Chapter Text
Nedjelja 16:42
The first time Lovro's dad meets Ivan was a complete and utter accident.
Recently, Lovro’s mother had been flooded with text messages whining about how clearly Ana had been attempting to turn Lovro against his dear old dad. Now Lovro spent every other weekend at his father’s flat. Entirely against his will, he might add. It was just easier than listening to his father drown Ana in half-hearted guilt trips about how his son never called anymore.
After (kind of) finishing his schoolwork he was bored out of his mind. His father had been working and Lovro had failed to make room between his clothes and schoolwork to shove anything interesting he owned into his backpack, meaning he was left completely taskless. He sprawled across his bed. His left arm hung off the side of the bed, a strange humming pain building from the loss of circulation that he chose to ignore. He didn't have the energy to move. Instead he closed his eyes and attempted to drift off to sleep.
It felt strange to act so at home in a place so unfamiliar. His lounging around felt less like relaxing and trying to pass the time and more like acting. it was as if he was trying to prove a point. Really show that he belonged there despite no one being around to see it. Everything in his father’s new flat was unfamiliar and slightly off, like he had tripped and fallen into another dimension, replacing a Lovro that was comfortable around his father and actively chose to be in his life. Lovro always felt off-kilter. Sitting at the table for dinner felt wrong, watching Instagram reels on the sofa whilst his father watched some nondescript sport on the TV felt wrong, texting Ivan in the privacy of his own room felt wrong. Lovro wasn't sure how much longer he could keep up this act. He felt uncomfortable just existing there, but hiding a huge aspect of his life made things infinitely worse.
Just as Lovro began to spiral, he heard his phone buzz. He slid his hand under his pillow in some weird (and painful) manoeuvre, grabbed his phone and read his newest notification, a text from Ivan.
‘Hey, I'm bored. Can I come over?’
It's instances like these where Lovro felt weirdly connected to Ivan, it's like he instinctively knows that Lovro needs some company. Lovro smiled to himself at the idea of Ivan being able to read his thoughts. Even after months of dating it felt weird to him that he could enjoy someone understanding him so deeply, that Ivan could guess how he was feeling even when they're apart. He always assumed his relationships would inevitably involve a whole lot of secrecy and feigned emotion.
He licked his lips nervously before tapping out a reply.
‘yea sure but im at my dads’
He included his location in the text.
Realistically, he knew nothing bad would happen. Him and Ivan would be alone for hours and probably just sit together and watch an anime on his laptop in comfortable silence. But anxiety still clawed through his brain and gnawed holes in his Rolodex of rational thoughts. Even the idea of Ivan stepping through the threshold of his dad’s apartment felt strange. When it comes to his dad, Ivan was his best kept secret. He was sure that, when his father came home from work, probably hours after Ivan had left, he'd take one look at Lovro’s face and manage to squeeze out every moment of Lovro and Ivan’s relationship from a single expression. Dyeing Lovro’s hair in his mum’s bathroom, the quiet ‘i love you's' whilst tucked together on Lovro’s tiny twin-sized bed, sitting in the middle of Ivan's carpet as he paints Lovro for the one hundredth time. From one look, his father is able to see Lovro for what he truly is.
Lovro could imagine the look on his father’s face almost exactly. It wasn't too hard to conjure up. It was simply a more intense version of the look he received when his father found out that he had dyed his hair pink after being so relieved he had dyed it back to a “normal” colour. Or the look he gave him when he found out he’s planning on studying psychology at university. Or when he never grew into a sport. Or when he cried to his father after being pushed over the playground, hoping for some comfort-
Lovro sat up properly now, shaking his arm slightly to reintroduce some blood flow (he was met with an angry bout of pins and needles which he also chose to ignore) and scrolled for fifteen minutes until he heard Ivan at the door.
“Hi, Legend” Ivan smiled whilst stepping into the apartment, coolly. He waited for Lovro to close the front door before leaning in for a quick peck and turning towards Lovro’s room as if he’d been there a thousand times before. Ivan had a strange way of acting completely calm in unfamiliar situations. He never seemed as though he was out of place and didn't belong. This was something completely alien to Lovro who found himself following behind Ivan in his own house.
“Oh, this is… drab” Ivan stated, matter-of-factly.
“Who says drab?” Lovro huffed out a laugh, half teasing, half embarrassed.
To be completely honest, Ivan was right. Lovro’s room was completely soulless. Wooden floors, plain white walls, and a bed. The only thing of Lovro’s was his backpack thrown on the floor. Ivan nudged the backpack with his foot.
“Bleak.”
“Shut up.”
“I’m serious. Are you being held hostage here or something?”
Despite himself, Lovro laughed. Ivan flopped onto the bed and Lovro knelt down to get his laptop.
“Sweet. A thoughtful kidnapper. He even let you keep your anime.”
Lovro shot him a look and Ivan held up his arms feigning surrender. Lovro could already feel the corners of his mouth tugging upwards. He crawled towards Ivan and kissed him properly for the first time since Friday. He had missed being with him. With Ivan he always felt settled, even though he was clearly unfunny and vaguely annoying. Great. Shared custody was ruining Ivan now too.
An hour later, Lovro was sprawled across Ivan like an overfamiliar cat, Ivan’s fingers brushing absentmindedly through his bubblegum pink hair. Their attention was fixed on some shitty anime when the front door opened.
“Lovro? I’m home.”
Something cracked through Lovro like a glowstick. Neon terror flooded every inch of him. Why was he home so early?
He sat up too fast and managed, somehow, to headbutt Ivan directly in the mouth. “Ow. Fuck,” Ivan hissed. Lovro barely heard him. He had already scrambled to the opposite end of the bed, one hand clutched to his forehead.
Lovro’s dad reached Lovro’s room, still preoccupied with his phone.
“Oh!” he said when he finally looked up. “Who’s this?” he asked. Nothing in his voice suggested suspicion.
By this point Ivan had fully recovered. He stood up and walked towards Lovro's father, smiling widely, arm outstretched to shake his hand.
“I’m Ivan, Lovro’s friend,” he explained, too easily. Too natural.
‘Friend’ still felt wrong in Ivan’s mouth. Lovro was grateful that Ivan understood and filtered his language around his father.
“What a nice surprise! I didn't know Lovro had anyone over.”
“Sorry” Lovro coughed nervously, heat rising in his face. His apologies were ignored as his father sprang into a flurry of questions.
***
Lovro’s father insisted that Ivan stay for dinner, disregarding Lovro’s comments that Ivan had to get back home and that he was unbelievably busy.
“Nonsense! I want to get to know my son’s friends."
Lovro wet his lips whilst wracking his brain for a way to escape. Coming up with nothing, he accepted his fate.
Sitting next to Ivan across his father’s Ikea dinner table, Lovro has never felt so far from Ivan. He couldn’t reach out to touch him. Hold his hand for comfort or check that he was actually there and not a stress-induced illusion. It could have been passed off as one. This version of Ivan felt so alien to Lovro. He was so flat, like he wasn't a fully formed person. Instead, a two-dimensional stock photo of a perfect Balkan teenage boy.
“So, Ivan, do you go to school with Lovro? I don’t think he's mentioned you before. He's always been a secretive one, this boy”
Ivan laughed like he really meant it. Lovro could feel his heartbeat throughout his whole body. He could hear it in his ears, feel the pulsating in his eyes, the tingling in his fingers. This was genuinely his worst nightmare. Not only could his dad tell he was a liar, he was already poking holes in the whole “friends” story. This was a bad idea. He shouldn't have invited Ivan over. He should have stayed bored, dangling lethargically off the edge of his bed. Boredom was so much better than this mock interrogation.
Ivan breezed through. “I just moved to his school this year, so guess it makes sense that you haven't heard much of me.” This satisfied Lovro’s father, who pushed on. Neither he nor Ivan seemed to notice Lovro silently imploding to the side of them.
The conversation quickly turned to sport. Something that, even if Lovro wanted to, he couldn’t follow. At all. In a way, it was nice to see his father and his boyfriend bond over shared interests. For a second, he could let himself think of this as a normal first meeting. He knew that if Lovro was a girl his dad would definitely approve.
This thought was immediately cut short when the topic turned to Ivan’s dating life.
“I expect you will have a girlfriend then? A catch like you.”
This was the only time during the evening where Ivan faltered. His eyes quickly flicking to Lovro before responding,
“Erm, no actually. I'm just… far too busy with- school and everything”
“Oh that's a shame! I was hoping you could help my Lovro out. He can't seem to get a girlfriend for the life of him! I'm beginning to worry I'll never have any grandchildren." he chuckled. Ivan joined him with an awkward laugh. Clearly (at least to Lovro) uncomfortable.
Too quickly, Lovro stood up. Mumbling something about the bathroom and stepping away from the table. Over the sound of blood rushing through his ears, he could hear his father. “I must have embarrassed him,” he teased before changing the topic.
Everything had become far too overwhelming. Ivan and his dad. Speaking. Getting along. Teasing Lovro. This was all just so surreal.
He stayed in the bathroom for a minute, focusing on his breathing using some weird counting technique he had learned in one of his lectures. He splashed his face with cold water before returning to the table.
***
Because a higher power was looking down on Lovro and decided to finally give him a break, the night finished quickly after that. Lovro didn't know saying goodbye could be so difficult knowing you’d see each other at school the next day but it all felt so foreign.
At home, they'd stand by the door for another fifteen minutes saying goodbye in various different ways. Sometimes Jakov or (more embarrassingly) Ana would have to pry them apart just to avoid them letting a draft in. Now, stood again in the doorway, when Lovro needed the warm smile, an enveloping hug and Ivan’s signature kiss to the forehead the most, all he received was a clipped smile and a simple “ill see you tomorrow” before they separated.
After Ivan left, Lovro’s dad turned to him.
“I like that boy, he's a real young man, much better than the others you hang out with.” he scoffed. It amazed Lovro how quickly a compliment could sour.
“A vegan and a philosophy student? You should really distance yourself from men like him." he continued pragmatically. “People are going to start getting the wrong idea. That hair is bad enough! You already look…” he trickled off, shaking his head but Lovro knew what he was implying, it was unmissable.
He turned towards his room wordlessly.
***
Later, whilst lying in bed he pulled out his phone and opened his messages,
‘Im sorry you had to stay. I love you <3’
he typed. The response came quick.
‘Dont worry at all!! I love you too, i’ll see you tomorrow’
Despite himself, Lovro smiled. He tried to ignore the anxiety creeping back through and instead focused on the way Ivan's words made him feel. I love you too. even in text it sounded perfect. Little letters illuminating his screen, he closed his eyes and tried to imagine how every syllable sounded coming out of Ivan's mouth.