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The sound of the front door slamming shut stops all movement and fills the entire apartment with silence for several seconds, until it is followed by light footsteps and the rustling of shopping bags.
"I'm home!" Io's lively and sweet voice announces, echoing throughout the rooms.
Till tenses, and his hand moves swiftly to Ivan's mouth, covering it before the other boy dares to utter any sound that might betray him, as he seemed about to do, because right afterward he hears a muffled low groan, broken at the end by an involuntary movement between them. Till, too, has to bite his tongue to avoid making a similar noise, lowering his head and stifling gasps over Ivan's clothed shoulder as he fights the urge to rock back in the heat that surrounds and tightens his aching erection.
Ivan complains again, luckily just enough to reach only Till's ears. Even so, he has to raise his head to look at him reproachfully, which can't be much while his face feels like it's burning up and his fingers are trembling as they press against the other boy's cheeks.
Ivan looks back, turning his head and smiling beneath his gag, his pale face sprinkled with red and his pupils glowing crimson. If it were possible, they look like hearts, except that's biologically impossible and Till is probably imagining it because of the adrenaline and lack of oxygen.
"Are you home, boys?" his mother asks, getting closer and closer to the door.
Till feels himself panicking, tensing up completely again. He knows his mother wouldn't enter without knocking, but if he doesn't answer, she'll definitely invade his space out of pure concern.
Did he lock the door? He doesn't usually do that…
She knocks.
There is no answer.
"Till?"
He can't answer her, not like that. He knows his voice will sound broken, and he's not yet lucid enough to give an answer that doesn't sound like he's losing his tongue.
Did he really lock the door?
When he hears the handle move, but the door doesn't open, Till feels like he can sigh.
Before wasting any more time, he clears his throat.
"I-it's okay, mom," he replies, cursing the sudden stutter and how desperate it sounds. But it's better than nothing, he supposes. He squeals inwardly and bites his tongue again. "I was just... a little distracted."
"Oh," Io replied, sounding calmer. Till would feel bad for worrying his mother like that, if he weren’t in a far less than ideal situation with her on the other side of the door, desperately hoping not to get caught. "I’m sorry. It’s okay, dear. Is Ivan with you?"
Till bites his tongue again, swallowing a sudden noise from deep in his throat as he feels another pleasurable squeeze in his aching cock, and turns his attention back to the boy he's barely pinned beneath him, trying to direct all the anger he can muster in his gaze while still buried deep inside the other's body. It can't be much, but then again, Ivan has never been afraid of his threats, because he can feel him smiling again beneath his hand.
Till clenches his teeth, his fingers pressing harder against the flushed cheeks, his nails digging in. Their bodies draw closer, and Ivan closes his eyes with pleasure, as if the mere act of being crushed by Till brings him joy. The low moan he lets out makes Till feel a twitch in both his eyebrow and groin.
He swallows loudly.
"He's here," he says, because it's better to tell him the idiot is still in the house than to have to force him to sneak out the window later, with the high probability of being discovered and ruined. "He just went to the bathroom."
Ivan opens his eyes again, and although he says nothing, Till can read in his pupils a 'seriously?' that could be loaded with a good dose of mockery, 'seriously, Till? Is that all your brain was capable of?'
Till prefers to ignore the default Ivan voice that lives in his head. If he doesn't listen to the real one, he won't listen to that extra one.
"So, how are your studies going?"
Till closes his eyes and presses his lips together, trying to muster all the patience and calm he can muster to avoid some kind of breakdown right now. All he wants is for things to be over. Or rather, for him to be over, shouldn't he? Because there's one problem that he really doesn't want to become a future lunchtime joke. The awkwardness could kill him.
Besides, with most of his blood in his cock instead of his head, thinking of responses and excuses is incredibly difficult. He could say something stupid or worrying, and then Io would take it as a sign and open that door and…
In the midst of his slow nervous breakdown, Ivan, the heartless wretch, decides this is a good moment to wiggle a little from beneath him. The damned monster, who knows perfectly well that he's twice as strong as Till, lifts his hips, causing Till to sink a little deeper and elicit an almost moan of pleasure, which he fortunately manages to stifle by biting the other boy's clothed shoulder.
"Till?"
Till is going to kill Ivan when this is over.
"W-well, it's well," he finally exhales, pulling away from Ivan's shoulder while ignoring the trail of drool and the stain he's just left on Ivan's clothes. He blinks slowly as he becomes aware of his surroundings, and not just focus on the pleasant warmth surrounding his cock, though it's a bit difficult. Thankfully, hearing Ivan's low chuckle helps bring him back down to earth. "H-hey, mom, c-can we talk later? Now... isn't a good time."
"Ah. Okay, dear." There's a subtle hint of disappointment in Io's voice. Till is definitely going to kill Ivan after this. "If you need anything, you can come with me. I'll make dinner, okay?"
"Okay, mom."
The footsteps fade away, and, just as Till feels guilty for having upset his mother, all his anger at Ivan's malevolent deeds returns to him like a wave of unpleasant fury, the instant there is no longer a presence outside the room.
He suddenly thrusts his hips forward, plunging all the way to the hilt inside the cunt of the other boy, eliciting a start and another muffled moan from him. He hears a cry too, but Till is too annoyed to feel guilty, and Ivan isn't exempt from this kind of retribution for being a troublesome bitch.
His free hand quickly grips Ivan's waist tighter, keeping him perfectly aligned as he begins a slow in-and-out motion. The wet sound of his cock plunging into the moist heat echoes through the room, and the bed creaks slightly as it follows the movement of both their bodies on the mattress. Though it's only Till who moves this time, giving Ivan no room to protest, carefully pressing the tip of his cock deep inside the boy's cunt, feeling him tighten and making his legs tremble with each repetition.
Till stifles a moan, a low, husky groan against Ivan's ear. He doesn't remove his hand from Ivan's mouth for a moment, not while he can still hear him making those low noises of pleasure, which annoys him immensely. He knows Ivan is perfectly capable of remaining completely silent even in a situation like this, so this reaction of his only means he's acting to drive Till crazy.
"You're an idiot," he growls, letting his head fall forward, pressing his sweaty forehead against the back of Ivan's head, breathing on the shaved hair at the nape of the neck. He maintains a faint rhythm, intense but too slow to reach climax. But there's not much he can do if there's no privacy left. "Why can't you just…?"
Ivan mumbles something, catching Till's attention. He hesitates for a second, biting his lip and slightly raising his eyebrows, before sighing and carefully removing his hand, feeling guilt bubble in his chest at the sight of the red mark on his palm and the crescent moons of his nails on Ivan's face. But all that worry is overshadowed when the idiot smiles at him openly, in that creepy way that never bodes well for Till.
"But it wasn't me who couldn't keep his penis in his pants, Till," he says, reminding Till of the most important and incriminating point of the whole scenario.
Till feels himself blushing, much more intensely than before, which is simply embarrassing and should be impossible. He hadn't even remembered that. Then, he thinks honestly, deeply, feeling ashamed of himself for recalling it all; is this all his fault? Certainly. The supposed study date actually ended like this, with both of them having no intention of studying, tangled up in Till's bed, because Till is a needy guy and Ivan will always take advantage of every ounce of physical affection shown to him, and that seems to include having sex instead of studying for the next day's exam.
Till is a mess. He doesn't even have anything to defend himself with; he can only swallow hard and tilt his head, trying to cope with the heat that floods his face and takes away his breath.
He hears laughter above his head. He doesn't have the will to get angry with Ivan for laughing at him.
"Well, if there's nothing left to do..." Ivan says, with a hint of mock resignation. Till has to swallow a gasp and clutch the bedsheets as soon as he feels another squeeze around his sensitive erection, jerking his head up to meet his boyfriend's mischievous grin. "Why don't we just get on with it? I'm getting bored doing nothing here."
Till barely notices that he had already stopped earlier, and a wave of shame rises in his throat again. He clenches his teeth and glances to the side, his hands sliding down to entwine around Ivan's waist, pulling them together once more, perfectly pressed together; Ivan's back against Till's torso. And he hears Ivan's gasp as he reaches that peak inside him again with a sharp thrust, almost kissing his womb. A trickle of sweat runs down his temple as he surrenders to the pleasure once more, a sudden thought flashing through his mind.
"We should have... Hah..." He cuts himself off suddenly, burying his face in the back of Ivan's neck as his eyes sting softly, his hips picking up speed, thrusting through the humid heat, his ears burning from the increasingly loud sloshing sounds. "... Hm... Maybe condoms...? I had to put one on..."
"Are you worried about that now?" Ivan jokes, cutting himself off immediately afterward, letting his head fall forward against a pillow, breathing heavily. Till feels his head spin at the sight before him: Ivan, his face and neck red, his eyes trembling and wild, biting his lip, barely glancing back to meet his gaze, wrinkling his brows and nose with pleasure each time Till sinks back into his insides. "Don’t you think it’s…? Ngh…"
"Late, yes. I'm sorry," he laments, leaning down to rub his forehead against the back of the other boy's neck. "I didn't think..."
"Clearly you didn't think."
"Don't interrupt me."
"I'm going to interrupt you every time you waste time, Till. How long do you think…? Ah…!"
Instinctively, Till's hand rises again, covering Ivan's mouth once more, even though the boy is already biting his lip to shush himself. Till can feel the fang digging into his finger, but it doesn't matter. He's more interested in the pleasing sight of Ivan being taken by surprise, eyes comically wide and hair disheveled on the pillow, staring at Till as if he's just committed some atrocity. He can only smile in return, finally satisfied with what he sees before him.
Till increases the pace of his thrusts, watching Ivan crumble a little more, his eyes closing, his long lashes glistening with faint, unshed tears. Till leans down to bite one of his shoulders again, only to stifle his own sounds, as his hand slides down Ivan's waist, encountering resistance due to the limited space between the bed and the young man's heavy body. Fortunately, Ivan seems to sense his intentions and carefully lifts himself up, giving him room until Till's fingers reach the space between his legs.
He plants a kiss on Ivan's neck as he presses against the warm, hairless mound (it still bothers him when there's nothing there, and he knows Ivan does it on purpose to annoy him), feeling the slick quickly stain his hand as it slides down between the parted lips. He feels it harden a little more as he senses the other boy's level of arousal, biting his lower lip when he hears a low moan, muffled by the pillow, now stained with saliva, as his fingers carefully rub and press the swollen clit that had been ignored all this time. It almost makes him feel guilty for not having properly pleased Ivan, but then he remembers that the idiot has been especially cruel with his comments today, so he pushes that guilt away and bites Ivan's shoulder as he increases the speed of his touch.
Ivan moans softly, really softly, a husky, broken sound. Till hopes it doesn't go beyond the walls of their room. He really doesn't want his mother to find out and get a lecture that lasts for hours. He just wants to enjoy a peaceful afternoon with his partner. To get tangled up with him until he loses his mind.
He sinks deep again, feeling every pressure of Ivan's walls as his cock pushes against his most sensitive spot, while the intensity of his touches on his sensitive clit intensifies slightly. He soon realizes things are getting wetter as he repeats the position. And Ivan's hands, previously just resting on the mattress, now almost tearing at the sheets and gripping the headboard. He doesn't lift his head, sinking even harder into the pillow, but Till can see the bright red flush in his ears, neck, and the back of his head. He doesn't make a sound, but he doesn't need to. Till can feel his hips trembling.
"D-do you like this better?" he asks gently, and although he expected to sound mocking, his tone comes across as pleading, like it always does when he seeks praise for a job well done. He feels pathetic, but as he watches Ivan squirming pleasingly beneath his weight, he doesn’t find it bothers him. "Ivan…?"
Ivan doesn't answer, but almost jumps up suddenly, digging his knees into the bed in an involuntary movement, a hair's breadth away from pushing him off. Fortunately, Till is quicker and pushes him down by the waist to keep him subdued, but then a squeal almost escapes from deep in his throat as the pressure on his cock becomes impossibly stronger. It makes him roll his eyes upward and, his thoughts lost to the sudden pleasure, he clings to Ivan's waist and thrusts desperately into his cunt, reveling entirely in the convulsions of Ivan's orgasm.
He hears the other gasp, but barely registers it. It feels so good. He doesn't want to stop. He's so close now.
"T-Till…" Ivan suddenly speaks, his legs trembling and his gaze barely glancing back, his expression shifting between desire and fear. His voice, though a whisper, is full of alertness. "T-Till, wait, I… I think I'm going to…"
Till doesn't hear him. With a moan he can't even recognize as his own, he presses his face against Ivan's back, inhaling deeply, intoxicated by the scent of sweat and sex, continuing to thrust into his tight cunt, one hand instinctively sliding down to the boy's clit and rubbing it rapidly, desperately seeking the same reaction as before. He needs him so much, he was so close, and now it's becoming a lingering feeling. Till wants him again.
"Till, wait…!"
The next thing Till knows, that wave of spasms is returning, pushing him to the edge and causing him to let out a frankly pathetic groan, thankfully muffled because his mouth is pressed against Ivan's back the whole time, as he continues thrusting his cock forward, coming hard inside Ivan, releasing string after string of warm come into his burning interior. He barely registers the pressure of a spurt outside against his scrotum or the way Ivan throws himself back onto the pillow to stifle another, much louder, moan. There is nothing but the buzzing, intoxicating pleasure of the strongest climax he has ever experienced.
Too slowly, he feels the veil of arousal lift, causing him to gradually halt his thrusting as overstimulation begins to build in his worn cock, but he stays inside a little longer, simply sighing as the pressure eases. His mind is still fuzzy, and he can only manage to pull part of his face away from Ivan's shirt, now damp with his saliva and tears, to try and look at him. All he sees, however, is Ivan's furiously red, shaved nape, which makes him grin like an idiot for the next ten seconds, since it's not common for this guy to blush so much, not even during sex.
However, as time passes, he notices a tremor in the other's body, and all the alarm bells start ringing. Till jumps up, placing both hands on the bed and trying to get closer to the other boy to look for signs of anything on his face, only to stop abruptly when he realizes he's still deep inside him.
Looking down at where his cock is nestled between Ivan's cunt, rather moist lips, he feels his whole face burn painfully, and there's a twitch in his groin. Nevertheless, he quickly pushes the thought away and looks back at Ivan, trying to lean over him.
"Ivan, are you okay?" he stammers, feeling stupid because of how his words keep cutting him off. But Ivan doesn't answer, doesn't even mock his clumsiness, which only makes things worse. It makes Till pale. "Did I... hurt you? Ivan? Ivan, I..."
"You're an idiot."
Ivan's sudden remark, delivered in a completely unaffected voice, leaves Till reeling for a second, his brain taking longer than usual to process even who he is. Just when it all seems to click, his eyebrows furrow in displeasure.
"No. You're the idiot," he replies, clicking his tongue and letting out a sigh somewhere between frustrated and relieved, lowering his head again, not daring to press his forehead against Ivan right now. "Why did you stay silent...? Wah...!"
Till is easily pushed aside. He stifles a hiss as his groin suffers from the cold air outside, and immediately sits up on the mattress as he watches the other boy lift his face from the pillow, hastily wiping his tear-streaked cheeks. The fear that he might have hurt him returns with full force, before he reminds himself that if he had truly been hurting him, Ivan would simply push him aside as he just did so easily. So, he supposes, his crying is simply…
A feeling of pride rises in his chest, and he can't help the smug smile that forms on his lips. Ivan glances at him sideways, not a trace of amusement in his large, wine-red eyes.
"Why are you smiling?" the black-haired boy asked, his tone unusually grumpy. "Do you have any idea how much noise you made? You sounded like a pig in a slaughterhouse."
Instantly, Till's smile disappears and his face feels burning hot again.
"That's not true," he defends himself, maintaining a confident facade, even though inside he's trembling with fear. If he really did make a scene, then it's only a matter of time before…
Look towards the door. A couple of seconds pass.
There is no blow.
He clicks his tongue in disgust when he turns his attention back to Ivan.
"I told you no… Ouch!"
"You made a mess too," Ivan scolds him after tapping him a little too hard between the eyes.
His monotone voice sends shivers down Till's spine, especially since the other boy has a blank expression, which usually means something dangerous is about to happen. However, both things lose some of their effect when Ivan is still in his bed, naked from the waist down, with semen leaking from his vagina, and a trembling in his legs that's hard to hide. Furthermore, the way he's poking his lower lip with his fang makes it clear he's trying hard to maintain a false seriousness.
Furthermore, when he looks down at the mattress, Till sees the exact moment Ivan's eyes falter and his expression fills with a strange feeling. Embarrassment, perhaps? Except he's never seen Ivan embarrassed, so he couldn't know for sure. Looking down at the same spot as the other, he allows himself to think that might be it.
There's a really big wet stain on his sheets.
"... Did you pee yourself?"
He receives another blow between the eyes.
"Ow! Fine! It was a damn joke!" the gray-haired boy squeals, covering his forehead in fear and pain, tears welling in the corners of his eyes and pouting in annoyance. Ivan ignores this, maintaining a completely neutral expression, which Till now knows is actually to hide the embarrassment he's feeling. He forces another mischievous smile onto his lips. "I know what squirting is, you know."
"Hooray for me." Ivan rolls his eyes. "I won't have to give you another biology lesson. But tell me, genius, what do you think your mother will think when she sees something like this coming in? Do you have a plan?"
"Ah, yes, that..." Till exhales a long sigh of pain, running his hands through his hair in desperation. "Damn it... I'm just going to change the sheets! I don't think she'll ask..."
"... Fine," is all Ivan says, which could also be translated as 'this is your problem now, solve it yourself,' something that usually only happens when Till has done things Ivan doesn't like at all. Unusual. A real punishment.
Although it's a bit unfair. If that's really how it turned out, shouldn't he have felt good? Ivan's being a jerk right now just because he's embarrassed, no doubt.
But in the end, it's still Till's fault.
With another long sigh, he gets out of bed first, grabbing his clothes and dressing quickly. He barely suppresses a grimace of disgust at the tenderness and mushy feeling that lingered in his groin, and heads quickly toward the bathroom.
"Where are you going?" Ivan asks, still on the bed, but moving somewhat hurriedly toward the edge. Even with his face still blank, Till can see a flicker of fear in his eyes.
"I’m just going to get something to clean you up," he announces, his tone deliberately calm and almost gentle. It must be enough, because Ivan stops before he can stand, which actually makes Till a little sad. If he had stood up, he would have seen him stumble; a crack in the other boy’s always perfect posture. But he’s content to see his shoulders relax. "Wait there."
"Ah, yes. No problem. I'll stay in bed with cold fluids."
"Stop being a bitch. Besides, they're your fluids."
"It was your fault."
Till decides it's not worth arguing, so he turns around and disappears into the bathroom, grabbing a towel and some warm water. Hopefully, after he's clean, Ivan will forget his embarrassment and go back to acting like himself: mocking and less cruel. He'll still annoy Till, but at least he'll help him finish his homework.
Ah, now that he remember...
Upon leaving the room, after straightening their clothes, washing away any trace of sex, and airing out the room, Io greets them in the kitchen with a friendly smile, completely unaware of what the boys must have done behind closed doors. Or so Till hopes, but Ivan tells him that the way he blushes so intensely will soon give them away. Till complains under his breath about this, excusing himself by saying he can't control it even if he wants to.
In any case, at least it seems that his mother really has no idea. The rest of the afternoon passes calmly; the three of them eat together, since Ivan is never in a hurry to return home and Io always seems happy to have him visiting, so lunch becomes a little noisier, especially because Ivan teases Till several times, eliciting annoyed and embarrassed reactions from him, while his mother laughs and mentions how happy she is that they are having a good time.
Only when Ivan leaves, shortly before sunset, does Till return to his room and pack away all the notebooks he doesn't really need, since he's only bad at math, not the subjects Ivan tutors him in. But the same old excuse remains. Alone, he wonders if Ivan has noticed and is just taking advantage of him too, or if he's truly oblivious. Not that it matters, anyway; it's still a good excuse to lock themselves in his room together after school.
As he finishes putting away the last notebook, he notices someone stop in the doorway. Turning around, he sees his mother. He smiles at her cheerfully, the earlier awkwardness now dissipated by the time they've spent together without incident to betray his misdeeds.
"Is something wrong, mom?" he asks briefly, before returning to the desk, grabbing the scattered drawing pencils while feeling Io's gaze on his back.
"No, nothing, dear," she replies, in her usual cheerful tone. "I just wanted to know if you have any clothes you'd like to wash."
"Oh, yes," he says reflexively, before tensing up as he remembers what laundry he has to do. He turns to smile at his mother again, though he feels a tug on his cheeks and knows it must look half-forced, but it would be more suspicious if he suddenly became serious. "I… I have to put my sheets on. But I’ll do it myself!" he announces quickly, starting to sweat profusely and avoiding eye contact as he gathers his colored pencils more hurriedly. "You don’t need to worry…"
Io hums in affirmation.
"Okay. By the way…"
His mother suddenly approaches. Till stands still, back straight, a look of deep confusion in his eyes. Io, with all the calm in the world, takes one of his hands and places something in his palm. Her kind and understanding smile never fades.
"You should always be prepared, dear. We don't want anything unexpected to happen."
She pulls her hand away, turns around, and leaves.
When Till, still completely confused and rather lost, loses sight of her, he finally looks down at what they left in his hand, and then his whole face drains of color. His pencils fall to the floor and, after five whole seconds, he jumps up and lets out a shriek, throwing the box of condoms into the air as if it had burned him.
"What the hell…! Mom…! Oh, my God…"
Till hides behind his hands, concealing the intense blush on his entire face.
He's really not good at hiding secrets.
(At least, he's relieved, he didn't get a lecture on sex education.)