"Ciao!" The little red headed greeted as he bounced into the room excitedly followed by a much less enthusiastic blond. "Thank you for inviting us!"

"You're always welcome Feliciano, Ludwig." Arthur responded politely with a smile, stepping aside for them to come in. They were a little early, Alfred and the others had yet to clean up the mess in the living room or change. Hopefully they were doing that right now like he had asked. "Francis is in the kitchen." He explained, hoping his guests would go there so he could yell at his son. Fortunately, the Italian took the bait and hurried toward the kitchen with his boyfriend close behind, mostly from fear of Feliciano breaking something.

Arthur breathed a sigh of relief before storming into the living room where Matthew was frantically putting the finishing touches on all the decorations. Gilbert helped stack the boxes out of sight like good little boy (Matt had promised him a reward if he behaved, and the sultry tone made it easy to comply.) Alfred and Ivan were no where to be found. At least they were doing what he told them.

"Where are they?" He asked Matthew who paused in his work to turn to him.

"They are getting dressed. They should be down soon." Matthew answered. Their father had ordered them to change out of their comfortable clothing and into a more formal attire for the occasion. They also had to lend the other two teenagers some clothing and Ivan's size was proving to be a problem. It was most likely the reason his brother was taking so long. This wasn't good, Arthur always became stressed when they had people over and a stressed Arthur meant an easily angered Arthur.

Alfred was digging through his closet, his nice black dress pants on and his buttoned up shirt open as he searched for a bigger shirt. They had decided Ivan's pants were fine but his shirt needed to be changed.

Ivan sat on the bed patiently, enjoying the red frustrated face Alfred was wearing, along with the toned chest he was able to drink up. Alfred hadn't noticed his disheveled look, too focused on his quest to actually button up his shirt yet.

"Fuck! Why are you so huge?" He cursed, finally pulling out another button up shirt. It was a pale lavender and slightly bigger than his others. Hopefully it would fit the giant. "Take off your shirt." He ordered.

Ivan hesitated and staid still, much to Alfred's confusion. "Let me change in the bathroom."

"Why? Come on! We don't have time! Dad's already pissed." Alfred insisted, coming forward to pull at the others long sleeved shirt. Ivan resisted but soon decided to just let him, as long as he didn't see his back. "Who knew you would be self conscious." Alfred muttered mostly to himself as he grabbed the shirt he had dropped on the floor.

The door flew open revealing an irate looking Englishman. "We're working on it Dad!" Alfred snapped and Arthur huffed out a "They are already her so hurry the bloody hell up" before closing the door. Feliciano and Ludwig were their only guests, Toris said he couldn't make it because of some issue with his work. Alfred grumbled under his breath and looked up, his eyes widening. Ivan had turned at the sound of the door opening and Alfred now had a view of the others bare back.

Suddenly, he remembered the nurses office all those weeks ago when the others shirt rode up revealing what seemed like a multitude of scars.

Well, now it was a concrete fact.

Alfred gasped at the sight of the crisscrossing lines. Some were faint, others distinct. Some were long and ugly. He shuddered. Ivan whirled around at the sound of the sharp intake of breath and quickly scooted back until he rested against the headboard. His heartbeat accelerated and he watched for any sort of reaction from the American. What if he didn't want to be near him now? What if he started asking question? This was exactly why he should have changed in the bathroom.

"Holy shit..." Alfred finally breathed out, coming closer tentatively. He stopped when Ivan visibly flinched, squeezing his eyes shut. Shit, he was started to speak Russian in a quiet rushed tone, just like in the bathroom. "I'm not gonna hurt you! Shit man, what happened?" Who would do something like that?

Ivan took a deep steadying breath before gazing up into concerned blue. "Nothing. It is nothing. We should hurry or you're English father will be angered." He attempted to reason.

"Nothing? That is the complete opposite of nothing! Who did that? Who fucking did that to you?" Alfred was getting angry. His protective heroic nature surfacing at the thought of someone hurting his Ivan like that. Who the hell would even dare do something so horrible? Wait a minute, his Ivan?

"It is alright Alfred. I am fine. Lets get dressed." Ivan reiterated, a desperate attempt to continue as if nothing had happened. As if Alfred hadn't really scene the legacies of his past, etched forever in his skin.

"Its not fine! I'll kill whoever did that to you!" Alfred snarled, wanting to move closer. Wanting to do something. Those scars... This was the 21st century right? How could this happen? Who would do that...

"He is already dead." Ivan replied grimly, drawing his knees closer to his chest in a way to shield himself. "I do not want to talk about this. I will not talk about this. Not now. Let us go to dinner."

"Ivan. I—Shit man!" What was he supposed to do? Should he comfort him? But Ivan seemed to be pretty closed up on the whole issue. Fuck, he needed to know what happened to him! Yet, the Russian was right. They needed to get to the dinner before his dad mauled them. "Alright, we're going to dinner. But we are going to fucking talk about this! You understand me? I—I—God, Ivan your back..." He faltered because fuck, if there was one thing Alfred couldn't stand was when someone he loved got hurt. Especially when he was powerless to help. That scar...it reminded him of his dad's.

"I know it is frightening, you do not have to remind me." Ivan snapped, feeling self conscious. He grabbed the shirt, slipping it on with shaky hands. He didn't need this right now, he needed to get dressed and calm down. Most importantly to calm down and quiet the voices. His hands stilled when the others warm fingers laid upon them. Violet eyes looked up to see the American's worried face.

"Its not frightening, Ivan. You're not frightening, ok? I'm just shocked and angry at whoever did that." The American reassured, giving the other a sweet kiss before helping button up the shirt. It was a little tight but would have to do. Alfred pulled away and buttoned up his own shirt with a frown. He just couldn't wrap his head around the fact that someone would do something so horrible to his Russian. He stood up and turned back to see Ivan beside him, wearing his scarf once more.

"You're going to wear your scarf?"

"Da."

"But Ivan, Dad wil-"

"I am wearing my scarf." He said sternly and with finality. Alfred sighed but nodded as the Russian lead the way out of his room. He stared at the others back, shivering at what lay beneath the lavender fabric. How many times had he stared at him without ever knowing? What else was Ivan hiding from him?

"Feli!" Francis greeted, hugging the Italian in a child friendly way. He would have copped a feel at the others cute bottom if Ludwig wasn't watching him like a hawk. His ex-boss could be so frightening sometimes! How the little red head handled him was beyond him. "Would you like to help with the pasta?"

"Of course!" Feliciano giggled, shooing his boyfriend out of the kitchen. Ludwig sighed before making his way to the living room, the room Arthur had gone in after sending them to see his husband.

"Hey West!" Gilbert greeted from the couch with a cocky grin. He had finished cleaning up and was waiting for his rightful reward. Matthew, though, had to put a few things away quickly beforehand and had left him alone in the room.

"Must you call me that, Gilbert?" The blond sighed.

"Its an awesome nickname, thought up by the awesome me." The albino reasoned.

"Its the word you picked up when your mother went on that business trip."

Gilbert frowned, fidgeting with his shirt a little. "Well, maybe that's when I learned the word but that's not why I use it." He muttered, getting uncharacteristically quiet at the mention of his mother. It was no secret that it was touchy subject in the Beilschmidt household. "Its 'cause you and Grandpa are from West Germany so I thought I could call you West. And I'm from Prussia which makes me East..."

Ludwig softened, deciding not to bring up the fact that the other was not, in fact, Prussian at all and instead just patted his shoulder. "Do you think she..." Gilbert faltered and stared at the ground, his father sighed grimly.

"I'm going to go make sure Feliciano isn't breaking some plates." Ludwig notified and Gilbert snorted as the other left him for the kitchen.

"Gilbert?" Matthew spoke up and the albino lifted his head. When had he gotten here? Or had he been here the whole time?

"Hey Matt." He greeted with a smirk that didn't reach his eyes as he made room for his boyfriend on the couch. Matthew accepted the offer, sitting beside him with a worried frown.

"What were you going to ask?"

"It was nothing..." He brushed off, glaring at the floor once more. Matthew smiled weakly, leaning down to give him a reassuring peck on the cheek.

"You can ask me anything, ok Gil?"

"Yeah..Thanks. But not right now." Gilbert answered, straightening up as Alfred and Ivan entered the room. "Sheesh, what were you two doing that took you so long?" He asked loudly with a raise of his eyebrow. Matthew sighed quietly as the Prussian returned to his usual cocky self in front of others. Still, he could see a slight melancholy in the unique red eyes he loved so much.

"Shut up Gil. We weren't doing anything." Alfred snapped, his cheeks lightly dusting pink at the implications of what his friend had said. Still, his mind was too focused on his recent discovery to really be bothered with the obnoxious teen. Fortunately, Ivan sent Gilbert a warning glance that quieted the others cackling.

"Alfie! Mattie!" Feliciano cried out happily as he came into the room. The Bonnefoy twins turned at the sound and smiled.

"Hey Feli." They said simultaneously, eliciting a giggle from the Italian. He enveloped Alfred in a hug followed by Matthew.

"You two are so adorable when you speak at the same time! Lovino and I used to do the same but now he can be so difficult, mi fratello." He sighed though his dopey smile remained on his shining face. That is, until he felt the threatening aura coming from the fourth individual in the room. The twins blushed slightly at the compliment even though such a comment was expected from the bubbly Italian.

Ivan smirked darkly at the the stranger, not enjoying in the least how the other made his American blush. Alfred, oblivious as always quickly introduced them. "Oh! This is Ivan, our classmate. Ivan, Feliciano. Feliciano, Ivan."

"Erm, n-nice to meet you Ivan." The Italian quickly stammered. Ivan didn't reply, merely nodded coldly. Feliciano excused himself soon after, calling shakily for his boyfriend before attaching himself to his arm. What a scary boy!

"Hey, stop being so creepy. You're scaring Feli." Gilbert snapped, crossing his arms angrily. Feliciano was awesome and shouldn't have to be scared by some creepy Freak from Russia, or at least not when he was around. Ivan was about to make some sort of remark when Alfred grabbed his arm as a warning. Ivan's smile tilted downward but he obeyed nonetheless.

"Dinner is ready!" Francis called, alerting everyone to take their seats at the table. Arthur sat at the head, beside him was Gilbert who was none to happy at not being able to sit beside his cute little (even though he was taller than him) boyfriend. Ludwig sat beside the albino and his own boyfriend. Across from Gilbert, Matthew sat next to his twin. Ivan sat in front of Feliciano (much to the Italian's dismay) and beside Alfred. The chair at the other head of the table remained empty as Francis brought in the last of the food. "Alright, dig in!"

Alfred didn't need to be told twice as he quickly started shoving food onto his plate, only slowing when Arthur scolded him angrily. Ivan frowned slightly at that, giving the Englishman a glare that the other didn't notice, too busy snapping at his husband.

"Ve Francis! The food is delicious!" Feliciano complimented and Francis grinned broadly. Oh how he loved to be praised for his food, something his husband lacked in doing. He attributed the fact to his jealousy of his superior cooking skills.

"Ah Merci, Feliciano. Please, eat as much as you want." He was so very happy that they had become friends. They had first met on Arthur's and his first date, Feliciano being the waiter at the Italian restaurant his grandfather owned. The red head had felt horrible about ruining their date and had sought them out at work (Francis had left his business card because the waiter had a delicious little rump). And ever since then they had become good friends.

It was also the same time when Feliciano first saw Ludwig at Francis' and Arthur's workplace, and fell in love. Francis even introduced them to each other, though, the Italian was shaking with nervousness and slight fear. Ludwig had been even more terrifying at the time, being in the middle of a divorce and trying to raise his little boy adding to his stress.

Feliciano, persistent as ever, slowly wormed his way into Ludwig's soft spot, offering his condolences and advice. Things went even better as he began offering to help babysit little Gilbert when Ludwig had to work late, which was fairly often. He and the one year old soon became quite attached to each other and Ludwig grew fonder of the little annoyance.

Francis always took pride in the relationship, bragging to Arthur about his skills as a matchmaker. Of course, these remarks were usually followed by a 'shut up frog' and a glare.

The group continued to eat, small talk flowing about the room. Ivan picked at his food, trying to keep his emotions under control. He felt slightly trapped because he knew Alfred would pester him all night about his past. He didn't want to tell him. He truly did not want to tell him how horrible he really was because surely Alfred would hate him and leave him. What would he do then?

"Dude, whats wrong?" Alfred whispered, looking at him as he ate.

"Nothing." Ivan answered, giving the other a fake smile and taking another bite of his dish. As he brought his fork to his lips he was reminded that he was wearing the others shirt. Curiously, he brought his sleeve closer and inhaled its scent.

"What are you doing?" Alfred asked incredulously. The guy looked crazy, just sniffing his shirt during dinner. What was wrong with him?

"It smells like you." Ivan responded with a smirk as he turned his hard gaze to the others surprised face. Alfred blushed and stabbed at his food.

"Don't say such creepy things like that." He muttered. "Its weird as hell." He turned back to the main conversation, trying to ignore the creepiness that was sitting next to him.

"-no, I get it! Ludwig can be the same way!" Feliciano responded easily even as the German sent him a death glare. Wait, what were they talking about? He hadn't been paying attention, too focused on Ivan and his problems...

"Oui, I use handcuffs sometimes with Arthur. He won't admit it but he secretly loves a little bondage. Right, cher?" Wait, what the hell had he missed? When did the conversation take a turn down pervy lane? Holy shit who let Papa change the subject to this!

"FRANCIS! Shut the bloody hell up!" Arthur ordered, his face flushing in mortification. Why was his husband so freely speaking about this in front of their previous boss? And the children for God sake!

"Oh, Luddy loves bondage! He has all these DVDs and he has a box in his closet full of handcuffs and whips and toys—." Feliciano quickly agreed, only stopping when a large hand covered his mouth. The stoic German was beginning to turn red, hating how his boyfriend could be so honest. No one needed to know that! Had he any decency?

"Really? See Arthur! Its nothing strange. Other people do it as well." Francis pointed out. Usually when he tried to do something Arthur accused him of being a pervert but this proved that he wasn't the only one who enjoyed having fun in bed.

"I WILL STAB YOU IN THE FACE!" Arthur cried, holding his face in his hands to shield his last scraps of dignity. This always happened. When would he learn? He was going to kill Francis, for real this time!

"Bondage is sex when one partner is restrained, correct?" Ivan whispered to Alfred for conformation. So, many couples did it? Fascinating, he'd have to try it with Alfred at some point. It would be so interesting to have the vibrant free American helpless in his grasp. It made him excited at the very thought, if only their relationship was at that level already... Still, they had been progressing quite nicely. Hopefully, soon they would be able to consummate it.

"Don't say such embarrassing things! And yeah that's what it is. God I hope they change the subject."

"Why? This is very educational."

"Educational? What the hell did I say! Never listen to Papa!" Alfred reminded, his face getting redder.

"But what about the Italian one."

"No! Don't listen to anyone! You'll get the wrong idea."

"Then how do I know when we can advance our relationship?" Ivan snapped in frustration. He'd much rather be listening to the adult conversation than Alfred's demands. He could be learning!

"When... When I say so! Why are you so obsessed with sex!" Alfred hissed, his voice getting louder without him realizing.

"Because then we will be bonded in the most personal way. You will be mine and I will be yours. And you will never be able to leave me." I wont ever be alone again.

Alfred softened slightly, "Look Ivan, I don't even know anything about you! How am I suppose to... to do anything like that when you won't even tell me anything?"

"Why does this always turn back to my past! It is none of your business Bonnefoy!" Ivan snarled, his nerves racing. His past had been brought up way to many times this day for him to be comfortable. The voices were getting louder.

"It is so my business! I have a right to know about what happened to you!" Alfred shouted back as the table quieted around him. He didn't pay them any attention, too focused on his growing anger with the other.

"If I do not want to disclose it then I will not!"

"God, why are you so fuckin—"

"Alfred!" Arthur interrupted furiously, the cursing being the last straw to this completely inappropriate outburst. Had his boy gone mad? They had company!

"I didn't do anything!" Alfred snapped automatically, whirling around to face his father. He was fucking angry and he didn't want to deal with him right now.

"Don't raise your voice at me! Now be quiet and eat like a civilized human being." He demanded, eying his son with a harsh glare.

"Stop making fun of me! I'm not an idiot!"

"I didn't say that! Don't you ever listen? Boy, shut up and eat."

Alfred sent him a glare before scooting his chair back angrily, the noise of it scraping across the ground deafening in the tense silence. He stomped off, climbing up the stairs and slamming his door shut as loud as he could. Arthur let out a deep sigh as the table sat there in silence.

"I..I should go talk to him." Matthew murmured, going to stand up when Arthur laid a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Don't. Stay and eat. If he wishes to act like a spoiled child, let him." He said his tone exhausted but stern. He couldn't believe Alfred would act this way in front of company. He had tried so hard to raise a proper gentleman.

Matthew bit his lip but did as he was told, sitting back down as conversation slowly returned. Ivan shot the Englishman a cold glare. He had no right to yell at Alfred that way. Half of the problem was his own fault. He was an absolute horrible father he finally decided, something he should correct. Shouldn't he go up and apologize? He should at least let Matvey go.

"Ivan." A voice whispered and he turned his head to see Matthew looking at him pleadingly. "Go check on Alfred. Dad will probably let you go if you just leave." There was worry in his eyes and Ivan nodded. Putting his fork down, he left the room without a word as Francis began speaking of some sexual exploit of his. He didn't care to listen anymore.

He ascended the stairs and walked over to Alfred's closed door. Without knocking he opened it, finding the blond sprawled on his bed, hugging a pillow to his chest.

"Mattie?" Alfred asked pathetically, hopefully, lifting his head. His brother always comforted him after he and his father had a fight. He always made everything better.

"Nyet." Alfred blinked and didn't look up, burying his face in the pillow. It wasn't Mattie. It was Ivan.

"Why are you here?"

"You're English father would not let Matvey leave." Ivan responded truthfully, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"He can be such a dick." Alfred spat, his arms clenching the pillow tighter.

"You fight a lot."

"He's disappointed in me. I think he thinks I'm a failure." Alfred mumbled into his pillow, he wanted a hug. Usually Mattie knew to give him one but Ivan didn't. He didn't really want to ask because it would be even more pathetic. God, he hated it when he felt this way. Whenever he fought with Dad he always felt like shit, not that the old man would ever notice...not that he would ever care.

Ivan frowned, coming closer to the moping blond. "I do not believe you are a failure."

Alfred snorted, "Thanks." It didn't alleviate his mood.

"Why is that not enough?" Because it should be enough. His opinion should matter above everyone else's.

"Because he's my dad, Ivan. I want him to be proud of me and he never is." He hissed, shielding his eyes with his pillow because fuck they were getting watery. "Didn't you ever feel that way?" Then again... Ivan had made pretty clear that he only harbored negative feelings toward his father.

"I would never had wanted to make him proud." Ivan spat, shivering at even the thought. Why had the conversation suddenly turned to this. Didn't Alfred understand he did not want to talk about this at all?

Alfred sat up slightly, "Well, isn't there anyone you want to be proud of you?"

Ivan paused and his eyes softened as he thought of his lost siblings, "Katyusha, my elder sister." She was the main reason he was here, she was the reason he tried in school.

"Well, there you go. It... It just hurts when all he does is complain about me or tell me I'm doing something wrong... I'm being such a girl right now." He laughed humorlessly, staring at the pillow in his lap. Whoever knew he'd be talking about such personal stuff with Ivan of all people?

Ivan wasn't the best comforter. Katyusha had been in charge of that. Whenever he was sad, she would hold him tightly to her chest, say it would be all right and kiss him on his forehead.

God he missed his sisters.

Alfred felt his head being tilted up by the others gloved hand and he stared into those violet eyes full of secrets. Secrets the other seemed intent to keep from him. When Ivan kissed him, he kissed back eagerly, almost desperately. He looped his arms around the others neck, pulling him closer.

Ivan grinned inwardly in happiness at how responsive Alfred had become. How he willingly opened his mouth to accommodate his tongue and eagerly battled with his own. The feeling was absolutely wonderful.

They parted for breath, but it was short as Alfred dived back in for more. His glasses were pushed up painfully between them so Ivan rectified the problem by placing them on the night stand beside them. Alfred looked so much younger without his glasses, so much more innocent. His blue eyes shone without anything to hinder their light.

Alfred finally pulled away, his cheeks flushed and his lips slick with saliva. "I don't want to do anything sexual." He stated firmly, if not breathlessly. "Not until you tell me why you are afraid of blood. Why you have so many scars on your back. Why you left your sisters in Russia. Why you hate your father."

Ivan stared into those deep, concerned, trusting blue eyes and closed his own. He licked his suddenly dry lips, his whole body tensing. He flinched when he felt something on his cheek and he opened his eyes. The same light blue stared up at him, a hand reaching up to brush some of his pale blond hair away from his dark violet eyes.

"Please, tell me." He whispered pleadingly and for some reason, the words fell out of Ivan's mouth before he could stop them. Words he had never had the courage to utter nor to accept. They fell into a jumbled heap before him, landing heavily on the others chest below him. It was too late to stuff them back in as they both stared at the confession with wide eyes.

"I killed Father."

Ooh, I think I got chills! Lol

Next chapter... Well you can probably guess what Ivan's going to have to do now! Alfred's finally going to know! Its so exciting, or at least, for me it is.

Did I mention that you guys are amazing? I mean more than 600 reviews! I could never have imagined! You guys are way too nice to me.
I really hope this chapter is good enough for you guys! Sometimes I feel inadequate... It astounds so many people are actually enjoying this story. This story that came to me in a weird ass dream over the summer and slowly turned into this!
A story thats constantly evolving into something more complex as I write it, though I know how it will eventually end.
Anyway, I just want to thank you all again for sticking with me and keeping me motivated.

See you next week.