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“You’ll drill a hole in his head if you keep doing that,” Hyuna’s voice spooks him out of his trance, he barely catches his heart as well as the broomstick that almost slipped out of his hand.
“Dude, what the fuck,” He manages to compose himself before turning around to direct his glare at Hyuna. “You’ve seriously gotta stop sneaking up on me.”
Hyuna gives him a cheeky shrug, booping his nose to redirect his attention somewhere else. “You’re not answering me.”
His eyebrows meet, scrunching together. “I’m not doing anything, though?”
She rolls her eyes, seemingly intent on letting him know how done she is with him. Jeez, what the hell is her problem? “Really?”
Till scowls, unimpressed by where this conversation is going. “Really.”
“So you weren’t thinking of sticking a knife inside those girls flocking around our new little prince?”
They both look at Ivan, not even decorated to look like a charming butler that came out from a fairytale-like novel, stuck with the worn-out apron and those stupid glasses that seem to tie the look all together. Yet somehow, customers were still calling for him with poorly hidden excuses, wanting to get a closer look at him.
He blinks. And then, red comes rushing on his face. A stark contrast to his previous demeanor. “Wh-what are you talking about?!”
Hyuna laughs at him, cooing. “Aw, you’re too cute.”
Till felt ominous about her compliment, feeling as if he put himself into more danger. He clears his throat, turning around to get back to his sweeping and hide the raging blush he’s currently wearing. “Go away already. Your girls are probably waiting for you.”
Hyuna is one of the most sought-after ‘maids’ in the host club they’re working at, even more popular with the female clientele than some of the guys working here. He can tell why. If someone were to ask him what word Hyuna would be, he would say it’s the word ‘allure’.
“Ah, you’re right!” She exclaims, balancing the tray on her hand full of parfaits. She takes one step forward, only to take it back and look at him again. “Just don’t get yourself in trouble again, ‘kay? We don’t want our number one to be gone for too long.”
Till shoos her away with his hand, irked by the reminder that he’s on cleaning duty instead of entertaining guests.
“Also, just talk to Ivan.”
“Ugh, go away!”
“Fineee,” she says playfully.
Till sighs, feeling like there’s room to breathe in again now that Hyuna is gone. Despite that, her words ring in his head.
Talk to Ivan.
Tills scoffs. Why should he? Ivan’s already busy coddling up to those girls, feigning innocence as he slyly wraps them around his finger. He can see one motherfucker from a mile away.
He smirks in mirth, seeing right through Ivan. If he thinks he can fool everyone and steal Till’s rightful title under his nose, he’s got a lot coming for him.
He will not let anyone else steal his crown, especially by a newbie.
His master plan gets interrupted when Ivan finally notices the glares he’s been sending. It startles him, averting his gaze away from the raven head as he sends a quick wink to one of the ladies in the table near him. He’s met with enthusiasm.
He feels hot.
In anger, obviously. It has nothing to do with the way Ivan looks at him.
Nothing.
The metal clangs as Till opens his locker, finally finishing up for the day. He lets out a sigh, dust scatters around his puff of breath while notably more exhausted than usual, even though all he did today was clean, clean, clean.
His mind wanders around, recalling the recent events that landed him in his current situation. He loosens his necktie to hang it inside the steel container and pops open the first few buttons of his shirt to escape the feeling of suffocation.
He clicks his tongue, finally letting the irritation bubbling up inside him seep out. If it weren’t for that bastard who tried to get his slimy, unwashed fingers under Mizi’s skirt he wouldn’t be stuck with wiping what’s under the tables for two weeks. Instead of his usual routine of flirtatious conversations and frivolous ways to make clients feel welcome, his eyes were glued on the floor as if threatening dirt to touch it.
So what if I broke some fingers, couldn’t the manager be more lenient with me? Afterall, he did bring the most patrons in their little shop.
An annoyed grunt comes out from him, his senses suddenly catching movement from behind his back. He rolls his eyes, “What are you being so sneaky for?”
Ivan makes a startled noise, almost like a squeak. In hindsight, he can understand why people would find him cute.
“…how did you know it was me?”
Till snorts. “Who else would it be?”
“Luka?”
“As if that pompous rascal would ever grace us with his presence here in the locker room.” He faces Ivan while saying so, the apron he was donning earlier now gone, making it easy to see the outline of his body. “He says it would sully his peace.”
“Oh…”
For a second, Till notices Ivan’s gaze zero in on his collar before flinching under his watchful eyes.
He tilts his head at that.
“So, mind telling me what you were tryna pull off?” He asks with a bit of amusement hiding in his words. Seeing Ivan squirming to think of an excuse lit a fuse inside Till.
“Uhm,” Ivan gives him a sheepish smile, his eyes looking at anywhere but him. “I needed to get something?”
Till gives him a questionable look. “That doesn’t explain anything.”
“I…” Ivan lets out a frustrated sigh, running his gloved fingers through his hair. The tips of his ears are turning red, Till muses. “I thought…that maybe, I did something to make you mad?”
The words curve into a question at the end, giving an unexpected twist. It surprised Till, a crack becoming apparent in the expectation he set for the other.
A chuckle escapes out of him, setting off the intensifying red as it climbs towards Ivan’s face. He shoots off any excuse he could at Till, stuttering almost every word. It was a complete contrast to the Ivan earlier, the one that was radiating a gentle aura that makes you not able to resist swooning.
Instead, in front of him was a blubbering mess afraid to make a mistake in front of his senior.
Maybe I judged him too quickly.
He decides to take it easy on him, apologizing for making the younger think like that and realizing that his agitated nerves may have had him making things up about the kid. He turns his back against Ivan yet again, set on finishing his business.
“How was your first day?” Till asks, completely silencing the other while he continues to unclasp the remaining buttons on his shirt with his one hand. “You still sure of working in this industry?”
“Yeah…”
“Well, as long as you’re careful.” He sighs, there’s no convincing someone who’s already set on what they want to do. Besides, he himself can’t judge him for wanting to be a host. It pays well. “You’d think it’s easy and safe but there are a lot of creeps lurking here and about. It would be a shame if someone as young as you got caught up in something.”
“I understand.”
“Speaking of which, aren’t you a student?” Till asks, turning around to look at Ivan. “Are you sure you can juggle being a host and a stud—fuck!”
His body quite literally takes a screenshot, tearing a squawk from Till’s throat. The vicinity between them is almost nonexistent to the point that he’s forced to look at Ivan’s eyes and notice how the air around him changed.
When the hell did he get so close? How come he didn’t hear him?
Till’s breath stutters, cracking a laugh out of him to ease the situation. “What the hell, dude? Back off.”
“Do you know why I applied here, sunbae-nim?” Ivan asks, his gaze brushing against Till’s pinkened cheeks making it burn more.
“What?” The sudden shift of conversation makes him dumbfounded, his tone incredulous as his temper slowly comes back, ready to snap at Ivan. “No! And I don’t need to know so can you back the fuck o—”
Ivan takes another step forward, rustling the fabric of his shirt and making Till flinch. “It’s because of you, sunbae.”
“Huh?”
Ivan's smile was gentle, a soft caress that left Till feeling as though he had been unexpectedly nudged off a precipice. "It's alright if you don't recall," Ivan murmured tenderly, his words carrying a sense of understanding. "I never expected you would."
Till laughs, feeling ridiculed by the situation he’s in. Is this guy insane?
He winces when Ivan’s hand brushes against his bare skin, coming back to the realization that he was in the middle of undressing. It could have been an accident on Ivan’s side but somehow the look on his face makes him doubt that, turning red once again.
With a sigh of resignation, Ivan finally retreated, allowing Till to feel as if a refreshing breeze had finally embraced him, granting him the ability to breathe freely once more. He doesn’t spare any time to glare at Ivan.
“So, imagine my shock when I came in here and the person I like kept sending me glares?”
Till paused, feeling a sense of surrealism wash over him. Like? “This isn’t funny.”
“I’m being serious, sunbae-nim.” Ivan purses his lip, the look of disappointment in his face is enough to make you feel like a fool. “So, I got to thinking. it's because you're afraid i’ll steal your spot right?”
“As if!?” Till fumes, you can almost see the white steam come out of his ears, swirling around the air-conditioned room.
“Then let’s make a bet.” The other says, his tone dripping with sickeningly sweet chirpiness, enough to make one's stomach churn with nausea at the saccharine facade he’s showing.
“You think I'll agree?” Till shakes his head, action tinged with disbelief and feeling like his maturity is being threatened. “What am I? Five?”
“Don’t be like that,” Ivan takes a step forward towards him. It makes Till’s pupils quiver, holding his arms forward to stop Ivan from getting any closer again.
“Stay fucking away and I’ll hear you out.”
Ivan grins, looking like a cat getting his catnip after manipulating their owner into compliance. He steps back, muttering a quick okay.
Till frowns at him. “Well, get to it?”
“If I don't manage to steal your spot in under a month, my training time not included, I’ll leave.” Ivan proposes.
“And what happens if you win?”
“Let me take you out on a date.” He flashes him a smile, holding up a peace sign as if he didn’t just drop words belonging to a death sentence.
I was right, Till thought.
He is a lunatic.