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Part Three
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Since discovering the identity of his Santa the day before, many things have changed for Alfred. For one, he doesn't quite get the same feeling when finding the new gift on his desk (which turned out to a new mouse pad to replace the grimy one he had been using for some time now, featuring Professor Frink awesomely enough) and he's picked up the habit of ducking into the nearest hiding position whenever Ivan is on path to stroll right by him.

"So how long do you plan to keep that up?" Gilbert asks as he emerges from behind the water cooler.

Alfred pats himself off as he straightens himself out and says, "It's just a reflex, I'm not doing it on purpose or anything."

"So the whole looking around before doing it is reflex?"

"Exactly," he replies and begins to walk away, hoping to continue his way to the printing room without any company.

Though as he makes his way again, Gilbert continues to follow, snapping his fingers for Antonio's attention when passing the brunets' cubicle. Needless to say Antonio joins their troupe, and not long after, Francis tags along the moment he spies them heading in the same direction.

"In my awesome opinion," Gilbert begins one they're inside the room, "it's pretty damn obvious that you're trying to avoid him."

"Is this about him hiding behind everything every time he sees Ivan?" Antonio asks.

"What else could it be?" Francis answers in turn. "Only everybody's been noticing."

"It's not that bad," Alfred sweatdrops and starts the printer up. "Really, you're exaggerating."

"No, I even think Ivan's noticed it."

"He did look a little gloomy when he passed me by earlier," Antonio agrees.

"Well, genius only tried to hide behind a water cooler," Gilbert points out.

Alfred sighs heavily. "Look, it's none of your guy's business anyway so-" He cuts himself off, the printer behind him making a terrible beeping noise that calls his attention much to his dismay. "PC load letter? The fuck does that mean?"

He swipes at the machine, only to knock off the paper tray and causes a chaos that adds so much more grief to his life. The trio are barely able to keep their amusement to themselves as they bear witness to Alfred being pummeled with flying sheets of paper before Francis finally approaches and unplugs the machine from the wall.

"I think you're a bit too tensed over the subject," he says with the cord still in hand. "You're fighting with a printer."

"He does that all the time though," Antonio puts in. "Everyone pretty much hears him when it happens."

"So basically I'm so noticeable to everyone on anything I do," mutters Alfred.

"That makes you a definite creeper magnet," Gilbert says. "That's gotta be worth something."

"Shut up, Gil."

"You really shouldn't call Ivan a creeper," Antonio picks up. "You hardly know him."

"I lived with him," his friend reminds.

"No, you lived in the same apartment building as him, and being someone who does the oddest things when we go out drinking, you shouldn't be talking about what others do when they get drunk."

Gilbert only scoffs and looks away as Francis agrees with and even compliments Antonio for the short speech.

"He makes everything seem so negative," Antonio shrugs. "And it doesn't have to be."

"Optimistic point taken, Tony, my good man," Alfred interjects, "But right now I'm kind of in a position where I think I need to know more about my opponent before I can make a counterstrike."

"It's not a war, Alfred," Francis sighs. "If your main concern is not knowing anything about him, a simple conversation will suffice."

"Okay, first of all," Alfred begins, "when it comes to Christmas gifting, it's a total war. And second… I'm not sure how to start a conversation with him."

"I find that very hard to believe."

"No, I'm serious! I know I need to talk to him somehow, but I don't how to start it up without feeling really awkward."

"You should invite him out to lunch," Antonio tells him. "You always talk more freely when you're eating."

"And there's no way he'll hear you say something stupid since no one can really tell what you're saying while you stuff your mouth anyway," puts in Gilbert.

"You're a real pal," Alfred says to him. "Y'know that?" He shakes his head lightly before starting up again with, "And no, the last thing I'm gonna do is go out to lunch with him. Not only would that be really awkward, I have no doubt the three of you will play spy and listen in at what we'd say at the table."

"We can do that actually," says Gilbert. "I have this mini walkie talkie set that we could hook up and use that to spy on your table and another set that would be able to give you feedback from ours if we wanted."

Alfred only stares at him unbelievingly. "Did you wanna be a spy or something when you were a kid?"

"It's better than wanting to be a Jedi."

"Or Wolverine, that was my second option."

"That's not so terrible of an idea," Francis muses. "If we keep a tab on your table, we'd be able to help you out of any awkward situations by giving you advice."

"That's a great idea!" Antonio agrees.

"Let's not forget that it was my idea first," Gilbert puts in.

"It doesn't matter who's idea it was first," says Francis. "The point is that we actually have a plan of action and it's completely ingenious."

"Do we get to wear our sunglasses again?" Antonio asks him.

"But of course!"

"I didn't actually give my consent to this," Alfred tries to tell them and is promptly ignored.

"I don't want to go to Chothckie's," says Gilbert. "Worst drink selection ever."

"But their service is better than any of the other's close by," Francis tells him.

"Why don't we go to Flingers?" Antonio suggests.

"Yes! We should go to Flingers!"

"You just wanna go there 'cause the chick with the rack works there."

Alfred throws his hands up into the air exasperatingly "You guys can go ahead and plan whatever the hell you want, but I'm not gonna take him out to lunch."

And thus, Alfred finds himself sitting inside Flingers restaurant at a table with none other than Ivan Braginsky across from him. In his ear sat a lone ear bud that let him hear everything that was said at a booth in his line of sight disguised as a normal headphone, and attached to the back of his tie is another small microphone that is able to broadcast any conversation over to those three hiding none too discreetly behind menus and their sunglasses.

Alfred sighs inwardly and thinks over his plight. Why did Matthew and Arthur have to be sent over to another office to train new comers? Why did he allow himself to get caught up in this idea that he totally didn't really want to be involved in at all? And why was Ivan looking at him so oddly? Well, it would help if he actually said something instead of just letting them sit in utter silence.

"So," he begins. "How's the mail room treating you?"

"Fairly well," the other replies unsurely. "There's always a little more to do around this time of the year, but it's not really an issue since no one bothers me and there's never a real need to leave it."

"That can't be good," Alfred says absently. "Gotta get out and show that skin some sun, y'know."

"Don't say that Alfred," he hears Francis say. "The man likes you, he's going to be insecure about his appearance around you."

"Not that it's a bad thing," Alfred quickly states. "You look really good with pale skin."

He faintly hears Gilbert gag as Ivan's mentioned pale complexion collects a healthy pink flush. He even feels his own cheeks heat up as he realizes his words. He's barely able to believe that he's said such a thing.

"It's okay, Alfred," Antonio's voice comes over the ear piece. "You just need to bring out that charisma we all know you have."

"Way to sound like a camp counselor, Tony."

"Gilbert, be quiet."

"So…" Ivan begins this time. "I was able to watch The Simpsons last night."

"Really?" Alfred grins. "Awesome! Whadja think?"

"Well, it wasn't really an episode actually. My sister and I watched the movie while we ate dinner."

"Oh, God," Alfred groans. "The movie is not the best place to start out with introducing yourself to The Simpsons. Yeah, I still paid twelve dollars to see it in theatres and all, but I had such an issue with it."

"Hm, like what?"

"Okay, you know that wedding video Marge goes back for and then tapes over?" Alfred asks him and only continues on when Ivan nods his head in affirmation. "Yeah, well, that's a lie. Homer and Marge never had a wedding, not like a real wedding anyway. She was already halfway through her pregnancy when they got married, and that was at a roadside church place in the middle of nowhere with just them. No family, no friends, just them and a cake in the shape of a whale."

"A whale?"

"Yup, and it said 'Married to a whale of a wife'. I remember 'cause Marge says something about how she doesn't believe that her friends or family are going to be showing up and a Levi's truck passes them by to which Homer asks her if she thought that truck was really full of jeans."

Ivan chuckles at his memory, but through the ear piece he hears Gilbert say, "Oh my God, he doesn't just look like a nerd, he is one."

"Him and Matthew look almost the same," Antonio points out.

"Yeah but you see, Mattie has this cute look to him. Alfred's just a dork."

Alfred can't help but be offended. "Dick."

Ivan's eyes widen considerably, thinking that he's offended the blonde somehow. "I'm sorry..."

"Oh, no!" Alfred exclaims. "Not you! I was thinking of something Gilbert said when I told them the same thing. He's such a dick, called me a dork."

"But you are a dork," Ivan says is instantly shell shocked at his own admission. "Not to say it's a bad thing, I don't mean it in a bad way. I like how you're a dork."

Alfred looks on at Ivan almost fondly as he melts into a stuttering mess all for the sake of saving face. He knows the other means no harm in his words, only that he's attempting to tell him there's no shame in any of his interests.

"Nah, I guess I am a dork," Alfred laughs. "Y'know if my cubicle is anything to go by."

"You mean the anime clippings and super hero montage up on your walls? Not that I've been searching them out or anything, they're just hard to miss."

"That is what they're there for. I don't know why I fight the dork status, that's just like given proof. Ah, guess it's fine, I'll wear the title with pride."

"Oh, then would it be too much to ask after the framed Superman picture?"

"Arthur gave me that," Alfred smiles. "It was some joke gift that he thought would bug me so to piss him off, I put it up."

"I've noticed how close you and Arthur are," Ivan replies quietly.

"He's worried about yours and Arthur's relationship," Francis observes.

In the background Gilbert snorts, "No shit, Franny, really?"

"Yeah," Alfred replies to Ivan. "We've been bff's since high school pretty much. It's like having my own overbearing older brother. Seriously, there are times he will just not back off and it's soo annoying."

The reply seems to settle any sort of worry that might have bubbled up within Ivan. "Sibling instincts are often like that. Though sometimes it has a reason."

"Ugh, tell me you're not an overbearing older brother."

"No, younger. I feel as though I take care of my sister more nowadays."

"That's different though," Alfred argues. "Brother's gotta have a sister's back. Which is totally understandable, props to you for not being one of those jerks that just let whatever happen."

Again, Ivan's cheeks tint at the compliment (or what could be considered a compliment) and goes on to say, "She actually works here, she should be now." He pauses while his eyes search out for a familiar figure in the vicinity. "Ah, there she's is, right over there."

He points towards a corner of the restaurant behind Alfred. The blonde turns around none too discreetly and sees a cuter female version of Ivan with a very well-endowed chest and suddenly realizes why Francis was so happy to hear the establishment Ivan picked out for their not-date. He stares for only a few seconds longer, long enough for the other to sense eyes on her and once turning in their direction, waves happily. Alfred turns back and is able to see the end of Ivan's return wave and smiles.

"She's gorgeous," he says. "Could totally tell why you'd be have to be over protective and all."

Ivan nods in agreement, and while he looks generally pleased at the compliment Alfred pays his sister, his smile wilts just enough to be noticeable. "Yes, there's always been several men surrounding her, though ususally for the wrong reasons."

Before he's able to receive another scolding from Francis, Alfred quickly says, "I'm pretty sure, but I wouldn't know anything about that. Yeah, I don't even like girls. Y'know, ew."

Gilberts boisterous laugh reaches his ears even without the earpiece. "Nice one, Jones," he says, "Next you can tell him how afraid you are of cooties."

Alfred isn't able to fight off the heat rising on his cheeks as he tears the ear bud away from him and pockets it while clicking the microphone behind his tie off. Setting the items aside, as well as ignoring the indignant shouts from a certain table, Alfred clears his throat and flashes Ivan a quick grin before making himself comfortable in his seat once more.

"So, what about you, Ivan?" he asks. "Everyone knows tons of things about me and stuff, but I really don't know anything about you."

The rest of their outing together passes pleasantly enough as Ivan indulges his request and without further interruption from a certain trio of insufferably horrid friends. A repeat of the excursion even occurs the next day, much to the infuriation it causes Arthur when the time to explain just why Alfred was having lunch with Ivan for the second day in a row and consequently for the remainder of the week arrives. Everything is only settled by having just about the entire team wear sunglasses while hiding in a nearby booth to oversee each lunch date, much to Alfred's dismay and Ivan's oblivion.

Though while everything may appear fine and dandy, by the time the day of their annual office party and Secret Santa exchange comes, Alfred still has no gift for Ivan. He worries about this while playing with his new light saber with five other people staring at him.

"Is there a reason my desk is being crowded?" he asks.

"Whadja get him?" comes the immediate question from Gilbert no less.

Alfred breathes in heavily and allows the purple plastic to fall back into it's base. "I didn't."

They all more or less exclaim, "What!"

Alfred shoulders sag with each turn they take at insulting his inconsideration and thoughtlessness. Even Arthur took a stab, calling him selfish and rude for at least not paying any sort of compensation for the fair amount of money that's been spent on him.

"I tried," he tells them. "I really did, but I just… I just couldn't find anything."

He thrusts his light saber out forward once more, the purple emitting out and presses the small button to create sound effects. "Look at this," he says. "How do I repay this? This shows that he actually puts a lot of thought into what he gives me and I just can't give him anything."

"How does this show the effort he's put in exactly?" Arthur asks.

"Um, because if you ever really listened to me, you'd know I lost my light saber at that convention a few months ago and that Mace Windu is my fave Jedi Master on the Council," Alfred tells him. "Hence why he got me the purple one!"

Gilbert instantly makes a face. "Dude, what about Yoda? He's like Jedi Master Supreme, his midi-chlorian count is over seventeen grand, no where near as epic as Anakin's, but the highest in the Council."

"That is such bullshit."

"Is not, Qui-gon said it himself when he ran his blood test on Tatooine."

"Not that, I mean the whole midi-chlorian crap. Totally ruins the whole mysticism behind the Force. I refuse to acknowledge any of it."

"Right, because the Force is supposed to be based on an idea of faith instead of something logical for something labeled as science fiction."

Alfred points his lightsaber in Gilbert's direction. "You wanna go?"

"Gentlemen," Francis interrupts. "You're both equally nerdy, can we please move on?"

"He started it," Alfred mutters, though consents to the end of their nerd-off along with Gilbert. He lowers his light saber once more and begins again with, "So yeah, I didn't know what to get him. Everything just seemed so… stiff and blah."

"As always, your vocabulary astounds me," says Arthur. "But, I understand what you mean at any rate. You're in a bit of a situation here."

"No kidding."

The group disperses not long after, each wishing him the best of luck in handling the problem and feeling slightly grateful for not being in such a dilemma themselves. Alfred is only able to accept their words with little thanks and return to staring at his computer screen. His alone time is broken only once, by the very reason of his passive panic ironically enough.

Their exchange is short lived however, as it's only a simple conversation in which Ivan informs the blonde that because of their normal working day being cut off short, what with it turning into their annual office party and all, he prefers to work through diligently as to not fall behind. Alfred is only too happy to accept the excuse of not being able to take his lunch with the other and plans to make good of his alone time to search last minute before the event is to take place.

However, it turns out to be an entirely futile attempt as when he returns to his cubicle after pushing through mobs of last minute shoppers, Alfred allows his head to hit his desk and prays for a miracle.

Time passes slowly, the inevitable office party which will host their annual Secret Santa Exchange approaches and only makes Alfred feel that much more nervous and that much more guilty for not buying Ivan anything. The anxiety only builds up when the Christmas committee start decorating for the impending festivities and their boss, one Roderich Eldenstein, calls them together for a quick conference before leaving them to their own devices.

"And another reminder that I cannot stress enough," he says. "There is to be no alcohol served within the office building. Do I make myself clear?"

A slight murmur of affirmations and the like pass through the mass crowd, perhaps not the ideal response though considering the usual reactions he received the previous times he's called the entire office together, it's the most enthusiastic. So, satisfied with the feedback, he takes his leave of the building and the very second he's off the premises completely, the computers are shut down, a karaoke machine is broken out, and liquor bottles are passed around by that oh so infamous trio themselves.

The Santa exchange begins almost immediately, nearly as soon as Feliciano and some of the others from the second floor join the lower level employees. Feliciano is the one to start of the ordeal, being too excited to wait until any official start of the tradition and gives a neatly wrapped gift to Feliks.

After the others go through the motions of handing out their gifts to their receivers, they congregate around Alfred who stands by his lonesome and uncharacteristically out of the way. Francis is happy enough to pour him a drink and with being surrounded by his friends, he finally begins to relax and watch as Yong Soo attempt to drag Yao up to the karaoke machine to sing with him after Kiku's turn.

Lovino approaches them not long after though, holding a fairly large gift and it reminds Alfred of the one he didn't buy and sinks into another spiral of depression.

"Lovino!" Antonio greets. "Is that present for me?"

"It's for Alfred," the other grouses and Antonio instantly pulls a sad face. "I ended up being his Secret Santa."

"Why is Alfred so lucky?" he pouts. "He already has a Secret Santa and now he gets you too."

"It's not like I wanted to! I told Feli it wasn't fair because he was already getting gifts, but he made me so here!" He shoves the wrapped box into Alfred's arms harshly and storms off with, "Merry fucking Christmas."

"Lovino, wait!" Antonio calls while chasing after him. "I have a present for you!"

Alfred lowers his drink down onto a nearby surface and starts to unwrap his gift. Underneath the wrappings is a novelty phone in the shape of a hamburger, the clearance sticker still attached over the original price.

"So thoughtful," Alfred chuckles. "Who knew five dollars could get you so much?"

"What is with this and hamburgers?" Arthur mumbles to himself.

"Can't hear you, Arthur," Alfred tells him while holding the box up to his ear. "I'm talking into a hamburger."

They stare him with dulled eyes, thinking it's virtually impossible for the blonde to realize that they will never understand his references.

"From Juno!" he cries out. "You guys are lame!"

"Speaking of lame," Gilbert starts, "lookit who's kickin' it by himself in a corner."

Every head in the group turns towards a far off corner where Ivan stands by himself, nursing a drink of his own. Matthew quietly berates Gilbert for being so inconsiderate of Ivan's condition, since he himself hates being so alone. Of course Gilbert tries to deny the statement, though no one bothers to pay him any attention.

"Should I go talk to him?" Alfred asks Arthur.

"You're going to have to eventually."

Alfred gives him a sharp nod and hands him his gift before starting off in Ivan's direction, all those left behind paying very close attention as he makes his way closer. It's not so far of a journey, but to the blonde it feels like an eternity as he approaches the other man and he needs to clear his throat out before being able to speak.

"Hey Ivan," he greets. "What're you doing here by your lonesome?"

Ivan smiles kindly at him before confessing, "I'm just watching everyone have fun."

"That doesn't sound very fun."

"It's entertaining at times. If you watch enough, you'll notice interesting things."

"Huh… So you see anything like that so far?"

"I… saw that Lovino gave you something," he tells Alfred and eyes briefly flicker towards those still watching (who in turn, quickly look away and act as through they weren't doing such a thing).

"Oh, yeah! He was my Secret Santa, apparently," the blonde informs him. "Well, one of them anyway. Personally, I like my first gift better."

Alfred doesn't miss the smile Ivan hides in the folds of his scarf and in some way it even pleases himself to have been the cause behind it.

"You wanna come over and have a drink with us?" he asks.

Ivan happily accepts the offer and follows Alfred back to his friends who are all in some off state of not knowing exactly how to prepare themselves for this. Though Gilbert is the only one who shows the most apprehension, the company accepts the newcomer easily enough for a steady progression of their (and evidently everyone else's by the looks of it) planned night of binge drinking to continue as such.

As the party continues, a shirt or two amongst the crowd go missing as those who have lost them stumble onto any platform available to them and sway to the music emitting from their make-shift karaoke stage and the screeches of people mutilating their favorite songs. All the same, it's a sort of controlled atmosphere that only teeters on the brink of chaos with every downed shot and bad touch that goes no further than just that.

At least until from the depth of his jacket, Francis pulls out that one sprig of plant that always causes mayhem to stir; mistletoe. It's almost instantaneous the way Gilbert grabs Matthew's hand to cavort him off as far as he can from his friend and Alfred does the same with Ivan, leading the other to be entirely confused by this sudden behavior.

"You don't wanna be around Francis when he brings out the mistletoe!" he quickly explains and drags him off.

How true his words are, as poor Arthur is the only one left to fall victim to his mouth raping for not being quick enough to escape, and sure enough Francis takes complete advantage and holds the shorter blonde close by wrapping his arm around the other's waist and pressing them together before letting their lips collide. Arthur fights the other off for only so long before being subdued into accepting (and even reciprocating) the kiss that had those nearby cheering as it deepens.

It's with this action, and the call for "body shots!", that has those wandering hands to gain the courage to linger and even delve further, as well as cause certain persons to be dragged off through the maze of cubicles and into empty bathroom stalls.

Amidst the rampant revelries and chaos escalating even further out of control, both Ivan and Alfred hide in the printer room and work their way past the fairly good buzz they both have with some snagged liquor bottles taken as provisions while hiding away from it all.

"Hey," Alfred calls out. "Hey, hey, Ivan… What do you want for Christmas?"

Apparently the question catches Ivan off guard, as he splutters some of the alcohol he had been drinking while it was asked. The action has Alfred laughing behind his hand as the other fights off being flustered and looks over at him seriously.

"You're not going to get me anything, are you?" he asks with the sole intent of refusing the blonde for anything of the sort, but he can't quite push down that hopeful bubble rising up in his chest.

Alfred nods enthusiastically while saying, "Damn right I am and you know why? Because… Y'know, it's not because I have to, no it's not that, it's because I want to!"

The blonde shifts to sit on his knees and faces towards Ivan, the distance between their faces nearly minuscule as he clearly states, "I want to get you something for Christmas, because it's not fair!"

He throws his arms around the other and buries his face into his chest, muttering about unfairness and other things that make no sense to Ivan who internally flails as his face heats up considerably.

"Alfred," he says. "I don't understand!"

Alfred slowly moves his face to the side and mutters, "It's not fair that you've been getting me all these awesome Christmas presents and I couldn't even figure out how to buy you one and I really really want to."

Ivan instantly pales at the confession and pushes the blonde off of him. He tries to quickly scramble away from the scene and crawl for the door, but Alfred latches onto his legs and sends him crashing into the floor with the blonde laying on top of his legs.

"Where're you goin'?" he asks. "Ivaaaaan…"

"I'm sorry," the other murmurs against the floor. "I didn't mean to keep giving you gifts, it was only supposed to be the one time, but you always looked so happy getting them and I liked knowing that it was because of me and I couldn't stop."

The room goes silent afterwards, though it's only for a moment before the sounds of Alfred shuffling off of Ivan's legs and plopping down next to him fill the air. Ivan attempts to continue on his way but the blonde keeps a good hold of him by grabbing onto his scarf and forces him to look at him. Ivan only retaliates by keeping his eyes shut tightly and Alfred only stares at his heated face while the room goes quiet once more.

"You couldn't stop?" Alfred questions after having enough of the silence.

The lids of Ivan's eyes slowly begin to open, though he continues to avoid any eye contact with Alfred, even as the blonde reaches forward to brush away part of his bangs lowers his hand to cup at the other's cheek. Before he is able to continue on with anything though, Ivan picks up the conversation with his own statement.

"You're first gift," he says carefully. "I knew you needed writing utensils because everyone was complaining about the way you stole theirs and thought nothing bad could come out of leaving a small gift that you would most likely forget. But then I overheard the way you lost your cell phone-"

"Yeah, why didn't you just give that back to me normally? Like in person?"

"Wouldn't that come off as creepy?"

"Not any more than leaving anonymous presents."

Ivan promptly lowers his head in an attempt to hide away, only to kept from doing so as the blonde coots closer and uses both hands to level their eye contact. Again, Ivan closes his own to avoid such a thing and Alfred can't resist smiling at his antics.

"You're really cute," he says. "Y'know."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is," Alfred insists. "You're like a huge teddy bear!"

As if to emphasize his example, Alfred wraps his arms loosely around Ivan's neck and nuzzles his head into his chest. Ivan freezes at the movement for little more than a moment before attempting to force the blonde away, pressing his palms flat against the other's shoulder and pushes at his body.

"Alfred," he whines lowly, "Stop it."

"But you're cuddly."

"You still need to stop."

"Why?"

"Because… it makes me uncomfortable."

Alfred ceases his nuzzling and moves his head to face the other, letting his chin dig into Ivan's chest. "Why?"

"Because…" Ivan trails off and after a short shuddering breath, he is able to quietly say, "I like you."

The room goes quiet, almost to the point where not even their breath is audible enough to notice. It's as if it would become one of those scenes, where one confesses their attraction and the recipient either rejects or goes through the pattern of having their breath hitch before delving into an acceptance and the two move on from there.

Alfred's breath does hitch, but instead of responding to Ivan's confession in an adult manner, he decides to pseudo-quote, "I like cake."

Ivan's eyes widen only a fraction and for little more than a second before his lips widen in a smile and he laughs lightly at the reply.

"Wait, did you get that?" Alfred asks, somewhat taken aback.

His bewilderment only grows as Ivan happily nods to the best of his abilities and without any hesitation, leans upward and presses their lips together harshly.

Instantly, Ivan shuts his eyes, if only out of fear of having either of his eyes taken out by Alfred's glasses. It's only after the blonde tilts his head to keep their noses from mashing against one another that he actually does realize what is happening.

He presses his palms flat against the other's shoulders and nudges him away, all the while pleading for him to stop.

"What?" Alfred asks. "What's wrong?"

"You're kissing me."

"Well, yeah, I thought you liked me."

"I do, but you're drunk."

"Nah, I'm pretty sure I can still get it up if you wanna go that far."

"That's not what I meant," Ivan mumbles as he turns his head away while feeling his face heat up once more.

Alfred reaches out once more to him, cupping his cheek and forcing the other to make eye contact which Ivan does so willingly this time around.

"What do you mean?" he asks.

Ivan's mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water before finally able to replay with, "I don't want to be some drunken memory."

The words hit Alfred instantly, and in little more than a few seconds he realizes through the light bit of fog in his mind that it may not have been the most clever idea to be so affectionate with the other man while under the influence.

"I…" he begins and trails off. "Don't want that either."

Before Ivan is able to say anything in response, Alfred ducks his head down to close the gap between them once more and gently pecks at his lips before pressing their foreheads together. It's in this position, with Alfred's glasses being a nuisance and Ivan trying with all his might to keep from turning an even darker shade of red, that a shot sentence is spoken and because a greater gift for the latter than anything Alfred could have ever bought.

"'Cause I like you, too."

As Ivan's breath took it's own moment to hitch while Alfred played the bashful role and attempted to pull away. However, before he is able to do so, Ivan wraps his arms around him and brings him int

"Do you mean it?" he asks.

Alfred blinks owlishly, his cheeks flushed pink as he really begins to recognize that yes, he does in fact feel this way, and finds that in the end he's only able to grin and nod. All the same, Ivan accepts his childish confession and initiates a kiss of his own. It's a little more hesitant, though perhaps more heartfelt now that both parties are aware of the reciprocation for one another's affection.

"This was a really good Christmas," Alfred mutters against his lips and Ivan whole heartedly agrees.

xxx

- I'm such an epic fail. -headdesks-

-It took me forever and I'm so frickin' sorry! Like, you remember Ritsu from Furuba? Yeah, if we were all like, in a room together for some reason I would be spazzing out sorries like no tomorrow just like him. But I won't write it out here, because that would be weird.

- I knew it was gonna be late, but not this late and all. I tried to get it out earlier but like they say, you can sleep in a coffin but the past ain't through with you. -sigh- But this isn't a blog, so I won't get into that.

- Not only is it late, but there is no sexy tiemz. WHY! ... Because, it felt really wrong. Like, it didn't belong, it just wasn't right to do so I cut it. Feel free to maim me. (Though, I would like to point out that it'll be hard for me to bring out new stuff if you do. Yeah, think about that.)

- The holidays are more than over and I'm sorry again, for making everyone wait for so long. But hey, at least I finished. :) No? Ah... Thanks for your guy's patience and I totally wouldn't blame anyone for not reviewing or anything.

-And srsly, this is me right now: youtube . com / watch?v=yPxXa4ORmOw

I'm sorry! DX

xxx

Anonymous Reviews:

Jaaku-san: Thank you.^^

Lumbergh: ...Thank you? And I know, my narration is fail at times. -_-;