Red Roses, Aster, and Peonies

19

Smut, light bondage, spanking, choking, Alfred a slut warning**

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Alfred yawned, moving slightly and pushing his face more into the pillow. He could feel Ivan's breath against his stomach, his head in his chest. His own arm was curled into his hair, the other under his pillow. Occasionally he kicked like he was running, or he whispered something against his skin.

It was 3am. He didn't know how long it would be before Ivan woke up too. He was older, he had more memories. That much was obvious. And it was nerve wracking.

What was he seeing right now? How many people he killed?

He didn't want to know. He kissed Ivan's hair, curling his scarf up to his lips and nibbling on it. He was bored. Maybe he could go to sleep? No. He could think over what he saw. He needed to tell Ivan that Zvonko was not Chernobog, and that the real Chernobog was likely pissed at him.

Also that Zvonko ate the people he killed, that was also important. To make him feel better tell him that Kyra did it too. Actually that probably wouldn't make him feel better.

There really isn't anything to think over. It's over now. Yet he felt like he understood him better. His actions made more sense. His fears made much more sense, and how he got his scarf, and other little things.

Ivan whispered something he couldn't understand and wrapped his arms around his back, clutching his back and hiding his face in Alfred's shirt. Alfred whispered sweet nothings to him, trying to distract him from the stuff he's done.

It was annoying. He couldn't do anything about what Ivan was seeing. Maybe he could see what he was seeing? No! He had to do this alone. Ivan could be mad at him later. Hopefully not that mad.

Ivan woke up at nine, Alfred had stayed awake the entire time. The alarm never went off, and he knew breakfast wouldn't be made today because everyone was too hungover. He felt a little buzzed too, but he'd only had wine, so it wasn't that bad.

Ivan pushed him away immediately, before he could even say good morning.

"Is this real?" he said quickly.

"Yes," Alfred replied, pinching his cheek between his thumb and pointer finger, making sure not to nick him with his claws. Ivan looked down at his arm, his mind studying his skin. His mind was going through loops to figure out what happened.

"You really went through all that?" he whispered, cupping both his cheeks. Alfred leaned into his hands and nodded on impulse, feeling the heat of Ivan's skin. It seemed impossible to be so warm, he could never last in somewhere like Arizona with skin that warm.

"I'm so sorry..." he said, kissing him gently on the forehead.

"Don't be, it's over now," Alfred replied, lifting his hand to run his thumb under his eye, the Russian leaning into him, "you weren't sacrificing to Chernobog by the way, that was Zvonko, the personification of Winter."

"What? How did you... so you saw me do those horrible things..." he muttered, his eyebrows furrowing. Alfred couldn't have that, pressing a kiss between his eyes and on his nose and to his lips and chin, making Ivan give him a sweet look and wrap one of his hands around to his neck.

"I'm worse, trust me. I doubt you saw all of it," Alfred whispered, "did you see me eat people? Share meals with Persephone and Hades and Lilith and Morrigan and Hel, those meals consisting of other demons? I've practiced cannibalism, murder- shit, the only things I can really think I haven't done is rape or incest."

"Fuck yourself with a banana?"

"That was a fun evening," Alfred pondered, before smirking, Ivan's eyes wide as he seemed to get jealous of a banana from 1765, "what I'm saying is that there's a lot you still don't know.