Work Text:
The ghost of his touch follows Lovro in his dreams.
Even now, Lovro can still feel the chlorine in his eyes, its sting, and the blurriness yet undeniable figure floating in front of him. The figure swims towards him in his memories.
It’s hard to explain, but in that pool back then, it had felt like it was the only plane of existence that Lovro knew. The muffled sound that otherwise would’ve received more noise in his ears above, the slight tinge of blue that clouded his sight as he tried to squint through the liquid encompassing him, the feeling of never touching the ground and neither flying up to the sky, only simply flailing his limbs to keep himself steady so as to not go any deeper.
Lovro remembers it like this: Ivan, cupping his cheek, careful yet firm fingers ever so slightly brushing past his bruise, and holding him like an anchor. Ivan pressing against him, steady, lips interlocking like it was made to exactly fit. When Lovro pulled back, all he could see was Ivan, Ivan, Ivan.
He could close his eyes and still feel his touch like it’s happening at this instant, a memory colliding with the present, overlapping with the rest of the fractured pieces that exist within the time Lovro had felt like he could have Ivan to himself. The rooftop, the school, underground the tunnels. “I like you, Lovro.” Ivan said, staring at him through his dark lashes. He was breathtaking, a whirlwind from the start, one Lovro never wanted to pull away from.
For a foolish second, he had thought it was possible to have this between them forever. It’s horrible, fucked up, and it’s gross what they’re doing but it feels so good. Lovro can’t get enough of the zap of electricity he gets through his spine whenever Ivan holds his nape securely. The magnetic pull he felt the first time Ivan had pulled up to the red lipstick house party, and how he still continues to feel it afterwards, devastating aftershocks of the sudden earthquake that was Ivan. Resists the urge to kiss him deeper like he did with Ema, too terrified to see how much he’d chase more of it, instead opting for quick pecks. In the darkest hours of twilight, he wonders what it’d be like if he tugged Ivan closer, chests aligned together and hearts beating in sync. Hands roaming around.
Lovro’s skin itches whenever he thinks about how much he wants this, the wrongness crawling at the back of his mind like a persistent cockroach that’s stubborn to remind him of the consequences, of how much he has to lose if he goes any further.
If only his mind was easy to dissuade like that, then he would’ve been over him a long time ago. The wrongness simply isn’t enough.
Lovro craves more of it. The first time he’d spent in Ivan’s place, listening to ballads while smoking and eating bad bread combinations, had been one of the most perplexing things in Lovro’s life. Inexplicably, it was also the most he’d felt in a long time.
The pool hadn’t been an exception. It was the only thing that made sense, after a long time, in Lovro’s life.
He would’ve stayed there forever. God, why didn’t he? Why didn’t Ivan?
Who the fuck cared about some security guard kicking them off the property? Him and Ivan could’ve found another pool. Another pool to dive in, to do nothing, to just swim and sit and talk and go underwater to hold their breaths together until nothing else mattered but them, and only them.
Lovro lays motionless in Nora’s room, eyes up the ceiling. Thinks he can feel the chlorine sting behind his eyes like a phantom pain, even though it’s only been probably a week or so since then.
He reaches for his phone someplace in the bed, and opens up his messages, both in Instagram and personal chat, with Ivan. No new messages. Nothing in general.
have you gotten over that foul? Ivan
Lovro checks the time, around two A.M., and shoves his phone aside to the nearest flat surface. He closes his eyes and tries those breathing exercises his mom loves to show him, like it’s ever truly helped him before.
In his memories, the figure swims towards him, but in here, he turns away from him again.
Lovro can’t yell, and no matter how much he swims fast he can’t reach him. Right, because they’re underwater. No one can see them here, why is he pulling away? Please, come back. It’s just us two. I can’t catch up like this. Why did you tell Sonja? I’m sorry. Please. Silly Lovro, he remembers his mom saying throughout his childhood. Your heart was always too big for you.
The sentiment presses on him like a bruise, and Lovro frantically swims faster towards the retreating figure.
It’s no use, of course. He has to breathe eventually. Lovro closes his eyes and swims up the surface, gasping for air. He looks around, and he finds himself in the same pool area Ivan had led them to, but no one else is there.
Silly Lovro, his mom’s voice says.