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    Summary

    He moved it lower, pressing it against his crotch. Till registered something subtly straining against his pants. 

    With an incredulous scowl. “What the fuck are you doing!?” 

    Till had always been a hands on person - almost instinctually, he found his palm pressing down experimentally.

    “Shit.” Ivan groaned. His body keening into the touch as his hips stuttering towards Till. His lips were crooked and tight, brows furrowed as his head hung meekly, resigned.

    Till’s hand stilled. Then - reflexively, recoiled a fraction, like a mild burn. It didn’t move far. “What the fuck," he breathed, more to himself than to Ivan, staring down at where his own palm had ended up, at where Ivan had put it.

    Till's missing his favourite fugly handkerchief, effectively ruining his morning - everything seems to implicate Ivan

    [one-shot modern AU smut fic]

    Language:
    English
    Words:
    6,419
    Chapters:
    1/1
    Comments:
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    Kudos:
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