Archive of Our Own

There is a myth about actors and idols that they're always getting laid every night with a different person, a sea of opportunity in front of them that it's impossible to have a dry spell. Maybe that is true to an extent; Till has certainly seen his peers in the acting industry who are quite literally incapable of keeping it in their pants, with more notches on their belt than could ever be countable.

This is not the reality that Till lives in, however.

Even at his tender age of thirty-five, he hasn't really had a whole lot of sex. Not a virgin, no, but saying he's experienced would still be a generous overstatement. He's just busy and focused on other things, his career taking the number one priority in his life, while everything else takes a backseat. Hedonistic pleasures like sex are things he indulges in because of a combination of factors land on his lap together at the same time, so he gives into it. He has to be in a good enough mood, the right level of drunk, and a pretty girl has to ask him just sweetly enough for him to feel too awkward to let her down easy.

Usually, these factors are incredibly rare for Till to achieve in combination. His mood is almost never good because he's chronically depressed—such a cliche, yes—so he tends to oscillate between lackadaisical boredom with life and a hopeless outlook on his life. His alcohol tolerance is sky high, only ever tipsy at best because he gets too bored from drinking before he ever gets to the drunk stage. And, well, pretty girls don't often ask him out for reasons that are unfathomable to him. Acorn says he's too unapproachable; Marty says he looks like a bottom who doesn't know how to give it, whatever that means.

And whenever he does get down to do the deed, it feels like a chore to him. He never knows where to put his hands, the motion of his hips awkward and stilted, and putting on a condom feels like a ritual of self-humiliation. Self-conscious about making whoever he's with feel good that it makes him stressed, because he knows that his performance in the bedroom will most definitely be relayed to a whole group of people whether he likes it or not. 'Did you know that the actor, Till, is a shitty lay in bed? Yeah, I was shocked, too.' Such is the life for famous people like him, nothing he ever does is truly ever private, just a matter of how widespread that information is.

Sex is just a hassle to him, so Till would just masturbate on his own more often than not if he ever felt pent up enough for release. But even then, he didn't get off too often because he's reached a certain age where it feels pathetic to jerk off on his own to porn while his friends his age now have three kids and a dog.

All this to say that Till's general distaste for sex is most probably why it took him much too long to realize that his dick wasn't working properly.

Till realizes there's an issue when he's at an after party for an awards event, pleasantly buzzed because he can't stop drinking all the champagne that's been handed to him, and a pretty idol maybe five or six years his junior, bats her long lashes at him. She's pretty, long dark hair and a nice figure, and she seems interested in him if the way her hand lingers on his shoulder. He's not particularly interested but also sees no reason to say no either, so he goes for it, praising himself on his acting skills that he doesn't stutter as he tells her his hotel room number.

Everything was playing out the way that it should. Kissing, Till taking off her dress, admiring her chest, her hand going down the waistband of his pants. But then nothing happens. She makes a small sound of confusion as she wraps her hand around his flaccid dick, and Till is confused, too. He may not be the biggest fan of sex, but his dick is usually up for the task. He stares at his dick, feeling betrayed by it, willing it to get up right now.

"Just give me a minute." Till laughs awkwardly, face burning in mortification. "I'm just a bit drunk."

He's not drunk, has already sobered up by now, but she doesn't need to know that.

She smiles at him understandingly, even gets on her knees for him, but it still doesn't work. Till doesn't get hard, and the poor girl looks so painfully awkward, even apologizes to him that she couldn't satisfy him and he has to reassure her that it's not her fault and that she didn't do anything wrong, that she truly was amazing. It was such a strange conversation to have, to reassure a girl he hardly knows—he honestly doesn't even remember her name which makes him feel even worse—that he's the problem, not her.

They part ways on amicable, yet extremely awkward terms, and he hopes that the whole industry doesn't find out by the morning that renowned actor, Till, can't get his dick up. Fortunately for him, no rumors spread, so he considers himself lucky.

The problem is that it happens again.

Till, now curious to know if this is a fluke or an actual problem, hires an escort from an expensive app that's known for its discretion and confidentiality. The escort is a beautiful woman with short hair and a voluptuous body, the kind of woman that would make any guy immediately develop heart eyes for her. But he still can't get it up, no matter how hard both of them try, so Till pulls away from her and leaves her a handsome tip for her efforts.

"Don't worry too much about it, hun," the escort tells him, "erectile dysfunction happens to a lot of men. You're not my first client to have that problem."

Erectile dysfunction.

"Thanks." Till swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. "But that's not me. I'm just—in a mood."

The escort gives him an unimpressed look that she doesn't really believe him, but he's no longer paying her any attention. Her words make Till shudder, shaking them off him like they're dirty. Erectile dysfunction is for older dudes who need to pop a pill to make their dick work. Till is not in that category. He's only thirty-five for fucks sake.

Stubborn now about making his dick work to disprove that theory, Till tries masturbation.

But that doesn't work either. No matter how many times Till runs his hand over his dick, it remains limp and lifeless, pathetic just like him. Even with his favorite porn video playing, his dick refuses to respond. Desperate, he buys a fleshlight with a ton of five star reviews on Amazon that guarantee he will have the best nut of his life using it, but his dick seems equally uninterested in that, too.

Fuck. Maybe his dick really is broken.

It takes Till another few weeks to muster the courage to book an appointment to go see a urologist. Booking an appointment made his reality feel concrete, one he couldn't escape from, but he also knew that he doesn't want his dick to be broken forever. He needs it to be fixed.

The doctor looks professional, wears glasses like Till does, so there's an immediate kinship between them. He doesn't seem to recognize him either, which is a bonus.

"Everything you share with me here will be strictly confidential," Dr. Kim tells him. "What brings you here today, Till?"

The promise of confidentiality admittedly helps Till relax immediately, his stiff shoulders slackening as he shifts from Till, the famous actor, to Till, the anxious thirty-five year old guy who is paranoid he will never be able to use his dick again.

Yeah, sure, he didn't like sex all that much, but he'd at least like to have the option of whether he gets to participate in it or not.

"I—I can't get it up." Till's face burns, feels the mortification spread like a wildfire from his face to his neck, the tips of his ears, even his collarbones. This is so embarrassing to admit aloud. "I think I might have ere—ED."

"You don't have to be embarrassed, Till, erectile dysfunction is a perfectly normal thing for men your age." Ouch. Till rubs his chest, trying not to feel like a senior citizen with one foot in the grave. "Is your issue pertained to a delay in achieving an erection or maintaining it during sexual intercourse?"

Despite the doctor assuring him that he doesn't need to be embarrassed, Till wants a hole to open in the ground and swallow him when he hears words like 'erection', 'erectile dysfunction' and 'sexual intercourse' being used unironically to describe whatever is wrong with him. He takes a deep breath to center himself, the same way he does before he's about to start a big climactic scene in one of his dramas, and braces himself.

"No, like, I can't get it up at all." Till gnaws at his bottom lip. "Is that normal?"

The doctor types on his computer, doesn't immediately respond, before he eventually nods.

"Often times, the reasons behind erectile dysfunction is psychological, but it can also be physiological, so we would still have to run some tests to make sure that everything is alright. There are also medications you can take that can help." He smiles at Till, poised and calm in a way that can only come from years of experience. "Don't worry, Till, hopefully this will be resolved soon."

For the first time in months, Till has hope that his little problem just might be fixed.

Till gets diagnosed officially with erectile dysfunction and it's more than a little humiliating.

They run the tests, and there's nothing wrong with him, at least not physically—his hormone levels are fine and his body is in good shape. He's perfectly healthy, which is great, but there's no clinical reason for why Till's dick has decided to stop working permanently. The medicine doesn't help either, only makes him feel woozy and a little hot under the skin, his dick a bit twitchy, but that's it.

It's been three months since Till discovered his ED, and maybe a year since he last got off, so he's on the verge of tears now.

Dr. Kim says that he's too into his own head about it, too worried about his performance, about not being able to get hard again, so that's why he's failing to get an erection. It makes sense on a logical level, but it does nothing to help his situation either.

After another four weeks of trial and error, Till reluctantly accepts the reality of his situation. He's just going to be celibate for the rest of his life.

This is okay, he decides. Sex has always been massively overrated anyway. He's never cared for dating and relationships; it wasn't a feasible option for him as a high profile actor anyway. Sex is another caveat that he can make do without just fine.

Time passes by, life goes on, and Till gets used to being the guy with ED.

His ED doesn't affect his performance, not visibly anyway even if he's a bit more stressed than usual with no outlet for release, so he keeps on taking acting gigs liberally. Most recently, he got booked for an indie show called 'Alien Stage', which seems promising. Typically, he wouldn't go for this kind of role as a high profile actor, and acting a twenty-one year old when he's actually thirty-five himself feels somewhat questionable, but the concept is interesting. The script is also primarily told through music, which sounds cheesy on principle, but flipping through the lyrics and the songs his character is going to sing, he jives with it.

He's also selfishly into the idea of a project that will let him sing and perform again, something he hasn't had the chance to do since his short-lived stint as an idol ended and shifted into acting instead. He's, of course, blessed to be such a famous actor, but he still misses singing a lot. This production would be a great excuse to get back into it again.

The fact that the production is also queer is of little consequence to Till. He may not be gay himself, but he's not so close minded that he can't play the part of someone in love with another man, nor would he be repulsed by kissing another man. Well, in theory anyway. He's never given too much thought to kissing men before, but he supposes if his co-actor is attractive enough, it should be fine.

Acting is just a job to him. He can do most roles without batting an eye. If he's acted the role of a homicidal serial killer before, killing innocent people in the most grotesque ways conceivable, then he can certainly kiss another guy without much difficulty.

Things are starting to look up for him.

Till's co-actors are all way younger than him, most of them are around ten to fifteen years his junior, which is a humbling experience. This is also their first foray into acting in large part, so they tend to stare at him with stars in their eyes, so unused to being around an actor who they've actually seen on the screen before. Mizi rattles off facts about his previous roles like she's on an episode of jeopardy, but all the questions are pertaining to his career. Luka asks him for acting tips and if he has any contacts that could hook him up with a bigger role in a K-drama. It's awkward to be treated with such reverence, and while Till is used to it because it comes with the territory of being a celebrity, he finds himself spending more time in his trailer to avoid their prying eyes on him whenever they're not actively on set.

But Till can't pretend that they aren't all incredibly talented, however, despite their inexperience. He thinks that if the upcoming generation have acting chops like this, then the future of cinema in Korea is bright.

Things with Till's direct co-actor, Ivan, are strained, though.

Ivan, Till's counterpart in 'Alien Stage', is a fresh-faced idol who just debuted a year prior and this is his first acting stint, likely because he's the visual of his group. Ivan is the man who is deeply in love with his character, and ultimately sacrifices himself in an act of selfless, yet selfish love for him.

On the stage, he's standoffish, difficult to understand, but so clearly in love with him. In real life, he's the total opposite. Shy, clumsy, blushy. Whenever Till directs any remark towards him, in the most casual of tones, he immediately shutters and all but melts into a pool onto the floor. It's somewhat endearing, but it's not conducive to a very fruitful conversation. Ivan also has a tendency to stand behind corners and stare holes into the side of Till's head when he thinks that he can't see him. Till doesn't mind it, though, finds his shyness endearing.

One day, as the director's way of getting all the actors to bond with each other and break the ice between them so they can have better chemistry on camera, they play a game of Toss the Ball. They have a nondescript red ball which Till strongly assumes to be the director's personal stress toy, and each person takes a turn tossing it to another one of their co-stars, and they have to answer a specific question. The director, Vivinos, assures them that this is a great way for them to all get to know each other better.

The questions start out innocuously enough.

Mizi tosses the ball to Hyuna, asking her where she gets her nails done because they are always so nicely manicured. Hyuna answers her brightly, telling her the name of the salon, offering for them to go together as girl bonding time. Luka tosses the ball to Sua, asking her about her experience being a child actress and whether she felt that gave her a leg up in the industry or hindered her because of the image she carries with her since childhood. She told him that it gave her invaluable experience, but roles are often harder to come by as a result. Till can unfortunately relate to that, starting out as a child actor himself. Every time the ball is tossed his way, someone asks him about a former role of his, whether he liked acting the protagonist or the villain more, if he has any advice on making it in the industry besides 'just being themselves'. He tries to answer to the best of his ability as the only veteran on a production full of rookies.

Till finds that he's having fun, nonetheless.

Then the questions start to devolve after that.

Mizi tosses the ball to Sua and asks her if she has a boyfriend, to which Sua shakes her head. Luka asks Hyuna if she would ever consider dating a guy shorter than her, to which she snorts and says no, and it's hard not to miss the crestfallen look of dismay on his pretty face. Hyuna even asks Ivan if he's a virgin or not because she heard that idols weren't allowed to date or sleep around, and Ivan chooses to pass his question onto the next person, his face unreadable. Till studies his features, trying to find a hint that sways his answer in either the affirmative or the negative, but Ivan remains as difficult to read as he is on set. For some reason, that frustrates him.

Then the ball falls on Till's lap, and he makes the impromptu decision to toss the ball towards Ivan. He barely knows his co-star and this is as good a choice as any to get to know him a little better.

"What prompted you to become an idol?" He asks him. "And as an idol, what pushed you to give acting a try so early on in your career?"

It might be a boring question considering the current trend of questions being asked, but Till is genuinely curious to hear the answer. Ivan is quite talented, which is a term he doesn't dole out easily, and he wonders what kind of background that would have molded a guy like him. He's young, too, and doesn't seem to have any proper acting training which makes his case all the more peculiar.

Ivan considers his answer, squeezing the ball in his hand until it starts to pop between his clenched fingers.

"I didn't want to become an idol in particular, but I wanted to break into the entertainment industry, and the opportunity presented itself when an agent approached me because of my looks, so I took it." Ivan steeples his fingers together. "I was lucky that my performance as an idol opened the door to landing me this role on 'Alien Stage'."

A diplomatic answer, the rehearsed kind given at interviews to placate the interviewer and the fans at home. But it's also not good enough for Till, who is searching for something more meaningful, so he levels him with a follow-up question even though his turn is technically over.

"And why did you want to break into the entertainment industry? Why did you choose stardom over anything else like becoming, I don't know, a doctor or an astronaut?"

The others look between Till and Ivan with interest, curiosity etched on their features. Ivan ignores their searching gazes, his attention fixed on Till.

"There was an actor I always looked up to. I watched every movie and show and commercial he ever appeared in." Ivan smiles, his snaggletooth appearing as he does. "I hoped to meet him someday. I wanted to become someone who could stand on the same playing ground as him, someone memorable, the same way he is to me. I couldn't have done that as a doctor or an astronaut."

Till sucks in a deep breath. "And who is that actor?"

Ivan's smile only grows wider, a teasing glint in his eyes as he shrugs.

"Who knows?" He tosses the ball to Luka—swiftly ending the conversation as he does—asking him whether he ever considered doing a surgery to get taller to which he gets the ball aimed directly at his head. Ivan's laugh is melodic, but also incredibly fake.

Till thinks about that conversation for a long time afterwards, wondering what kind of actor who is that amazing that Ivan would do all that just to meet him, but never musters up the courage to ask.

Things take a turn into uncharted territory when it's finally time for the fated round 6.

It's one of Ivan's last major scenes in the stage, it's the round where Ivan dies tragically to save his lover, the ultimate sacrifice, especially for a love he believes to never be reciprocated. Till knows how to compartmentalize when acting, but something about singing on a stage with Ivan, harmonizing the tragic lines of 'Cure' with him has him feeling a certain type of way. His lines blurring and his heart beating in disarray.

When he acts with Ivan on the stage, with all his boundless charisma and natural talent for acting, he feels as if they might actually be lovers. He could see an alternate reality where Ivan could love him as deeply as the lyrics of their song conveys. He could see another timeline where his character loved him just as much.

Perhaps that's why he started noticing Ivan's attractiveness as well.

He's always known him to be attractive, incredibly so. His label as his group's visual is certainly earned, Till thinks. Flawless, porcelain skin. Dark hair that falls into his eyes, offering that dreamy look that would make any girl swoon. Long lashes, dark eyes, a snaggletooth which should be a flaw but only looks endearing on him. Tall, good muscular build. Looks aside, he's also a good actor, extremely so, though that easy competence from an amateur actor does seem to accentuate his attractiveness in Till's eyes.

Till feels like a bit of a cradle robber noticing these things about an actor who is roughly fifteen years his junior, but even if he's straight, he's not blind. It's also hard not to notice these things when there are so many cuts of the same scene they shot together with Ivan's hands caressing his cheeks, staring at him with so much intensity that the line demarcating reality and make-believe starts to get befuddled, kissing so many times that it leaves Till breathless.

Till hadn't been apprehensive about kissing another man for the role, thought that it would be no different than kissing women for his previous roles in K-dramas. He's kissed so many people while the cameras were rolling that it had long since lost its flavor, felt like nothing more than lips touching each other. But kissing Ivan is different.

It's just for a role, he tells himself, but Ivan kisses him so fervently. He's not even a particularly good kisser, his kisses too clumsy and he doesn't know how to angle his head the right way, and he keeps freezing up so they have to do the same shot again and again. Till has lost count of how many times Ivan has kissed him by now, but each time he does, it has him feeling a certain type of way.

He kisses Till, not waiting for Till to take the lead, but rather, forcing him to follow his tandem. He kisses Till with each successive take with such desperation like it's the last time he'll ever kiss him, that he needs to savor it while it lasts. He holds onto his shoulders until they start to bruise, kisses him until Till's lips hurt and he feels his lungs start to ache because he can't breathe.

"Are you okay, Till-sunbae?" Ivan asks him breathlessly after the scene cuts, his tongue licking his bottom lip, slick with Till's own spit. Till is not watching the motion with rapt attention. "Your face is red. Are you feeling feverish?"

"I'm just peachy." Till extricates himself from Ivan's embrace, which absolutely shouldn't extend to after the clapperboard resounded the scene as complete. "I just need to take a break in my trailer."

"Do you need water—"

"I'm fine." Till waves him off. "I'll see you tomorrow."

He collapses in his trailer chair, burying his face in his hands, and his skin is burning hot to the touch.

Till should hate it. He should hate that he's being kissed so aggressively by another man, so much younger than him, but he doesn't. Instead, every time Ivan kisses him like that, he feels a stir in his stomach. It's a familiar stir, warmth pooling in the base of his stomach. Hell, it's still there, the memory of Ivan kissing him so many times etched behind his eyelids. Something akin to arousal, but a quick glance at his crotch, declares him not quite there yet.

A blessing he supposes, because he would have killed himself if he had gotten hard on set because of a kiss scene with another man.

Nonetheless, it's the closest Till has gotten to feeling any kind of attraction towards anyone in the year and a half since his diagnosis with ED, and he can't believe it's his baby co-actor drawing that feeling out of him. If it's going to be like this, Till feels like he'd rather keep his ED. It's so cursed and Till has to wonder if the whole universe is conspiring against him.

As the 'Alien Stage' project ambles on, Till's relationship with his co-stars improves. Less stilted, more natural. Less like a sunbae with his hoobaes, and more like actual colleagues. Friends even, if he wants to be generous with the word.

Till hardly doubts that he'd stay in contact with anyone from this production after the series wraps up, but whenever Mizi declares that they will always meet up for drinks and fried chicken every week, he doesn't have the heart to tell her how extremely unrealistic that goal is. He doesn't have anything against any of them, of course, but such is the fleeting nature of work-based relationships, especially in the entertainment industry. Actors like them are too busy to keep up any friendships because of their wacky schedules, let alone with people they acted with on an old project.

But Till finds drinking with them to be fun, doesn't mind it, though their tolerance is much lower than his own. Luka gets so funny when he's drunk and it's entertaining to watch Mizi try so hard to flirt with Sua whenever she's inebriated. Hyuna has a tendency to break out in song whenever she's drunk, too, which Till can't even find annoying when her vocals are insanely good.

Drunk Ivan, however, is the clingy type. With Till specifically. He drapes his body all over Till, no longer the shy puppy he is around him on set, placing his head on his shoulder and placing his hand on his thigh. Those fleeting touches are no good for Till's health, though, his stomach swooping every time Ivan digs his nose in the crook of his neck or his fingers brush against his bare hip where his shirt had ridden up.

He also refused to leave Till alone, even after everyone else went home, insisting on staying a bit longer despite Till being tired and too old to stay up drinking past midnight now.

"I like you sooooooo much, Till-sunbae," Ivan tells him, draping himself all over him. His breath sounds like alcohol, his face flushed. He's clearly drunk off his ass right now, but Till can't help but find him endearing, nonetheless. "Do you like me, too?"

Till chuckles, patting his head. "Yeah, I like you, Ivan."

"No way you like me as much as I like you, though."

"Perhaps not." Till drums his fingers against the table. "Is there a particular reason why you like me so much?"

"'Cause you're you. Amazing actor, super talented singer, so attractive." Ivan nods to himself, listing off all of Till's attributes on his fingers. "You're also kind, and you take care of others. You're patient and you listen to people instead of talking at them. You're so cool, too. Too cool. Scary cool. What's not to like?"

Till flushes, his cheeks warming for reasons completely unrelated to the alcohol, not quite expecting Ivan to pull out a whole list for him. He knows better than to take the words of a drunk man at face value, but he has the feeling that Ivan is being sincere, which is somehow worse. He coughs into his hand, trying to cover up his own embarrassment.

"Thank you, Ivan."

"Mhm. Till-sunbae, you'll never leave me, right?" Ivan says, resting his chin on his shoulder, his face so close to Till's that if he were to turn his head just a little they'd end up accidentally kissing. "You'll text me every day after Alien Stage ends, right?"

Fuck, Till really needs to get laid so he can stop focusing so much on these stupid little things Ivan does, but he still can't get hard so he's just fucked.

"Sure." Till takes a sip of his soju, not even halfway buzzed. Till knows better than to seriously contend with a drunk person, so it's best to just humor them.

"And you'll hang out with me?" Ivan wraps his hands around Till's middle. "Just like right now?"

"Of course." Till nods.

Ivan nuzzles Till's throat, breathes a hot puff of air directly against his ear. A shiver runs down his spine, molten hot warmth pooling in the base of Till's stomach, knots twisting and untwisting uncontrollably.

"If you work on another project after this, with some other handsome guy, will I still be your favorite hoobae?" Ivan whispers in Till's ear, his voice so low that goosebumps erupt all over Till's skin. "You wouldn't replace me with some other guy, right?"

Do all straight guys his age talk to their colleagues this way? Till wouldn't know, but he certainly never talked to anyone like this nor has anyone talked to him that way before, but it doesn't feel very straight or platonic in nature. Till should shove Ivan off him, ask him where he got the impression that he's his favorite in the first place. They hardly know each other at all in the first place. But he can't bring himself to do so because when he looks down, he notes that there's a tent in his pants.

He's hard. For the first time in over a year and a half, Till is actually hard, and it's because of some guy fifteen years his junior. And said guy his hand on his thigh, so close to his cock. It's been so long since he's been touched, by himself let alone by anyone else, that Till almost weeps at the touch. This guy is also his co-actor and doing anything with him would be the epitome of unprofessionalism. Oh, and there's the fact that Till is straight, so this shouldn't be happening at all.

He needs to abort this right now before they cross the point of no return.

"Totally"—Till extricates himself from Ivan's grasp, ignoring the hurt look on his face with some difficulty—"I'm really tired, Ivan, I think you should go home. Or you can stay over and take my guest room if you're too drunk to get home safely."

Ivan preens. "Really? I can stay the night?"

"Sure." Till waves at him dismissively, already on his way to his bedroom. "Goodnight, Ivan."

Till slams the door shut behind him, hand already sinking past the waistband of his sweatpants to pull out his cock, tears springing to his eyes when he holds it in the palm of his hand. It's so achingly hard, flushed red, the tip beading with pre-cum. He absolutely shouldn't touch himself to the thought of his junior, but he also hasn't had a functional dick for a year and a half, and his resolve is too weak to ignore the call of temptation.

He sinks his teeth into his bottom lip to stem any moans from falling out, dragging his hand over his cock, and it feels so much better than he remembers. He's missed this so, so much. Did jerking off always feel this good? He doubts it. Perhaps absence made his dick fonder. Till hums, throwing his head back against the door as his hand runs over his cock, fast, hard, chasing his own climax.

His eyes fall shut, and when they do, he sees Ivan. Ivan in that white suit from round 6, his shirt plastered to his skin because of how many times they kissed in the rain, caging him as he kissed him for the umpteenth time. Ivan's large body pressed against his own, his nose pressed against his pulse, his breath against his ear. Those pretty lips wrapped around his cock instead of his hand, taking him so nicely until tears well in those pretty dark eyes—

"Mm, fuck," Till moans, "Ivan."

It's so wrong on so many levels, but it also feels so right. Perhaps the wrongness adds to the hotness.

Till jerks his hand over his cock just the way he always liked it since he was a teenager, dips his thumb into the slit of his cock, but his orgasm teeters in and out of sight. So close yet he can't quite attain it. He jerks himself faster, shutting his eyes tight, imagining Ivan's hand instead of his own. His lips instead of his hand. He wants to cum so bad. Why can't he cum? It's unfair. It's been so long—

"Till-sunbae?" Ivan asks him through the door. "Are you alright?"

Till's eyes roll back at hearing Ivan's voice through the door, saying his name so sweetly. He imagines him seeing him like this, with his hand over his cock, jerking himself off to the thought of him. What kind of face would he make? Would he blush? Would he be into it? Would he offer to help him finish? Maybe.

Till jerks himself off faster, harder, so desperate to cum. But his orgasm remains elusive. His wrist hurts, he doesn't know how long he's been doing this. He can't tip over the edge no matter how hard he tries; a desperate sob slipping from his lips.

"Till-sunbae?" Ivan repeats, his tone unreadable through the wooden door. "Let me in, please?"

Till's chest heaves, his hard cock starting to flag, but never once was he able to cum. He whines, disappointment flooding his chest. Ivan's voice is so sweet, so desperate as he calls his name. He should say something, but he's still breathless, still trying to recover from the adrenaline rush of getting hard after so long with the simultaneous disappointment that he couldn't even finish. He squeezes his eyes tightly shut, stars exploding behind his eyelids. Licking his bottom lip, Till nods once despite knowing Ivan can't see him.

"I'm great," Till grits out. "Thanks for checking on me. Night, Ivan."

A pause follows, long enough that Till wonders if Ivan had already left. Then, "Alright. Goodnight, Till-sunbae."

Till listens to the sound of Ivan's footsteps padding away, unsure if he just cured his own ED or if he only managed to make it worse, but only time will tell.

Naively, Till hoped that his dick would be fixed after managing an erection for the first time in however long, but that wasn't the case.

Yes, he can get hard now, yes, but climaxes are still impossible for him, which is driving him crazy. He thinks it's actually worse to be able to get hard but not being able to cum. He'll continue jerking off until his wrist starts to ache, his hand chafing against his cock, and his dick flags down on its own. It's as if he was a prisoner who got one glimpse of light, sat in front of a large banquet full of his favorite foods, before he was thrown back in the slammer again without being allowed to have a single bite. Yes, that's dramatic, but he's also losing his mind a little over this.

It's frankly quite depressing.

Vaguely, Till considers using the escort service again, but he decides that he doesn't hate himself enough to go through such a mortifying experience again. He also tries to jerk off while visualizing other men, but they do nothing for him, too.

Somehow, and he feels terrible admitting this, he can't even get hard unless he thinks about Ivan. Only he can manage to elicit that reaction from him. He's never been the type of guy to look at women much younger than him, but there's just something captivating about Ivan that lures him in, that makes his dick respond when it had been lifeless for the past two years.

He can still be straight even if he has an aesthetic appreciation for Ivan. This doesn't change anything. He's much too old to have a sexuality crisis right now.

It doesn't help that Ivan has been acting weird around him lately, too. Weirder than usual at any rate. Case in hand, the conversation they're having right now.

"Till-sunbae," Ivan greets him, a wide smile on his face. "Are you going home now? I can drive you."

"Yeah." Till cocks an eyebrow. "I'm not on your way home though."

"I don't mind!" Ivan nudges his shoulder against Till's. "I like having the chance to spend more time with my coolest sunbae."

"Okay." Till nods, seeing no issue with that. "I'll meet you outside in five."

"Can we grab drinks on our way home?" Ivan shoots him with the puppy dog eyes, which is hard to pull off considering how he's got a whole foot on Till, but he manages it somehow. "Please?"

Till is weak to puppy dog eyes, to Ivan, and can't bring himself to say no despite wanting to have an early start to his day tomorrow.

"Sure, why not?" Till shrugs. "It'll be my treat."

"I'm so excited!" Ivan preens. "See you, sunbae!"

Till stares at his retreating back dubiously, not quite sure why he's so excited about something so mundane as getting drinks or driving home together. That's just one example of how weird Ivan has been lately, too.

Excessively clingy, even more than usual. Every morning, he comes in bearing a piping hot cup of Americano coffee just for him. He no longer watches him from behind a wall, but rather perches directly on Till's chair or plasters himself directly over Till's body on the couch like an oversized golden retriever. Whenever they aren't actively acting together on set, he's always hanging out in Till's trailer, asking him all sorts of questions. Most recently, he's been insisting on driving Till home every day as if he's now appointed himself as his personal chauffeur.

There's also the deluge of compliments regarding his looks, his acting skills, his singing voice that leave Till a blushing mess because of how insistent he is about it. His dark eyes follow him everywhere; every time Till casts a glance in his direction, he finds Ivan's eyes already fixed on him, his face shifting from passive to a beaming, bright smile. He touches him a lot more; flicking an invisible piece of lint off his shoulder that he's positive hadn't been there in the first place, an arm thrown around his shoulder when they're walking from one location to another, a hand at the base of his back for no other reason than the fact that he can.

Till is starting to feel less like Ivan's senior and more like a girl that is being courted. He isn't so daft as to understand what this is, that Ivan clearly has some sort of crush on him. He's never been on the receiving end of a crush from another guy, let alone one so much younger than him, and maybe it should be off-putting, but it isn't. It's a disconcerting feeling, yes, one that Till should absolutely put a stop to, but he admittedly likes it too much to complain. He can't even recall anyone showing him the same level of care that Ivan does, and he'd be lying if he said that it doesn't feel nice to be the focal point of someone's attention like this. That might also be the reason why Ivan is able to affect his dick at all when nobody else can.

Ivan's puppy crush towards him is flattering, so sue him if he basks in it a little. He also likes hanging out with Ivan. A lot more than he ought to considering their age gap, but whatever.

Filming wraps up in another two weeks, he tells himself, there's no harm in indulging in a young, pretty boy's attention for a little while longer.

The final day of filming comes sooner than Till expected it would. He always knew it would come to an end, but when the day comes that the director yells her final 'CUT!', he feels like the clapperboard's resounding clap snaps him back into reality. He'd been suspended in this alternate reality with a cast so much younger than him, yet so sweet and kind, and he'd gotten somewhat attached to them all. It was also a great project, one with a lot of potential, and he can see it becoming the springing board for all his co-actors getting into bigger and better roles from hereon out.

But the ending feels bittersweet, nonetheless.

It's strange because Till has been present for the wrap up of countless projects before, this is not his first rodeo, and yet that moroseness still hits him as if it's his first film all over again. It reminds him of attending a play, getting so absorbed in everyone's performances for two hours, and then suddenly, the cast is bowing while the audience stands up in ovation, and Till is the only one still seated in the crowd, not quite ready to leave yet. Always wanting things to last a little bit longer.

He feels it more astutely than usual this time, too. Perhaps it's because of the way Mizi hugged each of them so tightly that they could hardly breathe with tears in her eyes, trying her best to smile, but failing to because she kept crying too hard. It could also be Sua handing each one of them a tailored farewell gift that she thinks that they'd like—she got Till a fancy bag of coffee beans which he greatly appreciated—her face so red as she gave each person their present. Maybe it's the fact that Luka wrote him a long letter thanking him for all his advice that he gave him on set, telling him that he's the best sunbae that he's worked with before, and that he's wishing him all the best; his words bringing a fresh wave of tears to Till's eyes. Possibly because Hyuna already made plans for all of them to meet up in two weeks for dinner and drinks, declaring that she absolutely refuses to let them drift apart because she's never worked with so many people she truly got along with like this before, and she really wants this to last beyond the stage.

Till casts a glance towards Ivan, who has barely spoken two words the entire final day of shooting, is sitting away from all the theatrical goodbyes in a secluded corner. There's a polite smile on his face as he watches the scene unfold, but he's difficult to read today, much like the character he plays within the series itself. He doesn't fully understand Ivan, not even after all these months they spent filming together, but he would really like to.

Before he can start hesitating, Till approaches him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

"It's nothing." Ivan shrugs.

"Come on, tell your hyung what's bothering you." Till squeezes his shoulder affectionately, propping himself on the arm of the couch. "I can probably help you out with all my vast wisdom and experience that comes from being an old man in the industry."

"I can call you 'hyung'?" Ivan whispers, his dark eyes widening, his mask slipping infinitesimally. "Really?"

"Sure. Didn't you keep going on about being my favorite hoobae?" Till cocks an eyebrow, recalling that night fondly. Drunk Ivan can be so cute sometimes. "Guess by that rhetoric, I should level up to being your hyung."

"Don't make fun of me!" Ivan flushes red, burying his face in his hands. Cute, Till thinks. Then, "Till-hyung." The name rolls off his tongue fluidly, sweet on his tongue, eliciting a shiver from Till. "I like it."

"Mm." Till nods, ignoring the warmth creeping up his collar. "So what's bothering you today?"

Ivan frowns, plopping his head on Till's lap, his soft, dark hair fanning out over his thighs. He's truly spoiled Ivan so much that he thinks such behavior is now acceptable between them, but he does nothing to contest it. Till swallows, fingers twitching with the instinct to card them through his hair, then remembering they're still in public. He can feel a few inquisitive eyes on them, too, so he ought not do anything that will make them look even more suspicious.

It's just… unfair how pretty Ivan is. No man should be as pretty as Ivan is. That's why he's been all confused lately, his wires so crossed, no longer able to tell left from right. It's all Ivan's fault.

"I always knew that filming would come to an end. My schedule has been hell trying to fit in filming next to my idol promotions, so this should free up a lot of time for me, too." Ivan hesitates. "But now that it's here, and everyone is saying goodbye, I'm sad."

Till feels an ache in his chest, empathetic with his young junior likely going through this experience for the first time.

Till casts a surreptitious glance at the people around them, seeing their attention is already elsewhere. The last day on set is always hectic, people running around in every direction to get everything wrapped up in record time. He risks brushing his fingers through the dark strands of Ivan's hair, feel as soft to the touch as they look despite all the product that must be in it. Ivan melts into his touch, leaning into it.

A small smile tugs at the corner of Till's lips.

"Saying goodbye is always hard," Till says, "and missing people is even harder."

"I don't care about them," Ivan replies, much to Till's shock. His dark eyes shift to him, their red depths glinting as he drinks him in. "But I'll miss you, Till-hyung, so much."

Till could say that he will be fine. That this is nothing more than a puppy crush and he will move on. He will go on to meet cooler and better actors and idols than him, a whole future ahead of him, while Till probably only has another ten to fifteen years ahead of him tops.

But he doesn't say any of that because he realizes with a pang that he will also miss Ivan. His silly, awkward, and cute hoobae. Maybe he did become his favorite without him ever noticing.

"I'll miss you, too, brat"—Till cups Ivan's nape affectionately, reveling in how the skin heats up under his touch—"But we don't have to say our teary goodbyes just yet. I know we're all going out tonight to celebrate, but do you wanna spend the night at my place tonight afterwards?"

Ivan's face brightens up, all his somberness fading as it's replaced with sheer excitement.

"Just you and me?"

"Yeah." Till nods, hoping that he isn't making a huge mistake. "Just the two of us. Our secret."

The last time he let Ivan spend the night, he ended up getting hard for the first time in about two years. Who knows what will happen if he lets him stay the night this time?

Hopefully nothing. He's just comforting his sad hoobae after all.

Till underestimated how much drinking was involved in the drinking party that follows the last day of filming.

Drinking games galore. His cup was never empty, every time he downed a shot, he'd find his cup miraculously full again and Till wasn't going to say no to free alcohol. It would burn on his way down his throat and when someone would say he should drink some more, he couldn't find any reason to say no.

It takes a lot for Till to get drunk, but he's had so much alcohol tonight that he can't even remember how much he's drank, and he's pretty sure that he's no longer thinking straight. Maybe he's tipsy? Who knows? When he tried to get up to take a smoke, he tripped over his own feet, only Ivan's steady grip on his waist enough to stop him from falling flat onto his face.

He giggles, leaning into Ivan's touch. "Thank you for catching me. My hero."

"I think we should take you home, hyung," Ivan whispers in his ear. "You're really drunk."

"Me? No. 'm just tipsy." Till grins at Ivan, patting his chest, reveling in how firm it is under his touch. He squeezes it, earning a small sound from Ivan that Till finds absolutely delightful. "Has anyone ever told you that you're really hot? Like, it should be illegal how hot you are."

"Maybe a few times, but it's the first time you ever told me that, hyung." Ivan's face is so red right now. So cute. Till pinches his cheek. "Let me take you home, yeah? You said I could spend the night."

There's a blur of slurred goodbyes, everyone completely out of it from drinking so much, and then there's the crisp, cold air of night. Ivan pulls Till onto his back, carrying him with effortless ease, ignoring Till's grumbling complaints about how he must be heavy. He doesn't complain too much though because being carried is nice, an experience he hasn't had since he was a little kid. Ivan's back feels so warm, too, enjoys resting his cheek against his back, feeling how hot his skin is to the touch through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.

Before he knows it, he's stumbling in after Ivan into his own home. There must have been a lapse of time somewhere, the walk home felt both so short and so long, but he doesn't know where it was.

"Thank you for letting me spend the night," Ivan says as he drops Till onto the couch in his living room. "It made me really happy that you offered."

"'course," Till slurs. "You're always welcome in my home, 'van."

"That's a badge I will wear with honor."

Ivan offers Till a glass of water, tilting his head back as he helps him drink it without choking on it. The water feels so cool as it slides down his throat, quenching thirst he didn't even know he had, downing the whole thing in two seconds flat. Ivan places the glass down on the table behind him.

"Thanks," Till mumbles.

"I don't think I've seen you so drunk before, hyung."

"Mm, I don't usually get drunk, but there was a lot of alcohol tonight." Till closes his eyes, his body heavy as lead as he reclines on the couch lazily. Getting to bed will be a struggle tonight. "Why aren't you more drunk? Your tolerance is lower than mine."

"I'm a little tipsy, but I tried to pace myself because I knew I was spending the night." Ivan runs a finger against the length of Till's throat, earning a shiver from Till. "I wanted to savor tonight 'cause I was too drunk last time to do so properly."

Till grunts. "Should have just drunk normally, 'm too tired to play the host tonight. 'm probably gonna crash soon."

"Aww come on, hyung, just hang out with me a little." Ivan nuzzles his throat, lips brushing against his pulse, and Till has to dig his teeth into his bottom lip so he doesn't moan. "Please?"

"I'll be all yours in the morning," Till protests, shaking his head. "I'm an old man and I have a bedtime."

"You don't have to do anything," Ivan promises, "I'll take care of you, hyung."

Ivan wraps his hands around Till's waist, shifting him onto his lap, his fingers so freakishly long that they meet around the middle. Fuck. That forces Till's eyes open, eyes meeting Ivan's dark eyes, the red irises blown out wide as he stares at him with a look akin to reverence.

Till's breath hitches in his chest as Ivan's fingers start shifting to under his shirt, slowly peeling it off his skin. Mayday, mayday, mayday.

"What are you doing?" Till asks, voice high.

"You look too tired to get undressed," Ivan explains, "surely, you won't go to sleep in your going out clothes." Ivan cups Till's cheek, his fingers cool to the touch to his overheating skin. "Look at you, you're burning up."

"I can change just fine on my own—"

"Let me take care of you." Ivan pulls Till's sweater up and off his head, and Till lifts his arms to help him, leaving him shirtless in his living room. Till shivers, trying to cover his chest, but Ivan wraps his hands around his wrists to keep them pried apart, and stares. "I've got you, hyung."

Oh God. Liquid hot warmth pools in Till's chest, festering all over his body, spreading to his cheeks, to his neck, to the base of his stomach. He might be drunk as shit, but not drunk enough to not be mortified by what's going on.

Till may be under an indefinite dry spell, but he isn't so rusty that he doesn't understand exactly where this is going, especially when Ivan's hand reaches for the button of his pants. He wraps his hand around Ivan's wrist, stopping him.

"I have erectile dysfunction," Till blurts out the words for the first time since he got the diagnosis. "And, I'm, uh, straight. Sorry."

Ivan stills, cocking his head to the side. "You're straight?"

Why does he sound so surprised? Has Till ever acted particularly queer somehow? Or is it because of his willingness to act in a queer role without being weird about it? He doesn't know and he's too drunk to think about it too seriously.

"Mm." Till nods, hating how awkward he feels right now. He feels like a liar for some reason even though he's only speaking truths. "I've only ever been with women before."

Something dark flashes behind Ivan's eyes, a twitch of his lower eyelid, but it comes and goes so quickly that Till wonders if he imagined it. Ivan's smile remains fixed on his face, doesn't even twitch.

"And you have erectile dysfunction?" Ivan prompts, sounding even more dubious than before. "I somehow find that difficult to believe."

Till bristles. "I wish I was lying about this, but I literally can't get off even if I did a prayer ritual on my dick, so let's just drop it, okay?"

"That sounds rather unfortunate."

"I told you we don't have to talk about it, it's already mortifying enough that I have to live with it". Till shifts to get off Ivan's lap, but his hands tighten around his waist. "Ivan?"

"I appreciate you opening up to me about your sexuality and your erectile dysfunction"—Till is starting to yearn for death, thinks that if he were to jump out a window, it would be less embarrassing than this—"but I really don't understand what that has to do with me wanting to help you change your clothes into something more comfortable."

Oh God. Did Till misconstrue the whole situation? Maybe he did. Of course, his hoobae isn't trying to seduce him. He needs to get his head out of the fucking gutter. Not only that, he came out to his junior about his most embarrassing life secret for seemingly no reason because of that misunderstanding.

Till wonders if he's drunk enough that he would he be able to give himself amnesia so he can forget this whole conversation ever happened? He doubts it, has always remembered every poor decision he's made while under the influence once he's sobered up, but he wants to be hopeful.

"Okay," Till whispers. "I'm sorry for misunderstanding. You can continue."

Till watches with bated breath as Ivan deftly unbuttons his pants, slowly dragging down his zipper to reveal his briefs underneath. Till bites his bottom lip, thanking the high heavens that his useless dick isn't responding to the stimulus just yet—though with Ivan, it's likely a matter of when not if—so he really hopes Ivan wraps this up soon. When he looks back up at Ivan, he sees that his dark eyes are transfixed on his face, scrutinizing him.

Is there something on his face? Why is Ivan staring at him so hard?

"Can you move a bit so I can take your pants off?"

"Okay," Till whispers.

Till's heart is beating in overdrive as he stands up on shaky feet, towering over Ivan for once, as he pulls down his pants, leaving Till bare save for his briefs. Ivan's eyes roam over him, lingering over his chest, his thighs, his underwear. It feels as if Ivan is undressing him with his eyes, and Till squirms, not sure what to do with himself, but standing around nude in his living room with his co-actor feels like something he shouldn't be doing.

Should he go fetch another pair of clothes? Should he go to sleep in his room, far away from Ivan's searching gaze?

"You can sit down, hyung."

"I know that." Till rolls his eyes. "You don't have to tell me what to do."

But when Till goes to sit down next to Ivan, he tugs on his arm so that he collapses onto his lap again instead. They're much too close like this, Till's hands braced against Ivan's chest because of the fall. A steady thrum vibrates against the palm of his hand, violent like a drum, and he realizes belatedly that it's Ivan's heart.

Ivan's hands find his waist, squeezing it, keeping Till fixed in place atop his lap.

"Ivan—"

"You look so pretty, hyung," Ivan marvels, "is it okay if I touch you a bit?"

He hates that he preens under the praise. Guys like him are always called some variation of handsome, attractive—that's the image he's trying to sell after all—or even passable in the eyes of those who don't like him. Nobody has ever called him pretty before.

Till should say no, but he's stuck on Ivan calling him pretty, so he nods. "Alright."

"Thank you." Ivan smiles at him sweetly, his snaggletooth indenting his bottom lip as he does.

Ivan's hands roam over Till's chest, his stomach. He runs his fingers against his throat, his pulse. Goosebumps erupt on his skin wherever Ivan touches him, but he doesn't hate it either. Rather, he likes it. Quite a lot. Nobody has touched him like this in ages, with so much care and attentiveness, maybe ever if he's being honest with himself.

"I can't get enough of you," Ivan whispers. "Getting to touch you like this is a dream come true to me, hyung."

"You're being dramatic," Till dismisses.

"I'm not." Ivan shakes his head. "You've always been my favorite actor, my favorite person."

Not to brag or anything, but countless people have told Till that he's their favorite actor before. It comes with the field, especially when he's been acting for as long as he has, but it makes him feel a certain type of way when it comes from Ivan. The handsome, talented rookie idol and actor who is clearly going to make it very far in life in just a few short years ahead. And not only is he Ivan's favorite actor, he's his favorite person, too?

The praise makes him feel lightheaded, floaty with it.

"Well, I'm glad that acting with me didn't disillusion you." Till's laugh is strained. "They always say don't meet your idols."

"That's certainly not the case for me." Ivan presses his nose into the crook of Till's throat, taking a deep inhale as he breathes him in. "If anything, my obsession with you has only grown since we started acting together."

Till doesn't get the chance to respond, Ivan's fingers brush against his nipples, hardened by the exposure to the cold air, and Till gasps when he flicks them.

"Sensitive," Ivan remarks idly, pinching his left nipple before massaging it. "Do you play with them often?"

"I do not!"

"You should, it might help with your problem." Ivan's fingers tug on his nipples again, and Till ignores the pulses of pleasure that pool in the base of his stomach. His dick twitches once, starting to respond, and he needs it to stop. "Do you want me to help you with that?"

"With what?" Till asks, his mouth oddly dry.

"Your erectile dysfunction," Ivan says as he pulls back enough to consider Till properly. "I can help."

It sounds like a line that someone would drop in a cheap porno, but this is real life, so Till is left flabbergasted.

"I told you that I'm straight."

"Your heterosexuality and me helping you with your erectile dysfunction are two mutually exclusive concepts that can co-exist together." Ivan teases at the waistband of his briefs. "I'm sure this must be a very frustrating issue for you. Wouldn't it be so nice if you could fix it?"

"You're jus' saying that 'cause you wanna keep touching me," Till says weakly.

"That's true," Ivan admits. "But is that so bad if we both get something out of it?"

Till's thoughts are too slow, coagulating together into a mush that he can't parse through. Surely, there is a logical reason as to why he shouldn't agree, but he's just the right amount of drunk to see the validity in Ivan's logic.

Yeah, he's managed to cum a few times while thinking of Ivan, but it would be nice if he could do it independently of him. He doubts Ivan could help him any better than that nameless idol from all those months ago, but is there any harm in trying? So what if Ivan gets his rocks off to touching him a little bit? Sure, he might be straight, but it's not like the idea of a gay guy as attractive as Ivan being attracted to him turns him off or anything. Hell, it's kind of hot to think of Ivan fucking his hand to the thought of touching him like this.

It's not even sex, it's just his hoobae helping him out with an embarrassing problem that has no apparent solution.

"Okay," Till agrees. "But no sex though."

"No sex," Ivan concedes. "This is just to help you out, hyung."

How charitable of you, Till thinks, rolling his eyes. He sucks in a deep breath, his heart racing in his chest as Ivan hooks his finger in the waistband of his briefs, pulling them down enough to pull out his cock. Ivan makes a small sound, holding it in the palm of his hand, which is cool to the touch against his flaccid cock.

Till buries his face in his hands, already wanting to rescind their deal because he hadn't counted on how embarrassing this would be. He's also just now noticing how Ivan is still fully dressed while he's all but naked on his lap.

He is never going to live this down.

"Okay, maybe on second thought, we shouldn't be doing this—"

"Your cock is so cute, hyung," Ivan says at the same time, cutting him off. "Just like the rest of you."

"Excuse me?" Till's voice is shrill. "My cock is not cute! What the fuck is your—"

The words turn to ash on Till's tongue as Ivan starts tugging on his cock lightly, loosely jerking him off. Too loose to derive any real pleasure, but it feels good, the first time anyone has touched him there in an age. Ivan's thumb presses against the slit of his cock on each upstroke, going slightly faster and harder with each jerking movement. Till bites down on his tongue as he feels his cock starting to respond to the touch, arousal cloying in the base of his stomach.

"You're already hard," Ivan observes.

"Doesn't matter," Till slurs, wrapping his arms around Ivan's shoulders. "Can't cum anyway."

"I see." Ivan twists his wrist in a way that makes Till's head spin. He's too good at this, and for the first time, he wonders how many men has Ivan done this with for him to be so good at giving a handjob? "Let's see if we can break the curse tonight."

Till melts into Ivan's chest as he jerks him off faster, rutting his hips into his fist, and thanks his lucky stars that he's still drunk enough to not be too embarrassed about doing this with his junior. He knows it's wrong, but it also feels hot. He feels sexy being taken care of like this, especially when Ivan is so finely attuned to what he likes, playing with his slit in a way that makes his whole body shiver and fondles his balls in a way that makes his toes curl.

He feels close, so close, but there's something missing. Even with all of Ivan's sinful ministrations, he still can't quite fall over the edge.

"I can't cum," Till whines, his eyes stinging with a fresh wave of tears. "This is hopeless. I'm just cursed and I'm never gonna cum again until I die, alone and miserable and bitchless."

Ivan has the gall to laugh at his outburst, which only serves to piss off Till more, punching him in the chest. Ivan only laughs harder at that.

"Oh, fuck you, not all of us can be hot and young and perfect with a totally functional libido."

"I'm not making fun of you, hyung"—Ivan presses a kiss to Till's cheek, wiping away the tears that are now staining his cheeks with the pad of his thumb. It's such an intimate gesture, and he hates that it actually achieves the desired effect of calming him down—"though, it does flatter me that you think of me so fondly. But your reactions are admittedly quite humorous."

"You're not gonna think I'm so funny when I kick you out of my house," Till says darkly.

"No." Ivan shakes his head. "But I do have a pretty basic question for you."

"Which is?"

"Have you ever tried using your prostate, hyung?"

Till blinks slowly at that, not quite sure if he heard Ivan correctly. But Ivan's expression doesn't change, looking at Till expectantly as he waits for a response. Something that is almost comical considering that he's still idly jerking Till off between them.

"Are you asking me if I tried fucking my ass?" Till asks finally.

"Essentially, yes."

Till doesn't know the details of gay sex, but he's not stupid either. He knows that it involves one guy giving it and the other one taking it up the ass. He knows that the prostate is basically the guy's g-spot, that it makes sex more pleasurable for whoever is taking it. Regardless, it never sounded particularly enjoyable to Till, just the idea of it made him wince, so he never even considered it. To each their own, but it was nothing he had any interest in dabbling in.

And yet, Ivan is asking him that question with a completely straight face.

"No, I have not." Till bristles. "I told you that I'm not g—"

"Gay, I know." Ivan smiles at him in understanding. Till flushes, hating that he must sound like a broken record at this point. "But the prostate is a gland that all men possess regardless of their sexuality, so you ought to utilize it. Desperate times call for desperate measures as they say."

Feeling slightly admonished by his apparently very woke junior, Till feels like he shouldn't outright reject the offer. But does Ivan realize what he's asking of him? To put fingers up his ass? That's so weird. There's no way it actually feels as good as people say it does.

What if he does it, and it just hurts and it's weird, and he still doesn't cum for all his efforts? It's not worth it.

"I don't know…"

"You don't have to be scared, I'll handle everything." Ivan kisses the corner of Till's lips. "I promise I'll help you fix your problem."

"I—fine. Whatever, you can try it."

Till does not at all anticipate Ivan flipping him on the couch so that his face is squished against his own cushions, his waist held up by Ivan's hands on him. A gasp leaves his chest, breathless as he tries to move, but Ivan tightens his hold on his waist.

"Stay still, hyung," Ivan instructs, and for whatever reason, he listens. "Good boy."

His cock does not twitch at being called 'good boy' by a guy almost half his age. Absolutely not.

He shivers, feeling so exposed as Ivan pulls off his briefs completely, squeezing his ass, kneading his cheeks as he pulls them apart to reveal his hole. Fuck, this is so embarrassing. Somehow, his cock is still hard, dripping pre-cum onto his cushions; a miracle in and of itself.

He braces himself for pain, for the blunt force of Ivan's fingers prying their way into his hole, but instead, he feels a hot puff of air against his entrance. Till stills, thinking his wires are too crossed to parse through his senses when he feels a long, wet stroke directly against his hole. It feels so weird, so different from anything he's ever experienced before.

"Ivan, what are you doing—?"

Till groans when Ivan's grip on his waist becomes bruising, Ivan laving small circles over his hole, before dipping his tongue inside his hole. Till melts into the couch as Ivan fucks his tongue into his hole, a place where his tongue definitely should not be, but it also feels so good. He can't remember sex or masturbation ever feeling this good. Is this normal or is Ivan just that good? A moan slips from Till's mouth, still too inebriated to try to stem it.

"You shouldn't be putting your mouth there," Till says, all while pushing his hips back against Ivan's face because he's nothing if not a fucking hypocrite.

Ivan doesn't verbally respond, too busy making Till see stars, but he knows he heard him when he goes down on him even harder. Sucking on his hole, scraping his damned snaggletooth against his rim in a way that makes Till shiver, shoving his tongue even deeper inside of his hole. Till moans as he clamps down around Ivan's tongue. His cock throbs, still so hard, but his climax continues to evade him, but he's enjoying himself too much to pull the plug even if this attempt turns out to be a flop, too.

Does this count as sex? Ivan is quite literally eating him out, so maybe? But also, not really. As long as no penetration occurs with a cock, then it's not sex. He's just helping Till find his prostate so he can finally cum, they're still in the clear.

"Feels good," Till mumbles.

"I'm about to make you feel a whole lot better, hyung," Ivan rasps.

Till immediately understands what Ivan means by that when he pushes one finger inside of his hole, which stretches him out more than his tongue did, offering a dull ache, but it doesn't hurt as much as he thought it would. Ivan's hands massage his lower back, his ass, and he relaxes into the couch as Ivan fucks his finger inside of him alongside his tongue. It feels good, but it's not as mind blowing as he thought it should be. All this hubbub about prostates, and it all turned out to be fake propaganda apparently.

But then Ivan uses two fingers, scissoring him open, fully stretching him out. His fingers curl on each thrust, searching, and when they push against a small nub inside of him—searing hot pleasure slams into Till's body, unbidden.

It has to be a fluke, Till thinks, but then Ivan does it again. And again. Continues to thrust his fingers against that same spot until Till can barely breathe. Molten hot warmth pools in the base of his stomach as Ivan fucks him fast and hard with those two fingers, eating him out even deeper as he stretches him out even further.

Two fingers become three, his hole so stretched out now as he clenches tightly around Ivan's fingers, pushing his hips back against Ivan's face, his fingers so he can push them in deeper. Sobs are ripped from Till's chest as Ivan pushes three fingers against his prostate, and he feels so, so close for the first time in so long. He tries to wrap a hand around his cock, but Ivan slaps his hand away, wrenching another sob from him.

"'m so close, Ivan, please, please, please—"

Till's eyes roll back when Ivan's hand wraps around his cock instead. Compounded pleasure coursing through his veins as Ivan teases his prostate all while jerking him off, nothing like when he was just jerking him off earlier, let alone when Till was doing this on his own. It's been so long since Till has been touched by anyone, let alone touched all over, on the receiving end of all Ivan's worship.

"Be a good boy for me and cum, hyung," Ivan whispers directly in his ear, punctuating his statement with a wet kiss to the nape of his neck, teeth scraping against his skin in a way that will surely leave a mark.

And somehow, Ivan's words, when combined with everything else, are what finally push Till over the edge. A guttural groan falls from Till's lips as he releases all over Ivan's palm, his whole body spasming as his climax slams into him, every nerve ending firing off with dopamine as he finally cums after such a long drought. Tension leaves his shoulders as he lets his climax wash over him, moaning Ivan's name as his cum catches on his couch cushions, his knees no longer capable of holding his own weight as he collapses onto the couch underneath him. He whines as Ivan massages his prostate through his climax, oversensitivity wracking his frame, milking his cock until he has no cum left to expend.

His couch is now ruined forever, but that's a problem for sober Till to deal with.

"See? I told you that I could help fix your problem," Ivan tells him, spinning Till around so that he's forced to look at him again. "I did good on my promise, didn't I?"

Till drinks in his blown out red pupils, his wavy hair a total mess, the spit that lathers the bottom half of his face, the extremely visible tent in his pants. Ivan—who is always perfectly put together, the perfect boy scout idol—is a mess because of him. He feels a certain type of way about that.

"You did." Till's Adam's apple bobs in his throat. "I thought I'd never cum again."

"And yet you did." Ivan raises his hand to show Till, still coated in his cum. "You came so much. You were truly so backed up, hyung."

Till's breath hitches as Ivan makes a purposeful gesture of laving his tongue over the palm of his hand, licking his cum clean off it, never once breaking his gaze. Till's cock twitches in interest, which is ridiculous.

"Well, it has been over two years for me." Till laughs weakly.

"So long." Ivan nods sympathetically. "But don't you think I deserve a reward for helping you out with such a pressing issue?"

Till licks his bottom lip. "Like what?"

"Nothing much." A blush tints Ivan's pale cheeks as he places a hand atop his cock, so hard in his pants that it must be painful. "I just want to get off while you watch me."

That seems to cross into full homo territory, but it would also be unfair to say no when Ivan cured his ED, gave him one of the best orgasms of his life at that. He'd also be lying if he said he wasn't curious to see Ivan without all his clothes, if he said he didn't want to see what Ivan was packing. He can tell he looks big, too. Not that it matters, of course, he's just curious is all.

It's just jerking off. It still doesn't count as sex, he tells himself.

"Sure." Till arches his back in a way that he hopes comes off as inviting. "I don't see the harm in that."

Ivan hums, taking off his sweater in one swift movement, discarding it on the floor by the pile of Till's clothes. Till's eyes roam over his defined collarbones, his pecs, the lines of his abdomen. The happy trail leading downwards to the waistband of his jeans. Till swallows, feeling parched. Ivan is handsome, a heart throb, the visual of his group. Everyone knows this. Till knows this. But it's the first time that he properly registers how devastatingly sexy he is.

"Do you like what you see, hyung?" Ivan asks him as he pops the button of his jeans open, pulling his heavy cock out. "You're staring."

A shiver runs down Till's spine as his attention shifts to Ivan's cock. His size puts Till's own to shame, thick and hung, dripping pre-cum generously as Ivan strokes himself languidly. It's the kind of cock that Till imagines are what women must be referring to when they talk about men who fuck them so good, they can't think straight afterwards. It's the kind of cock that Till thought only porn stars had.

This is the part where he should be grossed out. As a certified straight man, Till should have no interest in seeing another man's dick. He's never been interested before, not really, would only steal glimpses at the men when he was watching porn but that's normal, right? But this is real life and Ivan is his co-star. He should close his eyes and let Ivan get it over with and they can write off everything that happened tonight as a drunk mistake without much of an irreversible impact imposed onto their relationship.

But instead, he's unable to look away, his stomach cloying with something hot and needy.

"Hyung?" Ivan repeats, "you didn't answer my question."

Oh, right. Ivan had asked him a question.

"Yeah," Till mumbles.

"Yeah, what?" Ivan asks, hovering over Till as he jerks himself off properly. His body is so close to Till's now, his hand pumping his cock right over Till's own hips, lazy with it. Teasing himself. He's drawing this out. "Are you admitting to being attracted to me despite your acclaimed heterosexuality?"

Till dug his own grave, and now it's time for him to lie in it.

"Fuck off, y'know you're hot."

"Is that why you're hard for me again?" Ivan asks, flicking the tip of Till's cock, making his back arch in oversensitivity. "I'm flattered."

Till hadn't even realized he'd gotten hard again, but surely enough, he's completely hard and leaking over his stomach. Ivan is stroking his cock right over his own, so he must have gotten hard by proxy. It's also unfair that Ivan is touching himself while leaving Till unattended.

He wants to touch himself, too. He already came, but he wants to cum again now that he knows how good it can feel. But when he goes to wrap his hand around his cock, Ivan pins his wrists over his head. Till tries yanking his hands free, but Ivan's grip on his wrists is a vice, his biceps straining as he tightens his hold on him. It's kind of sexy in and of itself that Ivan can restrain him with just one hand, but he's too frustrated with the innate desire to cum to properly appreciate that fun fact right now.

Till wants to cry all over again.

"Don't be greedy, hyung." Ivan presses a kiss to Till's forehead. "You already came once. Just lay there and be pretty until I get off."

"But I'm hard," Till whines. "I wanna cum."

Ivan laughs, and for the first time, Till wonders if he actually knew his cute junior at all. There's a cruelty to this laugh, to the darkness of his eyes. He's enjoying this, is enjoying tormenting Till, and is getting off on it.

"We'll see about that."

Till's cock throbs, his hole twitches, and he needs something, but Ivan won't give it to him. But he's relegated to the role of just watching as Ivan pleasures himself. Ivan's head hangs, his fringe clinging to his sweaty forehead, his chest heaving as he fucks his fist faster. He looks so good, jaw clenched, so aroused and it's all because of him. Till is the one who turned on Ivan to this degree.

"'m so close, hyung," Ivan says breathlessly. "Can I cum inside of you?"

Till blinks slowly, not quite sure if he understood the question. "You want to cum inside of me?"

"Yeah." Ivan smiles at him widely, his snaggletooth glinting in the dim lighting of his living room. "I'll just put the tip in—just wanna cum inside of you."

Till needs to have a line in the sand somewhere. He said no sex, and this is teetering dangerously close to the edge of that faint line. This is where he should be saying no, because cumming inside is something he hasn't done with anyone, let alone letting someone do it to him. But maybe it's the mix of alcohol and arousal addling his brain because he widens his legs, allowing Ivan more access.

This has absolutely nothing to do with that gnawing emptiness he feels inside, the desperate need he has to be filled.

"Just the tip," Till concedes.

Ivan nods eagerly, groaning loudly as he lathers his cock with a gross mix of spit and cum, shifting his hips to line the tip of his cock with Till's stretched out hole. Till watches with bated breath as the tip of Ivan's cock slips against his hole, brushing against it only to pull back again, snagging on his rim only to pull away.

"Stop teasing," Till begs. "Just get it over with—hngh—"

Till throws his head back as the tip of Ivan's cock breaches his hole, so much thicker than his fingers were. It stretches him so deliciously that his mind goes blank, zeroed in on nothing but Ivan's cock, clenching around it. Ivan groans—a deep, guttural sound that makes Till melt underneath him—finally letting go of Till's wrists, leaning on his forearms, as if literally incapable of supporting his own weight otherwise.

"You're so tight, hyung." Ivan rocks his hips shallowly. "You're sucking me in."

"Ivan." Till sinks his nails into his shoulders to bring him in even closer. "I need you."

"Mm, hyung, 'm sorry, but I don't think I can hold back anymore."

Till doesn't get a chance to process his statement let alone respond before Ivan crashes his lips against his own, kissing him hard. Snaggletooth digging into his bottom lip, prying Till's mouth open as Ivan forces his tongue inside, all but consuming him. A messy, desperate kiss, nothing like the clumsy kiss he'd first given him on the set of Alien Stage, which makes him wonder how unexperienced Ivan actually was then. Ivan sucks on his tongue, and Till moans, drooling way too much into the kiss, and Ivan consumes all of it like it's his last meal.

His mind lags, groaning against Ivan's lips when he feels him fully bottom out, filling him up until their hips are flush against each other. Ivan is inside of him; kissing him, fucking him.

This is sex, Till concludes lamely. He's having sex with his junior, who is another man, and he likes it.

"Don't be mad, hyung." Ivan hikes Till's legs over his shoulders, pushing him into a mating press that makes his thighs ache because he's way too old to be moving his body in such angles. "I couldn't help myself from fucking you, but I promise to make you feel good, too."

Till feels his soul leave his body as Ivan fucks him fast and hard, thrusting not with a lot of rhythm, but a feral hunger. He fucks Till like he's searching for something he'll only find in the depths of his body, and Till can only take it, searing hot pleasure bursting through his body on each thrust. Ivan is too good at this, too, fucking him so deep while aiming every thrust at his prostate making Till shiver as he clenches around Ivan—his cock so big that it stretches him wide and fills him so deep—his own cock dripping pre-cum all over his stomach.

Getting fucked like this feels so emasculating, so different from when he would fuck other women, having to be in so control of everything and making sure they felt good. Now, he gets to surrender himself to the wave of pleasure that overwhelms him, leaving himself in Ivan's sinful hands.

This is nothing like when he was fingering him open earlier, so much more intense. The kind of pleasure that's demanding, taking up every iota of Till's thought and emotion, reducing him to nothing but a fuck toy for Ivan's gratification, and by proxy, his own. He never knew that his body could feel this good, and it's Ivan bringing out this side of him. How is he supposed to ever go back to doing this on his own without Ivan after this?

Till's stomach starts to coil, something akin to an orgasm about to hit. "Ivan, 'm gonna cum, fuck—"

"You know, Till-hyung, I thought you were lying when you said that you were straight, that you had erectile dysfunction." Ivan smiles at him beatifically as he fucks him harder, tears welling in Till's eyes as he digs his nails deeper in Ivan's shoulders for purchase. "I've seen the way you look at me when you think I'm not paying attention. Like you want me, like you need me." Ivan licks Till's cheek with one long stroke, catching his tears on his tongue before he presses a chaste kiss to the bottom of his eye. "And I heard you that night. I heard you masturbate while calling out my name."

Till is not so drunk on alcohol and pleasure to not seize in mortification at that statement, imagining Ivan standing out his door for longer than he'd realized, listening to Till whisper his name as he tried and failed to get himself off. He shakes his head, not knowing how to explain to him that Ivan is his vice but it doesn't mean what he thinks it means, but Ivan shushes him with a chaste kiss to his lips.

"It's fine, I liked it. I like the idea of you being obsessed with me the same way I'm obsessed with you."

"'m not obsessed."

"Don't lie to me, hyung." Ivan scrapes his teeth against his neck, right over his heart pulsing a maddening frenzy there. Till hisses at the sting of pain, knowing that Ivan certainly left a mark. "It'll hurt my feelings."

Ivan wraps his hand around Till's cock, now jerking him off in tandem with his thrusts. Till moans, that urgency from earlier returning full throttle. He's going to cum, feels it when Ivan drags his hand over his cock, teasing his frenulum and dipping his finger in the slit on each stroke. Ivan grabs Till by his jaw, kissing him again, but it's messier this time. More so a clash of teeth than a proper kiss, but Till thrives on it, panting into Ivan's mouth as Ivan overwhelms all his senses at once. The intensity of it increases as Ivan fucks his prostate, his pace unrelenting, grinding against the same spot until Till tips over the edge.

His orgasm racks his body, soaks Ivan's hand and himself as he cums so hard that he's left a quivering mess. He clenches around Ivan's cock, earning another groan from Ivan as he stills inside of him, his own climax hitting him as he empties himself deep inside of Till. He cums so much, fills him up with it, and Till would be lying if he said he didn't love the fullness of it. Ivan clenches his jaw as he rocks his hips against Till's, riding out his own climax through Till's own aftershocks of oversensitivity, but the visual is too hot for Till to complain.

Till whimpers as Ivan pulls out, his cum trickling out of his hole onto his already ruined couch, and Ivan whistles lowly as he examines his own work. Till know he must paint a picture of pure debauchery for Ivan, which makes him want to hide in a hole and never emerge.

"Guess all you needed was some gay sex to fix your erectile dysfunction, hyung." Ivan grins at him cheekily. "You're welcome."

Till kicks his chest aggressively to which Ivan only laughs because he's an ungrateful little shit. Ivan catches Till's ankle massaging it with his thumb in small circles.

"Hyung?"

"Yeah?" Till asks, staring at the ceiling, refusing to look at Ivan right now.

Is this the part where they talk about their feelings, about what this means for them? The part where Till is supposed to establish a boundary and declare what they did as a drunken mistake that shouldn't happen again? A pit forms in the base of his stomach, not at all looking forward to that.

But he can handle it. It's his role as the older one in their relationship—no, dynamic, because they aren't in a relationship. They're just co-workers. Not even that anymore because filming wrapped today.

"I'm hard again," Ivan tells him in a small voice, sounding genuinely embarrassed.

Dread swells in Till's chest for entirely different reasons now as he turns his attention to Ivan's cock, and surely enough, he's incredibly hard and raring to go. He's rutting his cock against Till's thigh like a dog in heat.

What the fuck?

"What the fuck?" Till voices his thoughts aloud. "It hasn't even been five minutes, Ivan!"

"Sorry, Till-hyung, you see I have a short refractory period." Ivan pouts. "I get hard easily and it doesn't go down until I've cum a bunch of times. Also, you're you, so of course I'm hard again. I mean look at yourself."

The realization dawns upon Till in that moment that Ivan might have the opposite problem that he did. Erectile overfunction, if that's even a term, but it certainly seems to apply to Ivan. And it's a problem he plans to take out on Till.

This, right here, is where Till pushes Ivan away because he's definitely sobered up enough to do so. He got what he wanted—he finally broke his dry spell—so taking things any further would be worsening the mistake. Fucking once can be written off, but twice? Three times? That's a pattern, one that's hard to explain, even harder to forget.

Then again, it would be rude not to offer some help considering the fact that Ivan helped him with his own problem.

"Fine." Till lets out a labored sigh as he spreads his legs open for Ivan, his hole still wet with his cum. "Hyung will take care of you tonight, Ivan."

He's barely even finished his sentence when Ivan bottoms out again, pulling a broken gasp from Till, pushing in as deep as he can with one thrust of his hips. "You feel so good, hyung, I can't get enough."

Till is in for a very long night indeed.

Till loses track of time after that.

Ivan fucks him again on the couch. Then on the kitchen table when Till declared that he was hungry, slipping his cock inside of him while Till was trying to make himself a goddamn sandwich, all while apologizing because he couldn't help himself. They eventually make it to the bed where Ivan makes Till ride his cock while in tears because his thighs ached too much and Ivan refused to help him. Once, Ivan even pulled out right before he finished just so he could cum all over Till's face, smearing it all over his cheek only to lap it up again, which recontextualized how much of a freak his 'cute' junior truly is.

Ivan fucked Till until he literally couldn't cum anymore, his cock aching now on each orgasm, only a small, pathetic dribble coming out of his cock each time he managed an orgasm. And even then, he didn't take mercy upon him, would take Till's cock into his mouth until he learned through practice rather than theory that maybe blowjobs given by Ivan beat out any other experience he's ever had in his life before that. So much gay sex than Till ever imagined having in his life, but maybe he's seeing the light in how good it is.

Because while the sex that Till may have had prior to Ivan may have been lame, lackluster and forgettable, the sex he has with Ivan puts that all to shame. The sex with Ivan is so good that sets a standard, putting all his experiences into categories of 'before' and 'after'. Albeit coming with the unfortunate caveat of Ivan fucking him within an inch of his life when he's much too old with too little stamina to go for this long.

But Ivan also makes Till feel desirable in a way he's never felt before, makes him feel young in a way he hasn't felt in years, so if this will all be constrained to one night, then why not indulge for once in his life?

When Till wakes up, it's to sunlight directly shining in his face, which is so odd considering the fact that Till got black-out curtains specifically because he hated brightly lit rooms.

He groans, turning on his bed to stretch his limbs because everything aches, but in a good way. It takes a few seconds for his brain to recalibrate, the memories of the previous night flooding in with sharp accuracy—Ivan offering to take off his clothes, Ivan 'helping' him with his ED, Ivan fucking him not once, but countless times—and he pauses mid-stretch. His heart drops to his stomach, turning to the empty spot in the bed next to him, which is cold and perfectly made up. Ivan must have slipped out while he was sleeping, a while ago at that.

Till swallows, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. This is fine. He's a grown man, and he knows how these encounters go. They have sex, and one of them leaves before things get awkward, before Till has to say something gentle and polite to shoo him out of his house. He's been the one slipping out countless times before; he never cared for pillow talk or fake intimacy proceeding his sexual encounters. He can imagine it; Ivan slipping out of the bed after Till fell asleep, quietly gathering his discarded clothes as he got dressed discreetly, closing the door with a silent click so as to not arouse Till and face an unpleasant conversation. It makes sense that Ivan would leave; they both got what they wanted out of the night and now that moment has passed, so extending it to the light of day would make things messy.

Till knows all of this on some rational level, but waking up to an empty bed makes him feel used and bereft. His heart in tatters, his stomach knotting like he wants to throw up. He thought that he meant more to Ivan than a cheap hookup, that he'd stay for longer than just to get his dick wet with some sweet words. It's not like he was asking for Ivan's hand in marriage, but they could have grabbed a bite to eat together in the morning while talking casually about anything else besides last night.

He shouldn't care at all, and yet, he does.

The bedroom door opens, pulling Till from his thoughts, and he finds Ivan peeking through the doorway. He's smiling at him the same way he always has, a styrofoam holder with two cups of coffee held in it. He places it on the dresser carefully, taking off his—Till's actually—sweatshirt and hanging it like this room is also his own.

"Hey, hyung! You're awake? Amazing. I went out for a jog and grabbed us coffee from your favorite cafe"—Ivan blinks, properly looking at Till, bounding towards him in less than two beats—"wait, why are you crying?"

Till hadn't realized that he'd started crying, not until Ivan is wiping the tears from his cheeks. He shakes his head, wanting to hide his face, but Ivan refuses to let go of him. His brows are furrowed in concern, his lips tugged into a frown, distress radiating off him in waves.

"Talk to me, hyung, what's going on? Is it because of what happened last night?" Ivan gathers Till's shaking frame into his arms. "I'm so sorry, we don't have to do that again if you were uncomfortable—"

"I thought you left. I thought you left and weren't coming back." Till holds onto Ivan's t-shirt, much too tight on him because it's another item he must have scavenged from Till's closet. "Which is fine, it was just—I don't know—I got a little sad, I guess. I would have been fine if you left, I'm just weird, my emotions all over the place." Till shakes his head. "Fuck, this is so embarrassing, I'm too old to be overreacting like this."

"Hyung…" Ivan's eyes soften. "I'm so sorry I left, but I didn't want to wake you, you looked so exhausted and I wanted to surprise you with some nice coffee." He tightens his hold on Till, pressing a kiss to the side of his forehead. "And you're not overreacting at all. I'm honestly a little happy now."

"Why?" Till sniffs.

"Because I expected you to tell me that last night was a mistake, that we should both forget about it, and that it'll never happen again"—Till winces at that, hating how much of an open book he must be to Ivan—"but you acting like this means that you care about me, too, that you also like me on some level. I can work with that."

Till suddenly understands what Ivan means. It's not a direct confession, but it's obvious enough that Till can read between the lines. Understands what all the courtship, flirting, and even what the sex meant. Ivan likes him. He wants to be with him.

"But we shouldn't do it again; I'm your hyung, I'm literally fifteen years older than you. We're both men under the public eye. It could never work out—"

"Or maybe it can." Ivan grins at Till. "I like you, hyung. A lot. I don't care that you're older than me. You're it for me, the only guy I've ever wanted to be with, the reason I even got into the entertainment industry to begin with. And if you like me, too, if even a little, then we can make this work. You can even get rid of me once you get tired of having a young, hot boyfriend."

It's essentially a confession; Ivan admitting the truth to a question Till asked long ago. That Till is the elusive actor that Ivan entered the entertainment industry for, all because he wanted to meet him, have any chance to be around him.

Till sputters out a laugh, trying to mask the fact that his heart is racing, his stomach fluttering like an entire cage of butterflies have been set loose in his stomach. Before last night, he'd been straight, so he didn't even consider having feelings for Ivan. But now that he's sitting here in Ivan's arms, basking in his warmth as he peppers his face with kisses and cards his fingers through his hands, after spending an entire night being fucked silly by him, he thinks that changes his perspective a little. He thinks about how filming with Ivan as his co-star was the happiest he'd been in months, loved hanging out with him and doting on him. He thinks about how his heart broke when he thought Ivan left, only to be immediately pieced together by his return.

Maybe he isn't so straight, after all. Maybe he likes Ivan a lot more than he thought he did. An epiphany which ought to be frightening at his big age of thirty-five, but it's also exciting in its own way. He's acted so many roles of the yearning lover, of the guy chasing after a girl he just couldn't live without, but all of it felt fake. A fantasy he could never ascribe to. He doesn't think he's ever felt this way before, didn't think that he could.

But Ivan brings out those feelings in him, makes him feel like the main character in a drama falling in love for the first time, with all the warm fuzziness that feeling comes along with. With the security that even if he falls, he will find someone to catch him. He feels like his character in Alien Stage, falling in love with the boy who loved him with his whole heart, albeit a little too late on the uptake.

There are so many reasons why they should never work, but there are also several reasons why they just might.

"I like you, too, Ivan." Till kisses Ivan. It's a sweet kiss, one that lingers, conveying all the feelings that Till can't articulate in words. "You've ruined me for anyone else, so you'd better take responsibility."

Ivan's face turns a very bright shade of tomato red, nodding quickly.

"I'll take responsibility forever. I love you, hyung." Ivan covers his mouth. "Wait, maybe I shouldn't have said that. Please forget I said that."

"I won't, but thank you."

"Hyung, please." Ivan buries his face in his hands. "Oh God, I want to die right now."

After all the torture Ivan put him through last night, Till would be lying if he said he doesn't enjoy seeing Ivan on the receiving end of it for just a little bit. He deserves to suffer.

Till throws his head back and laughs, feeling light. He might not be in love with Ivan just yet, but he knows that with time, he will be. The future, for the first time in a very long time, looks bright.