Archive of Our Own ^beta

It all happened so fast, like an explosion going off—one moment, they were on stage, the next, Till’s getting goosebumps because Ivan’s practically pinning him against a fucking toilet stall’s door.

How romantic.

Ivan’s mouth slid across Till’s sensitive neck, the older’s breath hitching. Till shivered. They were both losing composure. “Till.” Ivan groaned, pressing his knee between Till’s thighs. The grey haired man’s lips quivered, his eyes darting everywhere but to Ivan’s.

Till didn’t expect this to happen.

“You were so hot on stage, babe.” Ivan hummed, deep and throaty. “I need you. Right now .”

Till’s vision narrowed, he looked at the raven looming above him. His head buzzed like a rubber band pulled too tight. Maybe it was because of the concert’s agitating atmosphere. Or maybe it was the proximity. Or maybe it was the fact that Ivan’s growing erection against his thigh left little to the imagination.

“You’re serious ?” Till asked, condescension lacing his voice. He was stunned, more by the intensity of Ivan’s need rather than his own desire. Ivan tugged at Till’s shirt like it had personally attacked him.

Ivan’s only answer was to fist Till’s shirt, dragging him down until their foreheads knocked together. His breath was hot and shaky. “Please,” he muttered, eyes fluttering open, gaze wild.

Till adjusted his seat with a sharp movement, planting himself over the thick ridge of Ivan’s clothed erection.

“Do you want to fuck me?” Till asked, trying to twist the knife with his usual drawl.

Ivan’s cock jolted sinfully at the thought of actually taking Till whole; right here, right now. His face lit up. “Now?” The corners of his face turned upright, his eyes softening for just a second.

“Can you wait until we get home?” The younger asked, his teal eyes boring right into Ivan’s own. His cock twitched. “Hell no.” The raven panted, swallowing hard. He couldn’t wait one bit. One more second and he was going to tear Till’s pants off, though— he’s sure he’d get scolded, and maybe no fun for another few days.

“Hmm..” Till hummed, lips twitching. Ivan’s hand slid up against Till’s spine, The stall walls rattled with every shift of weight, cheap metal echoing the thud of Till’s heartbeat.

“Then you’ll just have to be quiet,” Till whispered against his ear, his lips ghosting over the shell. He rolled his hips once, slow and deliberate, grinding down until Ivan bit back a hiss.

“ Fuck— ” Ivan’s voice broke into a growl. His fingers fumbled for Till’s waist, clutching tight, pulling him closer as though he couldn’t stand a millimeter of distance.

Clothed friction sparked everywhere. Denim rasping against fabric, heat building where there should’ve been barriers. Every grind was torture, every press of hip to hip a reminder that they were teetering on the edge of indecency in the most indecent place possible.

Till smirked at the way Ivan’s jaw clenched, the way his composure shredded with each movement. “Look at you.” he murmured, brushing a thumb along Ivan’s cheek.

Ivan said nothing, craving the friction between him and Till. He pressed into the younger, desperately hoping for any kind of relief— He just wanted to fuck Till. Or have Till jerk him off. Both could work. Whatever Till wanted. Ivan’s hands were all over Till before he even realized it, desperate and demanding, like he couldn’t contain the need coursing through him.

The older found himself tracing a gentle path to the other’s mouth, heat following in its wake. Till’s lips felt so familiar— so .. safe. He felt the familiar heat pooling in his gut. A throbbing, aching arousal between his thighs that was waiting to be devoured. In a swift motion, Ivan pressed their lips together, Till exhaled into the kiss. He pulled Ivan into him, he let himself sink into the other’s embrace as his hips bucked against Ivan’s. The raven guides Till’s hand to his chest, pressing softly. The man nibbles at the younger’s bottom lip. He bites down, gaining a sinful sound from the other.

Ivan groaned when Till shifted again, the deliberate grind making his clothed cock twitch helplessly. He couldn’t keep still; his hips bucked up like his body was moving on instinct alone.

Till tried to play calm, slipping fingers under Ivan’s jaw. “You’re going to make a scene.”

“Don’t care,” Ivan hissed, sinking his teeth into Till’s neck. His hand shoved under Till’s shirt, searing hot against bare skin, taking what he wanted.

The stall was too cramped, too loud with their ragged breathing, but Till leaned in anyway, pressing their mouths together. The kiss that followed was wet and brutal, Ivan stealing every noise Till made, biting his lip until it throbbed.

When they broke apart, Ivan was already fumbling with Till’s belt, trembling hands tugging at the buckle. Ivan couldn’t wait another second. His hands were shaking as he pulled at Till’s belt, desperate to feel bare skin against his palms. Till groaned low, sliding a hand into Ivan’s hair, tugging gently but firmly, forcing his mouth to meet Ivan’s again.

Till tugged his hair, forcing their mouths back together, but Ivan was already steering the pace, dragging him down into his lap, gripping hard enough to bruise. When Till smirked, trying to push back—“You think you can handle me?” Ivan’s answer was a sharp thrust upward that stole the words from his mouth.

“Yes,” Ivan growled against his skin. “Yes. I’ll handle you. I’ll ruin you if you let me.”

“And you think you’re in charge?” Ivan sighed, hands roaming, tugging at Till’s clothes, the sheer intensity of his need radiating off him. “I’ll do anything. Please, Till. I can’t wait.” Ivan’s voice broke.

Till barely had time to smirk before Ivan finally yanked Till’s belt free, the clatter loud against the stall’s echoing metal. He shoved Till back against the wall, lips bruising as he kissed him again, sloppy and starving, grinding until both of them were panting.

Till gasped, but Ivan didn’t stop—he ground him down, holding his hips tight until the stall rattled.

Till tried to drawl something—probably another smug quip—but it caught in his throat when Ivan shoved his hand straight into his pants. Hot fingers wrapped around him without hesitation, squeezing hard enough to make Till gasp against his ear.

“Fuck,” Till hissed, bucking involuntarily.

Ivan smirked against his throat, stroking him rough, too fast to be gentle. “That’s it. You sound so much better when you’re not talking back.”

Till groaned, grabbing at Ivan’s shoulders, trying to ground himself as heat spiked low in his belly. He wanted to sneer, to bite back, but Ivan was relentless, hand working him while grinding his own cock up into Till’s thigh, desperate for friction.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous like this,” Ivan muttered, pressing his mouth to Till’s jaw, biting hard enough to make him gasp. He yanked his own zipper down, hissing as he freed himself, cock aching with the need to be inside.

Till smirked weakly, trying to cling to composure even as his thighs trembled. “In a bathroom, Ivan? Real romantic— ”

Ivan cut him off by hiking Till’s leg higher, pressing forward until the blunt head of his cock nudged against him. “ Shut up, ” he growled, voice breaking. “You’ll thank me later.”

Till’s retort dissolved into a shudder when Ivan pushed in. The stretch was sudden, rough, stealing his breath. His fingers clawed at Ivan’s shoulders, nails biting through fabric as his body yielded.

Till’s head thunked against the wall with every thrust, a helpless sound breaking free of his throat despite his best efforts. His smirk was gone, replaced with parted lips and raw moans Ivan devoured with every kiss.

“You feel… so good,” Ivan panted, driving into him harder, faster, like he could never get close enough. “I can’t—fuck—I can’t get enough of you.”

Till clung to him, body shaking with every deep snap of Ivan’s hips. His legs wrapped tighter around Ivan’s waist, giving in even as he tried to keep some bite. “You’re… insufferable,” he choked, but the words melted into a moan when Ivan angled just right, hitting deep enough to make his vision spark.

Ivan smirked against his mouth, swallowing the sound. “Say it again,” he demanded, thrusts growing frantic, “say it while I fuck you senseless.”

Till didn’t answer, he couldn’t. His voice broke, moans spilling out instead, and Ivan groaned like it was the only reward he needed.

The stall rocked with their pace, every thrust messy, loud, desperate. Ivan gripped Till’s hips like he was afraid to let go, fucking him like the world would end if he stopped.

Ivan’s hips stuttered, grinding harder, faster, like his body had taken over. His breath came ragged against Till’s mouth, the kiss breaking into gasps.

“Fuck—” he groaned, his grip on Till’s waist bruising. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t hold it back, not when Till’s weight was bearing down on him just right. The stall rattled under the force of it.

Till smirked, opening his mouth to tease, but then Ivan bucked hard, biting at his neck as his whole body seized. A strangled noise tore out of him, low and wrecked, as he spilled hot and messy. His trembling fingers dug into Till’s skin like he was drowning.

Till froze, still grinding against Ivan’s thigh, still so achingly close he could feel his own pulse pounding through him. His cock throbbed, leaking into his briefs, begging for more friction. But Ivan had gone slack against him, panting, boneless. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and sex.

“Seriously?” Till muttered, his voice shaky despite the sharp edge. His hips rolled once, needy, but it wasn’t enough, never enough.

“My bad, ‘m sorry..” Ivan muttered softly as Till bit down on his lip, frustrated. The ache between his thighs burned, unsatisfied, demanding. He pressed his forehead to Ivan’s, steadying himself with a slow inhale. They couldn’t go further. Not here. Not when the stall walls were rattling like tin and anyone could walk in.

“Guess you’ll just have to make it up to me when we get home,” Till whispered against Ivan’s lips, his tone low and dangerous. He shifted just enough for Ivan to feel the heat straining against his jeans, proof of how badly he’d been denied.

Ivan swallowed hard, nodding.

Till barely made it to the car, hips still twitching, underwear damp, every nerve singing with the memory of Ivan’s frantic need. Every red light, every jostle in the car reminded Till of Ivan’s desperate hips, his grip, his teeth. By the time the apartment door shut behind them, the tension was unbearable.

The door to Ivan’s apartment clicked shut behind them. Till leaned against it, chest heaving, still flushed from what had just happened in the bathroom. Ivan was already behind him, lips brushing the shell of his ear, hands roaming with the kind of greedy hunger that Till had thought he’d gotten out of his system in the stall.

“Finally,” Ivan groaned, lips ghosting over Till’s collarbone, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. “No more waiting.”

Till shivered, tilting his head back. “About time,” he murmured, voice low and ragged. His hands found Ivan’s shoulders, tugging him down just enough to steal a kiss, but Ivan was already taking control.

Till’s cock throbbed, straining against his briefs, heat pooling between his thighs. He moaned despite himself when Ivan’s hands slid under his pants, stroking him with deliberate, unrelenting pressure. Every tug, every squeeze, was timed to push him closer, but Ivan didn’t let him go. Not yet.

“You feel so good,” Ivan groaned, eyes dark with need as he leaned over him. “Tell me how badly you’ve been aching… for me.”

Till gasped, trembling, voice broken. “I… I can’t… I’ve been—”

Ivan cut him off with a sharp pinch, then a deep, commanding growl. “Say it. Say it right now. You’ve been aching for me, haven’t you?”

“Yes! God, yes!” Till cried, bucking into Ivan’s hands. “I’ve been dying for you!”

“Good,” Ivan rasped, pressing down harder, smirking at every gasp that escaped Till’s lips.

Till’s body convulsed as Ivan’s hands drove him closer, each stroke perfect, precise, relentless. Heat pooled, nerves screaming, until finally… Till shuddered, voice breaking, hips trembling, spilling fully into Ivan’s control.

Ivan leaned down, pressing his lips to the top of Till’s head, shushing him as he rode out the waves with him, still murmuring possessive, needy praise. Even after Till came, Ivan didn’t release him—holding him tight, still whispering, still claiming him, both of them spent and trembling in the aftermath.

Till was sprawled on the couch, limbs heavy, chest rising and falling like he’d been running a marathon. His hair was damp with sweat, sticky strands clinging to his forehead, and his flushed skin still thrummed from the intensity.

Ivan crouched beside him, brushing damp hair from Till’s face with surprising gentleness. “Hey.” he murmured, voice soft and low. “You did so well. Look at you… all flushed and trembling.”

Till hummed, leaning into the touch, eyelids fluttering. “I… I’m a mess,” he admitted, voice weak but teasing.

“You’re perfect,” Ivan said firmly, fingers tracing slow, soothing patterns along Till’s spine. “All mine. Come on, I’ve got a warm bath waiting. Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?”

Till groaned softly, letting Ivan help him to his feet. The younger’s legs wobbled, but Ivan’s hands were steady on his hips, supporting him like he was the most fragile thing in the world. “I, uh, I guess I’ll survive,” Till muttered, voice cracking into a tired laugh.

Ivan chuckled, lips brushing the shell of Till’s ear. “Of course you will, baby. I’ve got you.”

By the time they reached the bathroom, Ivan had already drawn the bath, steam curling into the air with the scent of lavender and warm water. He helped Till sit, then knelt to run his hands along Till’s shoulders and arms, testing the temperature and washing away the sweat, the remnants of their frantic sex.

“You feel so good, all soft and warm,” Ivan murmured, pressing gentle kisses along Till’s temple, down his neck. “I love you like this… like a doll I get to hold forever.”

Till let himself relax fully into Ivan’s care, eyes half-lidded, a soft sigh escaping him. “You’re ridiculous,” he mumbled, but his hand found Ivan’s, lacing their fingers together without needing to ask.

Ivan smiled, tightening the hold just slightly. “Maybe,” he said softly, voice low and possessive. “But you’re mine. Always.”

“You’re like a parasite,” Till scoffed, eyes still closed. The water lapped lazily at his skin, his head resting against the porcelain.

“Mhm. I am one,” Ivan murmured, brushing his thumb over Till’s knuckles. His voice was a strange mix of amusement and reverence.

Ivan tilted his head back, the corner of his mouth curling into a faint, exhausted smile. “I want to live in you like a parasite,” he whispered, voice breaking on the last word.

Till stilled, breath catching, something dark and hungry flickering behind his eyes. He bent closer, pressing his lips to Ivan’s shoulder. “Then do it,” he murmured. “Stay.”

“Crawl under my skin and never leave.”