Chapter Text
Ivan Kovacic met Lovro Devic when they were both eight years old.
The first meeting did not go well.
"You look like a sissy," Ivan said to the boy with blue streaks in his hair. What kind of boy dyed his hair like that? That was definitely girl stuff.
"And you have an ugly face," the boy shot back, sticking out his tongue, like it was the ultimate insult.
Ivan got angry. He didn't really understand what that meant, but he felt very embarrassed when the kids around him laughed and pointed. That was how he found himself pushing the other boy to the ground in anger.
Of course, it didn't end there, and they ended up tumbling around in the dirt of the playground for 15 uninterrupted minutes.
Eventually, they got tired and just lay there on the ground, staring at each other.
Ivan laughed.
"You fight like a girl."
The boy kicked his leg and sat up. He pointed a finger in Ivan's face and said:
"I do karate. I'm a yellow belt," he said proudly.
Ivan raised an eyebrow.
"Yellow belt? Isn't that like... the second lowest? You probably haven't learned anything."
The boy looked at him with his lower lip trembling. Ivan felt bad at the thought of the kid possibly crying.
He held out his hand.
"My name is Ivan."
The boy hesitated before slapping his hand in a half-hearted high-five.
"Lovro." And he smiled.
"You're pretty cute, Lovro."
Present day
Vito had always suspected.
It wasn't paranoia. It was observation. And, well… he was also gay. That alone came with a certain level of extra attention, a kind of radar he couldn't turn off even if he wanted to.
And that radar had been going off for years.
Years of watching Lovro and Ivan act like they were boyfriends and then swear up and down they were just friends.
"We're friends," they'd say.
"Best friends," they'd reinforce.
Vito just rolled his eyes.
Because he had best friends too. And it wasn't like that.
It wasn’t the way Ivan looked at Lovro when he thought no one was watching, or the way Lovro always ended up closer than necessary, leaning his body toward Ivan wherever they were. Not the over-the-top concern, the touches that lasted a second too long, the stupid jealousy over any random person.
None of that was very… straight.
So, when he opened the apartment door that afternoon and the first thing he heard was Lovro's voice—shaky, tearful, moaning, he only thought: Finally.
"Ow... it hurts so much. Please, go slow…"
Vito's feet stuck to the living room floor, listening closely.
Ivan's voice came through:
"Slow? You know how this works, it's not your first time. It has to be fast and all at once, otherwise it hurts and burns more."
Vito's eyes widened, still not believing what he was hearing.
"You didn't warn me you were going to put it so deep…" Lovro's voice came again, quieter.
Oh my God.
Vito felt his face heat up. Suddenly, he felt embarrassed for them, being there in the apartment he also lived in, in that situation, thinking they were alone.
Did they forget I have a key?
He hesitated for a second.
Then he sighed, gathered his courage, and walked to Lovro's bedroom door.
He pressed his ear to the wood.
Another moan. This time higher. In pain. He jumped back.
Holy shit.
Vito knocked on the door with his knuckles.
"Hey… I'm home."
There was a moment of silence, and then Lovro's voice asked:
"Help me, Vito. Come in here."
Come in? Now?
"Are you two… decent?"
"No," he heard Ivan answer, laughing.
Vito ran his hand over his face. This is too much depravity.
"Open the damn door," Lovro said, his voice strange.
Feeling super embarrassed, he turned the knob and opened the door just a crack at first. Enough to peek without seeing everything.
And then he wanted to slap himself, because the scene he saw was ridiculous.
Ivan was standing next to the bed, holding Lovro's leg with one hand. In the other, a gauze pad red with blood. Dirty cotton balls scattered on the floor. Lovro was sprawled on the bed, all scratched up, dirty, with an ugly cut on his left knee, bleeding.
Vito pushed the door open all the way.
"Fuck, what happened?!"
"He decided he knew how to fly and went down a hill on a skateboard," Ivan said, pressing on the cut with a bit more force. "Except he didn't count on a truck at the end of the street. So, to avoid becoming mashed potatoes, he threw himself into a pile of bricks."
Lovro groaned on the bed just remembering it, his body reacting before he could think, and Ivan laughed quietly.
Vito frowned, worried.
"Did you break anything?"
Lovro shook his head.
He let out a breath, relieved.
"Still, I'm telling your mom."
Lovro's desperation came immediately; he started talking nonstop, trying to stop him.
"No, Vito, I don't want to worry her, and I don't want to go to the hospital, besides, she's going to—"
The sentence got lost halfway, because Vito stopped listening to Lovro's lamenting.
Rolling his eyes, he let them fall distractedly onto Ivan's hand resting on Lovro's thigh, fingers moving slowly, in circles. A slow, automatic caress. He hadn't even realized what he was doing.
Vito narrowed his eyes, the corner of his mouth twitching slightly.
He didn't say anything.
Lovro kept talking for a while longer, his words stumbling over each other, as if the simple act of not stopping would convince someone.
"I swear I'll be fine, I'm not even that bad, it's just my knee and—"
"Okay, I won't say anything to your mom."
"Really? Thanks, man."
Vito nodded and threw himself onto the bed next to him, without asking permission, running his hand through Lovro's blond hair.
"Does it hurt a lot, handsome?"
Lovro made an ugly face and tried to push his hand away with a weak slap.
"Stop that."
Vito backed off immediately, raising both hands in surrender.
"Okay, okay."
He stood up right after, already moving away.
"I forgot, only Ivan can," Vito said as he left the room quickly, before either of them could answer.
The door closed.
Lovro rolled his eyes, staring at the ceiling.
"He's an idiot."
Ivan let out a low laugh, not paying it much mind.
"Whatever."
Lovro was about to answer, but he moved on the bed and the motion pulled at his knee.
"This hurts…" he murmured, pulling his leg in.
Ivan let out a short sigh, already turning his attention back to the injury, easing the pressure as he cleaned.
"Stay still," he said, tilting his face to see the cut better.
Lovro turned his face away, but didn't pull his leg back this time.
Ivan pulled back a bit, analyzing the damage with a critical look, still holding the stained gauze.
"Done. It's clean," he said. He paused, tilting his head. "I think this needs stitches."
"No!" Lovro answered quickly. "Just put a band-aid on it."
Ivan raised an eyebrow, clearly worried.
"Lovro—"
"Band-aid, Ivan. Please."
Ivan huffed through his nose, defeated.
"Fine. But if it gets infected, don't complain later."
He left the room, taking the gauze with him and going to get the band-aid from the bathroom.
As soon as he was alone, Lovro let his head fall back against the bed, exhaling through his mouth.
Going down that hill had been a terrible idea. At the time it had seemed great, the wind in his face, the speed, that feeling of freedom that always came with it. Like nothing could go wrong. Like he was in control.
All lies.
Now he was there, all scraped up, with his knee open and stinging, and he was probably going to have a scar.
All because of five seconds trying to impress Ema… who probably saw everything.
He closed his eyes for a moment, making a face.
Did she get worried?
Or just laugh?
Whatever.
He knew Ivan had been worried. The shout calling his name when he thought Lovro was going to get hit by the truck, that was no joke. It was pure desperation.
Even if later he laughed until his eyes watered.
Still, he'd been very worried.
Lovro smiled without realizing it.
"You look ridiculous."
Ivan's voice cut through his thoughts.
Lovro looked in his direction with a pained face.
Ivan raised his hand.
"Here it is," he said, showing the band-aid.
Lovro narrowed his eyes, trying to focus.
"Is that Hello Kitty?" He wrinkled his nose in disgust.
Ivan huffed. "Do you want the Hello Kitty," he said, raising the band-aid again, "or do you want me to call your mom and tell her you're all messed up after falling off a skateboard and that she should come take you to the hospital?"
Lovro extended his leg toward him immediately. Ivan applied the band-aid calmly, smoothing the edges with his thumb to make sure it would stay in place.
"You're filthy."
Lovro sat up on the bed. "I know."
"So? Go take a shower, you're getting the whole bed dirty."
Lovro didn't even move.
"I don't want to."
Ivan gently pulled his ankle, not enough to hurt, but enough for him to have an involuntary spasm and pull his leg back.
Lovro let out a sound of protest, getting up slowly, limping slightly.
Ivan watched in silence as Lovro pulled his shirt—torn from the fall— over his head, the movement a little clumsy, and headed toward the bathroom.
He went after him, picking up the clothes thrown on the floor.
Ivan leaned against the doorframe, watching in silence.
Lovro stood still in the middle of the bathroom, arms crossed, clearly annoyed at his own situation.
"I can't stand up," he said, making a face. "My knee is throbbing. And when the shower water hits it, it's going to pull everything… it'll hurt more."
Ivan raised an eyebrow.
"You're a little girl, aren't you?"
Lovro grabbed the first bottle he found on the sink and threw it at him.
Ivan dodged easily and let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "Take your shorts off already."
Lovro looked at him, a crooked little smile appearing.
"Just like that, out of nowhere? Not even dinner first?"
Ivan rolled his eyes. "I thought you were too hurt for your gay jokes."
Lovro shrugged, embarrassed. "One thing has nothing to do with the other, does it?"
Ivan stared at him seriously. They looked at each other.
Lovro broke eye contact first, looking away with a low laugh as he sat down on the toilet lid.
"Fill the tub for me."
"Oh, no… then it'll be a pain to clean everything up."
"Please," Lovro insisted. "I can't stand up. I'll help you after, okay?"
Ivan was silent for a moment, evaluating, and then gave in.
"Fine."
He turned around and opened the faucet, water starting to pour heavily into the tub. Lovro watched from afar.
"And put bath salts in," he added.
Ivan let out a sound of disbelief. "Sure. Want candles too?"
Lovro made a face and, with effort, stood up from the toilet, clearly avoiding putting weight on his knee.
He took two unsteady steps and stopped in front of Ivan.
"Can you take my shorts off for me?"
Ivan nodded and knelt to undo the buttons, his fingers quick, and looked up at Lovro with a somewhat incredulous expression.
"Dude… if someone walks in here, that's going to be really hard to explain."
Lovro laughed, bringing his hand to Ivan's head, smoothing his hair lightly.
"Relax. I'll say you insisted too much."
Ivan rolled his eyes and pulled the shorts off carefully, sliding them slowly down his legs until Lovro was just in his boxers.
He stood up again, wiping his hands on his own clothes.
"No one will believe that. You're not my type."
Lovro laughed and grabbed his arm, seeking support.
"You're so spoiled," Ivan complained, but he was already putting an arm around Lovro's waist carefully.
Lovro wasn't affected. "I'm sick."
Lovro leaned on him more, his weight distributed between them as they took short steps to the tub.
Ivan adjusted his grip to keep him steady.
With his help, Lovro managed to get into the tub slowly, holding his breath when the water touched his scratches, his whole body reacting before he finally sank a little deeper.
He stayed there for a second, adjusting, until he let out the air.
Then he looked at his friend.
"Stay here," he said, as if it were obvious. "Because if I try to get up and fall, it'll be your fault."
Ivan left for a moment to get his phone, unlocking it while stopping at the door and starting to text someone distractedly.
In the tub, Lovro stretched slowly, grabbing a sponge. He started scrubbing his arms, removing the dirt and dried blood, wincing every now and then, but persisting.
When he tried to reach his back, the movement pulled at the cut on his knee, and he froze mid-motion.
"Ah," he let out a low groan, frustrated, dropping his head forward. "What a pain…"
Ivan, still with his phone in his hand, looked up toward him.
Then he approached, as if he'd been expecting that, and dropped his phone on the sink.
Without asking, he pulled the sponge from Lovro's hand.
"You're so dramatic," he said, starting to scrub Lovro's back carefully. "Like you've never fallen off a skateboard before."
Ivan kept scrubbing his back, passing the sponge more firmly, cleaning the scratches.
"How did you manage to scratch half your back, man?"
"Talent."
He gently pushed Lovro's body further forward, to reach better. Lovro let him, but turned his face a little.
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?"
"Sure, Lovro. My dream was to give you a bath."
Lovro was quiet. And then he smiled, a diabolical plan crossing his mind.
He cupped some water in his hand and, without looking, threw it backward. The water hit Ivan square on, who jumped away from the tub as if he'd been shocked.
"Oh no, man… look at this."
He looked at his own clothes, now soaked, clinging to his chest. He made a face. He pulled his shirt by the collar and took it off in one motion, letting it fall wet to the floor.
From the tub, Lovro held back his laugh.
Ivan narrowed his eyes, a dangerous smile forming at the corner of his mouth. "Right. Now I'm coming for that knee of yours…"
Lovro's eyes widened.
"No, no—"
Ivan moved closer, and Lovro started splashing water at him. The bathroom began to get drenched, water spraying everywhere.
Ivan tried to get closer to the tub, but with the floor already slippery, he fell.
"Oh my God, are you okay?!" Lovro asked, scared, eyes wide.
Ivan lifted his head, laughing. "Fuck…" he ran his hand over his face, unable to stop laughing. "Now I'm all wet."
Lovro stared at him for a second, then started laughing too.
"Ah, since you're like that… get in the tub."
Ivan let out a breath through his nose, still sprawled on the floor, looking at Lovro. Ivan unbuttoned his jeans, the heavy fabric sticking to his skin; he pulled them down without much patience, dropping them on the wet bathroom floor.
"Scoot over."
Lovro pulled his legs in immediately.
"Careful with my knee."
"I'm going to step right on it."
"Idiot."
The water rose with his weight as he settled in front of Lovro.
Lovro pulled his legs in for a moment, avoiding any bump, and then stretched them out again over Ivan's, finding a comfortable way to sit.
Ivan let out the air, running his hand through his wet hair. "Look at the state you've left me in."
They were both quiet for a while. The warm water, already lower after all the splashing.
The bathroom fell quiet, only the soft sound of water moving whenever one of them shifted.
Ivan rested his head on the edge of the tub. Lovro did the same, his shoulders finally relaxing.
For a moment, neither felt the need to say anything.
Until Lovro broke the silence.
"Do you think it's good to have sex in a bathtub?"
Ivan opened one eye.
"I don't know. Never tried."
Lovro made a circle in the water with his finger.
"It must be good."
Ivan turned his face toward him, a half smile appearing.
"Want to test it out?"
Lovro raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to give it to me?"
Silence.
They stared at each other, serious.
One expression reflecting the other, as if they'd both realized at the same moment what had just been said.
And then they broke.
Lovro threw his head back, laughing loudly, while Ivan bent forward a little, laughing too, shaking his head.
After a while, the humor faded and the laughter died down slowly.
Lovro straightened his head, looking in Ivan's direction, his eyes shining a little. The question came almost without warning, crossing his mind too fast; he even considered leaving it alone, but before he could stop himself, he was already asking:
"If you were going to have sex with a guy… what kind of guy would you choose?"
Ivan's face changed for a second, a quick twitch in his jaw, his eyelids narrowing. He looked nervous.
But then he straightened his shoulders in the water, and that relaxed mask returned.
"I'm straight," Ivan said. "And I'm very comfortable with my sexuality," he added.
Lovro cupped some water in his hand and threw it in his face.
"Me too. It's just a hypothetical question, so answer."
Ivan wiped his face roughly, passing his hand over his eyes.
"Hypothetically…" he began. "It would be a guy like you," Ivan said, his eyes meeting Lovro’s for a moment before quickly looking away.
Lovro blinked, caught off guard. "Me?"
"Like you," Ivan repeated.
"Why like me?"
Ivan sank a little deeper into the tub, relaxing his body. The water hit his chest as he watched Lovro more closely, as if he were really analyzing him.
"Because… I don’t know. You’re handsome."
Lovro tilted his head, curious. "I am?"
Ivan gestured vaguely with his hand, as if trying to explain something hard to put into words.
"In a masculine way, of course. I don’t know how to explain it right."
Lovro leaned forward slightly, genuinely interested now. "Now I want to know."
Ivan wrinkled his nose, his lips pressing into a line as he watched Lovro again. Then his expression changed, as if he’d reached a conclusion.
"Your nose is kind of feminine."
Lovro frowned, finding the answer strange, and automatically brought his hand to his nose.
Ivan didn’t let the moment stretch.
"Okay," he said quickly, cutting off the subject. "What about you?"
He shifted in the tub, resting his arm on the edge and turning toward Lovro.
"What kind would you choose?"
Lovro let out a nervous laugh, looking away as he ran his hand through his wet hair, clearly trying to buy time.
"I don’t know."
Ivan didn’t let it slide; he narrowed his eyes, staring at him more intently than usual. "'I don’t know' isn’t an answer."
Lovro laughed again, weaker this time, shaking his head as if he didn’t even take it seriously.
"Ah, I really don’t know."
Ivan stayed silent, waiting. The weight of his gaze made Lovro exhale and sink a little deeper into the tub, defeated.
"Okay… maybe… someone who has something I wish I had."
Ivan tilted his head, intrigued. "Like what?"
Lovro shrugged, trying to sound casual. "I don’t know. Taller."
Ivan raised an eyebrow almost immediately. "Vito?"
Lovro reacted instantly. "No, God forbid," he denied quickly. He thought a moment longer, then added, "Someone with money, or more muscular than me."
"So… me," Ivan stated.
Lovro bit his lip, a little embarrassed, avoiding direct eye contact while thinking fast of an answer that wouldn’t reveal too much.
In the end, he just stretched his leg slowly and gave a light kick to Ivan’s chest, barely any force, as if it were easier than answering out loud.
"Yeah… like you."
They looked at each other but couldn’t hold the gaze for long. The only sound was the soft movement of water.
Vito’s voice broke the awkward silence.
"Lovro! Your mom is here!"