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This is a risk.
For every single time they’ve shared wet, heated kisses in the backseat of a car with tinted windows, the prospect of getting caught lingers at the back of their minds.
The air is heavy, the car shifting its weight slightly as Ivan coaxes Till to sit on his lap. The raven pulls him so impossibly close that he’s certain Ivan can hear the wild drumming in his chest. But then again, it ends up being drowned out by Till’s low whimpers, the soft moans being drawn out of his throat as Ivan leans close to his ear and reminds him to stay quiet. The oblivious pedestrians that walked by used to catch them off guard, but they’ve done this enough times that they’re both long past caring for that sort of thing now.
For every afternoon they’ve spent messing around in Till’s dressing room trailer, their secret hangs in a delicate balance.
It’s only ever supposed to be during his breaks, but sometimes—or well, most times, they push it for a bit longer. Till finds out very quickly that Ivan is really good at convincing him to do a lot of things, and much like the rest of the world that’s wrapped around his finger, he is certainly not immune to the rockstar’s charms. In truth, Ivan shouldn’t even be showing his face on set in fear that it’ll only make people suspicious, but BLACK SORROW always just so happens to be conveniently ‘rehearsing’ nearby, and it would be a shame not to take advantage of the opportunity. Between Till’s hectic filming schedule and Ivan’s constant travel, they rarely see each other as it is. There are only so many times that the actor can chalk it up to pure coincidence, but at the same time, it’s not like Till has plans to complain about it anytime soon.
For every rendezvous at a booked hotel room close to the venues where Ivan’s band is performing, it becomes significantly harder to hide, and the stakes are at an all time high.
Till would sneak in and hide under the guise of night just to spend a few hours with Ivan, only to carefully slip away at the crack of dawn the day after. Most times, it’s just sex, but every now and then, they would have nights when they would just lie there and talk. Till likes hearing about Ivan’s day, finding it all interesting and so drastically different from his own even though they're both in the entertainment industry. He’s addicted to the banter, Ivan’s cocky smile, the way he thinks he’s always one step ahead.
The rockstar has been occupying his mind as of late, and any more of this… and well, Till isn’t sure if he can keep his own sanity in check (or sleep, for that matter).
On his drive home the morning after, his phone will buzz and light up with a series of teasing messages from the singer about how he should have stayed, complaining about how the actor left without even saying a proper goodbye, or worse yet, without a goodbye kiss (then cue in about half a billion broken heart and fallen rose petal emojis). Till calls him dramatic, but he promises to consider staying for longer next time.
And for every next time that comes after, the older boy finds it harder and harder to leave the raven's sleeping form.
The point is that they’re always away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi, all too ready to feast on the next scandal, and the hidden intimacy of the not-so-relationship between BLACK SORROW’s charismatic frontman and the ever illustrious Till-sunbae, is bound to take the industry by storm. That is, assuming anyone finds out.
Regardless, against his better judgement, and maybe as a slightly impulsive decision on his part, Till still decided it would be a good idea to accept Ivan’s ever present invitation to watch one of his shows. Despite being the eye of the hurricane, the center of attention, an obvious risk.
But still.
It was worth it to see the raven perform live, all the clips and videos all over the internet hardly doing any form of justice to the way that Ivan’s presence commands the attention of the entire crowd, the way the deepness of his voice sends shivers down his spine, and how his words sink into his skin.
Self-conscious that someone might recognize him, he had tugged his cap down and readjusted his mask about a million times, wore a new shirt that he bought that day and was careful not to look up for too long.
And yet.
Exactly once during the show, their eyes had met, and the slightest glint in Ivan’s eyes suggested that he might have been recognized. Ivan had winked then, and the girls that stood around him swooned their hearts out as if it was for them, but little do they know.
He considers chalking it up to mere coincidence, and that’s probably it, but the idea of Ivan being able to spot him regardless of being one face in the crowd of a sold out stadium makes his heart skip a beat, once again tethering him dangerously close to a line that he doesn’t think he’s allowed to cross.
This arrangement with Ivan is just sex.
They haven’t talked about anything beyond that, and they really don’t need to. The last thing they both needed are feelings being thrown into the mix to make this all complicated. It’s easier this way, he reminds himself. Safer.
But it doesn’t stop Till from wondering.
There is a quiet beep before the hotel room door swings wide open, the new arrival’s crimson gaze immediately landing on Till. It comes with the usual gait of overbearing confidence and quiet amusement that he’s long since associated with the singer. Fortunately for Ivan, Till finds it unbelievably hot.
His mouth curves into one of those smiles that’s reserved for Till, nothing at all like the practiced ones on the receiving end of cameras. It’s warm, inviting, addictive, shifting the rhythmic beating in his chest turns into something more erratic.
It’s crazy to think that they had met just under a year ago, merely two strangers who just so happened to glance at the other from halfway across the gala, a seemingly magnetic pull between them that Till had never felt with anyone before. Ivan had approached him then – so confidently, so sure, and Till thought he was obnoxious and so up himself.
Spending the next few hours with the other boy had made him realize that maybe Ivan wasn’t… half bad, and after he lost count of the drinks that he’s had, he found himself in Ivan’s bed at the end of the night, and now, well, there’s this, and Till has started to feel all sorts of things that he really shouldn’t.
From the moment they met, he should have known that Ivan has always been a risk.
“You certainly took your time,” Till mumbles as he presses his palms flat against the pristine white sheets beneath him, choosing to remain seated on the side of the bed instead of getting up to greet him. He refuses to give Ivan the satisfaction.
There is the briefest moment when the only sound in the room is the quiet whirring of the airconditioner, Ivan taking his sweet time raking his gaze over Till’s form, his presence, as if not believing that he’s there, before he takes a few strides into the room, shrugging his jacket off and tossing it on the table. “I tried to get here as soon as I could, but I got caught up on the way out.”
“Right,” he sighs. It’s a conscious effort not to roll his eyes, and instead, he channels it into a wave of his hand. “Your adoring fans.”
If Till thinks the paparazzi is bad when it comes to himself and his co-stars, it worsens tenfold when it comes to Ivan. He’s on the tabloids nearly every second day, fans speculating this mystery person that he’s supposedly dating. Or well, fucking, being the technical term. His reputation seems to make believe he’s not capable of the commitment. Till doesn’t think that’s true at all, but then again, the media likes to paint him in a certain kind of way.
Ivan cares. A lot.
He remembers all the little things, the most perceptive person that Till knows (which is saying a lot, because Sua rarely misses anything). It never takes him too long to know that something is bothering Till just from their text messages, or from the way his voice is just a little bit off, and the actor wonders if he’s just that obvious. If not that, then has Ivan really been paying such close attention to him this whole time?
No, Till shuts down the thought immediately. It can't be, and to believe it would be wishful thinking.
“And now you’re one of them,” he teases as he closes the distance between them, playing with the strands of Till’s hair before he presses a soft kiss against his lips. Till feels him smile. “You came. You were at my show.”
His bitter mood immediately turns, which only goes to show how much power Ivan holds over him. Stupid rockstar with his stupid smile and now there are butterflies in his stomach and he just feels too much.
“Don’t get used to it,” Till says breathlessly in between kisses, pulling Ivan by the shirt to drag him closer for a deeper one. By the time he pulls away, his cheeks are warm and his heart is beating way too fast for his liking. “Finished up the interview early so I had some extra time for once. Figured I might as well stop by and see what all the fuss is all about.”
The other boy urges him to continue, “And?”
And, it’s easily the best performance he’s ever seen live, but that would be stroking the raven’s already massive ego.
“You’re…” he cycles through a few compliments in his head, but he overthinks each and every single one of them. “Good. Obviously. I’m sure you already know that.”
Ivan chuckles quietly, and the bed sinks slightly as he takes a seat next to him. “But it’s different coming from you.”
His heart sings. Till tells it to shut up.
“Anyway,” the silver-haired boy clears his throat, “I’m not planning to make a habit out of it. This is just a one-time thing.”
“Uh huh,” Ivan teases.
“I’m a busy guy.”
“Sure.”
He stumbles over his words. “Stop… stop doing that.”
“Stop doing what?”
“Doubting me.”
“I'll stop doubting you when you stop lying. Does Luka know you skipped your interview to sneak into my concert?” Ivan unlocks his phone to show his screen to Till. All too prepared for the retaliation, there is a short article about Till ‘unfortunately’ missing the interview because of ‘clashing’ schedules, with Sua there in his place to talk about an upcoming project.
His co-star had thankfully agreed to cover for him if it meant sorting out his ‘love life’ or whatever it is that she called it, and in exchange for VIP BLACK SORROW tickets so she can meet a certain pink-haired guitarist from Ivan’s band.
It brings him back to just a few hours ago when Luka had all but yelled at him on the phone about how he could have missed such an important interview blah blah blah yada yada, but also he didn’t feel like going anyway because that nighttime show was entertaining baseless accusations about Ivan that he didn’t particularly like, and he’s not sure if he can go through the entire interview without lunging at the TV host for his shitty takes.
He didn’t think he could hide it forever, but at the same time, he didn’t realize that he’d get found out so easily.
Fuck.
“Stalking me now?” he mumbles as he grabs the phone from him and locks it, tossing it somewhere on the other side of the bed. Out of sight, out of mind. “Besides, Luka doesn’t have to know.”
The last thing he needed was his manager yelling at him (again) to get his shit together. Luka does so much of it that he’s a broken record at this point.
The bastard has the audacity to laugh, his stupid voice sounding just as mesmerizing as when he sings. Anakt truly has favorites, huh?
“Perhaps a little bit presumptuous of me to say, but I’m pretty sure he already does, and I don’t mean just the show either.” His hand wraps over Till’s, and with it comes a certain aura of comfort that he only gets from the other boy’s presence. It’s nice… and warm and it feels just like home. “About us.”
“And I wonder whose fault that is?” He raises an eyebrow, a slight push as he escapes his grasp and trails a finger down Ivan’s chest. “You aren’t exactly being subtle, are you?”
There are quick flashes of the last few months.
Stolen glances from across the room, followed by the curve of a boyish grin.
A hand protectively resting against his lower back while they walk. The older boy tells him off and Ivan always says it’s an accident (Till doesn’t believe him, but when he does it again a bit later, he doesn’t say anything about it).
Quick kisses in an empty room that Till is dragged into, his back against the wall as Ivan’s weight presses him harder against it.
Ivan’s silent glare when someone else gets to drop the honorifics and calls him Till too. Ivan thinks Till doesn’t notice, but he always does.
A playful grin accompanies his shrug. “I can’t help it.”
“Control yourself. We’re not teenagers.”
“You make me feel like one,” Ivan hums. “It made me happy to see you there, you know? I keep hoping you'll be in the spot I always reserve for you.”
“I–” Till feels his cheeks burn as he looks away.
The show just so happened to have extra tickets, my ass. It’s fucking Ivan, of all people. He should have known it was all planned from the start.
But still, Till would be lying if he says hearing that didn’t make his heart skip a beat.
The rockstar cups his face to make him look at him, and the air shifts to something a little bit heavier, the quiet mechanical humming of the air conditioner suddenly so much louder. “Would it be so bad if we made it official?”
His brows furrow, thinking he couldn’t have possibly heard that right. There was just… no way. “Official?”
“Be my boyfriend,” he caresses his cheek with his thumb. “Let me tell the world. Please, Till?”
He tries to pull away because they need to steer clear of this conversation fast, but Ivan keeps him in place. His gaze is heartfelt, honest, and Till feels his resolve weakening already. “You know what they’ll all say–”
“I don’t care.” Ivan presses his forehead against Till’s and sighs. “And I know you don’t either. No, don’t give me that look,” Ivan says with an expectant stare. “You don’t actually give a shit about what Luka thinks, so what’s holding you back?”
Till lets a beat pass. Then another.
Ivan does a good job of hiding it, but Till knows the other boy gets worried about things like this, getting lost in his own head about how he’s seen. All completely valid, of course, but he’s just not sure how he can bring it up, or if he even has the right.
“The media is breathing down your neck as it is,” he mumbles, gaze trained on his own hands over his lap. “I just… don’t want to make it worse. With me being me and you being you… it’s just. We’re both high profile, obviously, and the paparazzi trailing you… us, will increase tenfold and I know you already get stressed enough over them. I don’t want to make the wrong move because I love you and if any word of this gets out, then it’ll just make everything more difficult. Not to mention Marty will probably complain about it until your ears fall off and that’ll be so annoying–”
The rockstar perks up. “What did you say?”
Eyebrows scrunched together, Till says, “Marty complaining until your ears fall off?”
“No, before that,” Ivan urges.
“You know I’m not exaggerating about the paparazzi right? I swear just the other day I spotted one of them inside a trash can–”
He shakes his head. “You said you loved me.”
“Oh.” Till’s eyes widen, then he laughs nervously, mind reeling and backtracking the string of sentences that he’s rambled out in the hopes that Ivan is wrong. “No, you must have heard that wrong. I… didn’t say that.”
“I think you did.”
Fuck, did he really?
How could he have let that so carelessly slip?
“You’re hearing things,” Till leans in close to kiss him, tugging his hair the way that he likes. Then, he straddles the other boy, positioning himself in a way that makes the most of the friction with the deliberate slow roll of his hips.
Ivan swallows thickly, his own hand fiddling with the hem of Till’s blue sweater, pupils dilated, mouth slightly open as he breathes heavily. “You’re distracting me.”
“Maybe,” he says under his breath, grinding against Ivan again. “Is it working?”
The singer twists his fingers into silver strands of hair before it rests just over Till’s nape, pushing him closer to Ivan. The raven wastes no time slipping his tongue into the other’s mouth, and the gray-haired boy lets out a soft groan as Ivan takes the opportunity to swap their positions so Till is caged beneath him.
Ivan trails kisses from Till's throat all the way up to his ear, and he whispers, “I won’t forget, you know?”
Till attempts to hide his reddened cheeks by turning himself around, both hands flat against the fancy hotel sheets. The bed slightly dips with Ivan’s weight behind him, and the other boy starts to slip his clothes off.
“We’ll just have to see about that, won’t we?” He tries to say confidently, but it comes out just as unsure as he actually feels.
In the end, it doesn't matter. He'll be gone by the time Ivan wakes up tomorrow anyway, and if luck is on his side, hopefully the other boy won't even remember.
***
When Till wakes the next morning, he yawns as he idly reaches for his glasses and puts them on.
Fully running on autopilot, he checks his phone and skims through his notifications, a few still left unread from yesterday.
[3:12 PM] Acorn: Luka mentioned to make sure to get to the set by 5:45 PM for the interview.
[3:28 PM] Acorn: Till?
[4:00 PM] Acorn: You alive? Do you need me to come get you?
[4:05 PM] Acorn: Till… don’t tell me…
[4:08 PM] Acorn: You can't pull this again. Come on.
[4:15 PM] Acorn: Till, please. Luka is going to explode.
[4:20 PM] Acorn: why do i bother
[5:41 PM] Acorn: oh my god i'm going to lose my job
[5:43 PM] Sua: Enjoy the show! (You owe me one)
[4:20 PM] Luka: Where are you?
[4:20 PM] Luka: Till.
3 missed calls from Luka
[5:05 PM] Luka: Did you just hang up on me.
[5:06 PM] Luka: We’ll talk about this later.
12 missed calls from Luka
[8:24 PM] Luka: [blacksorrowconcert.jpeg] Come to my office when you get on set tomorrow :)
[6:05 AM] New post from @DailyBlackSorrow
“Have I ever told you that you look hot in your glasses?”
Till nearly drops his phone, tired teal eyes scowling at the other boy for his sudden interruption.
The bastard shows no sign of remorse, his unfairly pretty smirk ever present. He’s lying on his side, propping the weight of his head with the palm of his left hand as he continues to look at him as if in silent expectation.
“You’re up early,” the actor mumbles, locking his screen before he slides his phone back on the side table. Despite being seemingly calm and collected on the outside, internally, Till is freaking the fuck out.
“An astute observation,” he teases, “But you see, a certain someone has the tendency to leave early, and I believe, I’ve been promised a conversation.”
He gets up to leave immediately. “You see,” he mimics, “Not all of us get to work nights. I’m afraid your certain someone needs to leave for work soon.”
Ivan sits up and gives him an expectant look, chuckling quietly as if he has it all figured out. A hand is around his wrist to coax him back to bed. Ivan pulls gently, and Till feels his resolve immediately waver. “Then I’m afraid you’d be lying. It’s early, filming doesn’t start until ten, and the studio is a nineteen minute drive from here at peak traffic.”
And okay, maybe he does have it all figured out.
He blinks. “Seriously, do you have my whole fucking schedule on your calendar–”
The other boy’s grin does not help his case. “Just the important ones. Acorn is surprisingly easy to convince, did you know?”
“Unbelievable,” Till huffs, stealing his arm back from Ivan’s grip and scooting over to the edge of the bed.
The room descends into a comfortable silence – not the awkward kind, thankfully, but that’s just how it’s always been with Ivan. Hours tend to feel like minutes and minutes are seconds. It’s a good thing and a bad thing, Till thinks, because while it means that he enjoys all the time that he spends with the raven, it also fills him with a sense of something akin to urgency that he can’t explain.
It’s accompanied by the slightest tinge of… guilt? Regret, even? Till’s not sure, but it feels almost as if they’re running out of time, and this irrational phantom urgency reminds him that he needs to make the most out of it.
He’s older now, and he hopes he can live the rest of his life without regrets, but these grandiose promises are always easier said than done, and whether he'll actually act on it is the next question.
“So…” Ivan dares to close their distance, the pads of his fingers skating smoothly over Till’s pale skin.
“So?”
“About what you said last night–”
“Fine,” Till says quickly. "Let's talk about it."
It’s partially because he didn’t really need Ivan to elaborate on his careless slip up, but at the same time, it holds him accountable, and it's not like he can take it back even if he wants to. He doubts Ivan will let him get away with it a second time, and deep down, it comes from the part of him that’s been desperately wanting to get the confession off his chest anyway.
Because despite the fear, Till wants him to know.
There's a chance that he could lose Ivan, and what then?
No more staying up later than usual because of timezones when Ivan is touring, and he can finally get proper rest, maybe even get rid of the growing dark circles under his eyes.
No more annoying rockstars showing up unannounced during filming days, and he can actually focus, his work uninterrupted.
No more seemingly unending notifications coming from the other boy, no more of the specific ringtone ringing in the air for the one he has set just for the singer.
It only rids him of problems, really, but then it also means no more Ivan, and Till doesn’t... like that.
The boy has carved his way into Till’s life, his routine, and now the actor can’t even imagine his life without him. Every single day has always been so mundane before him, and perhaps he’s grown just a little bit addicted to the thrill, so used to the comfort that he now brings.
The truth comes down to something far simpler. After Ivan, nothing has ever been the same, and he doesn't want to go back to the way it was before. He finds no need to remember.
So… this.
This is probably the greatest risk of them all.
It’s now or never, and he can almost hear it in Sua’s voice after seeking advice for the umpteenth time. Till can vividly remember his co-star lecturing him about taking all the chances while he still can, bitterly recalling one time that she brought up an unwelcome scenario if Till doesn't do anything soon—Ivan getting the wrong idea, breaking up with Till or whatever the equivalent is for whatever this is that they have going on, and finding someone else who isn't as scared shitless over the concept of confessing.
Suffice to say, the rest of that day ended with Till re-taking the exact same scene, much to the whole crew’s quiet echoes of frustrated complaints and groans. Not counting the inevitable hiccups from when he first started acting, it was easily the worst day of his career.
Three words.
It's just three words, he reminds himself to make it seem less scary.
He breathes in deeply, then he takes his time letting the air out, all while Ivan waits patiently.
There is the tiniest sliver of a second where he considers backing out, but he wills himself to finish what he started.
Ivan should know.
Ivan deserves to know.
This is a risk, Till reminds himself. Risks are terrifying and unpredictable and sometimes cruel, but the result can be rewarding and kind too.
Even if a positive outcome is not guaranteed, in the end, surely it would be worse to idly stand by and do nothing... right?
Till has always played it safe, but maybe it’s time for him to take a leap of faith and listen to what his heart wants him to do.
“I love you,” Till says quietly.
Then what comes immediately after is Ivan’s silence.
It’s not something that Till is used to, and as characteristic of the raven, what Till expected was a quick remark, a witty retort, maybe even a teasing smile.
But… nothing.
Just nothing.
It kind of seems like he’s trying to process the words and work out whether they’re real or not.
That, or he’s trying to figure out a nice way to let Till down. Find a way to gently remind Till that this isn’t what this whole arrangement is about, and turn his biggest fear into a reality.
The gray-haired boy clears his throat nervously, bright teal eyes wavering with equal parts fear and relief, avoiding the other boy’s intense gaze. It’s too much but also too little, and he finds himself stuck in place, wondering what he should do next, or whether he should say something.
He probably should.
Reluctantly, he starts with the obvious. “If you want to end this, then–”
Till’s heart has never been so loud. The beats are steady and rhythmic, but hard and fast at the same time. He entertains about half a million thoughts that cross his mind, so unsure of where they stand now that he has to go and make things more difficult.
Why did he have to say it?
Why did he have to ruin what was supposedly fine?
The damage is done, and it’s too late to turn back now, too complicated to pretend that none of this ever happened–
“Since when?”
He blinks. The question catches him off guard, and he lets a few seconds tick by as he thinks about it for a moment.
“I don’t…” he swallows hard. “I don’t know, honestly. I just woke up one day and realized how much I like being with you,” he clears his throat a second time, and he briefly looks up at Ivan, his train of thought immediately derailing because Ivan’s looking at him with so much softness. “And that I wouldn’t mind if… you were around more often. I’ve never felt like this with anyone before, I’m sorry I–” Till stammers. “I’m still trying to figure it out, but what I do know is that this,” he intertwines their hands together before sighing softly, “This feels right.”
“Can you be any more perfect?” he says quietly, kissing the top of his head. Ivan leans in closer, and Till basks in the warmth of his bare skin against his. “I love you too, Till.”
Teal eyes widen. “You–”
“I’ve known for a while,” he admits. “But I figured it might be moving too fast. I didn’t know if that was what you wanted, and I didn’t want to scare you away–”
“As if there’s anything you could do to scare me away,” Till says with a low breathy chuckle. He says it like it’s obvious, and in a way, it really is. “You’re an idiot.”
The singer exhales longingly. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”
“Could have started by just… saying it, y’know,” Till mumbles, trying not to lose the smallest semblance of sanity he has left as Ivan rubs slow circles on his hand and presses a chaste kiss on his shoulder. His warm lips linger, and if it weren't for Till needing to be on set in a few hours, then he would have asked for them to stay like this all day.
“It’s not like you did either,” he retorts.
“As a matter of fact, I did, and that’s why we’re having this conversation, aren’t we?”
Ivan raises an eyebrow. “You made it seem like it was an accident.”
“Yes, well, I mean,” the older boy looks away, and his voice is quieter. “It was. But it doesn’t make it any less true. It doesn’t matter now, though, don’t you think?”
“That, I can definitely agree with.” He grins. “Though I suppose this brings us to our next order of business.”
Till angles his head slightly. “And that is?”
“Be my boyfriend?” Ivan asks again. He says it in a teasing kind of way, but Till knows it's a serious question.
Till turns to face him. Eyes stern, electric teal sinks deeply into delicate swirls of black and crimson. “Ivan, are you sure? This… isn’t something we can easily take back.”
“I know.” The other boy doesn’t waver, smiling softly as he cups Till’s cheeks delicately. He’s shaking, Till realizes, but only ever so slightly. If he wasn’t paying such close attention, he could have easily missed it.
Till touches the other's trembling hand gently. "I'm scared too," he admits.
"I don't... want to get this wrong," Ivan swallows.
"Neither do I," the actor sighs. "This. Us. Is it really what you want?"
“All throughout my whole life, I’ve always been told what I should want.” Ivan tucks stray hair behind Till’s ear, and the actor leans into his touch. "I'm tired of being dictated what I want to do. Just this once, I want to choose, Till, and I want to choose you.”
“You’ve always had a choice,” he reminds him, but he trails off into a blushing mess as he processes the rest of Ivan’s words. “If… If you promise you’re fine with it, then… yes.”
Ivan excitedly leans in close to kiss him, the gravity of his weight pushing him so he's lying back down. “So happy. You’ve made me the happiest person on Earth. You have no idea.” He’s breathless as he speaks in between kisses.
Absentmindedly playing with soft jet black strands, Till keeps him close, foreheads gently resting against each other. The corner of his mouth quirks up into a smile. “Ready to break social media?”
“PR is going to have a field day,” Ivan chuckles, reaching for his own phone. He opens the camera app and holds it up in front of them so it’s at a slight angle. Just as he takes the shot, he leans in close to kiss the actor’s cheek, smiling at the photo like a fool in love before he launches Twitter.
Then of course, by the time Till reposts the rockstar's tweet, the numbers have unsurprisingly skyrocketed into the thousands.
Ivan @OFFICIAL_IVAN • 4m
so, we have an announcement @Till.The.End
[There is a selfie posted with Till in the forefront of the image, cheeks slightly red as Ivan’s kiss surprises him]
218 Reposts • 89 Quotes • 2.3k Likes
Till @Till.The.End • 30s
warn me next time will ya
0 Reposts • 0 Quotes • 0 Likes
“Luka’s calling,” Ivan mumbles as he kisses the outline of Till’s back, then up to his neck. It’s followed by a playful bite before his tongue laps over it, making the older boy groan softly.
“I’ll deal with him later. In the meantime,” Till flips his phone the other way, and he turns around, holding Ivan’s face, “You’re insatiable.”
“We have time,” the rockstar pouts. It reminds Till of an overgrown puppy. “And I’ve missed you. It’s been too long.”
“It’s been, what,” he blinks, “3 days? Not to mention last night we—”
“Like I said,” Ivan says as his fingers drift dangerously lower, “Too long. And this leg of the tour is over soon before I have to fly out again. Forgive me if I want to monopolize my boyfriend’s time.”
Knowing that he is not able to deny Ivan anything, Till shakes his head playfully as he pulls him close and kisses him deeper.
Boyfriend, huh?
Till really likes the sound of that.