Chapter Text
The supermarket was strangely overcrowded for a regular Tuesday evening, and Till had to ask a consultant for help to find the item he needed.
"Excuse me, but I need face masks of this specific brand," he says to a tired-looking girl, because, obviously, it was useless to ask the male employees. The girl looks at the photo of the required package and gives a slight shrug, sighing: "We don't have that one. I can suggest something else."
Till hides his slight disappointment and nods gratefully as the consultant leads him through the aisles and the multifaceted crowd, as if the apocalypse or the New Year were coming tomorrow, and everyone needed to stock up on food for months ahead.
Till tiredly rubs his face when he finally gets the package of masks into his hands. He just hopes Ivan won't be too upset about it. He had always been a pedant about his skincare.
After standing in an absurdly long checkout line, the guy exhales with relief when he finds himself in the fresh evening air with bulky bags in his hands, thinking only of getting home as soon as possible. He wants to suggest making spaghetti for dinner to Ivan, and a tired, faint smile touches his lips for a moment at the memory of his boyfriend.
It will soon be a year since they started dating, and Till, despite his recent fatigue and apathy, feels he's living only for the plans of a grand celebration. Grand, in his understanding, meant him, Ivan, some home decorations, and good food. And then he planned to thoroughly make love to his boyfriend, because—and Till feels awkward about these thoughts—but he and Ivan had had an unspoken truce for the last two weeks. Or rather, it wasn't like that: they hadn't had real sex for a month—Till had been counting—not because he was unbearably impatient, but because Ivan had never acted like this before. He had never been shy, never pushed Till away from the moment Till officially confessed his love to him, and everything had happened that very same day. And perhaps, someone else in his place would have blamed the strange behavior on magnetic fields and solar flares—well, Till was somewhat weather-sensitive from time to time—because it seemed as if Till's apathy had transferred to Ivan as well. But the problem was, this was *them*, and Ivan had always been a rather reserved guy in daily life, and no matter how much Till insisted that they needed to talk more openly with each other, all the openness Till ever got in the end were little talks in bed. Not that he disliked it, but he meant something entirely different.
After fighting with Ivan for the right to hear his honest opinion about their relationship—or any display of feelings at all—and suffering more than one defeat, Till at some point resigned himself and simply changed tactics. If he couldn't get through to Ivan with words—he would act. It wasn't that he hadn't cared for his boyfriend before, but those were spontaneous emotional outbursts, quite frequent, but unstructured. Now he had learned to care for Ivan consciously. Till did it not only because it gave him pleasure to see Ivan happy, but purposefully, now enjoying the process of building plans on how he would make Ivan happy. For example, Till liked consciously memorizing his boyfriend's favorite brands, his food and sexual preferences, truly noticing what made Ivan delighted (for instance, the fact that Ivan's pupils would dilate and his face would change almost imperceptibly when Till called him the cute nicknames he had invented just for him).
They had met on stage when Ivan's mixed group was asked to do a collaboration with Till's band.
AXIS was just gaining popularity back then, while CRAVÉ had already made a name for itself, holding firmly to the top of the charts in the "rock" and "pop" music sections for two years. In those days, people were just beginning to move away from the mass obsession with rock music, slowly but surely leaning towards calmer, more romantic "pop." This partly became an excellent launchpad for the rise of AXIS, which included Ivan, Mizi, and half a year later, their longtime school friend Luca joined them. Luca, despite being three years older, immediately won the public's love because he looked like an angel descended to earth. In interviews, Ivan often liked to joke that this guy was "too fixated on his appearance, so in their shared bathroom, his jars and tubes of skincare already cover the floor because there's no space left in the cabinets." Mizi would laugh innocently at these remarks, but her face showed that Ivan was telling the truth, and Luca would just snort and roll his eyes, offering no comment.
The group CRAVÉ consisted of Till, Hyuna, and Sua and fully lived up to its name. If AXIS seemed stable and calm, yet bold enough to top the charts and truly act as an "axis" in the world of K-pop, despite not having been in it for long, then the "craving" of CRAVÉ manifested in the wild, fiery character of its members, who wrote and performed equally passionate music.
Both groups, although not traditional boy- and girl-bands, managed to create a real sensation when they performed together. People said it was all due to their exclusive talent and the members' inner charisma, and furthermore, fans, upon seeing them together, began fiercely drawing analogies. They even compared the appearance and behavior of Ivan and Sua and suggested they were relatives! And if they weren't—that was even spicier, because it left room for a certain mysticism, as if the universe itself created people like characters in a book, with specific character traits and even looks, and then brought them together, sending hints and weaving a ton of symbolism into ordinary routine.
It must be said that even before the collaboration, fans tended to "ship" Ivan and Luca because of their sun-and-moon dynamic, light and shadow. To be completely honest, Ivan didn't like that people in their fanaticism reached a state where they almost excluded Mizi from their group, claiming that "the couple should be together" and "yes, the girl looks cute, but let's face it, she's the third wheel." In such moments, Ivan would stand up for Mizi, trying in every way to boost her authority—simply because she was his best friend, and it was unpleasant for him to see her despised by those who simultaneously idolized him and Luca. And really—him and Luca? That was just awkward, but fans always did awkward things, and the task of idols and agencies was to throw more wood on their fire to make the group more discussed. Idol popularity was largely built on drama, not music, and Ivan saw a certain irony in that.
But that's a digression—the main point is that as soon as "Crave" appeared on stage next to "Axis," fans had much more room for "creativity." Now, roughly speaking, they had a place to "ship" Mizi, because they noticed how in several photos Till was looking at her—Ivan wouldn't say his gaze could be characterized as lovestruck or even with a hint of romantic sympathy, but fans only see what they want to see. Yes, the brunette knew that the member of CRAVÉ admired the girl—but, to be frank, who didn't? Ivan admired her too, and not just because he knew her better than anyone. Mizi was simply one of those people you should admire. It was normal. He knew Luca did too, even if he didn't show his feelings in public or in their circle—that's just how he was. But it was true that Mizi did almost everything for their team—wrote songs and music, choreographed—while the guys, well... they were just the "cover faces" that impressionable fans swooned over. And they also flawlessly executed everything Mizi told them to do—and never once messed up.
Time passed like this, the groups, riding the wave of popularity and the success of their collaboration, worked together more and more, so sometimes it seemed they had merged into one. They often traveled together on tours, stayed in the same hotel, and once they were even housed in the same dormitory when the musicians got stuck in America for a long tour. And it was... not bad.
And then two things happened: they weren't allowed to have relationships, but Till, drunk at one of their meet-ups, made a very ambiguous confession to Mizi, saying he liked her. No one ever fully understood if he meant simple liking as a person, since by that time it was known in their circles that Mizi was a lesbian, or if something more was speaking through him, simply because the guy could no longer hide his infatuation. Later, when asked about it, Till would just blush and brush it off, saying, "Of course, I like her as a person and a professional, and I generally just admire her as a talented colleague from whom one can learn a lot."
Only, for some reason, Ivan didn't believe him.
And a couple of days later, Luca found him, drunk from three glasses of wine in their hotel room, where he and Luca had been placed together, as usual. And Ivan confessed that he was gay and that he liked Till.
"I-I mean, I don't know, hyung," Ivan mumbled, looking almost pitiful. Not that Luca hadn't seen him like this, because they still remained the closest people in their band amidst this musical chaos, and had once promised to support each other no matter what. Luca intended to keep that promise because, obviously, he wasn't some coward and traitor who would abandon a school friend in a difficult moment. "I don't understand anything, I just want to kiss him every time I see him, and it's..."
"And that's being in love," Luca sighs, picking the brunette up from the floor by his armpits, holding him close like a big child and dragging him onto the sofa in the living room, puffing slightly. Ivan was still quite a hulk, nearly two meters tall with well-developed muscles, thanks to their gym membership. But despite Luca looking more like a twink with a good male figure in comparison, Ivan remained... well, just a naive fool and a crybaby when it didn't concern work. Ivan was tender and vulnerable, as tender and vulnerable as a person performing on stage and dealing with show business since the age of ten could be. He had learned to mask himself perfectly, so even Luca sometimes found it hard to read him. That was partly why the blonde was so surprised when Ivan confessed about Till to him. Even if he had been pining for that guy for some time—even the fans, it seemed, hadn't noticed. And those ubiquitous rodents noticed everything, even things that never existed. And that single fact illustrated well Ivan's ability to hide.
"What should I do, hyung?" Ivan whispered in a trembling voice into his neck, as Luca—quite habitually, actually, although he didn't often rescue Ivan from crises, but they were both quite tactile despite Luca's external coldness and mannerisms in public—as he climbed onto the sofa with his feet up and settled his comrade on his lap, slowly stroking his back in a calming gesture.
Luca snorted. Who was he to know? The blonde had been too focused first on studies, then on his career, to even start a relationship. He had tried dating people in college a few times, but it led nowhere—they didn't even kiss in the end. Luca didn't want to admit it, because he didn't consider himself a snob or an arrogant brat, but he felt disgust as soon as he imagined kissing someone, let alone having sex with them. Like all normal guys, he wanted it, but feeling desire and thinking vulgar thoughts didn't mean acting on them. He was just sure that if it came to practice, at best, he wouldn't like it. At worst—he'd throw up.
Thoughtful, Luca slowly rocks Ivan in his arms, who, mind you, was a head taller than him. He runs his fingers through his hair and carefully scratches his scalp, like a dog, feeling Ivan exhale contentedly on his lap—and a barely noticeable, slight warmth rushes through Luca's body from this action.
"You know we're not allowed to date anyone," Luca finally says, looking at Ivan but not seeing his face, still hidden in his neck. "I think, especially not a guy from another group," he snorts. Ivan remains silent for a long time on his shoulder, making Luca anxiously reach for his face to make him look at him, but the brunette finally lets out a long, humble exhale.
"I know," he confirms. "And yet... being with him on the same stage, in the same rehearsal space is so..."
"Exhausting?" Luca suggests. "Mentally."
Ivan finally lifts his head and looks at him almost in surprise.
"You understand?" asks Ivan, and Luca skeptically raises an eyebrow at the amazement in his voice.
"I can imagine," Luca says, not knowing what he means, stopping his stroking for a moment. Ivan notices this and rubs discontentedly against his hand, asking him to continue, and Luca raises the corner of his lip and begins to more actively ruffle Ivan's perfect hairstyle, which had long ceased to be perfect.
Ivan is silent for a while, looking at his hands lying both between his legs and on Luca's knees. Then he lifts his head again and tilts it slightly to the side—as, Luca knows, dogs do when they seem to ask their owner, "what's wrong?"
"It's Hyuna, right?" says Ivan, and there's nothing in his voice, no hidden feelings like displeasure or friendly teasing. He's curious. Luca blinks his thick, light eyelashes.
"What about Hyuna?" he doesn't understand. Ivan, seemingly seeing his genuine bewilderment, blushes for a moment and turns away, waving his hand:
"No, no, nothing, I just thought... never mind."
Luca chuckles cheerfully and suddenly leans forward, turning Ivan's head towards him and pressing his forehead against his. Ivan feels Luca's warm, fresh breath on his face and blushes a little, but more from the warmth and closeness than from embarrassment. The two of them had lived together for too long, and once, drunk, they had even jerked each other off. Both had come to terms with the fact that they couldn't have relationships on the side, but they still craved touch because both were too tactile. So, it wasn't surprising how they could sit cuddling for hours watching a movie or touch each other quite frankly without a hint of anything more. At least for them. Of course, in front of cameras and on stage, they remained as composed as possible and didn't allow even fleeting unnecessary touches, saving them for the privacy of their shared room. At the very beginning of their career, Mizi, noticing their closeness, had even awkwardly tried to find out the status of their relationship: "Maybe friends with benefits?" she said, diligently hiding her awkwardness and putting on a serious face of a supportive friend, "It's okay, I would never judge you guys, it's everywhere nowadays." Then Ivan and Luca just looked at each other in bewilderment and laughed under the girl's slightly offended, confused gaze, and then apologized to her in unison for the inconvenience caused. And they explained that they loved physical contact but would never cross the line or, moreover, date. After all, first and foremost, they were all teammates. It would be a big mistake to have affairs at work, especially when they were literally forced to live under one roof. In case of a relationship, any minor scandal, quarrel, or misunderstanding would badly affect their activities.
In the end, all three apologized to each other, and they had a frank conversation, as a result of which Mizi calmed down: she wasn't a third wheel, the boys were just coping with forced loneliness as best they could.
Half-jokingly, Ivan even suggested then that Mizi join their "hug therapy," saying that the three of them could sit on the sofa cuddling and watching soap operas (to which Luca added with a hint of sarcasm that then Ivan would embarrass the girl with his sobbing over the on-screen drama, for which he got a slap), and Mizi just rolled her eyes—a gesture she had picked up from Luca—and seriously said her firm and even indignant "no."
"No, guys, unlike you, I still treat physical contact as something intimate, something you can only do with a loved one. And of course, I love you very much too, but not that much," she laughed at the end, as if trying to hide the residual awkwardness.
But in the end, they sorted everything out, and Ivan and Luca really tried not to bother the girl with the sight of them brutally hugging and hanging all over each other after another stressful concert, doing their things behind closed doors. They really hoped Mizi wouldn't get the idea that something more than just touching might be happening behind those doors. Because it wasn't—between them, since high school, there had been a clear agreement about boundaries, which they easily adhered to and had no intention of violating.
This continued for some time: Ivan silently pined for Till, however, not showing any of his worries in public, so even the fans didn't notice. Luca could only watch him and his actions in the presence of CRAVÉ's lead guitarist and backing vocalist with a bit of condescension and a little—just a tiny bit—of anxiety, although he knew perfectly well that Ivan wasn't one to do stupid things. When it came to work, he was a true professional and that's why he had achieved such success—Ivan's popularity at different periods even eclipsed Luca's, who, although he had an "angelic" appearance, also quickly became boring due to his excessive perfection. Ivan was an ideal in another, more stable sense—his appearance had cute flaws like a protruding canine and thick eyebrows, but at the same time, he managed to combine idealism with a certain recklessness. Ivan could be two-faced on stage—simultaneously dressed to the nines, without any hint of sloppiness, but with a natural "flaw" in the form of the aforementioned features. Add to that his deliberately calm, polite, non-conflict character without excessive pompousness, but a scorching, confident charisma when he truly engaged in a dialogue with someone. In other words, Ivan was a mix of incompatible things, he was simultaneously a perfect, finished image, harboring consciously hidden contradictions that fans so enjoyed digging up and trying on themselves. Luca's image, on the other hand, was typically clichéd to the point of absurdity—a heavenly handsome man with an angelic appearance and a cold, somewhat poisonous soul. There was nothing to dig up here, and sometimes Luca even wondered how he had managed to stay on the pedestal of popularity for so long. In the end, he came to the conclusion that it was all thanks to his dynamic with Ivan, without whom Luca's majestic image would have long since bored everyone. And some small part of Luca's consciousness was pleased that people shipped him with Ivan. There was a certain omen in it, a joke of fate and simultaneously its blessing: Luca had no close people besides Ivan, even his parents had died when the guy was fifteen—just after he signed a contract with an idol agency and started training with them, and then Ivan joined him, and they became inseparable. They studied together, and now worked and lived under one roof, and Ivan, an orphan from birth, could understand Luca like no one else. So they remained all each other had, too busy and seeing no point in looking for anyone else, until Mizi joined them. And the girl quickly and harmoniously fit into their duo, expanding it to a trio, and when the two saw how selflessly she worked and gave her all to the group, they literally began to idolize her, never entertaining any dishonorable thoughts about her.
They trusted Mizi, and Mizi trusted them—and Ivan, at least, knew for sure that he was ready to tear out the throat of anyone who looked at her the wrong way. Mizi often laughed at his dog-like devotion, but her eyes glistened wetly with gratitude. Luca watched them from the side, always seemingly somewhat detached and elevated above the world, but Ivan knew for sure that he felt the same. They had become a family.
But then something happened that Luca still partly couldn't believe and come to terms with.
After a whole year of successful collaboration with CRAVÉ, right before the New Year, Ivan said he wanted to be alone but would definitely return to them on Christmas Eve so they could celebrate together as usual. He looked paler than usual, and Luca had noticed for a long time that something was going on with him, but attempts to start a conversation didn't help—Luca was angry at this ability of Ivan's to truly close himself off when something was seriously bothering him. In the end, he attributed it to the enormous tension that always arose towards the end of the year before the holidays, and really tried to distract Ivan as best he could—touched him, initiated hugs himself, cooked for him, although the blonde hated cooking and usually pawned it off on the staff or Ivan himself. But nothing helped—on the contrary, Ivan even began to avoid hugs and increasingly shied away from the touches he himself constantly asked for, whining and begging for affection like a little child. In the end, Luca couldn't take it anymore and rather rudely told him off when Ivan once again came back from training, where he had been torturing himself until late at night, looking like a walking corpse. Luca then, without thinking, blurted out the first thing that came to mind: about his appearance. Something about how Ivan would maintain his perfect condition, which he always cherished, if he behaved like an irresponsible pig, not eating enough, not sleeping enough, and even getting on Luca's nerves with his martyr look, because they still, mind you, lived together, and Luca didn't like watching Ivan drive himself into the ground and break *his* own concentration.
It seemed his words, which at that moment seemed to Luca to be the truth and a simple statement of fact, which were supposed to sound like motivation to pull himself together by the end of the year, since there was very little left, and they could all rest together, turned out to be... a bit... too harsh.
Sometimes Luca, no matter how well he knew Ivan, forgot in the heat of emotion how sensitive he could be.
Then, standing on the threshold of their shared room, Ivan turned even paler—though, one would think, how was that possible. He pressed his lips together so hard that his canine dug into the lower one, and it must have been painful, Luca thought then, but continued to glare at him silently and gloomily.
Finally, Ivan swiftly turned on his heel and flew out of the room, muttering something like "sorry" and "I'll sleep somewhere else so I don't bother you, you shouldn't have waited for me to return."
Luca frowned even more and sighed heavily. He was very tired himself these hectic days, and now Ivan was moping—and he had to pull both of them out of the pit, as he always did by right of being the elder, despite the fact that Ivan was always a professional and very, very rarely caused trouble. At least, everything Luca ended up having to babysit weren't Ivan's mistakes as an idol, but rather his true emotionality, which he displayed in all its glory when he took off the mask. But Luca liked it—that Ivan trusted him like no one else in the world. Only to him did he allow to see his tears, his fear, his nervousness. He often came to their room after concerts or training, and his mask of cold self-confidence would fall off as soon as Luca barely touched his comrade in a silent request to open up. Ivan would start complaining, let his emotions out—and finally become a human, not a perfect bio-robot with a glued-on smile. And sometimes—rarely, really-really—Luca was led on by such unconditional trust. After all, he could trust Ivan just the same, and they still had no one closer to them than each other.
That evening, Luca felt too exhausted to worry about Ivan's antics, so he just threw a message into their group chat with Mizi: "Ivan, come back when you've calmed down," and, after a thought, added: "Don't do anything stupid. The concert is the day after tomorrow, let's finish this year and rest with a clear conscience."
Mizi wrote something, alarmed by the news that Ivan had left—but Luca had no strength left to answer, and he decided that Ivan wasn't a child—he could figure it out himself.
They had work. They were all tired. The day after tomorrow was a joint concert with CRAVÉ.
A concert that ultimately had to be canceled—because of which the companies sponsoring their bands lost a lot of money and almost poured that shit on the heads of the ordinary members.
And it was all because of Ivan—Luca thought maliciously, standing in the middle of the producer's office, who was raging and fuming, yelling on the phone, because the day before the concert Ivan disappeared. He didn't come to practice, and Mizi and Luca immediately reported it. And now he couldn't be found for several days, his phone was found in a fucking trash can behind the dormitory building, and the CCTV footage from the streets was only obtained two days after the official search began due to delays with the local authorities and the fact that it turned out some cameras had been broken for a long time, but the administration had done nothing about it and was now trying to cover up their negligence.
Luca was ready to personally strangle all those lousy dogs from the city hall, the prosecutor's office, even from their own agency—but worst of all, he wanted to strangle himself for allowing Ivan to leave their fucking room that evening.
Because three days later, Ivan was found in one of the hotels on the other side of Seoul, a small, shabby one, and it turned out the guy had paid the manager not to reveal his location.
When the police and people from the agency broke into the room, they saw Ivan lying motionless in a pile of blankets. His face was almost gray, and his pulse was barely detectable, and Luca, looming behind the specialists, had a hyperventilation attack, causing the ambulance to have to resuscitate two people at once.
In the end, Ivan survived. But the incident was recorded in his personal file as a "suicide attempt," and the company personally prescribed him weekly meetings with a verified psychotherapist.
Later, sitting in their shared room in the dormitory after the investigation under plausible pretexts had hushed up the case of the idol's disappearance and announced a short hiatus for AXIS, Ivan, breaking a long, oppressive silence, apologized to his comrades—for which Luca almost killed him, God knows, this guy had frayed his nerves, almost died, and now was apologizing for it!
But Ivan said it firmly enough that even Luca doubted he was lying: "It wasn't a suicide attempt. The fools at the agency just made a fuss out of nothing again."
Mizi, after a pause, looking at Ivan with cautious sympathy, still remarked:
"They found pills in that room. You drank almost the whole pack."
Ivan winced as if he had eaten something sour and bitter.
"They were painkillers. I had a terrible migraine, and at some point I got desperate because the headache was just awful and wouldn't go away, and I was... a bit out of it. So I didn't watch the dosage."
Luca drilled him with a gloomy look, listening silently. Actually, he knew Ivan could be careless, and that sometimes he was tormented by terrible headaches, but usually at such moments the brunette would return to their room, take analgesics, and ask Luca to hug him or just sit nearby, stroking his hair. Somehow, it really helped.
But this time, Luca wasn't nearby. Luca had simply let Ivan leave and deal with it alone, knowing that Ivan would never go to doctors.
Could he be excused by not knowing Ivan was in pain?..
Obviously not. He had no excuse even for letting him leave and not spend the night in their room, not even bothering to find out where Ivan was going.
Actually, he could have waited out the night on the sofa in the common room. He could, in the end, rent another, separate room in the same dormitory where almost no one lived. They would have given him the keys and maybe not even asked for payment.
He could have done anything. But instead, Ivan was so depressed and obviously not okay that he just went, without belongings and his phone, to the other end of the city and rented a room in a cheap hotel, even though he could afford a luxurious penthouse.
Luca knew it was partly his fault and was angry at himself first and foremost.
But the truth was, he understood perfectly when he saw Ivan, even without his words, who else was to blame for his friend's condition.
He knew and was angry at that guy much, much more than he should have been. Truth be told, Till probably had nothing to do with it—it was all Ivan. Fell in love himself, worked himself up into a godless state, and then went and... did whatever it was. Knowing Ivan, Luca didn't completely believe his words that it wasn't a suicide attempt. Actually—and the blonde shuddered at the thought—he knew him well enough to say: most likely, it was.
Maybe in the heat of emotion, maybe a stupid and not serious one, but the fact remained: Ivan almost died, and it was all because of Luca and—he was almost sure—because of unrequited love for Till, which Ivan had so carefully hidden even from his best friend. Because after that drunken confession, Ivan extremely rarely touched on that topic—in fact, almost never or only jokingly.
Even though Luca understood it was not a joke.
He couldn't leave it like that, convinced that Ivan would indeed rather jump off a roof than confess and have an honest talk with Till, who showed no interest in him—their relationship couldn't even be called friendly. Till politely smiled at Ivan, answered his questions, collaborated when necessary—but no more than that. Perhaps he really didn't notice Ivan's feelings, which probably only Luca knew about. Maybe Mizi had guessed but didn't say anything, leaving the problem's solution to Ivan and Luca—as if Luca was the chief pimp here, for God's sake.
But even if Till rejected Ivan—wouldn't Ivan be okay? Luca couldn't believe that his best friend was suffering so much over some guy he didn't even really talk to and had essentially known for only about a year.
And then, when Luca tried to talk to him about it once again, Ivan literally had a hysterical fit. He shook as if in a seizure, sobbed, not even letting Luca hug him as he usually did, and confessed that he had admired Till for a very long time. Even before he himself became an idol.
Luca was bewildered. Luca was furious. For the first time in a long time, he was out of touch with reality, not knowing what to say or how to react.
Ivan had been in love with Till since school? Since fucking high school, when that freak in chains had just ascended the stage, when Luca and Ivan themselves sat at his home, helping the whining idiot prepare for exams, when they truly became close friends—that's when Ivan started admiring Till, and Luca...
Luca knew nothing about it. Rather, Ivan hadn't told him.
"How much more, damn it, have you been hiding from me all this time?" Luca mutters, mechanically stepping back and pretending not to notice how Ivan's eyes widen in fear at this movement. The blonde looks up at him, and perhaps for the first time in the history of their acquaintance, his gaze is splashing with so many naked emotions. Bewilderment, disbelief, pain, bitterness—Ivan bursts into tears again, only now sobbing loudly and openly, as if he's scared. He himself reaches for Luca, and Luca, well, a complete asshole and he knows it—but he recoils from Ivan and covers his face with his hands.
Shock mixes with pain, pouring out into a crooked, fanged smirk.
He had never actually been Ivan's friend, right? And Ivan—this stranger had never trusted Luca with anything important from his life at all.
All these years, he had been hopelessly in love with some freak from CRAVÉ—and Luca was completely in the dark.
But Luca wasn't going to make the same mistake twice. Even if he felt as if he had been shattered and swept into a pile of fragments, he couldn't allow himself to leave Ivan alone again after almost losing him once. He stood there, listening to the loud sobs and wails of his best friend, whom he thought he knew if not everything, then at least the most important things—and now it wasn't so—and he didn't know what to do, but...
Luca pulled himself together anyway, approached, and clenched Ivan in an embrace, and this impossible, whiny, two-faced idiot let out the loudest sob and began to calm down. The blonde squeezed him as if he wanted to crush or suffocate him—but Ivan really calmed down while Luca rocked him in his arms, intermittently running his palms over his back.
"So, you've been gay for a long time, then?"—after an eternity of silence, Luca said with a crooked smirk and exhaled with relief when Ivan, buried in his shoulder, laughed a bit hysterically. "And I lived in the same room with you and didn't even know that."
Ivan seemed to tense up at these words, and Luca mentally slapped his forehead. Damn, he had chosen a disgusting time to be a homophobic asshole. Ivan pulled away, and Luca couldn't suppress a disappointed groan, at which Ivan's gaze went from scared and depressed to wary.
"I would never..." Ivan began hoarsely, looking into his eyes, but faltered, as if he didn't know what to say. He coughed, and Luca was about to apologize and say he had made a shitty joke, but Ivan continued almost inaudibly. "Actually, I think I'm demi..."
Luca closed his eyes as if he couldn't bear it. Already knowing the answer, he clarified with a sigh:
"Those people who only want those they fall in love with?"
Ivan awkwardly pursed his lips and looked down, hearing Luca's tone.
"Okay"—after a too long pause, Luca turned away, closing the topic. "But you can't spend your whole life like this... behaving like this," he almost said "spending your whole life pining for someone who won't reciprocate," because Till was clearly straight. And the fact that Ivan didn't have a dick between his legs didn't help—externally, he was masculine enough for fans of cute femboys not to get hard for him.
"Why not?" Ivan grumbled with his usual capriciousness, frowning, and Luca smiled almost tenderly at the familiar picture. This guy would be okay, wouldn't he? At least as long as Luca watched over him twenty-four seven—which was exactly what he intended to do. And maybe something more. He still couldn't come to terms with the fact that Ivan could just pine like that for someone *seriously* and for his whole life. Something had to be done about it. Yes, the situation was a stalemate, since it turned out it wasn't a fleeting infatuation but a feeling cherished in his heart for years, but it could still be torn out by the roots, right? Luca wanted to hope so. When it came to solving problems, he could be ruthless, even if it concerned the feelings of his best friend.
Luca didn't answer.
Tomorrow he had a difficult conversation ahead.
Which, nevertheless, unfolded in a completely different direction than Luca expected.
`.' -----✈
Yes, perhaps he had acted like the worst friend in the whole world by telling Till about Ivan's feelings, not even hiding their longevity. To say that Till's eyes popped out of his head would be an understatement. But what made Luca fall into a stupor was how rapidly Till blushed and began to stutter, although he tried his best to pull himself together. Seemingly, throwing quick glances at Luca, he wanted to say something, to confess something—but Luca wasn't interested (and, as it turned out, in vain).
Because that day he left, throwing out something like, "Deal with this, I beg you. We all know you'll never reciprocate Ivan's feelings, but I need you to tell him as gently as possible and you solve the problem,"—pausing, Luca threw a devastating look at the still pink Till, promising all the torments of hell, and warned. "If you hurt him, I..."—he sighed, then turned and approached the rocker again. As close as possible, breathing in his face and looking with unconcealed hatred. "If he again..."—his voice trembled—"tries to *do something to himself because of you*—I'll go to jail, but you'll die. Understood?"
Till shuddered, his gaze stopped and glazed over, and his face rapidly paled. A trembling voice barely reached his ears.
"He... d-did it... because of me?.."
Luca narrowed his eyes and didn't answer, turning on his heel towards the door.
— I've said everything.
...And a week later, Luca found out that Till had confessed his sympathy to Ivan.
`.' -----✈
Till couldn't say he had ever been in love with anyone. To be completely honest, he liked Mizi—simply because she was so cute and beautiful, the ideal girl that everyone liked. Even Ivan was crazy about her, wasn't he? Mizi was cute, with long pink hair, a good character, but with a steely will and...
But Till didn't pay attention to his fleeting feelings because Mizi was liked by millions of fans in the same way. Just like Till himself was liked by them.
But what Luca said that day... Ivan? He didn't seem like someone who falls in love — more like someone who makes others fall in love with him.
And goddamn, Till would be lying if he said he wasn't damn excited and flattered by the news that this impossible guy had been a fan of him since school. It was just unreal. He couldn't believe the universe loved Till so much.
Till tried not to impose friendship on Ivan—or anyone outside his group—and especially nothing more than polite relations between colleagues. Ivan had recently ascended the stage but had conquered the world in record time—and that was something to be admired. A couple of times, Till even caught himself feeling a bit of white envy—if he himself had the same appearance and charisma as this guy, it was scary to imagine what a furor they would cause—hell, Till would probably go crazy with arrogance, damn it, he'd be worse than Luca!
But the confession that Till himself had been liked by Ivan all this time—and not just as an object of worship or motivation to try harder, but... something more. His insides turned over when he realized that Ivan had done what he did to himself because of *him*. Yes, the AXIS agency tried not to publicize it, but Till couldn't not know about how Ivan disappeared and then was resuscitated for several days, saving his life from a painkiller overdose.
And now Till finds out—completely innocent, not involved in anything happening inside "Axis"—he finds out that he almost became the cause of death of one of the most popular idols—no, not like that, he almost killed *Ivan*. The guy he thought was too cool and unflappable for this world, who turned out to be... what? Just a human capable of carrying unrequited feelings for so long?
Till felt like a traitor when he thought about reciprocating Ivan's feelings—because Till wasn't worthy. Definitely, he wasn't the one who should be next to this guy who had so desperately climbed from the very bottom to become a bright star in the sky, and who could love someone so desperately, almost certainly knowing he wouldn't be reciprocated, because Till had never been gay, he openly stated he was straight and that fact was unlikely to change.
How was Till supposed to feel in this situation—Till, who had never even thought about kissing a guy, let alone having reciprocal feelings for Ivan. It turned out, without knowing or wanting it, he had caused so much trouble—and now even the eternally calm, unflappable Luca hated him. By the way, that same Luca who had spent almost his whole life next to Ivan, since childhood—and from what Till had heard from others, this guy had always taken care of his friend. There were even talks that they were too close, almost to the point of intimacy, which couldn't help but lead to certain thoughts. Till had seen how Luca reacted to him, how jealously he protected Ivan, thinking he was behaving naturally around him—but Till, never having been in love himself, could suspiciously easily recognize someone else's attachment from the outside (if it didn't concern himself and, obviously, Ivan, who masterfully hid his emotions). So, yes, the rational part of him screamed that Luca was Ivan's best friend and it was natural that he wanted to protect him, especially after what happened. But another part of his consciousness shamefully resembled the fans shipping Ivan and Luca, because these two, unlike the others, were truly close in a way that was enviable.
Till felt like all this would finally blow his mind. But he also felt...
A pleasant, tingling warmth when he looked at Ivan.
At this collected, cheekily grinning guy who sang and moved so amazingly and communicated with the press so confidently, as if born for it.
And Till thought—goddamn, he would be a complete fool if he let this guy slip without even trying, just because he had once hammered into his head that he only liked girls.
Besides, wasn't Ivan (according to his personal file) one of those who, by all accounts, was male but had female genitalia?
Probably, having sex with him would be the same as having sex with a woman, Till told himself, calming down. So that wouldn't be a problem, right? Because, *um*, it would be complete hypocrisy to tell Ivan he liked him and then fail in bed, wouldn't it?
So those who would call Till frivolous and hasty would be wrong—for Till couldn't think of anything else for a whole week, weighing all the pros and cons, and he also worried about Ivan's feelings, for whom his sudden confession would surely be a shock. Oh, he was really worried about Ivan—especially after the news that he had almost killed himself because of Till—but wisely decided that the best option wasn't to reject this guy but to accept his sincere and clearly deep, cherished-for-so-many-years feelings. That should make him happy, right? Whereas rejection—hardly.
They started dating immediately after the confession. Till, it seemed, had worried in vain—yes, at first Ivan looked terribly confused and turned so pale that Till even got scared; but then the brunette pulled himself together and smiled—a strained smile, quickly turning into a confident, waxen one—and seemed genuinely happy. Till smiled back quite—well, he could pat himself on the shoulder in respect. With one action, he had rid Ivan of the desire to die from unrequited love, one could say saved a person, and also got a hot guy for himself, a guy millions around the world dreamed of at night.
Till was very, very proud of himself.
And completely unaware that that day, returning to his room, Ivan broke down and cried all night on Luca's shoulder, while Luca stared at the wall in front of him with glazed eyes and a gray face.
`.' -----✈
Till opens the door, trying not to make noise, because the lights in the apartment are off, and he's only surprised for a moment because usually Ivan doesn't go to bed so early. Yes, he follows a regimen to always look good, fresh, and rested—it's just part of their job. Till isn't too worried, takes off his shoes and outerwear, and heads to the kitchen with the large bags, feeling a little less tired and a little more cheerful than usual. Lately, he's been missing work a bit, but he himself insisted on taking a break, and for now, the guys are doing great without him. The united groups CRAVÉ and AXIS have something to show the world.
About six months ago, Till insisted that he and Ivan move in together, and even bought them a separate apartment in the center of Seoul, not far from the former idol dormitory. That way, they wouldn't have to break away too much from their comrades and the process—but the truth was, almost immediately after Ivan, looking embarrassed and anxious, agreed, Till announced a hiatus. He didn't fully understand why he did it himself—maybe understanding that they wouldn't be allowed to be together properly while both were working in bands. Actually, he didn't ask Ivan to do the same, but he did—right after Till, he said he also wanted an indefinite leave. One should have seen the scandal that erupted over this news—the producer raged and fumed, but most of all, Luca seemed to disagree, who almost beat up his former friend, so Till had to punch him a couple of times where the body is usually hidden under clothes. Fearing that the insane Till might damage Luca's magazine face, the producers cooled down and separated them, taking them to different corners. Ivan stood aside all this time, pale as death, and seemed truly shocked by the reaction of his comrades, especially his best friend, with whom relations had become strained after Till's confession and Ivan's agreement to date him. Till looked at Luca and saw only fierce hatred in his eyes and sincerely didn't understand why. Wasn't it Luca who told him about Ivan's feelings? Didn't he want them to start dating more than anyone and for his friend to be okay? Then what the hell was going on in this guy's head?..
And now they were together, Ivan, it seemed, was happy and quite satisfied with life, especially now that he didn't have to work to the bone and constantly smile for the cameras. Till made sure he ate well, slept enough, and had pleasure in bed—despite the fact that they had taken a small break, the reasons for which Ivan didn't elaborate on, and Till didn't ask, patiently waiting for his boyfriend to be ready again. And as soon as Ivan came to his bed—Till swore he would love this man so much that he would have no doubts about Till's interest. Because Ivan's body was perfect, and he never stopped repeating it, especially when Ivan returned to his favorite habit of dressing up for the camera image—and now, when there were no cameras, he dressed up for Till, though he didn't do it as often. Lately, to be honest, Ivan had been letting himself go more and more—he walked around in Till's stretched-out T-shirts, baggy hoodies, and sweatpants, even when he went outside, whereas before he would dress up to go buy a carton of milk at the grocery store near home.
Till quietly watched Ivan melancholically wandering around the spacious apartment, who almost never went out, didn't talk to anyone, and did nothing. All day during his "vacation," he lay on the sofa in the living room, scrolling through his Instagram feed, watching Mizi and the others' lives through photos. Till assumed that Ivan just wasn't used to resting and now didn't know what to do with himself, so he persistently tried to pull him out of his melancholy, every evening suggesting they watch a movie on the projector, cook something together, or go somewhere. Ivan responded listlessly but agreed to the first two, but flatly refused the third.
In fact, during the time they had been dating and living together, Ivan only went out once to meet friends—he said Mizi and Luca wanted to see him because, obviously, they hadn't seen each other in a long time. Till then smiled joyfully, kissed him goodbye, and told him not to stay out too late.
In the end, Ivan didn't return that night. And in the morning, Luca brought him back, dying of a hangover, and looked at Till exactly the same way he had when Ivan announced their relationship and his leave.
Till, if he was surprised, didn't ask Luca what had happened, because it was all clear: a friendly get-together, as often happens, turned into a drinking session, and Luca was kind enough to take care of his boyfriend and bring him home. Till just politely smiled gratefully and asked if Luca wanted to come in for a cup of tea and wait for Ivan to wake up—because Luca had to drag his unconscious body by himself. Luca didn't answer then—just measured him with an unreadable, fierce look and left, quietly slamming the door. Till snorted puzzledly at this action, carried Ivan to bed, and started brewing him a herbal decoction for his hangover, humming a somewhat melancholic tune from the new song by the AXIS guys that had come out this week.
He knew the situation was under control, not bothering Ivan with messages or calls when he didn't return at night. After all, Ivan had wonderful friends who would take care of him when Till wasn't around.
And now he stands on the threshold of the kitchen, squinting and getting used to the darkness, puts the bags of food on the floor near the table, and only then turns on the light.
And almost recoils, grabbing his heart, when he sees Ivan slumped on a stool by the breakfast bar, fully dressed.
"What the— Ivan!" Till exclaims, exhaling deeply with relief. "You scared me," he says, looking at his boyfriend curiously and taking a step towards him. "Why were you sitting here in complete darkness? And why are you... dressed, it's night, are you going somewhere?"
Ivan doesn't answer for a long time, still bowing his head low and not looking at him, and fiddling with something small in his hands that Till can't make out.
"Till," Ivan finally says, and his voice is terribly hoarse, as if he'd torn it. Till doesn't understand why. He wants to ask if everything is okay, but then, as if gathering his courage, Ivan stands up and, throwing only a fleeting glance at the guy—in which Till fancies something hunted and empty—hands him the object he was clutching.
Till stares dumbly for a while at the white plastic stick in his fingers, and only then does it dawn on him that it's a pregnancy test.
With two lines. Positive.
For long seconds, silence reigns in the kitchen, and then Till suddenly says in a strained voice:
"Ivan..."
"I'm pregnant."
Till's eyes glaze over, and then he blinks, coming to his senses. His lips stretch into a tense smile, and he doesn't notice how Ivan's face contorts slightly in pain.
"That's amazing," Till says as if automatically, as if he had learned the phrase in advance. "That's so great, Ivan, I'm so happy, we're going to have a..."
"It's Luca's child," Ivan blurts out sharply and looks at his face with even more despair, and then, as if finding something there... wrong, something he doesn't like—rushes forward, pushing Till aside with his shoulder to get out of the way.
He grabs a pre-prepared small bag from the hallway, which Till hadn't noticed in the dark, and is about to fly out of the apartment—but runs into the fact that Till had bolted the door. He has to spend time opening it—and that's enough to feel himself being grabbed from behind by the waist, and then his wrists are squeezed, tearing them away just as Ivan manages to deal with the lock.
"What did you say, baby?" Till purrs gently into his ear, causing a cold sweat to break out on Ivan's back. "Is this some kind of joke, huh? You and Luca decided to play a trick on me? You're talking to them again, right, even though we're on a break and there's no need for it—you're still talking to them, otherwise why would you go to that meeting. They made you do it, admit it—otherwise you would never have left the apartment because you're fine here—I did everything to make you comfortable here and for you not to need anything, didn't I, my princess?"
"Till..." the tall guy gasps constrainedly, feeling the hands on his waist tighten harder, to the point of pain, and then Till's deliberately affectionate palm slowly, like a snake, crawls up his chest and gently rests on his throat. Ivan is shaking from unidentified but strong emotions. He seems scared, but he can't believe Till would hurt him.
"Yes, my sweet cherry?" Till chirps, tenderly and yet insistently pressing against his ear and slightly biting the skin behind it. Does Ivan imagine it, or is Till shaking too? "Do you want to say something? Do you want to apologize for the bad joke? Because the joke really turned out bad, bunny." Now, growling notes are clearly slipping into his voice, and Ivan tries to breathe in and out deeply to pull himself together. He senses danger—and it's *real*, here and now. He has to solve this problem. Till, meanwhile, continues, smoothly moving his lips down his neck, his tone getting lower with every word. "Is that why you've been so cold with me lately?" he says with feigned offense. "Because those two told you something when you met, and now for some reason you're avoiding me, not even letting me properly touch this delightful body?" At these words, Ivan gasps silently when a cold, foreign hand slips under the belt of his jeans and pulls. Everything inside Ivan turns cold at the thought that Till wants to do it here, now, in such a situation—before, he only allowed hands in his pants when they were in bed, or at least on the sofa, and not in street clothes, for fuck's sake—and it scares him. It scares Ivan to death, although he is more than sure he can fight back.
Which he does.
A lump gets stuck in his throat, and he can't say anything in his defense, or ask Till something like "what are you doing?!"—nothing. He just gathers all his strength, his thoughts into a pile—and pushes Till away from himself.
Till, by inertia, takes three whole steps back and looks at Ivan as if he can't believe it. Ivan's heart clenches. He's being looked at like a traitor. In the widened green eyes, a sea of unspoken emotions splashes as Till looks at Ivan, at his pale face, clenched fists, and trembling lips—and finally becomes convinced that he wasn't joking.
Ivan said he was expecting a child.
Luca's child.
The brunette manages to fly out of the apartment and slam the door, instantly turning the key, knowing that Till can get out if he does the same from the other side. He grabs the bag more comfortably and rushes down as fast as he can, to the taxi waiting for him for half an hour downstairs by the back exit—he knew he wouldn't be able to handle it, that it would be easier for him to run away like a coward.
Ivan could have done it without extra drama and *danger*—just pack his things and leave, and then text Till in the chat—as Luca had advised. But Ivan couldn't do that. He couldn't talk about *something like this* in messages. He needed to confess, looking Till in the eyes, and get his reaction.
A reaction that, to be honest, Ivan hadn't expected.
He thought Till would yell at him, call him names—but not that he would grab him from behind right on the doorstep, not letting him leave, and try to—what? Rape him?—well, do something by force.
Ivan could have hit Till, could have knocked him out, because he was still slightly, but taller and stronger—but could he have done it?
No. Definitely not. No matter how hard it was for Ivan now, he had once been head over heels in love with this person and wasn't sure he had fallen out of love now. Or rather, not like that—he was *sure* he hadn't fallen out of love. It's just...
After a year of their relationship, Ivan realized he was only deceiving himself and Till. That Till was with him out of pity, that he was pretending to love and care, that Ivan for him was like some doll, a prize won in a lottery, for which Till hadn't even fought. Ivan was beautiful and good in bed, he knew that—and Till liked it. And now he had practically locked him in their apartment, like some trophy he didn't even want to show off to the world. Ivan didn't meet with his friends and didn't go out without special necessity only because, after a while, watching Till's reaction, he realized that Till didn't like it. Till was always offended, even if he pretended everything was fine. He was truly happy only when Ivan sat at home, cooked, and slept with him.
And no—Ivan wasn't devaluing Till's feelings now, this guy really cared for him. He learned Ivan's favorite diet, his favorite music, hobbies, bought him clothes, and cooked for him or with him his favorite food.
But did that mean Till loved Ivan?
Or was he just boosting his own ego, doing a favor and feeling like a hero who saved a victim of unrequited love from...
From something Ivan didn't do.
No matter what the producers and psychotherapists said, that day Ivan did not try to kill himself. He really just overdid the dosage of painkillers a bit—and the whole damn show business world decided he was some snotty girl who would run to cut herself over unrequited love.
Hell no, he would want to die of his own free will! He still had Luca, who had been by his side his whole life and cared for him, and who definitely wouldn't be thrilled if Ivan died. He still had the wonderful Mizi, who did so much for their group and whom he simply had no right to let down because of his own problems that weren't worth a damn. So Till didn't love him—so what? Ivan, in essence, was to blame himself for falling in love and suffering—no one else was involved, but he couldn't even blame Luca, who ultimately told Till about these feelings—because Ivan knew his friend only wanted the best for him.
And for everyone, this "best" had really come. Ivan finally got what he had wanted for many years—or had he wanted it? Or did he just like having an idol, like an ordinary person fanboying over idols? After all, all legends need their own legends to inspire and motivate them to achieve.
And in the end, everyone—this whole crazy world—decided for him.
Ivan pressed the bag closer to his chest and, making sure the driver wasn't paying attention to him, slowly, as if afraid, lowered his palm to his stomach.
Did he want this child? Ivan didn't know.
All he knew was how much he had wanted what happened between him and Luca that night. How desperately he needed it, never noticing his own feelings.
Either that, or he just wanted to escape from the cage built around him by Till's "care" for a while.
Ivan thinks he can figure it out later.