Work Text:
Ivan wakes up in a daze to the feeling of fabric being pulled tight, miniscule shakes dragging him away from slumber.
He blinks uselessly, struggling to focus on anything as the room is bathed in darkness and sleep clings to his lashes, but then he tilts his head down and the smell of Till’s shampoo greets him immediately.
Lulling him towards the problem at hand. “Till?”
The fabric gives again and he realizes Till is clutching his shirt for dear life, or he was, because the moment the sleepy call of his name leaves Ivan’s lips those same hands crawl up to cradle his cheeks.
So very warm, he can't help but sigh.
Ivan keeps still, content just like that, until Till calls out his name and it's wrong; scratchy and tremulant, lacking structure. The lingering fuzziness evaporates at once, more so when he scoots over to turn on a light and Till moves with him; latched onto him.
A click and muted light bathes the room in a golden hue, and before he can take a look at Till the latter is already there—holding onto the sides of his face as he stares and stares, eyes wet.
“Did you have a bad dream?” Ivan asks, relieved if only a little. Brushing away the moisture caught on his lashes, the stray droplets which manage to fall. “It's over now. Cheer up.”
Till’s bottom lip wobbles and a fresh wave of tears surges up, but he goes willingly when Ivan opens his arms—sinking into the embrace with purpose. Cheek brushing against the hollow of Ivan's throat, arms tight around him; hands spread wide on his back.
“You can be such a crybaby,” Ivan laughs, nose buried in soft locks. “And yet you don't like it when I call you cute.”
Till curls up tighter, ear pressed against bare skin. Thump thump thump. “It's all your fault.” Whisper quiet.
“Huh?”
Till scoots back on his lap, their noses brushing for the blink of an eye before he's pressing their lips together. Coaxing Ivan’s open beneath his own, a request which is obliged immediately.
The motion is demanding and yet the kiss itself honey sweet, Ivan angles his face just enough to press as close as possible. Letting Till take what he needs, while drowning himself.
When they pull back Till doesn't go very far, leaning their foreheads together. Eyes trained on Ivan’s reddened lips. He steals another peck, before finding safety into the embrace once more.
“What did you dream about?”
“It doesn't matter,” ear pressed to Ivan's chest. Words heavy with sleep. “It's not real.”
A hum. “Do you want me to keep the light on?”
“No, it's fine. Just… let's stay like this for a little longer.”
Ivan kisses the top of his head, shimming against the mattress until they're lying down more comfortably. Till half on top of him, shoulders rising and falling quietly. Sleep bites at the corners of his eyes, but Ivan keeps watch—humming a song he doesn't recall the name of, paying attention to the rhythm of his lover's breathing.
Just as he thinks Till might have fallen asleep, a murmur reaches his ears. “Ivan?”
“Hm?”
“... I love you.”
Ivan's eyes widen, lethargy long forgotten, and even if Till can't see it, well, he most definitely won't miss the new tune for his ears and his ears only. Till, who exhales deeply through his nose before falling still. Asleep in matters of seconds.
Ivan closes his eyes, contentment washing over him in waves—pressing one last kiss against his lover's hair before settling in to sleep too.
Humming until the notes slip through his fingers and there's only silence.