Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Could you just stop peeking over my shoulder for a second? It’s annoying.”

Ivan still didn’t budge, as he continued to look at what Till was drawing on a blank paper— now filled with lyrics and sketches of Mizi. Till was too focused to even look at who was peeking over his drawings.

Still sensing someone’s presence– precisely a black-haired stubborn and annoying boy he knew— Till sighed in frustration.

“I said, can you stop peeking over my shoulder?”

“It’s not polite to ask someone a question without looking at them. Especially when it’s a request or a favor you want to ask.” Ivan answered swiftly, with his usual calm and neutral tone.

“Shut up, loser.” Till answered, still not looking at Ivan. 

“I’m not a loser. I have friends.”

“Oh yeah? Who?”

“Well, you’re my friend. I consider you as my friend.” Ivan answered, his tone still as calm as always.

“We aren’t friends, jeez. Now leave me alone.”

“If you aren’t friends with me, then you’re a loser as well."

“You—! Say that again!”

Till’s face heated up and his cheeks flushed. He angrily pushed Ivan away with his elbow, but Ivan threw himself back onto Till, wrapping his arms around Till’s neck from behind.

“Hey! G-Get off me!”

“You should look at the person when you want to ask for a favor.”

Till groaned, as he stubbornly stayed still, and just gave up. Ivan was way too annoying. He’d rather be tortured by his alien owner again than give the satisfaction to Ivan by looking at him.

“Whatever, just shut up.”

“You don’t mind my arms around you? Is it really that hard to look at me? You always look at Mizi.” Ivan said, his tone slightly wavering. His usual calm and unbothered tone suddenly showed a hint of desperation.

Till’s face took an even deeper shade of red, as he flusteredly replied quickly.

“I-It’s not like that! I don’t always stare at her!”

“You do.”

Till didn’t reply, as he just tried to focus on his drawing— of Mizi. Ivan tried to think. He always wondered— why did Till like Mizi so much? Yes, she was pretty, and bright, maybe even brighter than the fake sunlight in the Anakt Garden playground, but Ivan was always the one playing with Till, and not Mizi.

“If I dye my hair pink, will you like me as much as Mizi?”

“What the hell? It doesn’t work like that. She’s a girl, and you’re a boy.”

Ivan finally looked away, his unwavering stare always towards Till now facing the ground.

“Then if I was a girl, would you like me?”

“...”

At Till’s silence, Ivan looked back at Till, always meeting the same pair of green— and beautiful, Ivan thought— eyes that never even once looked at him again since the first time they’ve seen each other. He wanted to see those eyes look at him— just at him— again. Even if it was for just a split second. Even if it was only because of pure happiness, pure love, pure annoyance, or pure hatred.

Ivan responded to Till's silence with the same hesitating silence, lost in his thoughts. Till was already on his sixth drawing of Mizi, Ivan’s head leaning on Till’s shoulder— Till gave up trying to get Ivan off him, this boy just wouldn’t let go of Till— and the fake sun was on its way to give its place to the darkness.

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The next day, Ivan woke up, did his usual morning routine— wake up early, study, shower, change, eat breakfast, and then study again, before being guided to the daily singing sessions with the other students by his alien owner. 

Till wasn’t there.

Ivan looked around, as he was sure that he’d see that boy and recognize him everywhere— literally— everywhere. He still didn’t see him. Where’d he go?

Ivan sat down against a tree, waiting for Till to arrive. Maybe he was just late, right? He brushed his fingers against a red flower next to him.

“Did you get abandoned by Till?”, an infuriating, yet calm and peaceful voice said. Ivan recognized the voice of a blonde haired boy.

Ivan flinched at the question, as he fired back as calmly, his gaze still fixed on the red flower he sees everywhere in Anakt Garden— a clematis. Till used to always pick up those to try to make flower crowns (for Mizi, but that wasn't the point.) When Till couldn’t make one and became frustrated, Ivan would make one too and give it to Till, but Till would give it away.

“Shut up, Luka. You probably got ditched by Hyuna again too. She doesn’t want to be your friend.”

“It’s the opposite. She wants to be friends, but not more than that.”

“...You’re lucky. Till doesn’t even want to be friends with me. He won’t even spare a glance for me. Yet.”

Ivan absentmindedly played with the red flower in front of him, as he picked it up and caressed its soft beautiful red petals, that also reminded him of the colors of Till’s cheeks whenever he mentioned Mizi. 

Luka looked at Ivan, his eyes still as empty as always— but this time, they showed a slight light. Maybe a sparkle of understanding.

“Maybe we have more things in common than we thought. We both want a person that’s out of our reach.”

“It’s not true. I’ll be able to make Till look at me. One day.”

“Keep dreaming, he only has eyes for Mizi.”

Ivan didn’t answer. He just smiled politely, and got up. He knew how to smile to hide his true expression since he was born. Usual image making practice sessions were useful.

“I’m going to go look for Till again. He hasn’t been there the whole day.”

Ivan got up, and walked away, holding a red flower in his left hand.

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After the singing sessions, Ivan has been scolded twice for not putting enough emotion and focus onto his singing, and the way he delivered the lyrics. It never happened before. Ivan’s mind was somewhere else. 

Till.

Not that this was the first time his mind was stuck on Till— in fact, Ivan was always thinking of Till— during the day, when Till was around, when Till wasn’t around, when he was showering, studying, singing, sleeping, and even dreaming. But this time, he was worried and couldn’t help but wonder if his owner did something to him. Last time he saw Till’s guardian, the alien was being pretty cold and didn’t seem to care about Till that much. 

Ivan realized he was being scolded a third time for spacing out. He looked at their alien singing mentor, and politely asked.

“Can I go to the infirmary? I don’t feel very well.”

With the teacher’s permission, Ivan went inside the Anakt Garden building, to the infirmary. When he opened the door with his student ID card, he saw an unconscious grey haired boy, with a white bandage on his forehead, laying down on a bed with the heart monitor rhythmically beeping next to the bed—

Till.

Ivan’s dull eyes found their slight sparkle once again. His red pupils dilated.

He laid down next to Till, the bed comically too big for one small student of their age. Ivan gently placed a hand on Till’s neck, looking at him from the side. He slowly leaned in, and admired Till’s features from up close— he never saw Till’s face from that up close, Till would always push him away— and looked at the long, delicate eyelashes on Till’s closed eyes. The small bruise on his right cheek. His slim nose, and his pale skin. The strands of hair falling on his face. His lips.

“Till. Wake up.”

Ivan wanted Till to wake up, to open his eyes, right on front of him, to look at Ivan in front of him, to—

To finally look at Ivan for once.

Ivan gently tugged on the sleeping boy’s shirt. Noticing that the boy was probably in a deeper slumber than expected, he planted a soft kiss onto Till’s bandage, on his forehead, and leaned back. 

“You won’t ever have to suffer again. I’ll break you free eventually.” he whispered softly, staring at Till’s unresponsive state.

Ivan got up, walked towards the exit for the infirmary, and looked back once again, at the boy he loved, the boy he was infatuated with, the boy he wished that one day he’d realize how much Ivan just wanted to be seen.

The day ended by Ivan going home, doing his usual routine— showering, studying, eating, studying again, and then, focusing on composing his songs— about Till.

Chapter Text

“I don’t want to go to my sessions looking like this.” Till spat back to his guardian, his eyes wandering to the reflection of himself from the glass window. A big bandage on his forehead, a cut on his cheek, his eyes slightly swollen, and his shirt slightly ripped at the bottom. He didn’t mind the last detail, it just pissed him off that he looked like fucking shit right now.

It was his bastard owner’s fault that beat him up yesterday because Till wasn’t willing to get injected with some unknown liquid that hurt like hell every time the needle stung into his skin, the liquid burning and making his whole body ache.

Till stubbornly stood there, instead of following Urak to go to his daily lessons at the Anakt Garden. He cursed under his breath, as he kicked the wall in anger.

His collar suddenly started to burn— it felt like he was being electrified. Waves of shock ran through his whole body. Till screamed in pain at the sudden burn, falling to the floor on his knees, clutching his neck in agony, pulling, scratching, and weakly trying to remove the collar. His breath grew in little desperate pants, but his fierce eyes didn’t waver. A choked sob escaped Till’s cracked lips. A tear rolled down his face without him noticing he was crying. 

Did that bastard Urak activate his collar?

It was agony.

Urak simply stared at the grey haired boy suffering, almost in satisfaction and in amusement. He just fucking stared at Till calmly.

As the waves of agonizing shock stopped, Till gasped, and couldn’t do anything else than stay on the floor, trembling. He never thought simply laying down could be so relieving. His eyes even more swollen from his tears, Till’s vision was blurry for some minutes. He thought he saw Ivan for a second. But it was just Urak pulling on his collar to make Till look at him.

‘Don’t complain and misbehave anymore, or it’ll hurt more.’ Urak’s face seemed to say.

Till was too exhausted to even give a damn about his despicable, loathsome, disgusting guardian. The next thing he knew, he was thrown outside, in the Anakt Garden playground. 

He recognized the familiar giant room, the artificial lakes, the plastic trees, the fake red flowers, the blinding yellow light that automatically went down every evening, the walls painted in sky blue— if the sky was even light blue during the day, he never saw it— and the students running around, chatting, playing together, and singing.

Till weakly walked around, carrying his daily materials with him— a sketchbook, and his favorite sketching pencil. His legs hurt, his chest also still hurt a bit, his head hurt, his arms hurt— everything hurt. He wanted to fight back and kill that bastard of a guardian, but it would never be a fair fight if he did. 

He was about to sit against the same usual big tree in the corner of the playground— it was the most quiet spot where he could focus on his songs and his drawings— until something was feeling off. He had everything though. His sketchbook, his pencil. But…

Where’s Ivan?

Till wanted to walk around a bit more before sitting down and drawing, until he stopped himself. Wait, what? Why would he want Ivan to be there?

He scoffed to himself, as if finding it annoying that now, he had gotten used to that clingy weirdo being around him.

TIll told himself that it was better for Ivan not to be there to annoy him. Though it was mostly to convince himself that he didn’t like Ivan’s company at all. Which was partly false. Sometimes, during pair activities, he’d get with Ivan because they’d be the only ones left alone— or the teacher would pair them up too, for the same reason. And if it wasn’t either himself or the teacher that paired him up with Ivan, Ivan would literally do all sorts of disturbing things to get his attention so they’d pair up— he’d get behind Till and lick behind his ear, steal Till’s shoe only for Till to run after him and tackle Ivan to the ground— before Ivan retaliates, and once he even almost choked Till from a simple back hug. More like holding suffocatingly tightly Till so that he couldn’t run away from Ivan. 

Till looked at a pink haired girl in the distance, her laughter and her innocent smile brightening the whole room. 

Mizi.

He thought for a second to go talk to her, but as he became nervous and beet red from just thinking about it, he gave up. Also because that one black haired girl would always side eye him whenever she saw him looking at them playing together. It made him feel a bit… threatened. 

He finally sat down against the tree, and started sketching. He felt an odd wind of emptiness brush past his right shoulder. Where Ivan would usually be, peeking over and sometimes glancing at Till too.

Why couldn’t he stop thinking about Ivan?

Right when he cursed himself under his breath, a boy with deep black eyes and red pupils— 

Oh. Oh. Ivan’s there.

Till excitedly got up, as he ran to the entrance door of Anakt Garden, where Ivan’s guardian was still chatting with the teacher at the entrance. 

Wait, why was he so excited to see Ivan? 

Till stopped in his steps, and hoped that Ivan didn’t notice Till running over to him and then turning back around. But like the creepy bastard he is, Ivan was looking at Till the whole time from the corner of his eye, and he called him out.

“Till. Sorry I was late. Were you looking for me?”

Till didn’t look back, as he hurriedly sat down against the same tree, and scoffed.

“Like hell I would. I was actually happy you weren’t there.”

“What happened to you? Your face…”

That question caught Till off guard. No way in hell he was gonna admit that he got beaten up and punished by his guardian like a weak idiot until his whole body hurt like a bitch. He hated the fact that he looked that bad for Ivan to even ask him what happened. What he didn’t know is that Ivan thought he still was the most beautiful person.

Till scoffed again. “The hell you mean? Nothing happened.”

“But your bruises are even worse than yesterday.” 

“I wasn’t even there yesterday, so stop pretending to know shit.”

“I went to the infirmary and saw you there.”

“What? Why? You got hurt too?” 

Till’s tone hid a flicker of concern, and Ivan saw through it. He was delighted— no, that was an understatement— he was euphoric that Till got worried about him. That meant he cared about him, right? Even in the slightest would make Ivan—

“Stop staring at me like a creep. I can feel your stupid annoying weird stare on me for the past five minutes.”

“But I like looking at you.”

He ran a finger over Till’s bruise on his cheek, and Till aggressively pushed Ivan’s hand quickly. “Don’t fucking touch me!” Ivan reluctantly held back from caressing Till’s cheek once more and feeling Till’s skin against his fingers. It made Ivan’s heart skip a beat despite his usually monotone attitude. 

“Did you just worry about me?” Ivan purred, as he smiled genuinely— he only kept those smiles for Till.

“Fuck no. Why would I worry abou-”

“Because we’re friends.”

Ivan’s eyeslashes fluttered, as he blinked while staring at Till, waiting for his answer.  

“We’re not friends.”

“Then are we more than friends?” 

“Definitively not best friends. ”

I didn’t mean that by saying more than friends , Ivan wanted to say, but he held back when he heard Till’s annoyed tone. He was used to holding back from saying lots of things to Till. Like wanting to tell him how precious he was to him, how he was his everything. His universe.

Ivan noticed that Till was now meticulously trying to put the fallen petals back on a destroyed red flower on the ground. He seemed to mutter some words to himself. Clear up, clear up…? No, cheer up.

“What are you doing?” Ivan asked, tilting his head to the right as he sat down next to Till, in front of the flower.

“Cheer up…cheer up.” Till kept repeating, without paying attention to Ivan.

Like the adorable lovesick idiot Ivan was, even though he didn’t understand why Till kept repeating that line like a mantra, he copied Till and started repeating those words as well.

“Cheer up…cheer up….” Ivan said, staring at the red flower Till was also staring at.

“What are you losers doing?”

Ivan’s eyes rose up to the brown haired young boy behind that called them out. Till flinched, as he frowned and turned around. Before he could say anything, Ivan quickly got up, and glared at the person who just called them losers. Who just called Till a loser.

“Don’t call Till a loser. In fact, you’re the loser here. You’re watching us instead of playing with your friends. Unless you’re friendless, that is.”

The brown haired boy froze, his smirk slightly dissipating. He glared back at Ivan, but couldn’t match the intensity of his cold, piercing stare, in his deep black, red eyes. As he couldn’t find something to say back to Ivan, he just scoffed and laughed, as if trying to mock Ivan. Ivan didn’t flinch, and Till just stared at Ivan who took his defense.

I didn’t ask for you to talk for me, bastard , was what he wanted to shout to Ivan, but held back when he saw the humiliated expression on the brown haired boy. Maybe that stubborn annoying piece of— he meant— Ivan, could be helpful sometimes.

“Haha! So what, you like Till or something? You seem to love him so much you always stick to him and defend him even though he thinks you’re annoying!” 

Ivan flinched at what the brown haired boy just said. He was upset. Angry. Mad. He was so fucking mad that he maybe didn’t notice the tiny tears that stung the corner of his eyes, despite his poker face. That fucking asshole didn’t deserve to talk like that. His hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning as white as his uniform. Yes. He liked Till. He loved him. He adored him. Till was his sun. His everything. Ivan’s gaze softened upon realizing that what the brown haired boy had said was true. 

It fucking hurt.

He wanted to rip that brown haired boy’s hair, punch him in the stomach, torture him the way Till’s owner tortured Till—

“Hey, bastard, he may be annoying, but he’s my friend. So talk to him again like that and I’ll beat you up.”

Ivan’s skipped a beat— no— stopped beating for a whole fucking five seconds— as he turned around to see Till, standing up, and glaring daggers at the brown haired boy. His teary eyes were now filled up with wonder— and well— Till.

The black haired boy’s cheeks turned as red as the broken flower on the floor.

“You think you can just beat me up, loser? You’re too weak for that.”

At the brown haired boy’s reply, Till lost it and threw himself onto that jerk. He kicked him, grabbed him by the collar, before receiving a scratch on his arm from the other boy. They ended up fighting, and Ivan repeatedly called out Till’s name, only to be ignored.

As the brown haired boy tried to tackle Till to the ground, the grey haired boy bit into the other boy’s arm fiercely, before he got up and threw a last punch, panting and wincing at the pain from the bruises he just got. The brown haired boy got up, and with an angry yet terrified look, he ran away, wiping tears from his eyes.

Till sat back on the grass, exhausted from the fight. It wasn’t the first fight he had gotten in, but the bruises certainly stung this time. He looked at his scratched knee that was slightly bleeding. He groaned. “It hurts…”

“Do you want to go to the infirmary then?” Ivan sat back down, next to Till. He was still feeling giddy from that one moment when Till defended him. When Till called him a friend.

“Nah, that stupid jerk is probably already there. Don’t want to see his face again.” Till scoffed, his frown softening, as he calmed down. Ivan turned around to see Till playing with the flower they were meddling with earlier.

“Did you mean it?”

“What do you mean?”

“The thing you said.”

“Stop talking in riddles, you idiot! I don’t understand what you’re talking about. Whatever.”

“You said I was your friend.”

“I just said it to shut that jerk up. Also because you were about to cry. Moron.”

Ivan flinched. He replied as quickly as he could, almost stammering.

“I wasn’t about to cry.”

“Sure.”

“But seriously, did you mean it or not?”

“Stop asking me questions!”

“So you didn’t mean it?” Ivan’s shoulders that were raised in giddy excitement and happiness were now slumped back.

“Ugh, whatever. Just shut up and leave me alone.”

Ivan still kept a small hope in his heart. 

His answer wasn’t a no.

His shoulders raised themselves again in pure hope, and he just stared at Till with his usual, calm and collected poker face. He could stare at him forever— literally— and never ever get bored. Being by Till’s side was enough, for now. Ivan’s gaze was fixated on Till as always, and Till’s gaze was drifting off to the flower they were meddling with earlier.

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Till was back at sketching like usual, while sitting against a tree, this time alone. Ivan had left earlier today because his owner wanted him to take part in some modeling sessions. 

What a perfect pet , Till had thought about Ivan. 

He didn’t know if it was jealousy that he felt or admiration. Or just simple thoughts.

Till had always found Ivan invading his personal space a bit annoying at times, but he couldn’t help but notice the emptiness on top of his right shoulder, where Ivan would most of the time lean his head on, staring at whatever Till drew, from doodles, to song lyrics, to drawings of Mizi. Sometimes, Ivan’s hair would rub too much on Till’s neck, and Till would nudge him with his shoulder, trying to get Ivan off him. And Ivan would just stubbornly lean his head again on Till’s shoulder, until the grey haired boy would stop trying to push away Ivan. 

Till was never really close with other people, but he did found an odd comfort in Ivan's presence as time passed. 

He absentmindedly sketched, without paying too much attention to what he was doodling. He stopped drawing, and observed his paper. It wasn't a sketch of a pink haired girl anymore.

Till drew Ivan this time.

Chapter Text

“Tilt your head a bit more to the right, so we can see your collar better.”

Ivan obeyed without question to Unsha’s request, seemingly used to hearing commands during his photoshoot sessions. This time, he was shooting for a new brand of collar in a public advertisement.

A lot of aliens were envious of Unsha— his human pet, Ivan, was everything an alien would want in theirs. He was indeed perfectly fit for a human model— silky pitch black hair, pale flawless skin, piercing and deep obsidian eyes, a beautiful deep voice, and was obedient.

Ivan raised his chin a bit, tilted his head to the right and looked down at the camera from his angle. He struck a charming smile, and looked right, up, and down, and right again.

Sometimes, when he felt too bored or uninterested in shooting, he’d imagine Till seeing those advertisements. Would TIll admire him, and think he was handsome? Would he notice every detail from Ivan’s different, neat appearance?

Would Till look at him when he saw his advertisements?

The thought of Till looking at him, even if it was just a mere picture of himself, made him want to keep believing in the small hope that one day, the person subject to his infatuation would finally—

“Ivan, the photoshoot is done for today. You may go back to Anakt Garden and go to the changing room there and change back into your uniform.”

Ivan’s focus snapped back to reality, his wandering thoughts about Till pushed away for a bit. He nodded quietly and headed towards the exit of the studio, the aliens chattering about his performance during shooting today.

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Being beaten up and humiliated by a bunch of other students was not in Till’s agenda for the evening. Especially that Ivan left earlier today and wasn’t there, and that Urak always came to pick him up late. ‘I don’t have time to go pick up some useless vermin that early every day’ , was what his owner had said when Till complained about it. He knew he wasn’t gonna get anything out from complaining, but it didn’t cost anything to try.

Till stood there, frozen, his clothes all damp from water that was thrown over his head with a bucket, by a group of other students, who were mocking him and laughing at him. ‘ He’s not even saying anything!’ ‘Yeah, look at this lonely loser!’ ‘That’s why he doesn’t have any friends!’ ‘Haha, that other stupid teacher’s pet loser isn’t even here with him!’ 

Till’s fingers twitched at every snarky comment that resonated in his ears. He felt the stares of other students that weren’t involved but still stared at the scene, either in pure pity, amusement, or curiosity. He felt the humiliation rising. 

This was far worse than the moments where his owner was beating him up, torturing him, or injecting unknown substances inside him. It made every fiber of his body burn, but not as much as he was burning from humiliation right now. And Ivan’s absence made it worse.

He didn’t know if it was the water getting in his eyes that made his vision blurry, or actual tears that threatened to fall any time. If they were tears, then they were tears of anger.

Why couldn’t he stand up for himself this time? Why the fuck couldn’t he just turn around and punch those idiots?

“He’s so depressed that his only ‘friend’ isn’t here. What a loser!”

Till’s teal eyes ignited with a spark of anger. Pure fury. He could’ve swore he felt his pupils retracting at this point.

He snapped.

A mocking laugh was replaced by a scream of pain. Till pulled onto the collar of the boy who just mocked him, who just mocked Ivan for not being there for Till— and he landed a punch, without holding back, on the other boy’s face, making the bully’s nose bleed. Till dropped the boy’s shirt’s collar, and he looked back, at everyone else who was staring in horror in shock, the laughter and comments stopping. His glare was threatening, mad, and sharp. 

Until his eyes had met a pair of familiar, bright, and warm yellow eyes. Except that they were replaced by a look of shock and slight horror this time.

No. No.

It wasn’t long enough until the look of horror also impregnated itself into Till’s eyes too.

Mizi…I didn’t…mean… no…

The words were caught in his throat, unable to come out. He soon unconsciously took a step back, his eyes looking at the ground now. 

What was Mizi going to think of him now?

The tears that were being able to be held back by his previous fury were now freely falling down his cheeks.

This time, he was the one to run away first.

He didn’t look back. He sobbed without even knowing. 

What a fucking shitty evening.

He let himself be humiliated like that. He let Mizi see him like this. Ivan wasn’t there. If Ivan was there, nothing like this would’ve happened. It was all Ivan’s fault. For leaving Till alone, even if it was for a mere afternoon. Maybe if Till put all the blame on Ivan, he’d feel less shitty.

He felt even worse, in fact. He couldn’t deny it. He missed Ivan. If he was there, Ivan would’ve defended him, Till wouldn’t have been alone, and no one would’ve humiliated him like this. No one would’ve laughed at him.

He ran inside the Anakt Garden building, towards the changing room. He was soaked, his damp clothes sticking to his body in an uncomfortable way. Maybe he’ll stay hidden there until Urak comes to pick him up. He was never so excited to be picked up by his bastard of an owner.

As he flung the changing room’s door wide open, his gaze merely met a pair of deep, black ebony eyes.

Wait, Ivan?

Not only he didn’t expect to see the person who fucking left him alone for the whole afternoon, but Ivan was shirtless, holding his white uniform in his arms. He dropped it the moment he fully registered Till’s face.

“What happened? You’re…”

Till didn’t reply nor react to Ivan’s concern that broke the silence. Maybe it was because he realized he looked like shit in front of Ivan after crying with his damp, wet clothes, or because Ivan was there, and shirtless.

Till felt vulnerable.

He felt so miserable and pathetic— he wanted comfort, he wanted comfort from the person in front of him. Ivan. Till had always hidden his pain under a mask of anger, with his fighting back spirit. But this time, it was too much. 

Ivan quickly put back on his shirt, and rushed towards Till, closing the door of the changing room. He didn’t get too close to Till, afraid of being pushed away, but he didn’t back away either. He didn’t ask anything else, it was obvious that Till didn’t want to talk. The grey haired boy’s gaze fell to the floor, just like Ivan’s heart sank to the floor too.

Seeing Till like this had broken Ivan.

Till was always an example to Ivan. A figure of admiration. Always strong, always fighting back, always so fierce and bold. But he didn’t know that it could all be cracked and reveal the vulnerability under.

He had never ever in a million years seen Till cry. One tiny, stupid, and lovesick part of him thought that Till had a beautiful crying face. 

But his heart clenched when he pushed that stupid thought away. 

“Why did you have to leave earlier today? You fucker.”

Ivan flinched at Till’s sudden words, the grey haired boy’s voice hoarse from his sobbing. The black haired boy’s usual neutral face took a guilty expression. Ivan, for once, didn’t know where to look. He couldn’t bear to meet that angry, teary, painful gaze—

He had never felt this guilty his whole life.

“Unsha had to pick me up earlier for a commercial shooting session.”

“You bastard, that’s not what I meant! I knew about your stupid photo shooting sessions! It’s just— it’s all of your fault! I hate you!” Till answered with a spiteful and accusatory tone. He landed a weak punch onto Ivan’s chest, as if he was too tired to even hit harder than that despite his current state. He hit Ivan again, on his chest, and the black haired boy didn’t move. He knew he deserved it. 

“Why are your clothes soaked wet? What happened?”

“Everything’s ruined now! Mizi won’t ever…see me the same..way…”

Oh. So it was about Mizi.

For some reason, some selfish reason, his stomach twisted in pure jealousy at hearing the reason why Till was so damn broken, angry, and sad. 

He must love her so much to be sobbing at this point.

Ivan wished he could’ve been the person making Till feel all of those emotions.

Ivan kept his gaze on the floor, now wet because of Till’s damp clothes, the water dripping one drop at the time, just like Till’s tears were starting to stain onto Ivan’s shirt.

He didn’t say another word. All he wanted was for Till to stop sobbing. It was such a painful, heart breaking sound. Especially coming from Till.

“Stop crying. I’m sorry. I’ll convince my owner to not ever pick me up earlier again. I’m here now.” Ivan said it in his usual calm voice, but this time, it was slightly softer.

“Damn you…it’s too late now…”

“I said I’m sorry.”

Ivan let Till’s head rest on his shoulder. He could still feel Till slightly trembling on him. They stayed like this for a few minutes. 

They didn’t hug, but this was enough for Ivan.

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“Let me repeat again.”

An excruciating burning pain consumed Till’s body once again. His fists stopped clenching, too exhausted from the previous times he was clenching them until his knuckles turned white, to bear the agony.

“Were you planning to escape with that other boy?” Urak continued, speaking in a very collected voice despite the situation, yet full of spite.

Till was too tired of repeating the same thing over and over again— just to be asked to answer correctly again, since Urak didn’t seem to believe him. His throat was burning and sore from his screaming. His wrists were bruised by the restrains that cuffed them to the wall, and his neck hurted from the tight collar that activated the same shock that stung his whole body every time he was being disciplined— except that this time, it hurt even fucking more. Till tried to catch his breath, and he answered with the same attitude he always had. He didn’t want to show those motherfuckers that he was weak at the moment.

“I said I was there to change my clothes, damn it!”

Another wave of agony made Till wince in pain, weakly clutching the cuffs with his fingers, trying to hold onto something to distract himself for the torture. He didn’t notice that he was trying to hold back tears of pain, his breathing was ragged. 

“Do I need to resort to other solutions to make you answer honestly?”

“I said I was changing!”

“I was waiting outside Anakt Garden and no one told me you were in the changing room to change. Lies.”

This time, the agony became unbearable, as Till screamed in pain, finally letting out choked sobs. He felt like he couldn’t breathe for a whole moment— in fact, he couldn’t breathe at all— and if he did, all we heard were desperate, almost inaudible, gasps for air.

“Were you trying to escape?”

“I said I was just changing—”

Till got interrupted as the same agony burned his whole body, again and again, the feeling too familiar but too painful to forget either. Till’s capacity to bear pain broke— he sobbed desperately, wishing for nothing else but for the agony to stop.

Stop. Stop. Please stop. 

But none of the words escaped his chapped, bleeding lips as his consciousness started to fade away, unable to tolerate the excruciating torture.

His last thought oddly drifted to a black haired boy with an irritating calm face.

────────────────────────────────────

“Your vocals seem less harsh than usual, how disappointing. We want to demonstrate anger in this part of the verse, not softness. Restart the song, Ivan.”

Unsha coldly patted Ivan’s shoulder from behind, signaling him to do better this time. It wasn’t Ivan’s fault that he seemed to sing softer today— his heart just couldn’t stop fluttering about the fact that he was this close to Till an hour ago. The memory of Till’s tears soaking his shirt and the warmness of his breaths on his shoulder was still fresh in his mind. He would’ve stayed in that position forever, if it meant being close to Till forever, letting Till express his emotions on Ivan’s shoulder forever, until Urak found them in the changing room, and forcefully dragged Till away. He couldn’t help but wince when he saw that alien pull on Till’s hair while the poor rebellious boy was still trying to fight back. Just like that, Till disappeared out of his sight, and he was brought home too by his own owner.

“Ivan, why are you not singing?” Unsha’s cold voice made Ivan snap out of his thoughts, as he nodded apologetically.

“Sorry. I was distracted.”

“Don’t be anymore. There’s no reason to.”

Ivan nodded again, and started singing, trying to ignore all of his wandering constant thoughts about Till. It didn’t work.

While he sang, he thought about all of the ways he could get to Till tonight and free him.

To escape this hellhole together , his hand in his.

Chapter Text

Opening the door for room 201— the room where Urak usually kept Till after his discipline sessions when he got unconscious— wasn’t as hard as he thought. He thought there would’ve been a password to enter, or an ID recognition system. But the door opened with a single swipe of the authorization card he stole from Unsha when his owner was already sleeping.

Ivan peeked, unsure if Till was there tonight, before he saw a young grey haired boy, unconscious and bound by restraints, which confirmed his thoughts.

He slowly tiptoed his way to Till, careful not to startle his unconscious friend but also to not alert any aliens around. Ivan crouched down to Till’s ankles, and started uncuffing his legs, and then up to his arms and wrists. Without the support of the restraints, Till slumpily fell against Ivan’s chest, the black haired boy catching him, avoiding a loud thump on the floor. Ivan then leaned Till against the wall, for better access to his collar. He knew how to remove a collar since he’s always watched the way Till’s owner would put back on or remove Till’s collar; there was a hidden tiny switch in the back. Ivan removed the tight garment of metal with a simple click.

A pair of delicate, pale, and long lashes started to flutter, before a teal gaze met Ivan’s.

Till woke up.

“Shhh.”

Ivan pressed an index finger against Till’s mouth before he could say anything. Till’s eyes quickly averted from Ivan’s deep stare, as he looked down at his arms, his legs— now free from his restraints and cuffs. He still felt a bit sore because of the tightness of the cuffs, but he wasn’t in a position to complain.

‘What the fuck are you doing here?’ were the exact words Till wanted to spit at Ivan’s face when he realized Ivan was the first person— thing— he saw when he woke up.

“We’re getting out of here tonight.” Ivan whispered, trying to not make too much noise while talking.

Till’s eyes widened, as he stared at his free hands, dumbfounded, and then touched his own neck to discover that his collar was gone as well.

Did Ivan do all of this for him? For them?

Without another word, Ivan dragged Till’s hand, and pulled him up, so he could stand up more easily. Till didn’t object.

He smiled.

────────────────────────────────────

Ivan, still holding Till's hand tightly, turned around to face the grey haired boy.

“Ready?”

Ivan glanced at the last door that separated them from running away, from entering the outside world, from freedom.

Till snatched the card in Ivan’s hand and rushed towards the door.

“Stop asking me questions like an idiot and come on!”

Ivan didn’t answer, but he secretly smiled at Till’s excitement. Being called an idiot never felt that gratifying.

Till excitedly swiped the card, and within a click and a final hiss, the fresh air— for the first time— brushed softly against Till’s face. It felt refreshing. It felt like a privilege. A dream.

Ivan’s eyes widened at the sight. It was beautiful— a starry night sky, as red as his pupils, majestic shooting stars from afar, and on top of that— Till's mesmerized face.

Ivan always thought that Till was beautiful. Even when he was angry. Even when he was crying.

But Till looked the prettiest when he smiled.

Overwhelmed with happiness, a dreamy look in his normally dull, deep obsidian eyes, Ivan grabbed Till’s hand, as he ran towards the never-ending field. The door behind them closed with a final hiss.

They’re free.

Ivan doesn’t need words from Till. He doesn’t need to say any either. They’re just both happy.

Ivan hears Till’s amazed laughs from behind, and his heart crumples. It doesn’t crumple the way it does when Till pushes him away though, it crumples out of happiness.

He had never been so happy.

This fleeting moment of pure ecstasy, this beautiful scenery, it couldn’t get better.

Hand in hand, they ran together in the grass field, under the burning sky full of shooting stars.

He had learned that when there were shooting stars, you should make a wish. But at this exact moment, he didn’t have anything to wish for. He was holding Till’s hand while running freely without anything restricting them.

He regretted not wishing for this moment to never end when he suddenly felt a burdening, sickening emptiness in the grasp of his hand.

He turned around.

‘Till, what are you doing?’

But no words come out of his mouth. Instead, he just stares at Till’s painfully guilty expression. Teal eyes that were looking at him with joy just a few minutes ago were now looking at the ground, to the right, to the left— everywhere but him.

His heart crumpled again. But this time, it wasn’t like the times Till had pushed him away either. It was worse. It was suffocating, it wasn’t a feeling of betrayal, it wasn’t anger— it was bitter, gut wrenching, sharp.

“I’m sorry, I can’t leave Mizi there.”

Nine words he wished he didn’t have to hear.

Who would Till be if he didn’t say those words though?

He loved Till for his determination. For his stubbornness. His passion. If only it had been for Ivan.

Without another word, Till turned around, and ran back to the direction they were running from a few minutes ago, laughing, smiling, hand in hand.

Ivan smiled.

Of course it was too good to be true.

It wasn’t the same smile that he had when Till was holding his hand. It was a bitter one. A fucking bitter one.

Till couldn’t let go of his love for Mizi, so he came back for her.

And Ivan couldn’t let go of his love for Till, so he came back too.

They both ran together under the burning sky full of shooting stars, but this time, in the direction of Anakt Garden, and without holding hands.

Ivan didn’t even have any energy to cry anymore. He was used to it now.

────────────────────────────────────

‘Im sorry.’

When they were so happy together, experiencing the freedom they never had, Till had broken it.

He didn’t know where to look. He didn’t know what else to say. He didn’t want to see Ivan’s reaction when he had let go of his hand.

He didn’t want to hurt Ivan.

‘It’s not that I resent you, I just can’t leave Mizi behind.’

Those words don't even make their way to Till’s throat. Instead, they twist his stomach along with his guilt.

‘I’m so sorry, Ivan. I’m so sorry.’

Those words don't come out too.

Instead, he just blurts out a stupid excuse that makes it sound like he doesn’t care about Ivan at all.

“I’m sorry. I can’t leave Mizi there.”

‘And I want you to come back with me. Don’t leave.’

Those words don’t come out either.

Conflicted, Till just turns around. Maybe it’s for the best.

He doesn’t deserve Ivan, he never did. Maybe he was an annoying prick at some time, but he cared. He cared too much, and Till couldn’t reciprocate it. It was too overwhelming.

He ran back to the cruel world they had both been in since forever.

But when he goes back to his room, he sits against the wall, on the floor. Ivan came back, He didn’t escape without him.

Till felt guilty. Guilty. Miserable.

It fucking hurt.

Maybe he regretted not running away with Ivan. Or maybe the only thing he regrets is that he’s part of Ivan’s life. And that he’s dragging Ivan down with him too.

Till doesn’t even want to think about looking at Ivan ever again. He feels too shitty.

Chapter Text

Till still had a recurrent dream about that night even five years later.

The first time he dreamt of it was the same night that it happened. The other times followed after the first one like some sort of haunting memory that could never go away. It’s been going on since then.

At first, he told himself he’d stop dreaming about it after a few days. Hell, he even hoped he’d forget that night. But he couldn’t.

After two weeks of consecutively dreaming of it every night, he was on the verge of confessing his repeating dreams to Ivan and to ask him if it was also the same for him. He refrained himself from even talking to Ivan at the end.

He didn’t mind the dream. If you didn’t know the context and ignored the feelings, it was simply beyond beautiful. A starry crimson night sky, a never-ending field, the wind caressing softly against his face, the freedom in the moment itself, and a boy that would never, ever let go of his hand.

Despite everything, Till hated that he couldn’t deny that Ivan did have pretty eyes. They were pitch black like ebony, yet with a faint glimmer of light whenever they’d reflect Till in them. They had red, deep ruby pupils that always stared at him. They had long, thick, and oddly feminine lashes.

Even though he never looked at Ivan again since that night, he could still clearly remember his face when Till let go of his hand. He saw Ivan’s bitterly, knowing-it-all smile for a second.

It wasn’t the scenery of the dream that bothered him, but the guilt.

Sometimes he scolds himself mentally. Just during random moments, when he thinks about it. It’s not that he doesn’t look at Ivan anymore because he dislikes him or something, it’s because he can’t bear to look at him out of fucking, bitter guilt.

Till was getting lost in his thoughts. For a moment, he forgot that his cut on his cheek was still bleeding, and was still not treated— Urak never even took the time to go bring him to the infirmary if it was only “minor damage”— and minor damage included cuts, bruises, anything that wouldn’t make Till die even if it was infected. His open wounds never really got infected after a few times, which was surprising. Maybe his body was used to bruises to the point of the wounds not infecting anymore. He snorted slightly to himself at the thought. How ironic.

Some other students glanced at him, giving him a weird look, before simply continuing their conversations, or staying silent and eating their food. Till didn’t really give a single shit about anyone looking at him or judging him.

He took a bite of the food. It was bland and a bit cold. It’s edible, at the very least. He keeps his gaze to his bowl. He forces himself to eat, because he knows he’ll need that energy. The aliens won’t give him food again for the day if he’s suddenly starving because he didn’t eat earlier.

If he was being honest, it didn’t mean that he was always fighting back and that he didn’t want to die, that he was enjoying living. It was hell. Most of the time.

He suddenly felt the table tremble slightly, as he heard the sound of a chair moving on the floor. He knew exactly who sat down three seats away from him. He didn’t even bother looking at who it was.

Till kept his eyes to himself, and took another bite of the bland meal.

He heard the chair rattle again, before feeling a pair of obsidian and red wine eyes on him. He suddenly felt a presence next to him.

‘Leave me the fuck alone, Ivan.’

Till doesn’t say anything. Instead, he stays silent, while taking another bite of his bland food. If he ignores Ivan, maybe he’ll just go away on his own.

Till suddenly feels a long, cold and pale finger brush his cheek, right on his cut.

“The hell!?”

It stings a bit. He instinctively aggressively jerked away, and pushes the hand away. Ivan’s hand.

He caught the smirking black haired boy’s gaze for one second. Till averted his gaze. He looked back at his meal.

Ivan stayed next to Till. He smiled. Till looked at him for a moment.

Till looked at him, only him, for a second.

Ivan shamelessly licked the blood from Till’s cut from his fingers. It tasted like metal, but also a bit bitter. And a hint of sweetness. Ivan never liked the taste of blood in his mouth whenever his nose randomly and suddenly bled, but the taste of Till’s blood was different. He didn’t mind it. Maybe it was just because it was Till’s.

“Did you get hurt again?” Ivan asked softly, still licking his fingers off, trying to taste the lingering aftertaste. He sounded genuinely concerned.

Till didn’t answer. He didn’t even react to Ivan’s question. Nor the fact that the other one was literally licking off the blood from his fresh bruise.

‘Why isn’t Till answering me?’

Ivan tried a different tactic this time to get Till’s attention.

“Did you get beat up again because you were playing the tough guy? That’s stupid.”

Till’s gaze flickered. His fists clenched, as he slammed them onto the table.

“Hey, just shut the fuck up, alright?!”

He got up, and grabbed Ivan’s collar. Compared to some years ago, Ivan was way taller than Till now. Ivan used to be shorter than Till though. The reversed height difference still didn’t refrain Till from effortlessly pulling on Ivan’s collar. It hurted a bit, but Ivan didn’t flinch one bit. His smile reflected in Till’s angry eyes. Till’s collar’s light was red. Ivan’s was green.

Ivan would do anything for an ounce of attention. Quite literally.

Till sighed frustratedly, as he let go abruptly of Ivan’s collar, glaring at him.

“Just, what the fuck is wrong with you? Stop talking to me.”

Ivan didn’t reply.

Till took his food plate and walked away with it, infuriated. He sat down at another empty table, as he reluctantly continued to eat his meal.

────────────────────────────────────

Ivan spotted Till from afar. He was sitting on a big artificial rock, practicing on an imaginary guitar, while humming a faint melody.

Ivan sat down next to Till. Till didn’t even bother glancing at Ivan. At least he didn’t push him away. Yet.

The black haired boy attempted to make conversation.

“What are you doing?”

Till didn’t reply, too focused practicing the chords of his song. He did, however, sigh in annoyance. At least Till noticed Ivan was there. His temper seemed to have subsided too.

A silence followed.

“I’m practicing for my song. Now go away.”

Ivan curiously peeked over the paper filled with notes, on the ground. He spotted a small sketch of Mizi in the right top corner of the paper.

“What is it about?”

He already knew the answer to his own question, he just wanted to talk with Till.

“Why do you care?” Till answered, without even throwing a tiny glance at Ivan.

Ivan didn’t respond. He quietly watched Till passionately flicker his fingers over the strings of his imaginary guitar. An awkward, yet peaceful silence followed.

Ivan attempted to make conversation. Again.

“Why don’t we try that too?”

“The hell? Try what?”

“Having our lips face each other.” Ivan said casually.

Till stopped humming and turned around to face Ivan, as he looked at him with an incredulous look on his face. Ivan smiled widely at Till’s gaze that was directed towards him.

“Ew! Why would we even do that?”

“Everyone does it these days. Let’s try it too.”

“Hell no! That’s gross!”

At Till’s reactions— he found them funny and endearing— Ivan jokingly whined, putting on a pleading face.

“But I want to try it…”

“...well…might think about it on your birthday.”

Ivan scowled quietly. His brows furrowed.

“You know I don’t have a birthday.”

No answer was heard. Ivan insisted.

“You’ll do it at least once, right?”

It was Till’s turn to scowl. ‘Does he really think I’ll do it?’ Till thought to himself.

Ivan persisted.

“Right?”

“Hmph.”

“What does that mean?”

Till continued humming his song, as if nothing happened. Ivan frowned at Till’s last dismissive answer.

Well, that’s as good as he can get for an answer. It wasn’t no.

Ivan subtly leaned against Till’s shoulder, like he always did since they were young. Till slightly flinched, but didn’t say anything. He continued playing his imaginary guitar. He knew that pushing Ivan away wouldn’t do anything, knowing how stubborn the other was.

They stay like this for a couple minutes.

────────────────────────────────────

“They’re like two dorks. Or two peas in a pod, in an odd way.”

“What’s a dork?”

“Well, just look at them two, it says it all.”

Mizi looked up from the flower crown she was making to glance at the direction Sua was looking at— she was looking at Ivan and Till. The two boys were sitting next to each other, probably having a conversation or bickering. She doubted that it was the first option. Mizi giggled.

“They’re always together!”

“True.”

“Sua, do you want leaves too in your crown or just flowers?”

“I don’t mind, anything you make is beautiful.”

“Okay!” Mizi brightly smiled.

────────────────────────────────────

“Hey, Ivan, did you see my pencil?”

Ivan turned around to face Till, who was frantically looking in every crack in the ground. He answered him innocently.

“No. Why?”

“I don’t know where it is, it was next to my sketchbook before.”

“Want to search for it together then?”

“No! I can search for it myself.”

“Fine.”

“Huh?”

Till was expecting Ivan to be persistent like always, to at least insist one more time, but he didn’t. Odd.

“You told me you can search for it yourself. I won’t bother you.”

“...alright.”

Till wandered off, eyeing everywhere, to see if his pencil maybe rolled away, or if someone took it by accident and left it somewhere.

After fifteen minutes of useless searching, he returned to the last place where he left his pencil. Maybe he didn’t search thoroughly.

“Hey, what are you doing now?”

Till turned around to the other boy that stood up over him from behind.

“None of your business.”

“Why are you alone? Where’s that guy that always follows you?”

Till’s eyebrows slightly scrunched. He bit back an insult.

“I just told him to not follow me.”

“Are you sure it’s because he doesn’t want to follow you anymore?”

“Shut the fuck up, and mind your own business!”

Till lashed out at the other student. Before even seeing the other’s reaction, Till turned around, stomping away, his teeth gritting against each other in fury. It’s not because Ivan doesn’t want to follow him anymore, for fuck’s sake.

Till looked around, and instead of searching for his pencil, he was searching for a black haired boy that occupied and made all of his thoughts infuriating.

Till spotted Ivan sitting against the tree in their usual spot since forever. The big tree in the corner of the playground.

“Hey, idiot.”

Ivan’s eyes rose up instantly when he heard Till’s voice. He smiled innocently.

“Oh, hi, Till. Did you find your pencil yet?”

“You better help me fucking search for it. Like, right now.” Till blurted out, trying to sound annoyed as much as possible.

“I thought you wanted to search for it alone.”

“Fine, fucker! If you’re that fucking lazy, don’t—”

“I’m kidding. Of course I’ll help you search for your pencil.”

Ivan widely smiled, as he got up. Till groaned and crossed his arms.

“Fuck you.”

“Let’s go search for it.” Ivan replied, ignoring Till’s cursing.

They did a tour of the whole giant room, but in vain. Little did Till know that his pencil was just in Ivan’s pants’ left pocket. Ivan didn’t bother giving it back yet, since he was quite enjoying walking around with Till. The other students would stare at them as they passed by. It felt nice. It felt like making everyone know that they were close, in a way.

It felt… romantic, was that the word? Yes, romantic.

────────────────────────────────────

“Someone probably stole it. Tch, the audacity… what a fucking asshole.”

Till sat down slumpily against the tree with a tired sigh. They had been walking around for at least two hours now.

“If someone really stole it, what would you do if you found the person who stole it?”

“I’d probably beat that asshole to a pulp. Depends.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

Ivan sat down, next to Till. He looked at Till. Light gray hair, simply beautiful teal eyes, and the dreamy look in them whenever he was lost in his thoughts— Ivan could admire Till forever. He then looked up at the painted blue sky. Ivan broke the silence.

“Do you believe in God?”

“The hell? No, just stop talking.”

“In the past, humans believed in God and had religion.”

Till let out an exasperated sigh in annoyance. ‘I’ll just let him talk all by himself, maybe he’ll shut up afterwards.’

“Things that cannot be solved by human power were believed to be God’s will.”

Ivan played with a tiny piece of fake grass between his fingers.

“They believed that the entire universe revolved around the Earth.”

“That’s just fucking ridiculous.”

“They thought that the place that connected with the sky, which they could not reach, was the place where the gods lived.”

“Just get to your fucking point.”

Ivan ignored Till’s hurried answer.

“From the moment humanity left the universe, we all forgot God.”

Ivan glanced up from the piece of fake grass he was fiddling with. His gaze landed on Till.

“But if belief in God is human, if all I can do as a human is to believe…”

Till looked up, feeling the intense stare on him. He looked at Ivan, meeting the ebony, deep pair of eyes that felt like they were piercing through his soul. He blushed in embarrassment. ‘What the hell was this idiot on now?’

“H-hey, why are you staring at me?”

Ivan ignored Till’s question. Instead, he leaned in closer to Till’s face.

“My god.”

Till realized that Ivan was leaning in, closer and closer, until he backed away in reflex.

“H-hey, w-wait, wait!”

Ivan leaned in even more, ignoring Till’s protests. He looked in his eyes with a longing, admiring gaze. Ivan’s voice was soft— beautiful, even– and almost hypnotizing. Till hated that.

“My universe.”

Till tried to back away a bit more, but he got caught between the tree and Ivan. He blushed even more in nervosity at their unusual proximity.

“B-back off! Get the fuck away from me!”

Ivan closed his eyes. Instead of leaning in even more— which would’ve resulted as a kiss— He threw his arms around Till’s body, drowning him in his embrace. He didn’t hug him too tightly, just enough so that he couldn't escape his hug.

Oddly, Till didn’t say anything.

Instead, he froze completely, as if surprised by Ivan’s sudden action.

“Idiot, I’m not your fucking plushie or something, get off me.” Till scowled.

“But you’re so soft, it brings me comfort. Don’t let me go.”

Till suddenly felt a pang of guilt. His whole body tensed up. A faint imagery of a red sky burning with shooting stars crossed his mind. The void in his hand filled with Ivan’s tight hold. He didn’t want to think about it.

“Just get off me, idiot.” Till blurted out. Despite his efforts to sound as irritated as usual, his voice came out a bit weaker than he intended to be.

Ivan didn’t budge. As expected, if Till was being honest.

Till didn’t bother trying to get Ivan off him. He simply frowns quietly, as Ivan’s arms are wrapped around him. It brings him an odd feeling of comfort too, but never in hell would he ever admit that to Ivan.

At least for now.

Chapter Text

“Yesterday, Till and I hugged each other.” Ivan proudly admitted to the pink haired girl that was attentively listening to Ivan’s description of his shared moments with Till from yesterday. 

She smiled friendly, ignoring Sua’s discreet tug on her sleeve that seemed to infuriatingly say ‘Can we go somewhere else without Ivan?’ 

“Well, that’s great!”

Ivan widely smiled, putting his oddly charming snaggletooth on display.

Sua sighed, as she started to delicately play with Mizi’s hair, combing it with her fingers and braiding it. “Ivan, if you don’t have anything to say, I suggest you go back to playing with Till. You don’t want to leave him alone, do you?”

“Hey, I heard my name.”

The trio turned around to see a boy behind them with messy gray hair, standing over them, his teal eyes taking in a gleam of sudden sparkles when he saw Mizi. His cheeks slowly turned pink— it was barely noticeable, but Ivan had noticed it.

“Oh, hey, Till!” Mizi flashed him with a friendly smile, as she waved. 

Till’s tone immediately shifted when Mizi greeted him. 

“H-hey Mizi!” Till blurted out, slightly stuttering the first word. He hasn’t really talked to Mizi since the water bucket incident. He was still highly embarrassed by it, but he still wished she had forgotten that day. He mentally cursed himself for fumbling with his words. He must’ve seemed like an idiot in front of Mizi.

Deep down, even if Ivan wasn’t the reason Till was in such a flustered state, he still found that side of Till rather adorable. It was rare, and a big contrast to his usual demeanor— resilient, strong, and determined— but whenever he saw Mizi, Till’s cheeks would turn in a beautiful tint of light berry pink, and his eyes would lighten up with some sort of sparkle in them, as Till stared at Mizi, who was smiling particularly lovingly to the short black haired girl right by her side— giggling like two soulmates reunited, like two puzzle pieces who had found their perfect other piece. Ivan’s heart suddenly felt like it was as heavy as a pair of handcuffs. It felt like his heart dropped onto his stomach and made it twist, quite literally. 

Ivan wasn’t jealous of Mizi because Till loved her and not him, but because unlike himself, Mizi had reciprocated love. Something that he could only imagine whenever Till was slightly more vulnerable and searched for comfort in Ivan’s arms during his lowest points. It was almost selfish, but a twisted part of Ivan didn’t care.

“Hello, Till. I was just about to go find you.” Ivan said, as he got up, walking towards Till. “Let’s go, I don’t think Mizi and Sua want to be bothered.” ‘And I want you to only focus on me, spend time with me only, but that isn’t the point.’

Sua quickly agreed as she nodded, leaving only Mizi in a slightly perplexed state.

“Well, have fun, Ivan and Till! See you both later during the afternoon singing session.” Mizi smiled, as she enthusiastically waved to the two boys, one of them being dragged by the other— not by his own will.

“Yes, we will. See you both later too.”

Ivan smiled politely and widely, as Till’s sleeve was being dragged away by Ivan. Till tried waving bye to Mizi, but he didn’t know how to, practically melting at the sight of her smiling at him. He was too nervous. He ended up blurting out a quick, rushed, flustered reply.

“Bye, M-Mizi!”

Till almost tripped as Ivan forcefully dragged him elsewhere in a corner, precisely where their usual spot, under the tree, was.

“Hey, I can walk by myself, idiot!”

Till’s blushing face was replaced by the usual irritated expression he wore on his face whenever Ivan did something. Ivan smiled, as he let go of Till’s sleeve.

“Walk by yourself, then.”

At the sudden absence of tugging on his sleeve and the lack of support, Till almost fell face first on the ground, before he managed to keep his balance at the last minute.

“Y-you bastard!”

As usual, Ivan was unfazed by Till’s swearing, simply continuing to walk towards the big tree in the corner where they’d always hang out. Till reluctantly followed despite the infuriating irritation he was feeling.

──────────────────

Till’s pen scratched over the white canva of his sketchbook’s page, forming round shapes until they turned into flowers. 

Ivan stopped looking over Till’s shoulder. Instead, he leaned against the tree, and broke the peaceful silence.

“You know, I just found out this morning that I actually have a birthday, in a way.”

“What?”

“It’s on the 14th of February.”

“Cool.”

Ivan was waiting for a different kind of answer— not that he expected Till to actually remember what he was referring to, anyways.

Till absentmindedly sketched on his sketchbook as usual, doodling small sketches of flowers. He was adding some additional thin, dark leaves to the stems.

“Remember what we talked about the other day?”

“Be precise, idiot.”

“You said you’d think about trying to make our lips face each other when it was my birthday.”

Till didn’t reply. He quietly continued to sketch anything that came up in his mind.

Ivan persisted, as he noticed that he hasn’t gotten a reaction out of Till yet.

“You know that the 14th of February is tomorrow, right?”

Till swore he almost choked on his own saliva in his throat, as he cracked the pencil lead of his mechanical pen by accident, tracing a small, dark charcoal line on the last flower he was drawing.

“I-I said I’d think about it! It doesn’t mean we’re actually gonna do it.”

“But I gave you a birthday present last year. You should give one back to me. It’s the basic thing to do for friendships.”

“We’re not friends.”

“We are.”

“We are?”

“Yes.”

A moment of silence followed Ivan’s answer. Till lifted his eyes to look at the fake grass beneath his feet. He plucked one small strand of the synthetic grass to play with it, swirling it delicately between his fingers, distracted. 

“I didn’t know we were friends- I mean, you just never said it- like- officially.”

“I thought it was obvious by now.”

“It doesn’t make you less of an idiot, though. Idiot.”

“But it means that you have to give me a birthday present too, since we’re friends.”

“Fine. But not the ‘lips facing each other’ whatever thing.”

“But that’s the only gift I want for my birthday.” ‘Since your love is not something you can just suddenly give to me.’

Till didn’t reply. He went back to doodling anything that came up in his mind. A sketch of two people close to each other, face to face, slowly started shaping itself as Till’s pencil moved instinctively. It started to look more and more like their noses were caressing each other, like their lips were—

Till scribbled aggressively on it as soon as he realized what he was drawing.

Ivan peeked. He could still see the sketch beneath the harsh black lines Till had drawn over it, as if trying to mask whatever he had sketched. Ivan smiled.

“It’s a pretty drawing. You draw people so well.”

“Shut up.”

“Were you trying to draw you and me? If so, you should make the shorter guy’s lashes longer. You have longer eyelashes than you think you do, you know.”

Till’s face colored itself into a deep red, full of embarrassment, fury, and maybe slightly flattered by the compliment— as he poked Ivan’s forehead with the eraser top part of his pen angrily.

“You idiot! No!”

Ivan smiled at the fraction of a second when he felt Till’s gaze on him, even if it was an infuriated look in his furrowed eyes. He slightly winced, as he softly rubbed the red spot on his forehead where Till had poked him with his pencil. He hopes it stays red and scars.

Ivan tried to make conversation with Till again, after a short moment of awkward silence.

“Remember when you used to make flower crowns all of the time?”

“What about it?”

At Ivan’s question, Till suddenly reminisced about the times when he had spent so much time crafting red, delicate flower crowns, to which he’d shyly gift to Mizi— just for the girl to giggle and put it on her other friend’s head, Sua, jokingly. Sometimes he’d felt left out with those two girls whenever they were together, but it’s because they were closer friends than Till and Mizi were. Right?

Ivan looked at Till, his gaze this time trying to mask a tiny, faint glimmer of vulnerability. It was dreamy, it was almost the way Mizi had looked at Sua whenever they were alone, just the two of them. But he couldn’t compare him and Till to those two girls. They were very different. They loved each other .

“I learned how to make flower crowns because of you.”

“Okay…?”

“I always gave mine to you.”

“I know.”

“But you never gave yours to me.”

“Why would’ve I given them to you?”

Ivan didn’t know what to answer, so he replied with the same excuse he used over and over, just to stay close to Till and spend time with him. It wasn’t how he exactly perceived Till, but it was better than just merely acquaintances.

“Because we’re friends.”

“Okay.”

“So will you make me one since we’re friends?”

“I don’t have time right now, just shut up!”

“But will you make one later, when you have time?”

“Fine, for fuck’s sake! If it’s going to make you shut up, then fine.”

Ivan didn’t need to word another response, as he smiled satisfiedly. He glanced at the drawing Till was focusing on. This time, he was drawing a different kind of flower. It was the kind of flower he saw in the documentary books Unsha let Ivan borrow from the library chamber that was close to his owner’s work office. It was a flower that used to grow on the planet where humans used to live. It could have white, ivory, graceful white, or pretty light pink, or blood red petals. It symbolized multiple things depending on the color— one of them was love.

Roses.

“Where’d you learn to draw those types of flowers?”

“I saw those in a fake garden once.”

“Oh. It looks like you.”

“The fuck you mean?” 

“It’s pretty.”

“Stop saying weird stuff like that!”

Till rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t help but feel his cheeks growing slowly hotter at the compliment. Pretty? Wasn’t that something to say to girls? Till never really thought of how he looked to others— if he was handsome, ugly, or just average— but he never heard someone call him pretty . 

Ivan smiled at Till’s silent reaction. He wondered if Till’s cheeks were as pink as when he was with Mizi.

‘Pretty.’ , Till thought. Ivan called him pretty.

Maybe Ivan’s honesty didn’t always piss him off. It didn’t mean that he enjoyed the compliment that much or something either. Well, Till was mostly just trying to lie to himself.

Till huffed, as he repeatedly nudged Ivan’s arm away that tried to wrap around him. Even though that idiot was being annoying as hell, Ivan wasn’t that bad. It was because of Ivan that Till was never alone, after all. Till sighed, as he gave up trying to push away Ivan— the black haired boy was far too stubborn to stop trying to wrap his arm around Till, pulling them closer.

Till continued to draw, trying to ignore Ivan’s proximity. Whatever.

Maybe he’ll reconsider that birthday gift for Ivan tomorrow. Maybe.

Chapter Text

“Hi, Till.”

“Hey.”

Ivan sat down next to Till. His eyes glanced upon the messy haired boy who was playing with the edge of his eraser, poking in it with his pencil. Till looked as beautiful as always.

“Don’t you have something to say to me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Don’t tell me you forgot already.”

Till’s expression went from utterly confused to realization for a fraction of a second. He quickly replied, as if refusing to admit that he hadn’t realized what Ivan was talking about.

“Happy birthday.”

Ivan smiled— it was a smile between a satisfied quiet smirk to himself and a genuine one.

“Did you think about it?”

“Your birthday? I guess.”

“I meant my birthday gift.”

“Well, I thought that I’d give you my today’s meal, but I figured your rich owner would’ve already planned something bigger for you—”

Till’s cheeks colored themselves instantly, pinker than they were before— Ivan swore he saw it— as he realized what Ivan was implying. “I thought about it and I decided I don’t want to.”

Ivan’s happy smile turned into something resembling either a flat line or a slight pout, enough of his face to say that he was clearly disappointed with Till’s reply. His snaggletooth protruded from his closed mouth, pressing against his lower lip.

“Why not? You’re going to ruin my birthday.”

“What?”

“I’m going to be sad, because you don't want to give me my birthday gift.”

“Hey, stop pouting already! I’m gonna find you another gift.”

“But the only gift I want is to touch your lips with mine.”

Ivan’s voice turned slightly upset and a bit less calm than it was normally, falling half a pitch lower.

Since when was Ivan’s voice so low anyways?

And that sentence wasn’t supposed to sound so oddly stomach tickling, it wasn’t supposed to send soft shivers all over Till’s body until it made him realize how dry his lips became so he had to nervously lick them.

That feeling made Till even less willing to give in to Ivan's request.

Ivan’s furrowed brows softened up, matching the playful smirk on his lips. He moved a centimeter closer to Till. His eyes weren’t looking at Till the same way he’d always look at Till— he was now looking at Till from upwards, his eyes gazing down on the light haired boy, as if daring him to do something.

“I bet you can’t kiss me because you’re too scared to.”

And he knew that his new tactic worked the second he saw Till’s fists clench around his pencil. His focused gaze on his drawings was now a glare capable of piercing anyone if they ever looked at Till, except of course— for Ivan.

“I’m not scared to kiss you, fucker!”

Till got up, as he stomped on the soft, fake grass ground. It hurt a bit since it was only a plain hard glass-like floor under the synthetic grass, but Till would never admit it. The faint feeling of the grass strands brushing against his feet slightly tickled them.

“Then prove it.”

Those three words fueled something in Till— it was a feeling that burned his insides in frustration, determination. There’s no way he would let Ivan think he was right! 

Which is why Till replied impulsively with the answer Ivan was expecting.

“Fine, I’ll prove it, you idiot!”

It took exactly three seconds for Till to actually realize what he was implying— he was only giving in more and more to Ivan’s true intentions. 

But it was too late to back out now, no way he was gonna let that smug looking fucker grin in his face as if he wasn’t actually going to do it. 

Till’s eyes darted to Ivan’s eyes, and then quickly to his lips. He had never looked at them so thoughtfully or so carefully. Till tried imagining what it would feel like, seeing them from up close, face to face, and to then touch them with his own—

Till’s cheeks burned with the embarrassment of those thoughts, for some reason. He didn’t know if it was nervosity, disgust, or flusteredness.

Till quickly erased that last option of his thoughts. 

Noticing Till’s lasting stare on his lips, Ivan smiled, and got up. He took one step towards Till, and then another one, and then another one, until he was face to face with the gray haired boy. Teal eyes flickered to the ground, and then to the sky blue walls behind Ivan. Purposefully avoiding the obsidian haired boy whose smiling face was now back in his usual modest, neutral expression.

“Kiss me if you aren’t scared then.”

Ivan stared deeply into the other’s eyes, as if trying to decipher Till’s thoughts. The turquoise eyes stared back at him, barely blinking, as if trying to hold a staring contest.

Without saying anything, Till leaned in closer, his shoulders slightly tensing, his brows furrowing softly, his fierce gaze focused on his reflection in the pair of crimson red pupils. Ivan’s eyelashes seemed longer, thicker from up close— and for a split second, Till thought he could understand why some alien praised him not only for his skills and obedience but for his physical attraction level too. That thought was swiftly pushed aside as he realized Ivan was slowly leaning in too. Ivan was leaning in more confidently, his shoulders relaxed, his hands at his sides itching to brush a strand of gray hair that fell across Till’s right eye— even though he still looked awfully beautiful with that delicate detail bringing out even more the intensity of the peacock turquoise of Till’s eyes.

Their noses were threatening to touch each other’s, and as Ivan blinked, Till swore he felt the air brush against his face from Ivan’s fluttering lashes when he blinked. None of them closed their eyes yet, as if trying to see who would close theirs first. Who would back out first.

Until Till pushed himself against Ivan, his lips clumsily pressing against Ivan’s.

The two boys still stared into each other’s eyes, as they kept their lips pressed together. Till could feel Ivan’s snaggletooth poking his lower lip, Ivan’s arm that slowly wrapped around his waist and back, and his eyelashes tickling his.

Till immediately pulled away after a few seconds, his lips exposed to the fresh air again. He pushed Ivan’s arms that were around his body away, and he wiped his mouth with the side of his right arm’s long sleeve. Flustered, he faked a cough and a retch, as if ashamed to think that it hadn’t been so bad to kiss Ivan. For a moment, it felt warm. Intimate. Too intimate.

Till looked away from Ivan’s grinning, wide smile. It wasn’t the kind of smile he acquired from his image making practices.

“I can’t believe I did this just now!”

“Thank you.”

“Weirdo.”

“You gave me the best birthday gift.”

“Just shut up, don’t mention it! It’s annoying—”

“This is the best day thanks to you.”

Till rolled his eyes, but couldn’t help but notice how Ivan had genuinely seemed happy. 

Till turned his head around even more to hide the corner of his mouth curling up into a soft smile.

Something that leans on Till’s back disturbs the calm silence. He feels soft strands of hair against the right side of his neck, on his shoulder. Arms wrapping around him from behind. His smile dissipated into an angry shout.

“Get off me, idiot!”

“Just let me feel your warmth for a second. It’s my birthday.” Ivan whines, still clinging to the other boy who was furiously trying to remove Ivan’s arms slowly wrapping around Till’s whole body.

“You’re using your birthday as an excuse for everything! I already gave you your birthday gift—”

“I heard that my birthday used to be a date when humans confessed to their loved ones or spent time with them.”

Till gave up trying to fight back, as he reluctantly gave in Ivan’s overwhelming embrace. He felt Ivan’s slow heartbeats on his back. Warm breaths caressing the side of his neck. He was used to it now.

“So what?”

“I love you, Till.”

“Stop joking around, you loser!”

“You can’t call me a loser, because if you do, you’re also a loser.”

“Shut the fuck up!”

Till angrily huffed and turned around, and aggressively shoved Ivan’s arms away from his waist. Their eyes met for a second— burning, irritated, beautiful teal eyes, and onyx black, dark crimson smiling eyes.

When Till fully turned around, Ivan pushed Till, his hands on his shoulders, resulting in them landing face to face onto the ground. Till winces at the grass hitting the side of his face, but Ivan doesn’t flinch, falling onto Till’s lap.

“Make me.”

“You’re insufferable! Get off me, you’re heavy.”

“I am? I guess my daily workout paid off well!”

“I didn’t ask for your daily rich ass student routine.”

Ivan chuckled against Till’s chest, a silk smooth sound that softened Till’s furrowed eyebrows.

“You don’t work out?”

“Spending time with you is enough, trust me.”

“We should work out together. I’ll ask Unsha, he said he’d let me bring a guest whenever I wan—”

“I’m not interested.”

“Oh. Alright then.”

Ivan adjusted his head, still resting on Till’s body. He placed his head on top of Till’s heartbeat, his eyes slowly closing to the peaceful, repetitive sound. He was surprised Till didn’t already literally shove Ivan away with a smack on his forehead.

“Hey, I told you to get off me already.”

“It’s my birthday.”

“You bastard— stop using that as a reason!”

“You’re comfortable.”

“I’m not a pillow!”

“I know. You’re a human.”

“You’re so insufferable, I swear to—”

“You said that already.”

“For fuck’s sake, just get off me! We can do something else, but just get the fuck off me.”

Ivan instantly raised his head and got up, sitting next to Till’s laid down figure. He smiled widely.

“Can we play rock, paper and scissors then?”

Till got up, stretching his back.

“That’s so boring. But fine.”

“The loser gets to kiss the other.”

“Haha, fine! I’ll probably— wait, what? ”

Till’s incredulous face turned to face Ivan’s smirking face— his snaggletooth was poking out, his brows furrowed in excitement.

“You agreed.”

“Wait, no, this is unfair!”

“You can’t take anything back when you agree to a condition, remember? You promised.”

“I never promised that!”

“You did, about six years ago.”

“That doesn’t count, you fucker!”

“It does.”

A silent followed. Ivan broke the silence, as always.

“I love you.”

Till grew silent. He didn’t know if Ivan was serious, or just joking around— he probably was, since all Ivan did most of the time was piss the fuck out of him and just annoy him in general. Though he’d never admit that Ivan’s presence was sometimes enjoyable. He felt oddly disappointed at the thought that Ivan was merely joking about his confession, but at the same time, he didn’t know if he could’ve returned Ivan’s affection.

“That was random as hell, fucker. Stop joking around.”

“I’m not joking around.”

Till was about to smack the shit out of Ivan, his fist already clenched out of anger at Ivan’s stubbornness to admit that was he was just joking around and stop Till’s heartbeats that were threatening to make his heart leap out of his chest— until he heard his denial that sounded convincing as fuck. What.

Till swore he almost choked on his own spit.

“What did you say?”

Chapter Text

Till didn’t know what was the weirdest, unusual thing that happened yesterday— the fact that he kissed Ivan on the lips , that he actually fucking got flustered when Ivan was around, or that the black haired bastard seemed to have confessed to him, claiming that he wasn’t joking.

Who the fuck would be crazy enough to randomly say ‘I love you’ so casually to someone else out of the blue, without any reason?

Till regretted having just smacked him and walked away for the next singing session. He should’ve asked all of the questions that were overwhelming his conscience since that moment. Now, it would be too awkward to go back on what happened the day before— and he didn’t want to think about it anymore anyways. But the burning thought still lingers in the back of his mind.

Why was he so nervous? Why didn’t he just yell at Ivan like he usually did? 

Till cursed himself, as the familiar tickling, warm feeling pooled in his stomach, a reminder that he felt like this the moment Ivan had said he wasn’t joking. But he surely was, right?

Till groaned in frustration at himself, trying to push aside the confusing things he was feeling. He let his head fall on the wall with a little thud, discouraged. He couldn’t believe that he had woken up earlier just because he was overthinking about yesterday. He decided to think it never happened.

Since it was too early to leave for the singing sessions at Anakt Garden anyways, Till turned to his plain, simple bed, and lifted up his covers, revealing a massive heap of objects under the bed, from sketchbooks, pencils and dirty erasers, to toys and random gifts he had gotten.  

Till took out one of his favorite comfort toys, a small wooden xylophone— his other favorite toy was a flute that Mizi had given him some years ago when he was younger— and started to lazily tap on the colored touches with the wooden stick that it came with. He played the same melody he had known since forever. Haunting, little high notes that reminded him of a warm, comforting hug in whose arms he felt safe.

That lullaby became a warm hug itself for Till now.

He didn’t know where he had heard this melody, but it was something that he played instinctively, as if it was etched in his memory. He vaguely remembered a tall, delicate figure that had its arms open, as if waiting for Till to run into its embrace. A faint voice humming this lullaby. The echoes of his own cries as he was being so suddenly taken away from that warm, safe embrace.

The more Till tried to remember, the more the memories were fleeting away from his grasp. 

Lost in his thoughts, his hands slowly stopped playing the melody, the lullaby dying bit by bit on its own, until a silence replaced the xylophone’s repetitive notes.

Ivan’s hugs often reminded Till of that figure, and he hated the odd bitter comfort that it would bring everytime the warmth would wrap around Till like a safe lullaby. It was the same almost loving warmth. It felt like love, but not the same love. He was confused. Maybe love was a word far too confusing for him. Too complicated to feel, to understand. If he had to understand how he felt, hate was easier than a word as vague as love.

Till put the xylophone on top of the sketchbook he usually always brought to Anakt Garden.

Even though Ivan was the one who gave it to Till, he cherishes it like a treasure.

──────────────────

“You brought the xylophone today.”

“Huh?”

Ivan’s eyes darted to the colorful wooden instrument, before pointing it with his finger. Till barely looked up from the drawing he was sketching. Another flower. “Oh, I brought it because I got inspired and maybe it would help me write a song.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t throw it away yet.”

“It’s still in good condition, so I didn’t.” Till didn’t mention that it was one of his favorite toys since he was young. Nor that he remembers that it was Ivan who gave it to him in the first place.

“I was the one who gave it to you, though.”

“So what?”

“...nevermind. I just thought you’d throw it away.”

Ivan slightly got up and discreetly sat closer to the other boy who was too focused on his drawing to notice. Till sighed and flipped the page of his sketchbook, drawing a new line on the blank paper. Ivan silently whined at the fact that he couldn’t have gotten one last peek at Till’s last drawing. 

“Do you wanna play rock, paper and scissors? We didn’t actually play last time.”

“No.”

“You agreed the other day, though.”

“Whatever.”

“You seem more spaced out today. Did something happen?”

Till accidentally cracked the pencil lead of his pen, as he frustratingly closed his sketchbook, and simply played with his sleeves. He hated how easily Ivan saw through him sometimes— he hated how it made him want to open up even more to that idiot whose usual smugly grinning face was now replaced by a genuine quiet look of concern. 

Till doesn’t think he’s ever seen Ivan this seriously concerned. Or maybe he just hasn’t looked at Ivan enough to have seen him like that before. 

“Nothing happened, I’m just tired.”

“But you’re always tired, so this isn’t a good excuse, Till.”

“I’m not always tired, idiot.”

“Your eyebags say otherwise.”

Self-consciously, Till looks away and glances at his reflection in a little puddle of water next to him. He groans, and sits back against the tree.

“Is it that bad?”

As badly as Ivan would’ve wanted to reply with his honest thoughts which were ‘No, you’re still the most beautiful person, even with your tired, dark under eyes and your messy hair strands that keep poking your face’ , he replied with a reply that wouldn’t earn him a weird stare and a hard smack on his forehead.

“It’s not that bad. You should still ask your owner to get you some eye cream.”

“Eye cream? The fuck is that?”

“Skincare.”

“Skincare…? You do fucking skincare?”

“I do, actually. It helps me maintain my appearance as a rising star and model in Anakt Garden like Unsha says.”

“What else does he give you? Personalized meals? A big bed and a nice room?”

“He does, actually.”

“What the fuck.”

Till grimaces, but he isn’t surprised by how spoiled Ivan is, given how he is literally worshipped by every alien that sees him.

“I can bring you some eye cream, they created a special formula that works for humans.”

“No fucking thank you.”

Till sighed, and put his sketchbook on the ground. Ivan nudged Till’s shoulder with his.

“You wanna play rock, paper, scissors now?”

“What’s up with the rock whatever game? You keep asking me! I said no.”

“Are you just scared of losing?”

“What the fuck? No!”

“If you don’t want to play, then that means you’re scared of losing.”

“You can’t just— say it like that!”

“I guess you’re too scared of losing then. Like owner, like pet.”

“The fuck did you say?!”

“Your owner often gambles with mine and he’s always scared of losing because he often does.”

“Don’t compare me to that disgusting piece of shit.”

Till kicked Ivan’s leg furiously, before sighing. “We can play, I guess.”

Ivan’s wincing eyes lit up as Till agreed, as he smiled widely before moving to sit in front of Till instead. He places his fist in front of him, and waits for Till to do the same.

“Rock, paper, scissors.”

As Till shows his fist as a rock, Ivan only lifts up his pinky, his index finger and his thumb. Till’s brows scrunch in confusion, as he tries to guess what the hell Ivan was doing, before the black haired boy declared his supposedly win with a big, satisfied grin.

“I won!”

“Hey, that isn’t fair, what the fuck is that?!”

“It’s rock, paper and scissors at the same time.”

“That doesn’t fucking exist, cheater!”

“When we were younger, you invented it when we used to play, remember? And you used to always win against me because of that thing you created.”

“T-that was a long time ago, it doesn’t count anymore!”

“It does. You said so before.”

“Fuck you!”

“Does that mean I won?”

“No, cheater.”

“If I supposedly cheated, then that means you were cheating this whole time when we were younger.”

“Shut the fuck up, it’s not the same thing!”

“It is.”

“Okay, fine, you won! Just shut the hell up, you’re annoying.”

Till groaned and took a handful of fake grass just to spitefully throw it away, before crushing it with his bare feet. Ivan picked up the strands of fake grass Till had just stepped on, making the younger boy grimace. Ivan sat down next to Till, discreetly shifting as close as possible. He fiddled with the handful of damaged synthetic grass, playing with it between his fingers. 

“Remember what the prize would be for the winner?”

Till rolled his eyes despite the sudden warm feeling pooling in his stomach at the exact moment when Ivan brought up that deal Till thought Ivan had forgotten, which, unluckily, wasn’t the case. Till didn’t know if he was more mad because of the stupid tickling odd feeling that kept making memories of a shared, fleeting, clumsy kiss, come back to his mind, or simply because of Ivan . Maybe both. Till tried to pretend he didn’t remember.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m sure you remember.”

“Nope.”

“Well, we agreed that the winner would kiss the other. On the lips. Like that other time on my birthday—”

“Okay, fine, I get it! I just don’t want to.” Till interrupted Ivan, before more embarrassing images of their previous kiss crept up in his mind.

“I didn’t know you were the kind of person who didn’t keep his promises.”

A glint of burning fury ignited in Till’s eyes. His brows furrowed, as he lashed out. If he gave that bastard his kiss, he would leave him alone afterwards, right?

“I— fine, I’ll give you your stupid damn kiss, idiot!”

Till turned around to face Ivan, his stare crossing the other boy’s. He quickly leaned in, placed his hands on each of Ivan’s cheeks, his fingers furiously cradling the other’s face, and looked down at his lips. Ivan instinctively leaned in too, since Till didn’t seem to move, simply staring in his eyes.

Till felt the warmth of their breaths against his skin, as he looked into his reflection in Ivan’s eyes. They both closed their eyes, and leaned in quickly. Ivan grabbed the back of Till’s head, and as he was about to meet Till’s lips with his, his cheeks feeling the warmth of Till’s hand embracing them—

A loud thud resonated in Ivan’s ears as he felt something bump on his forehead, before wincing in pain and opening his eyes. Till’s voice interrupted him before he could place his hand on his forehead to check for any bruises.

“You fucker— what the hell?!”

The hands that were holding the back of his head a second ago were now pressed against a bruised forehead— there was a small red bump. Till couldn’t deny that Ivan looked so stupid with a bruise right in the middle of his forehead. The gray haired boy’s frown faded and was being replaced by laughter. 

“You look so stupid now!”

Ivan blinked in confusion, as he repeatedly touched his forehead. “Is it that bad?”

“You look so fucking stupid with that red bump on your head, Ivan.”

Ivan flinched at Till suddenly saying his name, igniting butterflies in his stomach.

“You have one too. Does it hurt? It kinda does for me…”

Till’s eyes widened ever so slightly, as he placed a finger over the now sensible skin of his forehead, feeling a hard, slightly painful bump. He quickly rushed to see his reflection in a small puddle of water, a big, visible red spot on his forehead. He then sees Ivan’s head pop on top of his right shoulder in the water puddle, with an equally red bump on his forehead. He couldn’t deny that they both looked stupid as fuck next to each other while examining their bruise in the reflection of the puddle. Till groans and pushes Ivan away with the back of his elbow, to then slump against the tree, slipping on the trunk to finally sit down.

“This is all of your fault! Idiot.”

Till glares at the synthetic grass floor, and sighs.

“You were leaning in too fast.”

“I wasn’t! You were!”

“I was actually leaning in as slowly as possible while you were rushing.”

“Fuck off.”

It irritated Till that Ivan was still talking as calmly as usual, even with a stupid ridiculous red bump in the upper middle of his damn face— but Till wasn’t in the right position to mock Ivan with that with the same bruise on his forehead.

“I guess we can do it another time. You owe me a kiss.”

“Fuck no.”

“You do.”

“Whatever.” Till closed his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. Ivan would probably forget about it later.

Thing is, Till didn’t know it had become the principal thought that occupied Ivan’s mind.

Chapter Text

“What do you think me and Till are?”

Ivan laid back in the grass, contemplating the redness of the flower petals— how red they were, compared to Mizi’s bright pink hair. A pink full of innocence, naiveness, kindness, and shine, a flower that was so beautiful and that hadn’t even bloomed completely to face the cruelness of this world. Sometimes Ivan understood why Till liked Mizi so much. Her innocence was truly endearing.

Mizi let out a yawn, and replied, while crafting delicately a perfectly made small sized flower crown. Probably for Sua. “Well…  friends? Unless something special happened.” She giggled.

“Special?”

“Yeah. You know, something that friends wouldn’t do.”

“We kissed twice.” Ivan bluntly said.

Mizi’s widened eyes immediately looked up from the flower crown to Ivan. “What?! You guys kissed?!” She moved a bit closer to Ivan, and placed an index on her mouth. “I won’t tell anyone, so tell me the tea now!”

Ivan’s cheeks slightly reddened as memories flooded back in, but he kept his usual composed face. Till’s flowery scent, his beautiful teal eyes staring straight into Ivan’s, his delicate hair strands falling over his face like little intricate details that altogether made this boy even prettier, his warm breath against his, their lips caressing each other’s like a clumsy, soft embrace—-  No, he wasn’t supposed to daydream now. Daydreaming wasn’t his usual self anyway. Not in front of his best friend that was passionately waiting for him to explain what had happened. 

“We were playing, and—”

“Hello, Mizi!” Sua’s voice echoed behind the two of them, interrupting Ivan. The whispering duo looked up, their innocent faces hiding the topic of discussion they were having a while ago. Mizi’s eyes lit up as she got up and hugged Sua. As the two girls hugged, Ivan friendly smiled at Sua, but was only met with a flatly bored stare. It wasn’t not expected. Except for Mizi, Sua wasn’t as friendly.

“Oh, hello, Ivan.” Sua said, as she let go of Mizi. Her tone wasn’t as enthusiastic as when she had greeted Mizi, obviously.

“Hello, Sua.”

“What were you both talking about?”

“We were talking about how Ivan—”

“I’m going to go now, Till just arrived.” Ivan abruptly said, as he got up, flashed a smile to the two girls before walking away, his gaze now set on a certain boy with light moon silver hair. A red bruise on his forehead was there too, but it was now hidden by some messy bangs. The boy glanced at Ivan for a second, but immediately looked away as Till realized Ivan was intently staring at him.

“Till.” Ivan called out, as he catched up with the other boy who rolled his eyes.

“What do you want?”

“I just want to spend some precious time with my friend, of course.”

“Fuck off.”

“The way your eyes slightly twitch whenever you swear is amusing.”

“Just leave me alone, it’s morning, fucker.”

Till went to the same big tree in the corner, and slipped against the trunk, sitting on the floor. His teal eyes wandered off to Mizi in the distance, before darting to the little puddle next to him, staring at his reflection. He then saw someone else’s reflection next to him too.

“I said to leave me alone, Ivan.” Till pushed Ivan away with the back of his right elbow, only to have Ivan’s arms wrap around him on his shoulders from behind like a scarf. Ivan grinned.

“Friends are supposed to hang out, so let’s spend time together.”

“Get off me!”

“Are you ignoring me because we kissed?”

“D-Don’t bring that up ever again, idiot!” Till furiously kicked at the grass in frustration, unable to get Ivan’s arms off him. He let out a defeated sigh. Ivan’s grip was almost stronger than his owner’s.

“You still owe me one.”

“Owe you what?”

“A kiss.”

“Where the fuck does this come from?!”

“You promised.”

“No?”

“Yes, you did. And now you owe me a kiss.”

“The fuck? No I don’t!” Till grunted as he nudged Ivan with his elbows, purposely trying to get Ivan off him. 

As the pair of arms let him suddenly go, without any support, Till fell backwards, his back landing on the ground with a big thump— except it didn’t happen.

This moment was a simple, fleeting few seconds— and before Till could process what was happening, he felt two hands around his wrists, spinning him around, and then soft lips pressing against his, black hair strands tickling his forehead, and arms wrapping around his neck. It was only when Ivan had pulled away that Till had processed it all, cheeks burning with the realization and heart beating faster than it ever did before— even faster than the times Mizi would get close to him.

“You’re right, now you don’t owe me a kiss.”

“Y-you…” Till nervously mumbled, words unable to come out of his mouth— why the hell was he so nervous, why the hell did Ivan just kissed him like that—

“What?” A smirk etched itself on Ivan’s face, and that was enough to make Till furious. That arrogant, stupid smile— he was going to prove Ivan didn’t have the upper hand.

Till’s fists clenched, and as Ivan’s hands slowly let go of Till, the silver haired boy pulled them right back to wrap them around his waist, and wrapped his own arms around Ivan’s neck, pulling the obsidian haired boy into another kiss, furiously.

This time, the kiss wasn’t gentle like the other times.

Till’s lips burned with frustration and revenge, and Ivan stumbled slightly  as he had been pulled back into an embrace. Till felt Ivan’s snaggletooth pressed slightly against his lips. He bit Ivan’s lower lip before pulling back. A faint metallic blood taste lingered.

Ivan gasped for air, and the arms around his neck were pulling away as quickly as they had pulled him in. His widened crimson pupils stared at the furious turquoise eyes in front of him. 

What the hell had just—

“Don’t think that I’m scared to kiss you, fucker.”

Ivan didn’t answer. His cheeks as red as his pupils, he felt the blood on his lips where Till had bit. He still hadn’t recovered from what had just happened—- he hadn’t expected Till to retaliate. Not that he didn’t like it. In fact, he liked it so much that he wished the bruise on his lip would scar. Freak.

“You should kiss me more often then.” Ivan blatantly said, his eyes following Till’s figure that had gotten up and sat back down on the opposite side of the big tree. 

After licking the blood on his lips, Ivan peeked behind the tree, earning him an aimless kick that ended up brushing the air.

“You’re so weird, Ivan.”

“You’re weird too. You just bit my lip.”

“I’m not weird. Idiot..”

You’re weird, but in a good way. In a way that makes you so loveable and unique— but Ivan doesn’t say that.

“No.”

“Idiot.”

Till sighed, and glanced at Mizi in the distance. His gaze didn’t waver, and Ivan’s gaze on him didn’t waver either. Ivan discreetly sat down next to Till once more on the other side of the tree, trying to be as small as possible for once so that Till wouldn’t go away again. He observed the way Till was dreamily staring at Mizi— even if he hadn’t looked in the way Till was looking, he would’ve already guessed. 

Ivan wished he was the subject of affection of anyone— anyone, and he would’ve given them a chance.

It was ironic for Ivan that his birthday was on Valentine’s day. When he had found out, he had bursted out laughing, mocking the cruelness to discover that he was adopted on a day consacred for love—- when he had never experienced receiving love itself before. That night, the only thing that had consoled him was that there was a possibility to get Till to kiss him on his newly found birthday. Who knew he would’ve actually gotten to kiss Till more than twice.

Funny how Ivan had kissed Till many times, and yet he isn’t even sure about the other boy’s feelings, or even his own. He could often see through Till’s feelings— whenever he was filled with unsease, or whenever he was scared, or at it most vulnerable— but never his affection.

For the first time, Till’s voice cut through the silence, softer than ever.

“Her hair is so pretty, isn’t it?”

Ivan’s silent stare lingered a bit on Till’s softened features, before wandering to a brightly smiling girl in the distance, her laugh echoing like sparks of hope as if she didn’t have a single care in the world, as she ran around with Sua. His gaze fell back on Till.

“Your hair is pretty too.” Ivan says, without thinking. Not that he ever thought so much before saying something.

Till’s softened gaze stayed unwavering, as if he hadn’t realized what Ivan had said. “What did you say?”

“Your hair is also pretty.” Ivan repeated, as he admired the beautiful, messy, pale silver hair that fell over Till’s face like feathers embellishing a dress. To some, Till looked chaotic, to others that looked more closely, he actually looked simply handsome and oddly artistic, and to Ivan, he looked pretty. Pretty was a word that reunited all of the words Ivan couldn’t say when he had to describe Till’s appearance. 

Till’s brows scrunched as his cheeks reddened even more, his gaze falling to the side, no longer staring at Mizi. “Stop saying weird stuff like that.”

“It’s not weird, it’s true.”

“You’re the only person who ever said that, so I doubt it.” Till’s face softened once again as his thoughts seemed to wander somewhere else as he claimed Ivan was the only person to have ever said that. Distant memories.

“Maybe it’s because I’m the only person who has been honest so far.” 

Till curled up into a ball and rested his head on his knees, as he wrapped his arms around them. “...thanks, Ivan… I guess.”

“What happened to calling me idiot ?”

“Do you want me to call you an idiot? Idiot.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Ivan mimicked Till and curled up into a ball as well. The silence after wasn’t awkward like after most of their conversations— it’s soothing, almost, in a way. It felt as if Ivan could’ve stayed in that peaceful moment forever. It was almost intimate. Ivan was always next to Till, but never always felt as close to him as right now.

Till’s eyes wandered back to a pink haired girl in the distance. Ivan’s eyes were already on Till. Till’s face softened once more.

Till was achingly pretty whenever his face rarely softened. The crease between his brows would disappear completely, the corner of his lips would curl softly into almost a smile, his usual fierce gaze would turn to a smitten one and his cheeks would turn blush— not too red, but enough to notice the subtle romantic rosy color. In that instant, Till looked as if he was simply contemplating the beauty of this world.

Except that his world was Mizi.

Little did Till know that he was someone else’s entire world too.

Chapter Text

“What are you drawing?”

The silver haired boy didn’t answer. The only response was the sound of a pencil on paper. Ivan leaned onto Till’s shoulder and peeked over the sketchbook. A glimpse of short hair. Since when did Mizi have short hair? Or maybe it wasn’t—

“You bastard, get off me!” Till yelped, cheeks flushed as he threw a kick to Ivan’s stomach, pushing him to the ground. Ivan groaned, but didn’t get up. 

He was far too distracted by what he had just saw on Till’s sketchbook. 

A drawing of him.

Noticing that Ivan wasn’t getting up to try to sit next to him again like he always did, Till’s eyes softened with a glimpse of concern. His brows were still furrowed, and he still looked annoyed, but somehow, a bit softer with worry.

“Hey, idiot, you okay?”

This time, Ivan is the one who doesn’t reply. He stares at the sky, dumbfounded. He might have been smiling unconsciously since a few minutes.

Till got up and crouched next to Ivan. “Hey, I asked if you’re— Why are you laughing?!”

Ivan widely smiled at Till, and Till’s heart may have squeezed a bit by seeing how beautiful— how happy Ivan had looked in this moment. The last time he had seen Ivan truly smile like this— so brightly and innocently— was five years ago, under a crimson sky filled with stars and hope.

His little snaggletooth wasn’t helping either. Not that Till had noticed that detail. Not that Till had been noticing every detail about Ivan, enough to memorize and draw Ivan out of pure memory without having to even look at him. Because the vivid reminiscence of their kisses together, face to face, so close that Till’s lashes were fluttering against Ivan’s, was enough to make Till remember how Ivan exactly looked like during that moment.

The thought of it had Till’s heart pounding in a second.

No, Mizi had his heart skipping beats. Not Ivan.

Then why was it that Till always felt so safe— despite the annoyed mask he may put on at all times with him? Every time Ivan leaned on him, it always felt familiar. All too familiar.

It felt like the comfort he had always received from a distant figure in his dreams. A touch that was warm with love, that reassured him, and yet, from someone whom he couldn’t quite put a finger on. It was like a distant hug, and yet he could feel the warmness of it, every single time. One day, he had started dreaming of this figure as Mizi. 

But last night, when he had fallen asleep in his punishment cell, the figure who had held him dearly in his dreams wasn’t Mizi. It was Ivan. It felt like Ivan.

Despite all of those thoughts, all of those things happening to him— he couldn’t bear to admit that he maybe felt something for Ivan.

Till didn’t want to have someone else to be scared of losing.

As long as he remembered, Till had never lost someone— and yet, the feeling of grief felt like a familiar feeling that he had known all too well, as if he had experienced it before.

“Till?”

The second Till’s mind came back to reality and pushed aside his thoughts, he found himself still crouched over Ivan. Ivan wasn’t smiling anymore. His cheeks were wet with— water droplets?

Realizing his eyes were wet, Till hastily wiped off his tears. He couldn’t believe he had just let Ivan see him like that.

“Why are you crying?” Ivan softly asked, his voice softer than usual. He looked at Till with concern, as he sat up as well. “Till.”

“Sorry, I just- thought of- something. Nothing.” His voice was barely a whisper. Why couldn’t he get the words out? Why was he crying?

Till felt strong arms embracing him. He inhaled a sharp quiet gasp of surprise, as he tensed up. He slowly let go of the tension in his muscles as he recognized the— familiar?— comfort of the hug. It felt warm. Safe.

He didn’t ever want to let go.

Ivan’s hands softly and tentatively rubbed Till’s back— a hesitating attempt to comforting.

Till was scared. This was making everything worse.

Maybe he loved Ivan.

But maybe hatred was easier than a word as vague as love.

Chapter Text

Hiiii ^^

I just wanted to explain why I haven't been uploading this fic even though I said I would regularly.

I'm currently in my period of finals and my gf just broke up with me, so I'm still navigating though some emotions and trying to focus on exams as well.

Hopefully, I'll get back to this fic as soon as I can (after my finals, so in a week or two), and I hope you understand.

Thank you all for reading this fic (i love my babies, they're so stupid)!!