DISCLAIMER: I, NOR BLAKE BISHOP, OWN HETALIA OR ITS CHARACTERS!
A/N – Woohoo! First things first, I'm not dead. Second thing, I would very much like to thank my co-writer Blake Bishop for putting up with my oddness and for writing for a wonderful Ivan. The format of the story is in RP style, so it has alternating POVs and slightly different styles of writing since I wrote for Alfred (who I apologize for ahead of time for being slightly out of character) and Blake Bishop (a great and talented Hetalia fic writer…read Russian Radio!) wrote for our beloved Ivan…and translated his Russian for all of us non-Russian speakers.
A couple more things to make note of: One, this is an Ivan/Alfred fic, which means yaoi/shonen-ai ahead! Two, this takes place in a dorm college. And three, Alfred does NOT have his glasses...yet. That's important people!
Well, time for my usual warnings
THIS STORY IS RATED "T" FOR:
Language, violence, Gilbert being an awesome asshole, and shonen-ai.
Well, the rating may go up later, depending on whatever happens (chances are, it'll just go up for Gilbert's potty mouth and violence). Well, for now, enjoy the story and make sure to read and review! Oh, and again: read Russian Radio! It's awesome.
Oh yeah. And the title is actually the title of a Vocaloid song that has nothing to do with the story plot itself. We just liked the title. Heh. Anyway, next time, you might hear from Blake-chan.
Anyway, enjoy!
Sweet Trap
By:
Blake Bishopp
&
-Minosuke Ichigo-
Chapter One
Alfred F. Jones was the epitome of not happy at the moment. Yes, he understood that Kiku liked his quiet time, but did he have to go to the headmaster of school to get Alfred put in another room? So what if Alfred liked to listen to the radio at the late hours of the night, and so what if he crawled into bed with Kiku after watching a scary movie? It was all for the sake of heroics! Well, maybe not the radio part. That was only because he was bored out of his mind and the crickets outside of his (now Kiku's) dorm drove him insane.
"Really? I was in that room first…" He mumbled, giving Kiku his best puppy look. Matthew was better at it since he had the teddy bear and big glasses that added onto the cute factor, but that didn't stop Alfred from trying anyway. Kiku had, at least, been kind enough to help Alfred carry his belongings to his new room.
Kiku gave him a deadpanned look. "I get that look from Yong Soo too often, Alfred-san. I believe I have become immune." Alfred swore under his breath. Kiku smiled a bit. "But you get points for trying."
Alfred snorted, not pleased with the smaller male's reply. Heroes "did," not "tried!" Shaking his head, he looked at the door that seemed almost foreboding in some weird way. In all of his days at Gakutalia, he had never seen a door that practically radiated villainous waves of evil. Or maybe that was just the broken AC that was pumping out too much cold air. Either way, the American was convinced that whatever laid beyond the icy door was evil, plain and simple.
He kept his eyes on the door and nudged Kiku. "Uh…am I the only one that thinks this room's creepy and I haven't even looked in it yet?"
Kiku was silent for a minute. "…Yes. You did watch the Ring last night, after all." Even he couldn't avoid adding, in as playful a tone as he could muster, "However, I suppose you could be sensing those that had died in the room…those sensitive to such things are often victimized, Alfred-san. Please sleep safely tonight." With that ominous warning, he left, leaving a trembling and terrified Alfred behind.
"W-w-wait! Kiku! D-don't leave me here all alone!" Alfred pleaded, but his friend (one of few) was already gone. Shaking from both fear and cold, he looked back at the door. Oh, this was evil. Evil and wrong.
Calm down, Alfred! You're a hero! Just open the door…Yup. Opening the door…now. When his shaking body didn't respond to his thoughts, he scowled. Oh, he hated being afraid of ghosts, but honestly! How could he not be afraid of something that he couldn't touch? At least the crazy guy in the alien suit that used to break into the school was touchable!
Shaking his head, he steeled his nerves and fished out the key he had been given by Kiku at the ungodly hour of noon. It was Saturday. He was supposed to be in bed still, but no. He was standing in a stupidly cold hallway outside of a stupidly creepy dorm room with all of his stuff piled in two boxes – how Kiku managed it, he wasn't certain – at his feet. And he was shaking like a leaf. Eventually, when he realized that it was going to be impossible to put the damn key into the lock, he just pounded his fist against the door while whimpering, "I'm not afraid of ghosts, I'm not afraid of ghosts…" This mantra was repeated several times as he rubbed his arms through the material of his bomber jacket.
Why the hell hasn't anyone fixed this damn AC yet?! It's not that freaking hot outside! He thought bitterly, gritting his teeth and beating on the door again. I think my ears are gonna fall off…
[---]
Ivan Braginski sat on his bed and sulked. He was feeling an odd mixture of emotions, some of which included annoyed and offended and even slightly disappointed.
He already missed Toris. Well, actually he missed a good portion of his past roommates, but Toris was his favorite. The brunet had always been his favorite. But for some strange reason, Toris had asked to be moved to a new room. According to the headmaster, "any room that's at least half a mile away, even if it's infested by starving hounds" was what the brunet had requested word for word.
Ivan sighed and moodily glared at the poor unsuspecting wall across from him. Was he really that bad that someone would choose starving hounds over him? He glanced at his suspiciously red-stained water pipe that leaned against his bed and at the various empty vodka bottles that where scattered haphazardly around the room and decided that he might be slightly intimating. But looks were usually deceiving and Ivan was a really nice guy deep down. Deep, deep down.
The Russian sighed again and decided to look at the silver lining of his situation. Sure, Toris may be in a different room, but Ivan would still get to see him around the campus. Especially if he decided to follow the brunet around. And Ivan would be getting a new roommate soon, according to the headmaster. This meant he'd get a new friend! Or at least someone he could torment for a while until the unlucky sap got the hell out of dodge. Ivan smiled to himself when he realized that he'd torment whoever walked through that door, even if they did earn "friend" status. Perhaps this is why he can't keep any roommates...
Suddenly, there was a knocking on the door. Ivan glanced at the door and gave it a inquisitive look. He couldn't think of anyone who'd actually want to visit him and his new roommate would have a key. For a fleetingly hopeful moment, Ivan considered that maybe Toris had come back to him. Then the knocking continued obnoxiously and Ivan gave the door an annoyed look. He was going to answered the damn thing when he was good and ready to!
Ivan unlocked the door and peeked out into the hallway. Sadly, there was no sign of Toris. Only some shivering blond that wasn't Toris. The Russian guessed that the blond was his new roommate and gave him a once-over. Golden hair, sky blue eyes, and a strange air of optimism and childishness seemed to radiate off him. Ivan suddenly wanted to punch the blond right in the face very badly.
For some reason that Ivan couldn't explain, he absolutely hated the shorter blond and all his...sunniness. The only reason that Ivan held back was the curious fact that the sunny blond was shivering and that brought waves of sick pleasure to the Russian. If he kept that up, Ivan would probably end up liking him as much as he liked Toris.
Ivan smiled warmly at the blond, which made him look like a psycho killer about to strike. Not that Ivan minded, since it usually brought more discomfort to those around him. "Hello there. My name's Ivan Braginski. You are my new roommate, da?" He asked, sounding quite childish. But luckily, Ivan did that on purpose. It seemed to bother people for some reason and if there was one thing that the Russian lived for, it was to make everyone around him as uncomfortable as possible.
Ivan moved away from the door as to let the blond in. He continued to smile "warmly" at his new roommate. "Ah? What's wrong? You look uncomfortable, comrade," he said, sounding more amused than concerned. Which he was. Ivan hoped that this one was at least fun to pick on.
Alfred gave Ivan a look that was a cross between confused and grateful, but it was quickly changed to annoyance when Ivan opened his mouth. How could someone so freakishly tall sound so childish and keep a straight face? "Uh, yeah. The name's Alfred F. Jones!" He tried to sound cheerful, but only succeeded in shivering more from the cold and the waves of creepiness that practically radiated off of the tall, tall Russian in front of him.
He grabbed up his two boxes and shuffled inside, glancing around the room to check for traps or evil minions. Seeing only vodka bottles – How the hell did a minor get a hold of vodka?! – and a faucet pipe with red stains on it, he relaxed slightly, only to tense when he actually noticed the strange red stains on the pipe. Oh shit! P-people have died in here! And this psycho's the one that did it! I knew it! Suppressing the urge to throw his things at Ivan and bring the obvious villain to justice, he hurried to the unclaimed part of the room and tossed his boxes onto the bed. He eyed the pipe a bit more, gritting his teeth.
Alfred glanced back at Ivan, then the pipe, trying to judge just how quickly the Russian could get to it if things got dirty. "So…your roommate got sick of you too?" He continued to watch the pipe as if expecting it to jump at him. Jokingly, he asked, grinning at Ivan and finally tearing his gaze away from the dangerous weapon, "Or did you kill 'im or something?" Oh, he was going to regret that question, he just knew it the moment the words left his mouth. He shoved his hands into his coat's pockets, trying and succeeding in looking relaxed and generally happy. Chill out, Alfred. After all, you're a hero! There's no freakin' way some commie's gonna be able to kill me. Reassured by his inward prep-talk, he nudged one of the vodka bottles with the toe of his sneaker, keeping his eyes on Ivan's. Besides, he's probably just tryin' to freak you out! Just stay cool and strong! He grinned brightly, confidence effectively boosted back to normal levels.
Ivan watched the blond, this Alfred F. Jones, as he introduced himself to the room he and Ivan would be sharing. Ivan noted that Alfred had spotted his dear water pipe and he had to keep from laughing. Many of his past roommates hadn't been too keen to room with him after they found that. And sometimes the vodka scared people away too, but usually it was the pipe. It seemed like Alfred was a bit perturbed, in fact. How amusing.
However, Ivan was not nearly as amused by the blonde's question. It wasn't that Toris was sick of Ivan. The brunet just needed some time away, what with his unusually high stress levels. And Ivan most certainly did not kill his dear Toris. ...Although he did almost kill that one guy once, but wasn't Toris and it didn't really matter. Besides, who was Alfred to ask such questions? The only thing that stopped Ivan from getting violent was the fact that Alfred, at the very least, acted like he wasn't trying to offend Ivan. Maybe he was just really stupid and couldn't help the dumb coming from his mouth.
The Russian gave Alfred an annoyed smile and chuckled hollowly. "Nyet, I didn't ...kill my last roommate," he informed easily, emphasizing 'kill' as if he'd actually done something else unspeakable to Toris. Which he hadn't done anything to the brunet. Unless stalking counted as unspeakable, which Ivan decided that it didn't.
Ivan slowly started to circle Alfred and watched the blond closely for any signs of discomfort. Most of his past roommates would show signs of nervousness about now, and since Alfred wasn't...Ivan had to fix that. And what better way to cause concern than making it seem like an attack was on the way? The Russian laughed slightly at his own sadistic thoughts. "I have a feeling we will get along marvelously, friend Alfred," he said, keeping his voice as childish as possible.
"I hope so. I mean, it's no fun rooming with someone if you can't get along with 'um…" Alfred was stretching his limits now, wanting nothing more than to just punch Ivan in his smiling face. Something about the tall, tall, tall Russian just made him feel all sorts of violent urges that he had never actually felt before. And even worse was there was a tiny bit of awe and excitement in the mix of violent emotions. Gritting his teeth and trying to keep his cool, he kept his grin in place, but it was obvious from the determined gleam in his eyes that he wasn't all that scared with the situation. Just…irritated. And maybe a little freaked out that there could be ghosts around.
G-gya…don't think about ghosts right now! He'll think I'm afraid of him! And then he's won! He shook his head and put a hand on Ivan's chest in an effort to stop the Russian's shark-like circling because that…was just scary. Especially since the Russian – despite his child-like tone of voice and smile – was freakishly tall and built like a brick wall. He shuddered at the mental image of Ivan eating his head and said in a voice that was weaker than he had intended, "All right. Lets make some stuff clear. Obviously this is one of those alpha dog things where you try to get me to tuck my tail between my legs and submit to your supposed awesomeness. Not happening, because I am a hero! And heroes don't back down, even when the odds are against them!" He removed his hand from Ivan's chest, trying not to think about how toned Ivan was, as that would result in even worse images of Alfred being broken in half or smashed head-first into the floor.
All right, that so sounded better in my head. And why the hell is my voice shaking? Oh, right…it's cold, and there could be ghosts here…He thought bitterly, still shaking from the cold air that blasted into the room from under the door. Combine that with the fact that he was officially convinced that the room was haunted by Ivan's victims, and you got one scared looking teenager that was just trying to act tough. Despite this, he retained eye contact with Ivan, squared his shoulders, and showed no sign of giving into the fear in his eyes.
Ivan was torn between being highly annoyed with Alfred and being highly amused. He didn't like that the blond ended his circling (it was so fun to do, after all), but he wasn't quite sure why he was amused. ...Maybe because his new roommate actually had the guts to stand up to him? That was probably it. That or Alfred's ridiculous idea that Ivan was trying to establish dominance (which was true) and that his being a "hero" would hinder Ivan in any way, shape, or form. Which it wouldn't. Especially with Alfred's almost unnoticeable shaking, which just proved that the blond was at least slightly affected by Ivan.
The Russian laughed and ruffled up Alfred's hair. "Is that so? Well, I'm a little hurt you'd think so badly of me already, friend Alfred." Ivan smiled in a way that said that he wasn't really upset about Alfred's (correct) accusation. He walked back to his own bed and plopped down gracelessly. "Well, I hope I can prove to you that I am not so bad. Otherwise, I fear you won't properly enjoy your time with me," he said, a slightly creepy tone tinting his words.
Alfred grunted a bit in dismay when his hair was ruffled by Ivan's large hand, swatting at the offending limb uselessly. "I'm not a dog…" He grumbled, sitting on his own bed and staring at Ivan as if he were waiting for some kind of attack. Which, truthfully, he was. When none came, he finally risked speaking. "Well, uh…yeah, don't ever say 'enjoy' like that ever again. I think I might just hit you next time…" He obviously meant no harm at his words, as his voice had a joking tone in it, but there was also a hint of truth in it. He rubbed the back of his neck, looking away and at the wall.
Ivan really didn't seem too bad now that they were just sitting there talking. Besides, Ivan had the power to kick him out of the room, and who knew what sort of room mate he would be stuck with next time. It could be Yong Soo…stupid copy-right infringement delusional bastard. He shuddered at the idea of being groped (again) by the insane Korean that seemed to believe that his brothers had breasts. He grinned at Ivan. Make with the friendly talk!
"So…whaddoya do for fun, Ivan?" He kicked his feet lazily, hands on either side of his hips. He tilted his head to the side a bit, looking rather puppy-like as he added, "Other than drinking and doing questionable things with that pipe." Honestly, he really didn't like that pipe and just wished it would disappear.
Ivan silently raised an eyebrow and tried to imagine Alfred hitting him. He doubted that the blond would be able to cause even slight harm to him, but then again Ivan could be proven wrong. After all, Alfred seemed to have, at the very least, a strong personality. Who's to say he didn't have a strong body to match? Ivan smiled to himself with the sudden mental image of Alfred throwing full-grown bulls around for fun. As if that could ever happen.
Ivan chuckled at Alfred's question. "'Other than'? My, you've just eliminated most of my fun with that." The Russian hummed in thought and put his finger to his chin in a 'thinking' position. "Let's see...Well, I enjoy playing hockey, it really is a lovely sport, especially when someone gets beaten up. Also, I like to do things that remind me of home," he said, actually making a real smile. Not that he'd admit that he had shown any symptom of normality in front of his new roommate. Deciding to balance out for his previous statement, Ivan's voice turned more innocent that it just had been and a slight shadow covered his face, "I also enjoy following around my roommate, but don't worry friend Alfred. I still follow around my ex-roommate, Toris, so you are safe, da?"
Oh yeah, THAT didn't scream serial killer in the making. Alfred, thankfully, resisted the urge to laugh nervously and tell Ivan just how insane he sounded. Instead, he said, "Hockey, huh? Matty plays that a lot. Maybe you've played against him?" I hope not. He added mentally, grinning in an effort to cover up his discomfort. "Stalking…uh, I think that's illegal." Was all he had to say on the matter of Ivan's second idea of fun. He had, officially, decided to ignore any and all comments related to the pipe. The drinking, hell, he did that sometimes. Obviously not as much as Ivan, though.
He watched the smile – a real one, not the creepy one it had suddenly changed to – cross Ivan's face and suddenly felt a twinge of…he wasn't sure what it was or even if he liked it or not. Okee, uh, probably just because that's the first human thing he's done. Yeah, that's it. Shaking his head, Alfred decided to press on the human subject of home. "Home, huh? So…what's Russia like anyway? Lots of soups and snow, right?" Yes, even he knew that was many levels of "lame" but he was at a loss. How did one go about trying to get along with someone that would probably murder puppies while singing "London Bridge Was Falling Down?" Probably not the way he was going about it, but Alfred was not known for tact or even intelligent thought on most days.
Ivan furrowed his brows slightly in concentration. Did he know anyone by the name of 'Matty'? ...He couldn't recall. And he didn't even bother replying to the rude 'stalker' comment. He was not a stalker. He just cared for Toris very deeply. And before Toris was Raivis, and before Raivis was Eduard, and before him was Tino, and there were a few others he liked enough to follow (not stalk), but that was another story entirely. Besides, all the fun things seem to be illegal nowadays.
The Russian tilted his head and smiled at Alfred, trying to not to laugh at 'soups and snow'. He sincerely hoped that soups and snow wasn't the first thing that came to mind when normal people thought about Russia. "Da, there's several popular soups and it does happen to snow quite a bit, depending on where you're at during what month. The more urban areas are more fast paced will the country is more relaxed, like most places in the world, and places like St. Petersburg and Moscow are quite beautiful. Oh, and as amazing as this may seem to you, there's actually friendly people who live there," he said with a slight chuckle and he mentally added, I happen to not be one of them.
"So what's it like where you come from? Probably lots of fast food, I'm sure," Ivan said jokingly, but not really.
Alfred seemed to actually be…interested. He leaned forward a bit to catch every detail that Ivan was saying, and Alfred felt amazed at how normal Russia seemed. Truthfully, about the only things that he was actually interested in were piloting and other cultures. And archeology, but the former two were his absolute favorites…seconded only by movie making anyway. Maybe I could make a movie about this guy…I dunno if people would wanna watch a film about a serial killer, but maybe. He managed to, thankfully, keep his thoughts to himself.
"My home? Well, for one thing, this is America, so you probably know about the basic stuff already." His expression seemed nostalgic, sad even. He missed his hometown, but because of some idiot that actually wasn't him, he was stuck in the school without a home to go to during the summer and winter months. Matthew and Arthur always let him stay with them, but he always felt like he was inconveniencing them…He shook his head to get rid of the troubling memories of home. Maybe talking about our "homes" wasn't such a good idea after all. "But, yeah…America's awesome, right? But I bet you probably can't wait to go back home. Home's where the heart is, after all!" He laughed, attempting to cover up the long and awkward silence that had fallen over him moments before.
He shifted, setting his boxes on the floor so he could lay down. "Uh, listen, I'm gonna catch some Z's. Moving's always a hassle…" He flopped down against the mattress, staring at the ceiling. He gave Ivan a grin before rolling so his back was to him. "'Night, Ivan."
Ivan raised an eyebrow, trying to understand why Alfred seemed downhearted. He was already in America, so why was he sad that he was just in a different part of America? It's not like he was in an entirely different country or anything. But then again, he could have from, like, Alaska or somewhere far off like that (though Ivan was doubtful that Alfred was actually from Alaska). The Russian decided not to mention how he was, in a way, happy to not be in Russia. He was almost one hundred percent positive that his darling little sister, Natalia, was trekking all over Russia looking for him so they could be married because I love you so much brother. Ivan mentally cringed and prayed she never realized that he had escaped to America.
The Russian mumbled a goodnight and gave the American a curious look. Alfred was certainly quite brave (or really stupid), since no one had ever just turned their backs to him and fallen asleep. Most people were too afraid he'd kill them or some other horrific thing, so it felt a little...odd. Ivan watched the blond sleep for a bit and idly wondered how long it would take for this one to run away. Not that it mattered. Ivan wouldn't be too upset if Alfred left now. He still had Toris after all.
Ivan huffed and glanced around the room. Maybe I should clean up... The Russian spotted a vodka bottle that wasn't completely empty and he picked it up. He laid back on his bed and took a swig. Or maybe not.