Chapter Text
Something will not occur without cause and effect. For example, the large gash on the women's shoulder was the effect of planting a pocket knife and slicing away tendons and connective tissues.
The remains seeps away at the cause a knife has brought upon it. Other parts of the body were so disfigured, it was just a mountain pile of red.
It didn't stay true, however, to the effect of his strange fixation on Till, how much he longs to grasp the soft muscle on his person, ravish it- despite never having experience of having a tad bit interest in the eroticism of the human body.
The cause, this time, was nonexistent. So he keeps trying to find the goddamn answer. But there was a cause, he knew. There should be.
He'd rake the entire human race for an answer if that was what it took.
Her platinum blond hair was a tad too yellow to resemble Till's. Too long. It was getting boring to puzzle the mesh of lumped up meat laying on the grounds of his feet. He doesn't even want to look at the woman's face. Irrelevant.
That night he makes it up to himself by backing Till up a corner while spouting flirtatious remarks. He doesn't buy Ivan's bullshit attempt like most people do, mostly because Till knew the delusions Ivan puts for people in the short span of their fated (peculiar) meeting. Sometimes the behavior also incite fear in his beloved in a ‘I know what you truly are’ kinda way without actually knowing what it entails.
Really, how much more perfect do they have to be to each other?
With a progress like this, Till could discover Ivan's weird hobby way sooner.
Has there been a possibility of keeping this underwraps even after he secured Till? (in a conventional, traditional way mind you). Ivan has thought about it but decided the mental anguish Till will feel knowing his husband isn't the person he said he was would be too much. He doesn't want Till to suffer.
Other scenario will still leave the boy feeling torn apart and betrayed, just that each one has a vastly different outcome from the other. Sure, it was easier to subdue him with the aforementioned result, they were married after all. But the constant gnaw of expectations, of truths, of rights and wrongs, would eat Till up until nothing was left of his person.
Besides, Ivan had no intention of keeping Till in the dark (the metaphoric kind). So not only Till finding out on his own accord the best solution, it also keeps him ahead of what's to come. He just had to plan the right pace and course of action.
“Why do you keep looking at me like that?” Ivan snapped out of his thoughts at the mention. Maybe he'd stared too much to incite that kind of response.
He passed the orange he was peeling to Till, a hefty two slices of sunkist that were still lodged with each other and scraped clean out of its pith. “I don't know what you're talking about.”
It took a few seconds for Till to accept the piece of orange where he eyed the fruit knife Ivan was cutting it with. Ivan's black eyes crinkle in a smile.
“What? You want me to feed it to you by hand?” Apparently that was what it took for Till to snap out of his stupor and grab the dang orange. He muttered something about Ivan having great precision on cutting oranges, shy enough to diminish it as random mumbling.
They were having dinner at Ivan's. It was a schedule they developed overtime, to avoid persistent harassment on Till's part more or less. It wasn't forced though, as much as Till makes it out to be. He still comes by often enough on his own that he considers the place a familiarity. Till knows the door's password, knows every utensil Ivan owns, knows how much his grand piano costs. He knows just about as much as Ivan lets him.
They're not dating. Till is well aware of the effect he has on Ivan (or not. It's never clear) but chose to sweep it off like it was never there. And Ivan never asked in fear of- of… of something Ivan couldn't describe. Was it fear of losing him? Of course not, Ivan would make his presence known whether or not Till wants him there. Rejection? The answer stays the same. It would be funny if he had fear of such privelous emotions amongst the things he does.
But right now Ivan was content on where they stand without any ulterior motives. Just them sitting on his couch watching a movie as Ivan gets touchy and Till tries to pry him off until he gives in to the cuddling.
Despite his lanky features due to neglect care, Till has proficient meat to pillow his body. The dinner was actually Ivan trying to adjust him to a healthier habit as he gained more fat overtime. It was working as intended if only a little. The film was just a way to keep Till longer here with a bait he'd find hard to refuse. Till loves movies.
This one was a sappy movie about the romance between a grieving girl and an emotionally unstable boy overcoming their situation through each other. If Ivan was anybody else, he would weep as many tears as the movie’s relentlessly stagnant solutions of the boy’s problem. He’s going to die. But he was not anybody else, so he did not weep. Rather diverts his attention to the cradled boy in his arms.
Till was invested and he may not look it, but the boy was a very romantic person at heart despite his rough exterior. Perhaps it was personal experience that influenced the trait, but traces could be found in the poems he fabricates in secret, lyrics he composed. It makes Ivan warm and wants to nestle in the spot just behind his ear and close enough to nuzzle silver strands, stay there until he melts away.
He was soft. So soft. The skin on his person draws Ivan in every time he has a chance to run his fingers through it. Moulding the crevices; his calf, his upper arm. It was surreal- how this was the same structural component Ivan diminish over all the bodies he has to deal with. How could it be the same?
A human could easily be killed by cutting a specific nerve that's burrowed inside it’s neck. Granted they'll die either way if the pivotal point of their body was sliced. Blood loss was a thing. But it was a vital piece of tube, just one little cord was all it take. And if one is without it perhaps they have a chance at surviving Ivan, but at that point can they still be called a human without one of it’s core? So deep down, they’re all the same. The same mass of overgrown cells that make up a walking person. So how could this be any different?
When he got to the point of reaching Till's wrist, he noticed just how shaken the teal eyed boy was. For someone alive, he was as still as the corpses long gone in it’s wake save for the tremor his body possess. Till’s body was so unbelievably numb yet Ivan could still differentiate that this was still Till and not just anyone else.
He was quivering, was he scared? Did he know what Ivan was thinking? Till could possibly read minds for all Ivan knew, he could possibly have known what Ivan had done because he was so god damn unpredictable. It wouldn’t be a surprise if Till had known all this time, it was just simply astounding that Till had maintained this long into the façade if that was ever the case. It was infuriating, yet exciting all the same.
“Hahhh..” a groan causes Till’s body to jolt in his lap, a failed attempt at being discreet about movements. If Till wanted to play this game, Ivan will play along. He chuckles, “Why are you so stiff?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ivan beams at the jab, held back a laugh but it still makes his body vibrates. If observations proved that it didn’t fail him, Till would be flustered in annoyance right about now. Ivan took the distracted chance to move his fingers upwards and under to grasp Till’s and gripped tight. This time, it did make Till jump. “Motherfucker-”
“-what, is it too tight?” Till renewed his struggle as Ivan wrapped another strict hand around the whole of Till’s person, constricting him like a boa contraption. “No! But-”
“-you're getting distracted, Till. I thought you were the one who wanted to watch this movie.” Ivan flashed him a playful grin as he pretended to face the screen before Till fully faced him. He sure as hell wasn’t paying attention to the story, the fact that Till knew just adds up to the humor.
“Let-! Asshole!!” Ivan wasn’t budging. “GRR- You're unbelievable!” It was due time for the movie’s conflict to arise- so Till had to suck up whatever pride he wants to bestow upon himself to reach pass the ending he severely sought for.
He went back to watching due to the plot, typical. Ivan guess that’s one of the things he loves about Till. Compassion stretched far from the hinted pieces Till carve through whatever he creates, whatever media he consumes as inspiration. Ivan doesn’t get compassion as much as he doesn’t get love and likeness. But for Till, he does.
Because when the movie was over, Till’s eyes glossed over like he had a view of his life flashing before him in the span of 7 minutes. It might be a hyperbole but Ivan counted seconds (what doesn’t he do for Till?) He was overthinking something, Ivan doesn’t know what it was about like always- Till doesn’t let him. But he wants to, God he wants to.
There’s a few things present in the rule of loving someone with their consequences. “Do you have class tomorrow?” Number one; you feel like you want to spend as much time as possible with them.
Till rotates his head to Ivan when he feels the tender hug on his abdnoment, protecting the organs contained in that area with a soft pat of Ivan’s hands. He doesn’t look like anything. Ivan thought he’d be irritated by the mention, annoyed at least. He wasn’t, he’s just.. staring.
Number two; you’d do anything to see them safe and happy.
That night they fall in bed like some nights Ivan managed to embrace Till tight enough to keep him. The earlier fear was gone, replaced by unsettling guilt that spoke a thousand stories. Both of them didn’t pay it any mind. It still makes him wonder- in the midst of obscene sounds they emit, the way Till’s breath labored like he was about to hyperventilate. Of course Ivan gives him all the time in the world- the logic behind their push and pull. Thinking, theorizing, finding proof.
Sometimes.. sometimes Ivan wonders what Till tastes like, flesh and bone and all served without seasoning nor a silver platter. He imagines himself an animal spooning spewing red meat into his mouth with his bare hands. And it wasn’t just anyone, it was Till’s. Till’s. But to reach that he had to be harmed and Ivan doesn’t want that. Sometimes he wonders if there’d be two Till’s, then he could devour one while still keeping the other.
He wasn’t one to interest in canibalism, if anyone’s asking. He never did that deed. If anyone’s asking. He finds it repulsive just as much as the next person. The body of his victims were just as much disgusting as handling organ tissues. It might be hypocritical, but it is the truth. Despite all that, the question still stands and it’s wrecking his ideology.
Number three; you love teasing them to see their reaction. All the things Till does in this moment drives him mad, all the little actions, all the cute sounds. It was like touching an open flame, yearning it on a cold night and getting burnt if you got too close. But God help- he keeps coming back for more. Ivan tried to stable himself to not burden it on Till by telling him lewd remarks like he saw people do in this occasion. The jokes followed automatically after- he did not intend for this to happen. He noticed it was a natural response when it comes to Till, he cannot control it. It earned him a well-deserved slap in the end.
Ivan kept a spouting frown all the time it took for them to prepare to sleep with a red indent on his left cheek. While in the bathroom. While changing the covers.
Till looked reasonably pissed off .
Both of them still decides it’s not worth the fight and huddled close to slumber.
They’re facing each other while Ivan had his arm looped under Till. He waited for the boy to fall asleep before taking the chance to really focus on his face.
Beautiful. He doesn’t need any convincing for that. The most beautiful person he ever laid eyes to. From his cat shaped eyes, thin eyebrows and unruly hair he saw amongst the crowd of the destined party years follow, from the horrified and pitied expression he shoots in the alleyway for Ivan. For once, for Ivan. If he could go back to that day just to relinquish and take it all again-
In the corner of his eyes, he saw his phone flash indicating an incoming message. There’s only few people that makes it past his DND alarm at this time. It was either Sua (his cousin) or his father and Ivan hoped it was the former when he picked it up in a way to avoid disrupting Till.
It was kinda both. Ivan had to refrain a scowl of disdain when he read, ‘your father took another case. He asked me to help you.’ In her short response, Ivan could still feel her glare shining through the LCD screen telling him you better not make me do this alone, this is your job.
Ivan does enjoy the thrill of another chase, he just doesn’t enjoy it collaterating with quality time like what’s happening right about now so he ignores it. If it wasn’t his father messaging him directly, then it wasn’t urgent.
He sighed and placed down the phone where he left it earlier, closed his eyes.
Ivan made sure he was awake before Till. The silver haired boy was still where Ivan left him last night since none of them was an avid mover-in-sleep kinda person, Ivan was just hugging tighter than before. Ivan tests out Till’s subconcious by putting up an act of groaning and hugging his bed-mate as if he was a tween being forced to wake up for school. The scrunched up nose was cute but it came with a jab of elbow to his nose. Still asleep then.
He didn’t quite open the bedroom door he kept locked last night when he heard activities outside the room’s confinement. “ Tsk. ” Ivan got out a spare gun and dialed a number.
“Sua-”
“-I’m in your apartment.” She must be livid he left her on read if she came here.
When Ivan got out, Sua already busied herself with breakfast and was browsing through his TV catalogue as if her face wasn’t plastered in some of the shows.
Ivan flashed her a smile. “Good Morning.” She didn’t even look at him.
His kitchen, however, was a mess. His sink was full of dishes. There sat a pink cartoon-themed container at the clean part of the counter. And as if Sua had a sixth sense, she told him, “Don’t touch the lunch box, I made that for Mizi.” before he could do anything to it except approach it.
“..that you made.. using my stuff..?” Ivan isn’t actually mad, he just did it to piss her off more. It worked at the cost of his other dignity when Sua replies.
“Why is guitar boy here?” The following question really makes Ivan pop a vessel. She must’ve recognize one of the shoes that doesn’t belong to Ivan.
“Is there something wrong with him being here?” He knows very well how wrong it is for ‘guitar boy’ being here, sue him he didn’t know it would end like this. Ivan started making breakfast anyway in the storm that is his kitchen, might as well make more mess before he cleans it all up.
He could read Sua was restricting her words from saying anything out of Till’s lines, she can’t really afford anyone knowing she’s an accomplice in anything so she doesn’t say what she has to just yet. Till should wake up any moment now, and before he leave, Sua can’t continue her work. Ivan? Ivan deliberately did it on purpose as a way to leave bread crumbs of evidence for Till to find.
Not too much. Just enough to keep Till guessing.
Till arrived cue later to the boring stare of a small woman with violet eyes. Ivan still busied himself with breakfast so he doesn’t put a spotlight on Till, but when he does look at him it probably startled his soul.
He was wearing one of Ivan’s t-shirt, one with a high collar almost resembling a mock-turtleneck with shorts he wore last night. Till was flushed from head to toe and maybe it did help hide the hickeys but even Ivan being the farthest from him could still count up how much there is just peeking out from the collar.
Ivan just realized Till was also holding his jacket that he put on on his stride. To the door. Before Ivan could even say anything, he bolted out the apartment with only socks on and shoes in hand. “Wait Til-”
Click.
He left. Ivan assume the shock of being discovered having sex with Ivan would do that to Till, who was labeled as being difficult and frenemies with the campus golden boy in the first place. With his cousin nonetheless.
Ivan whipped up his phone to send him a text;
‘You forgot your breakfast.’
‘Fuck your breakfast.’
He should give Till the lunch box treatment too.