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After yet another argument with his son, Urak does what he always does: lock Till inside his room.
Till comes crashing forward into his room, tripping over the door frame as Urak locks the door from the outside. Then he screams some more, and by that point, it's faded out in Till's mind. Something about being useless, something else about being stupid, and some more about not being good enough to work for his dirty company in the future.
And yes, Till already knew all that.
He turns over from where he fell on all fours on the floor, wincing as he sits on his butt. He checks the damage on his hands, they're just red and barely scratched; his knees probably looking somewhat similar.
After dusting himself off and regaining composure, he stands up and goes over to the door. His hand takes the doorknob; it turns for a second and then rattles, stuck. Sometimes Urak is so mad he just slams the door and forgets to actually lock it, it seems he did lock it this time though.
He huffs through his nose, looking around his room, hoping in some corner he would find the answer to what to do now. He doesn't want to just sit and feel miserable.
Then he sees his hand-made of reused-jeans messenger bag with an embroidered star in a lighter color on the side; he uses it to hide the spray paints he got as a gift from Sua - that he knew Mizi made her buy -. The memory of the stone-faced girl handing him a beautifully wrapped gift on his birthday, a slight pout on her glossy lips and a very amused Mizi behind her bringing Till a trickle of happiness.
Yeah, there are good things in his life, even if fights and scratches and sneaking out was the norm.
Oh, sneaking out. He hasn't done that in a while.
He wills himself to gather his essentials and leave quick, leading him to pat his pant pockets, front, back, but nothing. He blinks and the memory flashes on the back of his eyelids. Urak snatching his phone from his hands and throwing it somewhere right before their whole argument exploded. Till groans, the first real sound he made since roughing up his throat in the screaming match. Stupid old man.
Till rolls his eyes in annoyance, and before he could even double think his actions, he marches towards his messenger bag, puts it on his bed while he changes his shirt for a black hoodie, patched in softer, cool patterns by Till himself, obviously. He slings the bag over his shoulder, walking over his window and opening it.
With practiced ease, he slides over the roof, keeping close to it and giving long steps to maximize his range. At the edge he hops to a nearby stone wall, crouches, and starts descending with his hands still gripping the top of it, once his body is hanging, now with his gravitational center closer to the ground, he lets go.
He lands on the grass with a little bit of a stumble, but straightens up and dusts his hands against his pants. He sighs, the chilly breeze cooling off his neck and head. Always good after a very heated argument. He should start doing this more often again.
He starts wandering around, last time he checked his phone it was about eight twenty, their argument lasted maybe about an hour so probably around nine thirty... that should be right.
The sky seemed too dark, and the streets seemed a little empty to be somewhat early. But the nouveau riche neighborhood they lived in tended to always be lonely. Till puts up his hood, knowing that most properties have cameras on them; not like Urak cared enough to go asking for Till, but he would rather have no one spot him anyways.
His night stroll would've been better if he had his headphones and phone with him, but it was also nice and probably - definitely - healthy for him to think and digest everything. Although he'd rather paint it out and stack it against the bunch of other paintings he has in the corner of his room gathering dust, or write a song about it that no one but Mizi will hear anyways. Anything, but feel this heaviness in his chest and stinging in his eyes.
He decides he should do just that. He has thought about Urak long enough, their complicated relationship, and how it actually hurts that he is so unsupportive and mean and-
Till swallows hard, a few tears wet his cheeks, he lets them. He loves feeling, but not for his dead-beat dad. Mizi says that his feelings are beautiful, his heart is art by itself, and he believes her. He doesn't want to let his art be tainted by his father. He has already tainted Till enough.
He stops in his tracks at a corner, looking at the edge of the sidewalk where the street begins, behind him the corner of a fence rounding a big yellow house, a stop sign next to him, and more sidewalk to the other side of him.
Should he keep walking? Where is he even going? He won't get lost in his own neighborhood, but he has been walking for quite a while and without a phone to look at the map... Till clicks his tongue, wiping away the continuous stream of tears with his sleeve. He sniffles as his eyes catch the light of a passing car, it slows down near him. Stranger danger flashes through his mind and it turn to Till briefly wondering if he'll be kidnapped or something.
The car turns left, the corner he's standing on, and keeps driving.
Till thinks, he wouldn't be opposed to be taken far, far away, by any means; physically or... spiritually. He sees another car approaching, it doesn't seem to be slowing down the closer it gets to the corner, Till takes a stance in its direction, eyes closing and inhaling then-
Exhaling- pink hair, purple eyes and high-pitched giggles, firm pats on the back, and a voice so mellow he'd thought he had heard it in his dreams fill his mind, drowning out his bad thoughts.
Yeah, Mizi would be very sad if he went away, they planned a sleepover with Sua next week, to which Till agreed to be put in their clothes and do stupid tiktoks Mizi agreed not to post; Sua would be sad too, probably, even if she's still somewhat cold to him in general, the day he fell from his bike she was the first to run to him at the sight of his shirt soaked in blood, she thought it had been Urak's doing, and he knows she is the only one that can relate to that part of him; oh, and his favorite teacher Hyuna, who said she'll try her best to get Till to sing at the year-end school party because she loves his music; and even that weird upperclassman who sticks to Hyuna all the time whom he never thought he'd become friends with, Luka; they sing together during recess and their voices mix so well it gives Till chills every time he remembers how the air around them vibrates with harmony.
The car swooshes by and Till's eyes reopen, his eyes follow the taillights of the car. He steps back from the edge.
Art. He needs to put his emotions into art before he's drowned by them.
His hand opens the bag and takes hold of the first spray paint in line in a practiced, quick motion.
He turns around to the fence of the big yellow house, he has no clue who lives there, so it means they probably won't recognize him either. He pulls his hoodie higher up to his nose with his other hand as he starts spraying with a few test lines.
The paint comes out red.
He continues forming an oval, then a smaller one inside, then another one inside, it's an eye. He sprays the bottom lines downwards, waving his wrist, making it give the feel its melting down. Till steps back, taking out the next can up in line and putting the red back as the last in line. The eye seems melty, the concentrated paint at the bottom does its job dragging some droplets down, so it looks more organic.
Next is blue, he paints water inside its pupil and a moon on its sclera.
He looks for the white inside his bag, and brings light to the water, its moon and the eye itself. He's far from done when he hears a familiar siren go off twice, and he looks to the ground in a panic, the red and blue lights swirling on the sidewalk. He turns around slowly to find the police car already right behind him. No chance to run - to which he is no stranger to, by the way -.
He's not good at running, but very good at hiding.
The tinted passenger window rolls down and a smirking face comes into view, the man is leaning over the passenger seat to roll down the window and talk to Till without having to grab his radio and talk through the speaker at the top of the car, then the whole neighborhood would know there is a kid vandalizing. Till finds that gesture oddly kind.
"Hey there, kiddo." His tone is smug, and Till straightens up without realizing. "You know what you're doing is illegal, right?" Till looks away and nods. He hears a soft 'alright' and the steady purring of the car engine dies down, then the sound of keys and more dangling metal. Till swallows. "Put your hood down and leave your hands behind your head, 'kay?"
The man talks so casually, like he's conversing with Till, he's persuading him to listen, instead of commanding. That is somehow more terrifying than the screamers. Till can handle yelling well, like it's second nature.
Nevertheless, he obeys, putting his hood down, his messy grey hair shining under the light of the street-lamp, the moon new and invisible. The police officer gets closer and Till looks up, wide eyed; the man is huge. In every sense of the word.
"Officer- I-"
"You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law." Till's own voice is cut off by a low - not stern or imposing - voice. Akin to a siren call, he was feeling compelled, more than obligated. Till's lips fall shut immediately, a cop had never said that to him before. Is he in that much trouble?
He remains silent as his shoulders are pat down, that is before his lips part to let through a soft whine as the officer's hands start patting him lower. The hoodie is a little thick, so his pats are hard and purposeful, jostling him.
The officer looks down at Till, who hasn't been able to stop looking at the taller man's face, wide-eyed, scared. The officer's hands pat down his chest and Till's face flushes immediately as the officer retreats his hands after a harsh pat, apparently not expecting the softness of Till's breasts. Stupid promise he made to Mizi about not wearing his binder for more than eight hours.
Their eyes had been connected up until that point. Till's avert and the officer clears up his throat, his voice begins a little strained, "I sounded cool, huh? You have the right to remain... blah blah..." Their eyes meet again, Till's eyebrow cocks up in confusion. The hell is wrong with this guy? "You only really say that when you're arresting someone." He continues. Till stiffens, the officer's hands slow as they press against Till's hips, over his pockets, squeezing, then his back pockets. The officer's hands feel stupidly big against his lithe constitution. Till wriggles ever so slightly as the officer's hands pat his ass, patting under his cheeks and Till wonders briefly what could he hide in the crease that connects his ass and his legs that the officer seems to be looking for. His hands rest there as he looks back at Till. The officer notices his silence. "Don't worry, you're not going to jail." He snorts, his smile crooked, a snaggletooth pressing forward and distracting Till from the hands that remain over his ass.
This doesn't feel like his past questionings.
"Um. Is this.. uh, are you really- an officer?" Till asks confused, lowering his hands from his head down to his sides, placing the can he was still holding back inside his bag.
The taller man straightens back up, he looms over Till's humble height. Hey, there's still hope he will keep growing, okay?
"I'll have to take that." The officer ignores the question as he points to the messenger bag. Till is reluctant to listening to further instructions, his hands holding on to the strap tightly.
"I want to see your badge first." Till's eyes shine with challenge as aquamarine looks into red, the officer's lips curving further up.
"No." Simple. "Give me your bag, it holds what you used for that, right?" The officer's hands rest over his own hips as he leans forward, motioning with his head to the wall behind him.
Till looks back at his graffiti for a second. It's not even that good, it's incomplete, definitely not worth all this trouble.
"So what?"
"It's my duty to take the criminal object used." The officer shrugs, his blue uniform looked almost black due to the dimness of the street, his cap was obscuring his face, but Till could tell he was being watched like a hawk. No chance of escape, he wouldn't get far.
"And it's my right asking you to identify yourself!" Till exclaims, raising his eyebrows, a confident air that the officer seemed to enjoy by the pleased hum he lets out.
"No, it's my right to ask you to identify yourself. Which I will do, and then maybe, out of politeness I will tell you my name too." He was clearly enjoying their banter, which was pissing Till off, he would almost rather be at home. Almost. He didn't doubt this man was a police officer... maybe just not one that could detain him, since he's all... weird? Trying to act funny with a "criminal"? What is up with that? Was he just the cockiest bastard in the universe?
Till sighs. "Till." He lets out between gritted teeth.
"Sorry?" The other smiles.
"It's Till, you ass!" Till says, louder, his face flushed with anger. He quickly realizes the words that left his mouth and to whom he said them to; his eyes turn meek immediately, ready to apologize, but then he hears a rich laugh erupt from the officer.
Till stands confused and perplexed. The officer's handsome face contorts in a sincere laugh, his eyes closing in delight as his hand curls close to the side of his mouth.
"Aren't you priceless, Till?" The smile is easy on his face, and Till feels an odd sense of danger. The officer fidgets with his utility belt, taking out something rectangular. "I'm Ivan." He walks closer, and Till is about to back away when he feels something poking his chest. It's his badge.
"That's my police ID." Ivan explains, then points to his chest, a shiny metal emblem is pinned there. "This, is my badge." He taps it. "I assume you meant this, though. You watch too many movies." His know-it-all smile is infuriating. Classic adult in authority, looking down on him. Till snarls, embarrassed. Flushed from being humiliated, nothing feels more shameful than being confident in something that's just plain wrong.
Till takes the badge ID and inspects it. He can see the officer's face clearly in the old picture, unlike now with the cap obscuring his features for the most part. His hairline parted and curly hair on display, a confident smile and narrowed eyes that shine red. Till has never seen a police ID before, so even if it was fake, Till wouldn't know. Till decides that there is no other option than to trust.
Till gives the ID back after staring at the picture for a bit, specifically those eyes, it oddly reminds him of the dumb graffiti that got him into all this mess in the first place. Ivan feels that prickle of joy in his chest he gets when the cafe he's a regular at has the seasonal chocolate parfait; seeing Till's pursed lips and big eyes analyze what he can of his face, his information. He wants to bare everything for Till.
Ivan takes his badge back. "Crazy being born on Valentine's day." Till comments casually, that bad boy persona trying to crawl back to his features. Ivan loves it as much as he loves the idea of stripping him of it. Till is trying to distract Ivan with conversation so that maybe, he doesn't have to go to the station. But Ivan seems plenty distracted on his own.
"I wasn't." Ivan starts with that infuriating casualness that Till is starting to develop a visceral reaction to.
"Huh?" Till sees Ivan put away his badge and look for something else, but his eyes go back to his face as he keeps talking.
"Or maybe I was. Who knows, that's my adoption date." Something metallic clinks but Till can barely focus with the prospect of someone else knowing what being adopted is like.
"Oh- me too- I also," Till gasps, his eyes briefly holding something raw Ivan might become addicted to.
"I know, Till." He interrupts once more and Till's fascination dies with his next words and the edge in Ivan's eyes. "Now, face the wall, hands to your back. You're under arrest."
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Every day of Ivan's life was spent working to achieve what his adoptive parents wanted from him. To be a police officer in a high rank, to be a doctor with a stable position, to be a lawyer and then a politician. Those were his options.
He was fine with that. They had saved him from the pigsty that was the foster house he comes from. He didn't have to fight to survive anymore, he could take and take as long as he delivered back. He found that a lovely way to live.
He had no inhibitions, no desires, nothing. He could just be who his parents wanted him to and that was all. He was okay with a life like that. He really was.
So, when he graduated and was eventually decently promoted, he had no clue what else he could do now that he had achieved what his parents wanted from him. They didn't ask for more so he remained neutralized, living because he had to, eating little, enjoying less.
Until he came into the picture. Till, son of Urak, one of his father's business partners and, or rivals - he isn't sure, really, he cares little -.
He remembers the first time they met. Till was far too young to remember, probably, but Ivan wasn't.
It wasn't much more than acknowledging each other's existence, but he saw how - even as a little child - he stood up against his father, stood up for what he believed to be right. How even with ten years - or is it more? - between them, Till was everything he wasn't.
He was obsessed, stealing glances towards their table, watching the little guy in a small suit, toying with his food, scratching at the plate because it pissed his old man off, it was wonderful.
And so it started.
Ivan had developed a purpose. He now had inhibitions, desires and plans. He was patient and he could wait until they met once more without forcing himself on to Till's life. He had a plan, he continued working, manipulating, pulling strings, striving to have more power. So much, he could take in any role he desired, one where he could support Till with when he eventually got tired of living with that piece of shit Urak. Because Ivan researched as much as he could, and he knew the bastard of a dad Till had.
From reading most news stories featuring Urak, to asking his father about their rivalry and partnership, and even checking his dad's PC for information. Eventually Unsha stopped knowing what to say about their business relationship and started telling Ivan about their interpersonal encounters, and Till started appearing in the stories too, Ivan zeroed in on as much knowledge as he could get of his star. Till likes music and art, he likes alternative fashion, he is "useless" (translation: he doesn't want to be part of their business), he is barely passing school. He got piercings and looks like a hobo. All the stupid shit Urak says, and Unsha repeats, were the food Ivan consumed.
He started parking his off-duty car at a safe distance from his high-school, and watched as he leaves with two other girls, which he took the time to question the pink-haired one, he learned her name and her ability to talk at incredible speed when she's nervous. She talked about Till too.
As time passed, he had started to become more and more greedy. Waiting for Till wasn't enough to live, hearing other's talk about Till wasn't enough, watching him play guitar during lunch period at school or following him home just to see his lips moving as he sung all the way to the bus stop wasn't enough.
Rapidly stroking himself inside his car as he watches Till laugh so hard he spits out his drink during recess wasn't fucking enough anymore.
He transferred to his area's county.
Till was famous at the station. He's a problem child who runs away when he hears police sirens, who sprays officer's faces with spray paint, a little menace with a dad so powerful everyone was scared of properly arresting him because the moment the looked Till up in the data base they would see who his father was.
But Ivan wasn't afraid, and he knew something the other's didn't. Urak doesn't care about Till.
As far as he was concerned, Till was a gorgeous graffiti artist with an ability to get away.
Oh, but the moment Ivan gets his hands on him, he isn't letting him get away ever again.
So when the station got the call from a kind old lady who sees from her porch a young hooded figure spray painting away a fence of her neighbor's, he dismissed the officers that were about to get on the case and he took it himself to fetch his prize.
He was burning with joy, he was dying to see Till up-close again, after eight years of dreaming about this day, his pants felt tighter the second he saw his beloved on the street, oblivious to his presence. Ivan took a second to admire his ass in those jeans, the way he tip-toes to reach higher up the wall, the smears of paint on his jeans and hands.
God, he couldn't wait to see his gorgeous face and eyes, finally after so many years of allowing himself nothing more than his silhouette.
Till didn't disappoint. His challenging eyes, sharp tongue, only got more beautiful and demanding with age. Ivan wants to die from his words. Being with Till so close to him was proving to be a difficult task, he didn't want to scare him... however he was doing a poor job of pretending this is a stranger, because this is no other than the object of his desires and goals.
Now, with Till facing the wall and that gorgeous tight ass on his acid-wash jeans Ivan feels himself drooling at the corner of his mouth where his snaggletooth presses down.
Ivan takes Till's wrists and he hears him groan, in annoyance or pain, Ivan thinks the former.
"Is this really necessary?" Till starts to talk, his voice is strained and he is obviously scared or infuriated, probably both.
"Absolutely." Ivan smirks through his lie. He is shameless, or at least for Till he feels so.
Till flicks his wrist and it swifts from Ivan's hold. Ivan's brow raises as he looks at Till, he's already looking back over his shoulder.
"This is not my first time doing this, you know, and I have never been... a- arrested, I guess. Why now?" Till's brows knit together and his tone gets wobbly, holding back. Ivan feels his chest tingle,
"Oh Till, resisting is a criminal charge too, you know." Ivan leans in placing his lips against the other's ear, pushing Till's chest harder against the wall and forcing Till to turn his head to the side so his cheek can press against it instead of his face. Till feels Ivan's chest against his back, and he tries to take a deep breath but he's restricted. "Stay still now." Ivan's words tickle his ear and neck and he squirms in place.
"Weirdo." Till bites back, only he sounds breathless and weak. Ivan's cock twitches in his pants. Oh, this is bad.
Ivan separates enough to hold Till's wrist tightly and put the metal cuffs around them. He didn't put them half as tight as he would on a real criminal but he could still see the pain reflecting on Till's expression.
He grabs Till's arm and tugs him away from the wall and in the direction of his car. "Let's go!" He chirps like it's a field trip.
Till opts for silence, his brain working every single possible escape route. He comes up with one and a half. The half one involves death, so he isn't too sure it's viable.
Before he realizes, he's being pushed onto the passenger seat of Ivan's police car, and maybe Ivan is right and Till watches too many movies but he thought criminals always go on the back of the car.
From all the rough display earlier Ivan actually holds the door open for him and makes sure he's safe and as comfortable as he'll get before grabbing the seatbelt and leaning over Till, clicking it in place. Till gets a whiff of the man's cologne, and Till usually hates manly smells because they all resemble his father's to him. However, with Ivan's Till almost feels grounded. Ivan's smell is calming, lavender and something else he's never smelled before.
Till snaps his eyes open, realizing Ivan is still hovering over him, letting Till smell. Till flushes dark red as Ivan shoots him a knowing smirk, his eyes narrowing in conspiracy before he retreats, closing the door.
Till's shoulders sag. Just now feeling how tense he has been. He breathes out in relief, finally alone, the dull buzzing of silence aiding his rushing mind. Now, able to process his feelings in quiet in the short time he has alone as Ivan rounds the car and gets in too, he feels he's not as scared as he thought he might be when put in handcuffs.
He's uneasy. More so by the officer's personality than by having been detained, and the fact that they will call his dad at the station... fuck.
Not today.
After the explosive argument they had, Urak might pick back up his old habit of beating him.
Till swallows, hard. The memories so all-consuming he doesn't hear when the driver's door opens, only when it shuts with a thud. Till almost jolts out of his skin, the sound snapping him out of his spiral. Ivan notices it immediately.
"Are you okay?" Ivan tilts his head, eyes serious. It takes Till off guard to see any semblance of truthfulness in the officer's eyes, after being teased like he was. "Is the situation catching up to you?" The teasing glint was back, his snaggletooth pressing down on his bottom lip as his smirk starts forming.
Till scoffs. Yet the back and forth was the pace they had set, as infuriating as it was; and it was this little bit of predictability he felt in the situation which was oddly comforting.
He readjusts on his seat, turning slightly to look at Ivan, his arms already starting to ache from the position.
"It's just... what now? I'm thinking of what comes next, I guess." Till is hesitant with his words, unsure if he should reveal his worries or if they might be used against him. He doesn't think Ivan has any bad intentions. It doesn't seem like he's even taking this arrest seriously... so he might not call his dad. Maybe, if Till asks nicely, if he can get on his good side, maybe-
"Hmm, I guess now I have to call your parent or legal guardian. Let them know the situation, have them sign some papers, have them take you home..." Ivan trails off, forearms on top of the steering wheel, leaning forward, ever so casual. "The usual, no?" Ivan's eyes narrow once more, and Till swears his red pupils shine in delight with every twitch of Till's eyebrow.
He groans in response, head hanging low, he wants to scratch at his face, he wants to grip his hair, he wants to scream.
The silence must have stretched out too long because Ivan's voice was back on that lower, serious tone. "What's the matter?"
Till realized, Ivan hasn't even started the car. Hasn't put on his seatbelt. He's just there, sitting down with a criminal he has never met in his life, teasing the fuck out of him. Were all adults like this? Were normal adult men this... friendly? No. Corny would be a better word.
Hyuna was a little similar, he guesses, she used to tease him whenever he would shoot his shot with Mizi and instead got brutally rejected every single time, she ruffles his hair and pats his back with such strength he coughs up - and she really loves watching him struggle like that -. So maybe teasing is a thing adults do when they're not assholes like his dad.
Ivan is patient.
Till fidgets around, Ivan sees the cogs turn behind his eyes, in his brain. Should I trust this weirdo? written all over his face. Ivan knew he'd reach the right conclusion, he knows just how smart his Till is.
"It's um. My dad..." Till starts and Ivan feels his chest bloom with heat as he sees Till's teeth dig into his bottom lip, ready to open up. Ivan hums, acknowledges. "If he finds out he will- freak out." Till sighs, as if speaking about it made his lungs die out.
"I thought this was routine for you two?" Ivan prods, gently, not judging. He just wants Till to spill his insides out for him.
Ivan sees how Till's face becomes more sour the more he has to talk about this and he wants to lick up the taste off his features. "It's complicated." Till's sigh is shaky and for a second Ivan thinks he might cry, and god please, he wants to see Till cry up close. "He... I mean, we aren't strangers to the routine of him coming to pick me up at the station and stuff, but today I- I escaped. I left my house when I was supposed to be on lockdown." Till murmurs, eyes anywhere but scrutinizing red.
"Lockdown?" Ivan prompts, that's new information. He leans back, body twisting and facing Till's, mirroring Till's own.
"My dad, he... locks me in my room for certain periods of time. He usually does it if I did something really bad so he doesn't have to see me around the house. I used to leave through my window a lot, I stopped when I almost got caught by him, but I did it again today and finding out would make him even more upset, you know so..." Ivan can see Till's sadness through his crystalline eyes, the fog of anxiety and depression clouding the troubled teenager.
Oh, how Ivan wanted to help him escape, he would file the missing papers, he would declare him dead to the state, all the while having Till sleep snuggly in his bed and giving him the peace of mind he deserves.
"Wow." Ivan's tone is heavy, clearly affected by Till's admission of his home life. "I'm really sorry, Till. That is too much for anyone to deal with. Let alone someone your age." Ivan's hand places itself over Till's thigh, and Till doesn't flinch, doesn't move away, only looks up at Ivan, face unreadable.
Ivan's pupils dilate at the gorgeous sight of Till's tears streaming down his face. He wants to reach over and lick them, but instead he cups Till's face and wipes them away.
Till does flinch now, but doesn't pull away, his body craving the warmth and kindness Ivan's hands have to offer, and Ivan takes the opportunity gladly.
A large hand cups Till's cheek in its palm, thumb wiping under his left eye slowly, smearing the wetness of his tears, eyeliner smudging. Till sighs shakily, he feels pathetic crying to a cop, but if he thinks about it, he doesn't know how he didn't crack sooner.
Ivan's hand stays in place, thumb caressing his cheekbone, his other fingers tracing Till's jaw gently. "Hey, you're really strong. Anyone else would try to run away too, you know?" Ivan says softly, a bittersweet smile to his face that made Till's own lips twist upwards.
"I wasn't really trying to run away..." Till smiles weakly, bringing his sleeve up to wipe his own face and stifle his sniffles with the fabric. Ivan's hand moves away and Till internally cringes at how he almost chased the sensation, but the hand places itself back on his thigh. "I guess I was just waiting to see if anyone else would want to pick up a teenage delinquent and adopt him." Till shrugs, a soft laugh puffing out of him. Ivan catches the subtext immediately.
"You want me to adopt you?" His eyebrows raise, amused.
Till flushes and moves away slightly, Ivan's hand on his thigh grips him, making him stay in place. "I- It'd be weird if my dad put me in handcuffs, right?" Till's humorless, nervous laugh tickles Ivan's spine.
"It would be." Ivan's tone drops and he lifts his hand from the other's thigh, moving it to the key and twisting, bringing the car to life. "I still have to take you to the station though, I would love to keep talking. We can figure out a solution there." His voice is soft, almost too soft, bordering on unnerving.
Till swallows, his heart has been beating hard for a while, physical intimacy always does that to him, so it isn't exactly something out of character... right?
Till nods and readjusts his body so he's facing forward, he feels... at ease. The first time he has ever opened up like this to an adult and it went amazing. Maybe they can figure something out so his father isn't involved, maybe he will be able to sneak back home unpunished. Maybe this will go well.
Ivan begins driving. "You can trust me. I won't let you handle things alone anymore."
Till's chest aches in a weird way at those words, his tears threaten to return and he huffs softly a small smile tugging at his lips, maybe he should've escaped sooner, and found Ivan sooner...
Till didn't feel tense anymore as they continued their ride to the station. Till didn't feel like a criminal beyond his bound wrists. Ivan turned on the radio eventually and it was a station Till was familiar with, a song he likes is playing.
Till started to hum along, considering the situation, everything felt... calm, nice even. Definitely more so than car rides with Urak.
"You like that band?" Ivan sounds amused, a wide smile distracting Till.
"They're uh, really- well, pretty good." Till shrugs, but Ivan sees in his peripheric vision how Till's cheeks flush and he beams. "Saw them in concert once." He boasts, Ivan wants to squeeze him.
"Yeah? Me too." Till snaps his attention to Ivan's face, even as he remains focused on the road, he can feel Till's intense gaze.
"Really? You are into nu-metal?" Till sounds incredulous. Ivan can't help but laugh.
"Yeah I am. What? Gonna ask me to name three albums as proof?" Ivan turns for a second to see Till's reaction first hand, and when Till's laugh comes, it fills him with more satisfaction he though possible. He did that.
"Wow, maybe I should, you seem confident." Till giggles. "Which tour?"
"Unknown."
"Oh, me too, actually." Till gapes. "Saturday?"
"Yeah." Ivan turns surprised, he actually wasn't aware that they had been existing in that same space that day. What a wasted opportunity. "That day Dewey broke his guitar strings twice." Ivan's laugh is low and rich, Till feels elated. He rarely gets to talk about his interests with someone else who knows just as much.
Till laughs, "I remember!"
"It was the funniest thing ever." Their voices mix as they say in unison.
Both look at each other for a second too long. Ivan's gaze returns to the road and Till's lips fall shut. His mind races. Talking with Ivan feels like a second nature, like a push and pull he has always known.
Or maybe always longed for. The feeling akin to finding something you thought you lost.
He doesn’t go out of the house much, huh?
“I actually got a DVD signed by them.” Ivan’s voice returns.
“What!” Till jolts on his seat, the burning and ache in his chest from before present again, but pushed to the side for the time being. “Actually? You talked to them and all? I thought they had stopped meet and greets a few years back.” Till’s eyebrows raise, as if looking for the explanation himself.
“Well, they did. I got it before that.” Ivan chuckles.
“Right. Oldie.” Till cracks a smile. “Is it really bragging if by that you mean you’re pushing forties?” He laughs, and this is exactly what Ivan always dreamed of.
Till - preferably partially in bondage - in his car, laughing and poking fun at each other.
“Hey. I’m not that old.” Ivan’s tone holds no real malice; if anything, he sounds endeared. Till notices.
“Right.” A pause. Why is a random stranger so visibly endeared and affected by him? Seriously, Till feels drunk on the attention. He wants to talk more, wants to know more. “So… did you?”
“Did I what?”
“Talk to them and all.”
“Yeah.” Ivan flashes him a small smile as he starts turning the corner that’s just a block away from the station. Till would know that graffitied dumpster (by yours truly).
Till shakes his head in various directions, egging Ivan to elaborate.
“What?” Ivan’s voice is teasing and rich, it makes Till burn. “Want to hear all about my own rebel teenage rockstar years, kiddo?” He parks the car, Till is jostled by the stop and dying of the car.
“You were not a rebel.” There’s a pause after Till’s words. Ivan unbuckles his seatbelt and turns towards Till, challenging. Till is still in handcuffs, still buckled up. “I know your looks. A prim and proper boy with a silver spoon.” Till’s eyes shine with that delectable need to challenge the authority, and Ivan feels himself grow harder in his pants.
Ivan stays silent as he reaches forward, his face dangerously close to Till’s own. Till, caught off guard by the sudden proximity, freezes, closes his eyes and then-
a click, and a clack.
Till opens his eyes when he stops feeling Ivan’s presence so stupidly near, and sees the man carding through a mini album of sorts. Was that in the glovebox?
“Here.” Ivan turns the mini album, it’s a Polaroid picture.
Till leans in to get a better look, Ivan looks enamored at the top of Till’s head, his fluffy wild, perfect to tug on hair. His hand twitches with an urge.
The picture features Ivan, Isaac, and Dewey from All-In Rebz, the band Till has been obsessed with for a while. They’re not so active as they were a few years back - when Till was much younger and too Mizi-obsessed - and his jaw drops.
Ivan’s coat looks leathery, long, to his knees. A black turtleneck underneath, the sparkle of chains barely visible in the picture. His nails were painted black in that characteristic rock signature with his index and pinkie raised. His pants-
Till knows he’s staring for a while now, acutely aware of Ivan’s satisfied smirk and slow breath fanning the hairs on Till’s forehead from their closeness. He gulps, even if he wanted to look away and save himself some teasing, he can't.
His fucking pants, cinching his waist with a big buckle belt, and the denim fitting him so perfectly and tight that Till wonders how his balls weren’t popped in the process.
“Believe me now?” Ivan sees Till’s inspection coming to an end, definitely not missing how his eyes were practically glued to his small self in the picture the whole time.
"How-" Till leans back, sighing at the proximity break, only then realizing he was half holding his breath.
"Well, they're actually my childhood friends." Ivan places the mini photo album back on the glovebox of his car. Till catches a few glimpses of other pictures of Ivan in various outfits, all with the date labeled.
Wait. Childhood friends?!
"What?! All-In Rebz- both? Isaac and Dewey-? Both? Your friends of uh childhood??" Till stutters, arms jerking, unconsciously trying to emote with them.
Ivan's smile is blinding as he unbuckles Till's belt and opens his own door, he throws his legs out, turns "Yeah. Both."
He slams the door shut after he's out and Till's mind reels with all the possibilities. What's that theory that you are eight people away from your favorite celebrity or something like that-
Ivan open's the door for Till. Till slides and drops out of the car unceremoniously, looks up at the officer, who tilts his head curiously.
He's one person away.
They walk inside the station, Till's mind filled with fantasies of Ivan introducing him to Isaac and Dewey. It could be a reality if Ivan was his dad, if Ivan adopted him... he would have an honorable police man as his father, he would probably go to his music shows, would pay for his guitar classes too since he's a fan of the same music he is, he would support him, in every sense of the word.
Till sighs at his own fantasies, failing to realize where he was being taken. "You should reconsider adopting me." Till's voice is soft, he's clearly joking but there is that edge of some truth behind his words. It's funny because Ivan knows Till is think how convenient it would be to be so directly tied to All-In Rebz. Ivan giggles, as he opens the door to his office.
"I wonder how long you'll keep thinking about that." He means that more than Till catches on to.
When he gets detained, usually no cuffs are needed and he is left at the waiting room of the station, waiting for his dad to come pick him up - just a singular time, where he ran away and was caught he was put in a questioning room alone, but just while he waited - so really, what was he doing in the chief's office?
Ivan turns on the light to his office, shrugs off his coat and places it on the back of his chair, stretching his neck side to side and sitting on his rolling chair at the center of his desk, perfectly neat and organized, for the most part at least.
Till stands at the door, stunned.
"Take a seat." Ivan says like its obvious. Till's hands are starting to go numb from the position and the metal digging into his wrist bone. Till walks over to one of the two chairs at the opposite side of the desk where Ivan sits, Till is unsure where to look first, or if to look at all.
Ivan busies himself looking for something on his cabinets, so he ends up looking. Ivan's office is cold, dead in its decorations, nothing of what he would expect Ivan's space to look like after interacting with him for the night. It's shallow, void of meaning and personality. Not like Till views Ivan, and it almost makes Till feel like he walked right into a trap.
"Can you take these off me now?" Till's voice is small, fight or flight kicking in too late, he wants to leave.
Ivan notices the change, and even if, yes, he is a little obsessed with Till, really his boy is just an open book for anyone who cares to look.
"I will. Not yet though, I have to find your father's number." Ivan's voice is cold, he keeps it that way on purpose, he loves Till's fear just as much as he does his happiness. Till feels his chest go hollow. He glances upwards at the dull wall clock, it's analog, fuck how did those go again? Little hand to the...
"It's late. He won't answer." Till says abruptly loud although he doesn't seem to notice. The half cooked lied he tried to spew, too much work for his panicked brain. Ivan stops his rummaging through files in favor to turn and face his boy.
"That so?"
"I- I don't think he will. He has work tomorrow and probably thinks I'm asleep by now."
"What if he went into your room and didn't see you anywhere? Wouldn't he be worried-" Till raises his eyebrow, unimpressed. "-or at least waiting for you to go back home?" Ivan continues fake-looking for his file, he has its placing memorized by now.
"Ivan... Officer, please. You said you would help me." Oh, how pretty he whines. "You don't know... what he will do to me." Till swallows thickly, he hates asking for help, flushing at the vulnerability. Till lowers his head, and it pulls at Ivan's heartstrings. As much as he loves Till's teary face, he can get him to cry in other ways. He won't let Till cry due to anyone else that isn't himself after he's done with him.
The chair rolls off and hits the filing cabinets, leather black shoes enter Till's field of vision and before he can raise his head to look up at Ivan's figure now standing up a soft palm engulfs his cheek, he leans against the warmth as Ivan's own hand raises his face to meet each other's eyes.
"What will he do to you?" Ivan's eyes are unreadable, his voice soft, non-threatening. Something shifts inside of Till.
Having Ivan look down on him like this, is intoxicating, he feels drunk. Tied, behind his back, his face being held by this stupidly sexy man, because come on. It's been two years since he realized he's bisexual and his crush on Mizi was a desperate attempt at keeping his heterosexuality mixed in with the confusing feelings of a growing up teenager having such a supportive and kind childhood friend. She was and always has been his ray of hope in his shitty life.
But this feeling. This burning in every limb and every crevice of his body, this tangible want he feels being so close to this stranger-
Fuck.
That, plus being told to describe his fear of abuse, is getting his mind to short-circuit. He feels bare although completely clothed.
"He will..." His lips start moving before he commands them to, Ivan loves how his bottom lip trembles, how Till's eyes shine before they move elsewhere, hiding from Ivan's own eyes. "W- will-"
"Hey." Ivan interrupts, voice harsher. "Look at me." He tugs his chin forward a millimeter, if anything to catch his attention. Till's eyes are back on Ivan's own, and Ivan's face visibly becomes pleased. Oh.
"He will beat me. Punch me- my face. I'm- he's gonna hurt me until I- I-." Till sounds winded, his voice airy and hollow.
Ivan nods needing no further explanation, he doesn't want to break his new toy after all. His hand now moves to Till's hair and pats it softly, carding his fingers through the greyish soft thing that is his self-cut hair. Till closes his eyes and shivers when Ivan's hand lowers down to his neck.
Ivan pushes off the desk, no longer leaning on it, then he slowly descends to one knee, his height similar to Till's own in in sitting this way, now closer. Till opens his eyes, his breath catches in his throat at the sight of Ivan's burning gaze now at a similar level with his own.
Those red eyes looking up at him in adoration, like they did in the car when he laughed.
"What do you want me to do, Till?" His voice a mere whisper, he inches closer.
Till glances down at his lips, back at his eyes. "Help me, officer." Till whispers back in conspiracy and he shakes with anticipation.
Ivan smiles softly, genuinely, his snaggletooth catching Till's attention. Would that hurt pressed against his own lips?
The officer's other hand comes to rest on Till's thigh, gripping if only a little for Till to feel owned. The action makes Till straighten his back unconsciously, his wrists aching from the movement.
"Aw, my poor Till." Ivan's breath tickles his chin, and Till breathes in the other's exhale.
He feels dizzy; having Ivan so close feels so wrong, and gods if Till doesn't love doing bad things. Ivan slowly moves closer, the hand on Till's thigh sliding upwards the further he leans, Till's teal refuse to leave Ivan's red. Till stops breathing once he can feel Ivan's warmth radiating to his lips, his eyes closing tightly for a second, before shooting them open in realization.
Is he about to let a man who could be his dad take his first kiss? He'd be sealing his fate afterwards, no adoption chances.
Does Till even want to be adopted?
Having a father-son relationship with Ivan... is that what he really wants? Or does he want to feel this irreplicable heat under his skin? This magnetism that makes him want to throw himself at Ivan.
Ivan smirks. Till is so fucking delicious, his mouth waters at the sight of his little body trembling just a few inches from his own. He wants to devour Till as he watches the conflict in his eyes. But all in its due time. Ivan puffs out a single laugh, restraint, Till squeaks low in his throat as the sudden gush of air hits right between his sealed lips. He parts them, and he feels Ivan leaning over his thighs.
But instead of the pressure he expects to feel on his lips, or even the hand between his legs where he wants it, he feels them continue up his leg to his hip and back, taking his bound wrists with it, his other hand coming to aid the first, he unlocks the handcuffs and Till moans from the unexpected release from pain.
The blood rushing to his cold hands hurts, the place where the metal dug into skin and bone hurts, moving them hurts. Till's grimace is adorable yet it doesn't save Ivan from how his senses start to come down on him.
He has been on a high since he could interact with Till, but fucking god, he was about to take Till's first kiss - he knows for a fact it is, don’t ask -. Till seems unsure, he was only asking to be rid of his cuffs before Ivan started with the mind games he's fantasized about putting Till through time and time again in the privacy of his room with his hand down his pants while his other holds his phone, looking right at one of the sixteen good quality pictures he has of Till.
His world has been revolving around Till since the moment they met, but for Till, he is a strange man. A weirdo who wants to take advantage of a teenager, a child. Ivan's breath comes out shaky as he retreats, down on his knee properly once more, safely away from Till.
What a pathetic man Ivan is, just now starting to feel guilty after selfishly taking from Till. His time, his secrets, and almost his first kiss.
"Better now?" Ivan's voice is tight with restraint and guilt, Till's pained whimpers doing little to calm his bulging erection.
Till's eyes look at the man confused. Ivan was clearly about to kiss him, wasn't he? And he was about to let him too. What changed? What did Ivan see to suddenly take it back?
Till stays quiet, his aching wrists resting on his lap. He lost confidence, his mind busy withwhy?.
Ivan, selfish and despicable, insatiable for Till and wanting to give in to every one of his whims, takes his sore wrists in his bigger ones, carefully pulling them towards him. Till whines in pain, and then gasps as Ivan's soft lips kiss the protruding bone, another kiss to the outside of each, and a final kiss with a subtle lick to their inside.
Till's ears heat up, not only he's flustered but he's starting to get angry too.
Ivan's behavior is inconsistent, he pulls and pushes, it was comforting verbally but his actions are messing Till up inside, getting him more emotional than he's comfortable admitting even to himself.
"Will you actually help me...?" Till whispers his question, letting Ivan hold his bruised wrists while they talk.
"I will, with anything you need. I won't call your father. I can drop you off at home and... you can't forget about tonight." Ivan offers, his voice just as small as Till's. Till's brow furrow further. Is he serious?
"What. So you're just like every other adult?" Till doesn't vocalize properly the words, trying to contain the venom behind his gritted teeth; making Ivan’s eyes widen. Ivan’s mouth opens to excuse himself, he will say anything, but he can’t bare the idea of Till hating him- Till interrupts with, “You take, I bare my soul and you just- you play with me, you don’t take me seriously.” Till’s voice is tight, and his mumbles are barely understandable, but Ivan understand him loud and clear.
“Till- I- I’m sorry, I do take you seriously-“
“Then why?” Till’s voice gains volume as leans forward once more, Ivan flinches back.
“Why... what?” Ivan gulps, still holding Till’s hands; eyes still hypnotized by Till’s own.
“Why did you- stop…?” Till’s eyebrows remain furrowed as his voice dies down towards the end of the sentence. Ivan sees Till’s cheeks tint, his eyes wandering elsewhere, shy and so sickly sweet. "You were going to k-"
Till's lips fall closed. Like the wrongness of their relationship and actions won't let him continue, but he doesn't have to, because Ivan's resolve already broke. He swings forward, trapping Till against the backrest of the chair and Ivan finally feels Till's lips against his own.
Till's lips are slightly chapped, he knows he bites them when he's feeling anxious, they feel so much smaller, and warm and gods Ivan wants to devour him. However, he sticks to his plan. He knows better than anyone just how illegal this is, and he isn't sure when his barely-there morals started mixing with his feelings for Till.
The peck lasts a few seconds, their lips unmoving, Till's lips too tight to really be able to feel Ivan's own mouth properly, but hey, it's his first kiss, alright?
Ivan separates slightly, letting Till breathe, and he internally coos at the notion of the smaller keeping his breath.
"That what you wanted?" Ivan's whisper fans against Till's lips, and he opens the eyes he doesn't remember closing.
"No." Till's voice is soft regardless of his answer, and Ivan's eyes narrow in delight, what a greedy little thing. "That was barely a kiss." Ivan can't help but cackle at this.
"And what do you know about kisses, hm?" Ivan's hand comes up to brush some of Till's wild hair out of his face, tousled when he was pushed back by Ivan. His big hands remain on Till's cheeks, anchoring him to reality, this is really happening, he really just kissed someone, a grown up, a sexy band-nerd officer.
Till scowls, a soft pout forming, oh, how Ivan wants to bite his lips, make him bleed to lap it all up. "I know you're supposed to use tongue." Till says boldly, meekness forgotten, eyes hard with determination.
"Alright then, if I kiss you like that, will you know what to do?" Ivan licks his lips involuntarily, already imagining the sweet taste of Till's saliva on his tongue.
Till seems to think for a second, surprised that Ivan would actually consider it, because he feels elated to not be treated like a dumb child that doesn't know what he wants. He knows what he wants. Always has.
"Yes." His voice is a mere whisper again, sure but small, and Ivan smiles endeared. He nods his acknowledgement as he starts leaning in once more, Till exhales shakily as he braces himself for his first real kiss.
Ivan's hands never left his face, and eventually his own hands found Ivan's chest by the fated moment Ivan's soft lips start melting into Till's own, Till's face instantly heats up, pursing his lips softer than he did before, following Ivan's lead in just touching their lips to one another, then, Ivan's lips move against his own, and Till can't help the exhale that leaves his nose.
His mind feels numb. This is so delicious.
"I don't see you leading much, baby." Ivan groans between their contact, having Till so soft and submissive in his grasp is everything he ever wanted and more. He is so fucking hard he might pass out.
Till whimpers in shame, his hands gripping Ivan's uniform and wrinkling it with the force of his need. "Whatever, you do it. I- just-"
"Nu-uh." Ivan interrupts and he swears he sees Till's eyes water as they widen. "Come on, show me that knowledge you were flaunting." Ivan's smirk is sadistic and with the liquid desire that runs in between his legs Till becomes hyperaware of how wet he is. Fidgeting in his seat, the fabric of his boxers rub against his cunt, he shivers in place.
Till's eyes look down between them, to his knees, Ivan's tummy leaning over it, he can feel the expansion and contraction with every breath.
Ivan wanted to be patient with his boy, but he can't help the urge to be dominant, the urge to have Till begging for him, so against his better judgement, he takes hold of the back of Till's neck with one of his hands and uses the grip to make him face up once more, the strangled sound that leaves his throat is enough to make this all worth it for Ivan, but he's a greedy sinner.
"Look at me." Once Till does, Ivan smiles widely, satisfied; that damn snaggletooth stealing the show. And Till discovers he loves making Ivan smile, he wants to be good, wants to obey.
"Fine." Ivan's eyes are intense, "I can't keep waiting anyway." He breathes heavily, and Till feels like he was born to be in this moment, watching this man get riled up. "Stick your tongue out, baby." Ivan purrs, that teasing smile ever present, and before Till even realizes he's obeying, his tongue already lolled out of his lips.
There's something about the hypnotizing cadence of Ivan's voice that makes his mind fuzzy, his core boiling hot with need, and fuck he has never wanted to touch himself more, Till thinks, he could come from Ivan's voice alone.
Till's hot breath drives Ivan insane, he wants to feel those little breaths over his cock, that sweet warm tongue taking his weeping tip so well until his inexperienced throat collapses around it, oh, god.
He takes in the sight of Till's face, peach cheeks and half-lidded eyes, tongue wet and waiting for his own. Fuck, the real thing is better than any of his wet dreams.
"Good boy." Ivan can't help but say, as he sticks out his own tongue and licks up Till's. Till tenses at the explosive feeling of euphoria, having another warm appendage feels so lewd, and even Ivan's tongue feels bigger than his own. Everything about Ivan is bigger than his own. The pet name and the actions quickly become his favorite combo.
Ivan licks up the whole expanse before sucking Till's tongue into his mouth, circling it around his own.
Pleasure explodes inside Till's core, melting his insides down, bringing heat lower and lower.
Kissing feels so good.
Till reciprocates the movement, moving his own tongue against Ivan's, gaining the hottest groan of approval known to man. He feels encouraged by this reaction, his small hands releasing Ivan's shirt of their death-grip and instead slowly snake his fingers up to reach Ivan's bare neck. The sharp inhale Ivan takes due to this makes Till's hairs stand on end.
Till never had any vices, never smoked, never did drugs, even if those were the first things people associate with him due to how he looks, but this... the sensation of Ivan's broad shoulders tensing, Ivan's hands creeping down his neck onto his arms, down his sides, pressing against his ribs with care and scorching hot need... yes, Till knows he's already addicted to it.
Bringing Ivan closer by the neck, the angle changes, Ivan's tongue reaching deeper into his mouth as their bodies keep gravitating to one another. Ivan barely has any restraint left by the moment he pops free from the far-too-lewd-for-a-teenager kiss they were sharing. Wiping the saliva dripping down his chin with the back of his hand, Ivan sees red when he hears Till's soft pants and whines.
"Good enough?" Ivan's a mess of his own, he can barely keep teasing with the way his cock is painfully pressing against his dress pants. But hey, he will be more than glad to drink Till's sweet drool like his own personal water.
Till swallows, at a loss for words, at a loss of air, ugh, he wishes he could lose something else instead. "No." He replies, like a mewl, like a small little thing barely resembling the brat that kept teasing him through the car ride.
"No? Even when you're such a mess already." His tone is dangerous, he knows Till will take on any challenge, he's seen him.
"Speak- for yourself..." He's completely out of breath, yet Ivan knows he's right. He is a mess.
So Ivan scoffs, takes in a deep breath and says, "You haven't seen the half of it."
And that might've been the final nail that sealed his coffin.
His coffin being a sexy, scrawny teenager with the mouth of an angel and the mind of a slut, the hands of an artist, and a heart that beats at the same time as his own.
"Then show me." Till's voice is suddenly confident again, and it would throw Ivan off were it not for the fact that he had imagined this encounter more times than the amount of numbers he can quantify logically, it always goes like this.
"You know what you're asking for, don't you." It should be a question, but Ivan's voice is so low and serious, even Till can understand that this might be the last warning he gets.
The smaller breathes to calm his nerves at Ivan's advances, he knows he's the one who's really carrying this forward, but he feels encouraged by the lack of pushback Ivan is giving. He feels as much responsibility for what is about to happen as Ivan probably feels too.
Till's next answer makes Ivan spring into action,
"I'll show you if you show me."
Like some sort of reciprocal secret. Fuck.
Ivan wastes little more than two seconds in moving back from cramping Till into the back of his chair, proceeding to getting up on his feet, wincing from finally standing on the knee he was down on probably for around thirty minutes.
He stretches upwards for a few seconds and grunts when his muscles uncramp. It earns him a small laugh from Till whose curious eyes don't dare to leave his latest infatuation. Ivan's lips.
The officer's bushy brows raise in question and Till's kiss-swollen lips part in answer, "You're such an old fart, it's funny." Till's smile shines so bright Ivan thought he went blind for a microsecond. His heart melts despite the meaning of his words. Ivan scoffs at the comment and continues his light stretching, lest he pull a muscle or gets a cramp in the middle of it all.
"Weren't you the one begging to have this old man's tongue down your throat just now?" Ivan starts unbuckling his belt, Till jolts at the clinking.
He would've never thought a policeman would be making him feel so unbearably horny, so disgustingly wet for a cop of all people.
How low.
"And the one asking the old man to show him just how fucking hard you've been making him too, no?" Ivan's voice drops once more, winking down at Till's wide expression, making a show of slowly sliding the leather out of each beltloop. Till's world tilts when Ivan pops the button of his pants, heat invading his head and spreading down his neck at Ivan's words. That's really what he asked for, huh.
"You brought me here in the first place, I-" Oh, how Ivan loves to make Till blush. The rose dusting his cheekbones making him more kissable and bitable than he already is.
"Yes, to call your father, Till." Ivan's grin revealed the dark truth. Till was never in danger like that. All this time, he has been manipulated by Ivan's insane mind and insatiability for all things Till. "I can still do that, if you want to call it all off..." Ivan is being sincere, he will stop if Till wants, but he omits the part where he will get into Till's head once more, and as many times as needed until he gives in.
The silence is loud in Till's ears as he remains oblivious to the dark truth, stopping seems vile and far more terrifying than whatever is actually going on.
His eyebrows knit together, "You talk too much." Till's bratty mouth spews and Ivan can't help the laugh that erupts from his chest. Till evidently doesn't like that and in retaliation his arms stretch forward, hands getting ahold of Ivan's hips and pulling him closer.
Ivan stutters in his step, almost tripping over and on top of Till. His eyes are wide with excitement and looking down to Till's blown-wide pupils, black consuming aquamarine, lips parted and wet from how much drool is pooling in his mouth. What a sinner, Ivan grins in delight.
The sight of Till's rosy cheeks and desperate hands tugging his pants down is almost enough to make Ivan come. Good thing he has practiced his whole life for this moment.
Till tries to swallow the lump forming tight in his throat as he slides Ivan's dress pants down his mid-thigh, they pool on top of his knees and his hands twitch on top of Ivan's exposed thigh. He looks so adorable when he's nervous, shaky hands and sweaty temple, sucking on the side of his bottom lip to self-pacify, Ivan can't get enough of him.
"It's okay." Till twitches as the other suddenly speaks, although quietly. Then comes Ivan's hand, taking Till's own hovering hand and placing it on the exposed skin below his black and expensive boxers, like Till had thought it would be. Ivan's skin is surprisingly smooth, cold too, for someone so flushed and so hard.
Till's fingers spread over the expanse of Ivan's skin, his index fingers hooking under the elastic on the leg, fucking tease.
Ivan groans at the heavenly feel of Till's little hands, calloused from playing guitar, and bitten from nervous tics.
Meanwhile, Till's eyes can't really focus on anything else but the way the front of Ivan's boxers tent, the wet spot at the top, the faint smell of musky lust that is starting to fog his brain, his mouth keeps watering, and he can't swallow quickly enough to keep up.
"I want to... suck it." He surprises himself with how meek he sounds, Ivan doesn't seem surprised.
"You think you can take it?" The words piss Till off, glaring upwards and pursing his lips in an annoyed look that really only serves to give Ivan the hardest cuteness aggression; he copes by balling his hands into a fist as tight as he can.
"You keep talking too much. I'm going to walk out on you." Till's hands slide upwards to the elastic of his underwear, Ivan shivers at the gentle touch, it tickles.
"Hah. You're detained, you can't just walk away." Ivan swallows hard, fuck, fuck. Till is about to suck him off, Till wants to suck him off. Fuck. He's starting to lose himself.
"Don't test me." He yanks the boxers down, Ivan's nine-incher slapping upwards under his belly button, one of the elder's hands hold his own shirt up for a better view of Till's thick, wet lashes blinking incredulously. "I would...-" The words die on Till's tongue as he's presented with the first male cock he has ever seen in his life. He feels his cunt pulse the more he looks at it, this is really bad isn't it?
Ivan is tearing at the seams. "Gonna- stare at it all night, or what?" He pants out. Fantasies of coming down Till's throat and the blissful feeling of Till's stuttering breathing fanning the sensitive skin of his underside, driving him crazy.
Till just can't help but look, it's veiny and thick, it smells of something unfamiliar, it's... scary. It's scary how turned on he is.
Till doesn't grace Ivan with a response before raising a hand from his hipbone and Ivan hasn't even been touched but just the prospect has him sighing in relief, and the first touch of Till's nimble hands has him straight up moaning.
The sound racks through Till's body and shakes him to his core, the hand holding Ivan's shaft shakes as he tests how it feels to rub it up and down, hand flat, not yet grabbing it.
The touch feels so innocent and small it reminds Ivan the huge difference in their experience, their age, their everything and if it doesn't drive him up the walls.
Calloused fingers wrap around the thick shaft properly, his fingers are nowhere close to meeting around, he realizes, so he rubs his thighs together at the prospect of being filled with it, he wants to be touched or at least some friction, instead he's met with the reality of how he soaked through his boxers, thighs sticky too.
Ivan shudder's in his beloved's grasp, rutting up shallowly into Till's hand every time he slides the hand up. It's a little dry, and too slow for his liking, but he lets Till explore the crevices and veins before he grabs his wrist to stop him.
He flinches on his seat like a kicked puppy, finally tearing his gaze from his newer fascination and looking up into Ivan's red.
"Baby- You're driving me crazy." Ivan swallows thickly, hard, he feels like his insides are too hot for his skin, he wants to burst. And he wants to do it inside Till's bratty mouth. "You done poking it? You said... you were going to suck me off, taking it back already?" Ivan's smile was weak, Till could see how his eyes looked less gentle, less teasing, they looked raw, like a predator holding themself back to not scare their prey.
Till was definitely prey, as his heart races even quicker, beating so hard he fears his ribcage won't be able to take it. He was starting to see the cracks on Ivan's mask.
"I- You think.. it's gonna fit?" His words are so soft and beautiful and Till looks so hot and filthy, bright red and sweaty and poking his own lips with the hand that was holding Ivan's cock just seconds ago.
"I'll make it fit." Ivan's smile is manic, and it's so much hotter than it should be. "Open up."
Till hesitates for a second, then two. But Ivan can't have that, he needs Till's mouth wrapped around him stat.
So he takes his fingers and plunges them into Till's mouth with raised brows of pleasure. His mouth is so wet and warm, he can only imagine how wet and warm his pussy must be. Shit.
"Till, I said open." He spreads his two fingers wide inside Till's mouth, poking each cheek from the inside as Till chokes in his own saliva, lips tightly closed around the digits that swirl around his tongue and make him feel so hazy. Maybe he has an oral fixation.
Let's put that thought to the test, already.
Till finally smacks his lips open, drool cascading from his lips to his chin, what a debauched doll, all for Ivan to take.
Till's aquamarine looks up, waiting for Ivan's cock with a wide mouth, sticking his pretty pink tongue out. Virgin, but definitely a slut. His eyes begging Ivan to take the lead, after all he's just a kid. Ivan groans as his hand grabs his cock, pumping it twice as he stares down at the sinful image of his Till.
"Good boy." Are the first words that leave his lips through a hiss the second his weeping tip makes contact with Till's tongue, it flinches with the taste, it's... salty. Not at all unpleasant. Till moans at the name, completely muffled with the huge dick plugging his mouth.
Ivan spreads his legs some more as his hand keep his dick steady, pushing its head into Till's wet cavern. It gets stuck on the sides of his lips, the girth stretching his lips open once it pops through the resistance. Ivan hisses as Till's teeth bump slightly with the top of it.
"Ngh, watch your teeth, kiddo." Ivan's other hand comes to caress Till's messy hair, messier after making out with the man. "Breathe through your nose. Pat my thigh when you feel ready to take more." His tone is reassuring, it would be sweet were not for the fact of the very illegal situation they're in right now. Till does not care, he wants this moment to last forever; Ivan loves this, he was born to make Till his.
Despite that, it isn't sweet.
It's rotten, and filthy. They're ruining each other further. They can't be anything but that.
For the first time obedient, Till does as instructed. Breathing through his nose, relaxing his jaw. The hand in his hair is comforting, so much so he thinks he might fall asleep with Ivan's cock nestled between his lips.
When the awaited tap on his thigh comes, Ivan opens his eyes and looks down; Till's eyes are scrunched close, spit is dribbling down his cock and onto Till's chin, chest rising and falling with his deep breaths. Ivan got so lucky.
He starts thrusting, slow, testing where Till's limit is at. It's at a little less than half his length when Till's hands start pushing at his thighs, his eyebrows tight with effort. The devil on his shoulder wants him to keep pushing; make him gag and choke, but the angel says Till is totally capable of biting his dick off if he does that. Ivan agrees with the latter.
He rocks his hips back, and then forward, and back, and forward. Till's mouth grips him like a vice, his tongue twitches against the underside and has him seeing stars when he pushes against the velvet where his throat starts. Ivan throws his head back in pleasure, letting his rhythm speed up slightly, making Till's mouth squelch which each push.
Thank god it's late, he would be the one detained and in jail if his subordinated saw him like this. Or anyone.
The younger feels at the verge of collapsing, his jaw hurts and his tongue feels heavy inside his mouth, and he loves it. Each gag makes tingles rush through his neck, each push makes drool escape the corner of his lips, each groan Ivan lets out makes his hand twitch with the need to rub his clit.
"Oh. Till, I'm close, baby." Ivan groans, his hand carding through the teenager's hair and gripping him in place. The pull is nice and grounding for Till. "Just like that, move your tongue a little more."
Till whines in exhaustion yet complies. Swishing his warm tongue side to side, Ivan sees white, molten lava dripping from his core to his balls. "Fuck, yes. A little more... I'll fill up that slutty mouth, baby boy." He barely realizes he's rambling, but old habits die hard, and he's been talking to the air pretending it's Till with him in every jerk-off session he's had thinking about the teenager currently sucking him dry.
Till mewls muffled, rocking his own hips back and forth on the chair unconsciously, craving Ivan to take his virginity. With this new found desperation in Till, he sucks experimentally, and the hollow of his cheeks gripping his tip was all Ivan needed.
Everything turned into static.
Splutter after splutter leaves Ivan's cock head, filling Till's mouth before he even has a chance to realize what's going on. Ivan's low, drawn-out moan is greater music to Till's ears than any of his compositions.
Come leaks from his mouth as he pulls back from Ivan's leaking dick. He coughs, and the sticky substance falls on the floor, his clothes, and the chair. Ivan feels sweaty as he pants, his neck feels hot, his balls twitch as more come sputters out onto Till's cheek.
God, this is better than any of his dreams.
Till swallows what's left in his mouth, cringing at the texture. He could definitely get used to it.
He wants to get used to it.
He's panting like a dog, leaning against the plush backrest of the chair, eyes unfocused and teary, Ivan is just as messed up, nevertheless he takes a moment to admire his boy before leaning down, hand gripping his jaw and pulling him into a bruising kiss.
Till fades in and out of it, he's overstimulated and understimulated at the same time. He clings to Ivan's shoulders, melting his own tongue into the other's. Isn't this love?
What a ridiculous thought both just had.
"Was that good?" Ivan murmurs against Till's lips, tasting his own release.
"Mmhmm..." Till nods weakly, "Was... for you? Good?" His voice is broken, his gaze barely focused, shiny with unshed tears. Ivan can't stop thinking just how lovely he looks.
"It was the best I've ever had." He kisses Till's forehead sweetly.
There's a beat of silence that stretches for a minute or two, just the sound of their heavy breathing as Ivan holds Till. Then comes his voice, now a little clearer, "That was the first time I've ever done that..." Ivan knows that. "It was... so good. I thought I was going to..." come untouched goes unsaid as Till flushes and hides his face in Ivan's chest, the elder's heart swells with adoration.
"Fuck. You're so perfect, Till." Ivan groans into Till's hair where he inhales his scent, kissing the top of it.
Till giggles weakly at the sensation, a gasp following as Ivan's strong arms take a hold of his lower half and lifts him completely up to his chest; arms immediately wrapping around Ivan's neck, legs securing around his waist.
Till flushes as he shakes with the effort his under-developed body was put through, and then flushes darker when they move, the spread of his legs makes him acutely aware of how wet and ruined he already is. Ivan can smell it, and the older swoons as he deeply inhales, a groan stuck in his throat.
Two strong arms set Till on the high desk Ivan uses for the sake of the ergonomics of his ridiculous height.
The desk is full of things Ivan throws in one of the bottom drawers without a care, slamming it with his foot; now with the desk mostly cleared, Ivan stands between Till's legs. Till sees Ivan's cock blooming to life again. Criminal refractory period for someone his age.
Ivan can't help turning into a sex beast for Till. He's everything he has ever wanted.
"W- What now...?" Till gets shy again, hiding his gaze from Ivan's own, the man eats up the way the boy looks sitting on his work desk, spread open and ready for the taking.
"Now, it's my turn to see you and taste you. Right?" Ivan's words are punctuated with the beautiful gasp Till lets out. Strong hands taking both his thighs and spreading them further apart until they're in line with the edge of the desk, he feels more lewd than he did with Ivan's cock poking the back of his throat.
"But-" Till's hesitance is expected, he is a virgin after all. Ivan has been ready to handle this, so he walks the short distance to have Till's face flush against his chest and whispers:
"What is it baby boy?" His hands trail upwards, his fingers hooking where Till's leg meets his crotch, feeling the wetness through the fabric. "Speak your mind now before you're a drooling mess again."
Till can only whine at the sensation, at the words. The proximity is making him drunk, so he leans away, exhaling through his nose as he falls back on the surface with little grace onto his elbows, the position effectively making his midriff hover over the desk so he can properly see Ivan.
van is pleased at the position Till assumed by himself, this way it'll be easier to slide his dirty jeans off.
"Nothing to say then?" Ivan prods, hooking his fingers on the loops of his jeans, moving on to make quick work of the button and the zipper.
Till's perpetual flush threatens to darken, there are a million things he wants to know, a million insecurities and a million if's that he would love an answer to. "Should I- call you something specific?" He blurts the most pertinent question in his mind.
Ivan pauses, and really, he loves how Till is made to surprise him no matter how much he has studied him,
"Like a pet name, you mean?"
"Yeah- you called me a few and I'm not sure 'officer' is one..." Till shrugs, looking to his side at the suddenly very interesting composition of the wood he's on.
The way Till's lips wrap around 'Officer' interests his cock a lot, however it really isn't a pet name, and he would rather not get hard remembering Till moaning his title every time someone calls him that.
Faced by Ivan's distracted silence, Till grows insecure, contemplates saying 'never mind get on with it'.
"How about... Sir?" Till says himself. Surprising both.
"Want to call me sir, huh?" Ivan immediately responds with that teasing smile that undoes Till inside out. He's so sexy, Till is stuck wondering when did he start getting so hot over men.
"Yes- I mean- If you like it too..." What a kid. Ivan loves this side of Till too.
Ivan really just can't wait any more to devour him.
He grabs hold of the offending jeans that are still on, tugs them down, Till gets the hint and raises his hips to aid the process. His boxers slide down in the motion too. "Nuh-uh. I asked you a question, so the answer is..." Ivan says as he tugs his clothes off completely off Till's body, not sparing him much more than a glance before turning around.
Till wants to wilt from the action, but he perks back up when he sees Ivan is taking off completely his own pants, shoes and vest. About time really.
"Yes... sir..." Till's voice is firm as he sees Ivan's bare ass come into view, the muscles flex as he admires the back of his legs too. He wants to be crushed by them.
"Hm." Ivan turns, pleased, and Till is suddenly blinded by the light of the room, painfully aware that as much as his heart clenches when he sees that smile, this is nothing romantic. He's about to get railed by a man twice his age in his public service office. This is as far from romantic as you can get.
His heart doesn't listen to his brain as Ivan spread his legs once more, his cock on full display now, dangerously close of his pussy already and it explodes in joy as Ivan goes: "My pretty boy... you're so good for me." With a soft pat on his hair, so full of adoration Till almost forgot he is about to take up a monster cock when he has never taken much more than three of his fingers in his life.
"Sir..." Till melts, he wants to ask for more praise, wants to cling to Ivan and hug him while he cries and asks what all these feelings mean.
However, he has little time, when Ivan is going down on his knees in front of the edge of the desk where Till's weeping cunt is perfectly positioned and spread. Till gasps at another human's breath near his cunt, at Ivan's eyes digging hungrily and seemingly trying to carve into his head the looks of Till's folds.
The look Ivan gives him when he looks into his eyes is too much for him to handle. His face explodes in redness and he opts to lie on his back instead, staring into the ceiling and trusting Ivan will make him feel good.
Ivan feels elated with being trusted, with having Till spread out for him willingly, wantonly. Fuck yeah, his folds are dripping, his hole clenching, and he smells like heaven. Like the virgin little boy he is.
Ivan groans and spreads his pussy lips apart to get an inside view, his fat clit pokes through the hood, clearly engorged and it twitches so cutely he can't help but tongue at it. Till's back arches off the desk as his moan drawls out, the expanse of Ivan's tongue feels so hot and wet over his already hot and wet cunt, he feels like his whole body might combust. Till's hips stutter, and Ivan tightens his grip around his thighs.
His tongue takes his time tasting the slick over his clit, between his folds, at the entrance of his hole, and down his taint, eyes half-lidded in pure ecstasy. Ivan might have died on the way to arrest Till and this is just his heavenly after life.
Till tastes perfectly musky, manly. The consistence is like Till's own drool, stickier maybe, it's already coating Ivan's chin as he works his tongue into every little crevice, and flicks it over his baby boy's clit over and over to feel Till's hips rock forward accompanied by those aborted little mewls of someone who's never known how it feels to be eaten out.
Till wants to be eaten out forever. Every nerve in his body sparks when Ivan's tongue caresses his clit, when his tongue wriggles over his hole, he feels like prey being eaten and he loves it. He loves feeling how he's being torn open, his hot, red insides on full display. He can't stop his hands from flailing all over the place, his small, painted-black nails scratching the polished oak of the desk, as he tries to preserve some dignity by resisting the temptation of ramming his hips against Ivan's tongue.
"Oh- Iv- Sir-! I feel...!" He chokes on his own drool, moving his head to the side and letting it slide down his cheek instead. The lights dazzle him and aid to the fuzziness. "Soooooo... good! Ah!" Till convulses as Ivan's thumb replaces his tongue over Till's fat clit, circular never ending motions make Till's lower belly liquify in seconds.
Ivan's own hips thrust upwards, he can't wait to be inside his perfect Till, but he knows an orgasm will make it less painful for him. He wants the soreness of afterwards to be good, he wants Till addicted, he wants Till to come crawling back to him. That way he won't have to be the one to force him back.
Till grips his own hair in pleasure as Ivan's big tongue laps him up, his thumb unrelenting, finally his tongue slips ever so slightly inside his needy hole, and Till moans so loud Ivan fears someone will come check on them.
Till shakes through his orgasm, whining and gasping and writhing in the overwhelming feeling of his first blowjob.
Ivan takes mercy on his boy, separating himself from the vice that is Till's pussy and inhales deeply, licking his lips and as much of his face as he can get with his tongue. Gods, Till tastes so good.
"Fuck, baby boy." Ivan groans, two fingers sliding up and down the expanse of Till's cunt, now puffy and red from the attention. "You taste so good, I wish I could eat you out everyday." And despite how out of it Till is, heavy breathing through the flickering lights behind his eyelids, those words still grip his heart tightly.
Yes, he also wants this everyday for the rest of his life. He wants to be Ivan's wife, his cockwarmer, his toilet, his student, his boyfriend, his son. Everything. He wants to be Ivan's everything so they only need one another.
He has never felt so seen, so understood, so loved in his life full of neglect and rejection. He could die from happiness.
Ivan stands, his knees creaking and complaining once more from the kneeling. Unceremoniously, he grabs Till's hips and line up his cock with his hole, Till looks alive at this, pupils blown wide and temple sweaty. "Ready?" Ivan's hands caress his hip bones, squishing the meat there, Till whines and exhales deeply.
"Sir, I'm a- um, virgin, so you better be-" Till throws his arm over his eyes to save some pride as he admits this. He's painfully unaware just how obvious his behavior is. Ivan chuckles softly, Till glares under his cover.
"It's okay baby boy. I'll be gentle... don't want you hurting." Ivan does want him hurting, but also wants Till to remember it nicely, he'll find the perfect balance.
Till nods his consent.
Not enough. "Look at me, Till." Till groans in annoyance and embarrassment, removing his arm ungracefully, eyes looking into Ivan's own, red consuming black with how wide his pupils are. "Are you ready?" Ivan's tip pokes his hole, and it's immediately electrifying for both, Ivan has no idea how he's supposed to hold back.
"I'm ready, sir." Till breathes, eyes closing back up, head laying back down.
Now that's good enough for Ivan.
He starts pushing in, nudging his hole open little by little with his fat tip. Ivan almost feels bad over how aware he is he isn't wearing a condom, he has some in his wallet, he could get them. He should get them.
"Ah- Fuck!" Till's back arches off the wood as Ivan's tip abuses his way through his entrance, and how could Ivan deny Till the feeling of his raw cock?
Ivan feels himself salivate, drool pooling in his mouth at the sight before him. Till's blushed crotch opening up so nicely for his cock, his legs tremble as his muscles strain as he spreads himself for Ivan, face flushed and scrunched upwards in undeniable pleasure, his chest heaving with every burning breath, perky tits rosy as every point of his skin seems to turn pink somehow, and he looks...
"So perfect, baby." Ivan groans, his voice tight and arousal more than evident, it makes Till's chest tinge with heat matching his insides which burn with the stretch. His body spasms with every inch that Ivan pushes inside of him, his eyes scrunched shut and breathing aborted as he tries to calm himself of the stupidly overwhelming girth that is piercing through him.
Ivan's tip rubs something spongy and Till's eyes fling wide open, about to throw a kick to Ivan's face for not even give him a warning, but the sight that greets him robs him of the willpower. Ivan's parted lips drooling down onto the floor, his eyes parted and skin gleaming, he looks sinful, straight out of a porn.
So his mouth just hangs open uselessly as the entrance to his womb is bullied by Ivan's fat tip, whines catching in his throat as Ivan's hips press against his own deliciously when he bottoms out.
Ivan groans in ecstasy as his cock gets gripped by Till's impossibly tight pussy. Of course, he would be tight, he's a virgin after all, but Ivan failed to calculate how much that would affect him. His lungs burn with the strain of remembering how to breath, the heat wrapped around him, pulsing in tandem with Till's heartbeat is driving him closer and closer to his orgasm, fuck, at this rate he won't make it past the first thrust without bursting.
A small hand flails, looking for purchase before he loses his head entirely to the sensation and lands on Ivan's own big hand. Ivan laces their fingers together, bending down to kiss the back of Till's hand and take a closer look at his flushed face.
"How are you, mh, holding up?" Ivan whispers, the shift in position making Till's walls flutter around him, Ivan has to reward himself for his patience, he didn't know he had it in him. Specially now that he is finally where he was born to be: balls deep inside his Till.
"T-This- You- are so ridiculously big- what the fuck." He pants out, his eyes half-lidded and brow permanently frowning. His heart stops and races at Till's eyes, practically dripping hearts for him. Ivan feels like he really died and this is heaven.
As if he'd go to heaven for wanting to fuck a guy twenty years younger.
Ivan chuckles, endeared by his piece of heaven. "I'll take the compliment." He keeps holding Till's hand as he retreats to his original position. Standing upright between Till's spread legs where they're joined. "You're so ridiculously warm..." Ivan's other hand caresses the soft expanse of Till's slightly tented tummy, looking for the spot where he can feel his cock buried. "And so tight." He punctuates the word with the push of his hand downwards where he feels his tip.
They gasp together and Till's eyes shut as his entrance squeezes hard, liquid leaking from him, he feels mortified, hoping Ivan won't notice. He thought squirting was a myth.
Of course Ivan notices, fresh, hot droplets now travelling down his own thighs don't go amiss.
"Hm." Ivan smirks. "That's interesting." He licks his lips, now with his dick coated in Till's slick, the glide is a little smoother, so he starts retreating himself, leaving only his tip opening up Till's virgin hole.
Till throws his head back in delirious pleasure, the movement caressing all his sensitive spots inside, he can't help but shake all the way out, his chest heaves, he tries to remember to stay sane.
But then Ivan slaps all the way inside and his limbs feel like molten lava, the universe around them reduced to nothing, his throat and lips are dry but he can barely feel them, all he feels is the ramming of Ivan's hungry cock against his soft womb, over and over and over and over and over and over again.
Till doesn't recognize his own voice as high-pitched moans are forcibly drawn from him with every thrust of Ivan's hips, he's dizzy and he is definitely addicted to the feeling of his cunt stretched wide open, gripping Ivan's hot cock. His hand tightens its hold on Ivan's own on instinct.
Ivan bites his lip, snaggletooth breaking skin with the force of fucking Till like he always dreamed, relentless and needy and possessive. And Till, made for him as he is, lets him live out his fantasies. He lays there and arches his back prettily, chocking on his drool, moaning relentlessly and the knot on his lower belly tightens, heat tickling him from the inside out.
He's going to come.
"Ivan- Officer- Sir- Mm, ah!" Till babbles, drool sticking his lips together lewdly,his hips rock against Ivan's own, fucking himself on his cock as he chases his orgasm. "Com-coming!" Till gasps as his body spasms, his velvety walls squeezing Ivan's cock, the older moaning deeply- the look on his face hungry and deranged, no better than Till's own expression. That's what brings Till over the edge.
Ivan holds Till's hips as he writhes under him, hiccupping through his orgasm, the way he tightens around Ivan feels as though he's begging to be bred, and Ivan feels tipping closer to the edge aided by the sensation and the thought of Till being his stay-at--home husband, pregnant with their child.
Till's orgasm is blinding, his head spins, his limbs move and jerk without permission, and his moans are so high-pitched his voice breaks towards the end, he wonders fleetingly if there's anyone else in the building. His cunt squeezes as he releases, having Ivan still inside as he comes is too much, but he endures it, feeling enamored with being used as a fleshlight.
A manic smile greets him once he reopens his eyes, Ivan pats his cunt like he would do his head, Till's sound of confusion is lewder than he meant for it to be.
"Good boy." Ivan repeats low and amused. "Just a bit more, yeah?" He resumes his thrusting and Till's mouth falls open soundlessly, like someone hit mute on him. Every single nerve is alight. "I'm- fuck- almost there.." Ivan groans as his free hand travels up and down Till's spread thigh, gripping the fat there, cock twitching at the way Till whimpers in delight.
"Mmm 's too much-" Till whines, sounding wet and spent, and Ivan has found his new favorite symphony: Till's broken moans and the wet slap of his pussy.
"Almost there, kid. Swear." Ivan grunts hitting deep inside Till, the younger clamping around Ivan tightly aiding his release. Ivan's mind flies high with the stimulation his body burning with the desire to release the tightness in his lower stomach, and he finds his mouth moving before he can stop it- "Wanna fill you up."
And fuck, the open mouthed moan Till lets out is something Ivan was definitely not expecting. Till liked that.
A full body shudder wrecks through him as his balls tighten, watery eyes look up at him and whine: "Yes- yes, fill me... ngh!" Till's voice is hoarse and Ivan feels himself losing his reason- he's come this far right? He should just-
"Fuck, Till, you're making me crazy, hah." Ivan chuckles breathlessly as his hands grab Till's thighs and push his legs forward, at each side of Till toward his chest, propping his own knee up on the desk to properly ram inside his boy.
Till squeaks at the position change, eyes wide with fear and arousal. "Wait-! Fuck! That's- no, no, I can't keep going!" Till's tears spill down his pretty flushed cheeks and if Ivan's phone was within reach he would definitely take a picture for later. He doubts Till will allow him this close ever again- he's pushing too hard and he knows it, but he can't stop.
Not when the grip Till's cunt has around him feels better than any of the sick shit he's done to try to replicate this feeling.
The mating press allows his face to be closer to Till's. "Want me to breed you hm? Well, you asked for it." Ivan replies, he knows he's being a jerk, but Till just blinks up at him and moans, no further opposition. Ivan smirks, he keeps going, "This is the proper position to breed a bad boy like you- you're always looking for trouble, well, you've found it." He moans, punctuating his words with the downwards slam of his hips, Till's walls pulse around him and the heat and wetness of it all is suffocating. He is so fucking close.
Till can't tell where he starts and Ivan ends, they're so, so close. He feels stupid every time Ivan's tip hits that soft spot inside him, white heat spreading in his chest with a primal need. All he can do is nod and mumble very slurred 'yes, yes, yes'.
Wet slaps echo through the office, Ivan’s dick throbbing, every second closer to his release. Till, beautiful Till, bouncing with every movement of his hips, the warmth and the sweet squeeze around him almost snapping his last thread of sanity.
Almost.
Smaller hand lets go of Ivan’s in order to wrap around his wrist. Till’s short nails dig on the skin as he comes a third time, the poor teenager frowns and gasps in pleasurable pain, moaning as his abused cunt leaks around its abuser, milking him for what he’s worth.
And Till’s frown was Ivan’s first love.
Every single limb tingles as every nerve comes alight and he almost, almost, almost was too far gone to pull out.
Till whines at the loss mid orgasm, humming once he sees Ivan hold his cock over his cunt as ropes after ropes of thick cum paint his pelvis and belly in white. It’s warm.
Red pupils staring onto his artwork, the way Till’s tummy rises and falls with each stuttering breath in an attempt to calm his incessant heart beat. Fuck, if he wasn’t a monster of greed, he could take this and live with it for the rest of his life, getting off on this night alone. But he had denied himself a taste of Till for so long because he knows, after tonight, there is no turning back. He will need his fill.
Ivan is snapped out of his thoughts once he sees Till sit up slowly, leaning back on his hands planted firmly on the desk, wincing in soreness. “Thought you’d come in me.” He’s pouting. And fuck, if Ivan hadn’t just had the most intense orgasm of his life five minutes ago he would be hard again and properly coming inside of Till.
Ivan genuinely feels his mind short circuit. Rendered speechless for a second, Till’s pout becomes more pronounced and all Ivan can do is chuckle in endearment. Which makes Till huff, crossing his arms over his chest, a whine ripped off his throat when he feels Ivan’s big hand ruffling his hair. “You’re such a kid.” And if Ivan’s perfect crooked smile wasn’t so dashing, Till would probably hit him.
“You’re such an old man.” He can’t help his own smile. Big hand drops from his hair down to his cheek and holds it tenderly as Till is kissed and left breathless. Oh, they're both so into that.
“Yes. I am, if that means I can’t risk getting you pregnant for real.” He shakes his head, bending down to pull his underwear and pants back up.
“I already could be, idiot.” Till speaks way too calm about it all, he really is just a dumb kid. Ivan isn’t worried, though, he’ll get Till a morning-after pill and drop him off at his house. He is the grown up. He will handle this.
Ivan’s smile soothes Till, because in reality, the idea of being pregnant, terrifies him. He knows Ivan has him covered. He knows he can trust him. Ivan will take care of him.
“Well. If that turns out to be the case…” He starts dressing Till back up too, having wiped his skin clean of his come with the handkerchief he always carries in his breast pocket, and if Till scooped some of it into his finger and licked it while Ivan was dressing himself back up, that between him and the gods above.
He wonders briefly if Ivan smokes or drinks.
Once he finishes dressing up Till he kisses the top of his head, Till feels warm all over again. Ivan finishes his earlier sentence: “…I’ll take responsibility.” He winks playfully, Till rolls his eyes and shoves him away, the older giggles, extending his hand for Till to hop down the desk. He does, whining as his legs and cunt pulse in complaint. Till can barely hide his smile.
And fine, he didn’t convince Ivan to adopt him, but he’s very fine with that. He likes this arrangement way more.
Till sits on the passenger seat, tapping his foot to the rhythm of the song on the radio. They announce the time and he bites his lip in worry. Two in the morning is way later than he thought it would be… he should get a wrist watch. Digital, obviously.
Ivan returns from the pharmacy, a beige bag is dropped on Till’s lap. “It’s best if you take it now.” He passes Till a juice box, peach, his favorite. Lucky guess, Till speculates.
Till does as instructed, taking the pill and downing the juice, he was surprisingly thirsty.
“So. You’re taking me home now… right?” Ivan doesn’t miss the dejected sound in Till’s voice. His heart shrinks, he wishes he could take Tiill to his own home.
“It’s pretty late.” Ivan reasons, starting his car back up, starting to drive. Till looses his senses as he stares out the window. There are so many questions he wants answers to, Ivan is sitting across of him yet he feels so distant. Was this a one time thing? He knows this is wrong. No adult should be invested in a teenager…
Is it bad Till wants him to be?
Till rids himself of nerves, it's now or never. “You… done this before?” Till murmurs into the silence, being met by the hum of the engine and the buzz of the low volume radio.
He regrets asking for a few seconds.
“You mean… having sex before? Buying an emergency contraceptive? What exactly?”
“Yeah. Um, all of them?” Till looks at Ivan through the reflection of the glass, Ivan isn’t looking back at him. Till tries to remind himself it’s because he’s driving, but anxiety worms at him chest.
Ivan huffs, amused. “Jealous?”
Till turns and shoves at Ivan’s side, making the car swerve slightly. Ivan smiles widely, looking back into Till’s eyes for a second. Till’s cheeks warm up again. He hates how easily Ivan makes him react like that.
Till gets no answer, and Ivan sees how he purses his lips in annoyance. He starts slowing the car down as they approach a familiar yellow fence, now they're on the other side of the street. Till peeks at what Ivan is looking at. His eye, incomplete, with smudges of when he was put against it. Ivan stares but Till quickly loses interest, Ivan's reaction far more enticing.
The older just smiles, melancholically, like it reminds him of something. Till feels like he's missing a crucial piece. "It's beautiful, you know." Ivan nods towards the wall art, looking back at Till sitting pretty in his passenger seat. Till smiles softly and shrugs.
"It's not bad. It's incomplete." He concludes. Ivan sighs deeply, and throws himself back against the headrest, Till only watches, afraid to break the moment, the enchantment.
"It's your art. I'd buy the whole house just for the fence." Ivan's eyes are far too sincere and Till, about to tease him for his corny words, only closes his mouth back up. "I could stare at it until dawn." Ivan's eyes return to the wall, and Till's hearts pumps harshly against his ribcage.
Ivan swoons with the way he remembers Till's movements as he paints, how every line is a testament of feeling, how every color and decision a proof that Till is real, the weight of his talent bared by his emotions. It makes Ivan want to cry.
Till doesn't know what to say. He feels like calling Ivan a simp might not be the best thing right now, but the sudden worship and vulnerability throws Till off.
Ivan continues driving without much else afterwards. He knows he's letting his mask slip faster than he would like to, but it's Till. He's real. He's sitting next to him. Shit.
“We're almost there.” Till looks outside and sees the very familiar neighborhood houses, and his stomach twists in anxiety and anger. This idiot might really just drop him off with no explanation or answers to what when or why. “I did have sex back in college before joining the police force.” Till turns to look at him, mildly spooked that Ivan might eb reading his mind. Ivan looks at him for a split second before turning his face back to the road, Till’s face is written with interest whether he is aware or not. “Never bought an emergency contraceptive before… and well, I can’t say I ever enjoyed sex this much before you.” Ivan slows down the car, pressing the emergency lights as they arrive Till’s home. "Or, at all, really." He can’t stop looking at Ivan though, not after what he just said.
“So- you’ll- we will- um.” He can’t bring himself to say it, but the way Ivan’s grin starts to grow tells Till he knows what he’s getting at.
Ivan takes out a business card. Chief Police Officer of Anakt District. Till takes it, eyes shining, full of tears he can't understand.
“I’ll be there if you want me to be. To talk, to get away, to get you out of trouble…” Ivan’s hand travels up to Till’s cheek, Till nuzzles it, relishing in the warmth. “…to cheer you on, or to kiss you all over…” Till's face is back to red, their eyes locked on each other’s. “…I’ll be there. As long as you want me there.” Till lounges forward, lips smooshing against Ivan’s. Ivan melts against Till, kissing back.
“Thank you, Ivan.” Till’s words tickle Ivan’s lips, and if Till asked right in that moment, he would find the way to skip town and have them both disappear. Just the two of them for the rest of their lives. Till unbuckles his seatbelt and opens the door, glancing back one last time before getting out, “Watch this.” He smirks closing the door.
Climbing up the neighbor's fence, stumbling onto his own’s houses roof. Ivan’s smile spreads as wide as it can go as he sees Till laugh by himself and look back to where Ivan’s car is parked, watching. Once Till is finally in front of his bedroom window, he sit on its sill as he waves to Ivan’s direction. Ivan flashes his car’s lights as acknowledgement, honking wouldn’t be to smart. Till enters, and before closing his widow, he blows a kiss, immediately after, snapping it shut and closing his curtains hurriedly.
Ivan sighs deeply. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath. He has no idea how he has lived up to that moment without Till.
He drives home, thoughts of grey hair and teal eyes making time fly. His phone dings once he enters his apartment.
Unknown number has sent a picture
ding.
everything hurts
The picture is going as his new background. Till in his cute pajamas, his tongue peeking out, laying in bed with his hair all wet and messy form a recent shower.
He’d give his life for this kid. Ivan will die loving Till.
I’ll make it up to you if you’re a good boy, alright? Sleep tight baby
Till stares at the message, lying on his side he feels how haywire his heart is going. Ivan’s profile picture appears at the top as the other adds him as a contact and Till instantly clicks on it.
Instead of his handsome face, Till stares right back at a familiar painting. Two hands that hold one another, one appears bloody and yet, it’s the one tugging the other hand. The landscape behind it it’s a mixture of yellows and oranges, a meteor shower.
Till remembers when he graffitied that. His throat closed up as he chokes on tears.
He should be weirded out probably, but he has never felt so seen, so loved and thoroughly supported in every way. The connection he feels to Ivan’s soul is unlike anything he has ever experienced.
He knows his life has been radically changed. He knows this might blow up on his face. Yet the amount of sheer happiness he feels exuding from him with every breath, makes that fact seem irrelevant.
He’s happy. Genuinely. He feels safe, he was saved.
Till finally feels like he has a space in this world where he belongs.
He finally has the right to remain.