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“Fuck you!”
Ivan ducks just in time, a quick flash of bright red from his varsity jacket comes with the movement, only narrowly missing the football that Till had thrown with all his strength, which, in the grand scheme of things, really isn’t much given his lanky arms, and most especially when compared with Ivan’s much bigger, much more muscular frame.
Still, it’s enough to loudly crash into the lockers behind his wide-eyed boyfriend before it bounces off to god knows where. It doesn’t matter because Till doesn’t care.
“Till, baby–” He has two hands reaching out to calm him down like he’s some sort of dinosaur from Jurassic Park, which only pisses Till off more. He’s on the other side of the locker room like a coward, playing it safe and basically refusing to come any closer.
“Don’t you dare ‘baby’ me, I’m going to fucking kill you.”
He finds a couple of bottles of body wash and deodorant on one of the seats, throwing them at the athlete, but the bastard keeps catching them oh so perfectly and drops them gently at his feet. At the sight, the boy with a thunderstorm over his head curses his crazy good reflexes, and Till fights the urge to roll his eyes, lest he get distracted from giving Ivan a piece of his mind. He doesn’t dare give the other boy even a second of respite. He deserves the full brunt of Till’s wrath.
“I don’t even know what I did wrong!” He whines.
Someone opens the door to the locker room, and Ivan, panicked and terrified, quickly motions his hand over his neck, his head shaking with pure fear in his eyes. The unwanted visitor, Acorn, one of Ivan’s teammates, raises an eyebrow at the raven’s odd reaction, then peers at Till, who is openly glaring at him, and he thankfully takes the hint and closes the door gently.
He throws a balled up towel next, unraveling in the air as it hits the raven, who removes it from his face before Till frustratingly runs out of disposable items near him, so instead, he grabs his phone from his pocket and throws it across the room. Ivan instinctively sidesteps it with a concerned gaze, following the object as it crashes to the wall, then to the ground.
“Was that your phone?!” His voice cracks. “Did you just throw your phone at me–”
The gray-haired boy points an accusing finger at him. “Stupid fucking jock!”
“Till, can you please tell me why you’re angry at me–” He jumps to avoid a damp towel that Till tosses over. “And we can work it out, I’m sure.” Ivan ducks again to avoid another football, but when he stands back up, he fails to dodge a dirty sock. It hits him squarely in the face, and Till smiles smugly.
“Oh man,” he peels it off his face with the sourest expression, throwing it to the side. “Was that Dewey’s? Ugh.”
The locker room is in a state of calamity at this point courtesy of yours truly, but if Till had to count how many damns he gave about it, he’d have exactly none. Ivan, like the dork he fucking is, grabs one of the helmets and puts it on, expression locking in as if he’s at a match. If he wasn’t so pissed right now, he’d normally swoon at the sight.
“We’re talking right now!” He seethes, launching a few empty water bottles first, followed by a few half-filled ones when he ran out.
“This isn’t talking,” the raven calls out, inching his way slowly towards Till’s side of the room. It’s quiet, but Till doesn’t miss the other boy laughing quietly under his breath.
The silver-haired boy fumes.
“Finding this funny, huh?” Till grits his teeth.
“When you’re mad, it’s kinda–” Ivan smiles that stupidly adorable boyish grin of his that would make anyone fall in love with him, and Till wants to scream. “It’s kind of cute. Your nose scrunches up a little, and you’re like an adorable angry kitten–”
“Ugh, IVAN–”
He launches a gym bag next to him with a huff, which, based on the weight, feels like it has a bunch of clothes in it and hopefully nothing too valuable. Either way, it’s too late because he spends no time thinking, and it doesn’t matter because the quarterback catches it expertly anyway and lays it gently on the floor. When he looks back at him, the jock is greeted by narrowed teal eyes.
“Stop being so good at catching!”
“Till, it’s kind of my thing–”
He screams.
Another object is thrown, but this time it’s a soccer ball, hurled carelessly at Ivan. It misses again.
“Sorry!” He squeaks before finally closing the distance between them, and he wraps his arm around Till, the other boy’s voice muffled as he’s pressed against the jock’s frame, and he hits his boyfriend’s chest without any real power behind it.
“Fuck you,” he says weakly, his resolve wavering.
“What did I do?” He holds him closer, one of his hands playing with his hair, and Till hates how much calmer it makes him. Hates how being so close to him fills him with the familiar scent of his body wash and the fresh cologne he sprays on after.
His voice is muffled when he speaks, and the taller boy loosens his hold, tipping Till’s chin up so he has no choice but to look at Ivan as he urges him to repeat what he said. Heat rushes to his cheeks, red staining them all too quickly, bright and embarrassed.
“You were flirting with that… girl from earlier…” he mumbles so quietly that Ivan could probably barely hear him. “She was touching you. You were letting her.”
Ivan holds his face, probably noticing how his makeup is all messed up now, smeared all over his jacket. “You know I only have feelings for you, Till.”
The boy scowls at him, bitter jealousy hidden behind the cold guise of anger.
“She was asking for my number, and I was trying to tell her that I wasn’t interested.” His thumb caresses his cheek so gently that Till feels like he’s suddenly made of glass.
His blood boils remembering the scene, the cheerleader, gorgeous and perfect – someone that everyone would think Ivan should end up with – with Ivan in a quiet corner, close to him, too close to him for a normal conversation, then she leans forward and holds Ivan’s left arm, and Till obviously had to do something, his legs moving before he could think about it. Arms with barely any strength too easily dragging Ivan to the locker rooms for privacy, the raven simply allowing it to happen.
“You look stupid still wearing that helmet.”
Ivan stops for a moment, giving it serious contemplation. “Do you promise you won’t throw anything at me anymore?”
He bites his lower lip, tempted to give him a vague answer to keep him on his toes, but Ivan seems genuine enough. That, and he’s run out of things to chuck at him. “Fine.”
He removes it and for good measure, moves everything in the vicinity that looked remotely throwable, while the shorter boy rolls his eyes.
“Why do you have to be so damn popular?” He crosses his arms, his gaze avoiding Ivan’s.
This happens nearly every single day because let’s be real here, who wouldn’t fall for Mister Perfect? Normally, he’d chalk it off to people shooting their shot without a chance, but it came to a boiling point when he saw it again today, and he just… lost it. It’s frustrating when you’re dating the one guy that everyone seems to want.
What do they all know about Ivan anyway?
They’re only seeing the parts of him that the raven is allowing them to see. They don’t know he hides behind that facade, but Till knows. Till sees through it, Till knows all of him.
To him, Ivan is the dork who could talk for hours about stars and constellations, a boy so notoriously terrible at video games with no coordination whatsoever, and it's the one of the rare things that the gray-haired boy can win against him (he still plays with Till regardless, and he claims it's simply because he likes spending time with him), he has the biggest sweet tooth known to man, and he can easily demolish any dessert quicker than you can say its name (giving him sweets makes his day better, and Till makes an effort to slip in his favorite candy every now and then). He presents himself as this cool, nonchalant guy at school, but he's nothing but a huge goof, and Till loves him for it.
“I mean, we could tell everyone that we’re dating. I’m sure that’ll throw them off.”
Till gives him a look.
It won’t throw them all off because he’s certain some of them would still have the audacity to try, but it would probably reduce the Let’s-Ask-Out-The-Most-Popular-Jock agenda. There’s only so much glaring Till can do before people suspect it’s a permanent facial feature.
“Right. Tell the whole campus that the emo outcast is dating the school's golden boy. That’ll turn out well,” he scoffs. “What will they all think?”
As if he needed to give them another reason to put a target on his back and hate him even more than they already do. As it is, they all seem so personally victimized seeing how close he is to Ivan, and that’s as his best friend. Who knows how they’ll react if they find out they’re dating too? They might just spontaneously combust at the discovery, and deep down, Till prays that they do. Fuck them all.
“Who cares what they think?” Ivan asks softly, a gentle press of his lips on the other boy’s forehead. His lips are soft and warm and so nice, and fuck. What was he angry about again? “If we tell them, we won’t need to sneak around anymore.”
Teal eyes soften like putty, and no one would be able to guess that they were as cold as daggers just a few minutes prior. It’s something that only Ivan could ever do to him, calm him down from most anything, and make him feel like he’s home. Comfortable. Safe.
Stupid fucking jock with his charms and for making Till fall in love with him.
“Up to you though, of course,” Ivan reassures him, kissing his lips this time. Slow, gentle circles are being rubbed on his back to the point that he relaxes fully. “I’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with.”
Till sighs contentedly, thinking about it for a moment. He thinks about how nice it would be to finally be themselves in front of everyone, and honestly, he’d love to see the looks on all their stupid faces knowing that they never stood a chance.
“Okay.”
Ivan’s eyes widened in surprise, not expecting his agreement. He stops his gentle ministrations, and Till tries not to whine at their loss. “Really?”
“Really.”
The raven bites his lip, barely able to contain his excitement. He’s been trying to convince Till for a while now that they should go public with their relationship, but the other boy has been hesitant. If Till had to warrant a guess, he’s sure that Ivan must be over the moon.
“How do you wanna do it?”
Till smiles mischievously. “I can think of a few things.”
Flash forward to a week later, when the whole crowd roars with cheers, everyone watching as Anakt High demolishes yet another season, finishing at the top of the ladder for another year in a row. Spirits are at an all time high, and the audience is going wild. Cheerleaders finish up their victory dance sequence as the football team celebrates with each other in a mess of hugs, high-fives, and cheers.
From the bleachers, Till runs over to Ivan, the star of the show, the raven with a knowing smirk as he realizes what he’s doing and that they’re finally doing this. He removes his helmet and throws it somewhere on the ground, Till doesn’t really bother checking where it goes.
He catches Till and effortlessly lifts him, the smaller boy wrapping his arm around the quarterback’s neck as the raven twirls him around with the momentum. They look into each other’s eyes, bright and brimming with adoration, quiet chuckles filling the air drowned out by everyone else’s excitement, but this is the only thing that matters.
A smile tugs the corner of the raven’s mouth as he closes the gap between them, the soft press of the other boy’s lips on his giving him everything and anything he could possibly need. Till doesn’t think he can ever get enough of Ivan’s kisses, and he’d happily test the theory to prove it right.
The crowd erupts into hushed whispers, some of them immediately on their phones and probably texting all their friends and classmates, some taking photos, all wide eyes and mouths hanging impossibly wide.
But really, Till doesn’t care about anything else but the boy in front of him, Ivan looking at him as if his boyfriend is his whole world. That smile, that snaggletoothed grin, doing all sorts of things to him, just like it did when they quite literally bumped into each other on Till’s first day. A rocky start, but the humble beginnings of a love that rivals the movies.
“Think they got the message?” Till says, breathless, his heart so warm, so full of love. Ivan lets him down, but he gets on his tiptoes to stay close to the other boy.
Ivan’s eyes light up, a teasing smile as he inches forward. “I think we should do that again, you know, just in case.”
He smiles against his lips. “You just want to kiss me again.”
“Guilty as charged.” Ivan chuckles as he kisses him again, this time even deeper. One of his hands rests at the small of Till’s back, pulling him impossibly close, and in response, Till desperately tries to hide the red tinge painting his cheeks as he’s certain everyone else continues to stare.
It’s safe to say that no one has tried to ask Ivan out after that, but at the small cost of Till’s sanity.