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Summary
“You know what, games are boring without stakes. So here’s the deal: I will make you win.”
“You say that like you’re God.”
“No. I say that like I could be yours.”Or:
Till thinks Ivan ruined his life. Ivan calls it 'Pavlovian pre-game' on a bad day, 'long-term courtship' on a good one.
Naturally, their partnering spirals into a contact imrpov where trust falls are emotional and ambiguously-sensual incidents involving Ivan’s hand on Till’s throat are punch-worthy.But this isn't a duet; it's softcore war crimes of the heart featuring misremembered cherry stains, questionable love bites, and psycho diver boys who say ‘hold your breath’ and don’t mean it metaphorically.