Ivan: it's difficult

Alfred: just blow air idk use your teeth

Ivan: my tongue hurts

Alfred: my tongue would hurt too if i deep-throated it every time i say the letter L. russian is weird

Ivan: ;( english is weird

Alfred: i mean yeah lol

Alfred: maybe u should ask my boss he's ACTUALLY english and he says his TH sound all proper. I just know that in spanish it's weirder

Ivan: send another video plz (:´Д`)

Alfred: ok one sec

Alfred: i can't actually picture u saying this to someone though i just

Alfred: sent

Ivan grinned, turned the volume down just in case his sisters had woken up already, and pressed play. It was 2:30 AM and he was trying to learn how to pronounce the word "thot" correctly. In the video, Alfred was slumped over in his bed with a double chin, comic character pajamas, messy hair, and no glasses.

Ivan: has anyone ever told you that you are beautiful

Alfred: …

Alfred: …

Alfred: nah they usually tell me i look like shalissa

Ivan: ALFRED!

Alfred was not that familiar with flirting, or dating, or anything romantic, really. He had visions sometimes of a happy life with someone he loved, but his past relationships hadn't lasted more than a couple months, and he moved through fads and obsessions faster than what was probably necessary for his emotional health. Interacting with Ivan—albeit over text—instilled both fear and excitement into him, which had taken some getting used to. Therefore, Alfred had decided to call in a wingman to help advise him, distract him from his stress, and save him from a weekend of boredom, which was how it came to pass that Kiku Honda was sitting on Alfred's couch in a robe on a Sunday morning, holding a game controller in one hand and a thermos of tea he had brought over in the other.

(Interestingly enough, Alfred and Kiku had dated for a while when they had attended college together. Also interesting was the fact that it was probably, like, against the law for Alfred to date Ivan. Alfred knew the whole situation was a major mess, but in the morning decided that, oops! It was too late to do anything about it now.)

"They're behind you," warned Kiku, dancing his spaceship out of the way on the TV screen.

"Shit. I thought we lost them." Alfred's ship narrowly dodged an alien blast-ray. "The little buggers came back for more."

"Do we take the north or east wormhole?" Kiku questioned, tapping his thumb over the control buttons like he did when he was frustrated. "I have forgot. It has been too long."

"Try the north. I'll hold them off your back."

"You have taken too much damage already!"

"Then, man, I will die a hero's death."

They were playing STARSCRAPERZ!, the video game they had designed in college. It was their second attempt. They had both perished in the first wave of their first attempt.

Kiku blew a short breath out of his nose which Alfred recognized as laughter. Then he inhaled sharply. "Alfred, the north wormhole leads right back to the green nebula! We have already collected the stars there!"

Alfred cursed again. "Oh, worm!"

"What?"

"Quick! Go back and try the right one—ah! Whelp. I'm dead."

Alfred's half of the screen went blank, and the wacky electronic beats they had installed as a musical backdrop intensified. Kiku frowned in determination and set his tea down on the coffee table, clutching the controller with both hands. "Do you remember where the aliens spawn next?"

The object of STARSCRAPERZ! was to teleport yourself via wormhole throughout different-colored nebulas in space to "collect stars." The more stars you collected, the more firepower you had to defeat the evil aliens that would spawn in waves and hunt you down. Winning a level would boost your popularity as a starfighter back at the Academy base, and thus allow you to purchase better ships and weapons. It was basically interstellar Pacman with an Ender's Game-esque twist.

"They'll come out of the blue nebula and attack from the right." Alfred wiped at a smudge on his glasses. "Just hang in there. I'll help. You've got this. You're going to save the world. You're going to save all of us."

"Or I will die trying." Kiku soared into the purple nebula and started gathering more stars. Alfred watched on in intense concentration. There were probably thirty seconds left before the buggers found him.

Sure enough, a squadron of attackers entered from the east wormhole. Luckily, Kiku had already finished gathering enough stars. "Here is where fate will be decided," he whispered, trundling forward to meet the aliens head-on.

"GO!" Alfred yelled, pumping his fist.

Kiku dodged the first blast, but took a hit point on the second. He returned fire of his own and knocked out the offender while Alfred screamed on and threw pillows in the background. "How close am I to death?"

Alfred checked Kiku's health bar. It was...despairingly low. "Oh. Yolo, dude."

Kiku exhaled. He was really frustrated, now. He didn't say anything, just kept blasting. He managed to take out four more of the aliens before misplacing his movements and getting eliminated by a rogue blast. Alfred shrieked and collapsed in agony.

Kiku set the controller down with grace. "At least we are getting back used to it."

Alfred lifted his head out of a pillow. "Wanna try again?"

"Maybe later. I admit I am surprised at the ingenuity we had." Kiku took another sip of tea and then hugged a pillow of his own.

"Wish I had that motivation now," Alfred agreed, staring at the ceiling.

There was a quiet pause. Then, sensing the mood, Kiku asked, "Does your work not motivate you?"

Alfred heaved a huge sigh. "I mean, yeah, it does. Yeah. But I still feel...restless. Especially lately."

"...You still want to go to NASA? I remember you used to want—"

"I guess. And I also like the thought of being a cop like Matt, or doing more field agent work, or travel, or acting, or gardening, or making more video games, or even selling shady junk in a truck on the road like Yao Wang. At my job now all I do is sit and listen and—well, I can't really tell you."

Kiku pondered for a second, then, in a perfect therapist's voice said, "Tell me more about Ivan, please." Alfred's heart skipped a beat. "You said he's Russian and you met him through work, correct?"

"Oh. Yeah. Yeah, he's...yeah." Alfred was at a sudden loss for words, which didn't happen often, especially not when he wanted to use them. "We've been talkin'."

Kiku looked slightly uncomfortable, as if he didn't want to press for more, but felt the need to in order to help Alfred. "And you do like him?"

"Yeah. And he likes me too, so that's good." He laughed lightly. "We're going to go out for lunch tomorrow. It's, like, a date."

"The FBI allows you to do this?"

Alfred laughed again. Nervously, this time. Let's play a game called How Much I Can Give Away Without Committing Treason. "Well, actually, he's not FBI. Um. It's complicated."

"I agree," stated Kiku. "But if you do like him and you know he likes you, why are you so worried?"

Alfred didn't answer. He buried his face in a pillow and waited for Kiku to connect the dots, which was probably selfish, but whatever. It was screwed anyway.

With polite caution, Kiku asked, "What is Ivan's job? FBI-related, I assume?" No answer. "Is he a police officer or forensic scientist or politician or…"

"He's an immigrant gardener."

"I am confused. You said you met him through work?"

Alfred nodded. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the TV screen. It said GAME OVER.

Kiku took another sip of tea. He was processing, Alfred knew. The room went quiet for a second, the rumble of the AC and the video music fading behind the clamor of thought exchange within their heads. Finally, Alfred blurted out, "I'm just worried about what will happen if I start to like him more and more. Because eventually I'm going to have to tell my team and explain the time we've been spending together and it won't be good."

Kiku nodded slowly. Was he understanding? His composed expression didn't give anything away. "How long do you have to tell them?"

Alfred fell back against the couch. "I've already failed to report some of our meetings. They don't know we text. And Ivan—oh hell." He dug his hands into his hair. "Ivan has no idea. I'll never be able to tell Ivan. God, this is such a huge trainwreck and I know it's a huge trainwreck and I still have no idea what to do!"

Kiku lightly touched his arm. Finally, Alfred looked over. "Do you know for certain that if you continue seeing him you will like him more and more?"

Alfred gulped. He hadn't thought that far into the future yet. His present-time mentality was probably what had gotten him into this sticky situation in the first place. "Maybe."

Kiku put his tea down and put his hands together like a detective. Dust captured in the morning light glimmered off the sleeves of his robe. "So. You really like Ivan, but you cannot tell the FBI. You are in the FBI, but you cannot tell Ivan. Ivan is part of your FBI work, and you cannot tell anyone. You are closing yourself off on all sides of your life and have thus become restless and anxious."

Alfred nodded decisively. "'Bout right, doc. And all that's before even mentioning the memes or the mafia."

Kiku seemed vexed for a second, but shook his head and pressed on. "Have you told this to anyone else yet? Your brother, perhaps?"

"Um." When they had talked yesterday, Alfred had kind of ignored Matthew's concerned questions by pretending to be distracted by his movie. "No."

"Then this is what I suggest. You should either end your engagement with Ivan now, or tell someone what has been happening. I suggest the latter. I know I would be fired instantly if I withheld information from my superiors."

That was not a very happy dichotomy. Alfred didn't like it. There had to be a third option better than doing nothing and letting the whole situation descend into chaos. "What if I just kidnap Ivan, fake our deaths, and move to Alaska?"

The corner of Kiku's mouth perked up just the slightest, and then straightened itself out again. "I do not think that sounds like a good plan."

Alfred chucked his pillow to the floor. "You're right. I could never live as a humble fisherman in an igloo. It would be cold and we would need electricity and WiFi. Hmm. What about Puerto Rico? Oh, wait."

Kiku finished off his tea peacefully. "Do you need more time to think?"

Sassy. "Thanks for listening, man." Alfred fidgeted again, once more at a loss for what to say. The AC had gone off. He was hungry. He probably needed to check his phone for another text from Ivan. "I'll…I'll come up with of something. Just...promise you won't tell anyone." Alfred still couldn't detect if Kiku had understood the implications that Ivan was Alfred's subject, and was unsure if he needed to say something else to assure the man that everything would be okay.

Kiku nodded sagely. "I am glad you trust me."

"Right now, you're about the only person I can trust," he retorted. Alfred still had no idea what to do. He didn't want to end what he had with Ivan premature, and he didn't want to tell Arthur, for then he knew it would be over. Alfred was past the point of pretending to be scoping out Ivan for research purposes only. Besides—Ivan was innocent! So really, there was nothing wrong with seeing him. He could just tell.

"You have lots of people you can trust," Kiku assured him. "You are good enough to be in a federal intelligence agency. Trust yourself."

Alfred was touched. If only Kiku knew. He wished so badly that he could tell Kiku. That he could tell Kirkland, that he could tell Ivan, that he could get Ivan's name off that darned list somehow. He had long since forgotten why Ivan was on the list anyway. It was all prejudice and speculation, he assumed. Mr. FBI would know better. It had only been a week but everything was moving too fast and Alfred was sick of secrets.

He remembered the fortune cookie from a lifetime ago. Instead of acting as a foreboding reminder, however, the thing only distracted him by making him think of food and want to eat. Alfred was, like, perpetually hungry. His breakfast of champions had been a bowl of soggy Fruit Loops and bad coffee. "Wanna have lunch?" he interjected. "I can grill us some cheese."

Kiku stared at him for a second, then nodded once more. He was so cute when he was agreeing to food. "Well, if you don't mind. And...would you happen to have any tea?"

"That was about it, I think. I'll listen to any tea you want to spill now, though."

"What?"

"Oh. You meant—oh, no, I hate tea. Sorry. That shit goes in the harbor."

"Of course."

They ate lunch on the couch over a classic Mario Kart tournament, having decided that they would master STARSCRAPERS! again later. (Alfred won narrowly due to a cleverly-used blue shell in Coconut Mall.) Kiku wanted revenge, so they moved on to other games, digging deep into Alfred's stockpile and developing headaches by the time the afternoon sun began to press at the windows. But Alfred was feeling pretty good. He had successfully avoided checking his phone and thinking about work for at least four hours. By the time they finally got around to STARSCRAPERZ!, he was relaxed and optimistic once more.

He and Kiku started off on a good note, staying in the same nebula to gather stars instead of splitting up like they had done before. That way, they could survive the first wave without batting an eye.

"And if the second wave comes from the blue nebula, then we must get the stars there first and move on to the others one by one," suggested Kiku.

Alfred shook his controller determinedly. "Good plan. Then when we're done we can come to them."

"But we have to move fast." They finished up in the blue nebula and soared into the purple. Collecting stars went much faster when they worked together, but it did mean less firepower for each of them. The second wave of aliens caught up with them in the red nebula.

"I'll take 'em on bottom, you get the top," Alfred commanded, driving his ship forward.

"...Let's finish this," agreed Kiku. He fired the first shot.

Alfred took some heavy hits at first, but was able to clear off five attackers in less than a minute. Kiku had to backtrack to avoid blasts, but managed to kill off the aliens before he was cornered. They whooped loudly as the LEVEL COMPLETE! screen flashed before them.

"Man, we're geniuses," Alfred declared, high-fiving his friend just a little too excitedly. "Third wave, who? Let's do this."

They lost to the the third wave within two minutes.

"Maybe we should practice more," Kiku said, carefully setting his controller down. "I am getting used to it. May I take the game home?"

Alfred stood up and stretched. "Yeah, yeah, dude. That was a blast. I'm pumped. Bet you'll have it mastered by tomorrow. Might be easier on singleplayer?"

"I don't know," Kiku admitted. "I will have a lot of work when Monday comes. A bug was discovered on one of our computers on Friday, and some strange security footage, as well. One of the indoor cameras was broken. They want me to fix it."

Alfred touched his toes. "Oh, crap. That does sound weird. Bet it was that creepy elevator guy you were talking about." He laughed.

Kiku shook his head as he popped the game disc from the console. "No, I am sure he was a maintenance worker. Cameras malfunction all the time. It will just be difficult to fix the bug."

"Well, good luck. I'll swing by if I can." Alfred did a single jumping jack. "Are you leaving?"

"Yes, I have to feed my cat. Thank you for today, Alfred, and for lunch." Kiku gathered his things, which were only his empty thermos and car keys. He still wore his robe and his polite, passive, yet calculated expression. "I also wish you the best of luck. I know I am not in your position, but whoever Ivan is, I hope he is kind and understanding, and things will turn out okay."

"Me too," Alfred sighed. "Thanks, man." He paused. "Wanna hug?"

"I suppose." Kiku carefully clasped his hands behind Alfred's back and leaned in. Alfred wasn't too much of a touchy-feely guy, and had once yelled out of surprise when Francis, the MIA Frenchman on the gray division, had tried to give him the double cheek kisses in greeting, but hugs and snuggles from people he cared about felt very good. Absently, he wondered what a hug from Ivan would feel like. Probably great, considering how soft his hair and skin looked and how tall he was and maybe he was cold but they could be warm together as long as Ivan kept those bright yellow dirty garden gloves out of the picture...Alfred felt stupid.

He waved Kiku goodbye from the apartment building's elevators. And so his friend disappeared into the city.

For a second, Alfred stood alone in the hall, all the energy suddenly sucked out of him now that Kiku was gone. He leaned against the wall, thinking for a second. Then he walked back to his number, walked back into his bedroom, picked up his phone, and texted Ivan.

Yekaterina and Natalya had just begun making dinner when Ivan's phone buzzed with a message. He set down his sunflower's watering can to read it.

Alfred: what's cookin good lookin?

A yell from the kitchen. "Ivan! Get off your phone and come chop the carrots!"

Ivan: katya's beet soup special (°-°) are we still on for tomorrow?

Alfred's texting bubble popped up a few times and then went away. Ivan got scared for a second, wondering what was taking him so long to respond. He clicked his phone off and entered the kitche to be quickly assaulted by old, familiar smells. He set his phone in front of him while chopping the carrots. Alfred finally texted back within three minutes.

Alfred: where did u wanna go?

Ivan breathed a sigh of relief. He could have just said 'yes.'

Ivan: anywhere u want ;)

"Who are you texting?" Natalya rounded the counter and tried to peer over the knife to see Ivan's phone. He quickly turned it off.

"My boss. I am making sure I am off work this week." A smooth reply. Ivan turned away to toss the carrots in the pot.

Alfred: no u choose something cuz i would suggest mcdank's

Ivan: what

Alfred: u know...

Alfred: mickey d's

Alfred: mcdick's

Ivan: we are not eating there

Alfred: maccas

Alfred: mcdo

Alfred: golden arches

Ivan: (_) stop this

"Are you done with the knife, Ivan? I need it."

Alfred: then wherrr

Ivan: what about a picnic? in the same place as friday?

Alfred: oh i like that. and takeout? Like yao's?

"Ivan! Can you wash off the cutting board?"

Ivan: how about we each bring food for us to eat instead

Ivan: i can bring you some of katya's soup

Alfred: interesting

"Where do you keep the large spoons, Ivan? I can't find them."

Alfred: no clue what i'll make but i like this idea

Ivan: XD

Ivan: it is a date

"IVAN!"

e.t. - katy

This is filler-y and vacuum-packed with foreshadowing more horrible than in A Quiet Place (saw it last night and wow I adore the premise), I know, but it'll kick into gear next chapter. Writing their little texting chats is my guilty pleasure.

FANART ALERT! EVERYONE: derevosky (derevoskymusor on tumblr) HAS DRAWN FRANNY AND GIL FROM CHAPTER 6, AND MY WHAT AN ABSOLUTE ICON. GO SEE IT NOW LIVE. YOU WON'T WANNA MISS.