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Watching Till under the blue light of the glass aquarium, Ivan knew he was enchanted. There was something about the way the light of the refracting water and sunlight undulated across his face. Calm and ethereal, complimenting the concentrated awe of his expression. He was searching for something in those serene waters. Looking for more, like always.
Ivan had seen that look before. He’d catch glimpses of him staring out of the window during class (especially during calculus, his least favorite). Gazing up at the sky and clouds, with a scrunch to his face, a demand that they show him more than what they probably could.
Ivan admired that expression. He often couldn’t take his eyes off his classmate when it fell over his face. Behind the smudges of black eyeliner and those dark, baggy clothes, he could see Till’s intensity perfectly.
Sometimes, Ivan was foolish enough to hope that he was the one Till was searching for.
It had been a stupid idea for a field trip from the start. They were high school seniors. What the hell were they doing in an aquarium? This was a place that parents took their toddlers to “look at the pretty fish”. It was simple stimulation at best, and whatever educational value the school placed on it was way too high. Wasn’t biology, like, a year ago? What was he gonna use these ridiculous scientific names for now? Nothing that would help the grades that mattered, that was for sure.
Till wasn’t one to like having his time wasted. Most of his classmates thought this was a fun side quest. A nice little break from the monotony of routine and sitting at desks. While Till had to admit they were right in some ways, he also had to admit he was bored as hell.
Mizi had run off with Sua at some point, exclaiming something about seahorses and how pretty they were. They were probably good selfie backgrounds too. Till could imagine it. Mizi, with her long pink hair, backlit by blue. Holding Sua’s hand like it was the easiest thing. An automatic instinct.
They’d always been like that. Till saw and understood it well. It didn’t spare him from feeling jealous of their closeness. Sure, they were all friends when the day was done, but it was so natural for Mizi to choose Sua.
Till wanted his choices to feel natural too.
Right now, his decision was to hide.
It didn’t feel great, but at least it felt kind of safe. If he didn’t have the cover of friends to trail behind, it was only fitting that he’d find walls of some sort. Somewhere quiet, dark, and small. He was used to fitting into spaces like that.
There were three assignments he could pick from to occupy his time. He could take photos of similar looking fish, then piece together a presentation on where they fit in terms of animal families once he got home. A test to see just how similar or different they actually were.
He could write down information on the various placards and write a “thoughtful” essay on how each creature effected the surrounding ecosystems where they were found. The teachers even said they could get speculative with it, with implications about the future and human impacts on our earth. Yuck.
The only assignment that didn’t make Till want to barf was the sketching one. If he could draw a fish or something as true to life as possible, the teachers would consider that effort just as strenuous as the others.
Now, Till wasn’t the best at art, but he at least enjoyed trying to create things. Better than copying down benign information he didn’t give a shit about.
He just needed a place to sit down and be still for a moment. To observe something other than his own anger and let his hands work. It might be enough to distract him until it was time for them to leave.
At least the entire aquarium was dark and enclosed, just like he preferred. He passed by huge corals and anemones piled high on top of one another. Opening and flowering in pearlescent pinks, oranges, and purples. What seemed like thousands of tropical fish swirled around the sun showered water, which was so clear that Till could see every particle of sand and algae. Each glint of a scale, a tooth, a gill.
There were sea stars the color of speckled roses. Large fish the size of his forearm, all silvery and yellow along their fins. Decorator crabs and spiney lobsters scuttled their way around the rocks. A couple green sea turtles floated by, huge and graceful. They glided through the water as if they were flying, and all their scales (or “scutes”, as the placard informed) looked so uniform. The pattern of it all at once gorgeous and protective.
It was like an entire maze of creatures he never really got to see up close before. He wasn’t into going to the beach. Too much sun. Never was excited about swimming in the open ocean. Too much salt. He didn’t trust his own strength against wild currents (as much as he hated to admit that to himself).
Looking at the sea life this way wasn’t so bad though. He was kind of enjoying it, almost appreciative that he was alone. No one there to demand he draw his attention away. He could marvel at each exhibit as long as he wanted to. There was a soothing element to the loneliness here. Till wanted to stay with it.
It was the first time he felt comfortable with himself in a little while. In his body. With his thoughts. The whole aquarium trip began to feel less stupid. Bordering on nice.
And the last room he’d found was certainly the nicest thing he’d seen in a while.
Three huge, illuminated windows with nothing but jellyfish.
Well, the signs said they should actually be called sea jellies because they aren’t actually true fish. They’re invertebrates, so they have no spinal columns or vertebrae to speak of. No brain. No heart. No bones. Just floating masses of tissue, nerves, and cells called nematocysts on those long tentacles. The things that make them sting.
Till slowed at the sight of them.
They were beautiful, twirling and pulsing in the water at their own pace. Dangerous, if you got close enough. An amalgamation of fluffy, gooey clouds painted like sunsets. Dark oranges and reds, bright yellows and luxurious purples. Striped and spindling. Guided gently by unseen movement in the water.
They bathed the entire room in their glow, and Till was spellbound.
Sea jellies, of all things, actually had him wanting to draw.
These creatures had just enough detail to make it worth his while, and their colors were pleasing to the eye. It would be a challenge to capture their essence on paper, but Till liked things difficult. There were several species he could choose from too: Purple Striped Sea Nettles, South American Sea Nettles, and Pacific Sea Nettles. Maybe he could argue for extra credit if he tried to sketch all three. (Not because he needed it, but because he liked to argue).
He sat on the nearest bench he could find, opening his notebook a bit faster than he’d intended and slightly ripping a page. Which was fine. It wasn’t like he used it all that much. But if he could just get a few initial sketches down, maybe take a few pictures for reference, that would be a good start. He couldn’t remember the last time he was excited to do schoolwork.
To his surprise, when Till finally put his pencil to paper, he began to feel a sense of calm that had been eluding him for a while now. With all the pressure to figure out what he was going to do with his life after he graduated, he rarely had time to sit and be with himself.
There was no real pressure here. At least, the jellies didn’t seem to feel it. With no brains to carry thoughts or feelings, they were cruising along, living without trying. Till felt like he could kind of do the same right now. Just following each stroke of his pencil. Trusting himself to find the image his hands attempted to reshape in his notebook.
He was finally feeling relaxed when he sensed a pair of eyes watching him.
He continued drawing, doing his best to ignore whoever it was. He’d found peace here, and he wasn’t going to let anyone take it away. This was his spot, and no amount of mad-dogging was going to make him run away. He’d more likely start a fight before that ever happened.
And the one person who knew that for a fact stepped fully into the room with him.
“As much as you’d like to think it,” Ivan said, “you’re not very good at hiding.”
“Who said I was trying to?” Till snarked, even though that was exactly was he was aiming for. Pissed him off that Ivan somehow always knew his intent. How did that asshole even find him? He scribbled on the paper a bit more insistently, attempting to show him how busy he was. He didn’t have time for this bullshit conversation. He had jellies to draw.
Although, his heart did skip a beat when Ivan stepped closer. His pulse felt louder and hotter beneath his skin, too, when the jock carefully seated himself on the other side of the bench. He didn’t say a word. Only gave him a cheerful grin as he sat back and watched the jellies float by alongside him. His silence unnerved Till.
“What?” he snarled. If he couldn’t get him to talk, the least he could do was try to embarrass him as well. “Were you looking for me or something, asshole?”
“Yeah,” Ivan said, unphased, smiling wider than ever.
Till startled, feeling his spine prickle with shock. The sensation spilled over his shoulder blades and into his arms. His pencil made a thin, stray line on the paper.
Ivan’s blatant confidence always made him shiver. Till couldn’t tell if it was out of disgust or something else. He was hard pressed to put a word to it. If he did, that word might have been slightly more complimentary than he would have liked.
He didn’t want to give it much thought now either. He was here to do some work and get through the day. He didn’t need Ivan metaphorically tripping him; screwing it all up.
Ivan liked to physically trip him too sometimes, whenever Till had the misfortune of having to walk by him in the halls. But it was a weird sort of trip. Only a small flick of his toe, meant to grab his attention. Never once did Till feel like he was trying to hurt him. Still kind of annoying but not mean. If Till ever really lost his balance over it, Ivan was there to steady him. Quickly, with that consistently shining smile.
Just a thick-headed jock letting off steam, Till told himself. A little emo dude was an easy target for a sporty hunk like him. Till couldn’t measure up to his height let alone his muscle mass. It didn’t help his case that he was openly bisexual on top of that. Guys on football teams (everywhere) seemed plain weird about sexuality sometimes. It was easier to think that Ivan was just being a dumbass who didn’t know the first thing about feelings. The other alternative was daunting.
That maybe Ivan was curious about him. Or even interested.
Till focused drawing again, his fingers feeling strange and stiff now that Ivan was so close.
“The sketching assignment?” the jock asked, appreciatively peering over at what Till had drawn.
Immediately, Till covered his work, crossing his forearms over the notebook. “Could you not? I know they look like nothing but scribbles right now, but if I add some ink or color to it—”
Ivan had been slowly moving his hand towards Till while he defensively babbled, and his touch was light against his wrist. Tender in a way that rendered the young artist speechless. Cautiously, and without much force, Ivan moved Till’s arm aside. He scooted closer, his chin very close to resting on his shoulder.
“Do you like jellyfish?” he asked.
“They aren’t fish, numbskull,” Till spat, even though he didn’t know that himself until twenty minutes ago. But looking at the way those large, dark eyes admired the small graphite lines, he figured he’d been too harsh. “But…yeah. I think I do.”
Ivan sat back again. Every inch of his face looked satisfied, in the most simplistic way. It was kind of sweet. “Didn’t know that about you.”
The room settled back into silence.
Till stared at him, unsure of what this guy wanted from him (at any given moment really). He gradually went back to scratching at the paper with his pencil, trying to keep himself calm in the strange silence. It wasn’t even a bad kind of silence. Ivan looked pleased, which made Till feel a bit queasy and very warm. If Ivan touched him again, he’d be sure to notice it.
So, to make sure Ivan wouldn’t, Till decided to distract him with a question himself. “Which assignment did you pick?”
“The animal family tree thing,” Ivan said. “Seemed easiest.”
“Makes sense.” Till couldn’t fault him for that really. That was why there were three assignments. Everyone had different strengths, so some would seem easier, even if they technically weren’t. Why was he giving Ivan that charitable perspective? Who knows? But it probably did have something to do with that soft touch he gave him. His small, encouraging glances at his notebook. “What did you end up taking pictures of?”
Ivan smiled with all his teeth, proud.
“Sharks,” he said.
Till snorted, starting to smirk the tiniest bit himself. “Figures.”
The quiet that surrounded them afterwards felt less tensioned.
It seemed to give Ivan more bravery.
“Would you…” He started, then hesitated for a moment. He shook his head at himself, chuckling. “Would you like to lean on me?”
“What?”
That was the most forward that Ivan had ever been with him. It was such a wild suggestion, so out of the ordinary from their usual, bickering conversations, that it almost felt like a confession.
“This bench isn’t the comfiest,” Ivan explained. His face was red, but he didn’t stammer. He was lightly flustered, but not at all ashamed. “And if you’re going to be here for much longer, I just thought I’d offer.”
Suddenly, Till realized that it kind of was a confession. Through it, Ivan admitted that he wanted him nearer. The hand on his arm was more than just his curiosity about his art skills. The admiration in his eyes wasn’t just for the doodles in his notebook.
“Lean on you how?” Till asked, his voice little more than a shaking whisper. He didn’t dare meet Ivan’s gaze.
“Like this,” Ivan hushed, demonstrating by placing his head on Till’s shoulder. Both of them seemed to hold their breath. One warm, still moment, followed by Ivan softly nuzzling his check into him. Till gasped, and before he could be admonished, Ivan shifted and placed his head on the artist’s lap instead. “Or like this, if you want.” He grinned cheekily.
Till rolled his eyes.
“Perfect,” he said, slapping his notebook over Ivan’s face. “I needed a lap desk.”
Ivan chuckled, full and long, swatting Till’s hands and papers away until he was back in a sitting position. “I guess I could be that.” He snorted, still in Till’s personal space. His laugh lines faded into something more affectionately serious. “I wanted to find you because I didn’t know when I could talk with you again,” he said.
“We still have a few months before graduation.” That was still plenty of time if he had to get something off his chest. Why did he have to do this now?
“It’s not like we have many classes together,” Ivan reasoned. “And it’s the last field trip of the year.”
“So?”
“So.” Ivan sighed. He chuckled at himself, but his laughter sounded sad. “I’ve been super lame.”
“That’s nothing new.” Till said automatically, so used to needed to bark at Ivan’s antics. He wished he’d spoken more delicately though.
“I know.” Ivan was no longer smiling. He kept his eyes on the glass and the colorful, ghostly wonders inside. “I’ve wanted to ask you out for the longest time.”
Till couldn’t exactly say he was surprised. He’d only assumed that possibility in the back of his mind because of Mizi’s insistence. She was better at recognizing feelings and social cues. Till often trusted her with that. But he still had a sort of resistance to the idea that Ivan was doing anything other than bothering him for sport.
But hearing it from the jock himself made his whole face flare with heat regardless. “You being serious right now?” Till mumbled, although he knew he most likely was. He bit his tongue to keep from saying anything else. There were plenty of questions and critiques of his flirting skills he could impart later.
This was the only time Till would ever stop himself from giving in to impulse.
He actually wanted to hear what Ivan would say next.
“Since sophomore year,” Ivan finally added. “You told off Mr. Harding in that one literature class we had together. Saying he didn’t understand the plot at all.” He snickered, then chanced a look at Till. “Made me actually read the damn thing.”
“You’re joking.”
“Nope. You got me interested enough to read a book, Till.”
Till didn’t even remember what book he was talking about. He mouthed off any chance he got. Mr. Harding was one of the most incompetent teachers he’d ever had the misfortune of having. He doubted the man even read the books he assigned himself.
Not that he held Ivan to those standards. He figured he’d been too busy with sports practice. Things he was interested in. That’s what Till himself did, so it wasn’t like he could judge. Actually, he sort of respected that, in a begrudging way.
So, needless to say, his heart fluttered at the thought that his bitching made the jock read for once.
“I really liked how passionate you were about it,” Ivan said. “It was cool.”
This was the first time Till heard Ivan speak with not only honesty, but a hint of vulnerability. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ivan’s fingers tremble.
Till’s eyes snapped back to his notebook. He drew a few more pointless lines, darkening things that didn’t need to be shaded. He’d have to fix that later. “You fell in love that fast, huh?” he snarked, still not wanting to take any of this seriously. There was a tiny quiver to his tone, too.
“Not exactly,” Ivan murmured. “I read slowly. I think I fall in love the same way.”
Till hummed, trying not to feel charmed. “Explain that to me.”
The jock sighed, once again preparing himself for another confession. He turned towards Till for this one, leaning an elbow on the back of the bench, leaning his head on his hand. He touched his knee gently to Till’s thigh.
“I started to notice you more. Watched you a bit longer each time I saw you.” The quality of his voice shifted once more. A little dreamy, sort of quiet. He was in the room with him, but his mind wandered. “I’d suddenly hear your voice around campus and zone in on it. Or catch the way you laughed if you were with Mizi or Sua.”
Till listened with a patience he’d never had before. The way Ivan sounded right now, something in his cadence or breath, felt kind against his ears. It seemed to match the rhythmic pulsing of the jellies in front of them.
Even though he wasn’t exactly hidden anymore, a sense of calm washed over Till again.
The same couldn’t be said for Ivan though. He seemed restless, like the silence had been a snide rejection in itself. Turning towards the glass, he dug his nails into the back of his neck, not so much scratching, but gripping. “Still pretty lame, huh.”
Kind of, Till thought. But it was a disarming kind of lame, rooted in nothing but curiosity and sincerity. Coming from a guy who didn’t exactly know how to do any of this.
Till wasn’t much better. He was afraid to respond, because he knew he’d sound crass and snippy no matter what he said. Whenever he was floundering, searching for words, or taken by surprise, he got pissed on instinct. Ivan took it in stride most of the time, but he seemed much more fragile right now. He looked just like the illuminated glass, with flows of colors swirling inside him. His insides probably felt like sliding tendrils and stinging stickiness.
Or maybe Till was projecting his own nerves and hopes onto him.
He kept quiet, studying the way his black nail polish glinted while he drew.
“I wish I had better words for you,” Ivan admitted. He hunched over, elbows digging into his thighs as he hung his head in his hands. “There’s more I want to say, but it’s gonna sound dumb.”
“Then don’t,” Till said. If he could just preserve this silence, savor this weirdly delicate moment for a few minutes longer, maybe Ivan would see that words weren’t everything. They couldn’t tell Till everything he wanted to know.
Cautious, he leaned his head on the jock’s drooping shoulder. “Just sit here with me.”
He wanted to see if Ivan could even do that.
Till had never seen the jock stand or sit completely still. Always running, dodging, tackling like his life depended on it. What would happen to him if he couldn’t? What was he like when he rested? Who was he when he was forced into dim, hushed spaces?
Those were the most important answers Till could have right now.
Gradually, he received them.
There was a cautious grace to the way Ivan moved beneath him. He slowly sat up, making sure not to jostle Till too much. Then all the musculature across his frame seemed to loosen. What was once stretched so taut released, and he measuredly slumped onto the bench.
Till smiled, letting himself lean more onto Ivan. He kicked his feet up onto the bench and slid his notebook onto the jock’s lap so he could still sketch unimpeded. He heard the shocked gasp Ivan tried to hide under his breath. Till’s grin grew bigger.
Cuddling in the dark of the aquarium was not on his bingo card for this trip, but he was genuinely content to try it.
Ivan’s breath steadied, the tempo syncing with the gentle pulses of those jellies floating from afar. He moved gingerly around him, his cheek coming to rest on top of his head. Till could feel him shyly nudge his nose into his hair, a few careful exhales weaving down into his scalp.
Though his breath was warm, Till shivered.
But Ivan gave him plenty of time to settle before moving again. In fact, Till almost believed he’d fallen asleep against him; the jock’s breathing had grown suspiciously slow and calm. The thought brought a tidal wave of warmth and fuzzy softness into Till’s chest. He hated himself for finding that agonizingly cute.
He whispered his name, just to check, not to wake.
“Ivan?”
An arm wrapped itself around Till’s back, a hand coming to rest on the curve of his waist.
“Yeah?” His whisper was too soft to tell if he’d really been dozing or just caught up in the serenity of being together like this. Either way, he held him like he was begging him not to get up.
Till shook his head, tracing a few more curls and slopes around the lined paper. He was mad at himself for disrupting everything. “We should start heading back.”
Time had gotten away from them both. Might as well stop before someone caught them snuggling all the way back here.
He closed the notebook with a sharp thwap, standing up a bit too fast.
Ivan was no longer timid about closeness though. He swooped in behind him and let Till stumble into his chest as found his balance. “So, um,” he muttered, closing unsure fingers around his shorter classmate’s thin wrist. “Can I take all this as a maybe?”
“Dunno, can you?” Till snickered. Ivan didn’t seem to mind his attitude, as usual. If anything, he looked relieved that his crush was back to laughing at him.
It was amazing: how Ivan never got upset with him like others did. The jock never once took offence, simply taking it in stride. It made Till feel…safe.
Like he could be himself unapologetically (though he rarely felt like apologizing to anyone).
He took a few steps towards him, his nose only coming up to Ivan’s chin, and pressed a quick kiss to Ivan’s cheek. “Take it however you want.”
Ivan’s face went completely red. Even Till could see it through the blue tint of the room.
“You’re gonna regret that, Till.”
The grip on his wrist got tighter.
Another arm scooped him into an embrace that made his knees buckle. Lips pressed onto his, tender yet fearsome, like there was a threat of a joyful bite right behind the kiss. It was hard for Till not to drop his entire body weight into Ivan’s hold. All his athletic strength was being leveraged here, and Till nearly wanted to sink into it. Enjoy it.
He pouted when they parted, attempting to hide again. But staring up into the jock’s now sparkling grin, the affection filling his eyes, he could tell that didn’t work at all. Ivan knew.
“Or maybe you will,” Till huffed.
Yet standing so near, alone as they were, it was like gazing straight through glass. Looking at all the pulsing, startlingly vivid pulses of emotion. Colors of intent. Tendrils reaching out towards each other to tangle and twist. These pieces of them rarely so transparent before, and maybe never seen as clearly again.
Till didn’t want the view to slip away so fast.
Angrily, hastily, he ripped a piece of paper out from his notebook and scribbled his number on it.
He crumpled it into Ivan’s hand and darted from the room.
Check your locker after lunch.
That was the first text Ivan sent him a few days later. Till figured it was him at least. Wasn’t like he was giving out his number very frequently.
He’d have to get another textbook from his locker for his next class after lunch anyways. He wasn’t exactly doing it because Ivan had told him too. It was his damn locker. Whatever he’d stuffed in there, Till was bound to find it.
He wondered absentmindedly if Mizi had given him his lock combo, or if he’d just seen him do it once or twice before while passing by. He’d have to ask about it later.
The mystery was a good distraction away from his excitement. He didn’t like surprises as much as his friends did, but he did find it kind of sweet. Which also made him a little mad. Words like sweet were not supposed to be in his vocabulary.
Opening his locker, he found a gift placed neatly atop his stack of textbooks.
A small plush keychain of a sea jelly. Glittery, a little fuzzy in places. Striped with blue and purple.
Till took it in his hands, chuckling in disbelief. He remembered having eyed this one in the aquarium’s giftshop, since it looked like the purple striped sea nettles. He had secretly decided those were his favorite. Ivan must have bought it when he wasn’t paying attention.
“Like it?” a voice behind him asked.
“Unfortunately yes, dumbass.”
Till got the advantage this time, whirling around to plant an all too fleeting kiss on Ivan’s lips. He didn’t exactly care who saw.
Which was good, because Ivan had a matching keychain dangling from his backpack (though his sea jelly was a little more yellow and orange).
Ivan laughed. “Good.”
He didn’t need to say much more.
If their eyes met, he didn’t need to.
The glass hadn’t fogged up yet.