"Hmm? I do not have classes yet tomorrow either." Ivan answered, unable to keep from smiling as his nickname surfaced once again. Ivan had not forgotten the hand in his, but it simply seemed natural to hold it. He had not considered letting go. "Ah, is no trouble. As I said, I enjoy cooking. Besides, will be interesting for me to see inside an American food shop for the first time." He continued, before listening to what else Alfred had to say. "If you would like to help, that would be nice. You are teaching me things, so it makes sense that I should do the same, and it could be fun~"

Like Alfred, Ivan was considering the prospects offered by a wash, though he didn't know whether to expect a bath, a shower, or possibly both. He would be happy either way, although his preference was for immersing himself in heated water and lying there for a while. That felt really nice and toasty. "Brownies? That sounds like fun~ I have not made brownies before, but I have eaten some, so I know that I like them." He answered, while ambling vaguely in the direction of Alfred's car, his head filled with visions of cookery and hot water. "Which hero's movies come first, by the way?"

Alfred nodded, seeming pleased that they could have an entire day to goof off again. "Oh! I also don't have to work tomorrow, so we can chill tomorrow and do whatever," he added, nodding resolutely. "And yeah, I can show you where things are at in case I happen to be gone and you need something from there," he told him, finally releasing the Russian's hand as they approached his car. Alfred dug into his pocket to fish out his keys. "And while we're there we can just go ahead and get stuff for a few days, yeah? Helping you make real food that isn't hamburgers sounds like a good way to spend a few days after all."

((What do you think the coffee shop should be called? Oh, and cute bunnies~ What happened to your bat-guy?))

Alfred's sweet smile was there again, and Ivan thought that it made the other
fellow look as though he would not look out of place among seraphic
company. Other expressions of his that Ivan had seen conveyed
different impressions, but this one seemed almost cherubic. “Bacon
is nice~“ Ivan agreed, nodding, while he watched Alfred's posture with a
mixture of puzzlement and curiosity. What was he doing on that hood?
Oh, well, he'd sprung up again, so it didn't matter. “French toast?
That sounds interesting – I do not believe I have tried that.”
Ivan mused aloud, before chuckling. “You really are like a
Jack-in-the-box, aren't you?”

It was both amusing and endearing, the way that Alfred was so enthusiastic about
this. It was good to know that it was so easy to make him happy, and
to know that his efforts would be appreciated, and eagerly
anticipated. Once the car was unlocked, Ivan clambered inside and
fastened himself in, his mind returning to the question of what
Alfred's house would look like. “Is it far to go, your house?”

((Oh well I figured these were cuter c: I did a three-person collab with two of my friends where I did the sketch, one lined and colored, and the last shaded ;v; So it's also got a bit more meaning than my sleeping batnerd uvu

((That makes sense - plus, they're incredibly cute. Do they have names? By the way, Americana sounds good to me.))

"Very well, I will be sure to let you know." Ivan agreed, before listening to what Alfred had to say about the delicate matter of chocolate in burgers, and pulling a rumpled face with his tongue poking out. "Bleh, that does not sound like a good idea to me either." He responded, wondering where the idea had even sprung from in the first place. "There are some things in life that should simply not be mixing, and you have described two of them." All the same, he wondered what sort of things would work well in a hamburger. Perhaps ham itself? After all, were not burgers usually made of beef?

Ivan was vaguely startled by Alfred's outburst, and he wondered whether he had said too much. Was Alfred upset? No, it didn't seem to be the case, but he was apparently launching himself at the idea of demonstrating a particular form of breakfast for him in the morning. Was it really so surprising that he had not eaten French toast? Well, he supposed that he would find out what Alfred was so enthused about soon enough. "I will take your word for it." He supplied, "If you say that it will be nice, it probably will. You have not steered me wrong so far where food is concerned." He was actually already looking for breakfast tomorrow, and he wondered whether he would be able to get up soon enough to watch Alfred cooking.

"Hmm? Well, the store should probably come first, or we will be going back and forth." He answered, considering this, and noting the information about Alfred's house. "Aside from food, is there anything that we should get?" He asked, feeling that it would be best if they had a clear idea of what they needed to accomplish when they reached the shop.

Alfred listened to Ivan in regards to the hamburger situation and the French Toast, looking thoughtful in regards to what they may need. "That is actually a good question. DO you have anything else you'd want?" he asked, glancing at the Russian. "Drink or food wise? Because I'll probably just get soda otherwise since it's been my default for...years, really." He laughed gently. Soda itself could be so diverse. Orange soda, apple soda, cola... He smiled a bit. "But I mean you don't have to drink it if you don't want to. I want you to be as comfortable living here as possible, after all!" He offered Ivan a brief grin before he had to look forward again to take a turn.

((I dunno, actually - how old do you have to be to drink alcohol in America? Also, do we want silly drunk characters getting stuck in bins and stuff? I reckon Ivan would be an overly affectionate, huggy drunk. I'm not sure, what do you think?))

"Well, I have heard that there is a thing called cream soda that I have been wondering about for a while..." Ivan mused, considering the question. "What about juice? I usually drink orange juice in the morning - it is like having a cup of sunshine~ I also like squashes, if that helps." Truth to tell, he couldn't really think of much else off the top of his head. Ivan gave Alfred a little smile in return, feeling pleased and flattered by the bouncy Al-Puppy's generosity and consideration. "Thank you, I will remember that."

Ivan was caught off-guard by Alfred's next question, and he thought that he could hear undertones of uncertainty and reluctance in the voice which was, at least on the surface, still cheery and bright. Ivan felt a flare of panic within him, as he reached into the depths of his grey matter to find an answer, and hopefully avoid kicking the puppy.  "Ah, ahh, that is, it is not set into stone." He began hesitantly, fidgeting with the scarf he'd wrapped around himself again. "Is different than normal. We stay one year, for definite, then choose whether to transfer to college we have been exchanged to or return home. So, I do not know, it could go either way, depending how the year goes." He hoped that this answer would be good enough to prevent his new friend from feeling sad and regretful, and that he had solved the problem of dashed hopes for long-term friendship with the knowledge that there was a choice. It would be such a shame for Alfred to be sad because of him.

((You have to be 21 here uvu

((Hmm, maybe they should be? I dunno. One of them's got to be older than the other, though, given that they have different birthdays, so maybe one of them's waiting on a birthday to be old enough? Just tossing ideas.))

"I appreciate that - I would most likely be confused in the store, maybe get lost if it is big enough. Without directions, I get lost easy in unfamiliar places." Ivan responded, pleased that at least some of the tense undertone had evaporated. He didn't really fancy the idea of becoming lost amid packed shelves of colourful things and trolley-pushing strangers. That would be very embarrassing.

"Ah, well, you have gotten off to good start, da? I mostly expected highlights of today to be getting to drink some coffee, and then flopping onto whatever bed was given to me and snoozing. Instead, I have had a lovely trip to a park with a new friend, and talked about many things, and day is not yet over - and I got to have nap as well." Ivan recited, smiling. He didn't know why he was so quick to reassure Alfred - after all, they had not even known one another for 24 hours yet. Nonetheless, something about him made the cuddly Russian reluctant to allow Alfred to be disappointed or despondent about anything. Perhaps because this person clicked with him as he could not recall before? This was looking to be his first best friend in years. Not that he would say that aloud - he did not wish Alfred to think him pathetic.

Truthfully, Ivan was feeling conflicted about the decision he would eventually have to make. On the one hand, it had been hard enough to leave his home country, and he was sure to feel homesick. He did not want to feel as though he had abandoned it totally. On the other hand, he was having a really good time in America already, and had met a great new friend that he had grown peculiarly attached to. This was the land that could grant him his dreams, and it had Alfred in it. This could be tricky.

"Is it very big?" Ivan asked, referring to the store.

((That's a pretty good idea yeah ovo Should Ivan be the older one?))

((Probably, all things considered. I'm imagining what Alfred would do when his birthday rolls around now, and I can quite easily see him thoroughly startling Ivan.))

"Well, at least I can have your help today." Ivan responded, his mouth quirking into a little half-smile as he was patted. He was becoming more used to this form of contact, as though he was easing back into an old habit he never knew he had, and it was oddly reassuring. "I understand that you have responsibilities that are not me - do not worry, I am sure I will get the hang of this place soon."

It was a feeling of melty warm gooeyness - to describe it the way Ivan's mind interpreted it - to see the softened smile that Alfred was giving him, and it was touching to hear that the sunny American cared about how his days would pan out. "For me, Kansas is goldmine." He murmured, feeling a little abashed. "Of stuff? Maybe not, but there is plenty of sunshine and happiness, da?" What on Earth have I just said to him? Ahh, nononono, he will think me a fool, and he will be right. Ivan thought to himself, his lavender eyes widening slightly as his ex
pression tensed.

Feeling somewhat stifled by his awkward conversational skills, and drawing his scarf closer into himself - muffling half his face in the thing out of sheer mortification, Ivan peered out of the window when he was told that they had arrived. It was a relief to see that it was not as huge as he had imagined, and he sighed as he exited the car. "Ahh, I have been worrying for nothing, it seems. I was expecting something bigger. Hmm? Oh, do not worry, I am used to being stared at. It is not a problem."

Alfred blinked at Ivan mentioning that Kansas was indeed a goldmine, then he laughed gently and wandered over to give his friend a pat on the back. "You don't have to act all embarrassed, man, I'm not judging you." He gave the Russian a grin before he started towards the store. "I mean, everyone has different views of things so just because I can't see things the way you do doesn't mean you should be ashamed or anything." He shrugged idly. "Now, let's go find the stuff we need to make real food."

He does not think I am being ridiculous? Ivan thought, blinking himself as he listened to what Alfred had to say. "Thank you." He mumbled, as the words being spoken to him jarred him out of his contemplation of how very daft he was able to make himself sound. Peering over the top of his scarf at his friend for a moment, he nearly fell behind, before he pushed the scarf back down off his face and hastily followed the younger male into the shop.

Alfred had not laughed at him, and he had said that he was not judging him - somehow, that felt as though it mattered a lot, and Ivan could not help but feel as though this was someone that he wanted to stay close to. Even now, he was bouncy and full of just as much bubble-filled amiability as before, regardless of Ivan's verbal blunder. The look of accepting cheeriness on his friend's face as he'd told Ivan not to worry about being judged was one that he felt he wanted to see again, and he felt that it was never really far away. Smiling faintly over the scarf that now did not reach above his chin, Ivan followed where Alfred went, trying to take mental notes of where things were.

The first things that Ivan asked to find were butter and flour, as these were staples in many types of cookery. Also appearing on Ivan's mental list were eggs, sugar, condensed milk, varying types of meat acquired on an opportunistic basis (Eg "Ooh, what about that one?"), sugar, lemon juice, vanilla extract, dark chocolate, carrots and other vegetables - stuff like that. He hadn't gotten as far as thinking about where the drinks were kept yet, as he was trying to keep everything else straight in his head.

Alfred trotted through the store, a cart being pushed ahead of him, at least one hand ending up moving around as he motioned to various areas they weren't exploring yet to say where things were as they passed them. He was heading towards the things they might need to use to cook, since Ivan had mentioned what they'd need before.

"Da, that makes sense." Ivan responded, nodding. After all, it would be best to let the cold items be cold for as long as possible. "Sugar, condensed milk, vanilla extract, dark chocolate, vegetable thingies, cinnamon and maybe other spices, oh, and do we need bread?" He listed off, half to himself - he did not wish to forget anything, after all.  "Oh, and the drinks - those are fine out of fridge, apart from milk." He added, wondering whether he should consider any other type of drink. "Ah, by the way, how old are you Alfya?" He asked, his ex
pression inquisitive.

He was in the middle of noting which aisle they'd just entered when he asked this, and beginning to attempt the assessment of which loaf would be the best deal. He was fine with both wholemeal and white, though the half-and-half type seemed like a good between point, but he did not know which Alfred preferred, so he also asked about this matter. It would be tricky to figure out which to get if he didn't know his friend's preferences. Alfred's earlier comment about him getting something that wasn't for food made him smile, but he wasn't sure he'd know the first place to look. Maybe if he saw something along the way?

Alfred nodded at the list and took a turn to head to the bread aisle, blinking at the sudden question of his age. "Oh, I'm 20. Turn 21 in a couple months. Why?" he responded, tilting his head with a curious ex
pression, not unlike the puppy that Ivan seemed fond of referring to him as.

"Ahh, just wondering whether you were yet old enough to be drinking, that is all." Ivan responded simply, "Myself, I have been twenty-one since December, so I would be able to get drinks here. So it is not long? What is the date? If I know in advance, I can plan for what to do." He added, taking note of the sweet head-tilting that reminded him so of domesticated canids. How was Alfred managing to look so very adorable? Surely such a thing should need practice, but this seemed to come as naturally as smiling to the American.

The gentle squishing of loaves was not a technique that Ivan had picked up before, usually being one to simply check the dates, but he observed with interest. He was not one to pass up a new method of determining what would be good to buy, after all. He wasn't quite sure how old he seemed to Alfred, he mused as they approached the sugar and such. Did he seem older, with his height and such? Did he seem younger, with his goofyness and childish utterances? He didn't know, but did it really matter all that much?

Spotting the sugar as they turned into an aisle, Ivan reached over and picked up the first packet he saw, checking the packaging for any leaks or other faults. Selecting another of slightly lower price but different size, he performed the same check, trying to see which was better.

Alfred laughed softly. "I was born on the Fourth of July! Same day as Captain America," he said with a grin directed up at the Russian man. "Pretty cool I think, since it's also America's Independence Day, so there's fireworks and all that!" He stepped up behind Ivan to watch him examine the sugar, tilting his head a little bit with a curious ex
pression.

((That's perfectly fine. Do you think any familiar faces should pop up as transfers?))

Ahh, so that is when it is! Somehow, that seems to fit you.” Ivan responded, already able to picture Alfred having a blast among the fireworks and probably barbecue-substances. “Mine is on the thirtieth of December – not so prestigious a date, but not long after Christmas.” He added, feeling that it was only polite that he contribute his own birthday to the discussion. True, it had already passed, but it felt as though they were comparing, so he felt it would be a little rude to withhold his own date when Alfred had told of his.

“You did?” Ivan asked, intrigued by the ex
pression on Alfred's face, and by his correct assumption. “That is a little strange – I have been getting similar feeling about you. It is as though we have met before... Spooky, da?” Pausing for a moment, considering what had been said about the Canadian, Ivan felt almost as though he had forgotten something, but he didn't know what. “I would say that maybe we did meet – my family have liked to travel for some time – but were too young to remember? That is all I can think of that would explain us both noticing this oddness. Ahh, but the Matthew boy complicates things – is making lost memory tickling in my head, like when I have forgotten my keys. Could he also have been met at such a time? Perhaps he was on the television once, if they were filming in his area?”

Thoroughly confused, Ivan shrugged helplessly, setting one of the bags into the trolley. “Now
that I think about it, I am reminded of someone I spotted when my family and I went to see Venice. I was nineteen at the time, and there was someone – a girly-looking guy with short brown hair and a funny curly strand – who looked familiar to me. I thought I'd maybe seen him the previous day, but I don't think I did. He was bouncing around and hugging kitties – oh, and pestering someone for pasta. He acted like a little child, and he looked kind of childish as well. I didn't see him for very long, though, and I never learned his name.” Ivan mused aloud, looking and feeling disconcerted. “I remember thinking in the coffee shop that he had similar bubbliness to you – but I had not thought of him for a long time. This is fogging up my brain. What do you think?”

The American cocked his head a litte bit. "This whole situation is kind of weird, honestly, considering all of this...this dejavu going on." He frowned a bit, his ex
pression focusing on being more thoughtful. "I mean, like I said, I'm pretty sure I would have remembered meeting you when we were little because you seem like you're a really memorable person." He ran a hand through his hair with a quiet sigh. "Oh well, we can think more at it when we're at the house I guess since right now we should be focusing on remembering what we need so we can eat." He moved to trot forward, looking for other items that they'd need.