Chapter Text
Till had shoved himself into some forgotten corner of the library to get some sleep, too tired to drive himself home for the nap even if he was done with his classes for the day. He had his favorite little spot that no one else went to, a tucked away area in the nonfiction section where he was able to pass an hour of uninterrupted sleep, if the clock on the wall was correct. He yawned, getting up to stretch, and when he lifted his hand to do so he could tell that there was something off. His addled brain takes a moment to catch up, and he lifts his arm to scrutinize it. He had put on a bracelet this morning, one of his studded ones, yet now his wrist was bare. It was one of the ones that snapped shut with a button, not something that would easily fall off. Still, he checks around the chair he had been slumped in, seeing if it had been rubbed off or fallen between the cushions or something stupid like that.
Life is never easy for Till, so of course he doesn't find it. There is a rather heavy sigh, and a grumbled curse, before he lightly kicks the chair out of frustration and then turns on a heel. If something of his goes missing, he knows that chances are it’s probably in Ivan’s possession. Though they were well into their college careers, he still liked to act like he was a playground bully stealing things out of Till’s pencil case when he wasn’t looking. Ivan knew the places he liked to hide, so it wasn’t a stretch to think he came to Till while he was sleeping and took it off of him. It wouldn’t be the first fucking time. Till knew the places Ivan hung out too, and he found him pretty easily at one of the school’s common areas, surrounded by a group of people as usual. The types of people who Till couldn’t stand, and who usually ended up not being able to stand him either. He treats them like air as he slams his hands on the table next to Ivan, who greets him with a pleasant smile as his entourage gapes.
“Till,” He says, ever polite. “How are you doing?”
“Cut the bullshit.” Till was not in the mood for Ivan’s unflappable attitude right now. “Just give me my bracelet back.”
“Your bracelet?” Ivan sounds perfectly perplexed, enough to fool his stupid friends, enough to fool everyone in the god damn world except Till. And maybe Sua, though she wouldn’t ally herself with him enough to have it make any difference. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Did you lose it?”
“No, I didn’t lose it.” Till grits out, and if he was younger he would have slapped Ivan by now. But he is grown up and mature, unlike the freak in front of him who still relished in taking things that didn’t belong to him. “You fucking stole it from me, and you’re going to give it back.” Ivan opens his mouth to respond, and then one of his acquaintances cuts in.
“Dude,” Normie 1 starts out scathingly, and he doesn’t notice the minute twitch of Ivan’s eyebrows that signify annoyance at his moment with Till being interrupted, but Till does. “Ivan is not the type of guy to steal from you. Why don’t you check the lost and found instead of bothering us?” God, these people didn’t know him at all. Till opens his mouth to unleash some choice words, namely What the fuck do you know, and Who the hell do you think you are to talk to me like that, but Ivan stands smoothly before he can, taking Till’s arm and leading him away.
“It’s fine,” Ivan says, the winning smile on his face that makes everyone do whatever he wants. “I’ll help him look for it, so I’ll see you all later.” At that, he turns, and makes Till turn too. Till lets him just so he doesn’t end up saying anything he’ll regret, but he does yank his arm away from him.
“Fuck you,” he sneers. “Go back to your buddies. I don’t need your company.” Ivan keeps in stride with him, stupid long legs easily keeping up with Till’s quick pace.
“Oh, please. I should be thanking you,” Ivan says it with a laugh. “I had been trying to think of a way to extricate myself from that situation for some time. And then you appeared. You’re like my guardian angel.”
“I don’t know why you keep hanging out with people you don’t even like.” Till gripes as he elects to ignore most of Ivan’s speech, even though he knows why very well. Ivan always had something or another to say about how it was important to keep up appearances, a not so thinly veiled dig at how Till expressly refused to, and had no friends aside from their merry band to show for it. WHATEVER. He didn’t need any. “Stop talking to me. Just give me back my bracelet.”
“I really don’t have it.” He had heard these exact words from Ivan a thousand times, and he used to believe them. A day or so later, Ivan would miraculously have found whatever he'd lost and handed it back to Till. Eventually, Till started to connect the dots. “You can check my locker, if you’d like.” Till rolls his eyes.
“You’re going to take me all the way to your locker, and you’re gonna let me search it, and it’s not gonna be there.” Till seethes, but he allows Ivan to lead them in that direction anyway. “I don’t know how you have the time on your hands to do this shit. You’re busy. Stop wasting your time on me.” It comes out more self deprecating than he means it, and he immediately regrets it as Ivan smoothly responds
“My time is never wasted if it’s you.” Till hates when he says this shit, because it’s never true, and it’s always annoying. He had become quite practiced in ignoring Ivan’s flattery, and he continues to ignore it now. Soon, they arrive at Ivan’s locker, which he unlocks and gestures to with a flourish. “Go on, feel free.” Ivan’s locker was perfectly organized just like everything else he had, put together and precise. It drove Till crazy, so he made sure to put Ivan’s binders back out of order after giving the pockets inside a cursory look through. The bracelet wasn’t underneath anything, inside any of his stupid organizers, wasn’t anywhere to be found. What he did find shoved to the back was a guitar pedal. Till stares at it, pulling it out to inspect it.
“You don’t play guitar.” He says it gruffly, keenly aware of Ivan’s eyes on him as he looks at it. He recognized it, he had been looking at it in a music store recently, one of his excursions Ivan had insisted on tagging along for. He couldn’t justify the expense, so he put it back. He thinks he probably still talked Ivan’s ear off about it for the better part of an hour, the sound he could achieve with it, the songs he could perform. Ivan nodded along like always, but Till didn’t think he was actually listening.
“I don’t.” Ivan responds helpfully, leaning over to shut his locker so Till couldn’t put it back. “But I won’t be able to see you any closer to Christmas, so I wanted to give this to you now.”
That fucking bastard.
Of course he had to give this to him now. Winter break started tomorrow, and Ivan’s adoptive parents were well aware, having planned some trip they were dragging him off to so they could pretend they gave a fuck about him. Ivan was rarely around during the holidays, he was usually pulled away like this. Conversely, Till always stayed right where he was, because nobody needed to pretend to care about him. He stared hard at the pedal, something unidentifiable settling in his chest. It was warmer and softer than his irritation of before, surrounded by a shell of guilt and shame that Ivan had gotten him something that he knew he’d like, and Till...
“... I didn’t get you anything.” Till mumbles instead of thanking him, and Ivan responds that he knows. Of course he knows, he clearly knows everything about Till, including the fact that he was an asshole who didn’t care enough about his best friend to get him a Christmas gift. “You didn’t need to do this.” This is easier to say than anything else, and Ivan laughs, a hand reaching out for Till’s. Till lets him, and soon his missing bracelet is clasped around his wrist, having been fished out of Ivan’s jacket pocket.
That
fucking
bastard!
“I don’t need anything.” And Till knows Ivan means it, because he’s more low maintenance than his expensive clothes and hobbies would lead you to believe. It doesn’t stop the guilt from bubbling within him, though. “And I wanted to do it, so I did.” Ivan was usually excessively wordy, so Till’s guilt only grew more at how short and simple he was being. Because he knew it was for his own benefit, so that he wouldn’t feel bad, so that he could enjoy his stupid pedal and not think of Ivan at all. He hated when Ivan did this, when he so clearly put himself down, believing he didn’t need or deserve something nice from Till. Till didn’t know which, but it was so at odds with his usual selfish and childish demands of his attention that it drove him insane. He shook off Ivan’s hand, clutching the pedal closer to himself. He should probably say something like Don’t think about stealing from me again, or even better yet, Thank you, Ivan, but of course neither of these are what comes out of his mouth.
“I’ll write a song.” for you, is the unspoken end of the sentence he hopes Ivan picks up on. He was too embarrassed to say it out loud, Ivan always fucking read his mind so he better be able to right now. “I’ll do it while you’re away, and I’ll have it finished by the time you come back. And then I’ll play it for you.” He does not make eye contact with the other, pedal shoved into one of his deeper pockets. “So look forward to it. I’ll put it to good use, since you went out and got it for me.” Ivan smiles the smile that only Till gets to see, a familiar snaggletoothed grin that reminded him of when they were kids, before Ivan had figured out how to smooth his expression into something far more impassive.
“I will look forward to it.” His eyes are fairly glimmering, probably because Till had promised him his time. If Ivan had his way, he probably would have dragged Till out to whatever stupid fucking cruise they were going on. Till gives him a curt nod, taking a step back.
“Well– Thanks. I might write this one in a register you can actually sing.” This makes his eyes glimmer even more, and Till feels some of the guilt shift off his shoulders as it visibly sinks in to Ivan that this song was going to be a gift for him. “Enjoy your vacation, you bastard. I’ll be here freezing my ass off while you enjoy the sunshine.” And then, a pause. It’s not right to leave off on this note, not right to beat him off before he leaves. “... Merry Christmas, Ivan.”
And then Ivan gives him this look, one Till has never quite been able to figure out. There was something soft in those black eyes of his, face settling into something other than poised perfection. It looked like the sort of looks he would see Mizi and Sua giving each other, or like in the movies when someone’s love interest thought they weren’t looking back at them. But it was fucking stupid to think Ivan of all people would ever have feelings for him. For starters, he could do better than Till. And second, he wasn’t certain Ivan even had feelings like normal people. In any case, it always made him feel like he needed to bolt, so that’s exactly what he did, offering a wave over his shoulder as he hears Ivan say Merry Christmas, Till behind him.
His fingers tap against the pedal in his pocket, working out the drum beat while he figures out what kind of melody he wants to start working with in his head. Yeah, he could have a song written in the next two weeks. That bastard was always good about making him feel inspired, embarrassingly enough.