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Vanessa's birthday party was exactly the kind of chaos Lovro and his friends usually thrived in: crowded, loud and too much perfume mixing with cigarette smoke drifting in from the balcony. But tonight, the noise only made everything inside Lovro's head feel sharper.
The apartment was overheated. There were fairy lights strung unevenly along the ceiling casting everything in a warm gold haze. The music thudded through the floorboards, the bass vibrating up through Lovro’s sneakers and into his chest.
He stood near the kitchen counter with one shoulder leaning against the cabinets, fingers wrapped loosely around a plastic cup he hadn’t taken a sip from in ten minutes. He told himself he wouldn’t look but he looked anyway.
Ivan was standing near the couch. Of course he was, and of course Sonja was next to him. He hadn’t ended things between them with a fight, there hadn’t even been the decency of an argument, just silence. Messages left sitting on delivered, calls that rang until they died out on their own, and then, a few days later, those random late-night texts sliding in.
hey.
can we meet?
i don't want to be with sonja.
She’s leaning into him slightly when she talks. Her hand rests on his arm like it belongs there. Ivan’s head tilts down to hear her over the music and he smiles at her.
This is stupid, he tells himself. You knew they were together. You knew what this was.
Lovro’s fingers tightened around the cup until the plastic crinkled loudly. He takes a sip but it tastes like nothing.
“Careful,” Jakov’s voice came from beside him. “You’re about to murder that drink.”
Lovro forced his grip to loosen. “I’m fine.”
Jakov didn’t even look convinced for half a second. He followed Lovro’s line of sight and then hummed softly.
“Ah.”
Lovro shifted his weight, crossing one ankle over the other, pretending his entire body wasn’t angled toward Ivan.
“He’s been blowing up my phone,” Lovro muttered with his eyes still locked across the room.
“Yeah?” Jakov asked. “And?”
“And nothing.” Lovro’s laugh was short and humorless. “He ghosts me for days. Then suddenly he ‘misses’ me.”
Across the room, Ivan laughed at something Sonja said, his head dipping slightly closer to hers so he could hear. The gesture was small and intimate, and worst of all, familiar. Lovro’s stomach twisted.
“You answered him?” Jakov asked.
“Eventually.” Lovro replied. “I told him I’m done being the backup plan.” The words had felt stronger when he typed them.
Ivan moved slightly, and for a split second his eyes scanned the room searching before landing on Lovro. His gaze lingered. It dipped briefly to Lovro’s mouth before snapping back to his eyes. And that look, that stupid, soft, almost regretful look, made anger flare up hot under Lovro’s ribs.
Don’t look at me like that.
Not when you’re still standing next to her.
Sonja said something, and Ivan looked away from Lovro to answer her. Just like that, that's all it took. Lovro felt something close to humiliation creep up his spine.
“He’s still with her,” Lovro said quietly, almost to himself.
Jakov didn’t reply right away. He studied Lovro instead, noticing the tight shoulders, the way his jaw kept flexing and the way his thumb tapped nervously against the side of the cup.
“You look like you’re about to either cry or start a fight,” Jakov said.
“I’m not doing either.”
“Mm.”
Lovro exhaled slowly, trying to calm down the buzzing in his chest. He rolled his shoulders back, lifted his chin slightly, fixing his posture to look unbothered.
If Ivan wanted him, he would break up with her. It was that simple.
“You know what’s funny?” Lovro said, voice low. “He keeps saying he wants to see me, but he hasn’t done a single thing to prove it.”
Jakov’s gaze flicked to Ivan again, thoughtful. “Maybe he needs a push.”
Lovro let out a quiet, bitter laugh. “I’m not chasing him.”
“I didn’t say chase.”
Jakov stepped closer, lowering his voice so it wouldn’t get swallowed by the music.
“You want him to feel it,” he said. “The way you’ve been feeling it.”
Lovro didn’t answer, because yes, he did. He wanted Ivan to understand what it felt like to stand in a room and feel invisible to the person who claimed to miss you.
Across the room, Ivan looked up again and
this time, when their eyes met, something in Ivan’s expression tightened, almost as if he’d just realized Lovro might actually slip away. For a short, dangerous second, power hummed through Lovro’s veins.
Jakov followed that look carefully, then he said, almost too casually:
“Kiss me.”
Lovro turned to him, shocked. “What?”
“Kiss me,” Jakov repeated like he was just suggesting they grab another drink. “If he won’t make a choice, give him a reason to.”
Lovro’s pulse spiked instantly. “That’s insane.”
Jakov lifted one shoulder. “So is ghosting someone and then texting them when you’re lonely.”
Lovro’s mouth opened, then closed again. Across the room, Sonja lifted her hand to straighten Ivan’s collar, her fingers grazing the side of his neck with an ease that suggested she’d done it a hundred times before. Ivan didn’t move away and that stillness landed heavier than anything else. Suddenly Lovro felt painfully aware of everything at once: the bass vibrating through the floor, the heat pressing in from every direction and the sharp line of Ivan’s side profile under the lights.
If Ivan wanted him, this would hurt, and if he didn’t, then Lovro would finally know.
Jakov stepped just a little closer, enough that they could hear each other better.
“Only if you want to,” Jakov added, softer now. “But stop letting him think you’ll always be there.”
“You think he’d care?” Lovro asks, hating how small his voice sounds.
Jakov’s expression softens just slightly.
“Who, Tomos? Oh, he’d care.”
He shouldn’t need this. If Ivan wanted him, he’d be with him. That’s the logical and mature answer.
“Fine,” Lovro says before he can talk himself out of it. His eyes flicker to Ivan one more time. Ivan isn’t looking, and so that decides it.
“Don’t make it obvious,” Lovro mutters.
Jakov smirks slightly. “I’m insulted.”
He leans in slowly enough that it’s unmistakable. His fingers tilt Lovro’s chin up just a bit, with his thumb resting near the corner of his mouth. Lovro’s heart is hammering so hard he’s afraid Jakov can feel it. Then their lips meet.
Jakov kisses him like he means it, firmly, just open enough to look intimate from the other side of the room. His hand slides from Lovro’s jaw to the back of his neck, curling his fingers into his hair. Lovro responds automatically. His hands move to Jakov’s chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt.
For half a second, the world goes quiet. Less than a year ago, this moment would have made Lovro's heart explode.
Then he remembers. Ivan.
Lovro’s eyes flicker open. And there he is, Ivan, frozen, completely still in the middle of the living room.
Sonja is saying something to him, he can't tell, maybe asking what’s wrong, but Ivan doesn’t look at her. He’s staring right at Lovro. His jaw is tight and his hand is clenched at his side like he doesn’t know what to do with it. Jealousy looks different on him than Lovro expected.
Jakov deepens the kiss just slightly, enough to make it undeniably real to anyone watching. His thumb brushes slowly along Lovro’s cheek. Music pulses through the apartment, bodies shifting and laughing around them.
He doesn’t look away from Ivan.
If you care, feel it. Ivan’s expression cracks,
it's subtle, but Lovro sees it in the way his composure slips. Sonja follows his gaze and her posture stiffens too.
When Jakov finally pulls back, he keeps his forehead close to Lovro’s, to make it seem more believeable. Lovro’s lips feel warm and wet.
“You good?” Jakov whispers again, barely audible.
“I need air,” he mutters.
He turns slightly, but the adrenaline finally crashes over Lovro. The kiss, the eye contact, the silence... it’s too much.
“I need the bathroom,” Lovro says abruptly, pulling away from Jakov.
Jakov studies him carefully, understanding flickering in his eyes. “Okay,” he says. “Go.”
Lovro sets his cup down blindly and pushes through the crowd, weaving past people who don’t notice the way his hands are shaking. He barely registers the hallway. He locks himself in a small bathroom, the bass now muffled through the walls. He grips the edge of the sink and stares at his reflection. His lips are flushed and his eyes are bright, almost glassy. He takes a deep breath in.
A knock hits the door.
Lovro’s breath skips, he doesn’t need to ask who it is.
“Lovro,” Ivan’s voice comes through the door, somewhere in between angry and calm.
His name sounds different through a door.
Lovro stares at himself in the mirror one more second and notices his chest rising too fast. Still, he unlocks the door before he can overthink it. Ivan steps inside immediately and shuts it behind him.
The bathroom suddenly feels too small. The air is thick with leftover steam and the bass from the party is vibrating faintly through the tiles. They’re standing less than a meter apart. For a second, neither of them speaks. Ivan’s eyes move first though, not to Lovro’s face but to his mouth. His jaw is tight, a muscle ticking on his neck and his hands are shoved into his pockets.
He lets out a short breath through his nose, almost disbelieving. “ So that’s what you’re doing now?”
“You don’t get to ask that,” Lovro says. “Not after you ignored me all this time.”
Ivan’s composure cracks slightly at that. “I didn’t ignore you.”
“You disappeared.”
“I needed time.”
“With her?” Lovro shoots back.
Ivan breathes out sharply, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “This isn’t about Sonja.”
Lovro laughs, this time real sharp. “It’s literally only about Sonja.”
The bathroom feels smaller by the second.
Ivan steps even closer now, enough that if one of them leans forward half an inch, it would count as something.
“You think I didn’t see the way you were looking at me?” Ivan asks, voice dropping lower. “While you were kissing him?”
“Oh, you were watching?” he says.
Ivan’s eyes darken. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“Act like you didn’t do that on purpose.”
Lovro pushes off the sink, standing straighter now with his chin lifted.
“Maybe I’m just moving on,” he says. “You don’t get to ghost me and then get all territorial.”
Ivan’s hand moves before he seems to realize it, gripping the edge of the sink beside Lovro’s hip, caging him in without fully touching him.
“Territorial?” Ivan repeats. “You were kissing him like-” He cuts himself off.
“Like what?” Lovro presses.
Ivan’s eyes flick to Lovro’s mouth again.
“Like you meant it.”
“Maybe I did.”
It’s a lie and Ivan can see right through it.
“So you’re punishing me,” Ivan says, looking down.
Lovro’s throat tightens. “I’m protecting myself.” The honesty surprises them both.
The bass from the party thumps harder for a moment, like the world outside is reminding them it still exists. Ivan’s voice lowers further.
“You think that didn’t kill me to watch?"
“You’re with her,” he says, almost helplessly. “What did you expect me to do? Sit around while you text me at 2 in the morning saying you miss me?”
Ivan flinches again. “I do miss you.”
“Then choose me.”
“You think it’s that simple?” Ivan asks.
“Yes.”
Lovro’s voice doesn’t shake this time. “Yes, it is. If you want me, break up with her. If you don’t, stop calling me.”
Ivan stares at him like he’s seeing him clearly for the first time tonight. “You don’t get to kiss someone else and then demand things from me,” Ivan says, conflicted.
“You don’t get to have both,” Lovro fires back. “You don’t get me in private and her in public.”
Ivan’s jaw tightens again, but this time it’s not anger. He has a wounded look in his eyes.
“You were looking at me,” Ivan says suddenly, quieter. “While you were kissing him.”
Lovro doesn’t deny it. Ivan steps even closer until there’s no space left.
“If you wanted me to feel something,” Ivan shoots, eyes dropping to Lovro’s lips again, “congratulations.”
“What did you feel?” Lovro asks, curious.
Ivan’s hand moves from the sink to the fabric of Lovro’s shirt, gripping it lightly.
“Jealous,” he admits, the word rolling roughly. “And angry. And-” He stops himself before he can finish.
“You don’t get to do that,” Ivan says, but his voice has roughened now.
“Do what?” Lovro challenges him, even though his pulse is everywhere.
“Kiss him like that. Look at me while you do it.”
There’s something raw in the way Ivan says it, something that makes Lovro’s anger flicker into something almost curious.
“So you were watching,” Lovro says, quieter now.
Ivan lets out a sharp breath that’s almost a laugh but not amused at all. “I couldn’t not watch.”
The confession vibrates through the small bathroom, through the tile, through Lovro’s bones.
“Then maybe you should’ve done something,” Lovro snaps. “Maybe you should’ve stopped me.”
Ivan’s eyes darken instantly. “You don’t belong to me.”
“Exactly,” Lovro shoots back. “So stop acting like I betrayed you.”
Ivan’s hand slides from Lovro’s shirt to his jaw in one abrupt motion. His fingers press firm against Lovro’s skin, tilting his face up.
“You think that didn’t feel like betrayal?” Ivan asks, his voice low and shaking. “Watching you with him?”
“You’re with her,” Lovro fires back immediately. “Every day, in public. In front of everyone.”
“This isn’t the same,” Ivan mutters.
“It is to me.”
The bass from the party pulses through the wall behind them, syncing with Lovro’s heartbeat. It feels electric.
“Say it,” Lovro whispers suddenly.
“Say what?”
“That you don’t care.”
Ivan’s jaw clenches. “Don’t.”
“Say it,” Lovro pushes, reckless now. “Tell me you didn’t care.”
Ivan's breath is hard and his eyes are burning with something he's been trying to hold in. He takes a step closer, and the air between them thickens. Lovro catches his breath before he even realizes he’s holding it and he parts his lips by just a fraction. Then, with a tilt of his head and a movement that’s both inevitable and deliberate, Ivan leans in.
His hand slides from Lovro’s jaw to the back of his neck in one swift motion, fingers threading into his hair. It tastes like frustration and swallowed pride all at once. Lovro makes a sound against Ivan’s mouth, something that sounds dangerously close to relief, and his hands fist in the front of Ivan’s jacket. Ivan kisses him like he’s proving a point. There’s urgency in it, a sharp edge of territorial anger that makes the music go silent. He’s trying to overwrite the memory of Jakov’s mouth on Lovro’s.
Lovro feels it. The jealousy.
It’s in the way Ivan’s grip tightens in his hair. In the way his thumb presses firmly at the base of his neck. In the way he refuses to let the kiss soften. And instead of pulling away, Lovro kisses him back just as fiercely.
Because if Ivan wants to feel it, then fine.
Feel it.
Lovro pushes forward slightly, meeting the force, his fingers sliding up into Ivan’s collar, tugging him closer. Their teeth clash for a second, in a messy and unplanned way, but neither of them slows down.
Ivan's right hand slides from Lovro’s shoulder down his side, gripping at his waist and pulling him against him, eliminating the last inch of space between them. The contact sends a jolt straight through Lovro’s spine.
When Ivan finally pulls back, it’s abrupt. Lovro feels his lips completely swollen and flushed.
“Don’t ever do that again,” he says, still gripping Lovro like he might disappear.
“Then don’t give me a reason to.”
Ivan’s expression flickers with both anger and desire.
“You think this fixes anything?” Ivan asks.
“No,” Lovro says immediately. He pushes gently against Ivan’s chest, enough to create space but not enough to break the connection completely. “No, it doesn’t.”
“I’m not doing this anymore,” he says, voice firm even though his hands are still shaking slightly. “I’m not your secret or whatever you think this is."
Ivan opens his mouth, but Lovro doesn’t let him interrupt.
“You don’t get to kiss me like that and then go back out there and hold her hand.”
Ivan’s face tightens.
“You want me?” Lovro continues, his voice lower now but unwavering. “Break up with Sonja.”
“And if you can’t,” Lovro adds, swallowing past the ache in his throat, “then leave me alone.”
"Lovro-"
"No,” Lovro cuts in. “Choose. Or stop texting me. Stop looking at me like that and stop making me feel like I’m crazy for wanting more.”
Ivan’s hand slowly drops from Lovro’s waist.
Lovro holds his gaze, heart pounding, refusing to look away.
“Break up with her,” he says one last time. “Or leave me alone.”
The words hang between them, electric. Ivan’s chest rises and falls with jealousy and want written in every tense line of his body.
"Your choice, Ivan."
Outside the bathroom, the party continues, oblivious, the music throbbing through the walls. Lovro opens the door and weaves through the crowd and sets his cup down at the counter. He gives Jakov a faint nod. No words pass between them, none are needed.
He steps onto the balcony. The winter air hits his face, sharp and clean, and he lets it fill his lungs. Pulling a cigarette from his pocket, he lights it, the flame flickering briefly in the dark.
For the first time all evening, he feels untouchable.