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After hours of being forced to sing for his captors in those rooms reserved for karaoke, Ivan practically had to drag himself out of them. He was beyond exhausted—and even that was an understatement. He was aware that, if he were to compare himself to other humans, he’d probably be one of the least affected by those events.
Ivan had heard, and even witnessed, how aliens drugged humans and took advantage of them for the mere reason of resisting against their orders. They would then be discarded as if they were trash bags, and others would find them, unconscious or spaced out.
He had never suffered that kind of treatment, mostly because he didn’t see any appeal in rebelling. It’s not that he didn’t want to or hadn’t thought about it; he surely had, but he just didn’t see a point in it. Being obedient had given him a lot of privileges and (alleged) freedom. Ivan knew he could somehow transfer part of said freedom to his friends, so he didn’t want to change the aliens’ opinion of him.
Besides, he could withstand the physical and mental exhaustion. Standing up against his captors would only tire him more, so he preferred to keep his obedient and quiet persona when he was around the aliens. They liked him that way, and he could endure that. It’s not like pleasing them would strip him of his personality; he was mostly an empty shell around them anyway.
That’s why Ivan admired people like Till with his whole self. No matter how hard the aliens tried to subdue him, he just wouldn’t succumb. Even if he was about to faint, he would still find strength within himself to show them that they would never own him. He may have suffered the misfortune of being taken by them, but he was still his own person, not theirs.
Ever since Ivan had seen Till’s stubbornness for the first time, constantly standing up against that beast, no matter how many times he fell, he had been in awe. Till’s persistence had captivated him to the point that he hadn’t been able to move on from him. It was breathtaking.
Even when Till let go of his hand and returned when they were about to escape, he had found that admirable. Ivan couldn’t keep his eyes from shining as Till still showed his undying resolve, going back to Anakt because he couldn’t abandon his other friends there. Ivan knew he could have escaped and lived a less tragic life, but he chose to follow his true freedom and returned as well.
He didn’t regret it at all, even if it meant he would have to be subjected to the aliens. Even if it meant he would die soon, it would have been worth the sacrifice.
Ivan roamed through the empty rooms with only one thing in mind. Albeit the lights had been completely turned off in most of the rooms, some of them still had a faint glare, which he followed mindlessly. The atmosphere was engulfed in silence, one that was almost eerie. It was weird, and he felt uneasy, but he still searched, his hope not fading.
After minutes of unsuccessfully examining the place, he got to the penultimate room and let out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. He stood in the doorway for a few seconds, quietly inspecting the view before him. He didn’t even dare to breathe as his eyes scrutinized the boy on the floor: Till.
Even beneath the dim lights, Ivan could see that he had passed out and was sweating profusely. He was unconscious but very much discerned, as his face contorted uncomfortably. His hair was a mess, and his clothes had clearly been ruined—it was clear someone had tried to rip them off.
Ivan bit his lip so hard that it almost started bleeding. He walked up to Till, removing the collar that restrained him. He supported his hand on the wall and bent over to look at him more closely. Seeing him so vulnerable made his chest physically ache in a way that he couldn’t quite put into words. Hadn’t Till been able to resist? Had they hurt him so much that he had fainted? Had they drugged him?
Ivan’s mind was overflowing with questions that he desperately needed an answer for. He felt distraught, and hurt, and pitiful, and anxious, and… He didn’t know what to do. He was feeling a lot, and what he felt, he felt strongly. Unable to convey the mix of emotions in his chest, he carefully and gently grabbed Till’s face, nuzzling his nose against his cheek in a soft motion. Till’s skin irradiated heat, which caused Ivan’s eyes to itch, but he kept himself together. Was Till ill? He would take care of him.
He repeated the action for a couple of minutes, rubbing their noses and cheeks together until he wasn’t sure which was his skin and which was the other's. To be honest, he would have been content if they just fussed and melted together, forever untangled. But that was sadly impossible, so he kept going, cherishing the moment and trying to convey with actions the most pure love and affection he felt.
Time was already starting to feel hazy by the time Ivan felt Till squirming against his touch, his limbs still numb. Ivan stopped his movements, turning his face away from Till’s, but still holding it gently, cupping it. He stayed still, holding his breath once again.
Till wrinkled his nose, slowly trying to open his eyes, but they were closed tightly. When he tried to move his fingers, he spasmed, which made Ivan hurriedly let go of his face and hold him by the shoulders instead.
The younger man reacted to the touch, his chest rising slightly. He opened his mouth, seemingly trying to speak up, but words wouldn’t come out. At that point, Ivan had already deduced that he had been drugged, and the effects were still fading. He gently squeezed Till’s shoulders in a desperate attempt to comfort him—he couldn’t panic, not now.
“It’s fine, Till. I’m Ivan. You’re fine,” he spoke, as softly as he managed.
Till seemed to relax upon hearing his voice. He tried to open his eyes once again, this time succeeding. His eyelids felt heavy and his vision was blurry, but at least he could see something. He painfully blinked a couple of times, trying to focus his vision. Slowly, Ivan's figure in front of him began to make sense, and he could make out his face in the dim light.
“Ivan…?” he asked, almost whispering. His lips trembled.
Ivan nodded, massaging Till’s shoulders with his thumbs. “Yes. I’m right here.”
“What happened?” The words came out slowly, his voice tired.
“I don’t know, I found you here just now,” Ivan said and then paused, thinking for a bit. “They made you sing in one of those events. I sang too, but in a different room. I was worried for you, so I came to get you.”
Till let the words sink in for a few seconds, and then nodded and weakly smiled, letting his eyes close. “Thank you,” he muttered, trying to breathe deeply. His chest rose and fell a couple of times. “I’m just gonna… rest a bit.”
Ivan nodded, although Till couldn’t see him. “I’ll wait for you.”
Under different circumstances, Till would have argued and told Ivan that he was fine and didn’t need his help, but this time he didn’t. He didn’t want to waste his strength on nonsense, plus he could actually use Ivan’s help for once. His company felt oddly comforting, albeit distant, and he was grateful that it was Ivan who had found him in that state. So, he kept his mouth shut.
Ivan waited alongside him, biting his lip as he observed his friend slowly regaining his senses. He watched as his hands and feet started looking less limp, his face regained color and he started breathing normally and not shakily. He continued caressing his shoulders all along as a way to show Till that he hadn’t gone anywhere.
After what seemed like hours, Till opened his eyes again, this time not-so-difficultly. Still trembling slightly, he raised his right hand and placed it on Ivan’s forearm, startling the other man. He squeezed it lightly, trying to get his friend to help him sit up properly. When Ivan finally understood what the other meant, he placed his hands under Till’s armpits and pulled him up, helping him to position himself comfortably. Then, he let his hands fall to his sides.
“Thank you,” Till murmured sincerely.
Ivan smiled, shaking his head. “It’s nothing.” It was true. He would’ve done anything Till needed or asked for.
“My mind’s starting to clear up,” he ran a hand through his hair, grimacing as he noticed the sweat. “I think.”
“Do you remember what happened?”
Till bit the inside of his cheek, averting his gaze and looking at the ceiling. He didn’t want to see the room in detail, because he didn’t want to remember the recent trauma, or what they had done to him. “Mostly. But I don’t wanna talk about it—not here.”
Ivan searched for his eyes, and Till looked at him just in time. He was frowning slightly (not at him), and Ivan silently understood what the other meant. No more words were needed, just a nod and a silent reassurance that everything was okay. Ivan had found him, so Till was okay.
Carefully, not wanting to rush things, Ivan helped Till to stand up, and he placed the other man's hand on his shoulder. Slowly, step by step, he got them out of that room.
Till collapsed on his bed from exhaustion just a couple of seconds after Ivan closed the door behind them. His whole body ached; he was sure that he wouldn’t have been able to return to his room if it hadn't been for Ivan helping him. He was very grateful, really.
Tiredly, he turned to face Ivan, who stood still against the door. Till shook his right hand, patting the bed with the other one. A bit hesitant and almost sheepishly, which Till found very weird, he crossed the room and sat beside him, keeping a considerate distance between them.
Till noticed. “I don’t bite, you know,” he elbowed him weakly.
Ivan laughed. “I know, I know. Sorry.”
“Then don’t sit so far away, I don’t have the plague. And don’t apologize. It’s weird.”
The black-haired man hummed but didn’t make any move to sit closer. Instead, he opted to look at the wall in front of him, because surely the switch and the white tiles were so much more interesting than the guy beside him.
Till sighed, annoyed. “What’s up? And don’t start with any of that ‘I’m fine’ bullshit, because I’m not falling for it,” he glanced to his left, only to see that Ivan was already staring at him. “Dude.”
Ivan laughed again, this time more genuinely, more teasingly. So much more like Ivan. Till found himself smiling too, still a bit annoyed, but deep down light-hearted. He honestly felt miserable—he hadn’t been able to feel carefree for a while, not after Mizi went missing, so it was nice to feel at ease for once.
“Sorry,” Ivan finally spoke. “I know you will get mad at me for this, but you looked so vulnerable there that I didn’t want to hurt you, that’s why I’m keeping my distance.”
Till’s eye twitched after the words settled in. “Are you dumb?”
“See! I told you you’d get mad!” he replied almost instantly.
“Why would…?” he stopped for a bit, exhaling and letting out a sharp breath. “You’re a stupid idiot and deserve to be kicked out of my room right now.”
Sensing Ivan was going to complain and interrupt him, Till covered his mouth with the palm of his hand, giving him a warning glare that said, “If you dare to lick my hand or do something gross, I will murder you right here, you fucking freak.” Ivan happily complied, silently enjoying the warmth of Till’s skin.
“As I was saying, why would you hurt me? As if you weren’t the one that found me and took me out of there. It’s quite the opposite, no? So stop talking nonsense,” he said, as a matter of fact. Ivan tried to mumble something against Till’s palm, but he effectively made him shut up. “I said stop! Just sit closer and shut up, okay? Just do like you always do. I’m not that fragile, y’know?”
Ivan looked at him for a while, visibly taken aback. His eyes were wide open, so much that Till was able to see the bright red in his pupils. The younger man took his hand away from the other’s mouth, shaking his head exasperated. At that point, it was just whatever. Ivan confused the hell out of him, his actions were always misleading and contradictory, to the point that he seemed a whole different person with different intentions in a time span of five minutes. He’d just let him do as he pleased, as always.
After what seemed like hours, Ivan finally stopped staring and got closer to Till, practically invading his personal space. See? That’s what Till was puzzled about. First, Ivan had sat far away from him, as if he had some sort of contagious and incurable disease. But now, he acted as if he didn't know the notion of personal space and wanted to steal the air that he was breathing. Why couldn’t he just make up his mind?
“Are you happy now?” Ivan asked, teasingly.
Till punched him slightly, not meaning any harm. “No.”
Ivan hummed but opted for staying silent, enjoying the other’s presence. Hearing his calm breathing felt oddly comforting. Would Till find him weird if he admitted it out of the blue? He wished to be able to stay by his side like this forever, if only they had enough time… But none of them wanted to remember that.
“They forced me to sing, but I refused,” Till suddenly spoke. His friend turned to face him, looking at him attentively, almost encouragingly. “That fuckass alien, he wanted me to sing My Clematis. He was mocking Mizi and Sua! And then he also mocked Mizi’s disappearance, so I had to do something about it,” he said, clenching his fists so hard that the knuckles started to turn white. Ivan wanted to hold his hand so that he would stop. “I hit him, and then he drugged me and… you know…”
Till gestured with his hands, getting nowhere. Tears of frustration began to threaten to come out—he didn’t want to cry, but he also didn’t want to say what they had done to him out loud. It felt disgusting, and he felt disgusted by it as well. The mere thought of it made him want to throw up.
He was unable to continue talking, so Ivan had to figure out what had happened himself. It wasn’t tough; he had already thought about it when he saw the state in which Till’s clothes were—it made him furious. He could generally withstand most of the aliens’ despicable treatments towards humans, but this was just too much. Moreover, they had drugged Till so that he wasn’t able to resist. They had dehumanized him, deprived him of his will and strength, and Ivan surely couldn’t withstand that.
At that moment, he had so much anger within himself that he wasn’t able to put into words everything that he wanted to say. He couldn’t properly word his pity, hurt, or support, so he chose to open his arms and welcome Till into a close, warm hug. Because he wanted him to know that he could always rely on him, and he wanted the other to find peace and comfort in his embrace. Was it too selfish to ask for that? How would Till feel if he found out about his feelings? Would he still hold him close?
Ivan caressed the other’s back with his bare hands, trying to show through his actions what he couldn’t with his voice. Till didn’t cry, but he gripped the fabric of Ivan’s jacket strongly, holding onto it. Ivan let him.
“I feel dirty,” Till mumbled against his friend’s shoulder.
Ivan replied immediately, without thinking. “Let’s clean you up.” He broke the hug, moving away far enough so that Till could see the determination in his eyes. “Whether you feel dirty literally or metaphorically, let’s clean you up.”
The younger man stared, and Ivan stared back. Then, what he had said hit him, and he blushed slightly.
“I didn’t mean it in a weird way! I… I’ll shower too, so that it’s less uncomfortable, and…”
Till smacked him, effectively shutting him up. “I didn’t think anything weird, dumbass. I was just thinking that a bath would be nice,” he smiled, untangling his arms from Ivan’s back and getting up. “Come on, I’ll prepare it.”
Ivan was quick to get up as well, impatiently rushing to the small bathroom connected to Till’s room. “I’ll do it!”
The other man rolled his eyes affectionately.
In record time, Ivan had filled the bathtub, even throwing in some bath bombs that Till didn’t honestly know where they had come from. He chose to shrug it off, quickly stripping off all of his clothes, leaving only the boxers in. To be fair, the feeling of the trousers and jacket’s fabric against his skin kind of triggered him, so he felt better that way. Being basically naked would also make him uncomfortable in any other situation—but it was Ivan, so it was fine. He would be fine.
He got in the tub, placing his knees against his chest and sinking his whole body up to his chin. Ivan mirrored his actions, sitting across from him. They stayed like that for a bit, enjoying the warm sensation of the water against their skin. They weren’t particularly staring at each other; their eyes just shifted from one place to another.
Ivan’s mind was basically a mess right then. Not only because he was sharing such an intimate moment with the person with whom he was in love, but also because his chest was overflowing with feelings, so much that he felt it was going to explode at any other moment.
Undoubtedly, Till trusted him. So much that he felt comfortable enough to bathe with him, right after being taken advantage of. He had shown Ivan his most vulnerable side a couple of minutes ago, when he confided in him the painful secret of what the aliens had done to him, and then he had agreed to let Ivan help him to relieve the pain.
He was honestly very happy and grateful, almost ecstatic, overflowing with all kinds of emotions. He would cherish this moment forever, no matter how little time he had left to live. Even dying right then would’ve been fine with him.
That confusing mix of emotions he felt for Till was the purest form of love—undying and unconditional; not even death could take those feelings away. He felt a lot, to the point that it was overwhelming and it sometimes hurt. But how could he get rid of it when Till granted him his confidence, allowing them to spend moments like that one together? He would miss it so much if he died.
“Why are you smiling?” Till asked with a teasing tone.
Ivan flushed, sinking his face deeper in the water, trying to pretend that the color of his cheeks was due to the temperature of the water. If Till looked at him like that again, his heart would burst.
“It’s nothing. Turn around, I’ll wash your hair.”
Till raised an eyebrow, a bit confused, but still complied. He grabbed the shampoo and handed it to Ivan before turning around, resting his back against the other man’s chest. Ivan held back a gasp, a bit taken aback by the sudden physical contact. Would Till be able to notice his rapid heartbeat?
Dismissing those thoughts, he poured a generous amount of shampoo on his hands, rubbing them a little before he started to massage the other’s hair, gently and slowly. He longed for Till to remember that moment as a comfortable one—so much that, even when Ivan was gone, he would be able to look back and think of it fondly.
He felt his friend relax into his touch and started to hum softly, still caressing his head. Till was quick to catch up, starting to harmonize with him, albeit lower. If someone else had been in the room right there, only Ivan would’ve been able to hear him. It was a moment meant for the two of them and no one else. Ivan felt overwhelmingly happy.
He rinsed the shampoo with warm water, letting his fingers roam the other man’s scalp, his actions filled with love. Having finished that step, he reached out to grab the conditioner, repeating his previous steps by massaging Till’s hair and rinsing it right after. He wanted to finish by planting a kiss on top of the other's head, but he suppressed the desire.
“That was nice,” Till said, his voice surprisingly soft. Ivan’s chest felt warm. He loved him.
“Do you want me to wash your back?” he asked, mindlessly tracing circles on Till’s shoulder blades.
He considered it for a bit before shaking his head no. “Nah. Later. Turn around, I’ll wash your hair now.” He turned around to look at Ivan while he spoke.
The black-haired man was too startled for a bit to speak. He blinked, confused. “Why?”
Till raised an eyebrow, equally confused. “What do you mean, ‘Why’? This has to be reciprocal, right? You give, but you also receive. Besides, it’ll feel weird if I just sat, being taken care of, while you do everything for me. So turn around!” he ordered, turning around himself so that he was facing Ivan.
He was then able to notice the way the other’s face was covered in a faint pink blush, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. No use trying to cover himself up if Till had already seen him.
“What? Are you embarrassed, or what?” he smiled slightly.
Ivan shook his head, remembering Till’s choice of words. ‘Being taken care of.’ He had noticed his intentions and wanted to reciprocate them. By that, he didn’t want Ivan to feel left out or rejected—he was aiming to show him that he mattered, and that he wanted his actions to be mutual. No matter what the hell Till meant by that, Ivan was truly happy. He’d take anything the other gave him, whether it was his love or not.
“I’m not used to that, that’s all,” he replied.
Till was stunned for a second, but he quickly switched his expression to a bright grin, one that could have blinded Ivan. And honestly? He wasn’t opposed to it. “There’s a first time for anything, as they say. Now turn around, for fuck’s sake!”
Ivan didn’t say anything else, he didn’t complain or protest, he just obeyed the other and turned around, copying his movements from moments ago and resting his back against Till’s chest. Their skins felt incredibly soft and warm against each other, as if they had been made to fit together. There weren’t such things as gods in their world, but Ivan still prayed to them that it was true.
He leaned against Till’s touch when he started massaging his scalp, dazzled by the feeling of the other’s skin against his. His own heartbeat rang in his ears, his heart threatening to burst out from his chest. The only thing that could ruin that moment was the reminder that their happiness wouldn’t last long—not in the universe they lived in. Ivan wished with his whole being that, in another life, he could meet Till under different circumstances, having enough time. In his next life, he wants to be himself and meet Till again.
He silently let Till rinse his hair, enjoying the sensation of warm water washing his scalp. He honestly felt so peaceful that he could fall asleep at any moment. The other man seemed to notice it, turning the water off.
“Y’know, this may seem weird and out of place, but I’m really grateful that you found me before, after… You know. I don’t know how to say this, but thank you for searching for me,” he said, pouring conditioner on Ivan’s hair.
Ivan was grateful that he wasn’t facing Till right then, because the way he smiled was clearly not meant for the other to see.
“It’s the least I could do. I know you don’t like those kinds of events, so… yeah.”
Till rinsed the conditioner, humming. “I know, but I still wanted to thank you. You’re the only one who would’ve taken me into account, so thanks again,” he stopped massaging Ivan’s scalp, squeezing his shoulder slightly. “I’m done, you can turn around again.”
Ivan did as he was ordered, only to meet Till's gaze, with an expression that was very much rare to see on him. He looked surprisingly calm, even though his bangs falling over his eyes made him look quite funny. Ivan loosely tucked some strands of hair behind Till’s ear.
“I don’t know why I’m thanking you so much all of a sudden, but I’ve been thinking a lot recently. About everything, about us,” he looked Ivan in the eyes, and the latter held his breath. “Everything changed a lot since Sua died, you know what I mean? Mizi basically lost her brightness, and I don’t blame her. Then she had her round against that fuckass—Luka, and she went missing. I’ve been quite miserable since then. It’s odd not having her around. I miss her. Everything feels surreal,” he looked down, staring at his reflection on the water.
Ivan listened to him and nodded. He also felt very conflicted about everything that had happened. He had witnessed Sua dying right before Mizi’s eyes; it was probably one of the most cruel things he had ever seen. He knew Sua would sacrifice herself for Mizi, and he had warned her about how her actions would have impacted the other girl, but she hadn’t listened. To be fair, they were doomed either way. No matter which one lost, the other’s death would permanently scar the other.
He had also witnessed Mizi’s round against Luka, and her violent behavior towards him, the way it had impacted her score, had given him a few ideas. He had thought about it as a parallel of Sua’s sacrifice, but he wasn’t that sure anymore. Were they similar at all, after all? That didn’t matter because, as time went by and he got closer to his round against Till, he only became more confident about his plan. It was in moments like the one they were sharing that he knew that dying for Till would be worth it.
“I get what you’re saying. It’s almost eerie, like a part of us is missing. I’ve been thinking about it for a while, too,” he replied, placing his hands on Till’s shoulders, trying to get him to turn around.
“Exactly! Oh, right, you wanted to wash my back,” he turned around absentmindedly, resting his arms on the edge of the bathtub. “I’ve also been thinking about us,” he repeated.
Ivan’s heart skipped a bit, but he tried to play it off as he started massaging Till’s back with body gel. “Oh, really?”
“Yeah. I don't wanna sing against you, y’know?” he sighed, leaning against Ivan's touch. “You're an asshole, and you confuse the shit out of me. I don't know your intentions because you're impossible to decipher. One moment you're bothering me and making me push you away, and the next we're where we are now. It's confusing as hell, and it pisses me off. But even then, you're still very important to me, you know that, right?”
Ivan stopped his movements; his hands were basically frozen at Till’s sides. His mind was also blank. What was he talking about, and where did it come from? All of a sudden, Till had started getting emotional and was being fast-forward with his words—and he wasn't good with words. Ivan knew it. Why was he making the effort then?
There was no use; they would be singing against each other in a few days, and one of them would inevitably die. They couldn't possibly be rescued like Mizi was, because the aliens would probably be prepared to fight against the rebels. So Till’s words were basically nonsense, they couldn't prevent the unavoidable from happening.
But then, why? What was all that about?
Till moved his right hand from the edge of the bathtub to rest it on top of Ivan's left one, which was still brushing against his side. His thumb stroked Ivan's skin a single time before asking, “Ivan, what exactly do you feel for me?”
His heart froze, he could swear it stopped beating. “Huh?”
Till didn't turn around, but he rested his head against Ivan's collarbones, his hair tickling the latter’s chin. “You confuse the shit out of me, I told you. I know I should’ve asked earlier, but I couldn't find the right moment. You were always doing weird stuff, and I felt even more lost. What do you feel for me?” he repeated.
Ivan paused for a bit. That was quite a difficult question, wasn't it? He had been running from it himself for quite a bit. The reason why he kept showing his affection towards Till with actions was because he didn't know how to put the overwhelming amount of emotions he felt into words. That's why he had hugged him and nuzzled his nose against his cheek before.
But then again, Till was seriously asking—he really wanted to know, even though they didn't have much time left. But better late than never, right? So, just because of that, Ivan found himself seriously thinking, too. He was rummaging through his thoughts, trying to answer Till's question as sincerely as possible.
First off, why did his actions confuse Till? He was aware that his behavior was something outright contradictory, which could explain the other man's lack of understanding of his true intentions. But wasn't it obvious that he was doing it for attention? That even if he knew it would push Till away for a bit, he still wanted to bother him, because it would mean that his eyes would be all on him? Was that weird?
But he surely didn't want Till to hate him, so he made sure to balance it out with moments such as the one they were sharing, or all the times he freed him from his restraint, or all the times he stayed by his side when the other was unconscious. He had always looked after him when he was vulnerable, was that not self-explanatory?
Ivan had even wanted to grant him total freedom when they tried to escape together. He still remembered that night perfectly, everything from Till’s genuine smile, to the feeling of him letting go of his hand, to his back turning away from him and returning. The only thing he wasn't sure of was Till’s eyes. Were the red on them a reflection of his own eyes, or was it due to the meteor shower? He wished he knew.
But as he returned to the present and felt Till’s warm skin against his, his wet hair resting against his shoulders, he realized it really didn't matter. If he took into account everything that had happened between them, his feelings would be much too complex to explain, more than what he already thought they were.
How could he explain what he thought and felt in a simple way? Concepts such as love and affection were hard for them to grasp, as a result of human society basically disappearing. But he had read a lot, enough to be able to identify the words that humans had once used to convey their feelings with what he felt for Till.
“I love you. I always have,” he finally answered, short and concise. “That's the briefest explanation I can give. If you want me to get into detail, then I…”
Till squeezed his hand, effectively shutting him up. Ivan blushed, wanting their hands to stay intertwined forever (or until death did them part).
“Shut up. That's enough,” he sighed, but it still sounded soft. “You're confusing. That’s not how you show someone that you love them, you know?”
Till paused for a bit, rethinking his words. Was it not, really? He was just taking into account the times when Ivan had made him angry: when they fought each other as kids, when Ivan called him a loser without friends, when he would touch his wounds or be weird overall, when he said things just to piss him off, when he stole his pencils…
But he thought deeper, going back in time, and he realized that he was missing out a couple pieces. Deciphering his relationship with Ivan was like trying to complete an intricate puzzle, with some of the pieces having lost their color and having to be repainted.
He remembered earlier that day, when Ivan had found him unconscious and stayed with him until he woke up. Had that happened before, too, but gone unnoticed by him? He also remembered all the times Ivan carefully leaned on him, silently watching him draw, and all the times he took off the collar that restrained him, trying to give him a bit of the freedom he longed for.
Then an image appeared in his head: Ivan's back, with his hand on Till's, running away from Anakt Garden. He remembered how much he was smiling, so much that his cheeks hurt—for once, he had been able to taste a bit of freedom, and he was very happy. But he had to return, because he couldn't leave Mizi and the others behind, so he let go of Ivan’s hand. He noticed he had followed him back. Had he given up on freedom because of him? Did he already love him back then?
Ivan may be confusing and act stupid just to get a reaction from Till, but that didn't mean he loved him any less, right? Because, as far as Till can remember, Ivan had always been the one by his side, whether it was to annoy him or to protect him. That’s all that he needed to know, right?
“I wish you'd told me sooner,” he said, raising his other hand to cup Ivan’s cheek. “But we can figure out what to do with the little time we have. If one of us is going to die, then I at least want us to cherish our last moments.
Ivan leaned into the touch, his cheek burning against Till’s palm. “What do you mean? You can also be very confusing.”
Till laughed wholeheartedly. “If I’m confusing, it is because of your mixed signals. It's not my fault that I have to dig through our moments together to be sure that what you're saying is true!”
“How much do you remember?”
“A lot. Up to the day we tried to escape, I think that's the oldest memory I have of us together,” he responded sincerely.
Ivan hummed. He wanted to ask, to know more about what Till had truly felt that day. Did he regret it? Would he have acted differently if he knew about the future that awaited them? He didn't push further into it.
“But what I mean is that I’m confused about my feelings for you. I know you're important to me, and I want to keep you close, even though you sometimes make me want to punch you in the face. I've been too tired to do that lately, so you’re lucky.” Till took a deep breath before turning around. This was probably a conversation they should be having face to face. “What I feel for you is probably love, maybe even something deeper than that. But I don't need a word for that.”
Ivan stared and stared; his eyes would have probably consumed Till if it was possible. He was looking at him with a mix of emotions that, once again, he wasn't able to decipher. But what he could see was the fervent shine in Ivan's eyes—one that was directed at him, and at him only. Looking back in time, Ivan had always looked at him with such intensity, even when they were kids. So he was true to his words, huh? He had truly always loved him.
“Are you gonna tease me about it, or are you gonna bomb me with affection?” Till asked, a playful smile on his lips. “Which Ivan am I dealing with today?”
Ivan returned the smile, grinning so much that it reached his eyes, his snaggleteeth showing. Till found it oddly cute. “I don't know, what do you think?”
He remembered the trend of kissing that had been in Anakt for a while, and he also remembered he had read about it in a book. It was apparently one of the most romantic forms of affection that humans had used to show off their love for their partners. Till wasn't his partner, but he loved him deeply, so it should be fine, right?
He took his hands out of the water, which had already gone cold at that point, and he raised them to cup Till’s cheeks. The other man wasn't startled by the touch; instead, he put his own hands on top of Ivan's, not breaking visual contact. He looked at him decisively. He wore his heart on his sleeve, and it was clear what he wanted right there.
Ivan started to move his face closer to Till's, until their noses collided and their breaths mingled. He nuzzled their noses for a bit, portraying his love in an Ivan-esque way, before caressing Till’s face with his thumb and closing the distance between them.
He placed his lips on Till's, finding out that they fit almost perfectly against each other. The first taste of the other's lips was almost like a movie—he could feel fireworks exploding on his chest, his cheeks burning. Having him like that wasn't enough; he wanted them to melt together, to become each other’s.
He kissed Till until he ran out of breath, and then he kissed him again, and again, and again, until his lips were swollen. Till’s arms were now tangled around his neck, his legs slightly separated to make room for Ivan between them. Ivan had one hand on the bathtub wall to support himself, while the other one was still on Till's cheek, stroking it with care. He wanted to show him that he loved him with his whole self; he'd give him his heart if he could. He would die for him.
He bit and licked Till’s lips, content when the other followed his actions, kissing him more desperately. When they ran out of breath, Ivan would give him quick pecks on the corner of his lips until they were ready to properly kiss again.
They stayed like that for a while, sharing kisses and caresses. Ivan wanted to kiss every inch of Till's body, bathing him with that undying love of his. And Till, instead of feeling overwhelmed, found himself strangely addicted to the other's touch, cupping his face while the other curiously explored his skin with his lips. It was surprising how much one can yearn and crave for another person's touch when they wanted them. Besides, Till knew that Ivan would stop if Till felt triggered, and that made him want him even more.
By the time they got out of the bathtub, the water was beyond cold. They quickly dried off and dressed up in the first clothes they could find, only to continue their desperate kissing session in Till's bed, tangled up with each other. They craved each other's warmth, and their lips were not enough.
Ivan slept with Till that night, hugging him tight, letting his face rest against the other's chest. Hearing his heartbeat made him feel so happy and alive that, just for a moment, he was able to forget about the future that awaited them. He had never felt more joyful than then, so close to his loved one, but his happiness wouldn't last forever.
Now that the tables had turned and he knew that Till loved him, would he be similar to Sua for sacrificing himself for his lover? Would Till react to his death the way that Mizi reacted to Sua's? He wasn't that sure of his decision anymore—he didn't want to scar Till for life, but he also couldn't stand the thought of living without him. Maybe he truly was selfish, huh?
Either way, they needed to make the most out of the little time they had left together. While Till slept, Ivan was scared. So, by the time Till woke up, he would be brave.