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It was the best Christmas ever.
Of course it was, as long as Andrew was here, wrapped around his finger- or, more specifically, with Ivan wrapped around him, arm over his shoulder and squeezing him close. Every so often Andrew’s head would dip against Ivan- he was so sweet like this, when he’d let Ivan in, sleepy and docile..
He had only drank a little bit, and yet it was already working so well.
It was the worst Christmas ever.
Somehow, more stuffy and uncomfortable than all the years he’d spent with his parents. When he wasn’t fighting to stay awake, he was fighting to keep dinner down instead. Covered in his own sweat, and far too weak to shy away from Ivan’s prying hands, until..
”I should go, Ivan,” he’d shot up from the couch, not quite giving the other eye contact, just staring through. “Thanks for having me over, man.”
”So soon? What’s the rush, the movie isn’t even over?”
”I know, I know…” Ivan’s hand grabbing his wrist felt so warm- so deceiving, for rather than comforting heat, Andrew felt like he was reflexively yanking his arm away from a burn. “I don’t feel good, I’m sorry.”
He was a fool to believe that was the end of it. As fast as he could stumble towards the door and grab his coat, Ivan was still faster in this state- how was Andrew the only one sick, anyway?
”I’ll walk you outside.”
Andrew could’ve sworn the elevator wasn’t this far, that the hallway wasn’t this long. With every step he came even closer to throwing up, or losing the strength to stand on his own two legs. This was hopeless- how was he planning to drive home like this?
Then, he glanced back at Ivan, always just over his shoulder. He had to try.
In the end, he’d finally managed to trip over himself in the elevator, gripping the railings like his life depended on it, still trying to keep the little distance he could spare- but of course, there was nowhere to run until they made it to the first floor, and it didn’t take long for Ivan’s arms to wrap around his and support his weight instead.
”Are you sure you’re alright, man?”
”I’m- fine, just need to sleep..”
”You know, you can always sleep here.”
”No.” Andrew’s reply was instantaneous, without any doubt, even as the elevator doors slid open and the snowstorm outside came into view.
”I don’t think you’ll make it in this weather..” Andrew sank further against Ivan- not because he wanted to, but instead because the blizzard felt like a moment of defeat. "Looks like a snowstorm.”
”I-I’ll be fine, man..” He’d shoved himself away from Ivan without thinking- he was shaking, violently, though his legs decided to cooperate. “Thanks, though.”
”What do you mean? You won’t even make it to the car..” Ivan was closing in on him again, this time against the wall- not quite grabbing him again, but instead looming over him like a silent threat- like he was expecting something. “It’s up to your knees out there.”
”My- my car isn’t far..” He’d say anything to get away at this point, the panic was evident in his voice, even as he started to doze off again. “I really should go, it’ll be okay. It’ll be…”
”You don’t need to be in such a rush. Hurts my feelings, y’know?”
Ivan probably wasn’t even heard; as soon as he had spoken Andrew had slumped forward against his chest, breathing slow and weighing him down much more than before. He was out for good, this time… just to be sure Ivan lifted his chin, searching for substance in those unfocused, half lidded eyes.
”There, there..” Ivan murmured, shallow breaths against Andrew’s lips. Tempted, almost.. But instead, he scooped Andrew up into his arms, and dragged him back towards the elevator.
There was a hint of irony in the fact that Andrew only really listened, really complied with Ivan’s wishes when he wasn’t completely there in the first place. But Ivan wasn’t asking for much- at least he didn’t think so. All he really wanted was Andrew. Was that so much to ask for?
The living room was much darker than before when they returned; on the TV screen, the credits were rolling to a soft, almost silent piano. Ivan only found the subtle background noise irritating, dragging Andrew’s weight past the kitchen, past the bathroom door, all the way to his own room instead.
It dawned on him then that Andrew had never even been in here before. Ivan came close to second guessing himself- what had he even done to deserve this.. Andrew, here, in his room? All his? As he sank down towards his bed and pulled Andrew into his lap, his breathing started to shake again. He couldn’t have dreamt of this moment if he tried; Andrew felt so perfect in his arms. Warm- overheated and feverish from the pill Ivan had slipped into his drink- and delicate- even in his slumber he trembled, like that threat of danger still loomed over him in his dreams.
He never wanted Andrew to be so scared of him- but clearly, he’d brought this upon himself. If only he’d listen, bend to Ivan’s will, compromise even a little… If he just trusted Ivan, even a little, things would be so much easier.
Ivan’s hand against his cheek must have felt like ice, considering Andrew himself was burning up. Grazing Andrew’s lips with his thumb, parting them slightly.. Ivan treated him like porcelain; not because he was deserving of the grace, but instead because Ivan wished to savor the moment.
And even then, barely upright, perched upon Ivan’s lap, Andrew was still above him. Still so perfect, unattainable in the other’s eyes… Still looking down on him, viewing him as a lesser being, in this state of unconsciousness. If only Andrew was awake, he’d make sure this god among men never forgot about him again.
”You’re so cruel, Andrew…” Ivan hissed, finally tossing the other aside to sink into the mattress. “You never think about me, what I want… you’re a terrible friend.”
The force had only made Andrew stir a little, uncertain, still unaware whimpers in his sleep as he rolled over onto his back. Right where Ivan wanted him… slowly, both hands crept under his pink hoodie. “Can’t you give me this? Just this?” Andrew was still burning up, still covered in sweat, only for his entire body to shudder as the hoodie was peeled up and away.
For a while, Ivan just stared, thumbs tracing the jagged scars lining Andrew’s chest over and over. He was practically committing them to memory- half doting, half disgust.
”You never tell me anything- Andrew..” Finally growing bored, he reached one hand up to pinch one of Andrew’s nipples instead- only soft enough to keep him asleep, filled with contempt all the while. “It doesn’t matter what you do to your body. You’ll always be so, so beautiful… to me.”
Despite the implications of those scars- the truth that Andrew had dared to keep, even from Ivan of all people, he couldn’t stop touching, pressing his thumb to those uneven secrets, condemning them and praising Andrew all the while. He was too far gone to contain his excitement.. Instead Ivan leaned in, holding his breath in anticipation, before his lips pressed to Andrew’s chest.
Andrew’s skin was as soft as Ivan often dreamed of, save for those scars he hadn’t expected. He was always trying to run away- from Ivan, from the truth, from the person he’d become, yet his body gave away everything in an instant. Why did Andrew hide this- did he really think Ivan was so awful?
He’d already started to squirm again, but when Ivan’s teeth just barely grazed his skin- barely a warning, before he’d clamped down on Andrew’s nipple- his weak mewls hinted at the pain. Andrew could barely form words, let alone grasp at anything but the sharp pressure on his skin- he gripped the sheets with what little strength his body could bear, calling out to the rather distant image of the friend he seemed to loathe- the mere thought of Andrew’s protest forced Ivan to abandon the scars without thinking, tugging on the other nipple as he bit down even harder.
The gasp that escaped Andrew’s lips was much louder than before, practically echoing off of the thin walls that enclosed them- he had jerked abruptly, though he couldn’t possibly get away in this state. Even his whimpers and pleas sounded so melodic, so perfect to Ivan. He couldn’t possibly get enough of Andrew; not even when the taste of his skin, sweet as candy, was drowned out by the metallic taste of blood on his tongue.
Andrew’s pain, Andrew’s bloodshed, only made Ivan crave more. He’d gone from biting to sucking the life out of the other’s skin like he’d been deprived of the taste. Meanwhile, the hand that had been busy abusing Andrew’s other nipple crept lower, past the scars on his chest, fingers crawling down the other’s belly like a spider that Andrew couldn’t shake. Whether or not he’d accept it, Ivan really was starting to feel like trouble- the moment he slipped past Andrew’s waistband was the only moment he would pause to think. Not because he was reconsidering it all, regretting what he’d done- no, this was the very moment he’d been waiting for.
He just wasn’t expecting Andrew to not have a dick, but- he could work with this. His boxers were already soaked after all, and when Ivan’s hand slipped past them, his fingers were just as wet the moment he’d prodded around enough to slide them straight into the hole.
From there, Ivan had no clue what he was doing. He hadn’t expected to get here, to go this far- of course he’d dreamt of it, and the way Andrew’s back arched beneath him as his cries were choked to silence could not compare to any of those fantasies. But there was no way to tell if he was doing this right, his fingers could only go so far.. to compensate, he’d picked up the pace, unsure if the sound of Andrew raising his voice again meant anything good.
”Andrew… there’s nothing to be afraid of, see?” Ivan was already out of breath himself, blood tinted lips ghosting Andrew’s skin, only barely parting with the nipple he left to bleed. “It doesn’t matter who you are- what you are… you’re perfect.”
He continued to pick up the pace until he just couldn’t bear any more, his entire hand covered in Andrew’s mess when he rose to tug his own pants down, only halfway to his knees before he was palming his own boxers with his wet hand. “Look what you’ve done to me…”
Much like his own sweatpants, Ivan only yanked Andrew’s pants down far enough to hastily line up with the man beneath him, admiring the view with such conviction- but he’d only halted to pump his own cock with the mess on his hand for a split second before he was pressing the tip straight into Andrew.
Only then did Ivan realize that, despite the fact Andrew probably wasn’t very lucid to begin with, he’d become a tear stained, whimpering mess. Ivan was sure those half lidded eyes couldn’t focus if he tried, even though part of him wished Andrew would never forget this moment. At least Ivan, himself, wouldn’t. It was quite different from what he’d always imagined, of course, but Andrew was still so unbelievably tight, his voice was so dreamy and high- this was much more than he could’ve ever asked for. Andrew would’ve never given him this. He was so cold, so unforgiving- only now, his skin was on fire, and his insides were so warm and inviting..
Not willing to forget a single moment of it all, he looked down. Where the two of them met, where he continued to shove deeper and deeper, there was something undeniably out of place- blood.
Immediately, Ivan knew. That much was obvious, wasn’t it? Andrew was his, only his.. Andrew had saved this moment, just for him. Ivan was his first, his only- at the same time he felt the smile creeping up his face, a tear slid down his cheek.
”Andrew…? Does it hurt?” As he leaned in to bury his face in Andrew’s neck, he could feel his heart pounding in his chest, echoing the other’s racing pulse as the rest of his body moved at a much slower pace. “Is it even a fraction of the way you make me feel?”
Just as soon as he spoke, something snapped in Ivan. He hated Andrew- he loved him more than anyone else in the world. He didn’t deserve to be treated like this- he wasn’t even worthy of Andrew’s presence. He’d gone too far- he couldn’t stop. He had his chance, then and there, to end things before he could do any more damage. Instead, folding Andrew’s legs up against himself, he crashed straight into the other’s hips with all of his indignant might.
Immediately, Ivan himself felt dizzy. Andrew was tight, almost painfully so, and so incredibly hot that Ivan couldn’t help melting into him, sloppy and uncoordinated until their lips brushed together. “It feels so- good, Andrew… You’re sooo perfect..”
His eyes shot open again at the sound of Andrew’s breath shaking. This wasn’t the same uncertain whimpers, unconscious winces of pain- instead, Andrew was staring back, wide eyed horror, lips trembling as he opened them to scream.
”No, no- no..!” Ivan didn’t have many options to keep Andrew quiet- the other was already reaching up to his shoulders, still considerably weaker, but trying to shove Ivan off with every bit of his strength. A kiss wouldn’t work, not this time…
Unsteady, he lowered one hand to Andrew’s neck. When the action only made him scream even louder, he squeezed with the other, too. At least now, Andrew’s choked gasps for air were soft, quiet enough to keep the peace- to reel Ivan back to rocking his hips.
He had already been dangerously close to his own climax- morbid as it was, the terror, the look of death in Andrew’s eyes, had only driven him even closer, even madder. Almost as soon as he’d started thrusting, there was no more rhythm, no tact or grace- only Ivan picking up the pace, chasing release in the wake of Andrew’s demise.
Wide as they were, there was no light in Andrew’s eyes. Not a hint of pleasure, even fear started to wane with his awareness. No matter what Ivan did, clearly, it would never be enough for Andrew. But Ivan, himself, felt like he was going insane…
”Andrew,” his hands had lifted long enough to hear the other gasp, only to choke the life out of Andrew again when a groan left his lips. “I’m so happy… I never would’ve thought that- we could have a baby…” Ivan, himself, had started to tear up- but he hadn’t stopped moving.
Only with those words, the fight was knocked back into Andrew. No, no- anything but that.. He wanted to scream, he needed to fight, he clawed at Ivan’s arms like his life depended on it. Ivan could kill him. He was capable, Andrew knew that much- but if he didn’t, if Ivan kept him alive..
That sounded like a fate worse than death.
”…What? You don’t want that?”
The tears rolling down Ivan’s cheeks only filled Andrew with even more terror. He was out of control. There was no predicting him, or how this would end, or if Andrew would live- if he even wanted to live, after all of this. Every time he was slammed into felt like a wound being torn open over, and over, and over again. The fight, the fear of it was all he had- if he had to withstand Ivan any longer- if a child had to suffer with Ivan in their life..
He’d much rather die.
Andrew was running out of time, and options. He wouldn’t be able to shake Ivan’s hands off of his neck, he just didn’t have the strength- so, instead, he lashed out, nails scratching as deep as he could into Ivan’s cheek.
”Fuck…!”
Partially, he’d succeeded. Ivan pulled one hand back to retaliate, digging bruises into Andrew’s leg as he bit into it- Andrew could feel that he’d broken skin, but not exactly where, for Ivan continued to bite all over.
”Why won’t you.. accept me..?”
Though he asked, Andrew truly had no choice- in that moment, buried as deep as he could go, hips glued together by sweat and overwhelming heat, Ivan finally came- shuddering, groaning as his fingers dug into Andrew’s skin, burning that image of dejection into his memory. Andrew would have to accept him. All of him. He wouldn’t let a single drop go to waste- if that was what it took for Andrew to be his, for them to be happy, then so be it.
It was hard to tell if Andrew had accepted defeat, lost all sense of self altogether, or just finally passed out from the lack of oxygen. The glimmer in his eyes only reflected the dam of tears held there- the light itself was gone. He’d done something horrible. Andrew must have thought so- no, Andrew must have hated him. If this was going to work…
”I’m sorry, Andrew… I’m so- sorry..” When he released his grip on the other’s neck, Andrew seemed to shudder for a moment, but he hardly budged. For the moment, still attached to Andrew at the hips, still pinning him with his weight, Ivan felt calm. Silence, peace… joy. There was no one else in the world he’d ever want a child with. He would’ve ruled out children altogether if it wasn’t possible- and he had, already, not knowing Andrew’s true nature. But Andrew, his muse, was a gift that kept on giving..
Andrew’s nearly lifeless body started to squirm again as Ivan pecked at his skin. There was no possible way to remedy, or fix, what he’d done. There was no undoing this- he knew that, even when he’d first come up with the plan. But as he continued leaving a trail of kisses, down from Andrew’s collar to the scars on his chest all the way to his stomach, it struck him that he couldn’t regret it. The thought, the chance that they’d have their very own bundle of joy was a Christmas miracle above all else.