couch, reclined into a resting position, and then patted his stomach.
Ivan was shocked as he watched Gilbert move; it was unlike him to be so welcoming like that. Regardless, as soon as Gilbert beckoned him over and then extending his arms to him, Ivan paced to him, sat beside him, then looked over the German's face; Gilbert had bags under his eyes from an obvious lack of sleep, but Ivan knew that showing concern would just agitate him, so instead, he lowered his body and carefully rested his head on Gilbert's chest as he settled beside him.
As Ivan adjusted and pressed his body against his, Gilbert wrapped his arm around Ivan's shoulders and held him; one hand went to his nape where his fingers toyed with the wavy strands of Ivan's ash-blond hair. The touch made Ivan's heart flutter and his cheeks flushed red. It was a sweet gesture that wasn't easily given by Gilbert, but oh how Ivan craved the touch more than anything. Carefully, Ivan turned more to face Gilbert.
"Ow," Ivan hissed softly as his injured cheek rubbed against Gilbert's shirt.
"Careful," Gilbert told him and pet the other's head.
Ivan hummed softly, a quiet apology. One leg slipped between Gilbert's and he tucked one hand along Gilbert's side just to hold him. Gilbert tried to pretend like it didn't affect him, but it did. Seeing Ivan cuddle into him as if he was starved for comfort made his heart quicken, but he tried to keep calm and not show it. Luckily for him, Ivan couldn't see his face, which was slowly gaining just a little bit of color.
After a few minutes, Gilbert tightened his arms, his hand at Ivan's nape moved up and cupped the back of the Russian's head, then gave a squeeze before he stroked through his hair. The gesture prompted Ivan to shift closer and breathe in, inhaling Gilbert's scent — a subtle teakwood and mild smoky scent. It was comforting and familiar. It felt like home.
"Sorry for taking you away from your work," Ivan eventually muttered against Gilbert's chest.
"Be quiet..." Gilbert retorted with a soft groan; he never knew what to do when Ivan apologized, but continued to mutter, "I needed to get away from it anyway."
"I know. Your eyes are all droopy and bloodshot," Ivan commented, chuckling when Gilbert tutted at him in embarrassment.
"You don't look so good either, you know." Gilbert rubbed down Ivan's back. "You looked like you were about to cry."
Ivan was silent for several deafening seconds.
"I was."
Gilbert froze and briefly held his breath, but then inhaled deep, causing Ivan's head and chest to move with him.
"Why...?" Gilbert inquired cautiously. Ivan turned into Gilbert's body more, slipping his leg further between Gilbert's and tucking his one arm under his body more to cling to him.
"I don't want to talk about it," he spoke rather childishly, but Gilbert understood and respected it even if he was curious. Ivan just wanted comfort, that was all he needed, so Gilbert gave it to him. The way Ivan nuzzled into him made Gilbert feel a bit awkward and shy, but he didn't say anything or try to move.
Staring at the mess of Ivan's wavy hair tucked under his chin, Gilbert felt compelled, though didn't know why nor did he stop as he tilted his head down. His fingers brushed through Ivan's locks slowly, holding the back of his head, and he pressed a kiss into his hair. He breathed in his scent of pleasant musk and cold before he closed his eyes. Ivan felt the kiss and it renewed the faded blush on his cheeks, and he cuddled into Gilbert's body more, squeezing him close.
Ivan was rarely warm, but he noticed that the few times he was, Gilbert was always there; Gilbert made him feel safe and thawed his chilly bones. Lying there in his arms, he closed his eyes and breathed slowly to absorb everything, how Gilbert's body felt and smelled, the little movements of his fingers and his chest rising.
Eventually, Ivan lifted his head to look at Gilbert, but when he did, he saw that the German's head had lolled to the side, rested against the crimson cushion at the end of the couch, eyes closed, white gossamer lashes kissing his cheeks; he looked so peaceful in his sleep and it made Ivan smile a little, grateful that the man was getting some much-needed sleep. Ivan's eyes scanned down, falling on Gilbert's pale pink lips that parted softly as he breathed. The urge to kiss him cropped up but Ivan shook his head, despite blushing at his own thoughts.
Instead, he leaned down, kissed Gilbert's chest, and whispered "goodnight" before cuddling back into him, eventually finding sleep as well.
Thank you for reading!
Remember to comment if you enjoyed!💕
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