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Ivan woke up in the middle of the night, the only sounds he could hear were the crickets and stray cars in the road.
He tried to fall back asleep only to close his eyes with no progress whatsoever; all he’d done was toss and turn over and over again. He’d been struggling to maintain a proper sleep schedule lately. Reason being? He wouldn’t know…maybe it was his roommate, he thought, but he didn’t want to place the blame on him.
He decided to go to the living room instead to watch TV and pass the time. He didn’t walk so carefully when he went to the living room— despite knowing that Andrew was sleeping on the floor—since he knew the TV would wake Andrew up anyway.
It took a few minutes of loud-volumed chattering and vivid images of the television screen to wake Andrew up. He was such a heavy sleeper, but Ivan didn’t mind too much. Although he was getting tired of cooking up breakfast and lunch all the time for the both of them only for him to eat it by himself most of the time.
Andrew rubbed his eyes as he began regaining consciousness. “Ivan, what the hell?”
“Good morning, Andrew.” Ivan replied, not bothering to look up from the TV.
“Morning?” Andrew looked around the room for the clock, his voice was still groggy as he complained. “Ivan, it’s the middle of the night!”
“Yes, of course, it’s midnight. I’m aware.”
“Couldn’t you at least like, watch from any other device?”
Ivam sighed, “I didn’t know that even when you first wake up the first thing you do is to complain. I make food for you that you don’t eat, give you support while you work that you push away. But you don’t talk about that.”
Andrew went silent for a few moments, considering what to reply to that. He exhaled tiredly, sitting up and propping himself up so his back was against the wall.
“Sorry,” Andrew said above a whisper. He wasn’t even sure if Ivan heard what he said.
Ivan glanced at him while nodding his head slightly though, “Mhm.”
“Still, the TV is unnecessarily loud.”
Ivan snorted, “I thought you could wake up sooner. You know, you’ve been waking up past noon a lot more lately.”
“Oh. My bad.”
“It’s whatever, I guess. I’m just… concerned, that’s all.”
A few moments of silence between them lasted, other than the unnecessarily loud television.
“...by the way, Ivan,”
“Hm?”
“Are you the one putting the quotes in my game?”
“Which ones?”
“The ones that were supposed to be deleted?”
“Oh, yeah. I did. Do you not like it?”
“No, why else would it have been deleted?”
“I like it, though. It’s a good piece.”
“But I told you not to touch my game. I don’t like it, Ivan.”
“But I’m the one who wrote it. I mean, I helped write it.”
“You don’t need to help, you know? I didn’t- I’ve never asked you to.”
“Andrew, these are only quotes.”
“Sure, but I’ve told you to stop. Please stop.”
“...Andrew,”
“I can’t keep taking excuses, Ivan. Please?”
“Shouldn’t a friend be helping, huh?” his voice was starting to raise, “You’re so stubborn—”
“I’m stubborn?” he retorted, “I’ve told you multiple times that I don’t need the help. That I’ve told you to stop. But you don’t.”
“But you don’t tell me why.”
Andrew started to stand at this point, clearly agitated. “Do I really need to tell you? Ivan, these are my boundaries. I- I…”
“Of course. Just like how it’s your game.”
“Because it is!”
“So after everything I’ve done for you because you are my friend, I get shut down just for wanting to have a little bit of creative freedom?”
“No, it’s not like that at all-”
“I do this all for free,” Ivan cut in again, “I let you stay at my house for free— do I seem like nothing to you?”
“That’s not true! Ivan, I appreciate your willingness, aspirations, and everything you’ve done for me. Seriously, I mean it. But if you just keep disobeying what I’m trying to ask of you, I— I just can’t-”
“But you can. Why don’t you?”
“I…” Andrew pauses, “I just don’t want to.”
Ivan sighs, and Andrew continues.
“Look, if you want creative freedom, make your own game. I’ve seen your writing. You have the talent, Ivan. I want that. So you can- should use your talent for something other than–”
“No, you don’t want me at all. Is that why you've destroyed everything I create? ”
Andrew slightly grunts. “No. Listen, no one is stopping you in making your own charade. I’ve never asked you to help me. You did that yourself.”
Ivan purses his lips, “...so it does mean nothing to you.”
Neither of them know how long they have been going at this for. Maybe a whole episode of the random series that was playing on the TV. Every time they both get into an argument, god knows how long it would last.
It’s dragged on, it’s personal, it’s in borderline invasive trenches. It’s cowardly.
“You’re always like this, aren’t you? “ Andrew circles his temple to relieve some of his headache from the yelling, the loud speakers of the TV, his feeling of agitation, “Ivan, seriously, you never listen to me. Every time we talk about development, you get so…weird.”
Ivan turned his head to look away from Andrew’s face, blocking out the sounds getting into his head.
“God, Ivan. Don’t do this.”
The only reply Andrew got was silence.
“...Ivan?”
“...”
“Ivan, please-”
“...”
I’m sorry.”
“...”
Andrew was starting to walk closer to the other man as he also started getting concerned. “Ivan, are you—”
“Shut up.” Ivan snapped, looking back at Andrew’s eyes.
Andrew took a step backwards when he heard the piercing words—he immediately broke the eye contact.
“I’m sorry for letting you into my home for months.” Andrew pursed his lips as Ivan started talking, still looking the opposite direction. “I’m sorry for caring for you, for dropping literally everything the moment you need anything from me. Sorry for forgiving you whenever you play the victim, and you make me fall into your hands over and over again—”
“Ivan.”
“You say sorry to me, but you won’t change! You never do. And yet you continue playing as the one most hurt within these walls despite leeching onto me for your needs! Even now, even now I bet you’re trying to act like that, no?” Ivan tries to recollect himself before lashing out again, “God, Andrew—”
Andrew grumbles, “Ivan,” he tries again.
“You said it would only be two weeks. Now look around, look at the calendar. It is far past two weeks now, Andrew.”
“Ivan,” he threw his hands up, “let me talk, please?”
“No, Andrew. Go on and tell me. Tell me how sorry you really are. Tell me.“
Silence.
There was no one talking for however long they could count.
Andrew was looking at him again, and it seemed like all his words replayed in the back of his head. Ivan doesn’t think sometimes whenever he loses his temper—as if either of them do in the first place. They can’t think when they’re together.
“...I wish I could keep saying sorry, Andrew.” He apologized in a hushed voice. “To easily say sorry like how you do, when it’s fabricated. It’s just—…I’m sorry that I’m more genuine than—”
“Oh my god, Ivan!” Andrew groans, “How about you shut up!”
Ivan scoffs, “Make me. Do it, make me stay quiet. Shut me up, and-”
Ivan feels like making a time-travel machine in the middle of this spur of the moment once Andrew starts moving closer towards him. Oh, to say ‘I take it back’ and actually do.
“Andrew, I was kidding. Really, I’m sorry, okay?” Ivan starts putting his feet up on the couch just to feel like he’s getting away from what he’s about to get into. “...I’m really sorry.” He says again, as if it’ll help.
Andrew is now on the couch with him, knees resting between Ivan’s. They both stare at each other in silence, entranced in the other. They look at one another intensively and awkwardly, unknowing when to move. It’s as if they’re both teenage boys having their first kiss again. The damned, forsaken, loud television is screeching in some way, glitching like they’re almost out of power. It’s showing a random soap drama of a new cable network they haven’t bothered to check out, and they didn’t notice when exactly it started airing.
Ivan tried coughing in anticipation, it’s rare for either of them to make the first move, so they took it ever so carefully to see who would take the lead.
Ivan doesn’t want to, but if no one seems to do it first, he might as well. This is gross, he thinks it’s gross. He’s always been more enticed in looking at Andrew most especially, but as long as it was Andrew, he didn’t really care whether it was lips on lips or anything else. It wouldn’t change anything, it wouldn’t.
He placed a hand on Andrew’s thigh once he'd gained the confidence he’d been wanting, and slowly pushed him down, climbing on top of him so he’s right above the other, pinning him on the half-busted couch.
“I don’t like how you always get what you want.” Andrew whispers as he tries to relax himself and lay back when Ivan guides him.
“Give it a rest,” Ivan replies huskily, “I don’t like how you act towards me either.”
“I do not like you,” he frowns, “how about that?’
Ivan scoffs, “Sure you do.” he reaches underneath the thin t-shirt that hardly wraps around Andrew’s entire figure, keeping his free hand to support his weight to avoid crushing the man below..
They stay like this in silence as Ivan continues running his hand around Andrew’s top body, their smiles and frowns fade and their cheeks color red as time ticks between the two.
Ivan’s hand moves up to grab Andrew’s jaw while still under the t-shirt; His hands just passed through the collar of it. He could feel the hotness that captured the bright hue of red surrounding Andrew’s face. He tilts his chin up and leans in closer, closing in the gap that lingers in between.
But he doesn’t take in Andrew’s lips yet, and he stares at the anticipated, scrunched up face of his before blowing on his eyelids, forcibly making Andrew’s eyes shut closer and open with a frown.
Ivan chuckles before pinching his cheeks, then he kisses on it softly before biting on it, which makes Andrew yelp aloud, possibly louder than the TV in the background.
Seriously, why is the TV still on?
Ivan ignores the thought and licks the side of Andrew’s mouth down to his collarbone. He hears a breathy whimper come out of the other’s mouth. He sucks lightly enough on his neck to leave a red mark but not enough to bruise it. His hand that’s busy massaging Andrew’s body starts feeling sweat cover his hand and the cloth getting damp, especially around his chest and his back.
He sits up to straddle Andrew and he lifts his hand up to take in a better view of Andrew’s top body. The beads of sweat that are glowing through the reflection of the light coming from the television are visible and the light pink nipples on his chest are free for him to see and most importantly, touch.
He runs a thumb over one nipple and he feels Andrew arch his back against him. He moves his free hand to place two of his fingers inside of Andrew’s mouth to give him more stimulation. It’s warm and wet, and he instinctively begins to suck on it. Occasionally he starts gagging, considering the fact that he’s laying down, and Ivan feels every vibration coming from his mouth.
He leans in to lick the strand of saliva dripping down his chin, then he removes his fingers entirely to suck on them himself, tasting Andrew’s saliva firsthand. He feels Andrew arch his back again and whimper a soft tone in complaint. Ivan finally feels pity in Andrew and captures him in a deep kiss.
They both hum contently in the kiss, immediately and easily folding for each other. Ivan moves his hand that was originally on Andrew’s chest to his cheek, carefully transferring to the back of his head.
Andrew’s seeing stars, and he’s fully submerged through every bodily sense. All he hears are Ivan’s groans gnawing back into his throat, tasting how Ivan does when it’s mixed with his own saliva, seeing the TV glow capture Ivan’s shadows and highlights, feeling Ivan resting on top of him, his hands journeying throughout his own body, smelling the sweet sense of shared sweat, the combination of their natural smells and the scent of intertwined bonds.
It’s intoxicating. Ivan won’t stop pressing himself against him, won’t stop exploring each crevice of his lips. It was soft at first, but it gradually started getting rougher, barely taking any breaths in between. The two went on, and the more breathy and obvious was his moans getting, how desperate it was getting. How much he wanted, and wanted, and wanted.
When they stopped kissing after God knows how long, they just rested on the couch, fulfilled, unforgiven.