"Thanks, Ivan. You really didn't have to meet up with me on such short notice." Matthew smiled nervously at his best friend, hands wrapped around a mug of coffee.
"It is not a problem. You need to talk, da? I do not mind to listen." Ivan's imposing figure frightened many, but Matthew had always been able to see through to the genuinely kind person underneath.
"Well, before I start complaining about my life, how have you been?" Matthew sipped his coffee.
"I am well. My studies are proceeding nicely, and my grandparents have finally decided to re-write me into their wills, though they still do not believe that I am gay. They are very traditional, da? Not like your family." Ivan surreptitiously slipped a flask out from underneath his coat, and poured a small amount of the contents-probably vodka-into his mug.
"That's good. I'm glad they changed their minds about disowning you, but what about your parents? Last time we talked you told me that they said they never wanted to see you again." Matthew absently stirred his coffee, though unlike Ivan, he hadn't added anything to it.
"That is correct. They have also forbidden Katyusha from seeing me." Ivan frowned slightly. He had always been fond of his older sister. "Natalia as well, though that has not stopped her." He wished it had.
"Does she still want to…?"
"Da." Ivan shivered, and pulled his scarf closer around his neck. "But enough about me. What did you wish to speak about?"
"Well, um, I-I kind of need…relationship advice." Matthew fiddled anxiously with a packet of artificial sweetener.
"Little Matvey has finally found someone? I am so happy for you ! Is it someone I know?" Ivan cocked his head. The childish gesture seemed strange coming from a man of his stature.
"No, no, I didn't meet him until after I moved here."
"Him?" Matthew nodded. "What is he like?"
"He's…kind of immature, sometimes. But he can be really sweet. He's a good cook. Um…he freaked out when Kumalina started talking, but got over it quickly. He's pretty loud…and his handwriting is freakishly neat, which is weird, because he goes out of his way to make messes…and listen to me, I'm rambling." Matthew laughed quietly, both at himself, and the memory of the way Ivan had reacted to Kumajirou's speech. (Before that moment, he had no idea that Ivan always carried with him a short-barrel Baikal Margo MCM pistol.)
"I did ask." Ivan pointed out. "You said you needed advice. With what? I am always willing to help."
"With…everything." Matthew dropped his head into his hands. "I've never managed to keep a relationship for longer than a week, Ivan! You and Toris have been together for almost a year, you must be doing something right!"
"Toris is more patient than most, da? He is hardly a representative of the general population. But I understand your dilemma. Perhaps you are not being assertive enough? It is frustrating to most to hold a one-sided conversation." Ivan patted Matthew's hair comfortingly.
"Mmph." Matthew responded without raising his head.
"Matvey, my English may be proficient, but I cannot understand you when you do not enunciate your words." Ivan smiled when he caught Toris's eye from behind the counter. Toris smiled back with a small wave.
"Can't you just let me wallow in peace?" Matthew mumbled.
"Nyet. You have asked for my advice, and I will give it. Look at me, please. It is disconcerting to speak to the top of your head." Ivan drained his coffee cup, and it was more than the heat that made it burn on the way down.
"Fine, fine." Matthew grudgingly lowered his hands and raised his face to look Ivan balefully in the eye. "Happy now?"
"Very. Is there anything in particular you wish me to advise you on?" Ivan drummed his fingers against the side of his mug, wondering absently if Toris was their waiter.
"I already told you, Vanya, I need help with everything." It was the fact that Matthew had called him by his childhood nickname more than anything else that told Ivan how important this really was.
"Why do we not start with your lover's name?" Matthew blushed and began spluttering a protest. Ivan ignored him. "It grows tiresome to repeat 'him' so many times."
"Gilbert. His name's Gilbert. And he's not my lover."
Ivan wagged a finger reproachfully. "Yet. Do not always be so pessimistic, Matvey. How far have you gotten with him?"
"I-Ivan! Isn't that a-a little personal?" Matthew's face turned a shade of red that would have put a cherry to shame.
"Da. But to know where you must go I must know where you have already been." Ivan grinned, and Matthew was reminded of the way he acted on the ice. It wasn't a particularly reassuring thought.
"You have a point, I guess. Well…we, we, um, we kissed last night. But that-that's it."
Ivan nodded thoughtfully. "Have your flirting skills improved since Maddox?"
"Wh-what? What does he have to do with anything?" Matthew stared at Ivan, the harsh fluorescent lighting reflecting from his glasses and hiding his eyes.
"More than you might think. But you did not answer my question." Ivan tapped the table a bit impatiently.
"I-I don't know. Probably not. Why?"
"Even if you are in a stable relationship, you must keep the other party interested, da? If you take him for granted, he will not hesitate to leave you." Ivan's point was painfully blunt.
"I suppose you're right…So basically you're telling me to flirt?"
"That is correct." Ivan nodded. "Would you like me to teach you how to flirt effectively?"
"I, um…" Matthew pushed his sleeves up to his elbows, in an effort to stop himself from picking the hems to a frayed mess.
Ivan narrowed his eyes. "This is a bit off topic, but how did you acquire those bruises? And do not try to tell me it was some sort of accident, I know that you are not that clumsy."
"I…You know Alejandro?"
"The Cuban man who mistakes you for Alfred?" Ivan frowned. He didn't like where this was going.
"Yeah. He, um, apparently Al did something, or he thought Al did something, and he…beat me up." Matthew tugged his back sleeves down over the marks on his arms.
"Are you alright?" Ivan let his worry show in his tone.
"Y-yeah. Gilbert patched me up."
"You went to him?" Ivan noticed that Matthew became even redder, if possible.
"Well, w-we kind of…live together. H-he's my roommate." Matthew wasn't exactly sure if Gilbert qualified as a 'roommate', but what else could he call him?
"I see…" Ivan tapped his chin.
"J-just some general advice would be nice. Some basic flirting how-to." Matthew wrung his hands absently.
"Hmm. How about a demonstration, da?" Ivan grinned devilishly.
"What?"
"Would either of you like some more coffee?" Matthew looked up in surprise, to see Toris hovering over him, smiling softly.
"Ah, yes please." Matthew scooted his cup closer to Toris, who filled it.
"How about you, Ivan?" The affection in his tone was evident, and Matthew couldn't help but to feel as if he was intruding on something.
"Would you rather I not have something else instead?" Ivan smirked at Toris.
"I'm actually a bit busy at the moment. But I'm free later, if you're still interested." Amusement flashed in Toris' eyes.
"Later is not soon enough. I am impatient, da?"Ivan tugged Toris down by the front of his shirt into a short, chaste kiss.
"Ivan! I'm at work!" Toris protested, but he was laughing.
"So? I know your boss does not mind." As if to prove so, Ivan leaned around Toris to wave cheerily at Elizaveta, the Hungarian woman who owned the café.
"That's not the point! It's unprofessional!" Toris insisted.
"Nyet. It would be unprofessional if we went into the bathroom and…" Ivan whispered something in Toris' ear that caused him to blush vermillion and pull away, sputtering in a rather scandalized manner.
Matthew leaned back into his seat, watching the two of them fondly.
The chime of a bell announced the arrival of more customers. Two men walked in. One, tall, blond and muscular, looked vaguely familiar to Matthew. The second, a slender brunette, was smiling blithely up at the first.
"Ah! Ludwig-san, Feliciano-kun, I did not expect to see you here." Matthew had honestly forgotten that Professor Honda (and his duo of admirers) was still there.
"Kiku. It's been awhile." The blond rumbled a greeting. Matthew caught a hint of a German accent curling around his words like smoke, and he suddenly realized why he looked familiar.
,,
"Hey Mattie." Gilbert barely glanced up from the book open on his lap. When no reply was forth-coming, he looked at Matthew with a frown. "What's up?"
"I…I think I just met your brother…"
..
Wow, chapter eleven already? I can hardly believe it…I went over to a friend's house yesterday. It was fun. We had samosas.
This is a little off topic for this chapter, but I forgot to put it in any of the others: Bhaltair/Walter=Scotland. I-I totally forgot it…Anyway…
Maddox=Hong Kong. It's the name that SpeakingThroughWrittenWords and Canadino use, and I love their SwitzerlandxHong Kong stories. Yes, I know, it's a weird pairing. It's probably the only crack pairing that I like enough to attempt to write it. (Key word being 'attempt')
Da-yes
Nyet-no
I'm pretty sure that's it, actually. Equilibrium out!