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“I demand the corner spot.” The jingling of keys drowned out half of Till's words. Ivan fumbled with them next to his house's door lock. Maybe opening it would be easier if he didn't have thick gloves on.
“You know that's my spot,” he mumbled, attention still fully on the key that just wouldn't go in. As if the world was making fun of them. Why couldn't they get inside on the one day it was freezing!?
The key finally clicked and a shared sigh of relief escaped them. “C'mon, you always sit there, you could share. I'm your guest!” Till argued as he rushed to take his shoes off as quickly as possible. He would usually just kick them off, but he had some respect for Ivan's clean floor and didn't want to dirty it with leftover snow. He quickly placed their chinese food take-out on the drawer and leaned down to his boots.
“You basically live here, you've long since lost guest privileges,” Ivan's voice disappeared behind a corner as he took the boxes and headed with them to the kitchen. He scrutinized them with an unconvinced look. “The packaging is so wet… I'm impressed it hasn't fallen apart with all this snow.”
“If we'll have to reheat it I'm gonna start eating plaster off your walls,” a long whine left Till's lips at the thought of having to wait for food any longer. It was already a bad decision to take take-out instead of eating in the restaurant, as dingy as it was. With the distance they had to walk their clothes would have aired out anyway. His stomach was literally churning.
“I'll put it on the plates.”
Was Ivan fucking crazy?
“What the hell. Bro. You're gonna kill the taste!” Till lamented, rushing to stop him.
“I'm literally saving it.” Ivan replied in a monotone voice, but he smiled fondly to himself.
“It tastes better in the box.”
“Maybe, but not in wet cardboard.” Till only saw Ivan's back as he already began to move their food to the plates. He may have won this battle, but Till's gotta take revenge. “Here, you don't have to wait. Your hands must have kept it warm.”
“Thanks,” Till took his plate along with chopsticks and headed to the couch. “I actually think it was the other way around though.”
Soon enough Ivan joined him. He fumbled with the tv remote, probably tried to get it on, didn't matter. Till lost himself in the saucy pasta. Mhmm. Delicious. The exact treat he needed in face of today's weather.
When he has woken up earlier that day, he didn't even think about the view out of the window. Maybe in the back of his mind he expected to see the usual dull, grey view of his street in winter.
Not white everywhere. Literally everywhere.
How has it snowed so much in just a few hours? Apparently, it has started to snow around 4 am. Till thought it was impossible to accumulate so much of tiny snowflakes in such a short time. Trees were white. Cars were white. The sidewalk and the road were white. The only thing that wasn't white was a single black crow sitting on the white tree opposite to his window. The bird tilted its head, as if mocking him.
He reluctantly went to school, with his backpack and his overnight bag too. He was supposed to stay over at Ivan's tonight anyway. He kissed his mom's cheek (she hugged him too tightly, as always) and set off.
Snowy landscapes were known to have a calming effect on lots of people, but not on Till. It gave him this uneasy feeling. What's supposed to be calming about the endless stretch of ice? Everything looked the same. It was like the backrooms. Yeah. That's what it reminded him of. If people found backrooms eerie, why did they find snow comforting? He could never understand.
Besides, as he looked up at the falling blocky snowflakes, he couldn't help but feel disturbed, like he was reliving a memory he has forgotten.
So yeah, Till didn't like snow. Don't even get him started on snowy nights.
“Anything you want to watch?” Ivan asked between chews.
“I wanna pway mawio kawt,” he replied with his mouth full.
“You're gonna play while you're eating?” Ivan smirked. He put a blanket over his lap and leaned back, finally focused on his dinner. Some random paradocumentary played in the background.
“Wait,” Till swallowed. “Isn't it about the time that turkish drama is airing?”
Ivan turned to him, munching on his rice. “I don't know? Which one? This where they kidnap that girl?” He passed Till the remote.
“No, the one with the poor girl and rich but misunderstood man,” Till took the remote and started flipping channels until be found the one he was looking for. Yes. Just in time. Perfectly on the intro.
“That's like, all of them,” Ivan chuckled. Forgive him. A man can forget which drama is which when his best friend (maybe something more?) watches so many of them.
Till shushed him. “Hush. This episode we're gonna find out if the aunt ratted them out.” He put his plate on the coffee table and reclined back on the couch. Not quite comfy yet, so he leaned to his left and put his head on Ivan's shoulder. “Okay like that?”
“Mhm, but I'll be standing up after I finish.” He could feel Ivan's jaw moving as he munched. What a funny feeling.
“Oh c'mon, we'll put the plates in the dishwasher later,” a dramatic flop followed his complaint. Could Ivan stop being such a perfectionist and maybe prioritise being Till's pillow for a second?
He felt Ivan shake his head. “And I'm gonna turn the lights on, it's getting dark,” he nodded towards the window. He was right, the sunset has shifted from beautiful vibrant orange to more of the deep purple hues as they were absorbed with their food.
“Uh, okay,” Till reluctantly lifted his head. “But be back soon.”
Ivan made a quick work of taking their plates to the sink after finishing food. While on it he turned the lights on and returned to Till's side. Said guy was enamored with the scene unfolding in front of him, which was a character walking showed from various dramatic shots. With even more dramatic music.
“I don't think all these were necessary,” Ivan smirked as he settled on the coach.
“Shut up,” Till retorted. “You can't appreciate the beauty of art.” He returned to his original position in the crook of Ivan's neck.
Ivan looked down at the face of the boy who was currently using him as a pillow and briefly thought that he could argue with that statement.
—
This evening was really nice. After the episode of turkish drama ended on a cliffhanger, Till could finally fulfill his wish to play Mario Kart. And get his ass whacked, but that’s besides the point. He can’t accept Ivan’s victory, because that bastard was totally cheating. Till has deemed himself a Mario Kart god in his mind since, like, forever, and Ivan winning over him will not change that fact. Cognitive dissonance or something like this. (Besides, he still couldn’t overtake the NPCs, so this shouldn’t even count as a win!)
While playing they completely lost track of time, and before they knew it it was late in the night. Which in theory meant nothing to Till’s insomnia and Ivan’s horrible sleeping schedule, but it was the rare occasion when Till was finding himself kinda sleepy, so they decided to shower and call it a day.
Till went in first. The hot water on his skin felt heavenly. He could have stood there for a long time but didn’t want to leave Ivan waiting too long for his turn, so he quickly squeezed some more of Ivan’s shampoo on his hair (definitely more than necessary, but, you know. There was no specific reason for that. It just smells nice, that’s all.) and finished his shower.
“I’m done, you can go in,” he offhandedly remarked as he went towards Ivan’s bed. With Ivan disappearing behind the bathroom door, he was left alone. Alone with the darkness creeping outside the window.
He's not afraid of darkness. It just makes him... uneasy. That's it. Yeah. He's not a baby! So what if he has fairy lights in his room? They're aesthetic. By the same logic, having any source of light in your room makes you afraid of the dark.
He didn't even fear what lurked in the dark. It would be common. Fear of the unknown. But that wasn't it. When the night fell, the long, winter night, that would steal away hours of daylight... It just made him think about everything. His mind got quiet and loud all at once. He had thoughts he didn't want to give space in his head. About life. About death. Time dragged on forever, and his insomniac tendencies didn't help, since they just made the cycle lengthen into the night. He usually occupied himself with his hobbies, or when he felt really down, tried reaching out to his friends, just to call them or play ludo. Anything to keep his mind busy.
Now he turned his back to the window, turned yet another small lamp on and settled in bed. The air in the room felt cold, so he quickly burrowed himself under the duvet.
He looked at the silly stars sticked on the ceiling. One might think Ivan had them as a remnant from his childhood, if not for the meticulous way they were positioned. Ivan actually bought them last year and insisted Till had to put them on with him. Which would not be a problem, save for the fact that Ivan also insisted they arrange them like actual constellations.
They spent hours on it. Till has been annoyed to ends of Earth after getting yet another star in Draco wrong for the umpteenth time. Ivan got surprisingly serious when they got to work.
Now he was glancing across their work. Orion. Scorpio. He learnt some interesting stories about the myths behind the names of the constellations when they were putting them on. Apparently, Orion was a son of Poseidon, and he could walk on water. Pretty cool. Like Jesus of Ancient Greece. But he was terribly arrogant, bragging that he could kill any creature, and he died after being bitten by a scorpion. Honestly, serves him right. Now he was eternally mocked by being stuck next to his torturer on the night sky forever.
His eyes drifted further. Virgo. The penis constellation, made of the tiniest stars of the set to blend well with everything, which he added in just to piss Ivan off. Or make him laugh. It was a mistake, since whenever Ivan laid his eyes on it, he could never hear the end of teasing about the size. Aww, Till, it's so cute! Don't worry, I can appreciate small things. All because he was considerate and didn't want to ruin Ivan's ceiling! Damn this asshole, he should have put all the stickers Ivan bought in a phallic shape to create a huge dick above Ivan's bed. That would be more fitting.
Wait, that sounded wrong. He meant that Ivan was a big dick. Not that he had one—
The creak of the door interrupted his train of thoughts. Ivan finally emerged from the bathroom after what felt like forever (and in reality was only about 10 minutes).
“Is your heater even on?” Till grumbled, sitting up. “My feet are about to freeze.”
“Yes, and I can't turn it up more. We would suffocate like that,” Ivan said, settling in the bed next to him. In socks. Well, his feet are gonna be warm for sure.
“It's cold as fuck here! Shouldn't you keep your lizard ass in higher temperatures?”
“It’s optimal to sleep in cooler conditions. Also, not my fault you decided to have a t-shirt and thin pants as your pajamas in winter,” Ivan chuckled. A pillow hit his face.
“You know I run warm,” Till sighed. He plopped on the bed, defeated. He'll just have to curl on himself tonight. He can't even ask Ivan for a hoodie, he knows it really would be too warm for him then. Eh. Never the golden mean.
In the corner of his eye he saw Ivan move to take something from under the bed. He curiously tilted his head, only to see Ivan's arms emerging with a huge, thick blanket.
Jackpot.
Now, he has to endure kowtowing to Ivan.
“Ivan…” Till was about to start his pleading for the greater good, when Ivan unceremoniously raised the duvet off him in one swift motion. Before Till could say a thing, he threw the big cocoon of warmth on Till and, taking advantage of Till's astonishment, promptly tucked him in.
“Here, now you're gonna be warm,” Ivan grinned at his face, his natural (beautiful), crooked smile.
Till appreciated it, really. But did Ivan really have to climb on top of him to do it!? Now he was too hot, and he was sure it was not the blanket's fault.
In the time Till's brain was buffering Ivan retracted and made himself comfy under the duvet. The duvet that didn't look very warm, now that Till had the additional heat of a blanket on him. The duvet under which Ivan-I'm-always-cold was supposed to spend the night.
“Oi, come closer. You're gonna get cold.” Till reached over Ivan with the closer part of the blanket and put it neatly over him. He somehow managed to bend his arm enough to tuck him in too. He mentally gave himself a pat on the back for a job well done.
In the low lighting he couldn't see it, but Ivan sported a beautiful blush high on his cheeks. The blanket kept them so close together, their chests were almost touching. His uneven breath was fanning against the stray hairs on Till's forehead as he shuffled back to his earlier position. Just a little closer and they could melt into each other. Skinship wasn't exactly unusual for them, but something about this situation made Ivan's heart beat faster.
“O-okay, so we're all set now?” Ivan answered with a tremble to his voice. Weird.
“Mhm.” Till hummed, getting comfortable. Like a cat. “Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” Ivan replied, and then Till shuffled closer to him. Just a millimeter.
Just enough.
Their bodies found purchase in each other, sagging in relaxation when they were so close. Ivan apprehensively moved his arm to rest around Till's middle. He was a winner tonight, since Till just moved closer and returned the gesture.
Till felt perfect like this, too. Peaceful and safe. Suddenly all of his earlier worries didn't matter. The only thing in the world was the shared warmth between him and the boy with stars in his eyes. The boy who constantly made fun of him. Who watched trashy dramas with him even if he didn't care about them at all. Who tucked him in gently like he was something precious.
If he felt a loving press of lips on his forehead as he drifted off, well, that was only for him to know.
—
Till slowly blinked his eyes open. Warm. He felt nice warmth, enveloped from every side by it. It wasn't too much. It was exactly what he needed. He moved his head a little to see what kept him in such a pleasant state.
He was tucked under Ivan's chin, into his chest. When he leaned forward, he could feel every rise and fall matching the older's breathing. He seemed still deep asleep, probably catching up on sleep he lost during the week. Stupid overachiever. Till should stay over more often to prompt Ivan to give his body longer rest.
Now that he thought about it, he was rather quite well rested himself. He hasn't slept so well in a while, and that's something considering that even when he finally dozes off he usually wakes up multiple times during the night. Feeling the surge of positive energy through him, he carefully sat up to look out the window.
The snow outside lay white and heavy on every possible surface, but the onslaught from the clouds has stopped. With everything basked in rays of sunlight it even looked kinda pretty. Till could appreciate that, as an artist.
He looked down at Ivan, now cuddled to his midsection. He looked so peaceful. His hair all tousled and face relaxed. Maybe Ivan is a deep sleeper, but Till would still feel like a monster if he somehow managed to accidentally wake him up. He wriggled down again and returned to Ivan's arms. Just for 5 more minutes, he thought.
(It was not 5 minutes.)