Work Text:
Ivan wants.
He wants and wants and wants.
Wants to touch, to hold, to feel. Wants to speak, to say so much. Wants to consume, and to be consumed. Wants to be seen. It’s a selfish thing, really. Ivan may want these things, but that doesn’t mean Till does too.
To be loved is to be seen. Ivan may see Till, but that doesn’t mean Till sees him. It’s as simple as that.
“Sua,” Ivan begins one day. “Do you think pink hair would suit me?”
She responds with a light smack to the back of his head. “Are you serious? Absolutely not.”
Ivan tilts his head with a smile. “Perhaps I should go for glasses instead, then.”
It’s lunchtime on a Friday. He and Sua are tucked away on the school rooftop, sitting beneath the shade of the building leading to the staircase. They like to call it their secret hideaway, although they aren’t the only people to take comfort in the quietude up here. Today, however, they are alone, just the two of them and their lunches.
“Pink hair and glasses won’t mean that you’re suddenly a carbon copy of Mizi, you know,” Sua says, the way she always says things when Ivan starts talking crazy. “For starters, you could never be as pretty as her. It’s no wonder Till wants her, not you.”
“How cruel. Sometimes I think you forget I have feelings, you know.”
Sua remains unfazed, pointing her chopsticks towards him. “Sometimes I think you forget that Till has feelings. What was that stunt the other day with the flowers in his locker? You know he can be shy, and there were so many people around.”
“...I like seeing him flustered. I like the expressions he makes, and the way he turns red right down to his neck. It’s adorable.” Ivan steals a piece of chicken from Sua’s lunchbox. He takes a moment to chew it before continuing. “Don’t you enjoy seeing Mizi embarrassed because of you?”
“I do, but I prefer to keep that image to myself. I don’t need the whole school seeing what a cute face she makes.”
“I wish I could share that sentiment, but you know just as well as I do that getting him to pay attention to me when we’re alone is borderline impossible.” Ivan leans back against the wall. “So I do what I can to get him to notice me. If that means humiliating him, so be it.”
“See what I mean?” Sua sighs. She twirls a strand of hair around her finger, observing Ivan with those curious eyes of hers. A trait passed onto her from Mizi, Ivan thinks. “And don’t say that. He cares about you more than you think.”
Not in the way I want goes unsaid. Instead of lingering on that thought, Ivan directs his attention to his buzzing phone. His chest tightens when he sees it’s a message from none other than Till.
“Sua, Till messaged me.”
“Okay, and? Reply to him.”
“He almost never messages me.”
Sua raises an eyebrow. “What did he say?”
“If you’re free later, swing by my place. I have something for you,” Ivan reads aloud. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
A smirk forms on Sua’s face. “Sounds important. What if he’s going to confess his love for you?”
“Then this would have to be a dream.”
Without any warning, Sua pinches his cheek. “There, see? Not a dream.”
He chooses not to tell her that it didn’t hurt at all. “If he has something for me, why not just give it to me at school? This is strange.”
“Don’t overthink it, Ivan. Be happy that the guy you’re obsessed with is giving you some attention,” Sua says with a grin. Ivan can tell she’s enjoying this. “Want me to do your hair for you before you go? I have some pink dye at home. Oh, and I’m sure Mizi would let you borrow her glasses.”
“Oh, now you want to help,” Ivan laughs. He replies to Till with an I’ll be there and a sticker of a puppy wagging its tail. “Thanks, but maybe another time. Maybe I could wear one of your dresses as well.”
Sua nods approvingly. “Now that I think you could pull off.”
The rest of the day flies by. Ivan doesn’t have any afternoon classes with Till, unfortunately, so he doesn’t get to see him until he shows up on Till’s doorstep at approximately five o’clock. He’d gone home to change; on the off chance that something were to happen tonight, he at least wants to look nice.
“Hey, Ivan,” Till greets. Ivan notices immediately that something is off. He’s wearing the hoodie he often wears when he’s stressed about something, and his expression lacks the usual hostility directed towards Ivan. Instead, he almost looks… nervous. “Come on in.”
He leads Ivan to his room. It isn’t Ivan’s first time visiting, but being in a place that is so violently Till makes him restless. It’s a decently sized room, with a bed big enough to fit two in the corner by the window. The walls are covered with band posters and Till’s own artwork from over the years. Ivan’s favourite has to be one that he drew when they were about seven–it’s of the two of them holding hands in a field of flowers, and although it is rather messy, it remains dear to Ivan. It’s always nice to see that Till treasures it as well.
“So what did you want to give me?” Ivan asks, taking a seat on Till’s bed.
Till doesn’t answer. He rummages around in his desk drawer, eventually producing a piece of paper from inside a book. Ivan assumes he kept it in there to prevent it from creasing. Till makes his way over to Ivan, taking a deep breath before holding the paper towards him. “Here. This is for you.”
Carefully, Ivan takes it in his hands. It’s a drawing. Of Ivan. He’s sitting at a desk, gazing out of a window. And, oh, it’s absolutely stunning; it’s clear a lot of time and care went into the making of this. Every detail from each strand of hair to the slant of his eyebrows is perfect. For Ivan to have been captured so immaculately, the artist must have paid close attention to him.
How long has Till seen Ivan without him realising?
“...You drew this?”
Till nods. “Yeah. Is it okay? I don’t usually draw people, but I couldn’t help myself.”
“It’s perfect,” Ivan whispers. “But why? Why me?”
“Y-You see, I, uh…” Till takes a seat beside him, fiddling with the strings on his hoodie. “I wanted to make something for you, I guess. A song felt like overkill, so I went with this.”
A song? Why would he have thought of writing a song for Ivan? Gently, he sets the drawing down on the desk. He doesn’t want to risk damaging it. As soon as he gets home, it’s being framed. “But why? It isn’t my birthday.”
“Because, y’know, you’re important to me or whatever, and I wanted to tell you in some way…” Till mumbles. His cheeks are a rosy pink, and if Ivan didn’t know any better, he would think Sua had been right about what this is.
Nonetheless, Ivan’s heart skips a beat. “I am?”
Till slaps his hands against Ivan’s cheeks, pulling him so close that their noses are almost touching. “Do I seriously have to spell it out? I’m saying I like you, idiot!”
Ivan blinks. Till’s breath is warm against his face and smells faintly like the black coffee he always brings to school with him. From this distance, Ivan can see every bump and freckle that decorates Till’s skin. He has a barely visible mole just beneath his eye, concealed by the eyebags that seem to be permanently burned into Till’s face. When Ivan meets Till’s eyes, he can count every fleck of colour in them, can see how they shine with sincerity.
…Oh. He’s serious.
So Ivan does the only possible thing he can think of and closes the gap between them, his lips meeting Till’s surprisingly soft ones. Till lets out a quiet noise of surprise but quickly melts into it, squeezing his eyes shut tight. Ivan places his hands over Till’s, holding him as close as he possibly can. It feels as though he’s drowning–it could be his shortage of breath due to the kiss, or it could be the overwhelming sensation that comes with getting something he’s wanted for as long as he can remember.
He pulls away eventually, drinking in the sight before him. Till is as beautiful as ever, and though he may look a little stupid with his mouth hanging open and his red cheeks, Ivan finds it to be incredibly endearing.
“I like you too,” Ivan says. “So much. Too much, Sua tells me. She might be right.”
“T-That much was obvious. You never leave me alone; it’s weird as shit.” Till clears his throat, wiping his mouth with a hand. “But… I don’t necessarily hate it.”
Ivan bites his lip. “What about Mizi?”
“She’s got Sua. I can’t compete with that. I think I moved on from her years ago,” Till admits, scratching his cheek. “It just… took a while for me to see what’s been right in front of me all along. Sorry about that.”
Affection blossoms in Ivan’s chest. He wants to kiss Till again. It takes a moment for him to realise that he can do that now. So he does. And again, and again, until they’re both gasping for air and Ivan’s hair is a complete mess from Till running his hands through it. At some point Till had made his way onto Ivan’s lap; Ivan slides his arms around his waist to prevent him from trying to climb off.
“Wait a minute, let me catch my breath.” Till rests his forehead against Ivan’s shoulder, smoothing his hands over the strands of hair he ruffled. “God, you’re insatiable. I know you’re practically obsessed with me, but it’s like you’re trying to devour me.”
“Suppose I was,” Ivan murmurs. “What would you do then?”
Till is silent for a minute. Ivan fears he may have gone a little overboard, but then he finds his train of thought being cut off.
“I wouldn’t go down without a fight,” Till declares. He sits up so they’re eye to eye, and Ivan finds the red from his cheeks has spread down to his neck. “What if I wanted to devour you too?”
For the first time in what must be a while, Ivan can’t bring himself to continue looking at Till. He averts his gaze to the wall, hiding the bottom half of his face with a hand. “I’d let you.”
“That’s about what I expected.” Till takes Ivan’s hand in his and forces him to look at him again. He’s smiling, that brazen smile that he usually only wears after he’s killed a guitar solo on stage. “Y’know, you can be pretty cute when you wanna be. I like this side of you.”
“Don’t say that. You’re the cute one.”
“Who says we can’t both be cute?”
“I do. Objectively, you’re cuter. I’m the sexy one.”
“Excuse me? Are you saying I ain’t sexy?”
“...I never said that. You’re sexy too, Till.” Ivan kisses him again, this time a quick little peck that Till doesn’t even have time to reciprocate. “You’re a lot of things. But most importantly, you’re mine now.”
Till huffs out a laugh. “I don’t belong to anybody. But if it had to be someone, I guess you wouldn’t be the worst option.”
That’s enough for Ivan. Just being able to exist in the same world as Till, seen or not, has always been enough. But he isn’t ever going to complain about being something in Till’s eyes.
When he falls asleep that night with Till in his arms, he has a rather vivid dream. The two of them are kids again in an endless green field, rolling about as they exchange playful blows.
The scenery shifts and they’re running hand in hand across a hill. The sky is on fire, the shooting stars he’s come to love plummeting to the ground far from here. But then Ivan’s hand is empty, and all of a sudden he’s watching Till’s back retreat into the distance.
The question of if he will ever truly be seen plagues his mind until he feels as though he may go insane.
When he wakes up, Till is no longer at his side. Instead, he’s standing above him, unmoving and drenched from the rain. There’s a ringing in Ivan’s ears and a sharp pain in his torso.
Ah, that’s right. This is real life. That was no more than a dream. He wants to take one more look at Till’s face. Is he looking at him? Does he see Ivan? Ivan’s vision is quickly fading, so he can’t exactly tell. It’s alright, though. He got everything else he wanted.
Till will live. Ivan will not. And that is enough for him.