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Since he was a child, Ivan loved the stars more than anything in the world.
He found something so beautiful in gazing up at the galaxies, the celestial world that existed beyond what he knew. What existed out there, Ivan often thought about it. He saw beauty in the mystery, in what existed in the universe around him.
Ivan's love for the stars mirrored his fascination with the unknown, the vastness of the cosmos captivating his imagination. He often found himself pondering the mysteries and intricacies of the universe, marveling at the beauty that lay beyond his grasp.
The same type of beauty Ivan found in him.
Just as it was the stars, Ivan found him unattainable. And just like the stars he'd always chased after, Ivan longed to have him. To make him his everything- his god, his universe, his...
“Till?”
As expected, Till doesn't stir. Quietly, Ivan gazes upon him- the little crease in his brow, the scratch blooming over his cheekbone.
Gently, he ran his finger over it, his eyes lowering. He quickly reaches to press the button on the collar, the muzzle unclicking and falling away.
And as always, just the sight of him does things to his heart.
Carefully as ever, Ivan leans closer, his fingers trembling as he brushes a lock of hair from Till's bruised forehead. He stills when the other stirs, his eyes fluttering open to meet Ivan's gaze for a split second, before turning away.
“Ivan?” Till’s voice is breathless, his eyes lost in a daze. It takes a few seconds for him to realize what’s going on.
“What…” Till’s brow furrows. “What are you…”
“I couldn't sleep.” Ivan admits, all in one breath, his next words tumbling out a little too quickly. “I wanted to see you.”
At that, Till pursed his lips tightly. He glances off to the side, his eyes shining with something unfamiliar. Something Ivan hadn't seen before.
Was it regret? Confusion?
“Still. You're not supposed to be here,” Till murmurs. He shifts around, the clanks of his bindings too loud in the stifling silence of the room.
“I know.” Ivan leans back. He notices Till's gaze linger for a few more seconds before he rolls his eyes.
He lets out a soft scoff under his breath.
“Yeah? Then you should know that you'll get in a fuck ton of trouble if anybody catches you here, idiot.”
As if that even mattered. Ivan sighs.
“I don't mind.”
Till's incredulous gaze meets his, and Ivan feels the weight of his words sinking in. The clasp of the collar around Till's neck rattles softly as he shakes his head.
“What? Do you hear yourself?” Till blurts out. “Honestly. I don't know what the fuck goes on in your head.”
Ivan doesn't know either. Most of the time he wishes he did.
"It's better that way." Ivan lazily closes his eyes, leaning over and resting his head against Till's shoulder. He can’t help but notice the way Till stiffens before his body relaxes, his gaze lowering.
"Whatever." Till's voice lowers. "Just don't come crying to me if you get punished for sneaking out."
Ivan shrugs.
"It'd be worth it, anyhow." Ivan mutters.
Till raises an eyebrow. "What would be?"
"Being with you."
“Ah.” Till’s voice sounds strained. Tight. For a moment, all Ivan can do is just sit there in awkward silence- his stomach churning as he searches his mind for what to say.
He’s never been good at small talk. Not once. Not since they were children, and definitely not now. No matter how many years have passed, nothing had changed.
And so, he asks the first thing on his mind. The first thing gnawing away at him.
“Is this how you’ve been sleeping lately?” Ivan glances at him. "...Against a wall?"
Till blinks. For a moment, he seems surprised by Ivan's question.
“Huh? Yeah, I guess.” Till mutters, his words dripping with venom. “If Urak lets me sleep at all.”
Ivan’s hands clench tightly at his sides. God, he can't imagine.
It was cruel. Inhumane. Ivan doesn't know how he's done it for so long- and he doesn’t know how he still managed to shine so brightly- with a brilliance that rivaled the most dazzling constellations, his light radiating and bursting forth with an intensity that-
“Hey. Uh, Ivan?” Till’s voice is strained, a hint of something there, his eyes pinned to something in the corner of the room. “Can I ask you something?”
Ivan's brow furrows with concern as Till's voice breaks through his thoughts. He shifts his gaze towards Till, noting the tension in his posture and the unease in his expression.
Even now, Till avoids meeting his gaze. Ivan lets out a soft breath, one he didn't realize he was holding.
“Anything.” Ivan mumbles, reaching out to gently stroke Till’s ash-gray hair. Again, he notices the other flinch before visibly slumping forward, instinctively leaning into his touch.
Ivan's gaze lingers on Till, silently pleading for the moment to stretch into eternity. If Till notices, he doesn't acknowledge it, and Ivan is quietly grateful. He would give anything in this moment to stay here, to stay with him.
"Do you…" Till's voice falters, his breathing unsteady. "Do you think Mizi will be okay?"
Ivan doesn't know. He doesn't know if any of them ever will be- but so long as he can see Till, feel him- he knows he's okay. And that's all he needs.
All he can manage is a simple nod, pushing away the painful thoughts that still linger, haunting him.
Will you ever look at me in that way?
Mizi, as it turns out, is far from okay.
Ivan can't even blame her, he can't tear his eyes away from the grotesque scene in front of him- the blood splattered all over the floor, over her dress.
He watches as they lead her away, eyes wide, Body frozen. Ivan knows that look- he knows it well- she's in shock, tears streaming down her face.
And of course, Till notices. He always does- she's all he ever seems to see.
All he ever saw.
“They killed Sua,” Till's voice trembles with barely contained fury. “Those sick bastards… they fucking killed her… just like that!”
Ivan remains silent, his attention drawn to the holographic display above. His eyes widen as he fixates on the screen, feeling his heart sink at the sight of the first name he sees.
The only name he ever sees.
“Till.” Ivan’s voice is soft. Careful. He glances at him once more, sighing softly.
“Fuck this all- fuck.” Till ignores him, his rage vibrates through every word, every swear. “It could be any of us next, it could be Mizi-”
“Till,” Ivan calls for him again, his voice steady and calm as ever.
Till’s head finally snaps up to look at him, his expression fierce.
“What?!”
Ivan gestures quietly towards the flickering hologram, directing Till's attention to the names juxtaposed against those of innocent strangers. His name.
He can see the moment realization finally dawns upon him, his teal eyes widening in horror. Shock.
And finally, rage.
“Fuck,” Till trembles, his hands balling into fists as he stares ahead. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”
Ivan doesn't say anything. He purses his lips tightly, watching as Till's agitation intensifies. With each restless step, Till's pupils dilate, a crazed energy emanating from his every movement.
“I won’t let them have me. I won’t let them win.” Till's voice trembles with fury, his resolve unwavering. “I swear, I'll kill every last one of them with my bare hands for what they did.”
“Careful. If they hear you saying these things, you’ll get hurt.” Ivan murmurs softly, his gaze fixated on every wound, every scar that mars Till's bruised skin.
“So what?!” Till snaps. “If it's for her, I don't give a shit what happens to me!”
And in an instant, Ivan stays quiet, his initial urge to protest dying back down in an instant. He can’t blame Till in the slightest.
After all, doesn't he feel the same way?
Ivan doesn't see Till for the rest of the day.
He tries not to think about it too much, but he can't help it anymore.
Was he hurt? No, he couldn’t be. Surely he was doing something else, maybe preparing for the upcoming battles, or…
“Dearest Ivan. What brings you here?”
At the sound of the soft, sweet voice, Ivan's head jerks up in confusion. He turns to find himself gazing into golden eyes, empty, but framed by long, thick lashes.
“...Luka?”
Luka's smile only grows wider as he takes another step forward, closing the little distance between them.
"Sorry, am I disturbing you?" He meets Ivan's gaze with his usual composed poise, his composure almost unsettlingly flawless. “You seem to have a lot on your mind.”
Ivan shakes his head curtly. He turns his attention back to the brackets, his brow furrowing.
“I’m fine.” Ivan clears his throat briskly. “I was just thinking about the future rounds.”
"Oh? I didn’t expect to find a fellow kindred spirit here." Luka's smile remains rehearsed and impeccably flawless. "Say, is there anyone in particular you’re worried to battle?"
Till. The answer was always him.
Ivan holds his tongue.
“No,” he replies tersely, avoiding Luka's gaze. “I'd win against anyone here.”
And immediately, Luka bursts out laughing, as practiced as ever.
“Wow. Look at you.” Luka tilts his head back, trying to meet his eyes. “Spoken like a true winner.”
“Naturally.” Ivan glances away. “I don’t intend to lose here.”
Luka smiles.
"In that case, then I’m sure you already have an idea who the weakest opponents will be," Luka muses. "I, for one, already have my pick."
“Do you now?” Ivan’s gaze narrows ever so slightly when their eyes meet once more.
“Mm. I’d pick your adorable little friend. You know the one.” Luka’s lips curl into a little smirk. “That little one you’re always following around. He seems easy. You must see it too, right?”
At that, Ivan's expression remains stoic. He side-eyes Luka, a flicker of suspicion in his gaze.
Was he deliberately trying to provoke him? By trying to get some kind of reaction out of him?
Ivan purses his lips together. Whatever he was trying to do- he wouldn’t let it work.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Luka sighs loudly. If Ivan didn't know better, he'd think he was actually disappointed.
"Ah, perhaps you don’t. I suppose it can’t be helped. I simply have experience when it comes to the stage, you know?" Luka turns to face him once more, his eyes devoid of all emotion. "I know how to win."
There it was. A subtle threat, delicately woven in between sweet, delicate words.
That's the game he wanted to play.
The corners of Ivan's lips curl into a perfect smile.
“Ah, who knows? Perhaps this winning strategy of yours was good enough for that one season.” Ivan smiles, raising an eyebrow when Luka’s eyes narrow, a little chill running down his spine the moment their gazes cross.
“Strategy? Who said anything about having a strategy?” Luka scoffs dismissively, waving his hand around. “My dear, this is how the world works. People like him- they're too sensitive to last in this place.” Luka muses, his gaze darkening. “They’re far too fragile. Weak.”
Ivan’s eyes narrow. Out of all the possible words that could describe him, he would rather be shot dead than call Till weak.
He was far from it.
So who in the world did Luka think he was? Speaking on Till's behalf, acting like he knew him and half the shit he’d been through, and…
"Now if we’re talking about someone like you… hm." Luka smirks up at him, startlingly close, his blue finger lightly pressing against Ivan’s chest. “You'd be fun to play with.”
Instinctively, Ivan takes a step back as Luka’s eyes flash with something that makes his skin crawl.
“I do hope we can play together, lover.” Luka tilts his chin higher, a mocking lilt to his tone. “Only time will tell, hm?”
Ivan stays perfectly still, not taking his eyes off Luka once. He watches as the blonde turns on his heel, flashing him one final look over his shoulder before sauntering off.
He doesn't say another word for the rest of the evening.
The next time Ivan sees Till, he’s silently fuming while watching Luka perform.
He’s glaring pure death at him- and for a moment, Ivan can’t help but wonder why. Ivan can see frustration in his eyes, the irritation- all of it.
There’s a new scratch on his cheek, one that immediately catches Ivan’s eye.
Did his Segyein hurt him? Did something happen?
A part of Ivan wants to ask what happened, but instead, he simply reaches out, brushing the pad of his thumb to it. The sudden gesture makes Till jolt up, his eyes widening in surprise.
“Ow.” Till hisses, knocking away his hand. “Watch it.”
The corners of Ivan’s lips curl into a little smile. He brings his finger to his lips for a split second.
“Sorry.” Ivan glances at him once more, reaching out and poking his cheek. “You’re grumpier than usual.”
“Oh, really? What gave it away?” Till mutters sarcastically, reaching up to bat away Ivan's hand again.
“Hm. Definitely grumpy.” Ivan murmurs to himself, raising an eyebrow when Till huffs.
“I’m not fucking grumpy. I'm just annoyed.” Till rests his chin in his open palm. "That Luka guy seriously pisses me off.”
Oh? Ivan blinks.
“Yeah?” Ivan glances at him from the corner of his eye, his gaze lingering. “Why's that?”
Till’s brow furrows together. For a moment, he looks deep in thought.
“I dunno.” Till mutters, his eyes darting off to the side. “He's… he's just so fucking smug.”
“Yeah." Ivan nods in agreement. "He is.”
“I don't know who he thinks he is." Till's eyes narrow. "It's so obvious that he thinks he's better than everyone else.”
“Mhm.”
“Fuck. Even hearing his voice pisses me off.” Till clenches his jaw tightly.
Ivan glances at him once again.
“Did something happen or-”
“No.” This time, Till’s response comes a bit too fast, his hands clenching into fists. “I just don't like him.”
Ivan blinks. So something did happen. He frowns.
“Are you-” he starts, only for Till to abruptly cut him off again.
“You know what? Fuck this. We're gonna make it to the end and kick his ass together.” Till mumbles under his breath. “You got that? No dying on me until then.”
Ivan’s eyebrow raises. He finally notices Till’s hand as he holds out his fist in Ivan’s direction, silently waiting.
Ivan exhales softly.
“Alright. We'll make it.” Ivan whispers. “Together.”
He taps his fist against Till’s before pulling back. That one word, still echoing in his head, again and again.
Together.
Till’s first performance ends up being a complete disaster.
Not for Till (of course), but rather, for his poor opponent.
Lights flash across the stage as Till belts into his microphone, his opponent staring at him with wide, horrified eyes. Ivan can’t take his eyes off him, pride swelling in his chest as Till sings. He can see the raw emotion pouring out of him, the intensity in every word as he belts out his love, loud enough for anyone in the galaxy to hear.
All of it, for her.
Quickly, Ivan glances over in Mizi’s direction. He notices her sitting silently, her expression unreadable.
Mizi simply stared forward, watching the performance and listening to his words, but her eyes stayed empty, devoid of their usual spark. Soulless. She hasn't been the same since that day, and all she can do is stare as Till continues to sing, pouring his heart into every verse.
Which only makes things worse. Ivan has no idea why.
With each passing second, she looks… horrified. It had gotten to the point where her face had completely drained of color, unshed tears welling up in her golden eyes. She looks like she’s going to be sick, and a part of Ivan can’t help but feel an irrational pang of jealousy.
How strange.
Quietly, Ivan turns his gaze back to the performance, to Till, his eyes lowering. He watches him strum at his electric guitar furiously, his ringed fingers grazing across the strings with practiced skill. Watching him perform with so much love, passion- with a smile so bright that it put all of the stars in the galaxy to shame.
“You’re the one that I’m feeling, it’s love,” Till sings, his voice raw with emotion as he closes his eyes. “Don’t be afraid.”
Ivan's heart skips a beat helplessly. He could feel inexplicable emotions rise up fiercely at the back of his throat, nearly choking him.
He swears that he would do anything to hear those words for himself. He’d do anything to be the reason behind Till’s smile, god, to be the reason for his happiness on stage.
Sometimes, he thinks about it. More often, he lies to himself about it.
Maybe one day, those words would be for him.
And one day, he'd feel Till’s love.
From the moment Ivan first stepped onto the stage, he felt numb.
He felt nothing as he looked around at the countless galaxies, at the thousands of eyes gawking at him. He feels them sizing him up from the moment he opens his mouth to sing, but even now, he’s blind to their gaze.
Right there, right in front of his eyes- Ivan sees Till. He sees him from the moment they met, to the moment they first held hands- to now. All fragments of memories, all figments of his imagination- but it keeps him going. It keeps him singing.
It keeps him alive.
The most desperate part of him could only hope. He could only pray to whatever god was out there that his words could reach him. That even for a split second, Till could hear him. That he would see him, finally look at him- and…
Well, whatever came next, he didn’t care.
Ivan held down his head, listening to the slow drum, his eyes fluttering shut. It takes a few moments to compose himself, his stoic expression plastered on his face as he stares forward.
He doesn’t know who his opponent is. What he’s singing for, if he’s singing to anyone. He didn’t even know his name- what his story even was.
In the end, it was all meaningless.
Ivan's grip tightened around the microphone, his knuckles white with strain. Despite the ache in his heart, he pushed past it all.
Ivan had to live. For his sake.
So he sings like it’s the last time he ever will.
He belts out the first thing that comes to mind, the first words that bleed and hurt him in the worst way. It feels almost cathartic, in a weird way.
“I can't reach you, so I imagine alone.” Ivan’s hands grip the microphone tighter. “You, who shines. I’ll stand next to you.”
God, even if he couldn’t have him, then at least he could imagine things were different. Until then, he would wait endlessly, until the ends of the universe.
If this is the way things had to be, then he’d accepted it. All frustration be damned.
His love had been like that. As destructive as a black hole, it consumed him entirely, destroying him from the inside out. With every second, he felt drowned in this love, greedily enveloping him in a grip of sorrow. An emotion so ugly and raw- Ivan knew that it was killing him inside.
He should take these feelings with him to the grave, but at this point, he didn't care. Till didn't care, so why should he?
And so, Ivan sings and pours his heart out, singing for the only person for him. The only person he’s ever loved.
The only person he could never have. No matter how far he chased, no matter what he did…
In the end, he’d only feel such sorrow. Empty, bottomless sorrow.
Black sorrow.
He extends his hand, gloved fingers passing through the figment of Till’s presence. Rain of shooting stars and shimmering constellations pour from the night sky, the cosmos illuminating the darkness overhead with celestial splendor.
The moments after… feel strange. Ivan blankly stares forward, an odd feeling of satisfaction filling the void in his chest. The roar of applause around him, completely soundless to his ears.
Is this how Till must have felt? As he sang to her, laid all of his feelings out, raw and bare, and…
Ivan stares forward, blocking out the sound around him. He hears a gunshot go off, the thud of a body beside him.
He doesn't look. He doesn't want to, nor does he care to.
Instead, he stares forward, only one person on his mind. The one person keeping him going. The only person in his broken heart.
Ivan exhales softly. Fuck.
Although this love hasn't killed him yet, it always feels like it will.
Ivan can't sleep.
He tosses and turns relentlessly in bed, remnants of adrenaline still pumping through his veins. He couldn't keep still- now that restless yearning was back, worse than ever now with the blend of anxiety and suppressed desire.
He hates it. He hates this. He hates that the only way he can feel something, anything at all, is with him in his thoughts.
Ivan’s lower lip trembles. He bites down a little harder, hard enough to draw blood before slipping his hand into his pants.
Till’s face immediately popping into his head.
Ivan’s teeth clench tightly as turns his head into his pillow, his slender hand palming himself firmly. He bucks into his hand once, twice, a shaky breath escaping past him.
Fuck.
Till would be rough, he thinks. Clumsy and inexperienced, without a doubt- Ivan doesn’t think he’s ever kissed, much less touched another man like that.
Ivan would have to guide him. To show him how it feels to let go, how to love, how to touch. He’d guide his hand through it all, kiss him, and... fuck.
He’s thought about it too much. The kinds of faces he would make- the beautiful sounds he’d make as he brought himself closer and closer to the edge. Had he ever thought about Ivan in this way? Fuck, did he even want to do something like this?
Maybe if he was Mizi-
Ivan forces the intrusive thought away in an instant. He doesn’t want to think of anyone else. Nobody but him.
And so, he imagines it all. His lanky hands on his body, shy and tentative, his scent; warm and familiar. His breathing, erratic and restless.
His body, his to love. Ivan lets out a soft moan.
It scares him how easy it is to imagine Till’s chapped lips clumsily pressing against his neck, sharp teeth lightly grazing the sensitive skin there, his hand sliding down his taut body. Just the thought of his touch makes Ivan shiver, his body alight with cold fire. His cock quivers in his fist, throbbing, as he bucks his hips once, twice.
It was a little too much to resist.
“Ivan.” Till’s voice, soft and dripping with affection. It sends a sharp ache through his heart just to hear, to imagine, his cock helplessly weeping in his warm palm.
In his fantasies, it was always like this. Till would finally say his name. Maybe he’d say it like that.
With a little gasp, Ivan pumps himself erratically, catching a bead of moisture that had been pooling at the tip of his cock with his thumb. His eyes fluttered as he bit back a gasp at the rush of sensation, a new mental image flooding into his mind.
He imagines Till under him. His eyes wide in surprise as Ivan holds him, unmakes him. Ivan would take his time through it all, he’d make sure everything was perfect.
He’d thrust into him once, twice, his gaze lowered as Till clutched onto him, overwhelmed with pleasure. He'd hold him close, kissing him as he edged closer to his orgasm.
He'd give Till everything. Whatever he asked for. Whatever he wanted. He'd give it all. Body, mind, heart.
“Ivan, f-fuck,” Till’s voice echoes in his head, his breathing ragged and rough. Even in his fantasies, he looks like a mess- but Ivan finds it beautiful.
Perfect.
Fuck, Ivan’s heart felt like it had leapt up into his throat. He swallowed, feeling his cock give another little pleasant tug at the mental image of Till squirming beneath him, the imagined sensation of his fingers digging into Ivan’s back, his warm breath against his ear.
“I love you.”
Ivan’s eyes squeeze shut.
There they are. The killing words. The final blow.
What Ivan wishes he could die hearing. Words he wants to hear forever, again and again. Words he's always wanted to hear, words he craves more than life itself.
“Please,” Ivan whispers, to no one at all. Maybe if there really was a god, maybe if someone was out there- they could hear him. Pity him.
Maybe they could do something, fuck.
“Till,” Ivan gasps out his name under his breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he works himself over and over. He could already feel the telltale tension in his lower stomach, the edge of mounting pleasure that began to build.
With a shudder, Ivan grit his teeth, pumping his cock a few more times before his entire body stiffened, shuddering with the intensity of the orgasm that throbbed through him. His cock jerked in his hand as he finally came, intense pleasure clouding every sense as his release washed over his body in waves.
When the final shudders had passed through his body, Ivan felt himself give out, flopping against the bed like dead weight as he focused on breathing- only one thought reverberating in his head. A reminder, one that he often thought about.
He chose this. He chose this pain.
He chose Till- knowing damned well that it was going to kill him.
With a soft sigh, Ivan's eyes flutter closed. Deep in his heart, he knows- but he doesn't regret a damned thing. He wouldn't change a thing.
At least he can stay here, in this moment. Alive.
Helplessly in love.
Oddly enough, Ivan hasn’t seen Till since his performance.
He hasn’t even caught a glimpse of him- which was definitely… new. Ivan didn’t know what to think.
The next day, absence gnaws at him, each passing moment feeling heavier than the last. A darker, belligerent part of him tells him that Till was avoiding him after his performance- but in the end, did it even matter?
Ivan had done what was right. He sang his heart out, just as Till did, and he sang for him. For him to hear, for him to understand his emotions. At least he’d gotten it out. He’d done what felt right and sang loud enough for everyone to hear.
Loud enough for Till to finally understand. That was good enough for him.
With these thoughts swirling in his mind, Ivan continues his search. He takes a step down the hall, quickly glancing around. A hopeful part of him scans the surroundings, longing to catch sight of ash-gray hair somewhere nearby. Perhaps Till was sitting alone at a table, lost in thought, or—
A quick tap on his shoulder startles him. Without a moment’s hesitation, Ivan spins around abruptly, his heart fluttering with hope.
…Which quickly crashes into disappointment.
For a moment, there’s a crack in his apathetic facade as bright gold eyes meet the darkest of black. He feels his heart sink with disappointment, a tinge of annoyance- and he realizes a little too late that it must show all over his face.
“Not who you expected to see?” Luka peers up at him, blinking innocently. His words, though seemingly harmless, carry an underlying tone that Ivan can't quite place. “Come now. You’re going to hurt my feelings.”
Ivan doesn't say anything. He simply brushes past Luka, only stopping when the latter takes another step in front of him, intentionally cutting off his path.
“Leaving so soon?” A hint of annoyance flickers in Luka’s eyes, barely noticeable. “I wanted to congratulate you on your win.”
Ivan’s eyes flash with irritation. He waves the other off dismissively, another fake smile plastered on his face.
“There’s no need for any of that.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Scoring a ninety in this competition is impressive.” Luka continues, dragging out each word, “If I didn’t know better, I’d say that you're going to utterly demolish the competition.”
Ivan’s eyes narrow. He watches Luka with suspicion, his eyebrow raising when the blonde begins to…
Laugh?
For the first time, Ivan is genuinely taken aback, his confusion mounting.
“Is there something funny?” Ivan’s stare hardens when Luka’s grin widens.
For a split second, he catches a fleeting expression in Luka's golden eyes, a subtle shift from his usual facade of perfection to something darker, almost menacing.
“Oh, I’m sorry. I was just remembering your performance.” Luka clears his throat briskly, “It's just… I never expected you of all people to be a romantic. A childish one, at that,” Luka muses, his tone dripping with mockery. “Black sorrow, was it? What an adorable way to describe a lost love- no. Someone out of reach.”
Ivan’s lips part, but no words come out. Luka grins at him, his amusement evident.
“I, for one, rather enjoyed your little performance- even if it made me nauseatingly sick.” he adds, his tone laced with the slightest hint of disdain. “Honestly. Out of all the things you could have done, declaring your love for another in a song is rather cliché, don’t you think?”
And with a dismissive brush, Luka knocks his shoulder against Ivan’s as he strides past, his gaze lowering.
“It’s a shame your little friend wasn’t around to watch such a spectacular win,” Luka murmurs, throwing Ivan one final contemptuous glance over his shoulder. “I’m sure he would have loved it- in more ways than one.”
Ivan stays quiet. For once, at a complete loss for words.
Later that week, Mizi had disappeared right in front of their eyes.
And it had to be to Luka, of all people.
Ivan didn't know what to do. He'd never felt so hopeless, his eyes widening as he watched Till scream raw and bloody until he couldn't anymore, a stream of tears running down his face.
Quietly, Ivan took a step forward. Reluctantly, he placed his hand on Till’s shoulder- and that's all it took for him to crumble beneath his touch.
“Ivan…” Till's beautiful voice chokes up with sorrow, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Ivan’s never heard him like this- god, it sounds like it’s hard for him to breathe.
Ivan glances at him, his gaze dropping as Till tightly embraces him. He simply stands there- frozen, too scared to touch him and risk breaking the fragile moment they share, and yet…
There was nothing else he could do. Ivan holds him tightly, clenching his jaw as he embraces him, offering what little comfort he can.
"It'll be okay," Ivan murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "Just breathe."
And to his surprise, Till listens, though each inhale feels strained, his hands clutching Ivan like a lifeline. Ivan's arms tighten around Till as he glances around at the other humans staring at them, a mixture of frustration and protectiveness swirling within him. He refuses to let anyone else see Till in such a vulnerable state, not like this.
"You're going to be okay." Ivan reassures him softly, his eyes widening when Till violently shakes his head.
“She's… Mizi’s gone.” Till gasps for air, his body trembling with grief. “J-just like that? This isn't right, I-I can’t…”
“God, spare me. Is this really necessary?" Luka's voice interrupts from behind them, dripping with disdain. Exhaustion. "What's done is done, my dear. It's a competition. In the end, she just wasn't good enough. Resorting to violence is for the weak.”
Ivan freezes. He notices Till’s eyes glaze over, and the tightening in his chest returns. As quickly as the warmth filled him, it disappeared.
In an instant, Till pushed away from Ivan, his fists clenched at his sides as he trembled with a mix of rage and grief. He whirls around to glare at Luka, hatred shining in his eyes.
“Shut your mouth.” Till trembles, his eyes bloodshot. Luka’s arms cross over his chest.
“Excuse me?” Luka’s gaze darkens before he turns to address Ivan directly. “Ivan, dear, might I suggest better control with your feral pet? Maybe a good yank on his leash will do the trick.”
Before Ivan can respond, Till barks out a harsh laugh. It’s not one of his usual laughs, it’s forced. One born from pain and sorrow.
“You fucking bastard. Keep talking.” Till grits his teeth firmly. “I’ll kill you.”
Luka stares at him, perfect face bloodied and swollen. His gaze flickers to Ivan for a split second, his last words cutting straight through the air like a blade.
“See that? It's just as I said.” Luka turns to face Till once more, each word dripping with malice. "You're just as weak as she was.”
Ivan hardly has time to react before Till lunges at him.
Luka barely manages to step off to the side, his eyes widening as Till lets out a guttural scream, his collar buzzing and crackling with sparks of electricity as he collapses to the ground.
The sight is painful. Ivan watches helplessly as Till’s small body folds in on itself, writhing in agony; his hands clawing at the air in a desperate search for relief.
Seconds pass before he’s swarmed. Before he's taken.
In an instant, Ivan watches as Till is dragged off, kicking and screaming like a feral animal, his sounds muffled over the gag. He looks crazed, absolutely feral- Ivan must be really fucked up to find him beautiful even now, but…
“My. What a nasty temper.” Luka mutters, brushing off nonexistent dust from his clothes. “I’ll never understand what you see in him.”
Ivan stays silent. He keeps his gaze down the hallway before flicking his attention back to the screen overhead, the results from each round still calculating, his heart pounding in his chest.
A few seconds pass before he sees his name. His own portrait staring back at him.
Matched up against…
Ivan lets out a soft breath, one that he didn't realize he had been holding. He doesn't want to look anymore, but he can't tear his gaze away- a sense of dread settling in his chest.
Even now, he doesn't allow his expression to betray his inner turmoil, keeping his gaze steady on the hologram before him.
Luka whistles.
“Oh my. How unfortunate,” Luka remarks from beside him, his tone laced with mockery, dripping with fake sweetness. “But it's nothing to worry over. You did say you’d win against anyone here.”
Ivan stays quiet, his demeanor unwavering. For a moment, he swears that Luka can see right through every horrible crack in his heart- that he can see the way he bleeds just at the thought of losing him.
Fuck. Ivan gnaws at his lower lip and turns around, much to Luka's disappointment.
He rolls his eyes.
“Ugh. Don’t tell me you’re going soft on me.” Luka presses on, an edge of something sickening to his voice, like he finds something amusing about their situation. "I told you- your little pet is an easy win. This is a blessing in disguise, if anything.”
Ivan's expression remains stoic, his eyes betraying none of the conflict swirling within his mind. His hands ball into tight fists, and he holds his head just a little higher, feigning confidence.
“Then I’ll win.” Ivan throws a final, chilled glance over his shoulder. He lies, just as easily as he breathes.
“And then I’ll take you down myself.”
Luka's grin widens maniacally.
Since the incident, Ivan hadn't seen Till in a few days. He’d heard rumors of an infiltration within the facility- rumors that Mizi had gone missing- and yet…
He hadn’t seen Till anywhere. Not once since he’d attacked Luka.
And yet, their time was running out. It wasn't fair- Ivan wanted to spend their final days together, not like this. It wasn't right.
Fuck, did Till even know they were competing? Had they even told him? Ivan didn’t want to know, he dreaded to know the answer- but he needed to know.
He had to do something. Even if it meant betraying his Segyein guardian, even if it meant using his authority and going against his own principles.
He didn’t care anymore.
Descending down the winding staircase, Ivan notices a couple aliens glance in his direction, but none of them say anything. They know better than to question him.
He glances around, glancing around at the aliens gathering around the casino parlor. There’s a banquet of some sort, with groups of space-creatures interacting mindlessly with one another, other pet-humans being shoved around. Beaten. Ivan notices a few having things thrown at them. Food, weapons, some of their clothes left scattered around the floor.
Ivan has to avert his gaze.
Did Till endure this kind of suffering? Was this how they tried to break him? Anger and anxiety grip Ivan as he rushes through the hallway, his head swiveling in the direction of Till's voice echoing through a microphone, only to be abruptly silenced. Again and again.
He quickly dashed around, pinpointing his voice and making his way to it. A few seconds pass before he stands outside a door, breathless and exhausted.
Ivan’s hand closes around the knob as he pushes it open, just a little. He peers inside the room, his brow furrowing when he sees him - a group of aliens crowding around him, their mocking laughter loud and piercing through the air.
And then, Ivan sees his face for the first time in days.
Till, his eyes wide with fear as he’s bent over a table, all fight and trace of defiance gone. His gaze, completely empty- as a meaty hand pressed over his bruised neck. Crushing him.
In an instant, Ivan sees red.
He lunges forward, grabbing the nearest object and charges in, acting on pure instinct. With every ounce of strength left in him, he doesn’t think. He swings as hard as he can, his vision so blurred that he can hardly see anything else in the room.
All he sees is blood. Blood, so much of it- unmoving bodies of those he never knew, and… him.
Till, on the floor. His eyes closed, his body limp, and…
"Till," Ivan's voice trembles. He recoils at the sight of the blue blood staining his hands, his skin reddened and bruised from each blow. With shaky hands, he reaches out to unclick the muzzle, his fingers tenderly brushing away the beads of sweat and tears still glistening against Till's skin.
“You're here…” Till’s voice is soft. Vulnerable. At this point, Ivan’s sure that he’s stopped breathing entirely.
“I'm here. I'm here now.” Ivan’s shaking. For the first time in his life, he doesn’t know how to stop. “Till, look at me. Please.”
Till doesn't. He stares forward, eyes unfocused, lanky hand outstretched in his direction. He weakly grabs onto the front of Ivan’s bloodstained shirt as his body sways, his head bowing forward.
“...Mizi?” Till murmurs weakly.
Ivan’s breath hitches in his throat. He stares forward, his eyes widening as Till slumps against him, fully unconscious. Ivan stares at him, his eyes widening as a few stray tears roll down his cheek. He quickly wipes them away, recomposing himself as he pulls Till closer, pressing a tender kiss to the top of his head.
Then once more, to his forehead. Ivan’s chest throbs, his hands trembling as he clutches Till close. Too afraid to let him go.
Right now, it would be so easy. Easy to say how he feels, easy to finally say what he's always wanted to, to take what he wants, and yet…
It feels like his world is slowly breaking apart. All of the cracks in his universe, dangerously close to shattering in his arms.
Hot tears well up in Ivan's eyes as he gently kisses Till's bruised cheek. He stays there for a few seconds, nuzzling against his cheek and sending another ache rushing through his broken heart.
And it’s enough for Ivan to pretend.
To pretend that right now, Till loves him. That he sees him. That he loves him deeply, desperately, in the way that Ivan loves him.
To pretend that one day, Ivan will be able to hold him like this. As a whole. Without any bruises or scratches scattered around his body, without anything hurting him. He'd do anything to make it possible.
Anything.
"I'd give you the world," Ivan whispers, pressing his forehead against Till's. "I'd do anything for you, Till."
He means it. There was nothing else in the world that could ever change that.
“But you can't give up. You can't stop wanting to live, no matter what happens.” Ivan hangs his head down, his arms coming around Till tightly. “For me. For her.”
Please.
I can't lose you.
After that evening, all traces of light had left Till’s eyes.
Ivan wasn't sure if it was because of Mizi, or if it was because of their battle. Either way, he really didn't want to know. In the end, none of it even mattered.
They'd reached it. The final stage. Their final duet.
It was what they both dreaded, but what they couldn't escape. Ivan had long accepted it.
From the moment Till began to sing, Ivan had listened to every word. He closed his eyes, and for a moment, he tried to pretend.
He tried to envision a world where things were different. A future where they weren’t here- like this- they could be together. They could be free. Happy.
Did Till feel the same way?
Cautiously, Ivan casts a look in his direction. Even as he sang his verses, Till stared straight forward, unmoving, lost in thought. He was obviously distracted, and Ivan could see it written all over his face.
He’d already given up. He didn't want to win.
He didn't want to live.
Fuck.
Ivan throws his microphone to the ground. Without any hesitation, he starts over in Till's direction, coming to a stop directly in front of him.
The rain pours down, mingling with tears and sorrow as Ivan lightly reaches up to stroke Till's damp cheek. His heart skips a beat the moment their eyes meet, a brief moment of confusion and surprise passing between them.
Ivan’s chest heaves with emotion. He has so many things he wants to say- but there isn’t time for them all.
He has to choose the most important words he has. The words he’s always wanted to say.
The words that would kill him to say.
“Till,” Ivan whispers, holding his gaze. "I love you."
I always have.
I always will.
“Huh?” Till’s breath catches. The vulnerable look in his eyes, it's one Ivan’s never seen before. He can't quite read it- and he doesn’t know what to make of it.
Everything in his chest hurts. God, it hurts so much more than Ivan would have ever imagined, but it wasn't unfamiliar.
After all, loving Till had always come with that pain. Ivan knew it all along, and still, he chased after him.
And now, he would be the one to save him.
Ivan’s hand threads through Till's damp hair before he abruptly brings him close- crashing their lips together in an instant.
Their first kiss is rough, and it’s not at all how Ivan imagined it would be like. He startles when he feels Till’s hands grip the front of his shirt for a brief moment- more death clutch than embrace. He shoves against him once, twice. No one’s ever held Ivan this tightly before, god, he doesn’t know which of them is trembling harder.
He feels Till shove and push at him- but Ivan won’t let go. He can’t.
He won’t let him go out like this.
He kisses him roughly, making sure to commit every detail of Till's beauty to memory. Every piercing, every freckle, every scar- everything that Ivan had fallen in love with.
“Ivan-” Till gasps out his name as he pulls back, their eyes locking for another brief moment. He looks shocked, confused- almost fearful. “Wait, w-wait-!”
But Ivan doesn't wait. He can't.
Ivan’s hands gently hold Till’s face, his thumb tracing the soft curve of his cheek before their lips meet once more. Even now, Ivan can't seem to take his eyes off of him, his eyes burning as a few tears rolled down his cheek, quickly washed away from the pouring rain. There's so much he wants to say, so much he wishes he could say- but he doesn't know where to start.
Their time was slipping away- but oddly enough, Ivan didn’t mind. Even if it was selfish, at least Till would survive. At least Till would finally know the truth, even if it had to be like this- with all of the unspoken words Ivan had always wanted to say.
Thank you for being the victim of my shallow emotions.
Ivan's eyes lower, a shaky breath leaving him as his lips move against Till's relentlessly, his chest tightening as he watches his expression soften. He leans in once more, pressing a delicate kiss to the side of his mouth. A selfish desire he's always had, one he never wanted to abandon. Not even in his final moments.
“Please,” Till’s weak pleas are muffled against his lips, swallowed up in an instant. At the sound of his ruined voice, Ivan’s heart breaks a little more, but he’s long accepted this fate. He's completely resigned to it.
Since they were children, he’d sworn himself to Till in every way he knew, after all.
To protect him. To love him. To be the one to save him.
Ivan’s hands surge forward, finally tightening around his throat. He meets Till’s fearful gaze, his fingers trembling as he forces himself to squeeze. Hard, but not hard enough to hurt. Just enough to give the illusion of a struggle. Of a fight.
And yet, he feels Till go completely limp under him. Entirely ready to die at his hands.
Ivan's hands tremble as he grips him tighter, his entire body shaking. He feels like he's going to be sick.
Fight back, damn it! Why wasn't he putting up a fight?!
He needs to fight back, god fucking damn it-!
Without thinking, Ivan tugs him forward, abruptly crashing their lips together. The taste of desperation lingers on his tongue as he deepens the kiss, his gaze still pinned on the flickering scoreboard. Over his number, now dropping rapidly.
Sixty-eight, sixty-nine… Seventy. A flood of relief pulses through him, Ivan’s eyes lowering. He gazes at Till, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he holds him close.
Live.
I need you to live for me.
For yourself.
And for the last time, he leans in. He presses a final kiss, one gentle and genuine. A silent apology. Ivan’s hands clutch Till’s neck as he stares at him, his heart breaking at the way his body goes limp, his beautiful eyes finally fluttering shut.
And then, comes sharp pain.
Ivan flinches at the first graze of a bullet hitting against his side. His pupils wildly dilate as his grip on Till tightens, his gaze flickering to the scoreboard overhead, to his points plummeting rapidly.
Just a little more. Ivan’s body trembles as he holds onto Till, bracing himself for the next shot.
Once more, a bullet pierces his arm. Ivan grits his teeth, refusing to release his grip. He doesn’t even make a sound. His body trembles, no longer numb to the pain, but he knows better than to let go.
He keeps his eyes on Till, his Till, his pupils shaking as he struggles to hold on.
He always knew that this love was going to kill him. He knew that it was going to be the end of him.
That Till would be his death.
A third shot rings out, and Ivan feels it pierce through him like a bolt of lightning. Sharp pain sears through his body, but he grits his teeth and remains steadfast. Blood coats his tongue as he coughs, the metallic taste flooding his mouth as it gushes past his lips, and…
God, this was it, wasn’t it? This was his end.
With utmost care, Ivan pulls away his hands from Till's throat, his vision blurring, his body swaying. Even now, as he stares into Till’s beautiful eyes, a flood of happiness and relief washes over him the moment their gazes lock together.
His last sight. As radiant as ever, more beautiful than any star in the galaxy. Ivan wouldn't trade him for a damned thing in the world.
All he saw was him. All he wanted was him. From the very start, to his very end, and…
If all he could do as a human was believe in something, in someone, then…
“My god,” Ivan whispers softly, his lips curling into a warm smile. One meant only for Till's eyes. “My universe.”
At last, you looked at me.