Sweater Weather | Rusame One-shot

Sweater Weather

When Ivan Braginsky heard a knock on the door during a lazy Saturday afternoon, he didn't expect to find Alfred F. Jones, the most popular kid in school, standing at his doorstop. The blond jock was standing there, his eyes focussed on the "Welcome Home" doormat that Ivan's mom had purchased when they first moved there. The boy had his leather satchel thrown over his shoulder and Ivan noticed a red piece of construction paper peeking out of one of the pockets. As soon as Ivan opened the door, Alfred jumped back a step and looked up at him nervously.

"Um- Hey Alfred. What are you doing here?" Ivan spoke first, looking down at his classmate in confusion. Ivan tutored Alfred in calculus every Monday, Tuesday, and Thursday, so seeing him on a Saturday was a surprising turn of events. Ivan noticed the jock had been acting weird the past week, but he just assumed it was just Alfred's annoyance with the subject. As Ivan waited patiently for a response from the American, he noticed Alfred's face turning a little red.

"I- uh- Can we go over the Calculus homework? I'm having some trouble." Alfred asked, his hand on the back of his neck as if he were telling some scandalous lie to his parents.

"Sure. You know it's Saturday, right?" Ivan questioned, wondering why Alfred would want to go over his calculus homework instead of getting ready for a night out with his other friends. Ivan and Alfred weren't exactly in the same friend group. Ivan was actually more friends with Alfred's brother Matthew than Alfred himself. Alfred was a stellar athlete and surprisingly good writer for the school newspaper. Ivan was a little bit of a math geek and the head of the championship-winning debate team. Matthew had asked Ivan if he could tutor Alfred a few nights of the week until he got his grades up. It had been going on a few months now and they had become a bit closer, but Alfred always acted like he was embarrassed to be there when he was studying with Ivan.

"Yeah- I-uh-I know it's a Saturday and all but I'm really struggling with derivatives." Alfred muttered, glancing up at the taller boy with a hopeful gaze.

"Here, come in. My parents aren't home so the house is pretty quiet. We can probably get a lot more work done than on the weekdays! If you want to go over the study guide she gave us last week we can do that too." Ivan said, opening the door for the boy to enter. Alfred awkwardly shuffled in and took his shoes off at the door, which Ivan's mom had told him to do ever since he started getting tutored at their house.

"Do you want anything to eat?" Ivan asked, looking back at the American who was still taking off his shoes in the mudroom.

"I'm fine thanks." Alfred responded, heading over to the kitchen where Ivan was grabbing a water bottle for both of them. As Ivan turned around he shot Alfred a smile and headed towards the stairs. "Are we not studying in the kitchen?" Alfred questioned, confused as to why Ivan was heading up the stairs.

"My backpack in my room and I'm feeling a little sluggish. Why don't we just study in my room?" Ivan asked. They usually never studied in his room because his parents knew he was gay and didn't want any boys in his room. But today he didn't care. It was always so inconvenient dragging all his school supplies downstairs to help Alfred with his math.

"Are your parents okay with that? I mean- aren't you not allowed to have boys in your room or whatever?" Alfred blurted nervously, hesitant to go upstairs.

"Alfred. It's fine. You're not gay and my parents know that. I'm pretty sure you're the most heterosexual person they know." Ivan joked, laughing as he led Alfred up the stairs. Alfred let out a fake chuckle and fidgeted a bit with his hands. Ivan was completely oblivious to the fact that Alfred F. Jones, prom king and most popular kid in school, was 100% gay.

"Welcome to my humble abode." Ivan joked once they reached his door. He opened the door to reveal an incredibly organized room, the only thing on the floor being a neon orange post-it note, which Ivan immediately picked up and threw into his trash bin as if it were a nuclear bomb that was about to explode. Alfred shot him a confused glance at his odd behavior and Ivan shot back a nervous smile. He had a tiny bit of OCD.