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till shivers, rain soaking him right through his socks. he jams his key into the lock, fumbles with the door knob, and finally sighs as the warmth of his home pulses against his cold body. it wraps around him like sloth arms, cozy and fluffy and almost pleasantly stifling.
“till! you’re home!”
and here comes the true warmth of his home, the emanating rays of moonshine and sundust. his one and only, his husband by law and by heart.
till’s lips curve up, as they always do when he’s in the vicinity of his beloved. “sorry i’m late, ivan. got caught in the storm.”
ivan’s fang digs into his bottom lip, turning the lip deliciously red as blood flows through it. “you’re going to get sick. here, let’s get that coat off you.”
till shrugs his arms out of the sopping wet overcoat as ivan hurries with a nearby laundry basket. there’s never a shortage of laundry baskets in their house, not with ivan’s incessant need to keep everything smelling fresh and lovely, like blooming flowers surviving the worst of winter. ivan gently folds the coat as best as he can and lays it flat in the basket before getting to work undoing till’s tie.
ivan frowns, careful fingers slowly undoing the knot. “did you forget your umbrella again? i told you to keep one with you for emergencies.”
till smiles sheepishly at his husband, choosing to stare at ivan’s eyelashes and admire the way they fan out. “sorry, baby. i forgot.”
“tsk. you always forget, clumsy as you are,” ivan says, equal parts worried and fond. he loosens till’s tie, folds it and places it on top of the coat. before till can thank him with a kiss for taking such good care of him, ivan is already ushering him into their kitchen where the lighting is better.
“i don’t have a bath towel down here for you, but i have a hand towel. it’s small, but it’ll have to do. i can’t have you dripping water everywhere upstairs so you gotta dry down here.”
till is entranced. entranced, and also smitten, keen, horribly infatuated.
and of course, there’s only one reason for it.
he’s just so in love with ivan.
even while ivan putters around him, tending to the simmering pot on the stove one minute and then towel-drying till’s hair the next, till can’t take his eyes off him. he just can’t seem to shift his gaze from those cheeks, those beautiful apple blossoms with a sheen all of their own, and from that cheeky little fang, protruding cutely and shyly, and from those dark orbs, those big and beautiful eyes charged with a red in the middle that seems to gleam.
it doesn’t surprise till when ivan starts waving a hand in front of his glazed stare, because that’s what happens around a creature as infallible as ivan.
“tilly? you with me?”
it’s a testament to how long they’ve been together, because this isn’t the first time till’s zoned out while staring at ivan, and ivan is simply amused every single time.
till’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, besotted and loving. “hey, baby. just... i missed you. a lot. and you’re pretty. and i love you.”
till’s favorite pair of cheeks blush, and ivan has to turn away to completely avoid till’s gaze, embarrassed beyond belief. “till, stop. you always come home from business trips in a sappy mood.” ivan cleans up the last of the water clinging to till’s neck with the towel before kissing his temple. “i missed you too, tilly. welcome home.”
and ivan matches till’s smile, just as happy, much more stunning.
till’s so glad to be home.
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the next day finds till’s nose buried into ivan’s neck, arms wrapped around a small waist and ankles intertwined. the blankets are mostly on ivan’s side as he’s the best hoarder till knows and the only one who’s so proud of it too. but that’s okay because till’s stolen ivan’s pillow in return.
when ivan starts to shift in till’s hold, it’s his sign to let go and stop peppering kisses all over every bare inch of skin he sees. eventually, till’s sleepy husband is facing him.
“mm. tilly?”
oh, till is fond, fond, fond. “good morning, baby.”
those dazzling dark eyes flutter open, and till deems it the best day ever.
“good morning,” ivan yawns out. “did you sleep well?”
“i did.” till places a soft peck on ivan’s lips, reveling in the plush weight. “what about vani? did my cute husband sleep well too?”
ivan snuggles right into till’s chest, lets out a sigh of contentment that makes till’s heart race even after all these years spent together.
“of course i did. i’m with you, aren’t i?”
“cute,” till chuckles, a rumble in his throat that ivan can feel, deep and rough and scratched with laziness. “what’re your plans for the day? are you streaming or filming a video for the ivan fan club?”
“my youtube subscribers,” ivan says pointedly, smacking till’s arm lightly, “are waiting for one of my video game console restorations. i found this really beat up game boy color on ebay for five thousand won, and based off my initial inspection, i think i can bring it back to its former glory. i might even have to pull out the hydrogen peroxide for retrobrighting!”
the sheer excitement in ivan’s voice makes till smile in return. “i bet it’ll be as good as new by the time you’re done. you’re so good at what you do, ivan.”
and it’s the truth.
ivan’s following was slow but steady, as he posted infrequently but with quality videos that captured people’s attention. it also helped that ivan was pretty as hell, and pretty youtube stars always did well on the platform.
ivan was talented too, with videos ranging from cooking and baking to tech repairs to makeup and everything in between. it made for interesting and captivating content, and till knew ivan’s fan club (as he liked to call it) waited patiently for videos from his husband. till is not silent about praising ivan for his efforts.
the current words of praise from till make ivan blush, a pretty peach that dusts the high of his cheekbones. “i want to contribute too, you know,” he mumbles against till’s heart. “you go out and work so hard, and i want to help too. youtube revenue is unreliable, but it’s all i can do.”
till squeezes ivan’s arm. “and it’s enough. i know my job takes care of us well, but because of you, we’re able to enjoy luxuries we wouldn’t experience otherwise. trust me when i say that you’re doing more than enough for the household. if anything, i want you to relax a bit. you never stop moving once you’re up. i want my husband to never worry, to depend on me some more, to always wake up right by my side. if you can do that, i’ll reach peak happiness.”
“oh my god, you’re so mushy in the mornings. you were never this bad when we first started dating.”
“what can i say? i’m a man in love, and i’m proud of it.” till sighs, tries to suppress a yawn. “god, i need coffee. need to wake up a bit more.” he slowly lets go of ivan and sits up, stretches his arms and winces visibly. “i think i’d like to stay home with you today, vani. i get the day off since i just got back from my trip. great, huh?”
but ivan isn’t listening to till’s words. “till, what the hell? what is that?”
“hm?”
ivan promptly sits up as well, placing one hand firmly on till’s shoulder to keep him stable (and to keep him from escaping) while using the other to lift till’s shirt. he sucks in a breath, roving his eyes over the huge purplish-black bruise adorning till’s side. till stays silent, observing ivan. finally, ivan exhales, ragged and worried.
“till, what happened?”
till chuckles at ivan’s somber tone, gathers ivan’s hands into his own and presses a kiss against them.
ivan isn’t having it. “seriously, till. what the hell happened?” he asks, trying to wrench his hands free.
till doesn’t let go. he would never let go. “you’re overreacting, ivan. i’m fine. it looks worse than it is.”
“it’s as big as a freaking iron, till,” ivan says, narrowing his eyes. “tell me what happened. now.”
it’s odd. even though ivan is furiously fretting, till is so damn fond. his husband is so overprotective, till just wants to squish him.
“nothing happened,” he assures hushedly. “i was careless, that’s all. we went out drinking after securing a deal with some investors, and i had too much to drink. i knocked into someone and fell on a fire hydrant. not my finest moment, i’ll be honest,” till admits.
ivan gives till a terrifying glare.
in turn, till simply smiles, not fazed one bit.
“that’s all that happened? you’re positive?”
ivan’s tone is threatening, but till isn’t bothered. he stares straight into ivan’s eyes, teal meeting red.
“what do you think?”
ivan holds till’s gaze for a moment before ultimately relaxing, folding into the warmth of till’s body and laying his head on the other’s shoulder.
“you get hurt so often when you go on business trips,” ivan begins, voice small. “sometimes i think someone higher up on your team is bullying you, or hurting you. i hate it. i hate seeing you come home with cuts and bruises.”
till sighs, places another kiss on their still-joined hands. “baby, you’re too lovely to me. no one at work is harassing me, i can assure you. i’m just a clumsy idiot who sucks at self care.”
“not with me, though. i always take care of you and make sure you’re okay. oh, i know!” ivan lights up at his sudden idea. “maybe i can come with you on your trips. that way, i won’t miss you and i can make sure you stay safe.”
till’s heart burns. “i would love that, ivan, but i’m not allowed to mix work with my personal life. you know that.”
ivan instantly deflates. “your work sucks. we should move to seoul and find you a much better company to work for.”
“you would hate to leave busan and you know it.”
“...i hate that you’re right.” ivan shifts on the bed away from till, finally planting his feet on the plush carpet of their bedroom. “you wanted coffee, right?” he asks, smiling down at till.
“you’re the best, vani.”
till blows him a kiss, and ivan quickly catches it and puts it in his t-shirt’s frocket, giggling as he walks out of the room.
when he’s out of sight, till collapses back onto the mattress, closes his eyes, and tries to relax his heartbeat. he feels a tinge of guilt edge into his bloodstream, spreading into every part of him.
“i’m sorry, ivan. really.”
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“tilly!” ivan calls out from the living room. “did you make the popcorn yet?”
till sticks his head out from the kitchen. “it’s in the microwave. did you finally decide what we’re watching tonight? i want to know what to expect.”
ivan grins, evidently pleased with his choice. “descendants of the sun! we’ve watched it before, but i want to rewatch song joongki fight bad guys while simultaneously being super hot.”
“...should i feel threatened?” till asks warily.
“if you want,” ivan giggles, pulling up netflix on their television. “you should know you’re my number one.”
“aww. thank you, baby.”
“but song joongki is a close second, so watch out.”
“hey!”
till throws some hot-and-fresh popcorn at ivan and his husband shrieks when it falls through his shirt collar. “till, no! i just vacuumed yesterday!”
“oh, really? i should fix that then, shouldn’t i?”
till comes around to where ivan is sitting on the couch and kneels in front of him. smirking, he flips up ivan’s shirt and lets the popcorn kernel fall into the ‘v’ of ivan’s open legs. till places both hands on ivan’s legs, dipping his head down while making eye contact and grabbing the kernel with his mouth. two chomps, swallow. now till’s attention is on ivan’s creamy thighs.
till places a featherlight kiss right under the seam of his shorts, making ivan shudder. till is pleased by the reaction.
“you wore these for me, didn’t you? you know how good your legs looks in them.”
ivan lets out a ragged breath as till continues to kiss along his shorts. “these are my house shorts. i wear them all the time.”
at this, till switches thighs and bites down. hard.
“till!”
“liar,” till murmurs, taking the chance to hike up ivan’s shorts so he can continue showering his thighs with affection. “these are new. i saw you take the tag off them earlier today.”
as till suckles on the newly exposed skin, ivan arches his back against the couch, trying and failing to keep in a moan. “they’re, they’re my new house shorts. you’re just, ah, gonna have to get used to them.”
till nibbles at the highest bit of skin he can reach. “i like them. don’t get rid of them.”
“i won’t,” ivan breathes out. “but till...”
“hm?”
“the popcorn’s getting cold.”
till raises his head and pouts. “but i haven’t even—
du-dun.
at hearing the netflix sound, till turns his head to look at the television before sending an exasperated look to ivan. “did you really turn the damn show on in the middle of my meal?”
but ivan isn’t paying attention to till anymore, choosing to watch the opening scene of episode one instead.
till groans, loud and long, to make his dissatisfaction apparent. there is no effect. so till sighs heavily, once again showing how unhappy he is, before laying on the couch, feet near the arm and head pillowed on ivan’s lap.
on ivan’s other side is the popcorn, which he is happily munching on. if till tries hard enough, he can almost hear ivan’s tummy grumbling with each mouthful of popcorn. till tunes out the knife fight happening on screen and turns his head so he’s facing ivan. he focuses on the sounds ivan’s tummy is making, smiles when he realizes how fucking gone he is for his husband. everything he does is adorable.
so ivan watches a kdrama he’s already seen before and till listens to the soft symphony of ivan’s body. it’s a domestic, peaceful moment, only broken when ivan finally hums.
“you know what, till? you might have competition after all. song joongki is extremely attractive in this.”
yup. peace disrupted instantly.
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a few days later finds ivan pouting, brows furrowed and lips shiny with lip gloss. till aches to kiss the sheen away.
“you just got back, till. how long will you be gone this time?” ivan asks, inquiring and whiny at the same time.
till chuckles, already having expected the small tantrum. “one week. i’ll be in liverpool for just two days before heading to manchester.” he gives in to the insatiable monster inside him and kisses ivan’s lips once. “yes, i already packed my umbrella.” he kisses him again. “and yes, i will call you as soon as i land.” and once again for a bit of good luck.
ivan’s eyes are alight once more, brimming with happiness. “i’m glad you remembered the umbrella. the rainy season is awful over there.” he loops his arms around till’s neck, taps his forehead lightly against the other’s. “and if you don’t call me, i’ll throw out your cactus.”
“oh no, what a shame. one less thing to be responsible for. how ever will i survive?”
ivan grins at till’s dry tone. “you’ll call me.” it’s stated more than asked, confident and assured.
“i said i would, didn’t i?” till removes himself from ivan’s hold, earning yet another pout. “promise me you’ll behave yourself while i’m gone. no causing trouble at the grocery store like last time.”
ivan huffs. “those prices were outrageous and you know it. the least they could’ve offered was to price match. and don’t worry, i’ll be the first to tell you if i fight another guy at the meat market. i’ll probably win though. i’m much stronger, hehe.”
“god, i love you.” till surges forward for another kiss, lips slow to part away, lingering just that much more. “oh, hey, one more thing.”
“hm?”
till’s eyes darken, lips turning into a scowl. “if that damn police officer comes checking up on you, tell him to fuck off. don’t pretend to be nice to him, he’s not worth the effort.”
ivan smiles, soft and apologetic. “i’m sorry, till.”
“don’t be. fucking asshole isn’t allowed to touch what’s mine,” till mutters.
“oh?” ivan’s voice turns coy, and he grabs hold of till once more, not willing to let go. not now, not ever. “am i yours to keep, tilly?” his fingers toy with the knot of till’s tie, brushing his nails against his husband’s adam’s apple. “am i just an object to you?”
till growls, kissing him hard. “you’re more than that. you’re mine. that’s all you need to know. my vani, my beloved.”
“mm. yours forever.”
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it’s two days later when ivan hears the knock on the front door. he immediately knows who it is.
as it is, ivan is in the middle of bleaching the kitchen sink, so he’s not very pleased when he has to take off his household gloves, revealing a pretty pink set of nails. nevertheless, ivan goes and opens the door. again, he’s not very pleased at the sight of the other.
“good morning, ivan.” officer yang is a bit taller than ivan, so he smiles down from where he’s perched on ivan’s doormat. “just a routine visit, making sure everything’s as it should be. mind if i come in?”
ivan is not pleased. not pleased at all. “officer yang, i’d love to invite you in, but i’m in the middle of—”
“come now, ivan,” yang laughs out. “you wouldn’t want to interfere with police matters, would you? we have an investigation ongoing, you know. it won’t take long.” he smiles, and ivan notices a bit of green stuck in between his teeth.
ivan sighs, letting the door open wider. “just for a little while. i really do have to get all the chores done before lunch time.”
yang toes off his shoes as he comes in, raises a brow at the electric guitar on the wall in the living room. “you play?” he asks, gesturing toward the guitar.
ivan hums. “i don’t, but till does. he’s been playing for years, and this one is a collectible or so he said. it doesn’t match any of my decor, but it makes him happy, so on the wall it stays.”
“ah, yes. till.” yang forces the name out, spits it out like it’s bitter herbal medicine sold by the ahjummas in the beachfront market. “your boyfriend, isn’t he?”
“well...” ivan makes a show out of twirling the ring on his finger, the gloss of his lovely manicure shining underneath the chandelier. “husbands, wedded in america. but our history can’t be summed up with the mere title of ‘husbands.’ partners for life, maybe? that would suit us better.” he ignores the obvious ire on yang’s face and blinks his eyes, looking innocent as can be. “you had an investigation, you said?”
yang stares at ivan some more before smiling politely, less sincere, more hungry. “that i do. the patrolmen are making our routine visits to help the detectives on the case.”
the words come out monotone, as if he’s rehearsed these lines beforehand.
yang glances around, eyes roving from photographs of paris trips to the miniature swarovski kittens sitting in their glass showcase. “perhaps it would be better if we talked in the kitchen. less stuffy than in here, don’t you think?”
ivan stifles the urge to backhand him. he’s in the middle of cleaning the kitchen, damn it. “i can always open up a window or two—”
“and i’d love a glass of water. it’s a hot day, did you know, ivan?”
there’s a beat of silence before ivan makes up his mind. he smiles his signature fanged smile, doing his best to appease the policeman. “right this way, officer.”
and so, he leads the way.
in the kitchen, yang leans against the island while ivan opens the fridge. he grabs the pitcher of water, as well as a couple other things he’ll need for later, and turns back to face yang. yang’s eyes are slow to move up from where they were trained on ivan’s ass.
ivan regrets ever letting this fool enter his house.
he clears his throat. “see something you like, officer yang?”
yang gives him a wolfish grin, not even ashamed in the slightest. “depends on what you think’s enticing. there’s a lot to appreciate in this house, ivan.”
“i’m sure,” ivan says curtly. he opens one of the cabinets, grabs a glass for the water he’s about to pour for the other. “did you have any questions for me, officer? or was checking me out enough of an investigation?”
“i think i’ll need a further look into the latter,” yang begins, eyes dark and voice deep. “the investigation was... lacking in a few areas. another look won’t hurt.” he holds ivan’s gaze before smiling, as if he hadn’t been crass at all. “of course, i do have questions for you as well.”
ivan pours the water, hands it over, notices how their hands touch for far too long. “ask away,” ivan says easily. “i’m very honest, as you’ll find out.”
“i’m sure you are,” yang mutters. ivan steps back, but yang just takes a step forward. “has there been any disturbances in the area, ivan? any suspicious sightings?”
ivan pretends to ponder. “hmm... not that i can think of. marine city is generally quiet, and this neighborhood isn’t any different. we all like to keep to ourselves when we can.”
“what do you think of your neighbors? what do they think of you? and your partner?”
yang doesn’t have to spell it out. ivan knows exactly what he’s talking about.
“they’ve come to terms with an openly gay couple living amongst them,” he says. “it does help that we don’t cause any trouble, of course. till and i appreciate a quiet life. fun, but quiet.”
yang takes another step into ivan’s personal bubble. one rough hand finds its place on ivan’s waist, and the other strokes ivan’s cheek as if it dared to love. “what about me? what do you think of me?”
ivan’s eyes widen, searching yang’s for something unknown to the other. he finds what he’s looking for and smiles. “i think you need to let go of me right this second before my husband finds out you used your authority to barge into our home.”
“come now, ivan.” yang brushes his thumb against ivan’s bottom lip, letting it spring against the plush skin, once, twice. “he doesn’t need to find out. don’t you get lonely when he leaves you here all alone for work? don’t you need someone to relieve that stress? those desires?”
ivan, as stated before, is not pleased. not at all.
ivan sighs, wraps his arms around yang’s neck. yang seems happy, satisfied by the way ivan seems to be cooperating.
“you know,” ivan starts, “i’m not very happy right now.”
“oh?” yang murmurs. “and why is that, ivan? trouble in paradise?”
ivan shoots him a look, plays with the hair at the nape of yang’s neck. “no. i’m not happy with you.”
“well, i’m sorry it took me so long to—”
“i’m not happy,” ivan interrupts, “because i just mopped the floors. and i was in the middle of bleaching my sink.”
“i’m happy to move to the bedroom, if that’s what—”
“let. me. finish.”
ivan’s pink nails dig into yang’s neck, a small punishment. it’s a promise of more to come, whether yang knows that or not.
“as i was saying, i was trying to clean and get my chores done before lunch time. unfortunately, i’ll have to start all over again because of you. i’m not pleased. i’m going to be very behind schedule. how am i supposed to face till when he facetimes me?”
yang winces. “ivan, your manicure is very pretty, but i’d appreciate if you could stop pinching my skin with your nails. it does hurt, you know.”
ivan’s eyes gleam. “my nails aren’t the only thing in this house that can cause pain.”
“what do you—”
“blood stains don’t come off tile easily. i’ll have to remop, and then deep clean the grout. it’s hard work, you know? i only have so much bleach and hydrogen peroxide on hand.”
yang blinks, slowly lets go of ivan entirely. his hands go slack, his legs tremble where they stand. he staggers back, back, back against the island. he just manages to catch a glimpse of the syringe in ivan’s pretty pink-painted fingers before his eyes roll back and he buckles under his weight.
“did you know, officer? poison is best kept cool. mine is stored behind the milk.”
the last thing yang sees is ivan’s pretty fanged smile.
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it’s six minutes past noon when till calls. ivan is very saddened to have to cancel the facetime video till is requesting, but he’ll have to make do with a regular phone call on speaker.
“hey, baby. you’re not available for video?”
ivan sighs, pushing up the sleeves of his sweater and grabbing his rubber gloves. “not right now, sorry tilly. i’m busy using my hands.”
“oh? whatcha up to? baking?”
“draining blood,” ivan says cheerfully as he searches for his knife sharpener.
“oh, vani. we’ve talked about this. haven’t we talked about this?”
ivan hums, humoring till. he sharpens his german filleting knife, reveling in the feel and movement of his actions, laughing inwardly when till sighs so exasperatedly.
“baby, please. you said you weren’t going to cause trouble at the store.”
“i did indeed say that.”
“so why can’t we let the poor fishmonger do his job? he can cut up the meat exactly as you want without you having to get your hands dirty.”
“because,” ivan starts, turning his knife over to inspect it in the light. “i want the pleasure of killing this filthy thing with my own two hands.”
“it’s just a fish, ivan.”
“fish, animal, whatever. i’ve got the skills for anything.” ivan doesn’t hesitate to pull yang’s head over the kitchen sink, doesn’t hesitate to slit his throat in one swift motion. “till, i did it! yang is deader than dead! praise me!”
“you’re so cute, what the hell? and did you just name your fish after that damn policeman?”
“maybe~” ivan sings, watching avidly as the blood pours, pours, pours down the drain, faucet turned on to help its descent into the sewage. right where it belongs, home at last. “tilly, i miss you. when will you be home?”
“just a few more days, baby. i promise i’m almost done.”
ivan whines. “not soon enough. i need you next to me. i can’t risk you finding someone else overseas. someone younger or prettier or even—”
“ivan.”
ivan pauses, almost losing his grip on yang’s cooling body. till’s voice is dark, deep, dreadfully enticing. he shivers when till’s heavy tone rolls over him once again.
“ivan, my beloved. you are the prettiest, most loveliest damn thing i have ever seen in my twenty eight years of living. everything you are is gorgeous. your eyes, your nose, your lips, your thighs, your damn smile. everything about you is everything i want. no one else could ever come close to my heart.”
ivan’s lips curl. “oh?”
“mm. besides, who else could ever be good enough for me?”
till’s voice becomes impossibly more delicious, and ivan feels heat pooling in the pit of his stomach, feels his heart start to pound, feels—
“when i come home, i’ll reassure you, because clearly i need to do better. i’ll worship every inch of your skin. i’ll mark you up, moving up from your thighs to your plush little tummy, all the way up to your neck. you’ll wear my marks like jewelry, and i’ll make you walk around the house shirtless to show them off.”
“till...”
“gonna make you feel so good, vani. gonna open up your slutty hole on my fingers. three, four, as many as you want. gonna make you feel every inch of them. i can already see your greedy hole sucking my fingers in, not letting go. but i gotta get you ready for my cock, you know? you’ll forgive me if i take my time opening you up.”
“i will, i will,” ivan says quickly, practically breathless, “please, tilly.”
“and, of course, i can’t have you coming on your own. you can only cum on my cock. can you see it, baby? me pushing in, feeling every inch of your tight heat, and you screaming because no matter how push i prepare you, i’m still too big for you. you’d beg for me to go slowly, but you see, that only gets me going, baby. i’ll push in harder until all of me is sheathed within you, and then you know what i’ll do?”
ivan wants to know so badly. “tell me.”
“i’ll finally let you touch your cock. because all this time, i haven’t let you touch it. it’s been getting no attention, poor thing. but now that i’m finally inside you, we can give it the touch it needs. can you feel it, baby? my rough palm on your sensitive little cock? can you see yourself crying for me to let you cum, for my permission? because good boys need permission to cum, don’t they?”
ivan’s grip on yang tightens, and it’s the last thing grounding him to reality. his cock is throbbing, hard and hot within his pants, and he hates that a useless dead body is in the way of him touching himself. he wants to get off to till’s voice, to his words, the way he knows till is doing himself thousands of miles away.
but he can’t. how upsetting.
“daddy,” he says quietly, meekly. “you’ll let me come.”
“do you deserve to?”
“i’m a good boy for you,” ivan cries out, feeling tears prick at his lashline. “i’ve always been good for you, daddy. you’ll let me come!”
“oh, baby. but i’ll let you come, of course i will. after all, you’re right. you’re my good little boy and you deserve to come. and when you do, you’ll scream so hard, you see stars. gonna rock your world so bad, you’ll beg me to stop before we’ve even begun.”
“and then?” ivan asks in anticipation, eyes stinging, blurry with tears, even as he tries to focus. “will you fuck me then, tilly?”
“i will.”
till’s voice is soft and ragged through the phone speaker, and ivan knows his husband is enjoying their conversation to the fullest degree. ivan’s envious. but more so than that, his heart yearns for till to make him feel good now, for him to wreck into his body this very minute and take complete control of his body.
“and you’ll take it all without complaint, won’t you? when i pound into you fast and hard? oh, but of course you will. vani’s my good boy. you’ll do a good job for me, won’t you?”
“tilllllll.”
“say that you will.”
till’s attack is devastating, and ivan is weak, weak, weak.
“anything for you, daddy,” he finally gets out, swallowing down his desire as best as he can.
when till groans, indicating that he’s close, ivan closes his eyes, ignoring the dead weight in his hold. he wants to commit every bit of this moment to memory, to revel in the fact that he’s the reason for till’s release, that he’s the reason for till coming undone.
ivan’s the only one who can have this effect on his husband, and he’s the only one who ever will.
finally, when till’s breathing evens out again, ivan inhales, lets it out slowly to calm his racing pulse. a bittersweet sense of loss sets in that he couldn’t enjoy the moment with his husband, but overall, he’s relieved the throbbing of his cock is ebbing away, that he doesn’t feel as ravenous. hearing till cum was truly enough of a satisfaction.
“come home soon, till. make me feel good like you promised. i’ll be waiting for you here.”
“i know you will, baby. you know i love you, right?”
ivan whines at that. “if you loved me, you wouldn’t turn me on so bad after i told you i was busy! i told you and everything, aah!”
“hahaha, sorry, vani. that’s on me. but i couldn’t help it. i always want to ravish you with love and attention, and i want you to know that i’ll never stray from you. you’re it for me. never question that.”
ivan preens, pleased with till’s words. “i’ll do my best,” he teases.
“brat. ah, shit. i have to go, sweetheart. gotta get ready for a meeting in half an hour. but hey. i’ll be back before you know it. in the mean time, have fun cooking yang the fish. if only we could kill the real yang while we’re at it, haha.”
“that would be... quite the treat.”
“it would, wouldn’t it? i love you, ivan. see you soon, okay?”
“love you too, tilly.” ivan stares down at the body in his hands, unsure how he managed to complete the job when so thoroughly distracted. “bye bye.”
“bye, baby.”
the call clicks and till is gone.
ivan misses him so much.
he looks down and smiles. “well, officer, i should extend a congratulations to you. you didn’t get a speck of blood on me during the entire process. how about you come visit a couple friends of mine? they’d love to meet you.”
ivan picks up yang’s cold hand, maneuvers the fingers into the form of a thumbs up, and then lets it drop back down.
“i’m glad you’re excited. i think tonight’s a good night for a drive.”
.
.
.
ivan lugs the duffel bag toward the entrance, knocks thrice, and waits patiently.
the door finally swings open and ivan is forced to drop the bag when he’s engulfed into a fierce bear hug.
“ivan! it’s been too long!” hyunwoo pulls away, eyes alight with excitement. “another one for noona, i presume?”
“yes, please!” ivan says cutely. “and don’t worry, i made sure to clean him up well this time. it shouldn’t be a messy process tonight.”
hyunwoo ruffles ivan’s hair. “good job, kid. it looks like you’re doing well for yourself, huh?” he bends down and grabs the duffel bag with ease. “i’ll take this. you go ahead inside. you’re in luck, noona still has the retort on.”
“i can’t wait,” ivan beams. “yang is excited too, of course.”
hyunwoo grins, a lot handsome, a little deranged.
“i can only imagine.”
.
.
.
hyuna is most possibly the cheeriest, most upbeat person ivan has ever known in his entire life. so it’s always fun to see her when she’s super somber and serious, a nice bit of juxtaposition from her usual self.
“what do you mean he’s already dead?” hyuna asks in a dry tone, eyes narrowed. “i thought you promised your next one would be sedated so we could finish the kill here in the crematorium.”
ivan smiles innocently. “the situation demanded just punishment. he couldn’t be allowed to breathe for more than a second longer.”
hyuna stands there and studies ivan for a long few minutes. ivan takes it in stride, already used to hyuna when it comes to the dead.
finally, hyuna speaks. “well... we might as well begin then. any final words to the dearly departed, ivan?”
ivan steps up the duffel bag and looks down at the mangled mass of bones and skin.
“take your pick, yang. roses or anemones?”
there’s silence for a minute before ivan turns to hyuna with a smile.
“anemones it is, noona. fire him away.”
hyuna casts her gaze upon the duffel bag before snorting. “alright, ivan. you know the drill. wait outside while hyunwoo and i finish up.”
ivan salutes her with a cheeky grin. “thank you, hyuna-noona. i mean it.”
when ivan has left the room, hyuna turns to speak to the once-human. her teeth glint under the harsh, shitty lighting, and a shadow casts upon her face.
“you met a good end with that one. if it were me, i’d have kept you barely alive for much, much longer. the crematorium has a lovely basement, you know. you would have enjoyed staying there. i’d make sure of it.”
.
.
.
when hyuna is done, hyunwoo comes back with jar full of ashes.
“so i heard from noona. till’s on another business trip, huh?”
ivan sighs, taking the jar from hyunwoo with careful hands. “it’s his second one this month. i’m tired of how much time his company demands from him.”
hyunwoo shrugs. “he’s making good money though. and he’s not always gone. he makes sure to spend time with you, i know. speaking of... have you told him yet?”
“hm? told him what?” ivan asks, pretending to not know what hyunwoo is talking about.
“oh, come on. told him about your extracurricular activities,” hyunwoo laughs. “i know, noona knows... hell, i bet luka might have an idea too.”
ivan clicks his tongue. “luka doesn’t know shit. he just think he’s cool because he gets to work with till all the time.”
“i can assure you he does not think that,” hyunwoo chuckles. “if anything, he complains to noona about how much till talks about you and says he’s tired of hearing it.”
something warm curls inside ivan’s chest at hyunwoo’s words. it’s one thing to hear till adulate him with praise and love, and completely another to hear from other people of how much till adores him.
but it only makes the constant seed of worry in ivan’s heart grow.
“won’t he hate me then?” ivan asks, voice small. “he might not understand why i do what i do. he might ask me to stop. he might want to leave me. i couldn’t bear it.”
hyunwoo waves a hand in the air. “till, leaving you? please, tell me a better joke. this one is incomprehensible.”
ivan smacks hyunwoo’s shoulder and the elder laughs.
“okay, okay, fine. i get that you have your reservations. but trust me. coming clean will be a relief. you’ll see. till would never leave you, and he loves you too much to stop you. if anything, i think he’ll be proud.”
ivan raises a brow. “based on what intel?”
hyunwoo laughs again, as if ivan had said something funny.
“he’s always proud of you. don’t you know that?”
.
.
.
when ivan gets home, he shelves his jar of ashes for tomorrow. he has another plan for tonight.
as ivan gets dressed, he reminisces over how lovely till sounded over the phone, but also over how he had teased ivan, pushed him when he knew ivan was in no position to respond.
how cruel, to make him want so much and deny him at the same time. till knows how much ivan misses him.
so wouldn’t it be fair if ivan denied till in turn? made him yearn as well?
ivan looks at himself in their floor-length mirror, admiring the way his stockings clung to the meat of his thighs, the way his pink babydoll chemise showed off his tummy though the mesh and emphasized his chest, showing off cleavage that ivan didn’t usually show. he quite liked the hair clip he’d used to hold back his hair; it had been a gift from till during their school days and was amongst ivan’s favorite items to this day.
all in all, ivan looked like a snack, and he was sure till would be saddened to find he couldn’t indulge in this particular treat.
ivan giggles as he adjusts his phone camera settings. he’s betting on till making quite the fuss when he gets back.
.
.
.
days later, ivan hears the click of a key being inserted.
by the time he reaches the door, till’s bags have been thrown to the side and his tie had already been loosened. it takes all but two seconds for till to grab ivan by his wrists and whirl him against the front door.
“what the fuck was that?” he seethes, eyes hellish and wild. “what the fuck were those pictures?”
ivan smiles cutely, even though there’s nothing innocent behind it. “i just wanted to show off my new stockings. they looked good on my legs, didn’t they?”
till peers down and ivan’s pants. “are you perhaps wearing them right now underneath?”
“hehe, nope. the pictures were taken a few days ago. i just had the foresight of sending them right before your plane took off.”
“vani, baby.” till groans, pressing ivan closer to the door with his own body, forehead resting on ivan’s shoulder. he slots a leg in between ivan’s, is pleased when he feels how hard ivan is already. “you will be the death of me, ivan.”
“oh? will i really?”
till grips ivan’s wrists tighter when he picks up his head and sees the haze in his husband’s eyes, sees the reflection of his own staring back.
god, his beautiful husband was pretty as hell.
“yes. you will.” till’s answer is a beat late, too busy admiring the flush on ivan’s cheeks and the brightness in his eyes. “is this my punishment for teasing you? for getting off without you?”
“maybe~” ivan giggles at the frustration on till’s face, pleased to elicit this reaction out of him. “you’re holding back well, dear husband. did you perhaps not like my pictures that much? you’ve hardly praised them, you know.”
“you and your fucking praise kink. upstairs now.”
“yes, sir.”
.
.
.
the lights are dim in the bedroom, but the curtains are wide open.
outside, the stars shine bright beyond the window, twinkling within the expanse of the dark sky, some hiding behind clouds shyly while others bear witness to a young couple’s love.
because this was a glorious night, full of breathless gazes and perfumed gasps and—
“more, more, tilly please, more!”
till rocks his hips up, grins down at the vision his dark-haired angel makes against the cream sheets. “yeah?” he bites out. “feels good, vani?”
with another upward thrust, ivan cries out, hands grasping onto whatever bit of till he can reach. “please! feels so good, tilly, yes!”
till feels the monster inside him roar out in glee seeing the state of his husband, seeing what kind of wreck ivan has turned into. he leans over ivan, uses one hand to tip ivan’s chin up and capture his lips in a kiss so deep and raunchy that it makes ivan’s head spin. tongues touch and twine, saliva swapping, and ivan moans when till takes that moment to continue pounding into ivan’s hole, cock hitting deep inside and brushing against ivan’s prostate with each burst in. it makes ivan keen in the best way possible, makes him that much more teary-eyed.
till loves the way ivan becomes undone this way, loves how he can turn someone so prim and proper into a beautiful beggar of a man with only till’s dick on his mind. ivan’s little noises only rile till up and he makes sure to shower ivan with all the love he can possibly bestow.
finally, when ivan’s moans have become high-pitched, till reaches down and wraps a hand around ivan’s weeping cock, digs his thumb into the slit and starts pumping his fist hard and fast. ivan cries out even louder at the added stimulation, starts pleading in the cutest way possible.
“till, please, i can’t take anymore! i can’t!”
“you can,” till assures hushedly, biting out the words into ivan’s ear as he bends over him, still fucking up into him. “you can take it.”
“no, no, no,” ivan weeps, thrashing on the sheets, “i can’t, till.”
till growls out, pausing his actions and squeezing ivan’s dick hard. “i’ve let it slide, but that’s not my name right now, vani. address me properly.”
tears stream down ivan’s cheeks like gemstones. “till?”
“daddy,” till corrects. “you’re daddy’s good boy, right? say that you are.”
“i, i’m d-daddy’s good boy,” ivan hiccups out. “i’m good for daddy. please, daddy, please make it stop.”
“yeah? you want daddy to stop?”
till drives his cock up deep into ivan, watching manically as ivan arches his back, groaning out loudly. “please, daddy!”
“no,” till utters out softly. “you’ll cum for me before i stop.” he resumes working his fist over ivan’s cock, the slide more than easy with all the precum coating it. “cum for me, baby. cum for daddy, will you? please?”
his last word is enunciated with a particularly thrust into ivan’s hole. ivan cries through it all.
“i can’t, i can’t,” he sobs.
“you can,” till growls out. “c’mon, baby. cum. now.”
the demand is followed by a chorus of moans, spilling out of ivan’s throat like a spell. with all the stimulation to his cock and his hole, it doesn’t take ivan long to break and to finally release with a scream, cum spurting all over his stomach. till doesn’t stop jerking ivan off, pulling every last bit of pleasure out of his husband until he’s nothing more than a trembling mess. finally, till feels the last bit of his patience fail and he pumps his hips fast once, twice, before he explodes and cums into ivan’s hole.
with his orgasm wrecking his mind, till collapses onto ivan, neverminding the mess of cum and sweat on ivan’s body. when he’s finally able to breathe again, till lifts his head up and marvels at how beautiful his husband looks, exhausted after experiencing such pleasure.
“hey, vani,” till whispers. “you with me?”
ivan’s eyes flutter open and he groans lightly. “hurts. and you’re still inside me, till.”
till glances down to where he’s still joined with ivan and smirks. “mm. you feel nice and warm, baby.”
ivan glares, but it’s more fond that threatening. “you didn’t use a condom either. you’ve made a mess out of me.”
“that sounds more like an accomplishment than a problem if you ask me.”
ivan smacks his husband on the arm, making till grin in response.
“haha, okay, okay. i’m sorry. i’ll pull out now, okay?”
without waiting for an answer, till gingerly pulls back, cock slipping out of ivan’s hole. mesmerized, till watches as his cum leaks out of ivan’s swollen hole like icing on a pastry, wanting nothing more than to fuck it back inside him and plug him up so he gets pregnant.
“till, no. i can’t get pregnant so don’t you dare.”
till looks up at ivan and gapes. “can you read my mind now?”
ivan snorts. “no, you’re just predictable. you had that look in your eyes. we have to do something about your breeding kink.”
till maneuvers himself so he’s laying next to ivan, propped up so he can still gaze upon his gorgeous husband. “well, it wouldn’t be a problem if you just got pregnant.”
ivan shakes his head even as he tries to sit up, wincing. “biologically, that’s impossible. but...”
till raises a brow. “but?”
ivan smiles mischievously. “i don’t exactly mind you trying your best anyways.”
“hehe, good.” till finally gets up and out of bed. “stay there, i’ll grab a wash cloth and some water.”
ivan smiles gratefully. “thank you, daddy~”
“hey,” till warns. “not out of bed, or i’ll just want to fuck you again.”
ivan hoods his eyes, lips curling. “i wouldn’t exactly be opposed. you were away for quite a while.”
“you can’t just say that, argh!” till forcefully turns his head away from his minx of a husband. “stay there, i know you’re tired. we can go again in a bit if you’re really up for it.”
ivan giggles, the sound sweeter than any fruit till has ever consumed.
thirty minutes later, till’s hopes come true because ivan’s pulling him back into bed after they’ve hydrated and rested for a decent amount of time.
they both spend the rest of the night showing each other just how much they missed one another.
.
.
.
days later, ivan’s on the hunt for fruit after till mentioned craving some.
he pops a blueberry into his mouth, marvels at the burst of juice and flavor tingling his taste buds. “so sweet! it’s wonderful, oh my. these must be the best blueberries in korea.”
“aigoo,” coos the ahjumma behind the fruit stands. “you’re just as sweet, ivan dear. come, have some more samples. a growing boy like you is deserving of such.” she grabs for his hand, places another four blueberries in his palm. “eat up, eat up. they won’t last long, these won’t. that’s how fresh they are.”
ivan giggles, always liking to be doted on, and proceeds to swallow the fruit all in on go. the fresh tang and crisp skin of the blue-eyed fruit is unlike those found in a regular grocery store.
for ivan, it’s always a delight when he’s able to make the trip to the beachfront early on sunday mornings. the pop-up market doesn’t last more than half a day, but it’s enough time for the locals to sell and promote their own goods and services to everyone around marine city and its neighbors. it’s a wonderful set up, and ivan adores being able to come and roam around.
“ahjumma,” ivan starts eagerly, “i’d love to buy two kilograms of these blueberries. do you have that much on hand today?”
“for a paying customer, i have anything,” hani cackles.
it’s raspy, tinged with age and stubbornness. it’s not dissimilar from ivan’s grandmother’s own laugh. unlike ivan’s elder though, hani doesn’t emit any warmth.
“by the way,” hani peers closely at him, “will you be making something delicious with the berries?”
ivan preens. it’s no secret that ivan is the best baker in all of marine city. “why do you ask?”
hani smiles wide, fake teeth straight and perfect. “how about i give you an extra half kilo of berries for a discounted rate, and in exchange, you let me taste some of your berry dessert?”
ivan pretends to think about it, but his little giggle is too telling. “i’d be honored. thank you, ahjumma.”
“no no, none of that,” hani waves her hand, busying herself with gathering the supplies to box up ivan’s order. “call me hani, young one.”
“hani, then.”
there’s another cackle on the elder’s part. “oh, and where is that strapping young housemate of yours? is he roaming around? i haven’t seen him in some time.”
ivan blushes at the thought of till. it’s something till often teases him about. whenever someone mentions till in front of ivan out of the blue, his cheeks are a dusty plush pink more often than not.
“he’s not here right now,” ivan says, almost apologetically. “he’s tied up with some urgent matter at the office.”
“on a sunday? oh, that’s too bad. such a handsome young man, he works so hard.” hani lists off the total and ivan reaches for his wallet. “i wonder when he’ll settle down with a nice girl. why, just the other day, old man jung was asking after the two of you. said it must be so lonely for a couple of bachelors.”
ah, there it is. the only ever hiccup in ivan’s trips to the market.
ivan tries to keep his smile serene on his face, but it falters. of course it would falter. and he’s doubly sure that hani is aware of it. old wicked women see everything.
“ahjumma, you know till and i are—”
“hani, ivan dear, call me hani. and any girl would love to get to know him. you too, for that matter.” there’s a sheen to hani’s gaze now, a foul curl on her lips. “in fact, i know a couple of girls who would love to meet you. do let me know when you and your housemate have time, and i’ll be sure to arrange a meeting.”
ivan smiles politely, but doesn’t say another word. instead, he drops the cash in hani’s hands, and retrieves his bags of blueberries.
around him, the market is bustling. there’s people yelling about homemade hand soaps that’s perfect for countering eczema, about fresh local honey that’s perfect for helping out with allergies, about delicious farm-made cheese that’s perfect for any korean dish or with any paired wine.
ivan sighs.
he wonders if there’s anything that’s perfect for destroying the rampant homophobia he has no choice but to endure.
ivan thinks for a minute before smiling a cute, little fanged smile.
he goes back for a jar of honey.
.
.
.
till makes his way down the staircase, passing the ornate rustic mirror and the painting he gifted to ivan for one of his past birthdays. he’s following the smell of butter, berry, and sugar.
he finds ivan in the kitchen. his husband is stirring a wooden spoon inside a saucepan with a thick, dark mixture, and it smells absolutely heavenly. surrounding him on the countertop is a plethora of ingredients, from lemon juice to flour, from milk to baking soda, from chopped nuts to cream cheese.
till doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around ivan’s middle, to bury his face into the crook of the other’s neck. he inhales ivan’s sweet, sweet scent. usually, he smells like lemon and laundry detergent, but now it’s tinged with the whole-bodied crisp of blueberries and sugar. he inhales deeply, like a hungry madman after a morsel of steak, and starts peppering ivan’s skin with long, wet kisses.
ivan, to till’s disappointment, doesn’t turn off the heat and turn in his arms. instead, his husband chuckles and continues to stir. “having fun there, tilly?”
till mutters curses, moves his hands from ivan’s waist to climb up inside his loose-fitting tee. he teases against the waistband of ivan’s briefs before splaying his fingers against the plush of ivan’s tummy, pressing into skin and hoping to leave marks. marks that claim ivan as till’s.
ivan lets out a sigh, places his free hand over till’s, making till dig in deeper. “tillyyy,” he harrumphs. “i’m busy.”
“well, you aren’t stopping me, baby,” till chuckles, ghosting his lips up ivan’s neck. he starts nibbling at his ear, ignores ivan’s petulant whine. “what are you making?”
“hmm.” ivan tilts his head, just barely. it’s enough incentive for till to place butterfly kisses behind his ear. “blueberry jam. it’s going to go in the honey-blueberry oatmeal bars. and i’ve got—till, careful with the marks—i’ve got blueberry muffins in the oven. they just need another ten minutes.”
“oh, goodie. two treats in one day.”
“hm? but you don’t like honey in your desserts. you say it makes them too sweet.”
“i know.” till’s grin is salacious beyond belief. his right hand climbs up, thumb brushing against a hard nipple. till revels in the shiver running through ivan’s spine. “i wasn’t talking about the honey bars.” he peeks at the blueberry jam, which ivan is somehow still tending to despite till’s actions. he spots the lemon juice and sugar on the counter, and then notices a small pyrex bowl of something that looked similar to the jam. “what’s in that bowl, baby? reject first try?”
ivan scoffs, moving to tousle till’s hair playfully. “everything i make it perfect, tilly. don’t you know who i am?”
“right, right. sorry, haha.”
“but to answer your question...” ivan tenses when he feels till’s mouth start sucking into his bare shoulder, but then quickly relaxes into the touch. “it’s more jam, but a special batch. more honey, more lemon, plus a secret ingredient.”
“you gonna say something corny like how the secret ingredient is love or some shit?” till asks, rolling his eyes in jest.
“no.” ivan’s voice is warm. warm, soft, and enticingly gentle. “but it is to die for.”
he finally turns the heat dial on the stove, sets the spoon on the side plate and turns around, placing his hands on till’s shoulders.
“and you’re not allowed to touch it, tilly.”
till shrugs. “fine by me,” he says, grinning. “there’s muffins coming soon. and i’ve got my main dessert right here already in my arms.”
when they kiss, till swears he can taste a bit of sour behind the sweet on ivan’s tongue.
he loves it, yearns for more.
but then again, he’s always yearning for his cute husband.
.
.
.
by the time ivan is done with the kitchen (and by the time till is done with him), ivan’s got a nice selection of goods made. blueberry cheesecake cups, blueberry jam rolls, blueberry cream cheese bars, even blueberry cookies. who the hell makes blueberry cookies?
ivan bites into one, squeals happily at the taste.
ivan, that’s who.
but ivan does have a problem. he’s done baking, but he may have gone a bit overboard.
“there’s no way we’re gonna get through all this before it spoils,” he mutters to himself. he glances around the kitchen, hoping for a semblance of a solution to speak to him. his eye is caught on the calendar hanging on the fridge. there’s red writing in the square for tomorrow, a simple reminder of a very important meeting at till’s workplace.
“ooh, okay. i can work with this.”
ivan dashes upstairs and bursts into the bathroom.
“tilly!”
poor till. he was just trying to get the perfect water temperature for his shower, but instead, he startles back and hits his elbow against the shower wall. distracted and in pain, till doesn’t notice when his foot starts to slide. he would have fallen to a humiliating death if it weren’t for the steady balancing hands of his cute husband.
till narrows his eyes. “thanks for almost killing me, baby. appreciate it.”
ivan does his best to muffle his giggles. he fails. “anytime, tilly. but i had a question for you.”
“uhh... can it wait until i’m done showering?”
“nope! so... can i come to work with you tomorrow?”
till stares at him, puzzled. “why? need to see mizi or something?”
“nah.” ivan tries to keep his eyes on till’s face, but it’s terribly distracting when till’s built like... like that. very broad, very big, and in all the right places. “i made too much dessert. i saw the note about your meeting, so i was hoping i could provide snacks for all of you.”
“aww, my baby.” till smiles, besotted with ivan’s thoughtfulness. “that’s sweet. thank you, we would love that.”
he places a quick peck on ivan’s lips, chuckles when ivan leans forward to prolong it, chasing after till and his kiss.
when they break off, ivan blinks, stares at till’s devastatingly handsome face before looking down at till’s devastatingly huge dick.
“move over. i’m coming in.”
“didn’t you shower just earli—”
“i said move over. i want to suck you off. let me suck you off.”
“...okay, yeah. i’m good with that too.”
.
.
.
morning arrives.
it’s a sticky summer day, and ivan decides his outfit needs to keep him fresh and fun. so while till is making breakfast for the two of them downstairs, ivan peruses through his closet, keeps his options open as he really wants to make a good impression on till’s coworkers. he wants them to know that till is the luckiest man in the world, and that he always will be.
after ten minutes of deep thought, ivan decides on the outfit of the day.
he picks out a black, long-sleeved chiffon blouse, and pairs it with a flowy white skirt that hits him about mid-thigh. from there, he goes for his jewelry box, a gorgeous glass creation that was one of till’s anniversary gifts to him. he decides on the pearl hoops, as they match the pearlescent buttons on his top. he even puts on the silver chain till got him during their holiday in switzerland. he keeps his make-up light, just enough to make him glow under the light, and he opts for floral body spray and flower hair clips to keep his bangs back.
when ivan is finally satisfied, he dashes downstairs for the final seal of approval.
“tilly!”
till turns and immediately goes slack-jawed.
ivan smiles shyly and does a twirl. “what do you think?”
there’s silence, and when till does finally speak, his voice is just a touch bit hoarse. “fucking stunning. but we’re missing one thing.”
ivan frowns, stands a bit straighter. “what is it? i skipped mascara this time around. maybe i should—”
“vani. vani, baby.”
till cups ivan’s cheeks carefully, reverently, before kissing him. by the time they part, ivan is blushing a fierce red.
till smirks, playfully licking at the lip gloss that’s transferred from ivan’s lips to his own.
“now you’re ready.”
.
.
.
till, ever the gentleman, helps carry a large chunk of the dessert containers up to his office, all the way on the nineteenth floor. he’s proud, so fucking proud, of all the heads ivan is turning as they walk past.
that’s his baby, and he’s never going to stop talking about him.
as they’re waiting patiently for the next elevator to arrive, till takes a quick glance at ivan. he truly does look so goddamn beautiful. classy, elegant, and yet he has such a fresh, youthful aura about him. till wishes he could spend the whole day watching his every move, his every breath, but alas, duty calls.
till’s eyes glance down to the cut-outs in ivan’s blouse, showing off the sides of ivan’s middle. with his free hand, till reaches in and tickles the skin, grinning when ivan jumps where he stands.
“behave, till,” ivan warns, even as he’s giggling. “don’t make me punish you for teasing again.”
till wraps his arm around ivan and pulls his husband in close. “sorry, baby,” he murmurs into ivan’s ear, “but i can’t help it. i love that you’re all mine. all i want to do is touch you everywhere that i can.”
“hm. i suppose that’s acceptable. i did dress up quite nicely this time, didn’t i? i’m making quite a statement. not that you know anything about that,” ivan teases.
“baby, i make a statement every time we go out and you’re on my arm,” till mutters. “you’re my one and only luxury item, worth so much more than i ever will.”
ivan leans in and pecks till on the lips. “smooth talker. you’re worthy of me. always have been.”
when ivan tries to step back, till stops him. “where are you going? come back here.”
and so, the two exchange soft kisses the whole elevator ride up the till’s office, absolutely lost in love.
.
.
.
with everything set up in the conference room, ivan excuses himself to the bathroom. till has ruined his lip gloss far too many times since ivan first got ready, and this will be the third time he has to fix it today. but you know, as far as problems go, this is one ivan wants to have all the time.
he’s just about to push open the door to the men’s room when he hears a long string of expletives coming from inside.
“calm down, man. yelling isn’t going to help the matter.”
“maybe not, but it makes me feel better. manager till’s gonna have my head.”
at the mention of his soulmate, ivan’s ears twitch. he keeps the door slightly open, hoping the two men talk more, because work gossip about till? count him in.
“seriously, shut up. manager till has ears like a hawk’s. and i bet he can hack into the cameras too, knowing him.”
this is incorrect, ivan thinks with an inward giggle. till sucks at technology more advanced than a basic phone and laptop. ivan’s the one always fixing things in their home. the man is incorrect, but ivan won’t be the one to adjust his thinking. ivan likes how scared they seem of till, because it means till is dominant, powerful even, within his peers. it’s knowledge that makes ivan appreciate his husband even more than he already does.
“fuck that. how am i going to get that promotion now? that last trip was a disaster for our team. and now he wants to have a one-on-one session tomorrow to discuss what happened on my end.”
“well... you did fuck up. it’s bad enough you didn’t secure the goods in liverpool, but going in with no weapons? no backup? you’re lucky you got out alive.”
...what?
“what’s more is that you had two people on your team need to visit the i.c.u. which is a bad reflection on your performance overall. honestly, with a company that prides itself on its efficiency, and with a boss like manager till who’s obsessed with safety statistics, you dug yourself a hole. now you have to climb out.”
...what?
“ivan? is that you?”
ivan whirls around. even though his head has started pounding, he almost forgets everything at the sore sight in front of him.
“mizi!” ivan beams. “i’ve missed you! it’s been so long!”
mizi smiles back, sunshine incarnate. “i’ve missed you too! it’s really been a while, hasn’t it?”
mizi envelopes ivan in a warm hug, one that ivan returns happily. when they part, ivan takes in the sight of his friend.
mizi’s cut her hair short, much shorter than the last time he saw her, but otherwise, she looks the same.
“i like the new style,” ivan says, looking at mizi’s short locks. “what brought on the change?”
mizi smiles sheepishly. “had a mishap at work. got my hair too close to a candle and singed the ends. it needed a good ol’ chop. but that’s old news now, haha. what’s new with you? i’ve noticed you’ve been keeping busy, mr. ‘i just hit a million subscribers on youtube.’”
ivan frowns at the sudden topic change. he wants to inquire further about what really happened to mizi’s hair, because the candle seemed like a weak excuse, but he could also tell mizi didn’t want to talk about it. he wouldn’t push, but the suspicions remained.
“the subscriber thing is new, don’t tease me too much about it,” ivan says finally, letting out a smile despite himself. “but you’ve been quite busy too. always on business trips like till. sua and i have to go shopping alone now.”
“oh no, poor you,” mizi teases. “how ever will you survive?”
“i bet sua misses you more than i do!” ivan retorts back.
mizi laughs. “i see sua plenty, don’t worry. oh, but i wanted to ask. was it you who brought all those yummy things for the meeting?”
mizi’s eyes sparkle, already knowing the answer but wanting ivan to own up to it.
ivan beams, happy to take ownership, always one to take pride in his work. “no one better than me to provide dessert, hehe. have you tried anything yet?”
mizi giggles. “i did snag a blueberry muffin. it was absolutely delicious, ivan, you’ve outdone yourself!”
ivan is pleased.
as they continue to converse, mizi mentions till is looking for him, and so leads ivan back to where till’s office is located. ivan is happy for the tour guide in mizi, and even feels his headache start to fade away.
it’s nice catching up with mizi. they talk about sua, who’s just been accepted as a teacher at a private gymnastics academy, and talk about visiting hyuna, who mizi hasn’t seen in a long while, and of course, talk about till, because till is ivan’s most favorite topic to talk about.
ivan is happy. he’s even happier when he sees till waiting for him anxiously in his office, immediately getting up from his chair and greeting ivan with a sweet kiss. the happiness ivan feels is almost enough for ivan to forget what he heard in the bathroom earlier.
but it isn’t.
ivan doesn’t forget.
he just doesn’t know what to do with the information.
.
.
.
it’s days later, and ivan’s blood is thrumming in excitement. it always does when there’s prey on the loose, and it’s ivan’s job to ensnare it.
luckily for him, hani is right on time.
unluckily for him, it’s till who opens the door.
ivan can hear them from the kitchen, hears the “aigoo! such a handsome face. you must be so popular with the ladies at that fancy office job of yours” and the “oh, what a cute photo! were you and ivan in disneyland? what a beautiful castle! oh, was it your girlfriend who took the photo for you both?” and “till dear, if you have some time next weekend, my friend’s daughter would love to meet you for a lunch date.”
he hears it all.
and ivan is not pleased one bit.
when hani finally reaches the kitchen with a tired till following right behind, ivan plasters a genuine smile on his face. this is, after all, the last time they would be speaking to the elder, so it only makes sense to make this a moment she would never forget.
“ivan dear!” hani moves to hug him, but is immediately sidetracked by the delicious display of goods behind ivan on the marble countertop. “these look simply scrumptious! of course, you did have the best blueberries in all of busan. it could never be anything less than delicious, hahaha! you said i could take my pick?”
ivan nods, eyes crinkling with delight. “of course! i couldn’t have done such a good job without you, hani. i thank you for your hard work and efforts in growing those blueberries.” he steps closer. “take whatever you like. till and i will never finish them before they go bad, so please, help yourself.” he leans in closer, a touch closer, and whispers conspiratorially in her ear. “till’s favorite are the honey oatmeal bars. make sure to grab a few of those too. they’re lined with a delicious homemade jam, so they are very very sweet. be wary.”
hani winks at him. “don’t you worry about me. i’ve already replaced my real teeth with dentures, and i have an affinitive sweet tooth. i’m more than happy to cave into my sugary addiction.”
ivan tries to contain his giggles. “did you want till to help you to your car with the boxes, or will you be okay?”
“i’m stronger than you think,” hani says shortly, distracted by the act of stuffing her tupperware boxes with as much free dessert as she can possibly put away, greedy bint that she was.
till excuses himself after snagging a couple of cheesecake cups for himself, thanks hani for visiting them in their home and apologizes for having to go work in the study while they have a guest over. hani could care less. she just wants what she came for. nevertheless, she takes a moment to lift her eyes from the baked goods to bid till farewell.
when she’s finally done, hani pats ivan on the cheek good-naturedly, thanking him for his time. “such a sweet boy, ivan dear. you let me know if there’s a girl in your sights. ol’ hani hasn’t lost her matchmaking skills yet, hahahaha!” she cackles loudly, but then almost immediately doubles over in a series of devastating throaty coughs.
ivan goes to hold her, keep her body steady. “hani, are you sure you’re okay? i can get till to drive you back.”
hani waves him off. “no, no. just the old body giving me trouble again. nothing to worry about. i’m not dying anytime soon, don’t fret, don’t fret.”
ivan’s lips quirk, pleased beyond compare.
“if you’re sure.” ivan lets go of her, ignores the way her body sags a little. “let me get the door for you. i’m sure you’re anxious to go home and safely enjoy your new treats.”
“so sweet. thank you, my child.”
“oh no, hani.” ivan’s eyes gleam. “thank you.”
.
.
.
the next time ivan visits the beachfront market, there’s one less stall.
that’s okay though. ivan’s had his fill of blueberries for a long time to come.
.
.
.
when ivan breaks the news to them, hyunwoo and hyuna don’t take it very well. and that’s putting it lightly. at least, judging from hyunwoo’s screeching.
“what do you mean you let her die peacefully at home?!”
ivan has to physically pull the phone away from his ear in order to process the words. he doesn’t get the chance to answer through because hyunwoo is on a roll.
“you could’ve had tea with her or some shit, and waited for her to go unconscious. you could’ve brought her here and we could’ve kept her in the basement for a few days! we have knives, ivan! we have knives that go unused because you keep killing them so clinically! god damn, it’s like our existence is useless to you or something.”
ivan giggles. “i thought it would be the decent thing to do, hyunwoo,” he says cutely. “after all, hani is well loved by the community.”
“please, everyone hated the old bat. she was so fucking nosy. and what’s more—”
“ivaaaaaaaaan!”
and here comes hyuna.
“why don’t i get to burn her?! do you know how much i’ve been looking forward to burning that bitch? it would’ve been so nice if i could’ve seen the light leave her eyes, but—”
“hyuna-noona,” ivan interrupts. “who says you don’t get to burn her? you can still amputate any part of her that you like and have it as a keepsake.”
“...she’s coming to the crematory?”
ivan nods, even though neither sibling can see it. “yup! her family posted the announcement on facebook just earlier today. no burial for her, just cremation. didn’t you see?”
“nope. i don’t use facebook. hyunwoo does though, why didn’t you tell me, you brat?”
“oops. sorry, noona. but it’s still not fair we can’t kill her ourselves. ivan, you’re taking away all the fun out of it!”
“life’s not fair, hyunwoo~” ivan sings, “but it can still be fun. you can chop off her fingers. i know you like saving those the best.”
“you’re right, i do. i like preserving them in the basement. hm... okay. i’ll chop off a finger or two.”
“oh, but hyunwoo?”
“yes, ivan?”
“can you give me her ring finger? i want to bury the bone fragments underneath my lime tree. i’ve already buried yang underneath the anemones.”
hyunwoo’s deep laugh comes through loud and proud.
“the matchmaker loses her ring finger. the irony is quite... cutting, haha.”
“that was lame, hyunwoo, haha.”
“haha. but you got it. i can definitely do that for you. just make sure you get till to take some time off for our next game night, okay? i’m sure it’ll cheer noona up to see till too. you know how much she loves to tease him.”
ivan smiles. “that i can do.”
the two hang up not long after that.
ivan thinks about his aforementioned lime tree, thinks about how hani would make an excellent addition to the plant. he then remembers that some of his limes are ripe for the picking.
ivan hums as he grabs his gardening hat.
better go grab them before they decay.
.
.
.
till finds his beloved in the garden, donned in a large straw hat and green gardening gloves. ivan is crouched on the ground, wicker basket on the side, and is carefully inspecting each lime on their pair of lime trees to decide whether or not it’s time for them to be finally used in the household.
ivan greets him when till’s shadow covers ivan’s form, but he’s cut off when till plucks the lime in his hand, tosses it in the basket, and grabs ivan by the hands.
till pulls, pulls, pulls until they’re twirling around like a couple of school girls during recess. ivan laughs, loud and unrestrained, and till smiles, because he only ever wants to see his husband happy and unashamed to live life.
finally, the two draw closer and closer to one another, until till’s arms are around ivan’s waist and ivan’s hands are on till’s shoulders. they slow dance to the music of a bright, sunny afternoon. there’s an orchestra of chirping birds, of wind chimes hung on the patio, of the rustle of wind and leaves, of the crunch of the dry grass underneath their feet.
they dance and they dance, and they smile and they laugh, and they’re happy.
they’re so happy, with themselves and one another.
because it’s always been tillandivan, ivanandtill, a one-word solution to any of their problems.
because nothing can stop them when they’re together.
.
.
.
‘allow me, to the tips of your fingers / allow me, to the ends of your feet...’
till’s voice echoes in the living rom while the storm outside strikes hard and strong.
the song playing on their trusty cd player came on a mixtape for one of ivan’s past birthdays, produced and sung by his very own husband. it’s one of ivan’s favorite gifts because the flow and vibe complement his mood whenever he’s doing laundry, just as he’s doing now.
ivan glances at his apple watch, sighs, and folds yet another one of till’s oversized night shirts. the owner of said shirt is gone on yet another trip, this time to thailand. normally, ivan wouldn’t worry. he wouldn’t care about the details of till’s trip, nor the names of the coworkers joining till on the trip.
but now he knows a bit more, now he has a taste of what till may be involved in. nothing confirmed though. unfortunately, when ivan attempted to ask, till remained as tight-lipped as always.
ivan is just about to grab the batch of unfolded small laundry in the second basket when a loud bang on the front door shocks him to his core. he stills, waits for a minute thinking it was just his imagination, but then the noise comes again. the banging, much louder than before, continues for another quarter minute or so, and ivan finally rushes to the door.
he doesn’t know what to expect when he opens the door, but it isn’t this.
this: till, the flower of his life, drenched from head to toe, leaning heavily against the door frame, a red right hand clutching his left side in a tight grip.
“shit.”
ivan doesn’t hesitate, simply gathers his husband into his embrace and rushes him to the couch.
he doesn’t bother speaking, because till’s breathing is labored and ivan doesn’t think his soulmate could even relay a single coherent sentence from the way his eyelids seem to droop every couple seconds, even with the way till’s fighting hard to stay awake.
ivan doesn’t bother speaking, but he screams. he screams inside his head enough for the both of them.
till all but collapses into the plush of their couch, head on one arm rest and feet propped up on the other. ivan leaves him, shivering and miserable, for just a couple seconds to grab his favorite shears from the kitchen. when he comes back, till has curled up on his side, on the side that isn’t hurt. ivan sighs, but pushes him onto his back again, starts snipping away at till’s clothes.
till tries to curl up again once ivan’s peeled off the multiple layers hiding his pallid skin, but ivan simply clicks his tongue, keeps him in place so he can’t do so.
“don’t be a brat, till. you’re going to let me take care of you.”
ivan’s words are stern, but his tone is softer than a lamb’s wool coat.
“v-vani...”
“shh.” ivan grabs one of the nearby freshly-washed hand towels and dabs at till’s sweaty forehead. he tries to distract himself from till’s broken voice, from the palpable pain within it,
he quickly shifts his attention to the wound. till has a slash right under his rib cage on the left side, about ten centimeters in length, no idea how deep. he grabs yet another towel, this one made of cotton and smelling like vanilla and rosewater, and gently applies pressure. the soft blue of the towel makes way for a harsh red that takes over. ivan keeps applying pressure until he decides he needs to get up again.
“tilly?” ivan waits, speaks again when till’s eyes flutter open weakly. “keep your hand here for me? i need to grab some things.”
ivan hopes his voice isn’t as shaky as he feels.
till’s eyes close again, but he reaches over slowly, keeps the towel pressed against the bloody skin. ivan hurries back to the kitchen, grabs what he needs as quick as he can.
it’s strange, this blood is.
ivan’s no stranger to the concept of the flowing red river, of wounds so fatal that breaths have ceased. but tonight, it’s strange. ivan’s never been so scared to see the red rain fall so harshly, so uncontrollably. usually he laughs; now he struggles to think straight.
it’s strange.
it’s strange how different everything is because it’s till in danger of losing his life.
ivan returns to till’s side, crouches on the floor next to him. till lets go of the soaked bloody towel, lets his hand dangle uselessly, lifeless and pale. ivan dabs his damp cloth around the bloody puncture, tries his best to clean the area. his cloth darkens quickly, much too quickly. ivan rinses the cloth in a bowl of water, wrings it, starts to clean again. all the while, ivan’s heart screams and screams.
he can’t seem to stop.
why can’t he stop?
after some time, till starts to stir. he tries to prop himself up, much to ivan’s alarm.
“till, lie down!” he scolds. “this isn’t the time to act tough.”
till licks his dry lips, swallows audibly. “vani... call luka.”
ivan frowns. “why luka? shouldn’t we—”
“no. no.” till tries to stare him down, but it isn’t the least bit effective, not with the condition he’s in. “no hospital. no doctor. call luka.”
there’s a beat of silence before ivan moves again. he taps on his watch, waits for luka to pick up.
“this better be important, ivan. it’s late.”
ivan’s voice is clipped and annoyed when he speaks. “till’s hurt. he said to call you.”
“what? he’s supposed to be out of town. why is he home?”
ivan grits his teeth. “gee, i do wonder. maybe you could tell me. after all, you guys are in the same department at work, right?”
“oh. yeah... i’ll be there soon then. fifteen tops.”
the call drops.
ivan sighs, grabs till’s hand and holds on tight. “i called him.”
till has a hint of a smile, but even then, it’s barely there. “ivan... best ivan... love you so... much.”
“idiot.” ivan grabs his cloth again, and begins to work away once more. “you realize you’re in trouble, right? big trouble.”
“ah ha.”
till coughs wretchedly, and ivan’s just glad to see the red isn’t staining his lips.
that kind of red doesn’t belong there.
.
.
.
luka does indeed arrive in less than fifteen minutes. he’s got a medical kit with him, one with quite an extensive amount of tools.
ivan raises a brow at him. “i didn’t know you were licensed to perform on people medically.”
“not legally,” luka says, avoiding eye contact with him.
when he does attempt looking at ivan, ivan glares at him so fiercely that he instantly turns away again, turns back to his patient in a swift second. luka hesitates, then tries to speak again. ivan grants him no mercy.
“no, luka. i will not wait in another room. i’m staying right here. i’m watching you.”
luka closes his mouth.
as he works, luka realizes that maybe the scariest part about their job isn’t the job itself. maybe it’s dealing with their significant others when they eventually find out what they do.
he thinks about hyuna, about what she would say when she inevitably finds out, and shudders internally.
but, he muses, till definitely has it worse than him.
hell hath no fury than a protective househusband scorned.
.
.
.
till is sentenced to two weeks worth of bed rest and is on medical leave from work for a month. after about a week and a half, ivan’s patience runs paper thin.
he wakes up, and the first thing he sees is till’s sleepy face. his husband is snoring away, light as it is, and doesn’t get to see, or feel, ivan planting a small kiss on his forehead.
ivan does his morning routine in the bathroom, making sure to spend time on his skincare, before coming round to till’s side of the bed. he stares lovingly at his husband’s sound form before grabbing his heavy memory foam pillow from their bed. he then proceeds to whack the fuck out of till with said pillow.
“what the fuc—iva—!”
till startles awakes and tries to sit up. he has to endure another couple minutes of face bashing.
“i—ivan, st—stop—!”
with one last powerful smashing hit, till is sent flying against the headboard and he earns a large bump on the back of his head. he clutches his head with a groan, squints through the pain to see a blank-faced ivan standing before him. “what the fuck, ivan? what’s wrong with you?”
“ex-cuse me?” ivan’s eyes are brighter than hellfire. “i’m the only one who should be saying that.”
till gulps.
“my dear husband. you were supposed to be on a business trip,” ivan starts, voice calm and controlled. “you were supposed to be sitting in a restaurant wearing a three-piece suit, trying to wine and dine some fancy investors with hopes that they would give you their lunch money so you can continue to do stock market shit.” ivan holds the pillow up over his head and is pleased when till visibly cowers. “why is everything i just said all wrong?”
“uhh.”
till’s eyes are above ivan.
“focus on my face, till. not the pillow.”
till looks down and focuses. he focuses a lot.
“you look really good, vani baby. i like your face.”
“shut up,” ivan says scathingly. “i know i look good. i know you like my face. you married me. now you have one minute to tell me the truth, tilly. and i want all of it.”
till throws his hands up. “okay, okay. um... you know what my job title is, right? the official title?”
ivan frowns, but doesn’t let go of the pillow. “something like ‘business project executor,’ right?”
till nods furiously. “yes, exactly. but, um, the job role is something more like... executioner than executor.”
ivan blinks.
till smiles charmingly, hoping to earn some goodwill.
despite everything, ivan lowers the pillow. “so... you, like, execute people? for work?”
till’s smile dips into one of the nervous variety. “well... you aren’t wrong about what i do, per se. i do wine and dine our investors. however, the nature of the business is a little... risky. we don’t just exchange money, but information too. when someone on the other side tries to sell our information or betray us in any other way, well... they essentially have a bulls-eye painted on their back. so one of our teams, usually mine, is sent out on a mission to... uhh...”
here, till gets even more nervous. but ivan isn’t an idiot and can easily connect the dots.
“you kill people?” ivan asks, eyes narrowed.
“well, um, you see, haha, i don’t personally kill them.” till finally seems a bit more scared for his life, much to ivan’s satisfaction. “like i said, i have a team. i’m in charge of training and leading them, and it’s my job to guide them from a safer location since my clearance is higher and it’s a risk to have me on the field.”
“so why were you hurt?” comes ivan’s pointed question. “why are you always hurt?”
till does his best not to stammer. “um, this time, we thought we were done with our mission in bangkok early, so we came home. i wanted to surprise you. but they were waiting here for us, for me in particular. not sure how they got info about me, but... i didn’t realize how badly i was hurt until i was already on my way home, otherwise i would’ve gone straight to the office, haha.”
ivan looks murderous. till just chuckles awkwardly, hoping to lighten the tension, but it’s all in vain.
“and, well, um, the other times are all when i’ve had to, uh, step in for someone else on my team. leadership, you know, haha?”
it’s not funny.
“um... what else... i, uh, specialize in explosives and weaponry? i don’t take hits well? funny, right, because you’re always hitting on me, right? right?”
it’s still not funny.
ivan tosses the pillow behind him, takes a step closer to till’s side of the bed. it’s unnerving how deadly he looks. till is quite appropriately scared for his life.
“so... you kill people?”
ivan’s voice is all but disbelief, and till ultimately bows his head, finally ashamed. “yes, i do.”
“you kill people for money? as a career?”
“i do.”
“how many?”
till is unsure of what ivan means. “how many... people have i killed?”
ivan nods.
“i’m not sure of how many per se, but... my team celebrated our sixtieth successful mission last month. by now, we’re close to sixty-five.”
“oh my god.”
till gulps, eyes pleading. “vani, baby, i’m sorry i kept this from you. i know you’re probably disgusted with me. i know what we do is wrong, but baby, i’m still the same till you know and love. and you’re never in danger with me. i—”
“you’ve killed over sixty people, till. sixty people.”
till mistakes the wondrous awe in ivan’s voice for shock. “baby, i’m so sorr—”
“oh my god, that’s so hot.”
till opens his mouth, registers, closes his mouth, and then opens up like a guppy again. “huh?”
ivan’s eyes are shining. “you kill people as your literal job and you didn’t tell me? you actually didn’t tell me? all our income comes from dead people? till, we’re husbands! we’re partners for life! at least tell me when all our money comes from you killing people!” ivan grits his teeth. “god, it’s not fair. all this time, you’re getting paid while i’ve been stuck doing the same thing for freaking free!”
this is the point where till loses the plot.
“what?!”
ivan sends him a scathing look. “where do you think officer yang went? where do you think homophobic hani went? where do you think our last pool boy went after he stole my lingerie?”
till gapes. “i thought yang just quit? no one made enough of a fuss about him. and didn’t hani die of a heart attack? and what? that kid stole your lingerie? since when? why didn’t you tell me?”
“because i had it handled! i’m not exactly lazy or unable to take care of things myself!” ivan widens his eyes, struck with a supposed realization. “you... don’t think i’m lazy, do you?”
“why would i think you’re lazy?! vani, you work harder than anyone i know! i just didn’t know it extended to...” till tapers off, at a loss for words. “there’s no way. there’s no way you actually... did you actually...?”
“i did,” ivan says proudly. “i take credit for them. they were pests of society and no one misses their pathetic selves. there’s a lot of filth out there in the world, tilly, and i like to take it upon myself to get rid of the parts that affect our lives. i’m no saver of the world. just of us.”
till has too much he wants to say, too much he wants to ask. “vani. vani. you k—how many people have you—?”
he can’t bring himself to finish. his ivan? his ivan? his pure, precious angel ivan?
perhaps it’s the right question to ask though, because ivan suddenly turns shy, demure. “it’s just me, i don’t have a team like you do, and i don’t keep track of any milestones. but... i know for a fact my body count is in the thirties. i’m quite pleased with that number too.”
till’s mouth drops open once again.
he closes his eyes, finally feels the throbbing headache from the skull bashing he received earlier, but now doubled from all the information he’s received.
“i should say something, but honest to god, the only thing i can think of right now is how cute you are.” he looks at his baby again, and melts. “god, you’re so fucking cute. you’re just trying to take care of us, aren’t you?”
“of course, i am.” ivan smiles, but it wavers. “you’re not mad?”
“mad?”
ivan squirms, a bit uncomfortable. “that i kill people. i do it because i want to help, but it’s still mostly for fun. i don’t do it because i have to like you.”
till is once again blasted in the face by how much he adores his cute husband. “vani, you’re so fucking lovely. how could i ever be mad at you? i mean, are you mad at me? for doing what i do?”
“no way,” ivan says, shaking his head. “i was upset that you kept it from me, because there’s the possibility of you coming home to me hurt and i wouldn’t know why. but the actual matter is fine. i couldn’t be mad at you because of it.”
“then see?” till chuckles. “you’ve proven my point. neither of us is mad. so let’s just do as we do.” he smiles wide, and is happy when ivan smiles back. “i promise to be more honest with you about work. i can’t tell you everything, because some matters have to stay classified, but i won’t hide from you, ivan. not anymore. and in turn, you can feel free to tell me about all your home-life activities. i’m kinda curious about how you pulled everything off, haha. maybe i could learn something from you.”
“tilly...”
till’s tone is solemn, but his eyes are soft, soft, soft. “i love you, ivan. just as you are, forever and always. that’s my oath to you. the moment i leave you is the moment i die.”
ivan gulps, eyes wide and shiny. he kneels down by till’s side, lays his head on till’s lap. he doesn’t want till to see his tears.
“i promise too, tilly,” he starts, breathing a bit heavy in an attempt to keep from crying. till threads his fingers through ivan’s hair, revels in the silky locks, encourages him to keep going. “you’re my only and only. i could never be true to myself with anyone else. thank you for letting me be me. i love you so much.”
till leans down, places a small kiss on ivan’s earlobe. “and i love you, vani.”
ivan lifts his head slowly, laughs weakly as he wipes away a stray tear. “don’t think you’re off the hook though, till. you still have to be punished.”
till chuckles, settles back comfortably against the headboard. “you do that, baby. i’ll accept whatever you want to dole out to me.”
ivan nods. “and you have to promise me something, till.”
“yeah?”
ivan gazes into till’s eyes. “promise me you’ll never appear hurt or in pain in front of me ever again. never do that to me again. i was terrified.”
till visibly softens at ivan’s sad tone. “never. that’s a promise. i won’t ever break it.”
“good. now, prepare yourself.” ivan smiles his signature fanged smile. “you’re in for a lot of hurt and pain today.”
“didn’t you just say—”
click.
they both look down at till’s wrists.
“hey, vani?”
“yes, tilly?”
“why am i wearing these very professional pair of handcuffs?”
“because officer yang was nice enough to let us borrow before he left this world.”
“what?”
ivan pulls his shirt off in on swift motion, steps out of his baggy sleep shorts.
“i’m horny. you’re hot. oh, and this is your punishment. hence the restraints.”
“uh, i’m supposed to be on bed rest for another couple days, baby,” till states unsurely.
ivan hovers over him threateningly, shadow covering till almost completely. “do i look like i care, tilly?”
“...you make a valid point. excellent. please continue.”
“oh, i intend to.”
and without much more fanfare, ivan captures till’s lips in a searing kiss.
it’s not gentle in the slightest. their kiss is messy, hot, filled with the kind of hunger that makes till want to reach up and hold ivan tight in his arms. unfortunately, the handcuffs do an excellent job of squashing that intent. ivan’s fingers slide into till’s hair, holding him still as he deepens the kiss.
they break apart for a few seconds, and till tries to chase him, tries to surge up and claim ivan once again, but ivan places a hand on his chest, stopping him with a chuckle.
“i’m in control today,” he murmurs. “you’ll take everything i give you without complaint.”
till’s frustration grows and he wants to fight back, but ivan simply kisses him again, hard and deep. ivan seems to thrive off the tension till is enduring, like he’s feeding off of it.
till strains against the cuffs, feeling the metal dig into his wrists painfully, but it’s all for naught. he can’t reach up for ivan, is victim to ivan’s whims. he’s about to give into ivan’s kiss completely when suddenly, much too soon, ivan pulls back.
till’s breath is ragged, eyes dark with wanting. ivan watches his husband with a slow, satisfied smile, thumb brushing the corner of till’s swollen mouth.
“look at you,” ivan whispers. “you’d take anything i give you, wouldn’t you?”
“i would,” till breathes out. “god, i would. ivan—”
“hush. you don’t get to make demands. like i said, i’m in control of everything today.”
ivan reaches for the bedside table, pulls open the drawer and grabs some lube. he removes his underwear, letting his hard cock bob free, before positioning himself over till once more. till’s eyes are trained on the angelic vision ivan makes, in awe of his gorgeous husband.
ivan warms up some lube between his fingers while his other hand is placed on till’s chest, keeping him in place so he can’t move. till licks his lips as ivan reaches behind himself and presses his lubed fingers at his hole, circling the rim before pushing in ever so slightly. the first breach is followed by a moan, and till strains against the handcuffs once again.
“behave yourself,” ivan teases, working his finger in and out of his hole before allowing himself another finger. he stretches himself out well, wanting to be fully prepared for till’s thick cock.
till seems desperate to touch ivan now. because his hands are handcuffed in front of him, he’s able to reach out with both hands and envelop ivan’s cock with them. ivan, not paying attention to till, wasn’t expecting the touch and moans loudly at the stimulation. he doesn’t stop till though, so till grins and works his handcuffed hands over ivan’s cock, letting precum coat his palms and make the slide easier.
emboldened by this permission, till leans closer, so close that he’s eye level with ivan’s chest. experimentally, he sticks his tongue out and laves it over ivan’s bare nipple. immediately, ivan lets out the sweetest sound, pausing his fingering and arching his back slightly.
“you’re so cute, baby,” till mutters before he engulfs ivan’s nipple with his entire mouth, sucking and biting hard. ivan tries to keep his noises quiet, but to no avail. he can’t help but moan at till’s ministrations. when till is satisfied with his work on one nipple, he swiftly switches to the other, not wanting to leave it neglected. all the while, ivan preps himself, though it is a much more difficult task with all the pleasure till is pulling out of him.
finally, when ivan deems himself ready, he shoves till’s head away from his chest and moves so that till’s hands aren’t touching his cock anymore.
“i’ve let you have enough fun, tilly, but don’t forget,” ivan says with an angelic smile, “that this is still a punishment.”
ivan reaches down, pulls till’s cock out from the confines of his pajama pants. he wraps a fist around till, pumping hard a few times, pleased at how hard till has become throughout their play. without more warning, ivan lines himself up with till’s cock and slowly sinks down on it, groaning when inch by inch, till fills him up completely.
till hangs his head back, eyes closing at the utter bliss he is feeling. ivan is tight and hot around him, like a vice that’s meant to be torture upon him.
ivan breathes hard, whimpering a bit at how full he feels with till sheathed inside him, knowing he can’t stay seated still for too long. slowly, he rolls his hips, groans at the pulse of pleasure running through his body. he lifts off till’s cock slightly before slamming down once again.
till lets out a noise of defeat and ivan feels victorious.
from there, ivan rides his husband hard and fast, relishing in the noises till lets out, pleased at the tears of frustration pooling in till’s eyes when he fights against the handcuffs, wanting so badly to touch ivan in front of him.
“having fun, tilly?” ivan smirks, chest heaving beautifully.
till whines petulantly. “baby, please, let me touch you. it’s been long enough, please.”
“nope,” ivan says playfully, rolling his hips down deep, having fun at till’s expense. “i decide everything. and i decide that you must suffer a little.”
“i’m suffering a lot though.”
“hm. not enough, i think. suffer some more for me, will you?”
and it goes on. ivan teases till thoroughly as he rides his cock, making fun of how hard till feels and how pent up he must be after spending so much time in bed resting due to his injury. till tries to reach for ivan’s cock every so often like before, but ivan simply brushes till’s restrained hands away, not caring for the stimulation.
eventually, till starts breathing a bit heavier.
“vani,” he groans out, voice rough and deep, “i’m close. please, baby, i need to cum.”
“oh, you do?”
without warning, ivan pulls himself off till’s dick and till cries out at the sudden loss.
“no!”
ivan chuckles, leans in to kiss till’s cheek lovingly. “desperation looks good on you, dear husband. don’t you worry, i’ll let you cum. you just won’t be able to do it when you want.”
“what do you—ahhh!”
ivan takes till into his mouth, sucking on the head while his hands stroke his length. till prays to a higher power and to ivan himself, praying he can finally cum. just when till is about to burst, ivan removes his mouth and grabs till at the base of his dick, holding him tight so that he can’t cum.
till screams at the loss of release. “ivan!!”
orgasm denied, till thrashes against the handcuffs once again, this time more wildly. ivan simply giggles at how cute his husband is acting, wanting to take a video so badly. it would be so fun to rewatch this later, but he doesn’t want to embarrass till too much.
the ache lingers within till’s body, and when his eyes finally meet ivan’s serene expression, till gulps when he sees the intent behind those dark, starry eyes.
“just so you know, we’re far from done. you better prepare yourself, tilly.”
and so, ivan edges him three more times before finally letting till cum.
till was never the same again.
but hours later, when their play has come to an end, ivan grants him the most sweetest kiss, and till can’t help but think that all that torture might have been well worth it.
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(“tilly?” / “yes, baby?” / “for our anniversary, can we...” / “mm? don’t be shy, love. what can i do for you? i’ll do anything.” / “can we... can we share a kill?” / “oh. oh, sweetest. i’d be honored. do you have someone in mind?” / “ah, yes! let me go get my list!” / “oh my god, he has a fucking list.” / “tilly, hurry up!” / “haha, i’m coming, vani.”)
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8970, marine city 1-ro, haeundae-gu, busan.
property of choi till and kang ivan, partners in crime, soulmates surpassing time.
home of fresh strawberries whipped with cream, of sugary smiles that beckon one closer to the other, of hands adorned with wedding rings that always reach out to hold one another.
home of twinkling fairy lights taped to the staircase banister, of whistling kettles as they get ready to pour a hot cup of tea, of desserts that are perfect for one and much too sweet for the other.
home of rolling rivulets of red rain, of lemon juice amongst baking soda, of peroxide amongst bleach.
home of the horniest, sappiest pair of murder husbands one could ever find on the beaches of busan.
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