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Acts of Service
Sweat dripped down Till’s face in rivulets and soaked his back, binding his jersey to his skin. The stadium smelled sharp with musk and whatever the janitor used to clean the court as Till’s eyes flicked rapidly from the ball in the air to the clock. He ran forward, sneakers skidding on the floor, towards the opponents hoop. His lithe frame was perfect for weaving in between the opposing teams players. Once he got close enough he whipped his head back trying to find the ball again.
“Till!” Was the only warning he got before the orange sphere was sent ricocheting toward him at full speed. He caught it in his palms and whipped around, dribbling it once before gathering all the strength he had left.
Before the teams previously trying to prevent the pass could turn around his quads were already bound knot tight in a squat. Before the opposing players could shout out to stop him he felt the power he built up push through his knees. Before anyone could get to him his feet were already off the floor.
The net swished as the ball went through it and Till could barely hear the roar of the crowd over the heartbeat in his ears.
It was much much later when Till was able to return to his apartment. After a close game and the high of the win and subsequent hours of celebration with his team mates the adrenaline had finally worn down. His muscles were sore, his eyes felt heavy, and his thoughts came dripping in slow as syrup. Slow as they came his thoughts still felt it appropriate to remind him that dinner still needed to be cooked and he still desperately needed a shower.
“Ivan? Can we order out?” He yelled into the apartment once he willed his arm to lift and turn the knob. As he toed his shoes off and shrugged off the light jacket he threw over his jersey he faintly registered the soft clanking of dishes in the sink. Till whipped his head up and breathed deep and over the rank smell surely coming from him there was the comforting smell of curry.
Trudging into the kitchen he spotted his lovely boyfriend was standing over their sink. The stupid pink dishwashing gloves he got him as a gag gift were gripping a bowl in one hand and a soapy sponge in the other. His black sweatpants were stained with white powder, flour, which, combined with the curry, could only mean… The floured, breaded, and beautiful chicken katsu laid on a cutting board next to the burbling pot on the stove. They were clearly only removed from whatever pan they were cooked in just before Ivan started on the dishes. He loved this man so much. Till stepped in close behind Ivan, sliding his cold hands from the brisk air outside up and under his sleep shirt.
“Mmph?! Till??” Ivan jolted, nearly dropping the bowl as cold fingertips met the warm heat of his boyfriend’s v-line. His boyfriend, his boyfriend, his his his. Before he could nuzzle deeper into the space between Ivan’s shoulder blades he had put down both the bowl and sponge before hastily removing his dish gloves. He spun around, greeting him with a peck on the forehead.
“Eugh, salty” Ivan said, his tongue sticking out and catching on his snaggletooth. His hands moved to Till’s forearms gently pushing them out from the encompassing warmth under his shirt. “You are cold, and sweaty, did you want to take a hot shower before dinner? I can keep it warm on the stove.” Ivan purred, eyes twinkling like stars. Till frowned, he was tired and heavy and just wanted to stay right here in the domestic warmth of their kitchen. He could probably fall asleep in Ivan’s arms just like this.
“No. You’re warm enough and I am hungry as hell.” He grumbled, leaning forward again into Ivan as his hands went further up, trailing across the expanse of his back. “Also I thought you said you liked me even when I’m gross”
“I never said gross, I said sweaty, I’m thinking about your comfort dear…” Dear, Till could die happy. Ivan’s mouth was back to his forehead but this time a hot tongue lathed over every inch of exposed skin. He could die happy after he punched this guy.
“Oh my god you freak” His head tilted back away from the perpetrator but his feet stayed in place, a testament to his exhaustion. This was only met by a light chuckle and gentle hands guiding him out of his embrace and to a nearby seat in their kitchen. Till watched his boyfriend walk away and load bowls with rice and curry before chopping up the still warm katsu and placing them picture perfect on the top of the mouth watering meals. The lingering warmth of hands, the scrape of soft fabric underneath Ivan’s arms and legs as he moved through the kitchen, the soft light of the moon outside coating their quiet home in its comforting light. Never in a million years had he felt so lucky.
The bowls thudded softly on the table in front of him as Ivan finally returned to his side. As they ate Ivan rambled about his day, how he watched Till from the nosebleeds from behind a mask and a cap, lamenting about how his fame prevented him from being close enough for Till to hear. The savory flavor of the curry was interspersed with warm spices. It lit a small fire in his stomach, with every bit he felt like he was swallowing molten gold. The katsu skin was flaky and crunchy under his teeth, giving way to tender juicy flesh, a far cry from Ivan’s first attempt. He felt his smile grow, remembering chicken as black as his lover’s hair. Till had screamed at him for ruining his kitchen and didn’t talk to him all day at school after.
After the bowls were cleared they stood side by side above the sink, Ivan washing each dish and then passing them to Till to dry. Their shoulders bumped every now and then. A snarky remark from Till was met with a flick of water from Ivan… which then resulted in Till’s hands shooting up into his shirt to attack his ribs with light tickles that made Ivan almost break the dish in his hand. Once done Till leaned into Ivan’s shoulder, full and still aching from the day he just wanted a rest. Ivan hummed and strained his neck to kiss the crown of Till’s head.
“Shower?” Ivan rumbled, his fingers stretching over Till’s lower back.
“Mm, can’t I just, in the morning?” Ivan’s thumb absent mindedly traced circled along one of the knobs of his spine.
“What if I helped you?” Till raised his hand, swatting at him with eyes still closed, his hand landing somewhere on Ivan’s chest.
“Pervert.” he admonished before giving a nod into Ivan’s arm.
In the bathroom Ivan helped Till out of his sports uniform while the water ran and warmed up. He gently pushed Till under the stream before moving to remove his own clothes. At some point Ivan joined behind him reaching up and letting water pool into his cupped palms so he could wet his own hair. Till let the steaming water wash away the grime on his skin and the heat relax his muscles while Ivan worked his own scalp with shampoo. A tap on his shoulder signaled for them to switch places and Till stepped aside and opened his eyes for the first time since they got in. Ivan’s head was tilted back and the soapy bubbles ran down his neck before he looked down at Till and smiled.
“Turn around” Ivan mumbled, reaching over to the shampoo bottle on the right. Till grumbled but turned and felt the cold plop of shampoo on the top of his hair before Ivan’s deft fingers joined it. Ivan massaged his scalp and turned Till into a malleable putty beneath him, scratching his scalp occasionally with blunt fingernails. After Till was briefly put under the stream once more (a considerate hand guarding his eyes from soap) Till felt a washcloth foamy with soap start to work across his bicep. Ivan scrubbed and massaged his limbs and Till sighed letting Ivan work the salt off his body and massage some of the knots from his tensed form. Ivan turned off the tap and quickly patted himself dry before handing a clean towel to Till and leaving him in the bathroom alone after a peck on the cheek. Till rubbed the towel across his arms first, just starting to dry his legs off when Ivan returned with neatly folded clothes for them to change into. Ivan pushed down on Till’s shoulders until he was sitting on the toilet seat and used the towel to rub the silver hair semi-dry. Pulling on the loose pajama pants Ivan had picked out for him Till realized they were still warm. He tugged on the shirt next and lifted up the collar to his nose to inhale the light lilac sent left behind from the detergent Ivan picked out.
Till could barely keep his eyes open now. Ivan guided him gently to their room and tucked them both underneath the comforter of their bed, immediately offering up his arm as an additional pillow. Till nuzzled close, fed, bathed, warm, and ready to finally let the sleep insistently tugging at his brain take him.
“How did you even time it all perfect?” His voice was muffled by the shirt he had shoved his face into. Ivan hummed, draping his other arm around Till’s waist.
“I have your location, baby.”
“Oh. Right” Till yawned, making a note to make fun of Ivan for his possessiveness in the morning.
Gift Giving
“Here for you.” Ivan looked up from his phone to Till’s outstretched hand, a small fluffy thing attached to a chain in the middle of his palm. Ivan plucked it from him and pushed himself upright on the couch.
“A bunny?” It was… honestly kind of ugly. Its fur was ruffled and out of place from where it had obviously spent some time in Till’s pocket and the eyes were droopy and asymmetrical. With the amount of gag gifts Till had got him in the past Ivan hesitated with his reaction in lieu of trying to draw out further explanation.
“Yeah, for your keychain. I got it at that fair I went to with Mizi cause it looked like you.” It was beautiful and would become a family heirloom.
“Aww, Till my darling. I’ll keep it safe until the sun explodes, no even after that” He was already off the couch and moving towards a retreating Till. He really brought this upon himself being so sweet and thoughtful. Even before the start of their official relationship (which Ivan still can’t believe is entirely real) Till would also show his care in subtler ways like this.
When they were still in high school and Ivan (totally not on purpose) kept forgetting pencils and erasers, essentially bumming off Till for the better part of a month he received his first gift. A pencil case, already heavy enough with pens and pencils to hurt, landed itself square in his face when he next asked for a pencil.
‘Don’t you dare lose it, and stop asking me for shit now that you have your own asshole!’ he had hissed at Ivan before storming away, leaving Ivan with a small trickle of blood dripping from his nostril and an awestruck look. As Ivan wormed his way under Till’s skin, trying to lay claim to some small place in his heart he started to notice small changes.
His backpack, one plain and black was replaced with a light grey satchel with brown accents because ‘You’re always slinging your bag over one shoulder asshole, just use a bag that's made for that.’ His neat and organized desk now had a dedicated corner for sweets Till put there when he thought he wasn’t looking. Even when they graduated and started working hard to progress in their respective sports. His first pair of professional skates were gifts from Till as a congratulatory present for being recruited by a top coach. Once he had pretended to warm his hands vigorously after getting off the ice in an attempt to get Till to hold them. The handwarmers he finds in his bag to this day were a good enough substitute.
Even without being materialistic Ivan’s heart burned at the amount of tangible proof that Till thought of him, and continued to think of him. He had pressed the flowers of the first bouquet Till had given him, common wildflowers he picked from the bank of the river near where he practiced with his team. Ivan had binders and binders full of drawings Till had made for him, of him, or just doodled on the side of his notes to pass the time during class.
Back to the present Ivan pounced on Till, pinning the other’s arms to his sides in a tight hug while peppering his face in kisses. Till thrashed in his arms, screaming profanities but failing terribly to hide the way the corners of his mouth twitched up, resisting a smile. Ivan continued his relentless attack until Till broke into breathy high pitched giggles. Ivan stopped to admire the sight and sound. Till always closed his eyes and threw his head back to laugh, his wide open smile stretched across his face. His giggles came in aborted breaths and an occasionally loud bout of laughter would be punctuated with a short hiccup of breath. His cheeks were dusted pink and looked beautiful against the sharp teal of his eyes once he blinked them back open.
“Thank you for the gift dear” Ivan placed one last peck to the rose kissed cheek before moving to their keychains hanging near the door. As Ivan added the bunny to the loop he noted how heavy it had become, Till’s trinkets over the years all next to each other, none more loved than the rest. Ivan offhandedly thought about the damage this must be causing to his poor car's ignition. Oh well, a small price to pay for Till’s love.
Words of Affirmation
“Till?”
Till heaved a big sigh, struggling to open their apartment while trying to support half a drunk Ivan's weight on his shoulder. “Yes Ivan?”
“I really really love you” Well he’d sure hope so. A familiar wetness started to make itself known on the crook of his neck where Ivan’s chin rested. The first time Ivan cried from ‘too much love’ it had been when Till confessed. He then proceeded to freak the fuck out thinking he had either totally missed the mark and misread Ivan’s (blaring and impossible to miss) signals or had accidentally cursed his entire bloodline out and just thought he said I love you. Now Till just hummed and carded fingers through his lover's hair, finally getting the door open.
“I know, I know. I love you too, you big asshole. Now can you try and carry some of your own weight to the bed?” Till kicked off his shoes and tested moving away from Ivan who did stay back and take off his own shoes, albeit pouting.
“Why?” Came a voice, barely above a whisper. Ivan did get even more sappy when drunk but more in a sad way. With almost 5 years of pining under his belt before Till realized that having the most comfortable place to fall asleep be your best friend’s arms was not very platonic, Ivan had a tendency to be insecure. Whenever this happened Till had learned the best way to reassure Ivan was to swallow his own embarrassment and indulge him.
“Well I love your thoughtfulness,” Till started, over the years this got less embarrassing and more cathartic. “You always seem to know exactly when and what I want, it's creepy but lovable. I love how you know me as much as myself, maybe more.” Till took Ivan’s hands walking backwards toward their bedroom.
“I love how confident you are, on the ice you look like you were born there, you deal with the public way better than I ever could.” The door creaked open at the push of Till’s back from where it had laid ajar.
“I love your stupidly soft hair, how nice it looks straight and swept back when you perform but also how it's a little wavy when you let it air dry after a shower.”
“I love your smile, your real one, when you find a book you like or you eat something sweet. Oh and I love how cute it is that you have such a sweet tooth” Till handed Ivan a pair of comfortable pants to replace the jeans he had the genius idea of wearing out to the bar despite knowing he was a lightweight and Luka’s evil ass would find some way to get him wasted.
“I love your cute little snaggletooth and how obvious it makes it when you're frustrated and bite down a little on your poor lips.” Till placed a quick peck to Ivan's lips as a reward for getting changed on his own given how drunk he was. “And I love your lips, obviously.”
“I love how you look on the ice in your costumes. I love how you look when you're napping on the couch after reading and you forget to take your glasses off. I love how you look in the morning with your bedhead.” Ivan’s cheeks felt blazing hot in his hands when he cupped his cheeks. “And I love how you look when you blush, It’s nice that your cheeks get all red when you drink so I get to enjoy it longer.”
“I love you.” A peck on his right cheek.
“I love you.” A peck on his left cheek.
“I love you.” A peck on the tip of his nose.
Ivan sighed and smiled giddily, positively preening at the attention. Insecurity washed away word by word in the face of their relationship which felt bound by the stars. Till bumped their foreheads together and let out a soft laugh at how dopey he looked. He was reduced to a puddle by a few statements he already knew to be true.
“Hmm, ‘ou’re gonna be mad at mee” Ivan slurred while kicking his feet from where he sat on the edge of the bed. Till froze, a chill running up his spine broke the warm cozy atmosphere he found himself building with soft honeyed words. Till moved his hands and gripped Ivan’s shoulders and shook him slightly. He really should be glad Ivan is a sappy, but honest drunk, whatever he did he needed to spit it out now.
“What? Why? What did you do? How could you have done something I literally have been watching you the entire day?” Till poked and prodded, anxiety and annoyance blooming in his stomach and raising bumps on his skin. Ivan simply hummed and flopped back onto the bed, almost taking Till with him.
“I meant why did I have to carry myself here, but it’s nice to hear you love me that much.”
What.
What?
Ivan had merely been whining because Till was tired from dragging him from the car and supporting him in the elevator. He had every opportunity to correct Till, stop his embarrassing rant meant to soothe the nerves of a vulnerable Ivan. But no. Ivan took advantage of this misunderstanding and basked in the waterfall of words Till had painstakingly picked out for the next time he became insecure and then had the audacity to poke fun at him after the fact. Till’s chest started to heave up and down in preparation of the fury he was about to unleash and Ivan’s eyes and smile widened in the sick excitement he got from riling the other up.
Till launched himself onto the bed where Ivan caught him and wrestled for dominance. They tossed and turned flipping each other over while getting tangled in sheets before they just laid down side by side breathless and red faced. Till gave one last rap of knuckles against Ivan's cheek before laying his hand there. He loved how Ivan looked like this too, like he was seeing the sun for the first time. He wasn’t sure what the other man saw in him but he’d keep doing whatever he was doing if that meant Ivan would keep beaming until the corners of his mouth twitched from strain.
“Shameless bastard” Till admonished, shaking his head. Ivan chuckled light and airy like he always did alone in this room with Till. Like he was holding a secret and a word too loud would spoil it forever.
“A shameless bastard you love” Ivan drawled that last word, his eyes fluttering closed. Till pinched his cheek and stretched it, revealing the other teeth surrounding his snaggletooth before letting it snap back into place.
“Yeah, a bastard I love.”
Quality Time
A soft click of the front door announced Till’s arrival home. Ivan looked up from the book he was reading and snapped it shut to go greet his darling like the good house wife he was. Till looked ragged, his team had to do a set of interviews today and Till was well… Till was a PR nightmare. He was a monster on the court, making up for his height (not short but definitely not the average of his peers) with quick thinking, jumping power, and aggressive play style. He was also a monster to deal with when facing unwanted questions and cameras in his face. Once when walking to an interview one of the paparazzi outside screamed at Till to look and had to be ushered away as Till launched over the railings in place to keep them out.
“Hey baby, rough day?” Till just grunted and leaned his head insistently closer. Ivan could never say no to him and planted a soft kiss to the crown of his head. Satisfied Till made his way further into the apartment with Ivan trailing on his heels like a puppy dog. Till crumpled onto the couch, collapsing like a puppet whose strings were cut. Ivan chuckled and started making his way into the kitchen to grab a snack or two for Till before a hand yanked on the hem of his sweater. Till peered up at him through tired eyes, somehow he felt like apologizing.
“Watch a movie with me.” He commanded, and god did Ivan like it when he did that. No niceties, no reading between the lines, just Till wanting him and to spend time with him. Ivan grinned and reached over to hand Till the remote abandoned on the coffee table.
“Here, pick something out, I’ll make us tea.” Ivan started heading into the kitchen and filled the kettle with water, the soft murmurs of movie trailers in the background. He came back with the steaming cups and handed Till his bitter earl grey, steeped a little longer than necessary to give it the strong flavor he liked. Ivan never understood it, globs of honey still dissolving at the bottom of his cup.
Ivan set his cup down briefly and unfolded the blanket draped over the back of the couch and spread it over the two of their laps. Ivan settled in, wrapping his hands around the warm mug and moving closer to his beloved boyfriend. Till leaned into his shoulder and hit play on the crappy intense action movie he had picked out. God did Till have bad taste in movies, but he loved him all the more for it.
As it played Till finished his tea fairly quickly, placing the mug down. He definitely finished sooner than Ivan due to the fact he barely had time to drink around his sardonic commentary of the film. On the surface Ivan always tried to be polite, graceful, elegant. His public image as a figure skater was important, and he had to remain poised.
Not with Till though, never with Till. Here, tucked away and safe he was allowed to be annoying, clingy, selfish and blunt. So like the proper bastard he is, his criticisms for Till’s movie choices flow steady and unrelenting. Ivan was half convinced he picked out bad movies on purpose to hear him talk. He’d be more convinced if 6/10 times Till didn’t argue back with the same fervor. By the time he gets to the bottom of his cup the tea has gone cold so he swallows the rest in one fell swoop. Till perks up when he sets down his mug and lies backward onto the couch, his arms outstretched.
“Till I’ll crush you” He chuckled. Till was by no means frail, his arms and legs (especially his legs) were corded with muscle. But with Ivan being equally athletic and definitely taller he weighed quite a bit more.
“Kind of the point” Till huffed and kept his arms stubbornly outstretched. Ivan rolled his eyes and placed his reading glasses next to their empty cups on the coffee table. He dragged the blanket over them as he settled comfortably on Tills chest. Till heart beat loud and steady against his ear as he kept his face turned towards the TV. It always brought him a strange sort of comfort being like this, the heat of his skin, feeling every breath taken and pump of blood through his system.
The movie droned on but Ivan wasn’t paying much attention now. Tills' hands drawing random shapes along the contours of his ribs under the warmth of the blanket was too great a gift to ignore. Ivan sighed, melting more into Till, if humans were capable of purring he was sure he’d be shaking the apartment by now with the force of their vibrations.
The movie came to a close but they both stayed in each other’s embrace as the credits rolled and trailers for the next recommended hot garbage came up. Ivan hummed and propped his chin in between Till’s pecs to catch his gaze.
“Another one?” Till pondered the question before shrugging.
“Maybe in the background. Kinda just want to lay here with you and complain about those dumb interviews.” Till sighed, clicking on the first recommended movie to pop up. He then turned back, running his hands up every dip in Ivan’s sides making him shiver. Those hands, fingertips chipped with black nail polish from when Ivan had tried to paint them on a whim a week ago, peeked out from the covers and settled in Ivan’s hair.
“So, these assholes had me up at 5 this morning to prepare for an interview at 7. Who in their right mind wants to interview a bunch of cranky athletes at the crack of dawn? So I’m trying to get a coffee without people recognizing me but this girl spills her drink…” Till rambles on and on about his day. Ivan listens intently he really does, but he’s a great multitasker. While Till prattles on about getting splashed and recognized in a coffee shop and then subsequently chased to the hall where the interviews were held without so much as a drop of espresso, Ivan reminisced.
There was a time where he truly believed high school graduation would be the last he’d ever see of the silver hair beauty. He’d loved him since he first had a class with him in freshman year, loved him still even when he had to hear about his pathetic crush on his sister’s girlfriend. Till was confident and proud and drew people in like a rip current. He never had thought Till would suggest they share an apartment after school ended and they pursued their athletic career. God what would have happened if Till hadn’t taken the reins from him and provided this safe haven where their love was realized and then built.
Ivan leaned his head further into the hand twirling the hairs on the nape of his neck into curls. He was so so lucky.
Physical Touch
The golden morning light streaming in through the gaps in the curtains kissed the contours of Ivan’s face as he rested. Till had woken up first on this lazy Saturday morning, greeted with the rare sight of still snoring Ivan as a reward. His black hair, tousled from his overactive dreaming, poked out every which way and spilled haphazardly into the soft cushion of their pillows.
Till reached over and brushed a strand away from Ivan’s eyes. Ever the light sleeper he both scrunched his eyes in distaste at being woken and followed Till’s touch like a dying man in search of salvation.
“Morning” Till laughed as Ivan slowly blinked awake. It was equal parts hilarious and stupidly heartwarming how fast his eyes softened when dark eyes met teal.
“Why are you so far away?” Which was a ludicrous statement to make considering they were less than an arms length away with Till’s hand still resting on the patch of hair he had fixed.
“I’m not, idiot.” But regardless Ivan grabbed Till and pulled him closer still. They were now chest to chest, Ivan’s arms curled around his back and nose stuffed into his hair. Ivan reached with his foot and wrapped both legs around one of Till’s now entangled like an octopus.
“That's better” Ivan sighed out, already rubbing those calming circles in between his shoulder blades like if he dug deep enough he’d be able to reach into Till’s chest cavity and grasp his heart directly. Till was sure Ivan would crawl under his skin if he could.
“C’mon you big lug, I’ve been up for a bit and I’m hungry.” Till shoved at Ivan’s shoulder, only causing their tangle of limbs to tighten.
“Nooo, five more minutes. Please? Pretty please?” Ivan begged, pulling away just enough to let Till see him drag his mouth into an exaggerated frown and blink his wide puppy eyes. Till huffed before nodding.
“Do what you want.” He grunted. Ivan cheered in glee before nestling deeper into their embrace. Till liked to give Ivan a hard time, a little payback for all the teasing he has to endure. Ultimately though he enjoyed this just as much as Ivan did. His boyfriend hung off him like a sickly Victorian child too weak to stand but his grounding weight was like a drug. Nobody warned him how addictive it would be once he stopped pushing the bastard off of him.
Back when they first got their apartment Ivan tried to distance himself. At first it was funny watching him have no clue what to do with his hands if they weren’t on Till. But it quickly got annoying when Ivan was all over him in public but suddenly a shy little school girl away from prying eyes.
He remembered caging the taller man in their kitchen and forcing the bastard to just hug him already. Breaking down Ivan’s walls was a lot harder than he thought but eventually cuddle sessions on their shared couch, fingers finding their home way too often on his head or shoulders, and the constant brush of their shoulders was back. It was a bit of a catalyst for Till when he realized how much he had craved it.
In the present their cuddle sessions took place in their shared bed. The orange yellow sunlight embracing two stars shooting along the sky in parallel lines, forever destined to walk side by side.
Till wondered, as sleep tugged at his eyelids, willing him into a slumber that would give Ivan far more time than the allotted five minutes. Did they find each other in every universe?
He gripped the back of Ivan’s sleep shirt and smiled into the crook of his shoulder.
Who was he kidding, of course they did.