Slash sex in this chapter. Turn back now if you wish.

The bodies were stuffed into a variety of garbage bags Alfred had left in the bottom of the duffel bag, and a trash heap further down the river provided an adequate hiding place. Sheltered from the main road, Ivan was able to dig a small depression in which they placed the bags, laying the garbage back over them to create a makeshift grave. Alfred scowled at the dirt on his hands, but Ivan simply shook his head at the American's ridiculousness and shouldered the duffel bag, weaving his way through the streets once more to lead his companion back to their small apartment. The crowds had thinned considerably by this point, letting their soiled appearance go relatively unnoticed, and finally they reached the small wooden door that represented their abode, Ivan setting the duffel bag to one side while Alfred stretched in relief.

"Back home. Back here, again."

"You sound disappointed." Ivan remarked, opening the closet to begin hanging his pipe, the shovel, and various pieces of Alfred's equipment up on small hooks. "I thought you liked this place."

"I do. It's perfect. I…hm." Alfred shrugged, approaching his companion. "It means a lot to me, here. This place, as you call it."

Ivan didn't reply, simply concentrating on his work as Alfred drew closer. Eventually, he felt Alfred's hand on his shoulder, and let his hands drop, going still as Alfred slowly twined his arms around the Russian's neck to let them rest against his chest.

"Alfred."

"Ivan."

With a slow grin, Alfred tugged Ivan backwards, pulling the taller man away from the closet so that they ended up in the middle of the room. They stood there for a brief moment, unmoving, before Ivan carefully moved to face his companion, placing his hands on Alfred's waist.

"You know, it's amazing you haven't gotten that jacket all bloody yet."

"Hydrogen peroxide is a wonderful thing. And I take good care of it." Shifting against him, Ivan moved to take off the heavy garment, tossing it over the back of a chair before returning his attention to Alfred. He grinned suddenly, holding up one hand, then carefully traced over Alfred's lips with his thumb, leaving faint red streaks from the yet-undried blood. "As I take good care of you."

"Oh, shut up. I do all the work in this arrangement. You just talk and talk-"

"Ah, Alfred, again with the utter lack of finesse. Have all our excursions been for nothing?"

"I'm not sure it's the outside activities we have so much to worry about, Vanya." Alfred mirrored his grin, reaching up to take Ivan's collar before kissing him suddenly, pulling him back towards the open door of the bedroom. Ivan eagerly complied, keeping one hand on Alfred's waist as he stepped forward, then reached behind him to carefully pull the door closed as they nearly fell inside the small room.

"I have told you not to call me Vanya, little Alfred." With a wry smile, he pulled at Alfred to lean back against the wall, letting his companion press against him.

"Hey, if you can call me 'little', I get to call you whatever the hell I want." Placing his hands against the wall, Alfred frowned slightly as he looked to Ivan, eventually moving to place his hand at the Russian's collar. "Am I still all bloody?"

"Oh, yes. All streaked and tattooed…" Ivan nodded as he mumbled, reaching up to run his hands into Alfred's lightly colored hair before tracing the trails of blood with one finger as Alfred began to undo the first few of his buttons, pulling the fabric away from Ivan's skin before making a quiet noise of impatience. Ivan glanced down at him, slightly surprised, then grasped Alfred's triceps tightly to push the other man back, leading them to the bed before pushing Alfred back onto the top sheet. Propping himself on his elbows, Alfred opened his mouth to speak before glancing down at his resting place with a shrug. Ivan grinned, taking a step back in order to remove his shirt completely before balling it up and tossing it aside. "See. I do not forget everything."

"Yeah, well-so you remembered to change the sheets. Good for you." Alfred made a show of rolling his eyes, but sat up to copy Ivan in order to set his t-shirt to one side.

"Too bad. I liked that shirt."

"You say that every week. I'll wear it again, you know. Don't have your finesse, remember?"

"Ah, right. The constant rotation of all your blood-stained shirts…do you ever replace them?"

"Nope. No point." As he spoke, Alfred began undoing the clasp of his belt, sliding it off before working open his fly. Ivan watched him for a moment, a light smile on his face, then drew closer as Alfred stretched back along the bed. Fumbling with the nightstand, Alfred finally managed to retrieve a tube of clear gel, handing the bottle to Ivan before adjusting his position.

Ivan paused, setting the bottle to one side before moving to pull Alfred's pants down and away, quickly doing the same with his boxers to leave Alfred naked on the bed. Alfred simply grinned darkly, shifting to face Ivan more completely, then glanced at Ivan's crotch. Taking the hint, Ivan raised an eyebrow before moving to undo his own fly, unbuttoning the clasp and momentarily letting gravity pull the fabric down.

However, still clad in his boxers, Ivan placed a knee between Alfred's legs against the bed before taking the bottle in one hand to open it gingerly, coating the fingers of his free hand with the lube inside before running the fingers down the inside of Alfred's thigh. Alfred frowned slightly, lifting his hips to meet Ivan's hand, then whimpered slightly as Ivan finally reached his hardening member.

"Complaining, Alfred? This is different."

"So? Sue me. Get going already." Alfred muttered, shifting against the bed.

Ivan simply shook his head, smiling faintly, then carefully ran his hand along Alfred's erection, teasing the head lightly with his thumb before pulling away. Alfred let his hips fall back against the sheets, beginning to pant lightly, then closed his eyes as Ivan's slick fingers came to tease at his entrance.

"T-Tell me…what I look like."

"You…hm. The blood is still fresh." As he spoke, he touched a reddish stain near Alfred's waist, trailing his fingers across the skin to create ruddy streaks.

"I know that, I can smell it."

"Hot and red, rusty and bitter-"

"Yeah, yeah, besides that!"

"I can still see your ribs beneath your skin….you should do something about that."

"I don't much care, Ivan…" Alfred leaned his head back, biting his lip, as Ivan began tracing the outline of his sternum with one finger, still slick with both the lube and moistened blood. Their talking quickly ceased as Ivan made his way over the entirety of Alfred's chest, then moved to cup his chin as he positioned himself on the bed. One hand moved to push down the last remaining piece of fabric, Ivan's boxers, then came to rest at Alfred's waist, propping him up while his free hand returned to its ministrations at Alfred's entrance.

After a brief moment, Alfred gasped as Ivan entered him quickly, a rush of heat shooting through the both of them. Opening his eyes wide, he glanced down at the man between his legs, expression hovering between an eager grin and a horrified scowl.

"God, Ivan, that hurt! What are you-"

"You still complain, malyutka?" Ivan grinned predatorily, positioning himself above Alfred to continue thrusting into him. "You like this, the pain, the blood, the scream-"

As if on cue, Alfred shuddered visibly and reached up to pull Ivan closer, bucking his hips upward. "Damn you, Ivan."

"And damn you, little devil."

With a mixture of bites and kisses, the friction between them grew ever stronger, Alfred finally releasing across their abomens with a tortured moan. Ivan followed soon after, bowing his head against Alfred's chest, then paused to catch his breath as the world came back into focus. Eventually, Alfred reached down to shove him away, wincing slightly as Ivan pulled out of him. He slowly made his way off the side of the bed, standing shakily, then waved vaguely in Ivan's direction.

"I'm gonna take a shower. You…do what you do." As he disappeared into the other room, Ivan carefully stood, pulling back the top sheet, then moved to reclaim his boxers before climbing into the bed. Eventually, as his eyes adjusted to the small amount of light coming from the bathroom, and the rhythmic sound of the water running, he fell into a drowsy sleep, only barely noting as the water shut off, the light flickered out, and a naked body came to rest beside him beneath the covers. With the muted sounds of the drunken city filtering in from outside, the strange pair fell asleep, warmed by the other and high off their own ambrosia.