yo so i wrote that fic
((I def didn't proofread so be warned))
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It had been one of 'those mornings.'
Ivan had gotten up about an hour before him, which meant that by the time Alfred had finally dragged himself out of bed, threw himself into the shower and emerged to blowdry his hair and change into something clean and stiff (and maybe just a bit snug), Ivan was already sitting down eating breakfast at the dining table.
"Good morning," Ivan greeted him, smiling absently at his boyfriend. "How's my little sunflower, hm?"
As Alfred walked closer, Ivan punctuated the 'little sunflower' with an arm around the American's waist, squeezing just a bit.
Bristling maybe just a bit, Alfred thwacked him with the back of his hand. "You're not one to judge," he said, a hostile tone to his voice. "Jerk."
"I was just telling you good morning. I don't see where your insults come into it, unless you're complaining about your figure again?" Ivan grinned at him, arm still around his waist. The edges of his smile pulled sideways into just a hint of a smirk, knowing he was teasing the other. "I don't see why you don't think it's cute."
Alfred did his best to squirm out of the other's grip, but it was really no use. Ivan had a terrible tendency of getting exactly what he wanted, when he wanted it, and if he wanted to hold Alfred right where Alfred didn't want him to, well, it didn't make it okay, but it made it far less likely that Alfred would be getting what he wanted. That didn't mean he was going down without a fight, though. "Stop it, let me go. I need to get some breakfast, you asshole."
Instead of letting him go, Ivan pulled him closer and untucked his shirt so he could slip his hands under, feeling the soft and rather generous expanse of skin underneath. "Hmm, I don't think I will..."
"At least let me be even with you," Alfred finally protested. His face was getting a bit red, and he decided it was high time to even things up between them. Dodging the hand that came forward to try to keep him away, he simply got closer, finally going to sit in Ivan's lap.
Perplexed, the Russian blinked at him, opening his mouth to ask him what he was doing, but Alfred cut him off with a kiss.
Taking advantage of the other's momentary surprise and rather childlike trust, Alfred smirked just a bit into the kiss and quickly pulled Ivan's shirt up, too, fingers splaying out over the other's soft sides.
"Fredka?" Ivan protested, face a tinge pink, lips parting in the question. "Ah--Remember the golden rule...?"
"Doesn't apply if you don't apply it to me." Alfred grinned, then pulled him into a kiss, squeezing the other's sides briefly before letting his hands wander, unafraid of exploring this new territory. After all, between the two of them, it was incredibly rare that they'd do anything under the covers without shirts on, even if Ivan tended to get too warm in the middle of the night with it on. (It didn't help that Alfred was like a goddamn heater, especially with how tightly he'd latch onto Ivan at night.)
Finally realizing that this was a fair fight, and that all was fair in love and war, Ivan wasn't at all hesitant about moving more against Alfred, kissing him hungrily as he let his bigger hands take advantage of the surface area they could cover--and there was definitely a bit of surface area to cover. Alfred, had he the mouth free to comment, would have blamed fast food for tasting too good, and Ivan would have probably blamed Alfred's fast food addiction for his own problem (despite the pastry-shop-receipts that would say otherwise).
It took a few minutes for tongues to come out, and Alfred was pleasantly surprised to find that Ivan tasted like coffee and eggs and bacon. He glanced around the kitchen for any leftover bacon and found none, and he lightly bit down on Ivan's lip to show his disapproval. "Bastard," he said, pouting, if such a thing was possible while in the middle of kissing. "You know I- ah- want you to make extra bacon when you make it... I want some too..."
"Maybe if you, mm try that again, got up earlier you might get some in time," Ivan said with a rather cheeky smile, fingers pressing into Alfred's rather malleable sides and belly. "I'll make you some if you undo our pants for me..."
Alfred snorted a little. "We have to finish getting ready for work," he said insistently. "If I let our pants down, then we won't make it on time. There's always lunch break, isn't there?"
This time it was Ivan who pouted, and oh, if that wasn't a pleading look on his face. "But then we end up not eating, and I don't like hearing you complain about how much you want to eat for the rest of the day."
"I don't whine," the American immediately protested. "I might occasionally send you a text or two telling you to order me something during your free period, but I don't whine."
(Twelve sequential texts sent last Thursday said otherwise, as they'd been nothing less than demands for McDonald's and that Ivan was getting castrated if he distracted Alfred from lunch again.)
"Da, you whine." Ivan laughed, pinching his adorable boyfriend's cheek. "It's cute, though. Maybe I'll do it on purpose so I can hear you begging me for that fast food you like so much."
Alfred huffed, pinching Ivan's muffin-top, not even pretending to be sorry. "If I like fast food, then you like sweets equally much, and don't even pretend you don't, Mister 'My bones are just big and that's all!'"
Ivan grabbed a small handful of Alfred's middle as protest, voice soonafter taking on a sing-song quality. "Mm, that may be so, but I still eat healthier than you. You could be the McDonald's poster boy. You're certainly cute enough, and chubby enough."
"They'd wanna advertise skinny people, so your logic is invalid," the American said, pinking and pretending he hadn't just been called cute.
Before Ivan could reply, though, an alarm went off, signifying it was time to finish getting ready and get out the door so they'd make it on time.
Clearing his throat, Alfred decided it was high time they got to work, so he left the other's arms and grabbed a package of poptarts or two so they could head to the school they both worked at, not to meet up until their shared free-period fifth hour, as they were both part of the science department.
As they started to the school, Ivan slipped his hand into Alfred's back pocket, cupping his admittedly round backside as the American wrapped an arm around Ivan's waist, squeezing just a bit.
Granted, they'd have to pull away once they entered the building and stayed apart for the next several hours, but at the moment, they were perfectly content.
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"You still owe me bacon, you know," Alfred said airily.
Ivan rolled his eyes. "You never undid your pants, so I'm sorry, but no."
"Jerk."
"Ass."
"Glutton."
"Pig--Capitalist pig."
"Take it back, you asshole--"
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--Well, mostly content.