Ivar had, through almost his entire fault, ended up on quite a few tabloid covers in his life. The press were always thirsty when it came to finding out what Ragnar's sons were up to. Some were better at avoiding the others than the limelight. But being young, attractive, and disabled made Ivar a prime target. He'd become well-known for the instance two years ago when a paparazzi photographer had asked him what it was like to be a cripple. He'd yanked the camera out of the man's hands and the picture that had ended up in all the salacious magazines was him breaking it right over the poor man's head. It hadn't been the first or last incident of his temper getting the better of him, just the most notable.

But none of that was on his mind tonight. The tabloid reporters were busy off because some politician had been caught in bed with about six hookers and enough coke for half the city. It meant Ivar could relax a little on this blind date. He'd been staunchly against it at first until he'd actually started talking with Alfred. The other teen was kind, thoughtful, and very intelligent, all qualities Ivar enjoyed in other people. There was also something kind of familiar about his face, like he'd seen it somewhere before maybe on the news, but he couldn't quite place it...

No matter. He was more interested in how close Alfred was as they talked over their drinks. When Alfred suggesting leaving the bar, Ivar's stomach did a flip. Well, that was definitely going to make the night more interesting. "Yeah. That would be nice." If Alfred kept leaning in as close as he did, Ivar was going to be hard-pressed not to want to kiss him.