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It wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Ivan slumps over, hand pressed against his side where the security bots grazed him, and thinks furiously about what just happened.
He should have known, honestly, considering that it was a mad scientist’s lab, but the pollen spray was unexpected. It was supposed to be a routine mission, something straightforward, and while this is never easy, at least the goal was simple.
And now he’s here, hunched over in some back alley, injured, and without the thing he even came here for. And most importantly, dosed with some kind of mystery pollen. With any number of possible effects. He really needs to get out of here before… whatever it is kicks in.
Ivan’s starting to drag himself to his feet and stagger out of the alley when it hits him: a sudden blaze of heat in his body, overwhelming in its intensity. Every single nerve ending on his skin feels hypersensitive and like he’s been set on fire. Ivan staggers another step forward and the sheer shock of pleasure that runs up his spine almost forces a moan out of him.
Aphrodisiac. Fuck. This isn’t good. Who knows how long the effects might last. But also… nobody else knows he’s here. After he went rogue, he changed his title and outfit completely to avoid suspicion. Back when he was still working with… they made Ivan wear white to match with his partner’s dark gray ensemble, and the two of them were dubbed the CURE duo. He’d been the one to come up with that name, wanting it to reflect his feelings after he and his mother were saved by another superhero duo.
Black Sorrow doesn’t work with a team. He’s the mysterious rogue vigilante who works in the shadows, sometimes stealing jobs out from the official superheroes of the city. Ivan was taken from the slums as a young boy, recognized for his abilities that manifested young as a matter of survival. Now that he’s on his own, he’s returned to the streets he used to inhabit, maintaining relationships with all kinds of people who are familiar with what goes on outside of the city surveillance system. But it comes at the cost of his true identity; nobody knows who Black Sorrow is outside of the mask. Ivan is very careful to keep that under wraps. However, this also means that no one will come for him should anything happen.
Ivan breathes in, out, and tries to think of how to get out of this. He is quite far from his home right now, and trying to seek relief from any of his contacts runs the risk of exposing his true identity. He really doesn’t want to get any random civilians involved. Oh, and, he’s still injured from dealing with everything else in that chem lab. Great.
Ivan tries to take another step forward and the resulting shock is enough to bring him to his knees. At this point, he’s so exhausted that he can’t muster up the willpower to try and move again, so he just sits down fully and leans against the crumbling brick wall, trying to think about anything else other than the way his skin is crawling with the burning ache in his body that begs for someone’s touch.
Is this really how I get taken out? By a lust spell, of all things?
Helplessly, his mind drifts, thinking back to his proper superhero days, back when he had a partner who held all of Ivan’s trust and affection, who knew him like the back of his own hand, who…
Was too good and kindhearted for the world they lived in.
Ivan left HQ to protect him, because when Ivan found out how deep the corruption ran, there was no way he would be able to stay there. He would be removed, and when they came for him, his partner would be implicated too. And Ivan couldn’t do that to him. To be the one to dull the sparkle in his eyes.
Till’s dream had always been to join their ranks and become a hero, just like the ones that saved him and Io in his childhood. How could Ivan ever take that away from him? No, better to leave of his own accord, before HQ could make their move.
It’s not like Till would care that much anyways. Their partnership was formed from their incredible mental compatibility; their enhanced abilities complementing each other perfectly. But despite the tacit understanding that formed over the course of their training, Ivan and Till’s partnership had been marked by Ivan constantly pestering Till and Till constantly running away from him. Ivan distinctly remembers Till venting to Sua once about how much of “an insufferable asshole of a partner” Ivan is. (What he didn’t hear was the part after, when Till admitted that he wouldn’t trade Ivan for the world).
It’s been three years since then. Ivan has seen him around, because he’s the vigilante undercutting HQ’s missions, but in general, he tries to stay away from any mission that Till gets assigned to. He has to, or else he’ll succumb to the temptation to call out for Till again, to try and get his attention, to insert himself into Till’s life where he shouldn’t be. To bask in the warmth of Till’s presence. And Ivan doesn’t deserve such beautiful things.
Now… Ivan tries to imagine what Till must be like now. Does he still forget to put on sunscreen and end up with a mask tan? Ivan smiles at the thought. Till was notoriously bad about his personal maintenance, leaving Ivan to be the one to remind/tease him about it all the time. Now, with nobody there to remind him… It’s a cold consolation, and Ivan feels like an absolute shit person for even thinking like this, but ever since his departure, Till hasn’t had another partner working with him.
“Hey, are you okay?”
Ivan must be truly out of it, because he hadn’t even noticed that someone was approaching. His nerves are shot, brain overloaded with pure need and arousal, to the point where it’s making it really hard to think about anything else. He sluggishly raises his head to look at the stranger who’s found him and has to wonder if he’s so far gone that he’s started hallucinating, because that can’t be who he thinks it is standing there, staring down at him in concern.
Till is standing there, in his full superhero gear, extending a hand out to him. His brow is furrowed in concern, and his eyes still shine with the same sincerity that drove him into this field in the first place. Ah… that’s good. They haven’t taken the spark from him yet.
Evidently, Till wasn’t expecting to see Ivan here either, because his expression quickly morphs from concern to recognition to surprise to… something, before switching back to surprise. “Ivan…? What are you—You’re the Black Sorrow? The mysterious vigilante who’s been undercutting HQ and stealing our mission targets out from under our noses?”
Ivan smiles, but it’s not a pretty thing. “It’s good to see you, too, Till,” he says, and he means it.
Of course, Till takes that the wrong way. “Asshole! Do you have any idea of how much trouble you’ve caused for me back at HQ? Also, you vanish without a word, only to turn up as some unregistered rogue who’s interfering with the actual superheroes assigned to the case? You left without even saying goodbye—”
Till cuts himself off, heaving. Both of them know exactly what he’s talking about.
Ivan has to avert his eyes. Every day he wishes he could have spent just even a moment longer with Till, because the last time they’d seen each other, it was when Ivan found Till drugged and restrained on the floor after being given faulty intel on their last mission together. That was the moment Ivan knew he had to leave, that HQ was deliberately sabotaging them as punishment for Ivan knowing too much. He remembers freeing Till from the restraints, and then—unable to help himself, cupping Till’s woozy and barely conscious face and nuzzling it with his own. He remembers getting back to HQ with Till in his arms, handing him off to the medics, and the moment Ivan let go, Till had reached out towards him with a small little noise of despair, as though he couldn’t bear to be separated from Ivan.
He’s startled out of those memories by Till snapping a finger in front of his face. “Ivan? You good? It’s not like you to zone out that much… Oh shit! You’re bleeding! Why didn’t you say so?” Till demands, crouching down so he can examine the wound. “We need to get you back to HQ immediately.”
Ivan shakes his head. “I can’t. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine.”
Till rolls his eyes. “Are you kidding me? You literally look like you’re one step away from passing out. Stop being a stubborn idiot already.”
He shakes the hand extended towards Ivan more insistently. When Ivan doesn’t respond, Till sighs and reaches down himself to try and help Ivan stand up. The moment his hand touches Ivan’s shoulder, a full body shiver rips through Ivan and he has to suppress a moan of relief from the touch. Till’s hand is so nice and cool against his burning skin, and Ivan has to—
He slaps Till’s hands off his shoulders, averting his eyes. “I told you, I’m fine. I can handle it.”
Till huffs a frustrated sigh. “You’re still just as stubborn as ever. Well, if you’re not going to accept my help of your own volition, then I’ll just have to carry you back myself.” And before Ivan can process what’s happening, Till reaches under his arms and hoists Ivan to his feet before wrapping his arms around Ivan’s waist, trying to haul him up and over Till’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
It’s just—
Ivan’s been burning up with arousal for god knows how long now, and now that it’s Till of all people who found him, the dam breaks.
Ivan pulls Till in by the waist, pressing himself up against every inch of his body. He barely registers Till’s startled gasp before he’s descending on him, claiming Till’s lips the way he’s been wanting to for years.
Till stands there frozen for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden kiss, and then he’s pushing back against Ivan, kissing him back with just as much fervor. Ivan can’t help the whine that gets torn out of his throat. He’s dreamed of this for years.
But now that it’s here, now that it’s happening, Ivan finds that he can’t get enough. He pulls Till even closer to himself, as though trying to fuse himself into Till, and shoves his knee in between Till’s thighs so that Till can feel just how affected he is.
Till breaks away briefly to gasp for air, and then he’s moving in closer again, slowly walking Ivan backwards until he’s backed against the wall, kissing him all the while. His hands come up to cup Ivan’s face, a thumb sweeping over Ivan’s cheekbone like he’s something precious.
That’s what snaps Ivan out of it.
It takes every ounce of willpower he can muster to do it, but he shoves Till away from him, breaking free of his embrace. Till stumbles back, eyes wide. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are wet and swollen and Ivan knows he’s fucked up.
“Not… not like this,” Ivan forces himself to say, his voice so hoarse it makes Till flinch, and before Till can regain his bearings Ivan is gone.
Running from the gravity of his mistakes, away from all that he’s ever wanted, just so he doesn’t tarnish one more golden, beautiful, thing.