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Ivan is usually the quieter one of the two.
But this doesn't mean his mind is any less active or playful. In fact, he is the one who likes to tease Alfred more. He always takes great pleasure in putting all kinds of metaphors on Alfred. You can tell from the sudden upturn of his lips.
Ivan once compared Alfred to a sunflower, for his proud golden head and always straight back. But when he said this, Alfred replied, "This is too ordinary! Besides, it's very Soviet!" So Ivan stared at Alfred as he blurted out those childish complaints at an astonishing speed. Soon he realized the flaw of this metaphor: sunflowers can't talk! So he ran away from this thought like a plant with legs. It's always like this. Ivan feels that there are two kinds of love between their silences and words.
After the plant-like metaphor declare a fail, Ivan didn't feel depressed for long. After all, it's very easy to write poems for Alfred. He would say that Alfred's posture when looking up at the sky and talking about the universe is just like a little bird (of course, except when he's singing). Oh, and when he blushes - Ivan hasn't seen a country that blushes so easily in a long time. Usually after a big fight, Alfred would come over to apologize to him, his words stumbling on his tongue like a newborn foal. After seeing that Ivan didn't react, his blue eyes peeked at him from under his eyelashes. Then the Russian had no choice but to calm down.
Ah, it turns out he has been standing at the apartment door lost in thought for so long - this also proves the extent of his active mind.
He pushed the door open, took off his scarf and hung it on the coat rack. His thick cotton socks slid smoothly on the wooden floor, reflecting a group of fast-moving and changing light spots, indicating the noisy presence of the other owner. Ivan smiled. Today is Alfred's day off.He took off his coat. A small bag of tomatoes, onions and canned beef was hanging rather comically on the empty sleeve of his suit. Ivan was preparing the ingredients for borscht - of course, it could also be used to make hamburgers if Alfred suddenly changed his mind,once again. He caught the bag before it hit the ground. Perfect.
Ivan slowly walked to the kitchen and put the ingredients in the sink before moving to the living room. His little lover was curled up in the oversized soft sofa, his golden hair sticking out in all directions (Ivan guessed he might have just woken up), holding a Switch controller. Ivan glanced at the screen. As expected, Zagreus did a backflip and pulled out two guns to shoot. Alfred was clearly having a great time. Honestly, Ivan has never agreed with the American's taste in games. Look at Tetris! It's exquisite, elegant and logical. In fact, this set of equipment was originally bought for Alfred, although Ivan later got his own controller. But when they rarely sat in front of the screen together, they always preferred to play single-player games and use sarcasm, ridicule, and even sticky kisses to prevent each other from breaking their best records. See, competition, this seems to be the base color of their relationship. Sometimes Ivan would make up his mind to change their way of getting along, which is like that of teenage boys, but every time Alfred reached out his hand with a challenging look in his eyes, he couldn't help but hold it.
When he got closer, he could see the creases of glasses under Alfred's eyes, confirming his guess. But he didn't walk over to Alfred. Trying to get a kiss when the American was completely absorbed in the game would only fail. So Ivan went around the sofa, leaned down and kissed Alfred's soft forehead. Alfred let out a happy hum from his throat - he was wondering why Ivan hadn't come to kiss him yet!
After getting what he wanted, Alfred lifted his face to look at Ivan. His blue eyes reflected fragmented light, like bright glass candy. Ivan suppressed a smile at his own metaphor and then announced, "I'm going to make borscht tonight." “Awww...” Alfred frowned. "But I want to eat..."
"No way," Ivan flatly refused. "Do you remember you've already used this right last time?"
Alfred fell silent. Ivan could only see his lips pout slightly. "All right, all right," the Russian raised his hands. "Hamburger."
“YEEEEEP——!” Everything happened so fast. Alfred threw himself into Ivan's arms, wrapped his arms around Ivan's neck and gave him a passionate and light kiss. "Vanya! I know you're the best!" Then his attention quickly returned to the screen. Ivan stared at the golden head in silence for a moment, and then noticed that Alfred seemed to sit up a little straighter. The honey-like sticky hair was entangled around Ivan's shirt buttons, almost touching his lower abdomen, just like a cat that couldn't help but follow its owner's scent.
So Ivan couldn't help but wonder, would Alfred purr like a cat? He then gently scratched his lover's chin, with a spirit of verification, and stepped back before Alfred could react.
A punch in the air, followed by - "Braginsky, did you think I was a cat again!？” The voice was exasperated, and on closer listening, there was a hint of embarrassment.
Mr. Braginsky gave a vague laugh, turned on his heel, and prepared to make a hamburger for Alfred.