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Till is currently hiding from his stupid calculus professor. Well right now it's less hiding, more sprinting.
See, Till doesn't have an inherent issue with math. It's just that he's always been less of a science and math guy and more of an arts and music guy. So when he walked into his third period math class on the first day of sophomore year after getting lost repeatedly in the stupidly long halls just to be yelled at for thirty minutes straight, lets just say he didn't start liking math any more.
So Till is more or less booking it to make sure Mr.Urak doesn't catch sight of him.
It's not even just that though, this guy is honestly just the plain worst.
He picks on Till everyday and asks him to read his homework answers even though he knows damn well that Till didn't do it.
He has literally called Till an idiot in front of the whole class. (Which Till is pretty sure goes against some teacher code or something.)
Till's pretty sure that if it was still legal to beat kids, Mr.Urak would have him dead in a ditch by now.
So instead of being publically humiliated for seventy-five minutes, Till sends a silent beg for forgiveness to his mom and scurries past his calculus class as fast as he can. Using his experience from the three times in total he's attended gym class this semester to go as fast as he can.
Once past his own personal hell of a class, he hooks a right and keeps booking it down the halls, praying to all the God's he doesn't believe in that if he gets caught running by a hall monitor that its not Luka, dear God let it not be fucking Luka.
This is, obviously, not Till's first time skipping, his attendance record is all the proof of that. Till of course knows all of the best places to hide from the monitors and staff who are patrolling the halls.
But the problem with those, are that they're far too well known by other hooligans, and—no matter what Mr.Urak tells you—Till isn't a fucking hooligan. So Till has never once in his life wanted to be near them or associated with them—unless they're feeling kind enough to bum him a cigarette, of course.
No, today he's headed to his secret hide out. His own little reprieve from hell if you will.
Till is very commonly known as an outsider, if him skipping didn't tip you off to that. A freak show of sorts. All because he prefers to wear black and enjoys wearing a little eyeliner and some mascara, sue a guy for having a fashion sense. It's not his fault he does make-up better than half the girls in this school.
Of course, when you go to a school filled with opulent trust fund babies and they see someone who is slightly different you're going to get bullied. Being trans really didn't help him out either.
So in one of his many attempts to run away from the idiot jocks trying to shove him into a locker or some shit, he found the ultimate safe haven for emo loners.
After what feels like years of running down desolate hallways he's able to find what he's looking for.
Opening a rusted door that lacks a label now, he pushes all seventy-one kilograms he has into the door and it creeks only barely under the stress.
After a good minute or five of Till pushing, it finally gives way to the most beautiful sight he has ever seen.
An old classroom with once probably bright decorations now dull and barely holding onto the walls. Splayed all across the room are half broken and abandoned instruments, looking as if they were only temporarily abandoned and at any moment a late class will come rushing in to pick them right back up, but Till knows better.
The fact that Till has come here everyday for almost a year and half and the thin layer of dust covering everything gives it away. Well, covering almost a everything.
In the center of the room proudly displayed like a precious artifact is a guitar. Till's guitar.
Well it was the schools guitar, but no ones been in this classroom for who knows how long, so Till has rightfully claimed it as his own.
Plus the previous owner clearly didn't treat it right considering the sorry state Till had found it in. Till had spent his measly amount of pocket money to buy strings, a few picks, and all the things this poor guitar needed to clean it up. Then finally, Till gave it a name.
Till walks to the center of the room where Freddie resides and picks him up, careful not to disturb the amps still attached to it.
He hasn't been in his little safe room for a week or so, weak to his moms pleads to "Just stay in class, Bunny." Hearing his childhood nickname and seeing her tired eyes and weak body from long shifts he had managed to go a whole seven school days before folding and skipping, but only his third period! He's not that much of a disappointment to skip his last period art class.
The time apart has left Freddie a little out of tune, so with a heavy sigh Till begins tweaking the frets and playing notes to tune him back to its former glory.
Finally when Freddie is back in tune Till is able to go through his mental list of songs he can play without his music sheets. Normally he would keep them on him, but he had abandoned them at home thinking he wouldn't skip today.
Most of the ones he knows by heart are original pieces but Till easily picks his favourite of the few to warm up his fingers.
However he doesn't even get one note in before six sharp knocks ring out against the steel of the door. For fuck's sake, Till can't get a single moment of peace in this shit hole.
"Are you not supposed to be in class, Till?" A low grating voice chides and Till's head snaps up and he groans because he knows that damn voice.
Speaking of jocks who bully him, here's his sorta kinda childhood best friend. Or at least he use to be. They stopped talking much around the same time Ivan hit a huge growth spurt and learned to stop letting people catch him stealing Till's pencils to annoy the fuck out of him. Till being public enemy number one and Ivan being the schools golden boy didn't help their situation much either.
Then on top of that Ivan is the star quarterback and student vice president, so according to apparently every they shouldn't have been hanging out in the first place.
"What do you want, asshole. How the hell did you even find me." Till sneers, already annoyed just from seeing his face. Unlike his earlier aggression, Till softly places Freddie back on his stand and crosses his arms. He refuses to make Freddie suffer because of Ivan's misdeeds.
Ivan easily evades the question with a non committal hum, closing the door behind him before moving in closer and starts making his way towards Till.
He crosses the room with lazy steps, not stopping his pursuit untill he's backed Till into a wall with their faces close enough Till can practically taste his overly expensive cologne.
Ivan's gaze is so intense, completely locked onto Till like there's no where else in the world he'd rather be and it's disgusting. But Till's other option is looking at the plushness of Ivan's lips and he can't help but notice the little dent in his bottom lip from the constant pressure of the odd tooth he has.
Till can't stop it when his breath hitches in his throat and he's close enough to catch the bob of Ivan's adams apple and catch how much farther his pupils manage to blow out when Ivan hears it.
The red at the centers have completely swallowed the black of his eyes and Till can't help but think that it can't be healthy but it's hot nonetheless.
He raises a pierced eyebrow at him in an unspoken question and gets front row seats to watching Ivan followsl the motion with rapt attention, completely in la la land.
As amusing as that is, Till is looking for an answer and when Ivan takes what Till considers is far too long to answer he takes matters into his own hands.
"Did you come with some of your little friends to beat me up during class time, that's not very forthcoming of you Mr.Vice president." Till mocks and Ivan finally snaps out of whatever that was and smirks.
"Don't worry, it's just me."
They sit in silence for a few moments, stuck in a silent staring contest, Till glaring at Ivan and Ivan admiring Till. As has always been since childhood, Till breaks first.
He surges forward with far more force than necessary and connects their lips. Their teeth clack against each others and Till hopes he breaks Ivan's perfect fucking teeth.
Ivan groans immediately, hand fitting around Till's waist like second nature, because at this point it is.
Their lips move together easily, though Till supposes almost a year of this whole song and dance will do that.
Ivan nips greedily at his lip ring, tugging and pulling and being an all-around bully, clearly enjoying the way it makes Till shiver. Till retaliates by snaking a hand into his perfectly styled hair, carding his hands through it before grabbing a handful and tugging hard.
Ivan moans into the kiss like the little freak masochist he is and Till drinks it all in. The longer they go the more aggressive it all gets.
At some point Ivan's other hand had joined his first and the feeling of his larger hands around him, almost fully encompassing his waist makes a whine escape from the darkest depths of his throat only spurring Ivan on.
He makes quick work of shifting their positions, slotting a knee against Till's crotch and pressing just enough to make send shivers up Till's entire body.
Till eventually breaks away from the heated kiss because even though breathing was so last year, apparently his science teacher was right when she said it was a human necessity. Huh, who would've thought?
Till has to push against Ivan's chest to stop him from chasing Till's lips like a heat seeking missile, their stamina difference clear as day in these scenarios.
"Did you-"
"Of course I locked the door, babe." Till scowls at being interrupted mid sentence but since his question was answerwd let's the fuck face kiss him again anyways.
This kiss is slower, softer, but still filled with the intense need only hormone riddled high schoolers could pull off.
Ivan's leg is still sat snuggly between Till's thighs, but it's just that. Sat there. Till can feel the heat in his groin grow stagnant at the lack of any friction, at the lack of action from Ivan. But the guy seems perfectly content mauling his lips and Till refuses to rut against his leg like a stupid fucking dog.
Till does whine into the kiss though, a silent plead for him to do something. Because Till is desperate enough to beg.
But Ivan is not only a masochistic freak, but also a sadistic asshole who hates seeing Till happy. So instead of just giving Till what he clearly wants, he just chuckles and when Till whines again instead of giving Till that sweet sweet spark of pleasure he's been begging for he uses the opportunity to bully his way into Till's open mouth.
Their tongues intertwine, clashing together and making disgusting wet noises that shouldn't turn him on as much as they do.
Ivan explores his mouth like a starved man, licking at the walls of his cheeks and running his tongue along his teeth like he's trying to memorize the layout of his mouth atom by atom.
Till tries to give push back but is easily overpowered, already weak from Ivan finally pressing his knee back into his crotch. It's harsh and he's rubbing so roughly against his clit that Till sees stars behind his eyes because it hurts so good.
Till's grip on Ivan's hair has tightened so much that he swears he's ripped a few strands out, but if he did Ivan remains completely unbothered by it.
One of Ivan's hands has begun to move, caressing the expanse of his stomach and Till is starting to feel woozy from the heat of it all.
Till is the one to pull away first again, and Ivan makes a noise of complaint but let's him escape easily this time. He moves quickly to take off Till's choker and starts sucking on Till's neck like some fucked up vampire.
Their chest heave with the effort to regain the air they had lost but Ivan doesn't seem to mind. His breath is hot against Till's neck and the sensation of him sucking on the delicate skin is addictive.
"You could've helped me with the door you know." Till complains between held back moans and wimpers, petting the area of Ivan's head Till had previously been using as a tug toy.
Ivan just hums, teeth grazing where he's most sensitive and Till can't help but keen under the attention. He feels more than sees Ivan smirk, laving his tongue over the area he just took a bite out of, soothing kisses onto it.
He only pulls away only once he's done it a few times over, completely covering Till's neck and he doesn't think he has enough concealer left after the last time they did this to cover them all up.
Ivan pulls back only far enough to admire his work and makes a low pleased noise from the back of his throat. It sends more jolts of pleasure down to Till's cunt, reminding him that he's sickeningly wet.
He peppers a few more kisses into the rapidly bruising skin before finally responding. "Yes, I could have. But you just looked so cute and determined as you struggled to open that door, who was I to stop you?"
"My boyfriend!?" Till growls, and Ivan clearly has no survival instinct because he begins nipping at one of Till's many ear piercings.
Repercussions come in the form of Till's palm swatting at the back of his head. Ivan, sadly, has never felt shame in his life so that just makes him giggle.
He shifts back slightly pulling his knee back and pulling Till closer as he rests his forehead against Till's. Their eyes meet and his gaze is so intense and full of devotion it almost makes Till nauseous with the feeling of reciprocation.
"I missed you, baby." He murmmers, rubbing comforting circles into the skin of his hips where his one hand still rests.
"We saw each other at lunch." He points out.
"From across the room." Ivan counters, staring at Till like it's his fault the football team hates him meaning he can't sit with Ivan.(If they had it Ivan's way, then it'd be Till on Ivan's lap, so maybe it's a good thing the entirety of the football team are homophobic bigots.)
He holds Ivan's face in his hands and rubs comforting circles into his perfectly clear skin. "I just don't want you to suffer because of me." He sighs.
Ivan's expression goes gravely serious as he pulls Till impossibly closer to him."You know I don't care what others think, not when you're all that's ever mattered to me."
That just makes Till feel worse. He can't just let Ivan throw away his perfect life for him.
He wants to argue with him, fight him on this, tell Ivan that he's not worth it. But his face still feels flushed from all the kissing and the way Ivan's looking at him makes his heart feel all goopey in his chest.
So he just sighs and nods his head in agreement because maybe, just maybe, this won't end so bad.
Maybe Ivan's right, and all that matter is having each other.
He meets Ivan's gaze, so full of warmth and reverence and happiness at being able to share with everyone that he's with Till of all people. And Till honestly doesn't know what Ivan sees in him to be so utterly and entirely devoted to him.
But tucking his head under Ivan's chin and into his defined chest, he thinks he doesn't need to know to still cherish Ivan's love. To cherish him.
"I missed you too, idiot."
It's just like Till said, Ivan learned to stop letting people see him fucking with Till. Doesn't mean he ever really stopped.