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Till is openly sobbing now, not bothering to hold back his tears. Ivan could hardly hold himself back at the ungodly sight on top of him. Till’s thin body visibly trembles every time Ivan’s cock brushes against his prostate. His teal eyes are already glazed over, unfocused. Every shaky deep breath Till takes makes him clench his inside. Ivan curls his fingers on the sheets as the pleasure hits.
The black haired man licks his lips, waiting for the right moment. He places one hand on Till’s hips, slowing the younger man’s movement just enough for it to be unbearable. Ivan reaches for the cigarette on their bedside drawer.
“Till.”
At Ivan’s call, Till stopped completely, fully sitting on Ivan’s cock now. He looked at Ivan in confusion before understanding dawned on him. The grey haired man takes the lighter from Ivan’s hand, and after a few unsuccessful tries, he lits Ivan’s cigarette with his unsteady hands. Ivan smiles.
“Does your arm still hurt?”
Ivan asks, his voice low and hoarse, smoke coming out of his mouth. Till shakes his head wordlessly. He doesn't move.
Ivan takes a long drag, inhaling deeply. He looks at the way Till's body moves with his breathing, the small shudders as he repositions himself on Ivan's cock. Ivan takes the cigarette away, and exhales. He gestured at Till to come closer. His lover looks uncertainly at the cigarette he's holding, but Till obeys -- as always -- and leans forward to close the distance between them.
The cigarette brushes against the skin on Till's left collarbone, and Till immediately flinches away in reflex. Till shakes his head, tears start streaming down his face again. Ivan has a death grip on his hips, not allowing the other to get away.
"It won't hurt more than your arm, come on."
Ivan caresses Till's tear streaked cheek. The stalemate went on for a minute, with Till's tightening grip on Ivan's clothes and Ivan's humming filling the space between them. Ivan could squeal at his lover's thinking expression. By that look, Till is probably trying to gauge how much pain it will inflict. It was as if butterflies were fluttering about in Ivan's stomach. Ah, what did he do in his previous life to gain such a cute lover?
Eventually, Till gave in and nodded hesitantly. But Ivan could see the lustful anticipation in his teal eyes.
"Good boy."
Till blushed at the praise, the pink color spreading across his cheeks.
The tip of the cigarette pressed harder onto Till's skin. And soon, the scent of burning flesh fills the room. Till is screaming, his body jerking in reflex, struggling against Ivan's tight grip on his hips. The younger man's insides clenched down hard, making Ivan groan. He pulls the cigarette back after a few seconds, grinning in satisfaction at his work.
“Ivan– haa, another, please…”
Ivan paused at Till’s request. He smashed their lips together for a messy kiss. He made Till lit another cigarette for him, exchanging the smoke as their lips met once again.
“You know, these days I wonder if you have ever gone to work only to remember what we did whenever you see your arm.”
The black haired man whispers, his fingers tapping Till’s cast lightly. Till gulps, his eyes meeting Ivan’s pleadingly. Ivan only smiled mischievously.
“Well?”
“I have.”
Till’s reply is quiet, sounding almost ashamed if not for the smile threatening to bloom on his lips.
“I– I would have to go to the toilet, and I would touch myself and think of you. You would push me against the wall, and– hah, and fuck me. Ah, and you would pull my hair and bite me and– and then– and then, you would burn me with a cigarette– a-ah, like this. Oh, please, Ivan– please– more, I can take it, just a little bit more– ahhn, yes, there, there, Ivan, please, oh, more, please–!"
Till's eyes were rolling back into his head, his body trembling as he rides Ivan's cock faster, his good hand gripping tightly at the older man's shoulders. A sob broke free from his mouth, and tears start streaming down his cheeks again. His face was flushed, drool leaking from his lips.
Heat pooled in his stomach, stars sparkling in his vision as he nearly reached his orgasm. But he couldn't quite reached it, his stamina failing him as his one good arm is losing strength. Till looked at Ivan and the still lit cigarette, desperate.
"What a mess you are."
Ivan sighs fondly, leaning back against the headboard, his cigarette dangling from his mouth. Till's body is trembling in desperation, his insides clenching. Ivan smirks, and takes the cigarette off his mouth, blowing out a puff of smoke. He takes Till's chin in his hand, and presses the cigarette to the underside of the younger man's jaw.
Till came.
His whole body tenses as the pleasure crashes over him, his eyes rolling back into his head, mouth wide open. He collapses on top of Ivan, who is still fucking him, chasing his own orgasm. A few moments later, Ivan's cum spilled inside Till, filling the other man up. He pats Till's hair, sighing in contentment. Till shifts a bit to press a kiss to the older man's cheek.
They both stayed silent for a moment, before Ivan breaks the silence with a whisper,
"Yeah, I should definitely make you film yourself whenever you masturbate in the bar's toilet. Maybe one day I'll use you like a toilet."
And the lovesick expression on Till's face is enough of an answer for both of them.