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Ivan was a school jock, always smiling, always flirting, always perfect. So goddamn perfect it hurt anyone who looked at him. He was asked out daily, his black eyes with those red pupils that could drag you instantly into a trance. His frame was lean and muscular, those perfect biceps looking like he could crush a watermelon with just his forearm – which he could. Not to mention his smile. It was a crime against anyone's wellbeing. That stupid adorable snaggletooth, it stuck out of his lips slightly every time he smiled a bit too wide.
Till was the opposite.
Till was skinny, weird and his face was full of piercings. He spends his days in the art room or music room. He had shaggy grey hair and teal eyes that pierced the soul. His face was always adorned with a frown. He had around 12 – maybe even more – piercings. After 10 he just stopped trying to count. His ear alone had 5. He was always either playing his guitar or doodling the girl he liked in his sketchbook.
Mizi..
The girl of his dreams. She was utterly perfect. Everything she did was angelic, from the way she moved her hips when cheering, to the way she smiled. It was all perfect. Her hair was a perfect pink that faded to a dyed blue at the bottom. She was on the cheer team, the head cheerleader. Till wasn't a huge fan of the cheer costumes himself but gods did they look good on Mizi. The skirt was short and red, the top was cropped and hugged her figure perfectly. It had AKANT written in large letters on the front.
Till could never say no to her, which is how he ended up here. At a party he hates with people he hates.
Till never had liked parties, to many people and far to many drunks. Yet somehow he always ended up at Mizi's parties. She was sweet and enjoyed his music so much that any time she planned to have a party.. Till was her go-to for music. It was sweet, and made Tills' heart fly out of chest. But there always was one downside to Mizi's parties. Ivan. He was at every single party, even the ones Till didn't go to.
Ivan was the life of every signal party. He was the golden boy of school and the golden boy of parties. He was rich and powerful so he always ended up with the best liquor and drugs. His body was a hit with all the females. Everyone (except Till) wanted a piece of that ass. No one ever got it though,
–
Till had arrived about an hour ago to the party, after his performance of music he silently sat on Mizi's couch nursing a beer. He had a few people come up to compliment his singing but other than that, he was alone. Mizi was somewhere in a corner making out with her girlfriend Sua (yes she was a lesbain. Pink triangle is in fact Tills favorite song.)
"Tilll~"
A singsong voice called out from behind him, a voice he sadly knew all too well.
Ivan stood behind the couch, leaning over and wrapping his arms around Tills shoulders and nuzzling into his neck. Ivan always had been a touchy person with Till. They had known each other since they were kids so it only made sense. Till didn't hate it, not completely. Ivan had always been touchy with him. Though seeing the two of them together was definitely an odd sight, the most popular boy in school with the emo art kid. Not something you see everyday.
"What do you want, ‘van”
"Van" is the nickname Till had given him when they were children, it was dumb as hell. Not to mention corny. But it stuck. Even to this day he uses it. When Ivan was younger he had a speech impediment from hell, so most words were hard to pronounce. His name being one of them. When Ivan introduced himself he said his name horribly wrong, came out sounding kinda like Van, and well, it stuck.
Ivan replied with a small whine and buried his face deeper in the grey hair mans neck. From a distance they looked like the perfect couple, cute, opposites, and childhood friends. But Till had never thought of Ivan that way, and even if he had hed never admit it. They were just friends. Really close friends
Its clear by the way he was acting that Ivan was drunk, he seemed to be about 5 or 6 cups in. but considering he had a pretty high tolerance that wasn't that much for him. He was definitely tipsy though. I mean its clear by the way he had his head buried in Tills nack and the way he was whining and bitching. He let his hands that were previously around Tills shoulders fall, feeling around Tills chest and wrapping around him. Tills heart did a whole 360 in his chest, butterflies swarming as he felt Ivan's soft, hot lips against his neck. Not kissing, just pressing.
He mentally slapped himself for thinking that way, he was here for Mizi. he liked Mizi. he wasnt fucking gay.
Ä sound from in front of him snapped him out of his trance, a voice he knew all so well. A voice he truly longed for, Mizi.
"Till !! Come play 7 minutes in heaven with us !!”
She looked at the black haired jock he was hanging all over Till, she had been shipping them for years now. Of course Ivan was all for it, Till though.. Not so much.
"Unless you're .. busy.."
Till vigorously shook his head while trying to push off the hunk of muscles on his shoulders. It was a lost cause though, Ivan was too big. Fucking football..
Ivan lifted his head to speak , a deep rumble from his mouth sounded in Tills ear.
“ill play"
He said while flashing a stupidly perfect grin.
–
So that's how Till ended up here, in a circle full of people he didn't know or didn't like. Mizi and Sua were the designated pickers, choosing names out of a hat for people who had to go in the closet together. Till didn't care about most of these people, a closet with one of them for 7 minutes didn't sound appealing to him.
Mizi stood and called the first few names, Hyuna and Luka, Acorn and Ivan (which Till was NOT a fan of.), and some others. After a while they had to start reusing names. And low and behold, Till's name was finally pulled.
"Ivan and Till !!”
Sua called out with a wicked grin on her face while glancing at her brother Ivan, who seemed to be frozen in place. His face was bright red, Till assumed it was embarrassment. I mean who wants to spend 7 minutes in heaven with their best friend right ?
Boy was he wrong..
He stood up and started his walk to the closet, Ivan was still stuck in place. He didnt move to walk to the closet, he didnt even breath for fucks sake. Mizi was practically dragging him by his hair to the closet, her hand deep in his black locs. Was Till seriously so bad that Ivan had to be dragged to spend 7 minutes with him ? That made him feel just great.
Miizi finally got him in, her face still bright red,
"Have fun ~”
She sang out before shutting the door on the two boys and starting the timer.
This was going to be the longest 7 minutes of his life.
Minute 1
Ivan sat in the small cramped closet, his legs tucked to his chest. The closet was only around 3 feet wide and 5 feet long. It was small in his opinion, but at the same time his family was rich as hell. He was used to walk in closets, designer clothes, and shoe racks. His closet at home was about the size of the room that this closet was in. Since his father owned a multimillion dollar company and was always working he tended to buy his sons love.
His face was beat red and he was pretty sure Till could hear his heartbeat from where he was sitting. His breath was coming in uneven patterns. He couldn't believe this was real, he was in a closet with the boy of his dreams. The light of his life. His god. His universe.
Ivan had never believed in god, he wasn't raised that way. His family wasn't the kind of family that went to Sunday church or prayed before meals. But belief in god was human right ? So if all he could do was believe.. Then can't he choose his own god ? and choose his own he did. Till.. He couldn’t get enough of this boy. Of this stupid, adorable boy.
Till was the first to speak, his voice perfect as rain in Ivan's eyes. It sounded like a lullaby to him, his voice could put him to sleep in seconds.
“So uhm..”
Ivan gulped loudly, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He looked over at Till, his face instantly turning a bright shade of red. He looked like Till when he was around Mizi, which Ivan wasn't a huge fan of.
“Wanna .. make out or something?”
Till said in an awkward voice that made him want to die.
Ivan's body went still and pale as a ghost, right before heating up and turning bright red. He looked like a tomato and his entire body was ridged. He could believe what he just heard, did till, his till, just ask him to make out ? Was this real ? Was he dreaming ?
"Hell yes I do.."
Minute 2
Ivan slowly tilted over Till, his hands reaching up tills thighs to try and steady himself on top of the grey haired boy. Till had suggested making out so he shouldn't really be surprised by this, and he wasn't. What he was surprised by was how much he liked it. Ivan looked ethereal like this. Blushing, stuttering and an overall mess.
Ivan's hands reached up to try and cradle Till's face, though he failed and ended up faceplanting straight into Till's chest with a thud. Despite being on the football team he was not very agile or graceful. Till could feel the large boy's face burrowing deeper into his chest. Ivan's hands reached around and steadied themselves on Tills waist before he sat back up to face him.
"Uhm.. sorry..”
The large black haired man muttered, not being able to face Till.
It was a truly adorable sight, the normally so bold Ivan barely being able to look at Till without blushing. I mean who would've thought he would be able to have this effect on someone. This effect on Ivan of all people.
Till finally moved, his hands reaching up to gingerly touch Ivan's cheek, it wasn't really romantic. Just something he'd seen in a romance movie Mizi made him watch once. He wasn't entirely sure what he was supposed to be doing, he'd never really made out with anyone. Especially not Ivan. This was completely new territory for him.
He saw Ivan shut his eyes, leaning in towards Till. Till tried to copy his movements, tilting his head ever so slightly to the left like he'd seen Mizi do to Sua a million times. It wasn't as scary as he first believed. He knew Ivan wouldn't judge him, never did. So I guess getting his first kiss over and done with wasn't the worst idea.
Ivan's legs were cramped beside Till's hips in the small cramped closet, his hands were steadied on Till's waist and his breath was hot on Till's face. Till could hear his heartbeat from where he was sitting, though that wasn't very surprising due to how close they were. With one sharp breath in he finally felt his lips meet Ivan's.
Minute 3
His lips were soft and soothing, like clouds. Till swore he was going to choke on his own heart. It was pounding so violently in his chest he wondered if Ivan could hear it, feel it, hell maybe even taste it. Ivan’s lips lingered, unsure, like he was scared to break whatever spell they had just fallen under.
Till froze, body stiff and unresponsive, but the heat searing across his face betrayed him. Ivan pulled back just enough to search his eyes, his breath ragged. His eyes burning holes in Till. He hadn't realized just how beautiful the other man's eyes were until now.
“You okay?”
he whispered, his voice low and dripping with concern. Like he knew that if he kissed him too hard he'd disappear.
Till wanted to scream at him, shove him, tell him this was all wrong. Instead he muttered,
“I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”
Ivan’s lips quivered upward, that stupid snaggletooth flashing even now.
“Neither do I.”
And before Till could process it, Ivan leaned in again. This time their lips met with more force, more urgency. It was messy. Awkward noses, teeth clashing, breathless laughter between kisses. Till cursed under his breath, ready to pull back, but Ivan’s laugh softened everything. He pressed his forehead against Till’s, still smiling.
“God,” Ivan murmured, “you taste like beer.”
Till frowned.
“You taste like trouble.”
“Then kiss me again.”
And Till did.
Minute 4
The closet was too small for two boys their size. Ivan shifted, his thigh pressing into Till’s hip, his broad shoulders hunching against the door. It forced Till back into the wall, a hanger digging into his shoulder blade. He hissed but didn’t shove him off.
Ivan’s hands, unsure at first, found their way to Till’s waist. He didn’t grab, didn’t squeeze — just rested them there, like an anchor. Till didn’t realize how much he needed that grounding until his hands stopped trembling.
“I’ve thought about this,”
Ivan admitted, voice low, lips brushing Till’s jaw. His breath hot against till as he slowly dragged his lips down Tills throat, earning a small whine from the grey hair man.
“Way too much.”
Till stiffened, did he really just say that? He thought about kissing him? Since when did Ivan even like boys ?!
“What do you mean?”
Ivan didn't reply, just a light bite down on Tills throat. Then shifting slightly to where his hands were gripping onto the other man's inner thigh. Till’s mind short-circuited. He wanted to push him off, laugh it off, anything. But Ivan wasn’t cocky or playful anymore — he was hungry, real, raw.
“You’re drunk,”
Till muttered weakly, trying to push Ivan off of him. Though it's clear he didn't want to, if he really did he could have pushed him off. The push was more for his ego than anything.
“I’m not drunk enough to make this up.”
And before Till could argue, Ivan kissed him again, harder this time. Like he was trying to prove it.
Minute 5
Till’s brain screamed Mizi. Screamed you’re not gay. Screamed this is wrong.
But his body? His body was betraying him at every turn. His chest was on fire, his hands clutching Ivan’s shirt in desperation, pulling him closer instead of pushing away. Ivan’s lips parted, tongue brushing his lower lip, and Till gasped. That was all it took, Ivan deepened the kiss, slipping in, stealing his breath.
Till whimpered before he could stop himself. His whole face burned, humiliation and something else twisting in his chest.
Ivan pulled back just enough to smirk, lips swollen. His eyes lit up like Christmas morning as he heard the small whimper from Till's lips.
“See? You like me.”
Till scowled, teal eyes sharp even while his mouth trembled.
“Shut the hell up.”
“Say it.”
“No.”
Ivan leaned forward again, teeth grazing his ear. His voice was hot and sultry as he spoke. It was probably the hottest thing Till had ever heard, his body was reacting immediately. His pants are starting to feel tighter.
“Then kiss me like you mean it.”
Till hated him. He hated how much he wanted to listen. But god the second he gave in was amazing.
Minute 6
The closet was suffocating now, heat wrapping around them like a blanket. Ivan braced himself, thighs caging Till in, chest pressing him against the wall. His breath was hot against Till’s cheek, shaky, desperate. His eyes burning holes in Till.
“You’re everything,”
Ivan whispered suddenly, the words raw and shaky in between kissing, his hands finding their way under Tills shirt, trying to pry it off. Only to be rudely denied. Though he was able to keep his hands under the shirt.
Till froze.
“What?”
Ivan wasn't even thinking about what he was saying, just talking. He kissed his way down his neck, tongue licking every spot he bit down on. Soft groans and moans came from Till as Ivan left marks down his neck.
“You’ve been everything. Since we were kids. I just… never thought I’d get this close.”
Till’s voice cracked, biting down hard on his lip to hide the soft moans that slipped from his lips. His hands gripped onto Ivan's hair as he pushed him down harder on Ivan's head trying to keep him in place.
“Don’t say shit like that.”
“Why not?”
Ivan asked, leaning in again
“It’s true.”
Till didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Instead, he kissed him again, because that was easier than thinking.
Minute 7
The door slammed open.
Light blinded them both, harsh and sudden. Ivan flinched back, but his hands stayed glued to Till’s waist. Till scrambled to look casual, but his lips were swollen, hair mussed, chest heaving.
Mizi stood there with a grin sharp enough to cut. Sua was right behind her, covering her mouth to muffle her laugh. Perfect Mizi, with stupid Sua.
“Well, well, well,”
Mizi teased, her voice sing-song.
“Guess our little game worked.”
Till opened his mouth, panic clawing his throat. He wanted to say it wasn’t like that, wanted to say it didn’t mean anything.
But Ivan beat him to it, his voice steady, firm, terrifyingly certain.
“We’re not done.”
His eyes never left Till’s, his lips also never leaving his neck, his arms still under the other shirt.
Till’s heart stopped.
That was the shortest 7 minutes of his life.