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He is fifteen when he's abducted.
There is a dark room, a moaning mattress that digs into his back, and chains.
He's hand-cuffed to the headboard by them. They won't even allow him to sit, they make his head spin a little. Fear, cold. There's something dripping in a metal bowl to his right and that just makes it all worse.
He can't stay another second there, so he screams. Someone will hear him, he's sure of it. He can hear cars and trucks, so people passing by must hear him too.
He screams until his throat is raw.
Until those seconds he was counting turn into hours, days, weeks? He can't hear the water dripping in the metal bowl anymore, lost his only way to keep track of time.
Maybe he fell asleep, because suddenly, there's silence. So deep that even straining his ears, there's nothing to be heard but his own ragged breath. He still can't see either, no matter how much he widens his eyes.
The damp smell of mold, the harsh feel of metal around his wrists and the taste of blood deep in his throat remains his only company.
For a minute, he entertains himself with the fact that this is just like those sensory deprivation chambers he’d seen on TV. And just as maddening.
.
Hunger. Thirst. His tongue felt like sandpaper inside his mouth and he kept slipping in and out of consciousness. How many days now? It hurt to think.
He screamed at his body to react, to properly open his eyes, when he finally heard a noise to the right. He had to close his eyes and squint when the door cracked open slowly and the room flooded with light.
His heart beat wildly in his ribcage. They found him, he was going home!
“Please, please help me. Please!” He begged with his raspy voice, trying to find the strength to lift his head and take a good look at his savior.
He was spared the work when a handsome face hovered over him, a gentle hand caressing his grimy check. He barely realized he was crying until the stranger tenderly wiped his tears away.
“Please, help me...” He sobbed and the stranger smiled with a singularly sharp tooth.
That was when he understood he wasn’t going anywhere.
“Don't worry, Till. I got caught up with something, but I'm here now.” He held a straw to the boy's lips. “I'm going to take care of you. You can call me Ivan.”
.
“Please, let me go.”
“Hm. You really need a shower. Did you have an accident while I was out?” Ivan was smiling serenely at him, walking to an old wardrobe and selecting towels and bedsheets.
“Why am I here? Please, let me out!” Till pleaded for the tenth time, but his kidnapper barely acknowledged him.
“What do you think about pink sheets? I think they go well with your complexion.” Ivan smiled at him, holding two shades of pink for him to choose. Till sobbed, trashing against the chains.
“Let me go! I don't care about the sheets you freak, let me go!” He screamed hysterically, tired, scared. So damn scared.
The sting to his face was startling, furious. The blow so strong his head was thrown back against the wall. Till moaned at the taste of blood where his teeth dug into his cheek.
A second later he felt cold, caring hands cupping his face, lifting his jaw to inspect the damage. He was too dizzy to react.
“See Tillie? See what you make me do?” It felt like lips against his abused check, but the stinging was so bad he could barely feel anything.
“You really need to stop saying silly things. I don't want to do this to you, so you have to behave ok?”
Ivan's voice would be soothing in a different situation, now it just made Till sob in fear.
.
Till cried and cried all the way to the bathtub. And then some more, in shame, as Ivan stripped him down and used his hands to rub soap everywhere.
It was humiliating, even moreso by the fact his hands were securely tied to his back with a blindfold wrapped tight around his eyes.
He was sniffing quietly, sitting with his knees in the shallow water when Ivan's happy humming drove another pang of dread through him.
“P-p-please, let me go. P-p-please, I-I don't understand.”
Ivan's hand froze on his back. Till could feel his nails sinking on his skin.
“Let's not talk about this. Am I clear?” Till sobbed, and this only seemed to infuriate Ivan. “Am I!?” He used his grip to shake Till's body a little.
Till couldn't work the words around the knots in his throat, so he just shook his head in agreement.
Ivan started humming again.
-
Ivan fed him, caring eyes looking down at him every time he raised the spoon to his mouth. His hands were chained to the headboard the moment they were back from the bathroom.
Beansprout soup. Spicy rice cakes. Jajangmyeon. Every single time Ivan descended the stairs with that infuriating smile and some steaming bowl in his hand, Till hoped for it to be poisoned.
It never was and he realized, after a few days, it never would be. He tried to refuse food a few times after that. A swollen eye that throbbed for days prevented him from doing it ever again.
-
“Look Till, I brought you some cake.” Ivan dropped the empty bowl of soup and dug around a small box. The slice was artfully decorated with fruit and dark chocolate and it made his mouth water. He clenched his teeth shut despite that.
“What's wrong? Come on, eat.” Ivan tried to feed him a slice of cake again and Till turned his head away. He could feel a smear of icing on his cheek
“I don't like sweets.” His voice was low, a little shaky, but the tone was defiant.
Ivan was silent, the atmosphere around them chilling considerably. Till closed his eyes in fear, knowing what would come next. But, no matter what, that little rebellion felt better on his tongue than any melting chocolate could. He was losing power over his life and relished in these small, sweet victories.
“Yes you do.” Ivan's voice was icy. “I know you do.”
Till gasped when a large hand closed around his jaw and made him turn. Gone were the gentle, caring eyes. Ivan's glare was dark with possessive violence
“P-please!” He didn't even know what he was begging for, body convulsing to get away from the painful grip.
“I know you do. I've been watching you for months.” Ivan tightened his grip and brought Till's head closer to his own. “I know everything about you. Don't lie to me ever again. Ever.”
Till hated himself for the sobs that crawled out his body without his permission. The feeling of denying Ivan for once wasn’t worth the heavy backhand to his face.
Ivan went up the stairs and took the cake with him.
Till cried himself to sleep in the darkness.
.
He felt sick at the feeling of relief that washed over him when he saw Ivan at the door. It was hardly clever to have his captor mad at him, but that didn’t explain the guilt in his gut when Ivan gently caressed his torn cheek.
“I forgive you Tillie. I do.” Ivan kissed his temple and snuggled up to Till’s skinny body.
The confusing slop of emotion at his touch was too much for Till, so he closed his eyes and stopped trying to understand it. Instead, he curled his body closer and let himself be soothed.
.
He would regret the day he bit Ivan for a long time.
Ivan had brought him a small TV, where they watched movies together every other day. He was still chained to the bed, but Ivan worked some pillows below his head so he could see properly.
It terrified him, but Till found himself getting used to how Ivan would cuddle him now, chastely kissing his forehead, cheeks and neck. He had tensed up at first, crying for Ivan not to do it, but it never escalated to anything more than soft butterfly kisses.
That’s why he pulled at his bonds and flinched when he felt something wet against his jaw. Harder, when a leg was thrown over his hips.
“I-Ivan...Ivan!” His lithe body was suddenly covered by Ivan rolling on top of him, teeth teasing against his earlobe.
When Ivan closed his mouth over his screaming lips, Till acted on instinct. He sunk his teeth on the supple lower lip between his own with all his might, blood flooding over his tongue.
He learned to control himself the hard way.
Ivan had screamed, tearing his mouth away from Till. The pain that followed was something unimaginable.
Mad eyes looked down at him, the furious breath resounding in his ears. He screamed his throat raw yet once again, struggling against his bonds. Blood ran down his wrists and he could barely feel it through the panic.
Ivan had snarled at him, yelling like a madman as he tore at the rest of his clothes.
“What is wrong with you?! I took care of you, you're only alive because of me! I am the most important person of your life- I am the only person in your life! Do you hear me!? ”
He spoke of love and belonging and whatever else Till couldn't make sense through the waves of agony that washed over him in an unending tide. Every thrust into him made his body slide up the mattress, until his head slammed repeatedly against the headboard.
He closed his eyes and begged to pass out.
.
He woke up in the bathtub, the hands he knew so well gently cleaning his wounds with cold water.
He gulped, but had no strength to fight, keeping his eyes low and trying to stop his limbs from shaking.
“I'm sorry Tillie. I didn't want it to be like that. I had it all planned. But why won't you just behave? Really, you're so difficult sometimes, love.”
Till tried to tune out Ivan's voice, but the endearment made him sob. Crying, eating and sleeping seemed to be all he was good for now.
“Don't cry. You’ve cried enough for today.” Ivan's hands dried the tear tracks on his cheeks and he did his best to stop. It only made it worse, uncontrollable hiccuping sobs wracking his body.
Ivan sighed and closed both arms around his torso, pulling him out of the bathtub. Till tried to protest, to squirm away, only to end up on Ivan's lap, naked and vulnerable.
He waited for the blow he knew would come, but felt a warm pressure against his lips instead.
“It's okay Tillie. I love you. I've got you, it's okay.” Ivan kissed him again and took advantage of a sob to work a tongue inside his mouth very gently.
Till felt dirty. Abused. Loved.
.
The seasons had changed, his hair was longer and some pants Ivan got him didn't quite fit him anymore.
Till wasn't sure how long he was down there, but was strangely pleased at the improvements in his life. He was no longer chained, could go to the bathroom alone and even bathe when he pleased.
Ivan still insisted on feeding him, so he just ate spoonful after spoonful while speaking about the most mundane things.
And yet, when Ivan looked at him with sudden dark, lustful eyes, he was back to being that scared child again.
He had stopped screaming after the time Ivan almost suffocated him with a pillow, so he just laid there and took it, nails scratching Ivan's shoulders with all he had. He told himself that it was his way to make Ivan pay for the hurt and shame and had nothing to do with the shocks that made his toes curl.
-
His sixteenth birthday. Almost a year down there. He had gotten a bedside lamp, a guitar, new fancy clothes, but never anything that could connect him with the exterior world. Only Ivan, always Ivan.
He had learned to accept Ivan's kisses. It was easier, safer. So, when a mouth closed over his just after he woke up, he didn’t question it.
He was kissed for what felt like hours, mouth tingling and swollen when Ivan finally let up. Even the gentle peck after felt uncomfortable after.
“Happy birthday, my Tillie.”
The feeling weighing in his chest tasted like guilt when he raised his head and met Ivan’s eyes- shrugging it off a little too quickly. After all, why should he feel bad for enjoying his company?
When Ivan started to kiss down his chest, he could feel a warmth between his legs. Only then had he acknowledged the guilt.
This is wrong, his mind whispered urgently, as if to remind him.
Is it? He argued back. Till shuddered as he felt that crooked tooth dig into his thigh. There was no more thinking, after that.
.
He was panting hard, both hands twisted on the covers as he watched Ivan's head bob up and down on his lap. The hands on his thighs spread him even wider and Till's face burned in embarrassment. That was quickly tossed aside as Ivan deep-throated him.
He couldn't think, couldn't find it in himself to shed any tears like he had been doing for the past year. He just arched his back and came for Ivan for the very first time.
As Ivan slept beside him later, Till did his best to conjure the feelings of guilt, violation, abuse. He told himself that he did not have to squint so the stubborn tears would roll down his cheeks.
.
Later that year, Till was carefully bundled up in a soft sweater and taken upstairs. He couldn't wipe the smile off his face at the feeling of the chilly winter breeze when he peeked his nose out a window.
“Don't do that baby, it's too cold.” Ivan's firm hands closed and locked the window in place, but generously left the curtains open so Till could appreciate the soft white coating the world.
He was carefully guided to sit on Ivan's lap on the couch and cuddle up to him. A mug of hot cocoa with marshmallows warmed his hands as they lounged by the light of the fireplace.
Till fell asleep to Ivan's voice spinning stories about the snow and pines, and christmas together. Together.
.
He woke up to silence, warm and snuggled against Ivan's chest. He moaned low and tried to find a more comfortable position, rubbing his face on Ivan's shirt and lifting a leg to draw the thigh between his own closer to his crotch. He rubbed against it sleepily for a moment and tried to decide if he had the energy to be horny.
That was when something glinting on the coffee table caught his eyes.
A key. Ivan's key.
Everything came back to him.
Till jumped up in horror, quickly freezing once Ivan grumbled at the lack of warmth and turned to face the back of the couch. His heart beat wildly in his chest, hands shaking violently.
What was he doing- he had to get out!
Till crawled up quiet as a mouse, closing his hand forcefully around the keys to keep them from making any sound. He could scarcely breathe as he made his way to the kitchen door, as far away from Ivan as he could.
He had to rest his forehead on the brick wall outside, right beside the open door. The feeling weighing down on him now was fear, he could name it. And it was even more terrifying that he couldn’t tell if it was fear of Ivan…or fear of the outside world.
Ivan's groggy voice called out from the living room, and he spurred into action.
He ran for his life, crossing street after street without looking back. His lungs ached, but he just pumped his legs faster and faster, desperate to get away from the nightmare his life had become.
A wail left his mouth when he heard a car turning the corner he just did. He skidded to a halt and ducked behind a wall to run between the houses lining the street.
Till climbed fences and jumped over benches, even hid inside a dog house when a car drove by slowly, high beams cutting through the darkening sky.
He wanted to cry in relief when he finally saw a train station ahead, he was going home. He could hide there until the trains were working in the morning, could ask the guards for help!
He was just down the first couple of steps when a car screeched to a halt beside him and Ivan jumped from the driver's seat, eyes murderous.
Till fell down the rest of the stairwell in shock, could feel the way the skin of his jaw split open, but scrambled up to get away, he was so close-
There were no words to describe his agonized scream when Ivan finally caught him from behind, arms hooked around him like a steel trap. He thrashed and cried, eyes hopeless as they watched the last train of the night leave.
.
The beating was violent, filled with rage. He wished for the backhands again, the occasional hair pulling, the forceful pushes when he misbehaved.
But this was bad. He had fucked up, really fucked up. He cried out as Ivan caught his calf in an iron grip and pulled him from where he had bunched in on himself, pushed up against the corner of a wall. With him eagle-spread on the floor, Ivan resumed his treatment, viciously bringing the belt down.
He screamed in agony as the buckle cut the thin skin over his ribs open, trying to curl into himself once more.
Crying for Ivan to stop didn't have any effect, so he just wailed and rolled away from the hurt, trying to form other words- to beg, to promise, to do anything so this would stop.
When he was still but for the shaking of his body, he felt the last definitive smack of the leather belt against his back. And then Ivan was on all fours over his huddled form, breathing in his ear.
“You belong to me.”
Till curled up and tried to will himself to die.
“You belong to me.” Ivan's voice repeated fiercely. “You're mine. Say it.”
Till moaned and a sob left his tired body.
“SAY IT!”
He jumped in fear and shook his head in agreement, tears he didn't even know he still had dripping down his cheeks.
“I'm yours. Just yours. All yours.”
Ivan's tension seemed to seep out of him slowly at the words, breathing evening out as his movements lost their maddened edge.
“Right. Right, Tillie. All mine, love.”
.
Ivan forced a pain pill down Till's throat and rubbed the blood from his body with a soft, cool towel. He then rubbed ointment all over his bruises with gentle, gentle fingers.
When he was done, he snuggled with Till under the covers and combed his ash colored hair with his fingers all night. Neither of them slept, looking into each other's eyes.
.
Morning came and Till forced his heavy eyelids to lift when Ivan's voice echoed around the basement.
“You know you deserved that, right?” His voice was low and soothing. It did wonders to his aching head, no matter what it was saying. But Till was listening attentively and took a minute to mull over it.
Well… he did run away. From someone who had cared for him for over a year. Someone who swore love to him everyday.
Till closed his eyes and let out a murmur of agreement.
“I hate it when you make me do that to you, baby. I don't know why you do it.” Ivan carefully brought him closer and grabbed Till's thigh to wind it around his hip.
Till snuggled up and nosed Ivan's collarbone.
“I love you, but this is your fault.” Ivan kissed his nodding head.
It was. How could he be so stupid, trying to run away from the one person that kept him safe, that loved him no matter what.
“So, promise me that you’ll behave from now on, ok?” Till looked up at Ivan, raising a hand to caress his handsome face.
“I will, I promise. I'm all yours.”
Ivan smiled and they slept, cuddled close, all night.
.
“Tillie! I'm home~”
Till smiled and dropped the bottle of cologne back to the bathroom counter. Combing his fingers through his hair one last time, he appraised himself in the mirror.
That new, intriguing smell delicately dabbed behind his ears would keep Ivan crazy all night looking for the source. They could go to the movies, dinner and then have a fun night rolling around in bed. Till hummed a happy tune at the thought.
Ivan caught him in the middle of a spin and laughed against his nape.
“Someone's excited for tonight~” The low voice sent a shiver down his spine, just as the inquisitive nose poked around his neck.
“Stop it, behave.” Till turned around with a naughty smile and leaned forward for a quick peck to his bottom lip.
He could sense Ivan's intentions from miles away when he was forced to take a step back. He hummed, smiled and twisted away from Ivan's hold.
“No way, mister. I'm legal today and really want to know how it feels to get wasted.”
Ivan caught him again and laughed against his neck. They wobbled together all the way to the garage door. Once there, Till turned around in Ivan's hold, teal eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Will you take care of me, when I'm drunk and helpless?” His smile was anything but innocent, coy eyes looking up from under long lashes.
Ivan leaned down to kiss him once again, whispering against his mouth. “When haven’t I?”
Till smiled and held Ivan flush against his body, just enjoying their closeness. Ivan once again buried his nose on his neck and Till smiled, accomplished.
“I love this cologne. I love the way you smell. Love you. Hmmmm.” A hickey, a mark for the world to see, a proof of his ownership. Till shivered and made a compromise with himself to wear a low cut shirt tomorrow so everyone could see it. It made him proud.
A last peck, to seal a deal, to seal their love.
“All mine.”
“All yours. Forever.”