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Till has always been an easy crier. Like— a really easy crier.
So much so that all his peers always make fun of him for it. It's not his fault though, he's always been an emotional guy!
At the ripe old age of three he cried when someone took his favourite crayon to draw with.
At nine he started full on sobbing in the middle of class. All because his mom made his favourite lunch and it tasted extra good that day.
At the age of thirteen he cried at a sleepover in front of his long time crush because they were watching a sad movie. That time was not his fault, who the hell actually kills off the dogs in movies!
When he was fourteen he completely ruined his reputation on the first day of highschool by crying during introductions.
So on and so forth...
However, Till thinks he can count on one hand how many times he's seen Ivan cry. Because he would have zero fingers up.
Well, it was zero until recently.
It all started on February fourteenth, the day of love. Or for Till, the day he tries his best to skip school so he doesn't have to see couples making out in the hallways.
Till has obviously always hated Valentine's day.
It's not like he's ever been someone's Valentine so what's there to like?
He's never been confessed to by some cute girl in the halls.
Or received a note in his locker telling him to go to the roof top at the end of school.
Till has imagined on multiple occasions how she'd blush and hand him a card filled with her deepest desires. The cute and toothy grin she'd give him as she waited for him to accept.
Yet that day has never came!
And arguably, that's the whole point of the stupid holiday.
The closest he's ever gotten to a love confession is when he mistook a girl confessing to him. In reality she was actually handing him a card to give to stupid Ivan.
At this point Till is very much used to it. Plus, it's not like he doesn't see the appeal in his friend, he'd be stupid not to.
The guy's all lean muscles and tan skin from playing football all the time, yet he still manages to maintain the best marks of their entire grade.
He's been voted most likely to become valedictorian every since elementary and to top it all off, he's got those gorgeous midnight black eyes with crimson pupils that seem to just swallow you up.
Not that Till feels that personally of course. Till just obviously sees why every girl likes him!
They even call him the school heartthrob for Gods sakes!
But knowing and seeing all this doesn't make it hurt any less when girl after girl shoves letters at him all for Ivan. It's not even like Ivan even appreciates them anyways!
He just throws them away once he gets home. He'll keep the chocolate to feed his insane sweet tooth and maybe halve it with Till, but that's clearly only out of pity since Till never gets any!
The entire holiday is terrible, which is why Till has been having a horrible time.
The final bell rings out and Till sighs, shoving his art book and empty notes into his bag.
Every passing period has been spent with his head down as he walks like a ghost through the halls. Till would just like to make this clear, he is not jealous— he is scared.
He just knows that if he walks those halls with his head up he'll be bombarded with images of couples shoving their tongues down each others throats.
Just the thought alone sends shivers down Till's spine.
Forcing his notebookes into his bag has to be a little more strategic today. Obviously this is because he now has an additional six love letters, five boxes of chocolate, and the extra things Till brought with him to carry back to Ivan.
Leaving class is extra nauseating seeing as he now needs to push past random couples who find it romantic to hold hands while taking up the hole hallway. Because what screams romance if not exhibitionism with a dash of forced voyeurism!
Again. Still not jealous, just scared.
With his head low and music plugged in he's able to make it to the front gates without dying.
On the outside, that is.
There he sees Ivan stood waiting, giving an obnoxious wave as if Till wouldn't be able to see his 6'1 self from fifty meters away.
"Hi Till, did you receive any chocolates this year?" Ivan asks with a mocking grin. The dick head knows that Till's an outcast to guys and girls alike, not like Ivan who has girls begging him for a single glance.
If only they knew what an asshole he was.
"Obviously not." He replies with an eye roll.
"Really?" Ivan says in mock surprise. "Not even from dear Mizi?" He tilts his head and his big wide eyes make him look like a cute puppy. No wonder all the girls think he's innocent.
Till blushes at the mention of Mizi's name, "Of course she didn't."
Mizi is the sweetest girl on earth. A girl who just so happens to also be their childhood friend.
The aforementioned one who Till had a crush on and embarrassed himself in front of at a sleepover by crying so much he had to go home.
She is—as stated before—an absolute angel, so she's never looked down on him for it. Unlike a certain snaggle toothed freak who still makes fun of him for it to this day.
Mizi being the kindest, most beautiful girl Till has ever known, made it less of a question if he would have a crush on her and more of a when he would develop a crush on her.
He fell almost immediately and he fell hard, but Till isn't a complete moron. When he caught Mizi and Sua making out under the bleachers he didn't stand there and watch like a weird voyeur. He took Sua's glare at him as more than a sign from God to move on.
It was more salt in the wound than anything when he went quite literally crying to Ivan, just to find out he had known since they were mere toddlers.
Hell, apparently he had known before Mizi even knew! Which, by the way, has to be breaking some kind of moral boundaries in friendship codes or something.
So Till has been more or less over her since mid freshman year. But again, Ivan is the absolute worst, so he still likes to make fun of Till about it.
Before Ivan can continue this line of conversation Till pushes him forward and starts walking, "Let's hurry and go before more people come to ask you out."
With a smile Ivan complies, easily catching up to Till and matching his pace."My place?"
"Duh, where the hell else?" Till rolls his eyes and walks quicker.
Ever since they were little they made it a habit to go back to Ivan's house on valentines day. Not because of some complicated tradition or anything.
To put it simply, Ivan's parents are never home and Till's mom would never let them binge eat that much chocolate.
So Ivan's house became the designated Valentine's day spot.
They quickly reach his house, a butler letting them in and not even acting surprised to see Till accompanying Ivan.
Entering Ivan's room is always something that never fails to make Till feel envious. Just like the rest of the house, Ivan's room is obnoxiously large and obnoxiously clean, almost sterile.
The room is filled with the most luxurious grey themed furniture. The only thing that sets it apart from a home you'd see for auction is Ivan's many football trophies and the few pictures he has up of him and Till.
With ease,Ivan sits on his bed, the silk sheets crinkle underneath him, leaving Till to stand awkwardly by the door.
It's not like he's never been here before; in fact he's been he far too many times to count. It's just that the weight of his gift for Ivan is burning a hole through his backpack and he just doesn't know how to bring it up.
It's obviously not a romantic Valentine's gift or anything! It's just that Valentines day is also Ivan's birthday.
Well, adoption day, but it's practically the same thing!
He had some how only found out last year when Luka came to flex on him that his gift to Ivan was probably better than Till's. Only to burst out into laughter when he found out Till didn't know it was his birthday; never mind gotten the boy a better gift.
Till had been enraged to only figure out then, his best friend never even told him his birthday!
And he had to find out from Luka of all people.
The gall!
The audacity!
Till's ego couldn't take it!
But it had been too late to buy a gift at that point, and Ivan had distracted him by shoving a nasty clay flavoured chocolate in his mouth.
This year though, Till was prepared.
He had spent all year preparing this gift because this one gift had to make up for 15 years of missed ones.
No pressure, obviously.
"You just going to stand there or are you going to help me eat all of this chocolate?" Ivan breaks his mental worry with a tilt of his head.
At this point he's not even going to be able to give him his gift before he kills the motherfucker. "Oh shut it."
With stiff movements Till makes his way over to the bed before dropping down on it; bag still clutched tightly to his chest.
Till chooses to ignore Ivan's suspicious look in favour of gazing at the beautiful blank grey wall.
"Do you by chance, have something to hide? Did you actually receive chocolates?" Ivan mocks, hand already reaching out for Till's bag.
In a panic, Till's fight or flight kicks in and he does the first thing that comes to mind to stop him from ruining the suprise.
SMACK
Ivan's head snaps to the side and his eyes are wide and wild.
Till's hand throbs from the pain if hitting the boy's stupidly chiseled jaw and he feels frozen after what he just did.
"Oh. I was simply inquiring, my apologies." Ivan retreats, putting his hands up in mock surrender.
"Wait—shit, I didn't mean to that." Till throws the bag aside and grabs Ivan's face to assess the damage.
On his skin lies a perfect bright red hand shaped print that Till is sure would fit perfectly if he put his hand up to it.
"Fuck— that looks like it hurts. Where's the ointment-" Till rasps, already making his way towards the washroom. Not only is he a terrible friend who forgets his best friends birthday; he's also a despicable human being who slapped that same best friend.
Satan take him now, heaven is not a place he'll being seeing in any form of afterlife.
Just as he's cursing out his entire bloodline in his head his hand is caught. "If you really feel bad I know how you can make it up to me."
Ivan's smiling face beams up at him; the slap mark turning and even angrier shade of red.
"What is it, I'll do anything." Till pleads, the image of him slapping Ivan replaying over and over in his own head making him cringe.
With a crooked smile Ivan cheerfully points to the bag still tightly gripped in Till's arms.
His body tenses up as he realizes what Ivan's asking.
His mouth moves up into a sneer before he cuts himself short and really thinks about it.
How is Till supposed to say no after what he just did.
It's not like he wasn't going to give the gift to him anyways. He supposes now is the best time before he accidentally tries to beat him up again.
With a sigh Till's grip on the bag loosens, "Fine."
Ivan's eyes brighten and he watches patiently as Till struggles to open his bag and search through it.
After a painful amount of time Till manages to pull out the gift.
With an inquiring look Ivan tilts his head in confusion, face a placid smile."You were protecting a simple sketchbook?"
Till bristles at his tone and has half the mind to shove the book down his throat.
"Does it have some kind of erotica in it perchance? Or are these your numerous declarations of love to Mizi?" Ivan mocks.
Till is starting to remember why he doesn't usually give Ivan gifts. Sadly it's too late to put the book away now without it being and admission of guilt.
"Shut the fuck up, of course not." Till fumes as he shoves the sketchbook into his hands; eager to clear his name.
"There is no need to get so flustered Till, I believe you. You don't have to show me your private sketchbook." Ivan muses and Till chooses to not comment on the fact he has already opened the book and is flipping through it.
It's great that he made the damn thing for Ivan or he'd be pissed right now.
Ivan's pace goes from slow flips where he looks at each detail of the drawings but as his face twists into confusion the pages fly by at a more rapid pace before he puts the book down in confusion.
"It's all just sketches and drawings of me." Ivan states but it seems more like a question with how he looks over at Till.
Till let's out a sigh of relief hearing that. He feels glad that Ivan is just being an obtuse asshole as usual and not that his art was so shit he couldn't recognize it was him.
Till ears flush in embarrassed as he rolls his eyes. "It's good that you knows what your own face looks like."
"Why would you have so many drawings of me? And why are you carrying these around with you. What if someone saw this in your bag and got the wrong idea." Ivan lectures seriously.
Till scoffs, considering maybe just walking out of the room. No, the window. Maybe death instead.
"You're a dumbass," Till concludes, continuing his sentence before Ivan can go onto stroke his own ego. "It's obviously your birthday present."
Ivan blinks seemingly in confusion; Till pays it no mind, instead reaching into his lap to pick up the discarded sketchbook.
Till flips all the way to the very last page and points exaggeratly at the picture.
"I had to dig this one up from my old kindergarten notebooks. I wanted to make sure I included sketches I made from back when we were little."
The drawing he has flipped to is a picture of Ivan smiling softly at a book, and judging by his terrible bowl cut this was made from kindergarten to grade three.
His head is adorned by a messy flower crown tangled in his hair.
The drawing is clearly from a while back seeing as the page has yellowed and the edges are torn.
His head was drawn wonky and the proportions of the body are a little off too. Even the colours aren't very accurate seeing as he only had the kindergartens crayons to work with.
At least, the crayons Ivan had yet to steal from him like the little twat he is.
Till flips back to the very front where there is a much better drawn Ivan, also smiling but this time facing forward.
This ones in full colour and his eyes shine brightly as he holds up a finger heart. This one Till had made a mere days ago using his perfect photographic memory to draw Ivan doing his stupid aegyo.
Till mentally pats himself on the back for his great work. Whether Ivan liked it or not, Till was going to make up all sixteen birthday gifts he missed.
Let's see if Luka can give a better gift than this.
A minute passes and Ivan's silence starts to make him nervous. Maybe his drawings weren't as good as he thought.
Maybe all those times Ivan begged to be drawn was another intricate way to make fun of him like when he wanted a birthday kiss.
"You know the drawings aren't even that good," Till begins to backpedal, "I'll just take them back-"
He stops mid sentence when wet drops start to hit the pages and Till's hands.
Till reels back and looks to see big wet globs falling from Ivan's eyes as he stares down at the book.
"Dude, if the drawings are that bad you could've just told me; no need to cry abt it." Tries to comfort him but it's a difficult task seeing as Ivan's tears are unyielding.
Till tries a different approach, trying to nip the issue at the source by taking the book away. Sadly, Ivan seems to love torturing himself as he keeps a firm hold on it and refuses to let it go.
Then, without warning, Ivan yanks Till towards him pulling him into his arms and suddenly they're kissing.
It's awkward and their teeth clash when their lips meet. Though Ivan seems to know what he's doing it's clear he's never actually kissed anyone before.
Even while they kiss, Till can feel the nonstop stream of tears flowing from Ivan's eyes though the man himself doesn't seem to care and continues to suck on Till's lip ring like it's a lifeline.
It doesn't take long for both of them to find a rhythm and the kiss becomes smoother.
With ease, Ivan lifts Till into his lla, tilting his head so as to get a better angle to kiss each other allowing Till to fully melt into the kiss.
Till's own stamina—though he would never admit it—is far worse than Ivan's own from his football training and exercise and Till lack thereof.
Slowly losing air leads Till one hand to pull on Ivan's hair and the other banging on his chest as he feels tears collect in his eyes. Finally Ivan shows some kind of mercy and allows Till to pull away, leaving him gasping for air.
As soon as he blinks the tears from his eyes he sees Ivan already staring at him with big wet eyes, tears still in his lower lash line sucks any last bit of air he had tried to intake.
With a trembling lower lip Ivan asks the first question after turning Till's world completely upside by kissing him."Were you really drawing me this whole time."
Okay, so there were many things Till was expecting him to say.
Like maybe, an explaintion as to why he just kissed him?
Or even just a, "Thank for the gift. I actually do like it and was just crying because I'm weird!"
Or...
Any thing but whatever the fuck he just said, honestly.
Till—a little disoriented and very confused how they got here— nods his head.
IIva's quick to wrap his arms around Till's waist, somehow pulling him closer and shoving his head into the crook of Till's neck just to murmur "What a creepy thing to do." While clearly smiling into Till's neck as he starts sucking like some weird freak vampire.
Talk about fucking creepy.
Till just yanks on Ivan's hair and chooses the ignore the wonton groan it pulls from him and the feeling of something hard under his ass.
He's still very confused, but atleast he wasn't the only one crying this time; that's enough of a win in Till's book.