Chapter Text
Ivan's been waiting for Mizi and Sua for an hour before they arrive. It's not unusual, but he's bored, and nervous for tonight. He needs to talk to Mizi to calm some of his nerves. Actually, if he wants to calm down, he should probably talk to Sua.
What kind of impression will he make? He's not always been one to have a very welcoming atmosphere, especially to other guys, which is why he struggles so much to make many meaningful relationships. All the girls he's attracted seem to be toxic as hell, as well. Throw back to yesterday at the coffee house.
What kind of guy will Till be? He's picky as anything when he comes to dating, with looks and personality. It rare enough for him to look at a picture of Till and actually think, shit, he's hot, but he needs to fit his ideal criteria too. As said, picky.
In all fairness, no one wants someone who looks hot but is a dick.
His thoughts are left stewing, rolling around in his head as the pink haired girl walks through the door holding her girlfriends hand chatting excitedly, no doubt about tonight.
Mizi looks around to where Ivan's sat, her hair flicking over her shoulder gracefully. She raises she hand with her bubble tea to acknowledge him, though the shout makes up for the loss of a wave. "Ivan, hey, we were just talking about you!" She calls from across the building.
Glad to be distracted from his swirling doubts, he stands from the couch, crushing the empty sandwich packet in his fist and shoving it in his pocket to be disposed of later.
He raises his hand in a small wave, his snaggletooth hanging out of his mouth as he smiles. "Oh really? Nothing bad I hope." He says, stopping in front of them.
Mizi shoves her bubble tea into his hands with a quick, "Hold this." before trying to find her phone in her bag. Ivan looks down at the sweet drink, pulling a face. Only Mizi would have pure sugar at 10:37 in the morning. He looks from the drink to Sua, who just shakes her head with a smile.
Mizi finally finds her phone with a triumphant noise and fishes it out of her back. Then she just starts walking towards the recording studio, without another word. Ivan and Sua share a glance, simultaneously rolling their eyes before following.
"Mitz, I hate to inform you, but I'm not your bitch." Ivan points out, thrusting her drink back towards her to take. "Take it or it's going in the bin."
Mizi shoots him a glare, scoffing. "Ugh, I hate you so much." She grumbles. Ivan returns it with a big shit-eating grin.
"Love you too." He watches her take a sip, chewing on the mango popping pearls. He wrinkles his nose at it, "Seriously, how can you drink that sugary shit. It's gonna give you diabetes." The pink haired girl sticks her tongue out at him, Ivan crossing his arms over his chest.
She shrugs, taking another sip just to spite him. Sua rolls her eyes again. Honestly at this point, her eyes could get stuck like that. "You two are such children." She sighs.
They get into the recording studio, and the two girls walk towards the booth with the microphone, Ivan moving to behind where the recording equipment is. Ivan doesn't know the first thing about recording sings, but it's interesting to watch them work.
They're currently working on a cover of one of their friends' songs, who became popular around the same time with her song All In. Hyuna, her name was. Ivan had met her once. She was... a lot.
By a lot, he means very friendly. She had ended up kissing Mizi on the cheek, which Sua wasn't too pleased about. It was kinda funny though.
He sits back again on one of the couches, grabbing out his phone again. Boring, he knows.
He checks his bank account, something he got into the habit of. He loves his job, he really does, but he doesn't make nearly enough money, and he's had to cut back on some luxuries lately, like a home cooked meal every night.
He's borrowed money way too much that he'd care to admit from Mizi and Sua, who are always happy to help, but he feels bad when he can't pay them back. They both get a decent amount, and with both their pay together, they can afford much more than the apartment they own.
It's why he feels bad about not earning as much, like he knows that they won't buy a bigger house because then he'll be stuck in his tiny apartment. Honestly, he doesn't really care - it's their money and their job, but it does make him feel a little lonely sometimes.
He's started working more shifts at the café as well, going from four 6 hour shifts to 5 12 hour shifts. It's a huge amount of extra work for not that much extra pay, but it's enough.
Hey, it's life.
He opens his bank app, grimacing at the measly amount in his bank account. He has savings, but he'd really rather not dip into those. It's fine, he gets paid by the end of the week. He has enough supplies to last him until then...
"Ivan!" His voice is called from the other room, but it's clear as day through the microphone, which carries the sound through to the speakers in the room he's in.
He looks up from his phone through the glass at the girls, who beckon him over. They've discussed stuff already? He looks at the time, surprised to realise that he's been staring at his phone, mulling over the facts for a good portion of the hour.
He walks through the door towards the two. "Yeah?" He says, his movements slightly stiff from not moving much in the last 40 minutes.
Sua frowns a little, looking concerned. "You okay?" She asks, tilting her head to the side a little. She does that when she's worried about something.
Ivan waves his hand, clearing his throat, "I'm fine, don't worry, just stuck in my own world for a bit. What's up?" He pushes the concern away like it was nothing. Because it is. He can deal with it.
Sua just eyes him up for a moment before taking a breath, moving on. "We were thinking that after this, you could stop round ours to get ready and have a bite to eat before we head out?" She suggests, Mizi nodding enthusiastically beside her.
Ivan nods, a hint of a smile on his face. "Sounds good. What time do you want me round?"
Mizi checks her watch, like that will help much. "We need to be at Tens for 9, so I'd say between 6-7 ish?" Ivan nods again.
Somehow, they always come to Ivan's rescue. He doesn't even know how, but he couldn't be more grateful.
Mizi cannot cook.
She can do a lot of things, sure, dancing, singing, looking 'slay', but she cannot cook.
For context, she once burnt water. On the stove. While trying to make pasta.
The pasta wasn't even in the pot yet.
Anyway, usually Sua can cook quite well, well enough, and sometimes Ivan will cook if he feels like it, but tonight they've ordered a takeaway.
"Till said he's getting ready." Mizi smiles with her mouth full of rice. They had gotten Indian, a staple in their friendship.
Ivan had arrived about half an hour prior, wearing a white polo neck shirt and black trousers. Mizi took one look at him and dragged him against his will to hers and Sua's bedroom.
He left the room with some black eye shadow under his eyes, a few rings and a singular black stud. He had gotten one of his ears pierced when he was younger - teenage impulses. He never really wore jewellery though. It does look good on him. Maybe he should start wearing it again - he can't deny that he looks good.
Apparently, Mizi thought that his outfit was appallingly straight, and not worthy of going to a gay bar in.
Besides the whole outfit fix, the three are now stuffing their faces with food. Well, two of them are, Sua is much more sophisticated.
Mizi adds more rice to her plate along with a piece of garlic naan bread, looking up and gasping in offense when Ivan whispers 'fatass' under his breath.
Ivan's joking, and Mizi knows that, but doesn't stop her naan from hitting him in the face. Ivan gapes at her, before picking up the naan and flinging it back, his arms crossed over his chest. "Hey, you're going to wreck the makeup you forced onto me." He huffs.
Mizi shrugs. "Serves you right." She smirks, "Besides, I need the carbs for when I get blackout drunk tonight." She says proudly, like it's an achievement.
Sua stops chewing and glares at Mizi.
"What?" Mizi frowns at her, Sua sighing heavily into her food.
"That means I have to deal with your drunk ass tonight when we get home." Sua deadpans.
Ivan snorts. Sua doesn't really drink, like him, she will only have a glass or two of wine, or a beer. They take it in turns to drive, since they both can, and there's no way Mizi will willingly stay sober to be the chauffeur.
Sua's the driver today, since Mizi insisted on Ivan having a few drinks, since he was meeting Till. That didn't give him a lot of confidence about that. Mizi assured him it's fine and the drinks were too make him more fun, which, fair enough. He was a little offended about that.
It's just after 8 when they finish eating, and although they were meeting Till at Tens for 9, in Mizi's words, 'What's the harm in going early'.
She's way too enthusiastic about this. Ivan and Sua both agree she just wants to get drunk.
Ivan insists on driving there so that he can concentrate on anything other than his anxiety. Speaking of, why is he so anxious?
Tens is only a fifteen minute drive from Mizi and Sua's place. It's not a huge bar, but it has what it needs: alcohol, music, funky decor and a dancefloor. It's cozy, that's why the three love it so much. For context, they've been there so often that they don't need to show their ID's anymore.
They have about half an hour before Till supposedly arrives, and the whole time Ivan is tense and anxious. He's suddenly grateful for Sua driving - he needs some alcohol in his system to relax him a little.
Ivan isn't one to drink so much he get's drunk, though it doesn't take much. He has an incredibly low tolerance for alcohol it's kinda funny.
When they step into the building, they're hit with the familiar warmth of people, a stark contrast to the chill of the outside air. Mizi immediately shed her jacket while Sua doesn't seem bothered. Ivan on the other hand didn't even come with a coat, uncaring of the cold outside.
The next thing for him to register is the smell of alcohol, which isn't unusual with the fact that they are in a bar. Coupled with the anxiety, it does make him a bit nauseous.
"Hey." Mizi taps him on the arm with the back of her hand, obviously sensing his discomfort. She looks up at him a little sympathetically, smiling softly at him. "It will be fine, okay? If he's anything like the person he was, you'' love him. If he's not, then we can hit him over the head and make a run from it, and hope he get's amnesia or something."
Ivan laughs softly, chuckling at her attempt to calm his nerves. It does work though, it always does. When she's not being a total dumbass, she's actually a really good friend.
"Thanks, Mitz." He says back, bumping her back with his arm.
They go and sit down at their usual booth, which is conveniently positioned right in view of the doorway, so Till will be able to spot them when he walks in. The actual reason why their table was there is so that Mizi can judge everyone walking in.
A waiter comes to their table, waiting for their drink orders. Mizi has a margarita, Ivan a beer and Sua just has a mocktail. They order some fries too, because Mizi is a hungry drunk. Plus they're good.
Ivan sips his beer, feeling the cold liquid slip down his throat and settle in his stomach. He lets himself relax into the couch, shutting his eyes and breathing in deeply through his nose.
Half an hour passes like an age, though Ivan's not ready when Mizi nudges him. He looks up at the figure walking through the door, silver hair and aquamarine eyes catching his.
Mizi waves him over with a flick of her hand, and Ivan just watches.
Till approaches with an apprehensive look in his eyes. At least that's until he meets Ivan's eyes.
It's quick, but Ivan swears he sees a hint of panic and recognition in his face. It's gone before he has a chance to think about it though.
Mizi waves him over with a quick flick of her wrist, and Ivan stands as she and Sua do.
Till slowly walks over, sheepishly glancing over the table at them. Mizi, on the other hand, has a huge smile on her face.
"Oh my god, Till, it's been way too long!" She lunges forwards to catch him in a hug, squeezing him tightly before letting go. Till opens his mouth as if to reply but she cuts him off. "There's someone who I'd love you to meet."
Mizi looks around at Ivan, puts his hand out for a handshake, a bit of a grin on his face. He said he wasn't good at this.
"I'm Ivan. You must be Till." He says. Till looks at his face, at his hand and then back again, before it.
"Yeah." He mumbles, barely audible over the loud music. When their hands part, Till shoves them in his jacket's pockets.
He's not wearing anything extravagant, a simple green hoodie that matching the colour of his eyes almost perfectly and some black trousers with a silver belt chain. He's not very tall, though Ivan is 6 foot 2, and got some muscle, so everyone looks small compared to him.
He's got the same jewellery encrusted ears from the photo he was shown yesterday, if not sporting a few more pieces of metal. He has a vertical labret and eyebrow piercing now, which just further sharpens his features.
Sometime during his 'deep' analysis, Mizi and Sua sit down. He follows suit, leaving Till still standing.
Mizi nods to the space beside Ivan, which is the only space left, prompting him to smirk to himself.
Till takes a seat, his movements slow and stiff. Ivan can't blame him for being uncomfortable, he probably just needs a drink to loosen up.
And drink he did.
In under an hour, he had moved onto his third drink, still not speaking much, but rather observing everyone else in the bar. Ivan had moved onto his second beer now, already feeling a little light headed.
Mizi on the other hand is almost just as she said she would be. Completely pissed. Sua just looked bored.
At some point, Mizi stood up dramatically, grabbed Till's wrist and dragged him over to the dancefloor where some other drunk people were dancing. Ivan watched with a small smile, his eyes following Till's figure wherever he went.
Mizi was excitedly dancing, swaying to the music and jumping around, just generally having a good time. Ivan looks over to Sua, who's watching her fondly, an affectionate smile on her face. Sua has always been the more docile of the two, a nice soother to the chaotic energy that Mizi is.
What catches Ivan's attention, though, is when Till moves towards another guy, clearly interested in something. He raises his eyebrows as the other man's hands lands on Till's hips, swaying to the music with him.
Ivan likes to think he's impartial to it. Till is an adult, someone he barely knows and has shared nothing but a sentence with him. He shouldn't care.
So why does he?
Ivan left early. He was bored and tipsy and just wanted to go home. He never really liked being in those settings for long anyway.
When he left, Mizi was sleeping on Sua's shoulder, her arm around the pink haired girls shoulders. Till on the other hand was quite happily making out with another guy, pressed up against a wall.
So he's one of those guys.
Ivan unlocked his front door, stepping inside and taking off his shoes. He has to sit down so that he doesn't fall over, the alcohol in his system shifting his equilibrium.
He usually hates the way his head feels after drinking alcohol, especially in the middle of not quite drunk, but definitely not sober.
Yet, the only thing he can think of is Till.
The aquamarine eyes, silver hair, many, many piercings. Sharp features, even sharper eyes.
Being touched by someone else. Possessiveness.
He stumbles to his bedroom, shedding his shirt and trousers, discarding them in the wash. He changes into some clean boxers and the sweatpants he sleeps in before moving to the bathroom to splash his face with cold water.
Get yourself together. You've barely even spoken to him.
It's strange, because Ivan doesn't know how to deal with his feelings. He's never really experienced this before.
Sad? Yes. Happy? Yes. Angry? Yes.
Horny? Absolutely not.
He barely masturbated, didn't feel the need to. It's not like he didn't want to have sex, or was put off by it, but he just hadn't found the right time or person.
He had had sex, once, in college. It was someone who he thought actually liked him. He was wrong.
Anyway, that's not the point. The point is, he has some semblance of experienced, but he'd never before found the awkward situation that he's in right now.
AKA, sporting a raging boner in his bathroom.
Because all he and his stupidly not quite drunk brain can think of is pounding Till into the nearest mattress.
Stupid brain.
It's also his stupid brain that's responsible for leading him back to bed, slumping down against his pillows and groaning.
He barely aware of his own actions as he palms at his aching hard-on, before his hand slips under the waistband of his sweatpants. He wraps his fingers around his length, grimacing at the dryness of his palm.
He starts to stroke up and down, soft pants escaping his wet lips. Fuck, what would Till's hand feel like around him instead of his own?
Rather, what would Till feel like around him.
The though only prompts him to move faster, quickly discovering there's not nearly enough room in his boxers to move.
He pulls himself out, the cool air hitting his flushed skin. Not that he minds - or notices.
His pants turns into moans as his fist moves quicker, his thumb dipping into the slit at the top.
He can feel a heat coiling in his stomach, quickly tightening like a rope about to snap.
Oh how he's love to hear Till moan.
With a cry, he finishes in his hand, his back arching off of his bed as cum splatters on his bare stomach. It takes him a moment to come down from his intense high, his legs quivering slightly.
His eyelids flutter with an unfamiliar urge to sleep, but he forces himself up to wash himself.
He hasn't sobered up much, but once his post-orgasm haze has cleared a little, the only thing on his mind is:
I need to get Till.