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"Are you sure we need all this?" Till questions, his arms full with tangled decorations.
It was Ivan's stupid idea to decorate their apartment before Christmas, and now Till's been bossed around by him for over two hours.
"Of course we do," Ivan says, a dumb grin creeping onto his face. "The more, the merrier, right? Oh, you can leave all that over there, by the way." He extends his arm, pointing next to their huge, sparkling Christmas tree. With all the lights, bows, and ornaments adorning it, it was hard to miss.
"Yeah, thanks," Till mutters under his breath. He tosses the decorations, an exhale leaving his body as the extra weight in his hands disappear. He's already tired of all this; he needs something to relax.
He glides over to the kitchen, excitement boiling up within him as he reaches into the cupboard. Not even a moment goes by before he hears a familiar, grating voice.
"What're you doing? I never said we were finished."
"Screw off," Till shoots back, turning around with a glass in his palm. "You've been making me put up all these tacky things for the past two hours. I need something to unwind."
"Is this new?" Ivan ponders, holding the alcohol bottle up close to examine the label. "I've never seen you drink this before... like, ever."
With one swift movement, he claims the bottle from Ivan's grasp and pours a fair amount into his glass cup. He doesn't have the patience to put up with Ivan's bullshit.
"Eager today, are we?" Ivan coos, his eyes watching intriguingly as Till brings it to his lips, drinking carefully.
Till wipes the stain from his lips, shooting the black haired man a glare. "I just bought it to try it," he says. "It's not bad. I'm sure you could try some."
The entire time they've been roommates, all Ivan has done is annoy, annoy, annoy. Till's gotten to the point where he sometimes doubts if he can even last throughout college with Ivan as his roommate, but he's never admitted that out loud, as he's sure Ivan will take it to heart. He's not sure why he hasn't moved out yet. Maybe he really has gotten used to his banter.
Ivan's smile seemingly gets bigger. He takes the entire bottle, sipping lightly before he begins to take more bold, courageous gulps.
"Wh- What are you doing, man?" Till blurts, shock painting his face. "Drinking from the bottle, are you crazy? That's way too much alcohol, you're a lightweight!"
Sip after sip, Ivan downs that shit like it's candy. It isn't until Till rips it from his hand that he finally comes to a halt.
"You've drank half the bottle. Seriously, what were you thinking? We can't finish putting up all these decorations if you're wasted."
He examines Ivan's face. Flushed cheeks, sluggish eyes. He's already becoming drunk. He stands idle for a few minutes, debating on if he should leave a drunk Ivan to fend for himself in the kitchen or be a kind roommate and friend and help him out.
"Hey, look what you made me do," Ivan mutters, resting his arms on the table. "I always listen to what you say... that's a bad idea, isn't it?"
"I never said to drink this much, you crazy bastard," Till huffs as Ivan plops down into a kitchen chair. "You should sleep, just leave everything to me."
"Hey," Ivan begins, giggling as he buries his face into his arms. "Remember that time you forgot to do the presentation and the professor chewed you out? That was funny. You were the only one that didn't do it."
The grey haired boy's face reddens as he grits his teeth. "Stop bringing that up, it happened ages go. You're really gone, you need to rest."
"Or the time you almost pissed yourself in class--"
"Stop talking," Till grumbles, walking over to help the drunken man out of the seat. He wraps his arm around Ivan's waist, feeling his rising body temperature against his skin. Ivan's head goes limp against his shoulder, and for some reason, Till can hear his own heartbeat getting louder.
"Hey," Ivan whispers directly into Till's ear. "Have you ever kissed anyone before?"
Till's face turns a deep red, almost bewildered by the question. "W- What?" he stutters, frozen in place. "What's it to you? I mean, of course I've kissed someone before, but why?"
He bites his bottom lip to stop himself from worsening the situation by continuing to talk. He's never kissed anyone in his life, and he hopes Ivan will fall for his white lie and leave it alone.
Another giggle escapes Ivan's lips as his half lidded eyes flicker up to the ceiling. "Look up," he says.
Swallowing a lump in his throat, Till looks up and meets a singular mistletoe hanging up right above them. He almost can't believe it.
"A mistletoe?" Till hesitates. "Really? You actually put that up there, of all places?"
"I've kissed a few people before," Ivan admits, his hot breath against Till's neck. "But I'm not sure if you have. You're timid, you're shy. No way you'd initiate a kiss."
"I- I have kissed someone before," Till fibs, attempting to avoid Ivan's piercing gaze. "I'm not some sort of virgin who doesn't know a thing. Stop prying."
"You think I'm prying?" Ivan asks. "It was a simple statement. Am I wrong?"
Till's grip on Ivan's waist tightens, and he feels like he has no option but to look down at the floor because he knows Ivan has a shit eating grin; that same shit eating grin he loathes to witness.
"I don't know why you're so eager to know," Till mumbles, his heart pounding out of his chest. This is a dangerous situation he's currently in, and Ivan is having the time of his life.
"Because I hate the possibility that you've kissed someone else before, even though I know you're lying to me."
Till's eyes widen ever so slightly, and he has to wonder if he even heard that correctly, or if his ears were playing tricks on him.
"Hey, don't joke like that," he stammers, his ears and neck blushing a blood red color. This is bad. This is really, really bad. He can't pick up on if Ivan is serious or not, and a part of him doesn't want to find out.
"I'm being serious, y'know," Ivan says. "Hey, look at me. I'm dead serious."
Till swallows. Hard. He can't bring himself to be defiant against a drunk and vulnerable Ivan. He whips his head towards the black haired man, hesitant to directly look him in the eyes.
"Where is any of this coming from?"
"I like you, Till."
"... What?"
Badum. Badum. Badum.
That's all Till is able to hear. His heartbeat ringing in his ears, feeling lightheaded from all the blood rushing to his face. Is this what happens when Ivan gets shitfaced drunk? He barely knows what to respond with. Sure, he's thought about Ivan in a romantic light, but not that often. This is all too much for poor Till, and all too quick. He glances back down at the floor, unsure of what to do or say.
"Ivan, I think you're really wasted," he splutters, trying to rack up any sort of excuses. "I'm tired as well, and I think some shuteye will do you good in this state. Too much alcohol in the system will get people to say all sorts of crazy things, so--"
"Kiss me," Ivan interrupts, his eyes glazed over and cheeks flushed by the alcohol, "Think of it as practice, since you have no experience."
Till blinks slowly, looking up to meet the gaze of Ivan. Did he hear that right?
"I... What?"
"Your heartbeat's really loud, anyone is able to hear it, y'know?" Ivan teases, his face dangerously close to Till's. "C'mon. If you won't accept my feelings, at least let us kiss so I can help you prepare for it in the near future."
"Slow down, please," Till begs. Everything's processing slowly in his mind, and all he can think about right now is how close Ivan is to him and how flustered he's become. Why does he get so nervous around him? Is it the confession that's turning him this way?
"How long have you liked me?'
"Since we first met."
"Why'd you kiss other people then?"
"Because I was scared to tell you, and each time I kissed them, I'd imagine it was you instead."
Ivan's too bold and upfront. Till's heart can't take it. Maybe he's getting a little tipsy as well, because now, he finds himself actually considering if he should just kiss Ivan. No harm in trying, right?
Just practice. That's it. Fuck it.
"Turn me down so I won't get my hopes up if you won't kiss m--"
Grabbing Ivan's jaw, Till pulls him into a kiss before he can finish his sentence. Ivan's lips are soft and welcoming as the kiss deepens. Till begins to wonder just how many people got to have this experience. A sudden uneasy feeling stirs within him at that thought.
The kiss is gentle, yet rough, and Till can feel the hunger from Ivan as he pushes his tongue against the grey haired boy's teeth, asking for entrance. Their tongues meet, exploring each other's mouths as saliva is exchanged, and-- oh, yeah, this must be why people like to kiss. He understands now. Till can taste the alcohol lingering in Ivan's mouth, or maybe that's his own that he's having a taste of. He prays he's kissing right and isn't making it awkward, trying to follow the movements of Ivan.
Ivan pulls back, the boys both panting and struggling to help their lungs receive more oxygen.
"You're a bit bad at kissing," Ivan says, tugging on the collar of Till's shirt. "I knew you were lying to me about having your first kiss. Let me guide you."
Before he can even respond, Ivan is pulling Till back in for round two. Ivan is more aggressive, their lips gliding against one another's and seamlessly fitting together like puzzle pieces. Till can hardly believe this is happening. This is how Ivan tastes like, this is how his lips feel. As Till kisses back, his hand sneaking to cup the back of Ivan's neck, the black haired boy lets out a shaky yet impossible to miss noise, signaling that he's enjoying it.
Till pushes Ivan against the kitchen counter, his body pressing against him as he cups his face. This deep, sudden possessiveness washes over him. He understands now why people kiss. Kissing with Ivan gives him a feeling he's never felt before, and now he's afraid he'll get addicted to it. Is this really just practice?
Ivan rips away from him, gasping loudly.
"Looks like you've got the hang of it," he concludes, his voice husky as his chest rises up and down rapidly. "Thought you were about to eat me up there for a moment. Whoever you kiss is in for a ride."
"Oh, sorry, I think I got carried away for a minute," Till cautioned. "I wasn't that bad, though, right?"
"You were decent," Ivan admits. "I wish I could kiss you more, but you probably wouldn't want that."
"... I know you're still wasted, but were you always this bold?"
"I thought I made my feelings towards you obvious. Guess not."
"I don't even know if I'm able to kiss anyone else now," Till murmurs, his fingers pulling his lip as if he were reminiscing about the kiss.
"Was I that good?" Ivan chuckles. "Sorry, but, you were ass at it. You'll need more lessons from me."
"You're so full of shit," Till says, leaning in to him. "I know you liked it."
"Of course I did. I like you."
Till freezes up as he struggles to find the words. He's weak towards Ivan's confessions, that much is clear.
He'll have to stock up on plenty of alcohol to see this side of him more, and that was a risk he's willing to take. He isn't himself around Ivan, and he knows what that means. The stupid mistletoe above them is so obvious, too. This must've been Ivan's plan from the start, and he took the bait like a mouse to a cheese trap.
With all these things present, Till should be annoyed, but he isn't. He has only one thing on his mind.
"I think I like you too, Ivan."