APH: My Great Famine essay can wait!
Title: My Poor Heart Aches (Part Two)
Author: grosse_averse
Characters: Matthew (Canada), Ivan (Russia), Alfred (America); appearances by Ukraine and Belarus // Russia/America + some mentions PruCan
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU The only thing Ivan wants is to get to know Alfred better. The only thing Alfred wants is to punch the goddamn Russki in the face. Based on a prompt from 30quotes.
Notes: In the same universe as I Don't Really Know How To Tell You This.
Prompt: "This guy's a restraining order waiting to happen."
Part One
Thursday
Arthur jumped when Alfred came storming through the front door of the pub, not even bothering to say hello before heading immediately for the staircase at the back.
"What's going o - " he managed to get out before Alfred was gone.
Matt came in a few seconds later, quieter, keeping his body suspiciously tilted away from Arthur like he had been doing for the past couple of days.
"What's going on with your brother?" Arthur directed the question instead to Matt.
"Er...he got paired up for a class project with this guy he doesn't like." Matt explained hesitantly, glancing up at the ceiling. "I'll go talk to him, Dad, don't worry."
Before Arthur could say anything else, Matt was off towards the stairs too. The Englishman sighed.
Since when had his kids started parenting themselves?
And why did Matt have his collar turned up?
"Al." Matt knocked on his brother's door. "Al, talk to me, seriously. It's not that bad..."
Alfred flung his door open, blue eyes fierce. "Not that bad?!" he repeated. "Matt, Ivan is a weird kid who started stalking me for no apparent reason other than "he wants to get to know me", and now I have to work with him on an English project! Do you know what his face looked like when the teacher paired us up? Like he'd won the fucking lottery."
Matt, lost for words, motioned weakly with his hands. "M-maybe he just really does want to get to know you better?" he suggested. "He's just going about it the wrong way."
Alfred snorted. "Yeah, he is." he agreed. "I don't know who told him in Russia that stalking is a good idea, but he needs to learn it now."
"Al, maybe working with him will be good for you." Matt suggested. "I mean, maybe this is all a misunderstanding. You don't know anything about him, so you can't really make a judgement - "
"Mattie." Alfred looked him over incredulously. "I don't care if it turns out he's not even a communist, that kid is a jerkface!"
"Are you living in the 60s? What's with you and communists?" Matt asked, rolling his eyes in exasperation. Alfred scowled, then grabbed his brother's collar and pulled it down away from his neck.
"Why don't you and your pale-ass boyfriend go suck on each other's necks for a bit and leave me to be the hero?" he proclaimed, then slammed the door in Matt's face.
"Idiot." Matt breathed, running a thumb absently over the skin of his neck.
His brother started playing Radiohead in a fashion that was decidedly too pubescent to comment on, so Matt left him alone and went to his room to play with Kuma.
In retrospect, Alfred kicked himself for not playing Radiohead louder. It would have meant a lecture from Arthur later ("no one wants to hear that garbage when they are in our pub!"), but it would have meant he wouldn't have heard the rocks hitting his bedroom window.
His first thought was that maybe Gilbert got his window mixed up with Matt's (it had happened before, much to Alfred's dismay). So he switched his music off and went to the window to tell the pale-ass creep that "you've got the wrong window and don't even bother trying to find the right one because I'm not afraid to get my dad's shotgun!"
Instead he cursed and nearly hit his head on the window frame.
Ivan was standing below his window with a handful of small pebbles. "Ah, this is the right room!" he said. "Good, I was worried I would get your brother instead."
"What are you doing?!" Alfred demanded. "Seriously, Braginski, if you don't get outta here I'm going to kick your - "
"So loud!" Ivan marveled innocently. "I am here to talk about work, yes? We have a...project? So you will come over to my house on Friday and we will work there!"
Oh, because that was what Alfred always wanted to do, be alone with his stalker in the stalker's house. "Why can't you come over to my house?" he asked, adding sarcastically, "It's not like you don't know where it is."
If possible, Ivan's eyes brightened. "Ah!" he chuckled. "You want me to come over to your house! I am so flattered!"
"Whoa, no!" Alfred panicked, back pedaling. "No way in hell, I'll come over to your house then!"
He instantly realized what had just happened as Ivan gave him a sweet smile. "That is why I like you Alfred - you are so reasonable!" he praised. "You will walk home with me after school, yes? My house is couple of minutes from school. I will meet you by your locker!"
"How do you know where my - " Alfred began, but Ivan simply waved and walked away. Just like that.
Alfred realized that he had just agreed to go over to a weirdo Russian's house in a space of less than five minutes, while hanging out of his bedroom window.
Fuck this.
Friday
Ivan was so close over Alfred's shoulder that Alfred could feel the Russian's breath in his ear.
This should not be affecting Alfred so much, but it was. No one else he'd ever met at this god-damn school had been so...upfront, so creepily persistent that they managed to get their way every single time. It unnerved Alfred and it also made him angry.
"Do you mind?" he snapped at Ivan, stilling his hand. Ivan chuckled.
"I am sorry," he said sincerely. "I am trying to see what you are writing."
"I am writing," Alfred ground out, "what we decided I was going to write. Have you ever heard of personal space?"
"Yes, I have heard of it." Ivan agreed pleasantly, sitting back a little in his chair and letting Alfred continued writing. Their English teacher had given them a free work period in class, in order to prepare their analysis on a scene from Othello, and Ivan had insisted on scooting his chair very close to Alfred to watch him write down their thoughts on why (as Alfred put it), "Othello was a paranoid jack ass".
"So maybe you should start respecting it." Alfred muttered feebly. "Seriously, what did they teach you in Russia, Braginski? How to freak people out?"
Ivan considered this. "I like to do the talking with people," he explained. "I like talking and laughing so I like to be around people all the time so I do not feel lonely."
This sort of confession from such a previously-menacing figure, took Alfred aback. "Well...I mean..." he grasped desperately for something. "Jeez, there has to be a line..."
"Have I crossed it?" Ivan tilted his head innocently. "You must tell me or I will not know."
Alfred felt a tic in his jaw start up. "For fuck's sake." he growled, returning to his writing. "You are so weird!"
After school Alfred gathered his things, told his brother he'd be home for dinner, and followed Ivan out of the school towards his house.
When Ivan's hand brushed Alfred's, the blonde boy ignored it.
When their hands brushed again, Alfred crossed his arms over his chest and continued walking. Ivan did not look affected by this rejection.
"We are almost there!" he assured Alfred, adding, "You will be staying for dinner, yes?"
Half of Alfred wanted to, since Arthur would be cooking dinner tonight. The other half immediately reminded him that this was Ivan. "No." he said quickly. "My dad - wants me home for dinner."
Ivan frowned. "Oh." he said. "All right. We will be quick, then."
Alfred waited awkwardly as Ivan pulled his keys from his jacket pocket. The Braginski house looked the same as all the other lower middle-class houses in Eadem - a small brick bungalow, with a mottled looking lawn. There was no car in the driveway.
"Are your parents home?" Alfred asked as Ivan fit his key in the lock.
Ivan's shoulders stiffened a little. "No." he finally answered. "My father is away on business, and my mother...works unusual shifts."
"Huh? What does your mother do?" Alfred pressed, following Ivan into the house. Ivan whirled on him, looking more serious than Alfred had ever seen him.
"It does not matter." he said sharply. "She works at the hospital."
"Okay." Annoyed at Ivan's sudden mood change, Alfred held his hands up. "Whatever, dude. Sorry I asked."
Then just like that, Ivan relaxed again. "I am glad you want to know me, too!" he chirped. "I knew that you would come around."
"Hey, hold on!" Alfred spoke up as Ivan disappeared into the kitchen. "It's not like I...want to get to know you, or anything! I just thought it'd be polite to ask!"
"Of course." Ivan's voice floated in from the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"
"...Sure." Alfred followed him into the kitchen, where the larger boy was searching in the cupboards for cups.
"We have Coke...and water...or if you like my father has vodka." Ivan offered, head still stuck in the cupboard. Alfred laughed until he realized Ivan was serious about the vodka.
"J-just Coke, thanks." he waited while Ivan filled a mug with Coke and handed it to Alfred. "Thanks." the bespectacled boy muttered, causing Ivan's face to light up.
"All right, so you will sit with me in the living room and we will work on our project. Okay?" Before Alfred could react, Ivan had placed one large palm in the small of his back and was steering him out of the kitchen and into the living room, where Ivan's stuff was already piled next to a coffee table.
"Good!" Ivan looked pleased, like he was following a checklist of "what to do when the person you're stalking shows up at your house to work on a project". As Alfred took his books out of his bag and paused to drink some of the Coke, he was aware of Ivan watching him, placidly, hands folded on the table.
"Cut that out!" he snapped, putting his book down on the living room table with more force than was necessary.
Ivan kept smiling.
"Okay, look." Alfred took a deep breath. Even if Ivan was a communist, communists could still listen to reason if you spelled it out for them, right?
Right??
"It's really unnerving when you do that and I want you to stop it."
"Stop what?" Ivan asked.
"Staring at me!" Alfred exclaimed. "Like, not just a glance, super creepy staring!"
"I do not think I am super creepy staring." Ivan replied mildly. "I am looking at you. You are a nice person to look at, though you are very loud and sort of obnoxious."
Alfred gaped. "There's a difference!" he protested helplessly. "Between just looking at someone and creepily staring at them!"
Ivan frowned. "You will explain it to me?" he asked. "I am not so good at seeing the difference."
"Well...you..." Alfred trailed off, grasping for words. He was interrupted when they both heard a key in the lock and a voice called, "Vanya? I'm home!"
"It is my sister." Ivan told him, and stood up. Alfred followed suit, a little confused, as Ivan brushed past him to greet Katya.
In the front hall, Katya was talking excitedly to Ivan in Russian while holding in her arms a small child, a little girl of about four years of age, with silky blonde hair in a little bow and big eyes that were fixed on Ivan.
"Evee, Evee!" the girl demanded, holding up her hands, and both siblings broke off their fast-paced talking in order to laugh.
"All right, Nataliya." Ivan said warmly. "Up we go!" he took the girl, Nataliya, from Katya's arms and settled her against his hip. "How was day care?"
"Mawied!" Nataliya said suddenly, chubby hand reaching up to squeeze Ivan's cheek. "Mawid, mawid, mawied!"
Ivan sighed. "Was she reading that book again?" he asked Katya, who gave an apologetic laugh.
"Her teacher says she won't put it down. Don't worry, Ivan, she just gets excited about the pictures, she doesn't actually know what they mean...oh!" Katya noticed Alfred hovering apprehensively in the doorway. "Hello! You're...Alfred, right? Your brother and I have a class together, such a sweet boy."
Ivan's sister Katya was a matronly looking girl with blonde hair, blue eyes in a sweet round face, and graced by God with puberty that hit way too early and left her with a pin up's body.
Or, at least most of the boys in the school called it "graced by God".
Not to Ivan's face, though.
"Yeah. Hi." Alfred waved awkwardly. "How are you?"
"Fine, fine. I have to start dinner though, so don't mind me! You and Vanya can get back to what you were doing!" Katya turned to Ivan and Nataliya. "Natasha, do you want to come with me and get a snack...?"
"No!" Nataliya declared, gripping onto Ivan's neck with stubborn ferocity. "Evee!"
Katya gave a tired laugh. "Okay, okay, stay with Evee." she assured her sibling, and looked at Ivan. "You can watch her while you work, right Vanya?"
"Sure." Ivan's smile was warm as he stroke Nataliya's hair. "Don't worry, big sister."
With one last smile and wave at Alfred, Katya shrugged off her jacket and hurried into the kitchen to prepare the meal.
Alfred watched as Ivan walked back into the living room and tried to put Nataliya down on the couch.
"No!" Nataliya declared, fisting her hand in Ivan's sleeve. "Evee, no!"
Ivan sighed with fond exasperation, kneeling so he and the little girl were at eye-level. "What do you want to do, Natasha?" he asked in a low voice.
The girl considered him, then beat her little fists against the couch cushions. "Mawied!" she exclaimed. "Get mawied!"
Ivan sighed again. "What's she talking about?" Alfred asked from the doorway, unsure if he should interrupt. Ivan looked up, as if he had forgotten Alfred was there.
"Ah." he said. "She goes to day care every day and they have this book there - I do not know what it is about, it is a picture book - but there is a picture in it, of two people getting married, and ever since then she has this idea in her head that she and I will get married." Ivan rolled his eyes fondly at his sister and swept away a few strands of silky hair that had fallen over the young girl's eyes. "It is of no concern. she will grow out of this, it is just because the picture is so pretty, I think, but it makes it hard to leave her alone. She has become very clingy."
Alfred laughed before he could stop himself. "You know," he told Ivan, "when you're not getting up in someone's personal space, you're actually pretty nice. With your sisters and everything."
Ivan's smile was soft around the edges, genuine. "You think so?" he asked. "Everybody else says that I am a - how is it said? My English is not very good - mm! I am a creep, yes?"
Alfred's ears burned. "Yeah." he admitted. "And you sort of are. In some cases, anyways. Like when you're following me around."
"Hm. That is interesting." Ivan considered this, still crouched down on the floor, playing with his baby sister's hair. "But it is only when you see me elsewhere than in your very narrow viewpoint do you see I'm not a creep? Yet after this is over you will go back to thinking I am a creep."
Alfred stared. "I thought you weren't very good at English." he declared. "Stop that."
Ivan's laugh was a little bitter. "All right." he agreed. "Come. You will work with me and then you will go home. Because you are happy to be rid of me, yes?"
"That's not what I - " Alfred tried but immediately Ivan had closed himself off, taken away that warmth that Alfred had seen when with his sisters. That smile was back, but it seemed a little more forced, a ploy to cover something up.
"Othello is waiting, yes? Sit down, we will work. Natasha, птица, stay there, okay? Katya is in the kitchen if you need her."
Nataliya nodded vehemently and crossed her legs at the ankle, looking as prim and proper as a four year old can.
Alfred settled himself at the table, feeling a little bad. "Look, man, I didn't mean it." he said imploringly.
"You said it." Ivan pointed out, head cocked. "I think you are a person I believe, so when you say those things I believe you."
Alfred spent the next hour and a half with a guilty feeling in his stomach. Ivan kept a cool, cordial tone to his voice and purposely, maybe almost mockingly, skirted around Alfred when they had to pass each other.
At the beginning of the week Alfred would have been ecstatic to receive this sort of treatment from Ivan.
Now Alfred wished that he wouldn't.
--
on to the next part!
--
Notes: In Russian, Ivan is pronounced "EE-vahn", so I had Nataliya call her brother "Evee" - you know, one of those things where the kid can't pronounce a name so they give them a stupid nickname that will stick with them forever? Something like that.
Also, Natasha is the Russian diminutive of Nataliya. Since this is an AU both Katya and Nataliya, being Ivan's siblings, will be Russian instead of their respective nations of representation. (BEND THE RULES, IT'S NOT LIKE ANYONE WILL NOTICE). птица is the Russian word for "bird"
Author: grosse_averse
Characters: Matthew (Canada), Ivan (Russia), Alfred (America); appearances by Ukraine and Belarus // Russia/America + some mentions PruCan
Rating: PG-13
Summary: AU The only thing Ivan wants is to get to know Alfred better. The only thing Alfred wants is to punch the goddamn Russki in the face. Based on a prompt from 30quotes.
Notes: In the same universe as I Don't Really Know How To Tell You This.
Prompt: "This guy's a restraining order waiting to happen."
Part One
Thursday
Arthur jumped when Alfred came storming through the front door of the pub, not even bothering to say hello before heading immediately for the staircase at the back.
"What's going o - " he managed to get out before Alfred was gone.
Matt came in a few seconds later, quieter, keeping his body suspiciously tilted away from Arthur like he had been doing for the past couple of days.
"What's going on with your brother?" Arthur directed the question instead to Matt.
"Er...he got paired up for a class project with this guy he doesn't like." Matt explained hesitantly, glancing up at the ceiling. "I'll go talk to him, Dad, don't worry."
Before Arthur could say anything else, Matt was off towards the stairs too. The Englishman sighed.
Since when had his kids started parenting themselves?
And why did Matt have his collar turned up?
"Al." Matt knocked on his brother's door. "Al, talk to me, seriously. It's not that bad..."
Alfred flung his door open, blue eyes fierce. "Not that bad?!" he repeated. "Matt, Ivan is a weird kid who started stalking me for no apparent reason other than "he wants to get to know me", and now I have to work with him on an English project! Do you know what his face looked like when the teacher paired us up? Like he'd won the fucking lottery."
Matt, lost for words, motioned weakly with his hands. "M-maybe he just really does want to get to know you better?" he suggested. "He's just going about it the wrong way."
Alfred snorted. "Yeah, he is." he agreed. "I don't know who told him in Russia that stalking is a good idea, but he needs to learn it now."
"Al, maybe working with him will be good for you." Matt suggested. "I mean, maybe this is all a misunderstanding. You don't know anything about him, so you can't really make a judgement - "
"Mattie." Alfred looked him over incredulously. "I don't care if it turns out he's not even a communist, that kid is a jerkface!"
"Are you living in the 60s? What's with you and communists?" Matt asked, rolling his eyes in exasperation. Alfred scowled, then grabbed his brother's collar and pulled it down away from his neck.
"Why don't you and your pale-ass boyfriend go suck on each other's necks for a bit and leave me to be the hero?" he proclaimed, then slammed the door in Matt's face.
"Idiot." Matt breathed, running a thumb absently over the skin of his neck.
His brother started playing Radiohead in a fashion that was decidedly too pubescent to comment on, so Matt left him alone and went to his room to play with Kuma.
In retrospect, Alfred kicked himself for not playing Radiohead louder. It would have meant a lecture from Arthur later ("no one wants to hear that garbage when they are in our pub!"), but it would have meant he wouldn't have heard the rocks hitting his bedroom window.
His first thought was that maybe Gilbert got his window mixed up with Matt's (it had happened before, much to Alfred's dismay). So he switched his music off and went to the window to tell the pale-ass creep that "you've got the wrong window and don't even bother trying to find the right one because I'm not afraid to get my dad's shotgun!"
Instead he cursed and nearly hit his head on the window frame.
Ivan was standing below his window with a handful of small pebbles. "Ah, this is the right room!" he said. "Good, I was worried I would get your brother instead."
"What are you doing?!" Alfred demanded. "Seriously, Braginski, if you don't get outta here I'm going to kick your - "
"So loud!" Ivan marveled innocently. "I am here to talk about work, yes? We have a...project? So you will come over to my house on Friday and we will work there!"
Oh, because that was what Alfred always wanted to do, be alone with his stalker in the stalker's house. "Why can't you come over to my house?" he asked, adding sarcastically, "It's not like you don't know where it is."
If possible, Ivan's eyes brightened. "Ah!" he chuckled. "You want me to come over to your house! I am so flattered!"
"Whoa, no!" Alfred panicked, back pedaling. "No way in hell, I'll come over to your house then!"
He instantly realized what had just happened as Ivan gave him a sweet smile. "That is why I like you Alfred - you are so reasonable!" he praised. "You will walk home with me after school, yes? My house is couple of minutes from school. I will meet you by your locker!"
"How do you know where my - " Alfred began, but Ivan simply waved and walked away. Just like that.
Alfred realized that he had just agreed to go over to a weirdo Russian's house in a space of less than five minutes, while hanging out of his bedroom window.
Fuck this.
Friday
Ivan was so close over Alfred's shoulder that Alfred could feel the Russian's breath in his ear.
This should not be affecting Alfred so much, but it was. No one else he'd ever met at this god-damn school had been so...upfront, so creepily persistent that they managed to get their way every single time. It unnerved Alfred and it also made him angry.
"Do you mind?" he snapped at Ivan, stilling his hand. Ivan chuckled.
"I am sorry," he said sincerely. "I am trying to see what you are writing."
"I am writing," Alfred ground out, "what we decided I was going to write. Have you ever heard of personal space?"
"Yes, I have heard of it." Ivan agreed pleasantly, sitting back a little in his chair and letting Alfred continued writing. Their English teacher had given them a free work period in class, in order to prepare their analysis on a scene from Othello, and Ivan had insisted on scooting his chair very close to Alfred to watch him write down their thoughts on why (as Alfred put it), "Othello was a paranoid jack ass".
"So maybe you should start respecting it." Alfred muttered feebly. "Seriously, what did they teach you in Russia, Braginski? How to freak people out?"
Ivan considered this. "I like to do the talking with people," he explained. "I like talking and laughing so I like to be around people all the time so I do not feel lonely."
This sort of confession from such a previously-menacing figure, took Alfred aback. "Well...I mean..." he grasped desperately for something. "Jeez, there has to be a line..."
"Have I crossed it?" Ivan tilted his head innocently. "You must tell me or I will not know."
Alfred felt a tic in his jaw start up. "For fuck's sake." he growled, returning to his writing. "You are so weird!"
After school Alfred gathered his things, told his brother he'd be home for dinner, and followed Ivan out of the school towards his house.
When Ivan's hand brushed Alfred's, the blonde boy ignored it.
When their hands brushed again, Alfred crossed his arms over his chest and continued walking. Ivan did not look affected by this rejection.
"We are almost there!" he assured Alfred, adding, "You will be staying for dinner, yes?"
Half of Alfred wanted to, since Arthur would be cooking dinner tonight. The other half immediately reminded him that this was Ivan. "No." he said quickly. "My dad - wants me home for dinner."
Ivan frowned. "Oh." he said. "All right. We will be quick, then."
Alfred waited awkwardly as Ivan pulled his keys from his jacket pocket. The Braginski house looked the same as all the other lower middle-class houses in Eadem - a small brick bungalow, with a mottled looking lawn. There was no car in the driveway.
"Are your parents home?" Alfred asked as Ivan fit his key in the lock.
Ivan's shoulders stiffened a little. "No." he finally answered. "My father is away on business, and my mother...works unusual shifts."
"Huh? What does your mother do?" Alfred pressed, following Ivan into the house. Ivan whirled on him, looking more serious than Alfred had ever seen him.
"It does not matter." he said sharply. "She works at the hospital."
"Okay." Annoyed at Ivan's sudden mood change, Alfred held his hands up. "Whatever, dude. Sorry I asked."
Then just like that, Ivan relaxed again. "I am glad you want to know me, too!" he chirped. "I knew that you would come around."
"Hey, hold on!" Alfred spoke up as Ivan disappeared into the kitchen. "It's not like I...want to get to know you, or anything! I just thought it'd be polite to ask!"
"Of course." Ivan's voice floated in from the kitchen. "Do you want something to drink?"
"...Sure." Alfred followed him into the kitchen, where the larger boy was searching in the cupboards for cups.
"We have Coke...and water...or if you like my father has vodka." Ivan offered, head still stuck in the cupboard. Alfred laughed until he realized Ivan was serious about the vodka.
"J-just Coke, thanks." he waited while Ivan filled a mug with Coke and handed it to Alfred. "Thanks." the bespectacled boy muttered, causing Ivan's face to light up.
"All right, so you will sit with me in the living room and we will work on our project. Okay?" Before Alfred could react, Ivan had placed one large palm in the small of his back and was steering him out of the kitchen and into the living room, where Ivan's stuff was already piled next to a coffee table.
"Good!" Ivan looked pleased, like he was following a checklist of "what to do when the person you're stalking shows up at your house to work on a project". As Alfred took his books out of his bag and paused to drink some of the Coke, he was aware of Ivan watching him, placidly, hands folded on the table.
"Cut that out!" he snapped, putting his book down on the living room table with more force than was necessary.
Ivan kept smiling.
"Okay, look." Alfred took a deep breath. Even if Ivan was a communist, communists could still listen to reason if you spelled it out for them, right?
Right??
"It's really unnerving when you do that and I want you to stop it."
"Stop what?" Ivan asked.
"Staring at me!" Alfred exclaimed. "Like, not just a glance, super creepy staring!"
"I do not think I am super creepy staring." Ivan replied mildly. "I am looking at you. You are a nice person to look at, though you are very loud and sort of obnoxious."
Alfred gaped. "There's a difference!" he protested helplessly. "Between just looking at someone and creepily staring at them!"
Ivan frowned. "You will explain it to me?" he asked. "I am not so good at seeing the difference."
"Well...you..." Alfred trailed off, grasping for words. He was interrupted when they both heard a key in the lock and a voice called, "Vanya? I'm home!"
"It is my sister." Ivan told him, and stood up. Alfred followed suit, a little confused, as Ivan brushed past him to greet Katya.
In the front hall, Katya was talking excitedly to Ivan in Russian while holding in her arms a small child, a little girl of about four years of age, with silky blonde hair in a little bow and big eyes that were fixed on Ivan.
"Evee, Evee!" the girl demanded, holding up her hands, and both siblings broke off their fast-paced talking in order to laugh.
"All right, Nataliya." Ivan said warmly. "Up we go!" he took the girl, Nataliya, from Katya's arms and settled her against his hip. "How was day care?"
"Mawied!" Nataliya said suddenly, chubby hand reaching up to squeeze Ivan's cheek. "Mawid, mawid, mawied!"
Ivan sighed. "Was she reading that book again?" he asked Katya, who gave an apologetic laugh.
"Her teacher says she won't put it down. Don't worry, Ivan, she just gets excited about the pictures, she doesn't actually know what they mean...oh!" Katya noticed Alfred hovering apprehensively in the doorway. "Hello! You're...Alfred, right? Your brother and I have a class together, such a sweet boy."
Ivan's sister Katya was a matronly looking girl with blonde hair, blue eyes in a sweet round face, and graced by God with puberty that hit way too early and left her with a pin up's body.
Or, at least most of the boys in the school called it "graced by God".
Not to Ivan's face, though.
"Yeah. Hi." Alfred waved awkwardly. "How are you?"
"Fine, fine. I have to start dinner though, so don't mind me! You and Vanya can get back to what you were doing!" Katya turned to Ivan and Nataliya. "Natasha, do you want to come with me and get a snack...?"
"No!" Nataliya declared, gripping onto Ivan's neck with stubborn ferocity. "Evee!"
Katya gave a tired laugh. "Okay, okay, stay with Evee." she assured her sibling, and looked at Ivan. "You can watch her while you work, right Vanya?"
"Sure." Ivan's smile was warm as he stroke Nataliya's hair. "Don't worry, big sister."
With one last smile and wave at Alfred, Katya shrugged off her jacket and hurried into the kitchen to prepare the meal.
Alfred watched as Ivan walked back into the living room and tried to put Nataliya down on the couch.
"No!" Nataliya declared, fisting her hand in Ivan's sleeve. "Evee, no!"
Ivan sighed with fond exasperation, kneeling so he and the little girl were at eye-level. "What do you want to do, Natasha?" he asked in a low voice.
The girl considered him, then beat her little fists against the couch cushions. "Mawied!" she exclaimed. "Get mawied!"
Ivan sighed again. "What's she talking about?" Alfred asked from the doorway, unsure if he should interrupt. Ivan looked up, as if he had forgotten Alfred was there.
"Ah." he said. "She goes to day care every day and they have this book there - I do not know what it is about, it is a picture book - but there is a picture in it, of two people getting married, and ever since then she has this idea in her head that she and I will get married." Ivan rolled his eyes fondly at his sister and swept away a few strands of silky hair that had fallen over the young girl's eyes. "It is of no concern. she will grow out of this, it is just because the picture is so pretty, I think, but it makes it hard to leave her alone. She has become very clingy."
Alfred laughed before he could stop himself. "You know," he told Ivan, "when you're not getting up in someone's personal space, you're actually pretty nice. With your sisters and everything."
Ivan's smile was soft around the edges, genuine. "You think so?" he asked. "Everybody else says that I am a - how is it said? My English is not very good - mm! I am a creep, yes?"
Alfred's ears burned. "Yeah." he admitted. "And you sort of are. In some cases, anyways. Like when you're following me around."
"Hm. That is interesting." Ivan considered this, still crouched down on the floor, playing with his baby sister's hair. "But it is only when you see me elsewhere than in your very narrow viewpoint do you see I'm not a creep? Yet after this is over you will go back to thinking I am a creep."
Alfred stared. "I thought you weren't very good at English." he declared. "Stop that."
Ivan's laugh was a little bitter. "All right." he agreed. "Come. You will work with me and then you will go home. Because you are happy to be rid of me, yes?"
"That's not what I - " Alfred tried but immediately Ivan had closed himself off, taken away that warmth that Alfred had seen when with his sisters. That smile was back, but it seemed a little more forced, a ploy to cover something up.
"Othello is waiting, yes? Sit down, we will work. Natasha, птица, stay there, okay? Katya is in the kitchen if you need her."
Nataliya nodded vehemently and crossed her legs at the ankle, looking as prim and proper as a four year old can.
Alfred settled himself at the table, feeling a little bad. "Look, man, I didn't mean it." he said imploringly.
"You said it." Ivan pointed out, head cocked. "I think you are a person I believe, so when you say those things I believe you."
Alfred spent the next hour and a half with a guilty feeling in his stomach. Ivan kept a cool, cordial tone to his voice and purposely, maybe almost mockingly, skirted around Alfred when they had to pass each other.
At the beginning of the week Alfred would have been ecstatic to receive this sort of treatment from Ivan.
Now Alfred wished that he wouldn't.
--
on to the next part!
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Notes: In Russian, Ivan is pronounced "EE-vahn", so I had Nataliya call her brother "Evee" - you know, one of those things where the kid can't pronounce a name so they give them a stupid nickname that will stick with them forever? Something like that.
Also, Natasha is the Russian diminutive of Nataliya. Since this is an AU both Katya and Nataliya, being Ivan's siblings, will be Russian instead of their respective nations of representation. (BEND THE RULES, IT'S NOT LIKE ANYONE WILL NOTICE). птица is the Russian word for "bird"