Chapter Text
Everybody loves Friday nights, but if one had to guess who fancies it more, it would definitely be Mizi. At least, that’s what Till reckons as the cheerful pink-haired girl suddenly stands up and exclaims during their picnic lunch:
“Why don’t we do horror movie nights on Friday? It’s been ages since we did something all together,” She clasps her hands together, scanning the group composed of… well, only Till and Sua, to gauge their reaction.
Ivan is not here yet, but should probably arrive any minute after his morning class. Knowing him, he must have stayed after the bell rang to ask the professor some additional questions to “further and deepen his knowledge of the topic”. Truly a model student and a teacher’s pet, this one.
“Why not, but, uhm, Mizi, aren’t you terrified of horror movies?” Till attempts, hesitant on how to phrase this without contradicting her.
“Last time, you ended up hiding in the closet, and you didn’t want to get out of it until I promised I wouldn’t let go of you,” Sua insists. “Not that I’m complaining, but— maybe we should go with rom-coms instead?”
“I know, but…” Mizi lets out a resigned sigh. “I found some really intriguing movies, and I, I believe I can do it, guys!”
She takes her phone out and proceeds to show them the movie posters she found on the internet, which came out in cinemas a few months ago and are now available on less... legal platforms.
“Oh, I’ve already seen that one with Ivan,” Till points out.
Not that recalling this is exactly very pleasant. Watching horror movies with Ivan is deeply unsettling, not to say… frightening? For some reason none of them can fathom, Ivan will act like a creep, chuckling during the most terrifying or gruesome scenes of the film.
"Yeah, there's no way I'm doing that again." Till shakes his head, a cold drop of sweat running down his spine at the dreadful memory. "Especially not with Ivan in the same room. Hell, he's scarier than the movie itself!"
Till does not mention that he had unconsciously moved closer to Ivan on the couch last time, until they ended up huddling up together. Surprisingly, Ivan had not said anything, and if he felt any surprise over Till's actions, he kept it to himself, simply letting his arm rest over Till's shoulders.
"Am I yet again the hot topic of this lunch hangout?" Ivan's voice interrupts Till's train of thought. He drops his bag on the floor and sits on the grass next to Till, glancing at him with a smirk.
"As if." Till averts his eyes and scoffs. Eager to hide his embarrassment, he quickly takes a bite of his sandwich — a bit too hastily, though, because he then proceeds to choke on it, and suddenly he's having a coughing fit. Ivan snorts, and Till wants to insult the bastard for making fun of him, which he can't for obvious reasons, and now he feels greatly humiliated. Even Sua makes a poor attempt at hiding her snickering. Wonderful.
Only Mizi seems to show concern for his pitiful state. "Till, are you okay? Do you need us to apply first aid?"
Well, his state is not that serious. "I, ugh, am, argh, fine!" he manages to choke out between two coughing fits.
After a long minute, Till finally catches his breath, and Ivan is still laughing his ass off. Asshole.
"I hope you die smothered by a toad's kiss and choke on its spit." The threat comes out stupid and lands flat. Till regrets it as soon as he says it.
"Actually, I'd rather die smothered by your kiss, Till," Ivan smirks, touching his index finger to his lips.
"You–"
"Okay, how about we stop there? I swear, you two must have spent all your damn time bickering in your past lives," Sua complains.
Her words catch Till in surprise, even though he knows that was supposed to be a joke. Till and Ivan had met in high school, but he sometimes had the impression he had known him for a much longer time than he actually had. Ivan was mostly annoying, constantly pestering and taunting him in ways others couldn't see, but he had also become a constant, comforting presence that Till had to accept despite himself. Before he even knew it, Ivan had become his closest friend, even if he hated to admit it. It felt like Ivan had just always been there, by his side, watching him.
Speaking of, Till looks up and meets Ivan's gaze, intensely fixated on him, undecipherable. He feels his cheeks warm up, unable to maintain the contact.
Surprisingly, Sua and Mizi seem to be completely oblivious to what unfolded right in front of them, already back onto their previous conversation. Instead of binge-watching horror movies on Friday, Mizi suggests a board game night, to which everybody hastily agrees.
"Perfect! That's a date, then!"
一
Till enjoys Friday nights. Their group hangs out from time to time, and Till just goes along with it. However, Fridays are usually reserved for Ivan and him. Till would come over to his flat, or Ivan would come to his; but it's mostly Till staying at Ivan's because the raven has a balcony from where the two friends can contemplate the stars. Once, Ivan mentioned it was his favorite activity ever. Watching the constellations with Till, specifically. Till said it was stupid, and told himself they were drunk anyway, so he blamed it on the one beer they had. But he never expressed to Ivan that, really, it was the same for him. After all, he is all too aware of the ache in his chest every time he looks at his best friend, cursing both the distance and the proximity between them. He knows what that means. He is dumb, but not completely clueless, for fuck’s sake.
But for now, Till’s feelings are not to be revealed. Mind you, Ivan would probably make fun of him.
He tries to shake the thought and makes his way to Mizi’s flat, waiting at the doorstep as he knocks.
“Welcome, Till! Come in!”
Everybody else has already arrived, which is no surprise, because Till is always running late. He takes a seat on the couch next to Ivan, and soon, the party —like Mizi likes to call it— begins.
一
It's all fun and games until five minutes in, when Till accuses Ivan of cheating. Of course, the latter denies it, in a way that is everything but convincing. Till keeps losing, and the rest can see the rage physically materializing and building up inside him. Till is about to crash out and might as well burn the house down. To be fair, it doesn’t help that Mizi, before getting started, mentioned a random guy asking Ivan out on campus. Ivan quickly dismissed the inquiry, but the harm was already done, and Till is now spiraling: why hasn’t he told him? Till knows Ivan is a secretive person, but still, isn’t he supposed to know about that stuff?
To calm things down, Mizi and Sua suggest they pick out another game. Thankfully, this works, and the rest of the evening unfolds without incident —well, more or less. Till is as grumpy as ever, but blames it on the alcohol. After all, he gets tipsy as soon as he drinks a glass of cider, while Ivan maintains his perfect composure no matter what. Infuriating, really.
It’s getting late, and they call it a day. Sua wordlessly waves them goodbye before retreating to Mizi's room: she will spend the night at her girlfriend’s, but really, this is nothing out of the ordinary, since they’ve been practically living together since they started dating.
As for Till, he will stay with Ivan, because he lives the furthest from Mizi’s, but also because the two men don’t want to change their routine —though they would never admit this out loud.
Once they’re at Ivan’s flat, the raven lays blankets and pillows so they can both be comfortable. Till flops down on the floor and lies flat on his back, a hand resting on his stomach, the other on the blanket, next to Ivan’s. Serene silence envelops them, and Ivan turns his head to face Till, as the other looks up to the sky. His brows are slightly furrowed, his mouth a bit tense.
“Hey, Ivan.”
Ivan hums noncommittally, not detaching his gaze from the grey-haired man. He knows the latter is aware of being stared at, but doesn't make any comments, probably used to it.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is quiet, vulnerable. “About this guy asking you out.”
“I did not think it really mattered. I forgot about it, to be honest,” Ivan admits.
“Huh, is that so?” A short silence follows before Till adds, “What was your answer?”
“Why? Are you jealous?” Ivan teases.
“Am not,” he mumbles, and Ivan can hear the pout in his voice.
He does not really believe himself that Till could ever be jealous, at least for the reason he would like him to be. He likes to think Till and he are closer than the average and that he has grown used to Ivan’s presence, despite his insufferable behavior. He met Till, along with Mizi and Sua, five years ago, and since then, it has mostly only been the four of them. Perhaps Till was afraid that their dynamic would change. Ivan enjoyed making fun of Till for having no other friends, but Ivan was actually no better in that regard. He’d never tried to connect with his classmates until he met them; although from an outside point of view, Ivan was a well-loved, popular student whose charming smile never failed to make both boys’ and girls’ hearts flutter.
“I said no,” Ivan finally says, and Till briefly glances at him before focusing on the starry sky again. His jaw muscles imperceptibly relax, and Ivan tries to ignore this small detail. This doesn’t mean anything.
“You used to go out with girls just ‘cause you were bored. I know you’re not into them, but now, you could have anyone you want.” The implied question hangs and lingers in the air between them.
Ivan’s heartbeat picks up, clenches his hand that lies next to Till’s, only a few centimeters apart. Suddenly, the need to close the distance between them is suffocating. He knows he’s the only one to harbor such wants, and he’s usually great at repressing them. But Till’s words ignite hope in him, one that he must put out himself; he knows it all too well.
But tonight, he doesn’t wish to do so. Only for tonight, he wants to act according to his selfish desires. All he can think about is Till, his tousled hair, neat jawline and collarbone, the soft lips that would sometimes curve up in amusement, the way his eyes would light up when they landed on something intriguing, or the way he would give it his all when focused on composing music or drawing. Then, the memory of the summer they witnessed shooting stars two years ago intrudes on his mind. That day, Till’s eyes were akin to the meteor shower, bright and widened in awe.
Ever so slowly, his hand moves to his right. Dark is engulfing them, and Ivan cannot see the other’s features so clearly; somehow it gives Ivan the right amount of courage to graze his finger against Till’s.
“I don’t want anyone.” Else, he leaves out, and the unspoken word weighs heavily on his tongue.
He expects Till to recoil, freak out, remove his hand, anything. But he doesn’t. For a moment, time stands still. Till does not move, and Ivan even wonders if he stopped breathing. He’s about to retract and find an excuse so he can go to bed and hide the shame consuming him, but then Till wraps his finger around his.
It’s a small contact, yet Ivan’s breath catches nonetheless. It takes him exactly two minutes and thirty-eight seconds to finally turn his head, only to find Till… asleep. His eyes are closed, chest falling and rising at a slow and steady rhythm, and Ivan smiles at the sight. He gets up and carries Till to the bed, careful not to wake him up, before changing into his pajamas and lying down as well.
Ivan’s bed is big enough for the both of them, at least enough for Till to spread his limbs without overlapping with Ivan’s space –though Till would often end up snuggling against him in his sleep.
Ivan lifts his hand, lets it hover over Till’s face. Hesitates for a second before retreating.
He is aware his feelings are filthy, far too twisted to ever be reciprocated. To call it “love” would be dumbing down something so complex he has never even managed to understand himself. Ivan does not love. He wants to possess Till, to live inside him, settle in his heart, carve out a space meant for him, invade his mind and body. But Till is perfect, far too perfect for him, and Ivan knows he may break under his touch if he is too ravenous. So he will take, he will welcome what Till chooses to give him, he will tame the monster inside of him. He will do it if that means Till won’t leave his side.
In another life… would I have been cleansed of these impure feelings?
He closes his eyes, willing unconsciousness to claim him. Tomorrow will come, surely, and he will go back to his usual self.
一
The cheering and applause of the crowd sitting in the stands are deafening, yet drowned out by the sound of Ivan’s own heart thumping in his ears. He looks straight ahead of him: the people watching him with frightening intensity are not humans, but strange creatures accompanied by children. Ivan barely pays attention to the uncanny situation, focusing it instead on his right. There, he can see Till, gaze downcast and shoulders slumped. The light has long since disappeared from his eyes. Still, he sings when the music starts, just the way they had been rehearsing a week prior to this.
Ivan waits for his turn, voice steady and determined. He knows what to do, knows what awaits him. He is not scared, he repeats himself.
Till could easily defeat him if he wanted to. His rebellious nature is one contested and disputed among the public, but it is also what allowed him to rank second, while Ivan is currently third.
But seeing his current state…
Just in case, I will ensure your victory.
The duet closing the song will be their last dance, and his last chance to pour out feelings he had until now carefully concealed. Ivan wants this; he wants to sing one last time with Till, he wants the man to look at him and only him. It will be his gift of consolation before he ultimately leaves the stage.
But Till stops. Ivan turns his head to him while the other resolutely keeps his head down. Anger and despair swell in his veins and flow out of him, wild and untamable as rain falls harder on their figures. He can distantly hear the clap of thunder as he throws the mic onto the stage and strides in the direction of Till.
Look at me, Till. Look at me.
He thinks of all the times he watched Till in the shadows. All the times he loomed over his shoulders, peeking at his sketches, and Till never glanced back at him, not even once. He thinks of all the times he saw him draw Mizi, and never him. He thinks of the time they were about to flee, to escape this hell of a place, holding each other’s hands, and yet Till let go of him and ran back there.
That time, Ivan realized he would never be chosen. Would never come first or even second in anyone’s mind.
He could live with that, he had long since accepted it.
But this time, just this time…
Look at me, please, he begs him internally, knowing he would never be heard.
He stops in front of him, and Till turns to him, wide-eyed, as Ivan grabs his face.
Finally.
Ivan kisses him.