Chapter Text
“Take me, burn me, and throw me into the ocean. Please don’t let them get me, Ivan.”
Those are the only words he left behind.
In a form of a scheduled text message.
He was the first to find him, fully clothed in the white bathtub with an arm dangling over the ledge, the slit wrist is still dripping with droplets of red, splattering against the pool of viscous red blood. Ivan can’t remember anything else, he only remember the red. The floor is red, the bathtub is red, and clothes are similarly stained in that same damn red. But he remember being unusually calm, he remember rushing him to the hospital. If there’s a takeaway from all the rushing, it’s that dead people are deadweights.
Ivan Braginsky is nothing but one of the many family, friends, and colleagues of Wang Yao sitting in the pews overseeing the funeral procession. It’s a beautiful white coffin and a beautiful funeral. He did not do what Wang Yao wanted him to. It’s probably revenge, Ivan thought.
He let out a small, light sigh. It’s also probably why not a single tear have fallen.
There’s always something about sex that gives a fantastical illusion of intimacy, an illusion that Ivan often soaked it all up like a desperate sponge, only for reality to slap it out of him cruelly. The usual.
“Say it this one time.” He breathe out in between the kisses. “Please?” the sloppy mouth pushes in again, tasting the soft, slippery tongue peeking out from the other lips. “You love me don’t you? Hmm?” the wet grip from below burns Ivan up with lust. The greedy moans and hurtful grips by Yao made Ivan wanted more, the craving to be loved by Yao and only by him serves as a mean to his increasingly strong desire to fuck him senseless. He wanted to stain Yao’s insides white with his cum, and if he can, he want to tear off Yao’s flesh out mouth by mouth and swallow him up, he wants to drink his blood, he want to do anything for Yao if he could only say what Ivan want to hear.
Two sets of sweat dampened skin creates sensual friction when they are rubbed together, Ivan knows Yao wanted more from this union, so he stopped moving.
“Don’t you?” he whisper, pulling his lips apart and looking at Yao.
Wang Yao is a smart person. Ivan knows. His leverage never works on him, but every single time, Ivan still tries. Wang Yao never looks at Ivan when he is conscious of his own feelings, that, Ivan notices too. “Don’t stop.” Yao mumbles, eyes not reciprocating.
Ivan’s lips trail Yao’s cheek, leaving light pecks across his face, his jaws, his neck. The hurt that came when Yao refuses to look at him always come as a fleeting tiny black dot, he is afraid to be wrong even though he is adamant in his answers, and the emptiness that follows after always feels like a void because the answer is always the same.
“Can…..” Ivan muttered. He slip his arms around Yao and held him close to himself. “Can you pretend to love me then?” If he could, he would like to meld together with Yao, and be together forever.
“Ivan, please don’t do this.” Yao answered. “I don’t want the both of us to get hurt.”
The answer seems to send a bout of despair right into the pits of Ivan’s heart, he tighten his embrace, and for a moment wish that maybe if he held on tight enough, he would be able to smelt his lover’s body into his own forever.
“Ivan, you’re hurting me.” Yao tap on Ivan’s back. “Ivan…. You only thought you like me. It will be the same even if it’s not me.”
“No!” Ivan pulls apart. “Is it because of what I told you before? About my family? No. It’s not the same, it will not be the same if it’s not you. How could you say that? How could you.” But the tears already started forming and before Ivan knew, it crash onto Yao’s face and chest.
Ivan could never bear to be intimate with anybody else, not until Wang Yao showed up. Yet this simple fact became such an unforgiving accusation.
But with a contrastingly tender touch to his arm, Ivan’s emotions seems to be pacified, Wang Yao’s gentle squeeze, his soft pulling, he pulls Ivan back into his arms and gave slow, soothing pats to Ivan’s back.
“Come on Ivan, let’s finish this. You’re still very hard.” Yao whispers in his ears. Ivan could feel Yao’s naughty tongue sliding across his skin, but it’s the last straw. It strike the first match of aggression that is hidden from Yao, Ivan’s hands quick as a flash, held onto Yao’s cheeks. Ivan stare onto that face that made his heart skip a beat every single time, it’s a face that Ivan would give anything to look his way.
“Can you just look at me for once?” Ivan speaks between his teeth. “I’m sorry.” He immediately follow after. “Maybe… We should just stop for today.” Ivan mumble, pulling himself out, looking down to find it covered shamelessly with a thick film of white fluid. It’s still so embarrassingly hard.
“I don’t love you Ivan. We’re just… We’re just friends. What are you going to do about it?” Yao retorted, he sat up and push Ivan down onto the bed, looking down at him. “Huh? What are you doing to do about it? I told you from the start that we can never be anything more than friends. You greedy bastard.” Wang Yao pushes himself down onto Ivan, it slip into him easily.
No more words, except for the sharp, wet slapping sounds and tearful, hitched moans in the air. Ivan pushes it all the way into him, hitting that spot he always knew make the most sound. Wang Yao sit and pull himself up panting, furrowed brows turned up, his eyes are always away. Ivan knows that it’s pleasure that Yao felt, but he knows that it’s also guilt, or was it not? Anyway, it’s nice to be deep inside him, Ivan thought.
But the anger never went away, it was always sort of gone after sex, and Ivan would go back to being a begging mess for his dear Yao again. Maybe all the anger that he thought went away never did, and they just collated bits by bits and today is the day.
He flip over onto Yao again.
The clutches became so hard they leave bruises, the nibble became more demanding, the sucking breaks the skin and draws blood. Ivan’s hands tangled itself in that clumpy, black, and long vein-like hair, he pulls it up to his face whenever Yao tried to look away.
That slight look of indignation and annoyance that flashes across on Yao’s face is tantalizing. Wang Yao never really like looking at him when they are doing it, but Ivan wanted him to. He always wanted him to. Ivan could feel Wang Yao against his skin, the way he breathe, the way he shudder, the way he taste. Wang Yao’s tight, snug, and clammy union with him is so warm and welcoming. The bite marks on Yao’s chest, the bruise and tiny cuts from sucking and nibbling so hard littered all over his body. They are all my markings, Ivan thought. Everything.
“We are more than friends. We are. We… ” Ivan cried; the tears pour out uncontrollably. It is hard to deny these emotions, it is hard to keep them deep inside the heart when Ivan could feel them so strongly he could taste it.
“No, we are not.”
“Why?” Ivan asked, somehow hoping that maybe this time the answer is not the same.
There is the same old silence.
Ivan sniffed. He moved himself up, he wants to see Yao’s face, he wants to know if he meant it. But the tears fell on Yao’s face, it fell all over him. It always ended up like this.
The intense feeling of building up came bursting out, Ivan could himself throbbing inside Yao, he pushes himself all the way in as his cum pours in, he wants everything of himself to be inside Yao. Ivan wipe the tears with the back of his hands, and he heard a light chuckle.
“Look at you, crying and cumming at the same time.” Yao smile at him, pulling himself out from Ivan and sitting up. The white fluid stain the bed, creating a wet whitish patch underneath.
There is only sobbing in the dimly lit room.
As always.
But that day was different. It came out as mere whispers, but Ivan heard him loud and clear.
“You’ll just hurt me. Just like everybody else.”
Ivan sat down facing Yao, it’s hidden behind that long, messy hair, but his eyes are away again, it was like Wang Yao is never with him, all that’s here is only a shell. Though the tears never stops, Ivan lean in, leaving a trail of soft kisses on the edge of Yao’s jaw all the way to lips; his hands snake up and coil itself against that heaving throat. “I would never hurt you. But one day I’ll murder you.” Ivan breath out harshly, hoping that every single word he spat out would be imprinted against that wretched lips.
Yao let out a small laugh. “That’s one of the most romantic thing anybody have said to me.” He said, turning to look at Ivan, with a hint of life, for the first time.
“I love you.” Ivan whispers.
Ivan could feel Yao pulling him in, his arms is so slender, but it’s enough. “I believe you.” He heard Yao say.
The recollection hurts.
“You have the audacity and face to come here? With your fucking new family? After everything you have done? After everything?” Ivan’s fall into desolation was briefly distracted by a harsh screeching voice that echoes through the church, he look over to the other side of the space to find the women that he knows is Yao’s mother being held back by a few people, she is agitatedly screaming and kicking at another man. “You don’t fucking deserve to be here!”
“W-Who’s that?” Ivan hears a conversation going by his side. It seems that there’s no need for whispers when something loud is echoing through.
“His father.” a female voice replied.
“Oh… I thought..? He said his father died didn’t he? Wait, how did you know about it.” The man asked.
Ivan felt a squeeze in his heart. Did Yao hook up with this girl? Is that why he told her about his father, but not to him? Why? Did Yao.. like the girl more than him? Yao never once talked about his family…. Why… ?
“I saw that man once or twice outside the office building waiting for Mr. Wang. Not that it’s anything new that men and women waits for him, but… he look really upset with this particular man. Like really upset.”
The racket escalated into pushing and shoving, more family members joins in. “I am his father; I have every right to be here.”
“You’re just here thinking that maybe you could get some money out of his assets or something by acting like a weeping father at his funeral. You don’t deserve to be here.”
“You are here for the same thing as me, bitch. Don’t act like you care about our son, you’re just here for the fucking money as well.”
“What’s wrong with expecting a little money? I raised him, unlike you. You know in your heart what you did to Yao, and then you have the cheek to leave us. You left us when we needed you the most. My eyes must be blind when I married a disgusting man like you. You don’t deserve anything. You’re an eyesore to us. He must have killed himself because of you.”
“Nobody could have stand an ugly witch like you.” The father shouted back in response.
“Hah, there you go. Women’s sixth sense are usually right. I can smell a person with issues from miles away and our dear friendly Mr. Wang is one of them. Today I am proven right.” The voice beside him said smugly to her partner.
The small spat between the parents evolved into a huge mess; the solemn ceremony became a shouting war; the hurtful words and ugly accusation reverberate through the church halls in a disgusting embarrassment. The priest have to stop them, colleagues and friends have to calm the families down. It’s just unpleasant.
“I’m sorry, Yao.” he whispers under his breath.
The guilt twist and tie his stomach into knots, creating a burning sensation that made him uncomfortable. The air inside started getting oppressive, Ivan could no longer stand being in the same space as this disaster, this havoc that is constantly reminding him of his petty revenge.
“I’m really sorry. I hurt you.” he mutter under his breath. Tears formed again, hovering on the rim of his eyes. Ivan stood up and walk out of the church. He close the church’s door and lean on the wall by the side, he could still hear the muffled commotion, but the fresh cold air bring a little respite to the painful breathing.
“Need a smoke?”
Ivan turn to the other side of the door and saw a man. Dressed in a smart black suit, a head of light golden blonde, striking blue eyes behind a frameless specs. There are no consolation nor sympathy in that beautiful eyes, in fact there’s nothing at all.