i'll be there

by banilou

Summary:

For all their life, Till was there for Ivan, even during the days where he was much harder to deal with. Especially during the days when Ivan felt as if he had no other place to turn to — He knew that Till was always there, ready to let Ivan into his messy apartment he shared with his mother, who he’d reunited with after a messy custody battle with his uncle.

That’s why he wants to be there for Till, too. Despite the fact that he’d been deeply and irrevocably in love with his best friend since that day in the playground, he’d done nothing but support every infatuation, fling, and relationship Till found himself in. And anytime Till would find himself in situations only he could idiotically get into, Ivan was heading to him with a taser to boot, just in case.

He would do anything for Till. And that’s his biggest problem.

Or;

A friends with benefits arrangement reaps unexpected results.

Notes:

this is dedicated to my wonderful giftee, LazySkips! i hope you enjoy!

thank you for the tiiv server for hosting this wonderful event!! writing this gave me brain spasms but that was mostly my fault for always writing until 1 am in the morning

Chapter 1: Best Friend

Ivan vividly remembers the day he met Till. 

 

He was six years old, sitting alone in a sandbox, scanning over all the other children happily and carelessly playing with each other during break time. His fingers itch to follow after them, to climb the monkey bars and grip tightly onto the swings as he felt the rush of the air push against his face.

 

But Ivan wasn’t allowed such frivolities. At least, that’s what his mother told him on the ride home after he’d scraped his knee jumping off of the swing. She had said it was unbecoming of a child who had their family name, especially when he was expected to be the heir the moment he presented as an alpha. 

 

He hadn’t understood it then, and he still doesn’t understand it now. He was under no position to question or disobey his elders, though. Especially not when his own teachers watched him like hawks to make sure he was being as good of a child his mother told him to be. 

 

All those eyes watching him… He hated it. There was no escape from them, no reprieve from the performance that was asked from him. He tries hard not to let that hatred and anger fester. It was easier to live to the next day when your heart didn’t feel heavy with emotion every time you woke up. 

 

He practices it now, as he tries to ease himself from the sadness bearing down against every bone in his body. He’s drawing lines on the sand, curves and squibbles that were as meaningless as everything in his life, when two hands, outstretched towards him, shoves a flower crown made out of anemones in front of him. 

 

Ivan’s eyes widen at the offering, and his eyes flicker up into the teal eyes of a blushing boy with the messiest silver strands he’s ever seen. 

 

The strange boy he’s only seen having arguments with the other children in their grade opens his mouth, and closes it again. He seems to fluster even more under Ivan’s intense gaze, and struggles to form a coherent sentence. 

 

“D—” He starts, but shuts his mouth abruptly, shrinking into himself, “Sorry, this was dumb, I’ll go—”

 

Ivan sucks in a breath, and all the hard work he’d been doing in the sandbox comes undone. He grabs the silver-haired boy’s wrist, urging him to stay, as the hungry, gaping black hole in his heart threatens to consume him whole. 

 

No one else ever had the bravery to come to him. Everyone knew who he was. Everyone knew who his parents were. They took one look at him and paled, ushering their playmates the other way. 

 

But this strange boy had come to him with a flower crown. He’d always seen the other children shyly offer their closest friends the lovingly yet crudely crafted ornament, elated giggles spilling out of their mouths as they played knights and princesses.

 

There was always a bitterness that took root in his chest whenever he saw the tender affection and joy between his peers. He’d console himself, telling himself he deserved better than an amateur imitation of a crown made out of dead plants. 

 

A part of him wants to take the silver-haired boy’s offering and crush it beneath his feet, just to prove to himself that he truly isn’t interested in the game of pretend his classmates indulge themselves in. 

 

He almost does, in fact. But black eyes meet teal once more, and all he can see in the taller boy is nervousness, sparkling with a hope that wasn’t often there whenever Ivan crossed paths with him. 

 

Ivan didn’t know if it was the trick of the light, but in that moment, he swore that he saw his own loneliness reflected in those teal eyes. 

 

He loosens his grip on the boy’s thin wrist — Really, much too thin for his age. He wonders if the patch of bruises he catches glimpses of were caused by the boy’s rough housing, or something more sinister entirely. 

 

“Put it on,” Ivan says, after a beat of silence, dropping his hand entirely from the boy’s vicinity, “please.”

 

The boy immediately perks up, a pleased look settling over his face. Really, he looked much too smug for someone who’d just about looked like he was a minute away from spontaneous combustion not even a moment ago. 

 

Ivan finds him odd. It’s endearing. 

 

He keeps his face schooled as the silver-haired boy pats down his hair and carefully lowers the flower crown onto his head. After that, he still seems unsatisfied, fixing a few stray baby hairs to fall better on Ivan’s face. Strangely, Ivan feels that he’s having trouble focusing, the boy’s sure hands, much too calloused for any boy their age, were warm and inviting. So inviting, in fact, he’d almost done something completely out of the realm of propriety, like nuzzled into those hands like a clingy omega. 

 

The thought almost makes him shudder. He can’t afford to disappoint his family like that. Though… He truthfully feels less bothered by the idea, if his future mate would be as protective and warm as the silver-haired boy was. 

 

Still sporting a blush that was an unnatural shade of red, the boy finishes securing the ornament on Ivan’s head. He steps back with a delighted grin on his adorable face, and Ivan feels his pound against his chest at the sight. 

 

Weird. So very, very weird.

 

“You look beautiful,” the boy says, in awe, the words seeming to spill out of him without permission, “like a true princess.”

 

“I’m Ivan,” he says, ignoring the way his neck heats up to his ears at those words, “and I’m not a princess.”

 

“My name’s Till,” the boy offers with a shy smile, his earlier words catching up to him and making him flush into a deeper shade of crimson, “I think anyone can be princesses if they want to be.”

 

Ivan frowns, deep in thought, “That’s not right. You have to have a kingdom to be a princess.”

 

“This can be your kingdom!” Till says, excitedly. He slumps onto the sand and grabs a bucket, shoveling heaps inside of it until it’s full. He flips the bucket over, and carefully tries to shimmy the compacted sand out, “This will be your castle. And I’ll be your knight!”

 

“I think you’re way too tiny to be a knight.” 

 

Till turns to Ivan sharply, looking deeply offended. Inexplicably, Ivan’s chest fills with joy and his mouth quirks up into a small smile. Till’s voice is annoyed when he says, “So what! Just because I don’t have ugly muscles doesn’t mean I won’t protect you from the mean dragons!”

 

“You can try.” Ivan says, and it’s the first time in his short life he’s ever teased anyone.

 

“You’re a very mouthy princess!” 

 

“And you’re a very small knight.”

 

“Okay, then I guess we’re both not very good!” Till exclaims, and something about the way he says it, something about the way his cheeks puff up and arms cross as his offense deepens that cracks something in Ivan, sending him into a fit of laughter. 

 

He feels Till’s eyes on him as he falls into the sand. As he starts to settle down, he can clearly see the way the silver-haired boy’s mouth quirks into an uncertain scowl, unsure how to feel seeing Ivan be so amused at his expense. 

 

“You’re weird.” Till says, laying down onto the sand next to him when Ivan’s laughter dissolves into giggles. 

 

“You’re weirder.” Ivan shoots back, breathlessly, “I don’t need a knight. I can handle myself.”

 

“Doesn’t matter,” Till replies, just as quick, “a good knight protects even when the princess doesn’t need him, but he protects even more when he does.”

 

Ivan’s heart skips, and the feeling is foreign to his young mind. His stomach flutters funnily, and he thinks that may be the reason why he grins so hard his cheeks ache, “Really? You’ll protect me?”

 

“Yes. Of course!” 

 

Ivan had come to find that Till was, in fact, a man of his word. 

 

For all their life, Till was there for Ivan, even during the days where he was much harder to deal with. Especially during the days when Ivan felt as if he had no other place to turn to — He knew that Till was always there, ready to let Ivan into his messy apartment he shared with his mother, who he’d reunited with after a messy custody battle with his uncle. 

 

He’d even been there when Ivan had presented his secondary gender — Not an alpha, not even an omega. Just an extremely unexceptional beta. He’d been there when Ivan’s rebellious act had gotten him disowned by his parents. Every single time that Ivan found himself shattered, Till was always there to pick up the pieces. 

 

That’s why he wants to be there for Till, too. Despite the fact that he’d been deeply and irrevocably in love with his best friend since that day in the playground, he’d done nothing but support every infatuation, fling, and relationship Till found himself in. And anytime Till would find himself in situations only he could idiotically get into, Ivan was heading to him with a taser to boot, just in case. 

 

He would do anything for Till. And that’s his biggest problem.

 

“Ugh!” 

 

Ivan’s pulled out of his thoughts as the devil himself jumps onto their shared couch with reckless abandon. He cocks an eyebrow at Till, as the man glares at their television with a small pout on his lips. Just to be difficult, Ivan continues to watch the movie he’d already stopped paying attention to thirty minutes in. He doesn’t even remember the reason he picked this particular one, but Till doesn’t know that, so he tries very hard to pretend he’s engaged with what he’s watching. 

 

“Quit that. I know you weren’t paying attention to the movie, dumbass.” Till grumbles out, crossing his arms.

 

“Lovely evening to you, too.” He replies, because he knows it will piss Till off more.

 

From the corner of his eye, he sees Till’s jaw lock and the way his handsome face crumples into an annoyed expression as he slowly turns to face Ivan. 

 

“I’m facing a real dilemma right now and you’re acting like a dick!” Till exclaims, arms flailing like one of those balloons at a car dealership. Ivan is a grown man, but he giggles at the mental image anyway. 

 

The silver-haired man scoffs in disbelief, his arms falling to the back of the couch, “You’re laughing at me now, too. So much for being a best friend.”

 

Ivan rolls his eyes at the dramatics. He turns to face Till, and tries not to think about the arms resting behind him lest he gets himself worked up over the image of Till pinning him down again, “So sorry, your highness. What can this humble servant assist you with?”

 

Till turns to look at him, an annoyed expression still blessing his features. Ivan tries valiantly to calm his pounding heart, but to no avail, “I don’t want to tell you anymore, dickwad.”

 

“Aw.”

 

“You don’t even sound regretful at all, asshole!”

 

That pulls out another genuine laugh out of Ivan. Despite his attempt to keep the frown on his face, the edges of Till’s mouth twitch into a small smile, shaking his head in disbelief. 

 

“Sorry, sorry. You’re just fun to tease, Tilly,” Ivan nuzzles his cheek against Till’s like an affectionate pup, and revels in the heat of the smaller man’s flushed cheeks. Ever since he presented as a beta, he never could smell Till properly — Though sometimes he’d catch wafts of the old wood and citrus scent that comforted him as a child underneath the flowery smell of their detergent, “what’s wrong? Promise I’ll be serious.”

 

He can’t see it, but he knows deep in his chest that Till rolls his eyes. Till takes a moment to suck in a breath, before casually wrapping an arm around Ivan’s neck. He inhales sharply, and tries not to tense under the touch, but he can’t help the way Till makes him feel. 

 

He tries to focus when Till opens his mouth to answer, if only to tamp down the way his nerves sing under Till’s hold, “My ruts coming up again and… Ugh. I just don’t want to do it with another omega.”

 

“Why? You suddenly developed a weird kink for non-omegas?” 

 

Ivan yelps as Till pinches his cheek in response, “Nothing like that, you idiot! Just,” the silver-haired man pauses, and Ivan looks up to catch a glimpse at flustered cheeks, “I’m not ready for responsibility. Just the other day I found out my drummer got someone pregnant, even though they went the whole nine yards to prevent it!”

 

Humming, Ivan takes a moment to respond, “It’s unlikely to happen, but even if it does, you can always just get rid of it.”

 

Till scratches his cheek, thinking, “Well… Even if it was an accident, I’d probably still want to keep it. But I wouldn’t want to have a kid with a stranger! I’d rather not risk it at all!”

 

Ivan huffs out an amused breath, “Well, if that’s the case, then just use a doll, or something? I could help you order one.”

 

Till looks horrified at the suggestion, and he damn near pushes Ivan away in terror, “HOW DO YOU KNOW ABOUT SEX DOLLS?!” 

 

“Till, I’m twenty-two years old, of course I know about sex dolls,” Not that I actually own one, Ivan thinks, but he doesn’t say. He much prefers various size knotted dildos. The most he’s ever interacted with sex dolls or even pussy pockets was when he found several in his father’s closet before he was kicked out, “sex toys are normal for people our age to own.”

 

“B-But…” Till actually seems to consider it, scratching a reddened cheek and closing his eyes in deep thought. After a moment, he clears his throat, “Mmh, no. I – Uh, I actually tried that a while back. My ruts get really bad and I just instinctively see the doll as an impostor…” 

 

Ivan tuts, “Picky alpha,” his lips form into a shit-eating grin after he says that, as he leans into Till’s space with a teasing lilt in his voice, “you never told me you used to own a sex doll, Tilly.”

 

“It’s fucking embarrassing, that’s why!” The man responds, pushing Ivan’s face away before groaning and burying his face in his hands, “What am I going to do? My next rut’s in a week. I get really sick if I just spend it alone. But I don’t want to disappoint ma by getting someone pregnant before I even graduate!” 

 

Ivan stares at Till, deep in thought. In the back of his mind, there’s a simmering suggestion that’s too dangerous to let boil over. But Till is desperate for a solution, and Ivan, in his core, wants Till in any way that he can get. 

 

He takes a deep breath in, and says his next words carefully, “Well… You could always find a male beta.”

 

Till visibly tenses up, and Ivan swallows nervously around the lump in his throat. There are very few beta males around campus. There are very few people who present as betas nowadays, really. 

 

“But… In such short notice? I don’t think any of the betas here are into that.”

 

Ivan swallows, heart fluttering nervously.

 

Till’s right, of course. At most, maybe there are a few who are bi-curious, but those guys mostly preferred to top, and obviously, that’s not what Till needed for his rut. If he expanded his horizons, he’d probably meet someone on a dating app, but Till refuses to meet anyone “unorganically.” Which is a word, technically, and has a correct spelling, but Till neither wants to look it up nor let Ivan correct him. 

 

There was only one person who could fit Till’s criteria and also be more than willing to bottom for him. And maybe Ivan’s a little selfish for setting him up like this, but then again, he never claimed to be perfect. 

 

Sorry, Aunt Io, he supposes he can just drop by her apartment and inconspicuously gift her a basket of groceries as compensation for debasing her son. 

 

“I am.” 

 

Till breathes in sharply, staring at Ivan with a dumbfounded expression. He doesn’t even flinch when Ivan starts snapping his fingers in front of his eyes. It isn’t until Ivan starts to physically shake him that he snaps out of his trance. 

 

A fierce blush blooms over Till’s neck up to his cheeks. Ivan would find it cute, had it not been for the worry that Till might pass out from how fast all of the blood in his body rushed to his face. 

 

“You—” Till finally manages to spew out a word, as opposed to the full minute of sputtering incomprehensibly he’d been doing a moment prior, “You–With me? You want to…!?”

 

Yes. I want you to pin me down and fuck me so hard I feel your dick in my throat. 

 

But those thoughts are reserved for moments of privacy in his room, with only the company of lube, a knotted dildo of his choosing, and unsolicited photos of Till’s hand to keep him busy, because despite popular belief among his friends, Ivan isn’t a complete psycho. 

 

Anyhow — That was barely important to him right now. Till looked to actually be considering his offer. He tries his best to keep his tone even and his face free from the eagerness and excitement he feels at the lack of refusal from Till’s end. 

 

“Think of it as a favor,” Ivan says, as if he isn’t vibrating in his seat at the thought of Till fucking into him desperately, growling and biting all of his sensitive spots like a wild animal, “I owe you one after all the—”

 

“No.”

 

Ivan doesn’t let himself deflate, even though he damn near does. Of course Till wouldn’t want him, even just to use him for his body. 

 

“Ah, alright,” Ivan manages to choke out, trying not to let the disappointment bleed out into his tone, “I guess I don’t really fit your usual type, huh…?”

 

“Th–That’s not it!” Till stutters out, then he sighs, dragging a hand over his face, “Just — I don’t want you to do this for favors. I’d hate to take advantage of you just because you think you owe me your body.”

 

Ivan’s stomach flutters. He thanks all the gods that Till’s already hiding away in embarrassment, or else he’d see the way his words affected Ivan — The flush on his cheeks, the shallowness of his breath. 

 

“I…” He mutters, feeling unusually shy, “I want it too, Till. I mean, I want to help you, but also… I… It’s been a long time since I had sex, so…”

 

Half a lie. The only thing more virginal than Ivan is the bottle of olive oil in their kitchen. But it has been a long time since he fucked himself with one of his dildos, which didn’t really come from a lack of wanting, but a necessity due to the work load during his hell week that seemed to be dead set on driving him insane.

 

He chances a glance at Till, who’s looking at Ivan with his eyes furrowed. The same flush dons his cheeks, but he seemed to be much more open to the idea. Subconsciously, Ivan nervously shifts, waiting for the other’s response. 

 

“You… Really want to?” Till asks, cautiously.

 

Ivan nods, and he hopes it isn’t as eager as he feels.

 

With a shaky sigh, Till reaches out a hand for Ivan to shake. The raven smiles at the gesture, and the thought of how odd it is that Till’s offering him a handshake of all things to seal the deal on their friends with benefits arrangement. 

 

So silly. Such a weirdo. He loves him so much. 

 

Ivan grabs Till’s hand, and they shake on it. 

 

He doesn’t know if it’s the lighting of their apartment, but Ivan could swear that a flicker of anticipation shone in Till’s eyes. He was probably just projecting, though.

Notes:

i hope you guys enjoy my first multichapter fanfic, i put my whole baniloussy into writing this. if you want to come yell at me, you can find me @banilou_ on twitter!

Chapter 2: Closer

“There’s something deeply wrong with you.”

 

Ivan can’t help the amused breath that escapes him, as he swiftly scans through the shelves of flavored lube over the counter of the convenience store he currently found himself in. It had been a week since his proposition to Till, and he was making last minute preparations for the next few days. He probably shouldn’t have left Till just a few hours before his rut was set to hit, but there was nothing he could do about it, they’d both been too busy with college to prepare anything for Till’s rut, and Ivan couldn’t just let them both starve while they were cooped up in their apartment.

 

He takes a few more moments to consider what flavor Till would prefer to eat out of him, but in the end, he chooses the strawberry flavored lube, and kindly asks the tired minimum wage worker to put it in with the bag of other necessities for Till’s rut — A heap of condoms in the silver-haired man’s exact size (it was technically an estimate, but Ivan knows he’s perfectly accurate considering how much time he spent shamelessly staring at Till’s bulge most mornings), several packs of granola bars, and variations of Till’s favorite brand of energy drink. 

 

“Are you his rut partner or his mother?” Sua scoffs from beside him, arms crossed disapprovingly.

 

“You know, I’d actually be into it if he called me mommy.” Ivan says, just to be annoying. He regrets the words the moment they leave his mouth, though, when he remembers Aunt Io and a shiver runs down his spine, “Maybe not, actually. I respect auntie too much to attach that kind of memory to a title she rightfully holds.”

 

The black haired woman’s face scrunches into a look of genuine, deep-seated disgust, “The fact that you’d even consider being into it is bad enough.”

 

Ivan flashes the cashier a kind smile as he hands over his payment. As the tired worker processed his purchase, he turns to drily reply to Sua, “For someone who came here to support me in my quest of popping my cherry, you’re not doing a very good job.”

 

“That’s why there’s something deeply wrong with you,” She grumbles out, uncrossing her arms with a sigh, “spending your first time with an alpha during a rut? Does he even know he’s taking your virginity?”

 

“I’m a big boy, noona,” He smoothly replies with a small grin, making her scoff, “I can take it. Besides, he’s a gentle person. Even if he doesn’t know, he’d still take it slow with me.”

 

Sua raises a brow at him skeptically, “How do you know that? And don’t call me that, I’m not your noona.”

 

The walls in their shared apartment were thin, and the girls Till takes home aren't exactly quiet , is the real, socially unacceptable answer. 

 

The fake, socially acceptable answer is the one Ivan says out loud with an even faker smile, “Just hazarding a guess.”

 

The smaller omega rolls her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose in frustration. Ivan pays her lack of response no mind, instead accepting his change from the cashier and carrying the paper bags off the counter. Without prompting, Sua takes one right from him, catching him by surprise. 

 

The older woman glances at his expression, and looks away, a small blush dusting her cheeks, “It’s too much to carry for one person.”

 

Ivan takes a moment to think of a proper response — But nothing he can think of can quite capture the warm feeling in his chest. Instead, he lets himself smile, “Thank you.”

 

They walk in silence for a moment, through the park near the apartment building they all lived in. He really had no idea what possessed Sua to come and help him, he supposes Mizi encouraged her to do so after forcibly extracting his friends with benefits shenanigans from his mouth. 

 

He had to admit, it was nice. He always thought of Sua as an older sister, even though they were only distantly related. Something about the way she held herself during family gatherings made him feel a kinship with her that he never did with the rest of his family. She didn’t really feel the same way though, but Ivan had long learned to live with that fact. 

 

He’s pulled out of his thoughts, though, when Sua grasps her cold hand in his own, “Be careful. You don’t slick, so you have to—” 

 

The warmth in his chest is replaced by the sharp heat of embarrassment. It was one thing to have sex talk when you were a pubescent pup, but having one at the ripe age of twenty-two was too much, even for him, “Ah, it’s alright Sua, I already—”

 

“Just listen, alright?!” She exclaims, seeming just as embarrassed to have initiated the conversation in the first place, “Taking a knot is already difficult for an omega, and we’re built to take it. Trust me, it was difficult to walk after my first time with Mizi—”

 

God, please strike me down. Ivan didn’t ask for any of this!

 

“And maybe you think that you’ll be able to handle it, but trust me, a–a…” Sua stutters, and follows up in a low whisper, “a knotting dildo is nothing close to the real thing—!”

 

Unable to handle this conversation any longer, Ivan politely covers Sua’s mouth, interrupting her spiel, “Sua, please. I’m serious, I’ll be okay. This is clearly painful for you.”

 

The older omega pushes away his hand, and lets out a relieved huff, “Well, I’m… I’m glad you know how to be safe.” 

 

She swallows, pulling the paper bag closer to her face, as if she was attempting to use it as a shield against the awkwardness permeating through the air between them, “…If anything seems a little scary, you can always come to me or Mizi, alright?”

 

Sua nervously fiddles with her fingers over the paper bag, “That is, you know if… Um, if you’re too embarrassed to talk to Till about it, you can always talk to us.”

 

Ivan takes a sharp breath in, and considers. Despite the embarrassed look on her face, the omega seemed to be completely serious in her offer, eyebrows scrunched in genuine worry. 

 

He thinks that it’s a little ridiculous. Ivan’s no maiden omega, and his innocence barely meant a thing to him. He counted himself lucky to have the opportunity to lose it to someone he actually wanted. Saying that out loud would probably do anything but assure the woman in front of him. Though Sua wasn’t in the habit of meddling with other people’s lives, the same couldn’t be said about Mizi, and whatever he said to the former would surely reach the latter. 

 

Ivan smiles down reassuringly at the black-haired omega, softening his eyes in the way he knew disarmed most people he directed it towards, “Thank you, noona. I’ll tell you if I ever need you, I promise.”

 

The tension seems to leave her, and he counts it as a success. He feels a little guilty about being dishonest in response to her sincerity, but a white lie never hurt anybody. 

 

“... Don’t call me that.” Is all she replies, but there was no heat behind it. 

 

Ivan just keeps smiling at her. 

 

His problems were his own. There was no need to drag anyone else into them. 

 

—

 

Ivan could smell it, even through the door of the apartment — The scent of an alpha in pre-rut.

 

He normally wouldn’t be able to. A beta’s nose wouldn’t be able to smell an alpha nor an omega’s scent, would normally barely be able to smell them at the height of their ruts and heats. He supposes it had to do with the fact that he grew up with Till, and knew his scent before he presented. 

 

In every way that mattered, Ivan was just any other beta. Being a little more sensitive to Till’s scent wouldn’t change that, no matter how much he wanted it to. 

 

He’s stepping into the apartment and turning his back to close the door, when familiar arms wrap around his waist, and he feels a face press into his sensitive neck, desperately nosing into his scent glands. Surprised, he lets out a small gasp, some of the grocery bags falling onto the floor with a soft thud as he braces himself against the oak of the door. 

 

“T–Till…” He mumbles out, legs feeling wobbly and heart pounding so hard against his chest he can barely hear himself speak. The once weak scent of an alpha in pre-rut now overwhelms his senses, wrapping around him like a warm and coveting embrace. 

 

“‘M sorry, can’t help it…” Till whimpers through his neck, weakly, “Missed you, wondered where you went, missed you, missed you—” 

 

The silver-haired man’s hands snake under his sweater, cradling his stomach possessively. Ivan shivers, knowing exactly what was on Till’s mind despite having no words exchanged between them. The thought of carrying Till’s pups was exhilarating — No matter how impossible it actually was in practice.

 

Ivan reaches his free hand to Till’s hair, the angle awkward and uncomfortable. He pays it no mind though, as he brushes his fingers through the soft strands, and the other man moans at the touch, subconsciously pressing his body closer to Ivan’s. 

 

His words are soft and reassuring when they leave him, “Till, you have to let go, okay?” Despite his attempts, those words still seem to displease the other man, his hands moving to grip on Ivan’s bare waist, eliciting a subdued gasp from the raven, “I’m not leaving. You’ve–You’ve got me, okay? I just need to put away some things for—”

 

Suddenly, Till jumps away from him, as if burned. When Ivan turns around, Till’s wrapping his arms around himself, a guilty look on his face. 

 

“S–Sorry! Fuck, oh my god, this was a really bad idea,” Till mumbles, his nails digging into the meat of his upper arms, “I’m sorry, I get really weird but it’s normally not this bad when I’m in pre-rut—”

 

Ivan gently places the grocery bags onto the floor and slowly makes his way to Till. Immediately, Ivan’s senses are overwhelmed with the intoxicating pheromones of an alpha in rut, lulling his head into a foggy state of arousal. If he’d been an omega, he’d have found himself kneeling and panting, begging for cock at the first inhale. As it is, all his body could manage was a surging heat that wracked his body and weakened his knees. 

 

When he reaches Till, the smaller alpha flinches away, looking pained, as if it took all of his self-control to do so. Ivan persists, grabbing Till’s wrists and tearing his hands away from where the younger man’s nails were digging into his skin. 

 

Ivan was a beta. He had no experience in how to calm down a distressed alpha — That was an omega’s duty. But he was more than just a beta — He was Ivan, and it was his duty to take care of Till. It was a job he’d long perfected down to a science. 

 

He held Till’s hands in his own, and pressed his forehead gently against the silver-haired alpha, “I said that I would help, Till. I’ll be here no matter how weird you get. You don’t have to hold back.” 

 

I don’t want you to, he thought, never daring to speak it out loud.

 

Treat me like a mate. Treat me like you would any omega. Bite me, hold me, possess me, break me and mend me in turn — Burn me until all that remains of me is ashes. 

 

Till looks up at him, conflicted. Ivan wishes that telling him all the words stuck in his throat would erase the doubt in his mind, but he knows all too well that it wouldn’t do anything but hurt the other. 

 

Besides, how pathetic would he be, if he admitted that he still loved Till after all these years of knowing the other would never love him back? 

 

He’ll have whatever Till was willing to give him. As for him? There’s nothing left of him for Till to take but his body. Everything else — His heart, his soul, his life — He’d long relinquished to the boy with messy silver hair on that day at the sand box. 

 

After a moment of tense silence, Till chokes out, “Don’t say that.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because…” Till reaches out of Ivan’s hold, his hand reaching out to thumb at the scent gland on Ivan’s sensitive neck, and the raven shivers at the touch, “I’ll take it seriously. I really won’t hold back.”

 

“Take everything you need.” It’s always been yours.  

 

Till pulls him down into a searing kiss, his other hand snaking back under Ivan’s sweater, caressing the raven’s waist. A shiver runs through Ivan’s spine at the feeling of warm, calloused hands covetously mapping every dip and curve of his body, and he grips Till’s arms for purchase, feeling lightheaded. All he could feel, taste, and smell was Till — Even through his closed eyes, the only thing he could see was the alpha. 

 

The other pulls away, just barely, his breath hitting Ivan’s raw, spit-slicked lips, “Tell me if it’s too much. Don’t provoke me. You–... You don’t know how bad I get when I’m in rut.”

 

Ivan thinks back to all the nights he spent fucking himself on various-sized knotted dildos while he kept an open ear for any noise that Till made while he was fucking random omegas. He doesn't mention any of that, though, when he says, voice hot and heavy with lust, “Don’t threaten me with a good time, Till.”

 

Till growls, before he looks away, abashed with a flush high on his cheeks. The realization quickly dawns on the taller beta that it seemed, if it were up to the alpha, it would likely take them an hour or so before they even got to any sort of penetration, keyed up with embarrassment as he was. 

 

Ivan was normally a very patient man, but the smell of an alpha’s growing desperation would drive anyone insane, no matter if it was an ovulating omega or a beta with senses duller than a rusted axe. He grabs Till by the back of his neck and pulls him into another kiss, open-mouthed and wet. He runs his fingers through silver strands, tugging lightly at them. The alpha beneath him growls, and Ivan can tell that something in him snaps when the other man’s tongue pushes against his own, hands wrapping themselves tightly around his slim waist, thumbs pressing down against the part of his tummy that would’ve had a womb if he’d presented as an omega. It’s constricting, possessive . Ivan prays that it leaves bruises. 

 

He feels Till’s hand cover the back of his head, as the other stays stubbornly on his waist. It isn’t until the alpha slams him against the wall that he understands the hand was meant to cushion the blow. Ivan wishes he hadn’t — The fracture in his skull would’ve been another reminder of the best day of his life. 

 

Ivan pushes Till away, to catch a moment to breathe. His heart catches in his throat when he sees the thunder in Till’s eyes. The raven leans in, only a little, and smirks, “Brute.” 

 

The alpha’s pupils dilate, and a new wave of pheromones mixed with the heady scent of pine hit Ivan. Till leans into him close, chest rumbling with a growl so deep that Ivan’s knees tremble. If he’d been the kind of person born to be an alpha’s mate, he would have soaked himself through his pants. 

 

“Brat,” Till breathes onto Ivan’s lips, voice husky, “You just love pissing me off, don’t you?” 

 

God, that’s so hot, “I prefer to think of it as a bit of light teasing, but it might come across as—” 

 

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence, Till’s mouth pressing against his in a rough kiss. The alpha nips at his bottom lip, pulling away just enough to growl into his lips, “You’re such an asshole. I tell you not to provoke me, and you push all my fucking buttons.” 

 

Ivan shivers, the alpha’s voice making blood rush to his cock as well to his cheeks. Realization dawns on Till, and he laughs, a cruel, dark little sound that does nothing to calm the fire in the pit of Ivan’s stomach. 

 

“Or is that exactly what you want, huh?” Till leans in to his ear, low and husky, not hoping to get an answer. The hand on Ivan’s waist drifts down to land a harsh slap on the beta’s clothed ass. The raven goes slack, knees buckling and arms wrapping around Till for purchase, mouth panting out a breathy moan into the silver-haired man’s ear, “Fuck, you’re pathetic. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you, mate.”

 

Ivan’s head spins, letting out a small whimper at the name. In the back of his mind, he knew that it was just Till’s rut talking. He knew that the secondary gender that was handed to him wouldn’t allow him to be claimed and owned by the one person he wanted so badly to belong to, but that didn’t matter now. No — In this moment, Ivan was Till’s to do as he pleases, and he couldn’t have been happier to comply. 

 

“I’m going to move away,” The alpha whispers, voice deceptively soft and warm, and Ivan falls for it anyway, his stomach fluttering with a warm feeling, “when I do, you’re going to strip.”

 

Ivan nips at the lobe of Till’s ear, and the man beneath him groans, “Yes, alpha.”

 

When Till pulls away from him, he holds onto the wall behind him, legs still feeling like jelly. Once he’s finally able to stand on his own, he starts to take off his clothes, never once taking his gaze off of Till’s hungry eyes. 

 

He takes off his top, revealing the expanse of his smooth, doll-like skin. He presses his pecs together, looking at Till heatedly as he does so, and he feels his cock leak at the way the alpha stares at him, like it took everything from him not to devour him whole. Without taking his eyes away, Ivan moves his hands down his body, palms feeling against lean muscle, and cinching his own waist with them. He sees Till’s hand twitch, the alpha nearly reaching out, before catching himself and crossing his arms. 

 

Ivan smirks at him, deceptively smug as if he wasn’t just as desperate to have those hands imprint bruises on his skin as Till was to leave them on him, “Getting impatient, Tilly?”

 

He watches as Till’s eyes flash dangerously, before dragging them down to look at the exposed meat of Ivan’s thick thighs as the raven tugs the waistband down and off his feet, “I’ll fuck that smart mouth off of you. Just you wait, you damned brat.”

 

The hair on Ivan’s arms stands, as the cold breeze hits his naked skin. He doesn’t have to suffer for too long, as Till saunters toward him, large hands attaching themselves onto Ivan’s slim waist. The look in the alpha’s teal eyes is manic when he sees the way his fingers almost touch. He reaches up to whisper hotly in Ivan’s ear, “I wonder how big you’ll get once I stuff you full of my pups.”

 

Ivan presses a palm against Till’s chest, pushing him away lightly, “Calm down, alpha. Can’t slick, remember?”

 

He regrets the words as soon as they leave his mouth. The hazy lust in Till’s eyes fades away, just a little enough for him to look ashamed, “R-Right. Of course.”

 

Ivan’s chest tightens at the look of genuine remorse in Till’s eyes. He presses a soft kiss against chapped lips, taking note to make the alpha drink after their first round just so that the other man doesn’t dehydrate, “Hey, it’s okay. First times aren’t perfect.”

 

He moves away from where he’d been trapped between the wall and the other man, heart pounding within his chest as Till reluctantly lets him go. He feels teal eyes on him as he crouches into one of the paper bags, and grabs the bottle of lube from inside. He has to remind himself over and over again that Till’s desperation for his warmth was a mere symptom to the alpha’s rut, or his traitorous heart would fool him otherwise. 

 

He wishes to all the gods that it would become real. A distant dream that will never become reality, but dreaming never hurt anyone. 

 

Half a lie, Ivan thinks, eyes nearly boring holes into the bottle of flavored lube from how intense his stare was. Dreaming never seemed to hurt anyone else but the dreamer themselves. 

 

He stands up, discarding the stray thoughts in his mind, and focuses on his true objective; helping Till. He turns to look at the alpha, and Ivan feels the air shift as he comes face to face with Till — A desperate, almost crazed look in those teal eyes, nails digging into his arms, and elongated canines digging into his bottom lip. 

 

The moment teal eyes meet black, the air permeates once more with the smell of pine, sharp with lust. Before he knows it, Till’s pinning him down onto the ground, dousing Ivan with waves of intoxicating pheromones as he mouths at the beta’s neck, sharp teeth grazing at the skin. 

 

Ivan lets out a punched out moan, hands finding their way onto Till’s back and digging his nails onto the skin there, whining as he says, “T-Till, slow down—” 

 

“Can’t!” Till growls into Ivan’s neck, the word ending with a whimper, “Can’t… Wait… I feel…”

 

He tears away from Ivan’s neck, groaning as if it pained him to do so. He pulls off his tank top, before attaching his mouth onto the small, brown nub of Ivan’s chest, sucking and biting onto the nipple like a newborn as his hands messily and clumsily shuck off his ripped jeans and underwear. 

 

Till takes his cock in his hands, nudging the head on the tight ring of muscle of Ivan’s ass, and letting out a pained noise against the raven’s reddened and abused nipple, “You–You don’t feel good? ‘M sorry, ‘m a bad alpha—”

 

Ivan’s hands move from where they’d been imprinting red crescents onto Till’s back to cradle the alpha’s crying face in his hands, “No, that’s — Oh my god —” he whimpers as Till grinds down on his cock, “Till, Tilly — You’re a good alpha, ngh, ‘kay?” 

 

“Why aren’t you slick ?” Till whines pathetically, continuing to bump the head of his cock on Ivan’s tight hole. 

 

“Can’t slick, alpha, remember?” Ivan says, and he can’t help the dismay that slips into his tone as he says it. If only he’d been born right , if only his biology allowed him to be Till’s, wholly and fully. But he wasn’t. And he never would be. He tries not to let the bitterness poison his next words, “Here, I–I picked this out for you, ‘kay? You just have to, haah , put some inside, and then—”

 

Till cuts him off, taking the lube from Ivan’s hands. He parts Ivan’s legs, squirts a generous amount of the cold, strawberry flavored substance onto Ivan’s taint, before shoving two long fingers deep into the cavern of the beta’s wet, spongy walls, making Ivan’s mouth fall open into a low, desperate moan. 

 

“F-Feels so much like a pussy…” Till groans out, fingers scissoring open the tight entrance, “So warm, fuck, you’ll feel so good… So perfect… You’ll carry my pups like a good mommy…!”

 

“Mmhng —” Ivan sputters, as Till’s fingers curiously prod at the bump of his prostate, tears starting to gather at the edge of his eyes at the overwhelming pleasure that’s building at the pit of his stomach, tightening like a coil, “God, too much, Till!”

 

Till doesn’t seem to hear him, continuing his assault on Ivan’s prostate, trapping the small bump between his middle and index finger, earning him a high-keening moan from the raven below him. 

 

When Till pauses, Ivan is glad for the moment of respite. He speaks much too soon, though, because soon enough, the alpha’s hands cup the back of his knees, pushing the limbs into his chest. His eyes widen when he feels the head of Till’s cock poke at the still tight ring of muscle of his ass. He feels both panic and excitement settle in his heart, as Till starts to brace himself to thrust.

 

He overestimates his ability to handle the alpha’s cock — The moment Till’s thick length tears open his virginal hole, he lets out an ear piercing scream, tears freely falling from his eyes, as he cums so hard his vision whites and sees stars behind his eyes, semen dripping out of his cock in thick rivulets and staining his stomach. 

 

Till is merciless in his pursuit of pleasure, mind succumbing to the unbearable heat of his lust, licking away Ivan’s tears as he continues to push his half-knotted cock into the soft walls of Ivan’s hole. 

 

The raven sobs, his thighs shaking in overstimulation as Till continues to pound him into the ground, fists helplessly beating onto Till’s back as the alpha continues to abuse his prostate. 

 

“Oh my god, oh my god, ‘s too much—” Ivan cries into Till’s neck, pleasure building up in the pit of his stomach once more, “Please, Till – ‘S, ‘s too much…!”

 

If Till heard him in any way, he doesn’t show it, thrusts picking up pace as he chases his own high, lifting Ivan’s hips higher to press his cock deeper into the beta. 

 

Ivan lets out a moan, his breaths coming in short and rough. Oh my god, I feel him in my throat…!

 

Overwrought with pleasure, he instinctively tries to squirm away, but Till’s weight was pressed atop him, trapping him firmly into the ground. The alpha notices his attempt to escape, and lets out a low, reproaching growl, “Don’t you fucking dare .”

 

Ivan whimpers, nodding obediently, wrapping his arms around Till’s neck, punched out little gasps and whines escaping his reddened mouth as the alpha continues to fuck him raw. He feels the alpha twitch inside him, and he tries to bury his face into the cold, hard ground, bracing himself.

 

“F– Fuck, unh, I’m cumming,” Till huffs out breathlessly against Ivan’s neck, “will you take it? Will you be a good mate and let me fuck you full of my cum?”

 

He licks the salty sweat running down Ivan’s neck and whimpers as his thrusts start coming in shallow, movements hindered by his growing knot. Till grazes his canines against the skin of Ivan’s neck, rut-addled mind becoming more jumbled as he catches wind of the scent of lavender incense and strawberries coming off of Ivan in waves, sharpened by the beta’s heightened state of pleasure. 

 

Without thinking, he bares his teeth, sharpened canine breaking over the patch of skin where alphas marked their omegas with a growl, driving his cock inside of Ivan one last time, sensitive head spurting out copious amounts of cum deep inside of the raven. 

 

Ivan wraps his legs around the alpha, jaw falling open in a silent scream, overwhelmed by the knot stretching his plush walls taut and the strange sensation rooted from where Till had bit him. For a moment, he felt as if he was disconnected from his body, surrounded by an inexplicable warmth, until he felt himself regaining feeling in his limbs, still clinging onto the alpha as if his life depended on it. 

 

Till carefully places his hips back onto the ground, licking the punctures on Ivan’s neck clean. The beta swallows, and swears he could taste the bitterness of the alpha’s semen on his tongue. 

 

Tired and aching all over, he lets Till carry him to the alpha’s nest, cock still locked inside of him. He drifts to sleep to the feeling of sweaty arms wrapping around him, lips pressing against his hair so soft and reverent that it almost hurts. 

 

If only I could stay like this forever, he thinks, eyes drifting shut. 

 

If only he could embed himself within Till’s skin to never part with him. If only the mark on his neck wasn’t just as temporary as his place in Till’s life.

Notes:

i love tillivan yaoi, drop a kudos and a comment if you also love tillivan yaoi

Chapter 3: Burnout

Notes:

cw: vomiting

if you want to skip that scene, stop reading at "From the corner of his eye, he sees Till frown..." and start again at "“Hey, no,” the alpha says, gently lifting him up from his position on the floor..." :))

The day that Ivan presented, his parents had been devastated. The next head of the house, whose upbringing was dedicated to grooming him to be the perfect alpha, turned out to be a beta . The first in his line, the runt of his family. 

 

Really, Ivan had been lucky. Being the heir meant you had a constant target on your back, especially since his father also had business in the underground. Now that he presented as a lowly beta, his extended family had several doubts in his ability to rule, and offered their own sons and daughters who’d presented as alphas and thus were more equipped to fill the role that was supposedly for Ivan.

 

In truth, Ivan despised the thought of one day taking his father’s place. He much preferred reading novels and studying the human psyche than he ever did managing a business. Still, his family had a special way of making him long for things he never really wanted. 

 

After years of being treated like royalty, it was disconcerting to be tossed aside like foul meat. His mother, who once distantly doted upon him, less like a son and more like a pet, or a prized possession, stopped involving herself in his life entirely. His parents went from occasionally calling him down for tutor sessions and small chats about his academic progress to barely being present during supper — The only hour of the day where they spent the most time at home.

 

If his home had been cold before, it was even colder still. Whatever illusion of warmth his family gave to him was stripped the moment he presented. 

 

The day he’d finally had enough of the silence and the loneliness, he distantly remembers having stolen a bottle of his father’s finest gin, and driving down to Till’s neighborhood. The moment Till’s mother opened the door with a kind smile was the first time in a long while where he felt like there was a place in this world that he could belong .

 

Mouth feeling dry, he forces a smile onto his face, “Hello, Aunt Io. Is Till home?”

 

The older woman’s mouth stretches into an apologetic smile, “He’s not here, sweetheart. He left this morning to find a gig for his band. But you’re welcome to stay, if you’d like.”

 

Ivan tries not to feel shame at the way his eyes water. He stretches his mouth into a wider grin, as relief finally settles into his body at the thought of being allowed to stay in the bubble of safety Till and his mother had carved out for the two of them with their own blood and sweat.

 

“Thank you, Aunt Io.” He says gratefully, as she steps away to let Ivan enter. He used to feel odd about being in Till’s home without the boy, but he found that Io had a certain way about her that made you feel welcomed no matter what, “I’m sorry for the inconvenience.”

 

“It’s no trouble, Ivan. You’re practically family now!” She exclaims, reaching out a hand to pinch his cheek affectionately. She then ushers him to sit down at the dinner table, leaving him with a glass of water as she steps into her small kitchen to reheat some leftovers. 

 

Ivan watches her as she works with a warm grin on her mouth, as if it was permanently etched onto her lips. Sitting at the dining room table with nothing but his thoughts to entertain him, he can’t help but notice how different his mother was from Aunt Io. 

 

Despite having both presented as omegas, he found that Aunt Io was much more in tune with the nurturing side of her omegan instincts. Like right now, it seemed obvious to her that Ivan came to her home upset, and despite the fact his beta senses were dulled compared to that of an omega or an alpha, she gave off a powerful waft of comforting scent that even he could smell. 

 

It felt a lot like a warm embrace, like a mother’s lullaby as she gently rocks her pup to sleep. He could never imagine his mother ever doing this for him, let alone for a child who wasn’t even hers. His mother stopped scenting him the moment he left toddlerhood. If he was upset, or discomfited, she would peel off the scent patches on her wrists and let him rub on them until he calmed down, then she’d leave him with a pat on her head, scolding him for being so needy even though he was no longer a pup. 

 

He remembered the sharp envy in his chest whenever he’d smell his other classmates and notice how they’d smell as they always had — Like their parents. He hated how he wasn’t even allowed to adjust slowly to the change, how he was simply expected to be able to live without the comfort of his mother despite the fact that no one else in his grade had to live that way. 

 

Ivan never showed it, though. Everyone viewed him with distant admiration, perhaps even a little fear. Well, everyone but Till, anyways. 

 

He smiles into his cup of water, as he remembers Till’s persistence in trying to get him to confess what was wrong with him. When he finally managed to get Ivan to speak, he offered to scent him with flushed cheeks and an embarrassed look on his face. 

 

Ivan remembers agreeing, but he remembers much more starkly the way his classmates looked at Till jealously, and the smug look on the silver-haired boy’s face whenever their classmates smelled him on Ivan. 

 

Now, Till’s much too embarrassed to scent Ivan, stating that it was inappropriate for an alpha to do that to his friend. He still does it sometimes, whenever he notices that Ivan needed cheering up. He doesn’t even need to be asked. 

 

The thought makes Ivan ache. God, he loves Till so much.

 

He thinks of sneaking up to the other boy’s room, making some half-hearted excuse to Io about needing to grab something, but he decides against it. He was already going to drink in her home without her knowledge and goad her son into drinking with him, the least he could do is sit obediently as she prepared him food. He heard it was good for maintaining a good alcohol tolerance, anyways. 

 

Before he knew it, Aunt Io was already rounding out of the kitchen, holding a plate of reheated japchae , “It isn’t much, but I hope it’ll be filling! This was supposed to be Till’s, but he told me he’d be eating out.”

 

Ivan instinctively pushes away the plate politely, “Ah, auntie, I couldn’t—”

 

“Nonsense!” Io replied, pushing the plate back to Ivan enthusiastically, “Like I said, you’re practically family. I’m sure Till wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’m sure he’d even insist you have it!”

 

Ivan sucks in a deep breath, considering his options. He really didn’t like feeling that he was taking advantage of Aunt Io’s kindness, but Till certainly got his stubbornness from his omegan mother. He knows that if he kept refusing, she would only keep insisting, and he’d rather be finished now and feel guilty about it, than face a standoff with the unstoppable force that is Till’s mother. 

 

She watches him with kind eyes as he takes the first bite, and a second, and a third — She doesn’t even waver when Ivan’s eyes start filling up with tears, only moving to rub his back and whisper comforting words into his ear. 

 

When he finishes, he thanks her for the meal, and starts making his way up to Till’s room. Before he leaves, Aunt Io gently pats the top of his head fondly, “It’ll be alright, Ivan. Trust auntie, okay?”

 

Ivan gives her the best reassuring nod he could, before leaving to stalk up to Till’s room. 

 

—

 

Ivan loses count of how many shots he’d taken after the fifth glass. He’d long gotten used to the burn of the alcohol in the back of his throat, and the way that heat spread from his mouth to his stomach with each glass that he downed. Unfortunately for him, somewhere between the third and fourth glass, his head started feeling much too heavy to lift up. 

 

He’s sitting on the floor, anchoring his head on the sheets of Till’s bed, when his nose catches wind of that familiar pine scent. He nuzzles into the blanket, hands weakly bunching up the cloth and pressing it closer against his nose. 

 

Ivan lets the smell wash over his senses, mind too deep in a drunken haze to care about the quiet voice of what remains of his sober mind that tells him he shouldn’t climb on the mattress and wrap himself in Till’s comforting scent. 

 

He melts into the bed, nuzzling his face into the pillows that smelled of Till’s floral shampoo. Like this, he can almost forget about everything else. If he could help it, he would remain here, in this moment, forever indulging himself in the solace he was rarely allowed to have. 

 

But…

 

He hears the sound of footsteps, the creaking of a door opening — He knows, he can’t hide from the outside world forever. 

 

“Ivan?” Till says, pausing for a moment, and the raven hears him take a deep breath in, “What the hell? Were you drinking?”

 

Ivan doesn’t answer. He takes a pillow from his head and buries his face in it. He expects Till to shout, to tell him to stop assaulting his pillows, but instead, the other boy walks slowly toward him.

 

He can feel Till in front of him, kneeling beside his bed, “... What happened, Ivan? You… You smell… Wrong…”

 

Ah, right, Ivan thinks. He forgot that Till could smell his distress. 

 

His arms tighten around the pillow, but he does answer, this time, “... ‘m a failure.”

 

Ivan’s words are muffled by the pillow, and made more unintelligible with the drunken slowness he says it with. He almost thinks Till doesn’t hear, and he truly hopes that he didn’t. He hadn’t meant to say it, let alone say it like that . God, he was never drinking anything ever again. 

 

Against his wishes, Till did hear, and after a long stretch of silence, he hears the other boy sigh, “Ivan, you’re not a failure.”

 

“I am.” He answers, before his better judgment could stop him. 

 

God, I sound like a child, he laments internally, burying his face deeper into the soft pillow. 

 

He hears Till huff, then feels the bed dip as the other boy lifts himself up to sit beside him. Rudely, he snatches the pillow from Ivan’s arms, and the raven whines in protest. 

 

“I don’t care what your stupid parents say, Ivan,” Till says, with a roll of his eyes, “you’re pretty fucking cool, alright? You’re twice the person they are.”

 

Ivan’s breath hitches, and he’s warm in a way that feels unrelated from the amount of alcohol he’s consumed. His eyes trail over the dip in Till’s eyebrows and the anger behind those beautiful teal eyes. It’s too much for him to bear, the intensity in them doing strange things to his heart — As it always does, when he’s around Till, but the alcohol makes it difficult to keep a straight face. 

 

He looks away from those eyes, ashamed. Those words, while nice to hear, Ivan knows are awfully incorrect, “I’m no one without them.” 

 

From the corner of his eye, he sees Till frown before opening his mouth to rebut, but unfortunately for both of them, the nausea that Ivan had thought he miraculously dodged suddenly hits. He stands up, stumbling along the way, and tries valiantly to run down to the bathroom before he unloads his dinner onto the floor. 

 

He only manages to step out of the door before he’s unable to stop the bile from rising his throat. Till rushes to his side, panicked. The silver-haired boy rubs his back, cursing in between words of comfort. 

 

“Fuck, Ivan,” Till says, worry etched in between his brows, “how much did you drink?”

 

Ivan sits by the doorway, feeling awful and disgusting. He tries to move, and accidentally gets his jeans dirty. 

 

“Oh no,” he says, quietly, looking down at the puddle of his own bile. Before Till could stop him, he takes off his sweater, trying to scrub the mess clean, “‘m sorry, I’ll take care of this—”

 

“Hey, no,” the alpha says, gently lifting him up from his position on the floor, “Ivan, no, you don’t have to do that. C’mon, let’s get you downstairs, take a shower.”

 

Ivan follows after him, helplessly. He shivers as the cold air hits his warm skin, and he resists the urge to press closer against Till than what was needed for him not to trip and fall down the stairs.

 

The other boy leads him into the bathroom, telling Ivan he’ll get him some towels later. Ivan must say something in response, because Till nods, leaving and closing the door behind him. 

 

Ivan stumbles inside of the bathroom, and only has enough energy to turn on the shower, before his legs give in, forcing him to sit in a fetal position, back pressed to the cold tile walls. He doesn’t know how long he sits there, lightheaded and still slightly nauseous, but a knock at the door pulls him out of his staring contest with the bucket full of water on the other side of the shower. 

 

“Ivan?”

 

He can only manage a hum in response, and he hears Till sigh in relief. Ivan smiles,

 

It would’ve been hilarious if I’d fallen asleep, huh?

 

“Glad you didn’t fall asleep, idiot,” he hears the other say, “open the door, I got you some towels.”

 

It takes him a while before he can stand up without slipping against the wet tiles, but he eventually succeeds. He opens a small gap on the door, reaching out to grab the towels. 

 

“There’s so many.” Ivan points out, carefully wrapping the first one around his body.

 

“Yeah, well…” The other boy sounds a little shy, “It’s really cold, so I thought…”

 

Ivan swallows, heart squeezing, warm and full of fondness. He presses the side of his head against the door, stabilizing himself from the alcohol and the dizzying affection he feels for the other boy, “You’re the best, Till.”   

 

He feels more than sees the way Till freezes up, and he’s smiling as he listens to the alpha’s proud words, “I–I know!” 

 

—

 

Ivan stumbles up the stairs in several layers of towels. He thanks every god known to man for the invention of handrails — He fears that without them, he’d have long stumbled face first into the step in front of him. 

 

When he reaches the top, he finds the floor cleaned up, if still a little bit wet. He walks carefully around it, conscious not to slip and fall so close to the stairs. He opens the door to Till’s bedroom, and sees a stack of clothes on the bed. 

 

When he takes a closer look, he sees that it’s the usual clothes Till let him borrow whenever he stays over. He takes the shirt in his hands, and presses it close to his face, seeing if he could catch wind of the pine scent of its owner. He smiles when he smells it, and carefully tugs it on, along with the rest of the clothes laid out in front of him.

 

When Ivan finishes, he crawls onto the bed. In the dim room lit only by the weak light of Till’s makeshift lamp, he catches sight of the bottle of gin on the nightstand. He takes the nearly empty bottle of liquor into his hands. 

 

Till must’ve moved it from the floor.

 

He glares at it for a moment, as if it was the most contemptuous thing in the world. And perhaps it was.

 

Holding it in his hands, all he could feel was a heavy grief and anger in his heart. For years, he spared nothing of himself to be the perfect son. His life, up until this point, felt like an endless performance where his only reprieve were these four walls and the boy that called it home. 

 

And now, he was being discarded. As if he was nothing more than a replaceable commodity, as if he wasn’t his parents’ god damned child .  

 

Breath shuddering, he swallows down the rest of the bottle, and lays down on the bed as the room spins and he feels lightheaded once more. His lip wobbles, as the anger manifests into grief. 

 

He’d never wanted that position anyway. He was used to having his actions monitored, to being kept on a short leash, but even the thought of one day inheriting his father’s title had felt heavier than any chain he’d ever worn. 

 

But who was he, if not his parents’ child?

 

He didn’t know. 

 

The door creaks open, and he blinks slowly at the other boy, his movements feeling slow and syrupy. Till huffs at him, disbelieving. Ivan finds it funny, letting out a small burst of breathy laughter. 

 

“Damn it, Ivan,” Till curses, “Ten minutes. I took ten minutes to make some instant noodles and you get yourself drunk again.”

 

Ivan turns to look at Till, as the latter places a makeshift tray on his nightstand, two cup noodles and glassfuls of water perched on top of it. Till sits himself on the edge of the bed. 

 

As Ivan sits up, slowly, and says, “Sorry… I was actually saving that for you.”

 

Till lets out a huff, grabbing his guitar from the side of his nightstand, and starts strumming, “It’s alright. Wouldn’t have been enough to get me drunk, anyways.”

 

Ivan listens to the familiar tune, one he’d heard several times before. It was the new passion project Till had been working on for his band’s next album.

 

Despite the fogginess of his mind, he watches Till closely through mouthfuls of noodles, entranced. 

 

“Until these falling stars are buried in the blur of time,” Till sings, dulcet voice sending shivers down Ivan’s spine, “on your icy lips, read my soul,

 

“Yes, my soul…” The other boy pauses his strumming, eyebrows scrunched in frustration, “Ugh, I don’t know how to follow that up.”

 

Ivan rests against the headboard, contemplating. He churns the words and the tune in his mind, and comes up with a half-decent addition. He lifts his head to look at Till, “I can help, if you want.”

 

The other boy looks at him, surprised — But only for a moment. He breaks out into a grin not long after, and starts strumming his guitar one more time. 

 

Ivan closes his eyes, and studies the way Till separates the syllables for each line and melody. When the silver-haired boy finishes his part, Ivan follows, “Even if your cold words carve scars beneath my eyes, may they linger on your tongue,”

 

Ivan breathes in, opening his eyes to look at Till. The other boy was in his element — Focused, masterful , and there was a spark in his eyes that Ivan only saw when the alpha was engrossed in music. It was one of the many things Ivan admired about him. 

 

“You can break me apart, notice my pain,” 

 

Ivan closes his eyes again, lips trembling with words he shouldn’t say.

 

A sandbox. A flower crown. A bright smile and messy silver hair.

 

“And mend me right now,” 

 

A warm embrace. Clumsy words of comfort. Earnest teal eyes, full of concern. 

 

“To quiet my fears, I’ll drown in you…” 

 

Ivan trails off, breath shaky as he exhales. He’s done enough damage to his life. He can’t, he shouldn't add one more thing. 

 

“That was awesome, dude!” Till chatters, excitedly, “You have a talent for songwriting. Hey, maybe you should—”

 

But when it came to Till, his judgment was always a little clouded. 

 

“I love you.” 

 

He sees the other boy pause, the light in his eyes slowly fading, and Ivan feels terribly cold. He shouldn’t have, he really shouldn’t have, but the alcohol in his bloodstream had loosened his tongue. That, and Ivan was tired . Tired of being the perfect son, tired of forgetting himself, and tired of pretending that he wasn’t completely, deeply, irrationally in love with Till.

 

“Till, I love you,” His voice comes again, shaky and frail. He feels close to crying, the tears gathering in his eyes as he shuts them closed, “I’ve loved you for ten years.”

 

He swallows around the lump in his throat, as he drags his knees up to his chest, leaning his forehead in between the bone there. He can’t bear to look Till in the eye when he says, “I love you, and you don’t feel the same way. I thought that–that maybe, if I wasn’t meant to be an alpha, if I’d just… Presented as an omega… But no. I — As always, I can never get…” 

 

Ivan breathes out, shakily, “I’m not good enough for my family. I’m not good enough for you either,” his voice is quiet, vulnerable in a way he never allowed himself to be, “where do I go?”

 

He wraps his arms around himself, nails digging into his skin as he lets himself cry. It felt cathartic. It felt wrong. It felt human . Till had a nasty habit of making him feel that way, it seemed. 

 

Ivan feels the mattress shift, and he knows when he looks up, he’ll find himself staring deep into teal eyes once more. He doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t even feel himself breathe, until calloused, yet gentle hands, pry his hands away from himself. Those same hands cup his face, lifting him up gently. 

 

He sees the sorrow in Till’s eyes, the genuine remorse etched onto his features. Wordlessly, the alpha starts to lean in, closing his eyes. 

 

Ivan stops him, midway, placing his fingers on chapped lips. When Till’s eyes snap open, Ivan asks a question he already knows the answer to, “Do you mean it, Till?”

 

Till’s face crumples, flinching away, just the tiniest bit. Ivan swallows around the lump in his throat. If he was honest, he didn’t even need to look at the other boy when he asked. The silence was answer enough. 

 

Still, Ivan meets the silver-haired boy half way, moving his lips against Till’s, cupping his face and pulling the other boy as close to him as possible. He lets himself be selfish, if only for this moment — It didn’t matter that it would hurt more to have a taste of the one thing he wanted more than anything and never being able to have more than just that. He’d face that problem another day, when his head wasn’t addled with alcohol. 

 

The moment Till pulls away, Ivan breathes against his spit-slicked lips, “Stay. Hold me, please…” He begs, desperate and longing. Ivan reaches out, fingers tangling themselves with Till’s calloused ones, “Let me — Let me pretend, just a little while longer…”

 

Till lets out a breath, shaky, trembling . He lifts Ivan’s hand up to his lips, pressing a soft kiss on the back of it, “Okay, I — Whatever you want, Ivan.”

 

Without a moment to waste, Ivan lets go of Till’s hand, laying down under the covers, facing away from the other boy. Behind him, he feels Till move, and he hears the sound of a lamp turning off before the bed dips to carry the weight of another person. His pulse thunders in his chest as Till’s arm cradles him, holding him gently like he wanted to, like he meant it. 

Till is quiet. Quiet in the way where he wants to say something, anything else, but doesn’t know how to verbalize it.

“I… I’m sorry.” Is all he’s able to say, quiet and almost ashamed, “I’m sorry, Ivan.”

In some twisted way, Ivan is happy. Till cares for him enough to give Ivan his sorrow, to regret that he can’t bring himself to love the empty husk he holds in his hands. Till cares for him enough to let Ivan leech off of the warmth that he’s made out of. 

Even if this is all he’ll ever get, it’s more than he’ll ever deserve.

Ivan breathes in, and breathes out. He sits in silence, evening out his breathing, wanting to feel less shaky than he does at this moment.

“It’s not your fault, Till.”

He feels Till shift, and he feels the other boy press a kiss to the back of his head. Ivan falls asleep to arms wrapping around him, bathing him in the comforting scent of pine.

Notes:

if you're wondering if this scene is inspired by a particular scene from a particular filo movie . you are correct. #therealonesknow

Chapter 4: Yours

When Ivan wakes up, the world feels slow. His eyes blink open blearily, as his brain tries to catch up to the world around him. When he finally comes to, the first thing he feels is a dull ache in his lower back, then slender arms wrapped around his waist, hot breaths fanning against a sensitive nipple, and finally, cold, crusty semen dripping out of him. 

 

He sighs quietly, discomfited, and carefully maneuvers himself out of Till’s grasp. He struggles to do so, the other man tightening his grip around him whenever he tried to shimmy out, a displeased frown etching itself on his features. 

 

In the end, Ivan succeeds, carefully switching himself out for a pillow. Till doesn’t seem happy about it, making a grumbling noise as he sniffs at the cushion, and only smells himself. 

 

Ivan laughs quietly at Till’s angry little face, reaching out to cup his cheek. The other man leans into the touch, eyebrows softening and looking peacefully asleep. The raven lets out a longing sigh, chewing on his lip. 

 

What I wouldn’t give to wake up to this face every morning… 

 

He inches closer to Till’s face, nuzzling the alpha’s cheek and inhaling, allowing himself to stay there for a moment, just to lose himself in the heat of Till’s skin, the flush on his flesh, and the smell of his addicting scent. 

 

Only for a moment — A fleeting touch. He’d already taken too much the past few days, stolen too many kisses and caresses that didn’t truly belong to him. He didn’t know how much he would be able to leech off of the alpha before he found out that Ivan was nothing more than a hungry parasite.  

 

This is dangerous, Ivan thinks, pulling away from Till, swallowing nervously. He couldn’t risk getting too greedy, too comfortable . This was a temporary arrangement until Till found the person he wanted to settle down with. At best, he had the alpha until graduation, and not a moment after that.  

 

Mindlessly, he takes a sniff of the used shirt Till had forced him to wear on the last day of the alpha’s rut — Part of a common desire for an alpha to claim their rut partner. It was instinct, but still, Ivan had been ecstatic to be at the receiving end of the gesture. He was just a simple man, after all.   

 

He limps to the bathroom down their apartment hall, every ache a pleasant, but uncomfortable, reminder of how… Thorough Till had been with him. He wasn’t complaining, though. Sex with Till had been everything he hoped it would be, and then some. 

 

‘Then some’ being the sadistic tendencies he had whenever I provoked him, Ivan notes, a smirk on his face as he lifts his shirt and admires the bruises and bite marks littered all over his body. He wasn’t a particularly vain person, but he had to admit that he looked quite good in several shades of red and purple.

 

He’s touching his neck, straining his head to gaze appreciatively at some of the colored bruises on it, when his index finger grazes the deep punctures on his neck. His breath catches in his throat, brows furrowed in disbelief — An entire week had passed, and they hadn’t even scabbed over. 

 

It was odd. In all of his years as a student, this was never discussed as a phenomena that happened to those with beta biology. Though, he supposes, Till had paid a lot of attention to this particular bite. Perhaps there was something contained in an alpha’s saliva that caused wounds to react differently when coated with it? 

 

In the end, he shrugs it off, taking off his clothes and stepping into the shower to have a quick wash. He was starting to discover the things he liked during sex, and found that there were very few things that he’d say no to, while there was quite a lot that he’d never refuse to — Although maybe that was less about him being receptive to suggestions, and more that he was receptive to anything that Till suggested. 

 

He bends over the shower, bracing himself against the wall with one hand, while the other washes the semen from inside the plush walls of his ass. Ivan tries valiantly not to think about the kinks he’d collected over the course of the week, specifically the catalysts to his discovery, but it was difficult . Despite his attempts, his mind still drifted — Long, slender fingers, wrapping themselves around his neck, sharp teeth biting over his sensitive nipples, a hot, pulsing cock driving deep inside him, a knot, locking all of the precious seed that he felt as far as his rectum, a rough, angry voice, calling him a cockslut bitch through gritted teeth…

 

Ivan shudders, releasing all over the tiled bathroom floor. His breaths come in hot and heavy, the shower still dribbling water against his back. 

 

It was so unfair, the way he didn’t even need to belong to Till to be completely ruined by him. 

 

He watches the water wash away the mess he made on the floor through half-lidded eyes, still lost in the post-orgasm haze, before he turns it off, stepping out of the shower. He still felt a little off-balance, but it was better than before. 

 

Ivan dresses himself again after quickly drying himself with one of the towels hung inside the bathroom, and heads out of the bathroom into the kitchen to cook some breakfast for Till, who wouldn’t be awake for at least another hour. 

 

He takes some time to stretch out some of the aches and pains all over his body from being manhandled in various positions and kept in them for minutes, if not hours at a time, before he takes out the ingredients needed for a few servings of Till’s post-rut favorite — haejangguk. 

 

After many years, he’d become somewhat of an expert of this particular dish. He wasn’t a bad cook, per se, but if you were to ask him to serve a dish that would impress the head chef of a renowned restaurant, this was the dish he would plate with the confidence of the next Master Chef. He remembers the first time he came over after a particularly rough week of Till’s rut. The alpha looked as if he’d been run over by a truck, hair a rat’s nest and red scratches all over his body. 

 

That had been the time Ivan found out that Till’s ruts were irregular. He’d already had his suspicions, given that Till rarely had to be excused for his ruts when a lot of his other classmates were absent every other month. Aunt Io had sullenly explained to Ivan, talking over a boiling pot of ox bones, that it had something to do with Till’s uncle, Urak, feeding and injecting him all sorts of drugs to keep him small and manageable — As a result, not only were Till’s ruts difficult to track, but they were also intense.

 

Despite that, the moment Till caught the smell of his mother’s haejangguk, his sunken eyes would brighten, and a sunny smile would replace the sullen frown on his face. These days, the alpha’s ruts weren’t as bad or as infrequent as they were in his early years, but nothing quite beat seeing him perk up like an excited pup whenever he saw a bowl full of his favorite stew. 

 

Ivan’s stirring the pot, having just put a handful of vegetables into the stew, when he catches a whiff of pine — Odd, but he shrugs it off as another symptom of having spent a rut with an alpha. He smiles to himself, feeling the way Till excitedly hovers from behind his shoulder. 

 

“Haejangguk?” The alpha asks, tone poorly concealing the delight he clearly felt. 

 

Ivan nods, covering up the pot and hanging the ladle on one of the hooks their landlord would definitely murder them for if he ever saw it. He hears Till suck in a breath, sounding horrified, and turns to look at him, cocking his head to the side in question. 

 

The silver-haired man looks at him with eyes wide as saucers, a flush high on his cheeks as he points at Ivan, “You–You…! Oh my god, did I do that?!” 

 

Ivan feels amusement crawl up his chest, and he lets out a small laugh behind his hand. Till glares at him, punching him in the chest, and the raven winces, a still tender bruise caused by the alpha’s eager mouth making itself known. 

 

“Shit! Sorry, sorry!” Till’s hands hover over him nervously, worried but unsure on how to help.

 

“You’re so violent,” Ivan whines with a pout, massaging his chest, “I may be a masochist but that stays in the bedroom, Tilly.”

 

He tries to hold in his laughter as more blood rushes to Till’s face, making him look like a particularly ripe tomato, lest he become a victim of the alpha’s violent tendencies once more. He expects Till to retort, but the other man seemed to deflate, looking ashamed. 

 

“Till?” 

 

The man’s head hung low, deep in thought and chewing his bottom lip as he does so. 

 

Finally, he looks away, and whispers softly, almost sounding sad, “I—... I didn’t think it would get that bad. I get if you… Don’t want to, anymore, and maybe we really shouldn’t have—”

 

Ivan reaches out, cupping Till’s cheek softly, “There wasn’t a second where I didn’t enjoy everything you did to me.” He says, but the alpha looks away from him, unconvinced. He lets out a huff, frustrated, “You were a little rough. I don’t care, I like it rough.” 

 

Till’s eyes snap to him, a little too quickly, and there’s a look in those teal irises that elicits an almost primal fear in Ivan, and the raven can’t quite figure out why. 

 

“How’d you find that out? Who showed you that?” 

 

The questions are thrown at him in quick succession, something like a growl caught in between each syllable. Ivan raises a brow at him, “Is this an interrogation?”

 

The alpha has the decency to look ashamed, shrinking down after he unwittingly started posturing. Ivan releases a breath he didn’t know he was holding. 

 

“S–Sorry, I think I… I still feel a little weird.” Till coughs into his hand, looking up as if he was staring at the Sistine Chapel, and not an abomination that brought shame upon architects and engineers alike. He freezes, before looking at Ivan with widened eyes, “Oh my god, I didn’t get to — Are you okay? I’m such an asshole!” 

 

“True,” Ivan affirms without any hesitation, and Till looks at him, exasperated, “what? I’ve been too nice to you this morning. We need to balance it out.” 

 

“What–Whatever!” Till huffs, crossing his arms, “Just, ugh — Did I, did I at least give you… Um…” 

 

Now, it was the ground Till was looking at as if it was a particularly interesting piece of art, and not rotten wood that was one particularly hard stomp away from creating a hole in it. He sits in embarrassed and flustered silence for a moment, before he whispers, “Did I, um, give you aftercare?”

 

“… Sometimes I wonder how you managed to get rut partners before me.” 

 

“Hey, fuck you—!”

 

Ivan crosses his arms, smiling cheekily, “You already did.”

 

“Oh my god, I can’t believe this,” Till groans, burying his face in his hands. He heaves one heavy sigh, and looks up at the raven pleadingly, “just answer, please?” 

 

Ivan chews the inside of his cheek, before relenting. He supposed the balance has been restored, and he can afford to extend Till an olive branch, “Well… You licked the semen off my stomach—”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“—And proceeded to try and eat me out, you know, to clean your cum? But then you stopped midway because you said if you took too much I might not get pregnant—” 

 

Till makes a distressed noise, not unlike the mating call of a whale, before slamming his head on the marble top of the kitchen counter.

 

“—Then you proceeded to lick every inch of my body. I think in your rut brain that constituted as a bath.” 

 

“Every inch?” Till asked, lifting his head from the counter, looking tortured. 

 

“You liked my armpits a lot. Second only to my nipples. I could make you a ranked list.” Ivan replied evenly, as if he wasn’t deeply amused by the display in front of him. 

 

Till looks into the far distance, mumbling with a haunted look on his face, “Is that why there was hair in my mouth?” 

 

“My armpits are shaved,” Ivan chirps, unhelpfully, “I think that may have been pubic hair.”

 

“You shave your armpits but not your pubic hair?!”

 

“It’s harder to shave,” Ivan pouts, and because he found out funny to pretend he wasn’t a complete virgin, he adds, “no one else has ever complained before.”

 

He expects Till to tell him that that’s because his other partners are freaks , like him , or at the very least, an eye roll. Instead, the alpha pauses in his tracks, and a bitter smell permeates the air. Barely perceptible to Ivan’s beta senses, but it was there. Worried, Ivan opens the pot of haejangguk to see if the smell had come from there, but the stew smelled completely fine. 

 

Before he could locate where the smell had come from, it was already gone. Till stands up, brushing his fingers through his silver strands, “Whatever. It doesn’t bother me either, I was just… Surprised.”

 

The alpha’s sudden change of mood confuses Ivan, “Ah. Well, I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything.”

 

Till shakes his head, pursing his lips, “‘S alright. But I don’t really think I did enough. You must have been aching when you woke up.” 

 

Subconsciously, Ivan rolls his shoulder, muscles there still aching from when Till held his arms behind his back while he pounded into the beta like a wild animal. He clears his throat, even as a pink lightly dusts his cheeks at the memory. 

 

“It’s fine,” He says, like the liar he is, “I took a shower. It was nice. I felt better.”

 

Till scoffs, his brows furrowed, “You think I believe that? With how you look?” 

 

Ivan holds a hand over his heart in mock offense, “Ow.”

 

“That’s not what I mean, dumbass,” Till rolls his eyes. He moves closer to Ivan, and without any warning, lifts up his shirt, thumb lightly grazing over the bites and bruises, pressure firm, warm, but never overwhelming, “I have ointments and stuff for this. I know you might think I’m an incompetent partner which is… Fair, I guess. You just… Made it hard… For me to…”

 

The alpha pauses, noticing the unusual silence from the other man. His gaze shifts from Ivan’s naked, tantalizing skin, to the look of flustered shock on the raven’s face. The beta bit his lip, looking away as if he was embarrassed to be seen in such a state. It was only in that moment when Till felt that Ivan was getting goosebumps, feeling it from where he’d been caressing the other’s waist. 

 

Till lets go of Ivan, as if burned, and maybe he was with how bright his face was, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, I should’ve asked—” 

 

Ivan rested against the kitchen counter, trying to calm his racing pulse, but it was a difficult task, his mind still stuck on the gentle hold of Till’s hands. His nerves still sang from where the alpha touched him.

 

When his breathing finally evened out, and his heart didn’t feel a moment away from beating out of his chest, he mutters, “It’s really fine, Till. I’m not fragile, I don’t need to be pampered after sex—”

 

His breath gets caught in his throat, as Till cages him in, against the kitchen counter. The look on the alpha’s face was terrible — His handsome face was crumpled in a snarl, “Who the fuck told you that? Aftercare isn’t just pampering.”

 

Ivan panics. He hadn’t known it was that serious, and besides, he was being honest. Despite being primarily driven by the need to breed, Till was a perfectly attentive partner throughout all of it. He quite liked all the licking. 

 

“I–I just meant,” He clears his throat nervously, trying to wrack his brain for an excuse, “I mean, well, they offered. I just — It just felt like I was being too demanding, you know?”

 

The anger in Till’s face fades, replaced by a sad, almost aggrieved look in his eyes, and Ivan panics even more. 

 

What am I supposed to say then?! How do I fix this?!

 

The silver-haired man pulls away from him, running a hand over his face with a sigh, “You idiot. You’re not being demanding. They’re still fuckers for listening to you when you said you didn’t need aftercare, though.”

 

Ivan purses his lips, “I don’t see what the big deal is, honestly.”

 

“What, you got that big of a degradation kink?” Till snorts, before moving closer to Ivan once more, hand reaching out to tuck the black strands of hair behind the raven’s ear and asking softly, “... Do you want me to show you?”

 

It’s almost embarrassing how easily Ivan gives in — But that seemed to be a given around Till. He just hoped his answering nod didn’t give away too much of his eagerness. 

 

The other man lets out a deep breath, swallowing nervously. A blush still dusted his cheeks, but he seemed confident as he reached out and planted a kiss on the back of Ivan’s hand, while his free hand dipped beneath the raven’s shirt, holding him tenderly.

 

“You did such a good job,” Till mutters against the skin of Ivan’s hand, and already the words have caused butterflies to run amok in the beta’s stomach, “you took me so well, pretty boy.”

 

The alpha’s tone is soft, almost devotional . It was dangerous to Ivan’s heart. Till turns over his hand, pressing another soft kiss on the palm of it, before nuzzling into the scent glands of his wrist, whispering gentle affirmations all the while. It felt real , almost like the other man meant it. Ivan chews on his lip, his free hand trembling with the desire to reciprocate, to lose himself in the other’s embrace, to drown in his warmth and never surface. 

 

Teal eyes flicker to his face, and he loses his resolve. This wasn’t meant to be anything else but an alpha doing his duty to his rut partner. It was an obligation, not done out of true affection, and he had no business in the first place to act like it was.

 

A temporary solution — That’s all he was. He can’t, shouldn’t, delude himself into thinking he was anywhere near a proper lover. 

 

“... Well?” Till asks, expectant.

 

Ivan swallows around the lump in his throat, before shooting the other man a smirk, “Pretty good. How come nobody else comes for a second helping?”

 

The alpha huffs, amused, “Oh, they try,” he sounds smug, too smug, and Ivan rolls his eyes, “I just don’t let them.”

 

“Shame,” Ivan says in mock pity, grinning mischievously, “I feel very special that I get to have that privilege then.” 

 

A small, comfortable pause. The raven admires what he can see of the peaceful expression that settles over the other man’s face. 

 

Then, Till breathes in, flashing him with a sincere grin, “That’s because you are. Special, I mean,” He hides his face, looking at the ground as he scratches his cheek, abashed, “To me, at least.”

 

Ivan’s heart leaps to his throat, and he tries his best to keep his cool. He misses when Till used to be much too shy to even attempt to verbalize his emotions. He’s had to remind himself that Till didn’t mean things the way he wished he did too often, as of late. It was difficult to keep up with it. 

 

“You’re special to me, too.” Ivan says, a small smile on his lips. Till perks up, a sunny expression on his face, hopeful.

 

“Really?”

 

“Of course,” Ivan nods, beaming at the other man, “you’re my best friend, after all.”

 

Inexplicably, the expression on Till’s face turns downcast, “Right…”

 

Ivan’s brows furrow in confusion, but before he could ask, the stew boils over. He jolts, moving to turn off the stove before transferring the pot to one of the unused burners, taking off the lid to make it cool faster.

 

“Haejangguk’s ready!” The beta says, pinching Till’s cheek and laughing as he gets swatted away. He moves out of arm’s reach of the alpha, grabbing a few utensils and two bowls to set the table with. The alpha shoots him a middle finger as he’s placing the bowls on the table, but the small twitch of the other man’s lips and the mirth in his eyes betray him. 

 

They spend the rest of the morning hurling half-hearted insults to each other through mouthfuls of stew and rice. Ivan couldn’t think of a better way to spend his time. 

 

—

 

Days turn into weeks, then blur into months. Before Ivan knows it, his temporary… Arrangement with Till has become something of a bi-monthly routine. Many things became the norm for them after that first week. 

 

For example, after that first time, Till had been resolute in giving Ivan aftercare. He’d leave ointments somewhere in arm’s reach, mostly stored in his bedside drawer. Whenever his rut started to fade, no matter how sleep-addled and tired he was, he would stay awake for hours at a time, caging Ivan in his arms and whispering soft words of comfort and praise as he rubbed a balm on his bruises and bites. Ivan tried to contest it at first, lighthearted in his approach, but Till stubbornly kept the routine. 

 

“Did it make you feel better?” He’d asked, an eyebrow raised. 

 

When he heard Ivan say yes, he refused to listen to anything else the raven said. But what made it absolutely unfair was when the praise that was usually kept in the bedroom started bleeding into their regular day-to-day interactions. 

 

Ivan could handle Till at his saddest. He could even handle him at his angriest. But he had no clue how to handle a Till that kept a featherlight touch on his waist as he asked for a taste of their dinner, before humming in approval and complimenting Ivan’s cooking skills. 

 

What was worse was that Till seemed to be doing it on purpose . Every time he looked away in pleased embarrassment he’d catch the alpha in the corner of his eye looking at him with a smug look on his face. As if having Ivan turn away from him, flustered and abashed, was some sort of achievement for him. 

 

It was getting increasingly difficult to retaliate. Every time Ivan teased him or pissed him off, he’d glare at him, before getting this look in his eyes, and an almost evil smirk would grace his lips. He’d wrap an arm around Ivan, or snuggle closer to him, then his voice would drop an octave, and he’d shower the beta in earnest praise until Ivan stopped talking. 

 

No matter how often it happened, Ivan never seemed to become even the slightest bit immune to it. In fact, it only seemed to get worse for him as time passed. It was Pavlovian, the way he sat expectantly in front of Till eating the dinner he cooked, anticipating praise that always seemed to come. As a result, he became… Needy, as horrible it was to admit to himself. 

 

It manifested in many ways. Despite his push back, and despite how odd it felt at first, Ivan could never imagine the aftermath of Till’s rut without the alpha holding him tight to his chest and tucking his head in Ivan’s neck, breathing him in as he mumbled gentle words of comfort against the raven’s skin. Even if Till merely stood up to grab a bottle of water or some snacks, an empty feeling would take hold of his chest, and the beta would feel hollow and alone until the other came back to hold him again. 

 

Sometimes it was like that — Soft, and longing. Almost pure in appearance. But everything with Ivan was always stained with something dark and ugly. 

 

Most times, his neediness was hunger . Hunger and greed that coalesced into something dangerous. He felt it worse during the alpha’s ruts, clinging onto Till and holding him close, almost like he wanted to be pulled under the flesh, to merge into one being. In those moments, he felt whole, encased within the arms of his own perfect paradise, consumed by and feasting upon the warmth that surrounded him. For every moment shared like this, Ivan craved for more . And Till only seemed all-too willing to comply. 

 

But he didn’t know, of course. He didn’t know that Ivan’s desire was more than just the sexual kind. It was more than just lust. He didn’t know that Ivan wanted to find a home inside of Till, to belong to him forever. 

 

Even so… Despite his selfishness, despite the fact that he has desired little else the way that he desires to be the only thing that Till will ever need… His love for the alpha is the most selfless thing about him. 

 

He will take and take — He will take until Till gets tired of giving. He will take until Till finds the right person to give all of his warmth to. When that time comes, when Till finds the kind of love that he’ll write songs about, Ivan will relent. Break from the crevice of Till’s skin he burrowed into and crawl his way into some dark and dingy place to rot in. 

 

Ivan will have no other. There’s no other place for him but Till’s arms. But he knows another will occupy them. That empty space between them was a space he coveted for the small window of time he was allowed to. Someone more deserving will find their way there. 

 

But for now, it’s his. For now, Till lets that space be his. And it’s enough.

 

(It has to be. It has to. He isn’t allowed anything more.) 

 

—

 

Ivan’s been gaining weight lately.

 

It’s not a big deal. Well, normally it wouldn’t be a big deal. But right now, as he stands in front of the bathroom mirror, he feels as if it was the end of the world. He pouts as he feels his soft pec, the skin looser than it once was. 

 

This was unfair — He hadn’t even stopped working out for that long. He’d just been too busy with finals. He was still maintaining his diet, and spending ruts with Till should count as exercise considering the amount of time he spent being bent over and having his muscles strained! 

 

And yet, here he was — Obviously pudgier than he was a few months ago. 

 

Till peeks into the bathroom, a disgruntled look on his face, “Ivan you’ve been there for over thirty minutes, what could you possibly—” 

 

The other man pauses, the frustrated dip between his brows softening and his mouth falling open while a pink blush dusts his cheeks, gaze shamelessly stuck on Ivan’s body. 

 

Till swallows, awestruck, “Wow.” 

 

Ivan crosses his arms, feeling both embarrassed and self-conscious at being caught staring at himself in the mirror, and before he could stop himself, he blurts out, “You don’t have to pretend I still look good. That’s more offensive than calling me a pig.”

 

“What– No!” The alpha exclaims, flustered and mortified in the same breath, “No, I’m not— You look sexy!” 

 

Till slaps a hand to his mouth, a haunted look in his eyes. They stand face-to-face, matching blushes on their cheeks as they process the words that were just exchanged. 

 

“... You mean it?” Ivan asks, quiet and unsure.

 

The other man blinks at him, lowering his hand from his face, looking over at Ivan with a searching gaze. When he finds whatever it was he was looking for, he admits, earnestly, “Yeah… You look good.”

 

The tension melts away in Ivan’s chest, and his heart warms. He grins at Till, a mischievous tilt of his lips, “Only good? I thought it was sexy.”

 

He watches in great amusement as the silver-haired man sputters, face growing hotter by the second. Finally, he huffs, throwing Ivan a middle finger before turning to leave the bathroom, “Whatever! Just hurry up, Mizi’s gonna be upset if we’re late again.”

 

Ivan salutes at him playfully, “Yes, sir!”

 

—

 

Later, Ivan steps into the living room, where he finds Till pacing in front of their couch, talking animatedly into his phone with a bright smile on his lips. The raven leans on the nearest wall, crossing his arms as the other man finishes the call with an overjoyed yell. Till spots him staring, and rushes toward him before tackling him into a hug. 

 

“Holy shit!” The other man exclaims, excitement pouring out of him in droves, “Ivan, you won’t believe it. A big record label’s gonna pick up Unknown!”

 

For Ivan, the world stops. His chest collapses within itself and a terrible, awful, empty feeling overtakes him, a feeling he’d last felt when his parents had left him soaking in the rain, his clothes a muddy mess on the grass their gardeners worked so hard to maintain. 

 

But this felt all the more unbearable. 

 

… I thought I had more time, but it turned out…

 

Ivan smiles through the shakiness he feels, reciprocating Till’s embrace as best he could, “Congratulations, Till. You deserve this.” 

 

The other man freezes in his arms, before pulling away, just to catch a glimpse of Ivan’s face. What he sees seems to worry him — His brows furrowed in concern, and a frown forms on his lips, “Ivan? What’s wrong…?”

 

The raven pauses, long enough for Till to find it suspicious, but Ivan doesn’t give him the chance to talk, “Nothing’s wrong. What made you think that, silly?”

 

“Bullshit,” Till says, voice tense and anxious, “I can smell you. Something’s wrong. Tell me, Ivan.”

 

Ivan swallows around the lump on his throat, caught. He keeps his mouth sealed shut and expression neutral, refusing to answer any of Till’s questions. It was none of his concern. He didn’t need to know. The beta’s problems were his own, and no one else’s.

 

Till’s jaw locks, frustrated. Even so, he doesn’t relent. Stubborn as ever, he reaches out to cup Ivan’s face, and the raven knows — He knows that once he feels those hands on him, feel the way they cradle him gently, once he hears the comforting octaves of Till’s voice coaxing the truth from Ivan’s mouth, he will spill like an open faucet. Because anything that Till asks for, Ivan will give it to him — Because everything that Ivan is belongs to the other man. 

 

All of his pains, his fears, he will speak them through shaky breaths and choked sobs because he is weak . He is weak, and he will ask Till not to grow without him, and his words will fill Till with a guilt that he will carry for a lifetime. Till will choose that record label, Till will chase his dreams, because that is the person that he is. 

 

And for as much as Till cares about him, Ivan has never, and will never be more important than that dream. 

 

Though Ivan was born with a hungry black hole for a heart, he’ll learn to deal with starvation before he’d even think of trying to shackle Till with the weight of his burdensome emotions.

 

He catches Till’s hands, stopping them in their tracks. He smiles at the other man, and he knows it doesn’t reach his eyes, feels the somber curve of his lips deep in his soul, “I hope you find what you’re looking for.” 

 

Ivan pushes Till away, light but firm. He goes to grab his coat, but he’s stopped midway by a hand curled around his wrist. 

 

“I don’t understand,” Till says, looking lost and hurt, “I want to understand. Why won’t you let me?”

 

“I couldn’t possibly put you through that.” Is all Ivan says, smiling wryly. He extracts his wrist from Till’s hand, grabs his coat, and leaves. 

 

Till doesn’t follow.

 

(It’s for the best .) 

 

—

 

Maybe I was too harsh, Ivan ponders, taking a languid sip of his bubble tea, before absentmindedly playing with the straw, I reacted too dramatically, didn’t I? It’s not like he’d up and leave me just like that. 

 

“—Ivan?”

 

I’ve been too volatile these days, haven’t I? He purses his lips, stabbing at the pearls at the bottom of the cup, I’m being so odd. I don't understand myself. Why am I like this? Why can’t I stop my mouth from whining like a spoiled child?

 

“Ivan.”

 

God, is Till miserable? Why didn’t he follow after me? He was also supposed to be here, Ivan takes another sip of his bubble tea, huffing when one of the bigger pearls blocks liquid in the straw, he’s usually confrontational… Maybe I pushed him too hard this time? 

 

He scoffs at the thought, It really is none of his business, though. Besides, he’ll leave eventually. Soon I’ll just be an unpleasant memory to him, and I’ll just rot in that rancid apartment— 

 

Mizi slams his hands on the wood of the table, jolting Ivan out of his thoughts. He looks at the pink-haired alpha, surprised. 

 

“Finally!” She exclaims, exasperated, “You’ve been spacing out for the last ten minutes, Ivan. What’s on your mind, bestie?” 

 

Till’s going to leave me. I’m going to die alone. I’m so sad and for some reason it’s making me really horny. 

 

“Nothing much, really.” Is what he actually says, a sunny smile on his lips.

 

The alpha smiles, teasing with a mischievous glint in her eyes as she waggles her eyebrows, “Not even about Till~?”

 

Ivan freezes up, taking a nervous sip of his drink.

 

Is Mizi psychic now? 

 

He clears his throat, shooting the woman with another bright grin, “Nothing I can think about, no.”

 

The raven startles when the pink-haired alpha slumps over the table, letting out a long-suffering groan, “Are you kidding ?! Don’t tell me you’ve been in a friends with benefits situationship for almost a year?!”

 

Sua, who’d stayed silent for most of the conversation with an air of exasperation and fondness, finally speaks up, “I expected this. I’m only sorry that Mizi expected anything more from you idiots.”

 

Ivan lets out a quiet sigh of relief. Not a psychic, then. Only terribly misinformed. 

 

“Nothing ‘more’ is going to go on, Mizi,” he says, wincing when he hears the bitterness in his tone. He clears his throat, and adds in a more even tone, “I’m his best friend, he’s mine. He gets ruts and he needed someone to help him who couldn’t get pregnant. End of story.” 

 

In an almost freakish display of how in tune they were, the two lovers simultaneously raised an eyebrow at him, sharing looks of doubt on the same beat. Ivan shifts in his seat, a little fearful. 

 

“Don’t look at me like that. It’s true. He got worried because his drummer got someone pregnant.”

 

“... Ivan, that was proven to be a false alarm three months ago,” Sua says, “somebody else got that girl pregnant.”

 

“It was a whole thing,” Mizi supplies, waving her arms for dramatic effect, “you weren’t there?” 

 

Ivan shakes his head, his brows furrowed, “It was probably the week I had to practice for my thesis defense. It was the only week of Till’s rehearsals I wasn’t able to attend.”

 

It sounds interesting, too, Ivan pouts, petulant, how come Till never told me about it?

 

“I’ll tell you all the details! Don’t worry, you don’t have to be so—” The pink-haired alpha sniffs the air, before pinching her nose at the pungent smell that reaches her, “—unusually sweet?”

 

She looks over at her girlfriend, brows knitted in confusion. Sua takes a whiff of her surroundings as well, and looks over at Ivan, surprised.

 

“I smelled it when you got here, but I thought it was the air drafts or something,” she purses her lips, deep in thought, “are you wearing new perfume?”

 

When Ivan shakes his head no, Sua’s eyes widen in alarm. She stands up, and leans over the table, looking panicked.

 

“Are you having mood swings?”

 

The beta blinks at her, taken aback, “What?”

 

She slams her hand on the table. Another diner shoots a glare at them, but she pays them no mind, “Answer the damn question!” 

 

“... Well, I mean, I have been feeling a little volatile lately, but—”

 

“Do you feel needy, like really needy?” 

 

Ivan flushes from his neck up to his cheeks, “That’s not—”

 

“Ivan, just answer.” Mizi advises, nervously glancing at Sua, who seemed to get increasingly distressed by the second. 

 

“... Yes, I think?”

 

“Have you gained any weight? Especially in the chest and hip areas?”

 

The raven shrinks, crossing his arms and looking self-conscious, “Is it obvious?”

 

Sua plops back down onto her seat, wordlessly, looking shell shocked. In the corner of her eye, she spots two red punctures on Ivan’s neck, and it’s only then that a dark expression takes over her face. 

 

“I’m going to kill him,” The omega mutters under her breath, sounding murderous, “I’m going to kill that damned twink!”

 

“Baby, baby,” Mizi consoles, looking a little lost and a lot worried, “what’s wrong? Why do you want to kill Till?”

 

Ivan breathes in, the fierce urge to defend Till lighting in his chest, “He didn’t do anything wrong.”

 

“He did,” Sua grits out, looking frustrated and close to tears, “maybe not on purpose. No, definitely not on purpose. But I don’t care. I’m still going to murder him.”

 

Mizi cups Sua’s cheeks, brushing the tears away from the smaller woman’s eyes, “What’s wrong? What did Till do?” 

 

The black-haired woman lets out a shuddering breath, “An omega,”

 

For the second time that day, Ivan is faced with world shattering news. A world record, if you asked him. 

 

“Till turned you into an omega.”