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The soundtrack of their song was playing in the background, yet neither of them were singing. From the corner of his eye, he could see their scores fluctuating up and down. The aliens were probably confused on what they were playing at- Ivan especially. He had thrown his microphone down, earning gasps from the audience that he could just barely hear over the loud music.
It clattered to the ground, being tossed to the side without further regard as he took long strides towards Till. He wasnt sure what he was doing, but he knew he had to do something here.
He didnt know how he was supposed to do this. Was anyone sure of how they were supposed to die? Ivan decided probably not as his fingers met the nape of Tills neck, pushing their faces together. It was an odd gesture, far too unfamiliar, but it was warm.
He breathed it in as best he could before he pulled back briefly, wrapping his hands around Tills neck. That made his eyes widen, would it weird to say that he was already regretting his decision? He didnt want Till to look at him like that, half fear in his hazy eyes.
His eyes were so dull, they had been that way since mizi had disappeared. A voice in the back of his head asked if he would look the same once Ivan was gone, but he shut it down immediately. This was Till he was thinking about, not some kicked puppy. Till would bounce back, he always did; he had to.
The grip around his neck faltered, but only for a moment before he snapped back into remembrance. He squeezed, but only around the sides. He didnt want to seriously hurt him, not in his last moments. That was worse than dying itself.
Their lips were placed together one last time, Ivans touch feather light. It was almost sweet if it werent for the hands on his neck.
Tills eyes were shut, which made him curious. Why was he giving up so easily? This was Till. He always had a fire burning in him, eager and hungry to fight back, who had put a damper on it? The thought rubbed him in the wrong way, but at least his job was finding itself easier.
His eyes adjusted on their scores, fluctuating before it landed on 89 70, the seventy being his. He let himself look at it for only a mere second before resting his gaze back on Till. For some reason, it seemed to always land back on him.
With one last graze of lips, he pulled back. The expression on Tills face as he attempted to look at him again through half lidded eyes was painful. They fell back shut quickly, sparing the rest of the burn in Ivans veins.
As his eyes fell shut, Ivan couldnt help but be glad. Gunshots rained upon him, nailing him in the side. Multiple after the other. He didnt count, but he felt his body rock back 4 times with each impact. His fingers twitched, but he held persistent. Watching the raindrops roll down Tills face helped, maybe a little. Took his concentration off of the pain seeping through his side.
He felt warmth bubble up his throat, spilling over his lips and dribbling down his chin. It tasted like copper, a taste he knew pretty well. His heart rate spiked in his chest, hammering against his rib cage as it pumped, sending spikes of adrenaline rushing through him.
Too bad for his heart though, he was already dying.
For a brief moment, he was scared. He was absolutely horrified despite being accustomed to the thought of death. A thought so relieving, to think one day everything would just stop. But like this?
It only took one glance up, one glance to till's face, that made him remember what he was doing this for. Who he was doing this for. He felt a bittersweet smile spread across his lips. Bitter because he wouldnt get to be by Tills side— but content with the fact he would be able to live on if just for a little bit longer.
As long as he didnt have to die at Ivans hands, he could be okay. If Ivan had actually won, he would never be able to forgive himself. How could he ever be okay knowing he indirectly was the cause of Tills death? He pushed that thought back, reminding himself of the moment.
His hands slowly fell from Tills neck, not leaving a trace of him behind. No bruises, no marks, nothing, as if he had never touched him in the first place. The only thing that couldve proved what happened was the part of the boy's lip that was tinged a deeper red than the rest. Where Ivans tooth had rested in the kiss.
As his body gave in on itself, collapsing to the floor: he could feel Till's eyes fall on him. Sickening satisfaction was burning in the back of his throat, accompanying the dread. Till had looked at him before, but never with this look in his eyes. It was almost pity, except it wasn't. Ivan couldnt place it, he was never the best at reading emotions anyways.
He barely felt the way his eyes drifted shut, barely felt the way his body had hit the cold stage floor. He almost didnt catch the way warm hands were immediately on his jaw, a stark contrast to the icy floor.
He forced his eyes open, just barely as he looked up at who was holding him. It was Till. It was surprising to him, so surprising he wouldve laughed if he had the strength. Instead he settled for a half formed smile that didnt reach his eyes.
Only Ivan could hold some stupid smile while dying, bleeding out on the floor. That's what Till would say, he could practically hear it in his mind, his voice bleeding through it.
If Till was saying words, he couldnt hear them. He couldnt hear them no matter how hard he willed himself to listen. The buzzing in his ears was deafening, straining just made it worse. He had to settle for his blurry eyes, watching as he spoke words he couldn't make out. Ivan thought the tears in Tills eyes were just a trick of the light, but that didnt make him want to reach up and wipe them away any less. The tears were proved very real when he felt one splatter on his face, spilling down his cheek.
He couldn't tell when the mix of his blood and Tills tears became one. He was fine with it though, even if he couldn't figure out why till was crying. He wasnt supposed to be crying, he wasnt supposed to care. So why was he holding him in his hands, crying like he did? Ivan felt his own tears build as his eyesight wavered in and out.
He thought he was alright at reading peoples thoughts; he was good at it with the aliens. Why were humans so much different? He had read him wrong, Ivan truly wasnt good at anything, apparently. Till had cared, he cared too much even if he himself hadnt realized it. His emotions came in handfuls, never evenly distributed. Ivan mourned what couldve been.
Even as he begged his useless body to keep its eyes open, just for a little longer, it proved futile. He died, but at least he died warm.
He hoped death was as gentle as the hands he died in.