Archive of Our Own

PE has always been one of Till’s most hated subjects. 

Actually, ‘hated’ is an understatement. He absolutely loathes it, he completely despises it, detests it with his whole being. Whenever he has to attend the class, he already feels like throwing up – after all, it’s just another place for bulked up dudes and egotistical jocks to show off, to flex on scrawny twigs like Till!

Till, himself, had no place there. Whenever he could, he’d always call in sick for it. However, he could only call in sick for too long – the teachers would get suspicious. And, really, Till’s sure they already are. 

Thankfully, in their current school year, PE class has actually been… pretty okay. It was nothing like what it used to be like last year– God, that was horrible. Till doesn’t even want to think about it. Just recalling back to those times makes him feel the bile crawling up his throat, just like old times. It was torture, really. Incredibly harmful to the physical health of teenagers, actually. 

Back then, they used to do fucking thirty laps around the whole gym– no breaks. Again, no breaks! No. Fucking. Breaks! What, did they think Till was a robot or something? Even just three laps in a row already left him heaving for air! How was he ever going to survive thirty? 

Not only that, but they used to make them do those– those fuck-ass jump squats. Across the whole fucking gym and back, too! And, guess what? They had to do those for twenty laps. Twenty fucking laps. Do you know how difficult that is?! Do you know how impossible  that is for a man like Till…?? Do you???? 

Thankfully, though, the coach that made them do all those quit the damn job right after that school year. And, when Till found out, he actually let out tears of joy – he weeped right in front of Ivan when the teachers announced the coach’s resignation. He jumped with fucking joy, ignoring the painful throbbing pain in his calves because– because he was finally free!

No more jump squats, no more thirty fuck-ass laps around the gym, no more push-ups, no more sit-ups… No, no more! Only freedom!

So, when he comes into school that day he really, really, swear-to-god does not expect to see a familiar fucking face greet them during PE class. Instead of the nice lady that used to supervise them just days ago, now– now, there was this man, this absolute beast of a man. 

A man with a buzz cut, with muscles of that of a greek god, wearing a skin-tight white shirt that does not hide the man’s toned abs in the slightest, greets them. “Good morning, class!” he exclaims, face full of joy – as if he doesn’t even see the absolute dread apparent on Till’s features. “It’s so nice to see you again! You know the drill, right?” He gives them all that damn smirk. Till already knows what’s going to happen. He’s going to be sick.

“Drop and give me twenty.”

He’s actually going to throw up.

–

“Till, are you okay?” Ivan asks, but he knows the other man is not okay. It’s so obvious, actually. But, of course, he has manners – so, he still asks.

Till turns to look at him slowly. So slow, in fact, that it almost looks scary – a smooth, precise motion that shows the exact emotions on Till’s face, depression and dread. Ivan has to physically bite back the laugh he wants to let out right in Till’s face. 

Ivan knows how much Till hates this class. He really does. Till rants about it so, so often and Ivan always listens. So, trust him, he knows. But… still…

He can’t help it, really– but he loves watching Till during PE. It’s funny, it’s hilarious, it’s insane, it makes him think depraved thoughts. If only Till knew the ideas going through his head whenever Ivan would watch him heave and gasp over his water bottle, well… let’s just say, it wouldn’t end well. 

At best, Till would be disgusted in him – he often is, already, though. And, at worst, Till would kick Ivan in the balls. But, really . Come on, now. Ivan would enjoy that too. So, who’s really losing here?

Another thing is; Ivan is, kind of, okay with PE class. He’s one of their football team’s top players, after all – so, if there’s anyone that should be able to keep up with PE class, it’s going to be Ivan. So, he has absolutely no trouble in dealing with whatever it was their coach wanted them to do. 

But, TIll, on the other hand? God, that man is a mess. And Ivan wants him – needs him viscerally, carnally, biblically. 

So, really, he can’t help but watch Till sometimes… or, well, always. He always watches Till. This is Ivan we’re talking about, what are you expecting? 

“No, Ivan. I am not fucking okay ,” Till replies, huffing a sigh out. He looks sick, so pale that it appears that he’s about to pass out. And, Ivan guesses, that probably wouldn’t be too far off from the truth, knowing TIll. 

“You’ll be fine,” he grins at Till – sharp tooth poking out and eyelids somewhat half-lidded. Till frowns at him much harder then, it’s enough to make Ivan chuckle. 

“Be so fucking for real right now, Ivan,” Till deadpans at him. “I won’t be able to survive this shit– I’m not built like a fucking beast like you.” 

“Is that supposed to be a compliment?” he teases, a small lilt in his voice. Till punches his shoulder hard . It doesn’t hurt one bit. The smile on Ivan's face doesn’t deter, doesn’t falter. Instead, it only grows wider. “That’s sweet, really. But we have push-ups to do, remember?” Ivan looks over at their other classmates, only going down onto the floor with a chorus of groans and complaints. 

Till watches, and Ivan relishes in the way the silver-haired man bites his bottom lip as he imagines the amount of pain he’ll be in later. Ivan has to physically restrain himself by turning his hands into fists, nails digging into his palm as Till continues to stare at the others, his tongue coming out to wet his lips as he prepares to drop to the floor and force his arms to push his whole body’s weight up and down continuously – and for twenty reps, mind you. 

“ Fuck,” is all Till says before he’s on the floor, palms pressing against the cold, squeaky, shiny hardwood flooring of the gym. 

Ivan admires the view before doing the same. 

–

By the fifth rep, Till is already wheezing, already gasping for air. 

Meanwhile, Ivan is breezing through it. By the time Till is on his sixth push-up, Ivan is already done. But, just to make Till feel better about it, just to make sure Till doesn’t feel embarrassed, Ivan continues. And he plans on continuing these push-ups until Till is done. Which is, really, a miscalculation on his part.

It’s, honest-to-god, probably going to take him a whole thirty minutes – and that’s being generous. By the time Till’s done, Ivan’s going to be fucking toned.

Fuck Ivan, though, in particular because he’s already toned. Although he’s not as muscular as the other athletes in their school, it’s undeniable that the man does have muscles. It’s just fucking unfair if he were to get any stronger.

“H– hah…” Ivan hears Till gasp out beside him. When Ivan looks at him, he notices the other man’s arms are shaking. With every dip and rise he does, his arms shake even more violently. His face is dripping with sweat as well, falling from his forehead, to his cheek, to his chin, then to the floor beneath him.

And fuck.

Ivan begins to feel his snaggletooth digging hard into his bottom lip, almost drawing blood – because he really needs to control himself. He wants to lick Till, to drink up all the sweat from him and make it all his. He swears, he’s this close to licking at the droplets of Till’s sweat on the dirty gym floor and–

He gulps hard. He forces his mind to think of something else, but it all comes back to Till. To Till, who’s gasping and groaning with every push-up he does. To Till, whose mouth is agape as he breathes through it heavily. To Till, who's making Ivan think of all these awful things and he isn’t even trying. 

“F– fuck, fuck,” Till’s eyes close tight, head hanging as he does one last push-up. Then, he’s rolling on the floor, onto his back. He’s heaving heavily, audibly with a, “Hah… ugh. Mmh, hah…” And it drives Ivan fucking insane. 

“Done already?” he asks, trying to distract his mind from the thoughts in his head – but he knows he can’t get rid of it, he never can. 

But, instead of a proper response, Till says– “Ivan,” like he’s begging for him, like Ivan has just what he needs. It sends a small shudder down his spine, and he’s biting back a sound of something. “Ivan… Ivan– can I– I forgot my water in the classroom… Can– can I–”

He doesn’t even need to finish his words because Ivan already knows what he’s going to say. “ Yes,” is his immediate reply. “Yes, of course.” And, just like that, he’s up from the ground and rushing off to the side of the court. He scrambles to grab his water bottle, while making sure not to knock any other water bottles down in the process. When it’s in his hands, he runs back to Till like a puppy playing fetch. 

The moment Till gets his hands on the bottle, he twists the cap open and pours the liquid right into his mouth. His head is all tilted up, his neck glistening with sweat, and Ivan just wants to grab it, to bite it and–

His thoughts come to a halt when he realizes there’s water leaking out of the corner of Till’s mouth, even beginning to trail  down Till’s neck and onto the collar of his shirt. It’s like he’s so desperate for this, to the point that he doesn’t even care if he makes a mess anymore.

And, god, did that do things to Ivan. 

Once again, Ivan’s sharp snaggletooth is digging into his bottom lip. And, this time, he swears he's going to draw blood. 

When Till pulls away from the water bottle, lips parting from the bottle’s mouth, he does a little sigh of relief. It’s almost innocent. But Ivan doesn’t ignore, he can’t ignore, the small line of saliva that connects Till’s beautiful lips to his water bottle. 

It’s fucking crazy. Ivan is going to cherish this water bottle forever.

Till hands him his bottle back and Ivan is just stunned for a second. He stares down at the flask blankly, unsure of what to feel. Or, in other words– to be horny, or not to be horny; that is the question. 

When he comes to it, he is so damn quick to put the bottle up to his lips. He chugs all the remaining water down, his tongue even coming out to lap quickly at the bottle’s mouth to get a taste of what Till left there. 

It may be a little deranged, sure. It’s desperate, yes. But it’s Ivan , so he doesn’t care. 

“Ah…” Till breathes, eyes shut tight as he tries to compose himself. “Thank you– I’ll refill your bottle later. Just remind me–”

“It’s fine,” Ivan blurts out before Till’s even done speaking. “It’s– it’s fine, you don’t have to .” There’s a small crazed grin on his face. “You’re free to borrow my water bottle any time. I mean it. No paybacks needed.” Please, keep using my water bottle. Please, I want to taste you when you drink from it, please– he wants to say, but he zips his mouth closed before he could say something he was going to regret.

At that, Till raises a curious eyebrow. He’s suspicious, untrusting. “I… hah, I don’t trust you. I– I mean, this is oddly nice– there must be some kind of loophole in this. I just know it.”

“I’m just being a good friend. Is that so hard to believe?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely,” Till sneers at him. “I don’t trust you one bit.”

“Your loss,” and Ivan’s as well, but he doesn’t say that. 

Ivan sees the way Till opens his mouth to bark out another retort, but they’re interrupted by the sharp noise of a whistle ringing in the air, piercing their eardrums. Till winces, Ivan stays composed. 

“Okay, class! Time for stretches. Jumping jacks, forward lunges, squats– you know the drill. Hop to it!” Their coach blows on his whistle once more, and everyone’s rising from the ground. 

Ivan gets up quickly and he half-expects Till to do the same. But, when his eyes drop to the ground, he sees Till. Till, who’s struggling to stand up, somehow. Ivan wants to laugh at the man, really, he does. 

But when he sees the small, desperate look Till gives him when he cranes his head up to look at the jock– Ivan’s laugh dies in his throat and, instead, an honest-to-god whine wants to come out. The silver-haired man looks so helpless under him. 

Ivan can’t help but wonder what Till would look like if he had his hands on Ivan and–

Ahem. Okay. What the fuck.

“Help me– fucker, come on,” Till huffs out, his hand coming up to reach for Ivan. 

Ivan snaps out of it, but he feels incredibly flustered. He holds his hand out for Till and, he really didn’t expect it but– Till presses his palm against the other man’s. They’re hand-in-hand for a moment as Till pulls himself up, using Ivan as an anchor. 

It sends sparks within Ivan’s whole being. It’s a little childish, and he knows that. But, god, he can’t help it. 

Till’s hand lingers on his for a second – the sweat on his palm transferring onto Ivan’s, the heat of it spreading through the black-haired man completely. When Till finally pulls away, he acts like nothing just happened. 

And, really, nothing did. But Ivan was a little overreacting fucker. 

“Hurry up, class! We don’t have much time! Come on, give me twenty jumping jacks!”

Beside him, Till lets out a scoff. “Don’t you think he’s doing this wrong? We should be stretching first, for god’s sake.” And, yeah, Ivan agrees. At this rate, they’re all going to end up sore and cramping by the end of the day. Wholly unprofessional, Ivan thinks.

But, then again, it did service his thoughts… 

He can already imagine it– Till writhing and heaving as he tried to run laps across the gym. Till, looking so helpless, asking for Ivan’s help just to be able to walk through the school hallways. Till, dripping with sweat, pulling his shirt off, body glistening, shining with sweat as Ivan just watches and–

Fuck. He is not going to have a boner in the middle of PE class. He’s not. 

“Ivan? Dude, you okay?” Till pokes his shoulder, completely oblivious to the current, deranged, depraved, filthy state of Ivan’s mind.

“ Yeah,” Ivan breathes out. “I’m great. I’m amazing– peachy, actually.” Till doesn’t seem to believe it one bit. But he doesn’t say anything. Ivan doesn’t, either. 

But the sheer look of restraint is so apparent on his face. And, if Till notices, he doesn’t say anything – he never does.

–

By the time their ‘warm-ups’ are done, Till is already pooling with sweat. 

He’s genuinely wheezing on the ground, trying to catch his breath before he passes out. But, before he can, the coach already orders them to run twenty laps across the gym. 

So, of course, they run. 

For Ivan, it’s a breeze. He’s used to having to run across large distances, especially since he is part of the football team. But, for Till, it’s like torture. It’s like Hell, actually – Hell on Earth, genuinely.

Because his body is burning. The sweat on his face feels so cold, but his body is burning so hot that it feels so weird, almost unbearable. His legs are throbbing, too – they’re screaming at him to stop, please, no more. 

But he can’t stop. Their coach is genuinely shouting at them to keep going– saying that he’ll deduct points on their grades if they stopped even one bit. Isn’t this, like, abuse of authority or something? Till wants to give the stronger man a big, fat middle finger but he’s really not in the mood to be in detention after school – especially not after having a PE class like this.

If anything, he wants to go home immediately. To savor the feeling of cool air hitting his skin in the airconditioned sanctuary that was his room, to rest his muscles after the cruel workout they were forced into.

However, unfortunately, he’s not there right now. Right now– he’s in this god-forsaken PE class, running arduous laps across this fuck-ass gym, forcing his poor legs to keep up and push through the pain they’re in. 

Meanwhile, Ivan is just breezing through it like the fucking jerk he is!

With every lap, Ivan is constantly just ahead of him. But, even so, Till can tell he’s not putting his all in it – he knows how fast this man can go. He’s watched their football games before, he knows the extent of Ivan’s speed and strength. So, it’s painfully obvious to see how much he’s holding back right now. 

But why, you may ask?

Well, it’s fucking obvious. He’s making fun of Till – of course, he is! He’s probably laughing internally, teasing Till, showing him how much better he is than the silver-haired man because that’s just how Ivan is! 

He’s purposefully slowing down just so that he can watch the pathetic look on Till’s face as he tries to catch up to him. And, frankly, fuck him for that. 

But. Actually. Well. 

That really isn’t the reason why Ivan’s running slower. Seriously, it isn’t. Well, maybe, at first, it was because he wanted to tease Till. But, now, it was different. 

Because, right now, Till is actually heaving, gasping, huffing, wheezing, panting, begging–

And it’s driving Ivan more and more insane by the second. Even more so since he’s actually, quite genuinely pleading. 

“ Hah– mmh… fuck–” He hears Till practically moan beside him as he’s trailing behind him, trying to keep up with the black-haired man with all his might, hoping to not be left behind and be laughed at by their other classmates. “Ah– Ivan, slow down–!”

Ivan almost trips when he hears that.

Staggering, with a foot stepping forward to catch himself, Ivan’s head swivels around to face Till. But, when he comes to it, Till is already running past him, huffing and gasping for air in a manner that drove Ivan fucking crazy. 

He’s quick to catch up, though. He runs just enough for him to be side-by-side with Till. Ivan can’t take his eyes off the other man, it’s like his gaze is glued to him. It might as well be, too. 

“F– fffuck… ” Till rasps out, his voice cracking with the word. It’s enough to make Ivan’s knees feel weak. Then, suddenly, out of nowhere, Till sprints – like actually sprints to the end of the court. 

He probably thinks it's going to help him finish these laps faster, but, really– it’s just going to make his body hurt more, in the end. 

Ivan doesn’t speed up to catch up to him, though. He knows better, so he keeps his pace. 

The next time he gets to Till’s side, the silver-haired man is already on the verge of fainting. “ Ivan,” he hears him whine. And Ivan is seriously losing his mind, at this point. “Can– mngh, ah– can we… hah– please. Can we rest…? Please?” 

He is genuinely going to pop a boner.

Till is begging, such a pretty thing, he is– but Ivan can’t do that. So, instead, he says, “Just a few more, Till. You can do it. ” He tries to sound as suave as he could, to sound as unbothered as he could be. But his voice only comes out rushed and strained.

“I– I can’t,” Till gasps out, his mouth hanging agape even after speaking as he huffs heavily for air. And Ivan wants to tell him to breathe through his nose because it’ll be better, easier but– 

Ivan sees the way Till’s tongue is nearly poking out of his mouth, almost as if it’s teasing him, somehow. He sees how pathetic the other man looks, mouth open and eyes hazy. His face and shirt is stained with sweat, dripping down and down, and Ivan can’t help but just look. 

He is not going to have a boner right now– he’s not. 

He repeats it in his mind, like a mantra. Because he’s so, so close at getting a tent in his pants that it’s crazy. But he can’t have that– not now. 

“Last lap!” their coach shouts, and Till is sure he’s hearing a heavenly chorus in the background. 

“Last one,” Ivan says, voice low but enough for Till to hear. 

“ Last one,” Till repeats. Being filled with renewed vigor, Till clenches his teeth and runs, just fucking runs the last lap like his life depends on it. Amused, Ivan decides to follow him, letting out a low whistle as he does.

Honestly, even though Till couldn’t always keep up with all the workout, one thing he’s great at is running – he can be crazy fast when he wants to be. It’s impressive, actually.

When they’re at the end, Till immediately falls to the ground to sit down. His legs are shaking, head hung down, and eyes shut tightly. Sweat continues to drench his features, and you can’t really blame Ivan if he finds it hot– because it is. 

“I’m– I think I’m going to throw up–” Till mutters, feeling something ready to crawl up his throat. “I– Ivan…” 

He was doing that thing again– calling out Ivan’s name like that. Did he even know what he was doing? Did he have any idea how he affected Ivan, how much he drives him insane?

Nonetheless, he responds to Till like an obedient puppy. “Yes, Till?”

“I feel sick…” the silver-haired man groans, his head still hanging down. And only then does Ivan realize what’s wrong. Immediately, he switches into professional mode and rushes over to Till’s side.

“Well, of course– that’s because you’re looking down,” he says. He puts his hands on Till’s shoulders, trying to pull him up. “It makes the blood rush to your head, so keep your head up. And, also– your legs are going to hurt more if you sit down now.”

“But–” Till looks at him feebly, letting his body be lifted by strong arms. “I’m so tired… Ivan… ”

“And whose fault do you think that is?”

Till frowns at him. “Fuck you.” Gladly, Ivan wants to say. But, again, he keeps it to himself. 

When Till’s head drops down again as he breathes heavily, Ivan is quick to tut him. He grabs Till’s jaw in his hand and brings it up to face him. When they meet eyes, Ivan knows his pupils are dilating.

Till looks at him with half-lidded eyes, mouth still slack, eyebrows furrowed up slightly – and he looks so submissive. It leads his mind to think of so many things, of creative scenarios where Till is shirtless and he’s looking at him like that while–

Wait, what. What. Who said that.

What the fuck.

Ivan has to bite the inside of his cheek hard to kill the rising moan in his throat. 

Till doesn’t even try to slip out of his grasp or anything. He just lets Ivan hold him like that. And what the fuck. 

“Ivan…” He’s seriously going crazy. His face feels so hot, was it always this hot in here? What the hell. “Ivan .” He’s losing his mind. His breathing is getting shallow, isn’t it? He can feel it, yeah– “ Ivan? I– Ivan… your hand– ‘s too warm…” Till whines. 

Ivan pulls away, as if he just touched a burning stove. He lets go of Till entirely, but he can still feel the sweat and warmth of Till’s face – like it’s trying to imprint itself on Ivan’s fingers, on his palm, everywhere. 

“Sorry,” he rushes out, surprising himself. His eyes are wide as the word escapes his mouth. Till looks shocked, too, because Ivan doesn’t say sorry. Ivan is a fucking jerk that only cares about himself, in Till’s eyes – he doesn’t say sorry. 

Before Ivan can say anything else, he’s interrupted by another whistle. 

“Good job, class! This time–” there’s an evil grin on their coach’s face. Till already knows what’s coming. “This time, we’re doing jump squats. Across the gym. Ten laps, let’s go! Double time!”

Till whines, Ivan can only watch as he does.

–

“W– wait–” Till gasps. “ Ivan– wait, please… wait for me– ah–” He grunts as he forces himself to take another jump. His thighs and calves hurt like hell right now, but he can’t stop– not now. Unless he wanted to be left behind, he had to force himself through this. 

If he was a mess earlier, he is so much more of a mess right now. 

Hair stuck to his forehead, wet and sticky. His shirt clung to his figure as well, sweat evident and staining the piece of clothing. And, most importantly, he’s gotten much louder. Whining and groaning– he doesn’t care what sound he makes anymore. He is in pain, can you really blame him?

On the other hand, Ivan is fighting something else entirely. Instead of fighting with his sore muscles, he’s fighting with the thoughts in his head – the ones that ran rampant with imaginative scenarios where Till is on his knees and Ivan is–

Okay. Ahem. 

Look… look, can you blame him? Till is literally moaning and begging nearby him, and you expect him to not be horny? He has self-control, yes, but he’s not a saint. 

“Till–” he gasps out. Ivan stops for a second, turning to look at his friend, who’s still behind him. He’s doing his best to do another jump squat, but he winces with every jump he does. He’s not the only one, though – it seems as though their other classmates are having a hard time with this exercise too.

“I– I can’t–” Till groans. “I– ngh… ah– I can’t do it! Ivan!” he nearly wails. His legs are aching, throbbing, trembling ; he can’t take it anymore. He can’t.

“Keep those feet together! And make sure to squat! There’s no point in doing this if you guys don’t do it how it’s supposed to be done!” the coach shouts, pointing at random students that aren’t following his instructions. 

Till has to, physically, bite back a thick ‘fuck you’ at that, sneering and all. Meanwhile, what Ivan has to swallow down is a ‘please, let me fuck you’ as he stares at Till’s disheveled state.

For a few seconds, Ivan is just staring at nothing – distracted. But, when he sees that Till’s already passed him, he finally snaps back to reality. And, then, he hurries to keep up with the silver-haired boy. 

He can’t ignore the grunts and groans Till does beside him, however. How can he? 

–

The minutes blend together like incredibly wet watercolor on a piece of short bond paper – absolutely nonsensical and messy. 

By the time they’re on their last lap, Till swears there are already tears pouring from his eyes. But you won’t even be able to tell because of the sheer amount of sweat on his face – if he was crying, no one would be able to tell.

And, by then, Ivan had begun to be coated with sweat too. From his pristine, perfect appearance, Ivan was now a mess; although, not as much of a mess as Till already is. Instead, Ivan’s perfectly combed hair seems as though it's been ruffled, stray strands standing up and some sticking to his forehead with sweat. His shirt, too, has been affected by sweat as it clings to his chest, hugging it tightly. 

When Till looks at him, Ivan isn’t sure what goes through the man’s mind – but he sees the way those teal eyes flutter to look at him up and down. Almost as if he was checking Ivan out. That’s probably not the case, but Ivan can hope – he’s only a man, after all. 

A horny man, yes , but still a man, nonetheless.

“Okay, class, huddle up!” the coach blows on his whistle once more, eliciting a chorus of groans from the students once more. Till really, really does not want to stand so closely to these sweaty teenagers. The smell is radioactive, Till already knows it.

But, despite that, Till still follows their teacher’s instructions, with Ivan standing by closely – incredibly close, actually. 

“All of that was just a warm-up, okay? Just a preparation before we get to the serious stuff–” Okay, what? You mean that wasn’t ‘serious stuff’ already? What the fuck? “So, I hope you guys learned a thing or two–” they did not, “–because, next week, it’s going to be even more intense. But, for now, that’s all!”

Everyone in the gym cheers immediately. There are whistling and ‘whoop’ s all around, and Till swears he feels a shackle attached to him be broken. It’s like tasting freedom all over again.

“Yeah, yeah,” the coach chuckles. “Now, go, shoo! PE is over!”

All the students begin to rush out of the gymnasium, pushing one another through the doors just to be able to get out. After some nudging and shoving, Ivan and Till finally make their way out of there. 

When they’re finally in the hallway, in the midst of the ocean of sweaty students, Till eventually finds his back to be pressing flush against Ivan’s chest due to the sheer amount of people around them. That, and… well, Till’s legs hurt too much for him to be able to stand alone. So, using Ivan as an anchor once more, he leans against him for support.

Instead of pulling away, Till only lets himself lean further.

“H– hey, ah… Ivan?” Till calls out to him, twisting his body enough so that he could tug on the taller man’s sweat-soaked shirt. Subconsciously, Ivan leans down. Right then, Till’s mouth is right beside Ivan’s ear; whenever he speaks, it’s so loud – so audible that it makes Ivan shake. 

“Y… yeah?” Ivan asks dumbly, eyes wide and mind so fuzzy with tiredness that he can’t even fully process the situation before him.

“Do you– hah,” his breath tickles the shell of Ivan’s ear, and Ivan has to physically stop his eyes from rolling back. “Do you have a shirt I– I can, um, borrow?” And Ivan’s answer to that is– yes. Of fucking course . 

Because, of course, he did; it’s Ivan, after all. Whenever they used to have PE class, even during middle school, Ivan always brought an extra shirt or two just for Till , regardless of whether or not Till would even ask him to do so. He just always had one just in case. 

That, and, well–

It’s a little perverted, maybe. But Ivan always just enjoys seeing Till wear his clothes. There was just… something so intimate about it that made him a little, tiny bit possessive. And also maybe a tiny, teeny-weeny bit feral.

“It’s just… I– I forgot to bring one today… I know, stupid Till, yeah, but–”

“Yes.”

“ …Whuh – what?”

“I mean–” Ivan scrambles to clear his throat. “What I meant was– yes. I have an extra shirt for you, yes.” 

“G– good… good , that’s good.” Till lets go of his shirt then. “Thanks, man. You’re a lifesaver.“

“It’s so odd seeing you be so thankful, Till. It’s almost scary.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Till sneers at him, pushing himself off the man before rushing off to his locker with an annoyed look on his face. And Ivan, of course, follows him like the desperate puppy he is.

“Mm, it’s not very wise to talk to me like that, Till,” he coos. “I have your extra shirt, after all– I have all the power to take it back, you know. Just like that–” 

“ Shut the fuck up,” the shorter man nearly growls. “Just go get that shirt and let’s get this over with. I feel disgusting.” He looks down to his drenched shirt. 

“Of course,” Ivan grins, eyes turning into crescents.

–

When they get to the bathroom, it’s already fucking packed with sweaty teenagers and it stank like hell. 

Ivan’s nose stings just by taking one whiff of it, meanwhile, Till is already beginning to cover his mouth and nose with his hand. 

Although, he’s still huffing for air. Ivan notices the way his legs are still shaking slightly, even as he stands still by his side. Sweat stuck to his forehead, his hair, and his clothes. Damp and extremely wet, Ivan can’t quite tear his eyes away from the sweat staining Till’s shirt. 

Gulping, Ivan forces his eyes away.

“It stinks in here, dude,” Till whispers to him. Ivan chuckles with a nod. 

“Do you wanna go elsewhere? I’m sure there are other less crowded bathrooms here–”

“Nah, it’s fine. Besides, look–” Till tugs his shirt, pointing off to the stall at the very end. There’s a person coming out of it, he realizes. And, before he knows it, his arm’s being pulled in the middle of the noisy, crowded males’ bathroom, dragging him to the stall that was just pointed out to him. “Let’s– let’s just share this one, it’ll be faster.”

As he’s being dragged, Ivan’s brain short-circuits. 

“ What?” he asks but, when it’s out of his mouth, Till is already pushing him into the stall, closing the stall door shut with a loud click of the lock. “Wait– Till, are you sure?” 

The aforementioned man looks at him incredulously. “We’re… we’re just changing clothes. ‘S nothing serious, man.” But there’s a soft flush to his face, his face reddening more than it already is. 

“If you say so…” Ivan mutters, pressing his back against the cold bathroom wall. He doesn’t dare to get any closer to Till, for several reasons – one main reason being that he’s worried that Till is uncomfortable with this. And he doesn’t want that– he doesn’t want Till to feel that.

But, somehow– Till, himself, misses the memo because he’s already starting to take off his shirt, and oh, god–

Oh, god. He is taking off his shirt. 

Ivan is actually going to cum. He’s going to combust right there, right now. 

Till doesn’t meet his eyes, but he’s already taking off his shirt. Slowly, the piece of clothing rises and rises – showing more and more of supple skin that Ivan wants to dig his teeth into. It’s like he’s teasing Ivan with how slow he’s going, like it’s almost intentional. But Ivan knows better, he knows better– 

“Ah–” Till squeaks out. “Shit, do… do you have an extra towel or anything? I– sorry, I keep forgetting to bring my stuff today… ugh .” He frowns deep before meeting Ivan’s eyes. 

Ivan, on the other hand, feels his dick growing harder by the second. The eye contact they make only makes it worse. 

“Or, actually– wait. It’s fine, sorry.” Till’s shirt is fully off now. Right in front of him, the man’s skin is exposed – sweaty, shiny, and smooth. Ivan’s hands twitch. He wants to touch him so bad. 

He almost whimpers at the sight. He feels so fucking pathetic. It feels so good.

He can only watch as Till uses his wet shirt as a makeshift towel, wiping his neck, chest, and face right in front of the black-haired man. It’s like his own private show; Ivan feels honored. And horny. So, so horny that he feels that space in his pants getting tighter.

Is he hard? Maybe. Is it obvious? He hopes not. 

“ Shit,” he mutters under his breath, and Till gives him a curious side-glance. 

To distract himself from the growing hardness in his shorts, Ivan decides to take his shirt off then as well. It’s a horrible idea, actually, now that he thinks about it. But it’s too late, because he’s already pulling his shirt off with impressive speed. 

 When he hears a quiet, “ …Fuck,” somewhere at his side, he gives it no mind. He doesn’t dare look at Till, either. Because he’s scared – scared that, maybe, Till finally noticed the possible tent in his shorts. It’s embarrassing. He wants to die. He wants Till so bad, it’s almost embarrassing.

Quickly, he grabs his other shirt, his extra one – dry, clean, and sweat-free. Immediately, he pulls it over his head and chest. He doesn’t even bother to wipe his sweat off before wearing it, he’s much too embarrassed to do that. All that he knows right now is that he needs to get out of this damn stall and just–

“Ivan.”

He swears his knees buckle. 

Is he shaking? Fuck, he’s probably shaking. His back is pressed so hard against the wall that he feels like he’s becoming one with it. His eyes don’t dare meet Till’s, either.

There’s some shuffling, then Till speaks again. “Ivan, look at me.” He doesn’t, though. He can’t– he just can’t. “Seriously– Ivan.” 

But, suddenly, there’s a finger hooking under his chin. His gaze rises and black and red eyes meet teal. He doesn’t mean to, but his eyes flicker down to Till’s chest – and only then does he realize that TIll’s finished changing shirts.

Since it’s Ivan’s shirt he’s wearing, it’s a little looser than the ones he has. The collar is low, enough to show his collarbones; and the shirt is bigger on him, seeming almost oversized – and, really, it is. Just looking at him, something feral begins to gnaw at Ivan.

But, when his gaze fixes itself back on Till’s face, he notices how red his face is. “Ivan, what the hell is wrong with you?” There it is. There’s the disgust Ivan was expecting. 

“I’m– I’m sorry, Till. Really, I just–”

“There’s no need to be so shy, you know.” 

“ I’m so sorry, Till. I’m– wait , what? ”

Those teal eyes are hazy, filled with something Ivan can’t quite decipher. His eyes are half-lidded, and his face is burning as he looks at Ivan. “You’re a fucking idiot, really…” he sounds exasperated. “You’re so obvious. Do you even have any idea?”

“I– I have no idea what you’re talking about–”

“Don’t play dumb,” Till tilts Ivan’s chin up higher. “You’re so obvious. Especially during PE, earlier. Seriously…” 

“I… I don’t…”

“Why didn’t I realize sooner?” Till reprimands himself. “I’m an idiot. Ugh…” 

“Till, what are you talking about?” 

“ Ivan ,” Till says. Ivan shuts his mouth and stares at him expectantly. What he says next, though, is not a part of Ivan’s expectations. “Can I touch you?” 

“You already are.”

“Not– not like that. I– I mean,” Till furrows his eyebrows, frustration gracing his features. “Ugh, fuck. Nevermind– maybe, I’m taking this all the wrong way. Shit, sorry. Forget about it–”

“No, no–” Ivan grabs Till’s hand before it could pull away from him. “What is it? I– tell me. Tell me, Till.”

Till is embarrassed now, Ivan can see that. His face is scrunched up, incredibly red and unwilling to meet Ivan’s eyes. It’s almost as if they switched roles. 

“Nothing– nothing. Forget about it. I’m just assuming–” Till’s eyes flicker down to Ivan’s shorts. And– oh.

Oh.

“Till,” he gasps out then. “Till.” He says his name like a prayer, his eyes wide with surprise as he realizes just what Till meant. “Till… I–”

“I’m sorry, Ivan. I’m a fucking weirdo– we… we probably shouldn’t be friends anymore. I’m so fucking weird–”

“Don’t say that,” Ivan says, his grip on Till’s wrist tightening. “I’ll be angry if you keep saying that.” 

Till scoffs at him. “Aren’t you already angry at me? I mean, here I am– assuming you actually wanted to– to… to– um.”

“To what, Till?” Ivan tilts his head to the side slightly. He looks at Till with narrow eyes as a small grin begins to grow on his face at the shyness Till is showing him.

“ You – you already know, fucker.”

“I don’t think I do. Tell me, Till.”

“Fuck you,” Till snarls. “ Fuck you.”

“There you go,” Ivan coos. “That wasn’t too hard, was it?”

“Wait–” Till’s eyes widen. “That– that wasn’t what I meant–”

“So, you don’t want to fuck me?”

“I–” Till stammers, his face becoming even more red. “You just love to see me struggle that much, do you?” 

“Mmh,” Ivan hums low. “It’s one of my hobbies.”

“Fuck you,” Till says again. “ Fuck you, seriously.”

“Okay,” Ivan replies with a cocky grin on his face. “Go ahead– fuck me.” 

Something snaps in Till’s brain then. And, the next moment, he’s pulling free from Ivan’s grasp. Then, he’s grabbing the collar of Ivan’s shirt, pulling him close until their faces are mere centimeters apart.

Till breathes through his mouth, the heat of it brushing against Ivan’s face. Ivan does the same at the closeness.

“You sure you want this?” Till asks him, genuine.

“More than anything in the world,” Ivan almost sounds like he’s pleading. And who is Till to deny him?

Immediately, their lips are pressed together. Till’s eyes flutter shut as Ivan tilts his head to the side to get a better angle, to kiss Till deeper. They both let out soft gasps every time their lips part and meet again in an attempt to kiss the other more, harder . 

Eventually, Till finds his hands falling from the collar of Ivan’s shirt to the man’s hips. Meanwhile, Ivan’s hands made their way to Till’s hair, tugging at the silver strands all the while trying to pull him closer. 

With his back against the wall, Ivan feels trapped. But, since Till is the one squaring him in, he doesn’t mind one bit. If anything, he finds it pretty hot. 

When Till begins to lick at his bottom lip, Ivan lets out a silent whine – which is enough leverage for Till to enter the man’s mouth. Like a starved man, Till licks and laps at the inside of Ivan’s mouth like it’s a full course meal. Every corner and crevice, Till makes sure to give it all the attention it so badly wants – all the attention Ivan wants.

Ivan’s tongue weakly tries to fight back Till’s, but it’s a war he loses gladly. He lets Till control him completely, to have absolute power over him. It’s so hot, it makes him almost dizzy. 

But, then, the hands on his hips pull him in closer. And, just like that, their hips are pressed together – so close, flush against each other that Ivan can feel it. He can feel how hard Till is too, he can feel how much he needs this as well. It’s enough to make him moan low. 

He doesn’t even need to move, because Till is already grinding against him – fabric on fabric, but it feels so good. Those hands move from his hips to his ass, squeezing him hard and pulling him even closer. 

“Ah– ah, fuck–” Ivan moans quietly as to not draw any attention to them. Because, again, there’s people outside. Despite that, however, Till only continues to rub against him shamelessly. 

“ Ivan,” Till whispers right into his ear. “Come on, baby– come on… ” Ivan’s hands clutch at silver hair tighter, harder. His eyes are beginning to roll back in bliss. Every time Till moves against him, his ability to hold back his moans gets weaker and weaker. He is so close to just letting it all out.

“Need you…” Ivan whispers back, diving in for another kiss. Till kisses him back immediately. Just like earlier, their tongues are dancing together – swapping spit and saliva in the process. Ivan begins to rock back and forth on Till then, and Till graces him with a soft, quiet groan, right in his ear. 

“You have me,” Till says back as quietly as he could. 

He’s so hard, it hurts. It physically hurts. He needs this so badly– he’s been needing this for so long. 

He can tell Till feels the same way too, if his kissing and grinding was anything to go off of – he’s desperate and Ivan can feel it, he can feel it. 

“‘M gonna– ‘m gonna, ah– Ivan–” 

“No–” Ivan pulls away from him then. “No, wait–”

Without hesitation, Till gives Ivan the space he needs. And, on his face, instead of the look of complete love and lust he had just a second ago, there is worry. “Sorry– did I– did I go too far?” he says, voice a little raspy. “Fuck, sorry. Are you okay?”

“No– it’s not that,” Ivan reassures him. For some reason, he’s feeling extra confident today, so he says– “I just– I was just thinking… I think it’d be better if you– if you came by… you know.”

There’s a confused, curious look on Till’s face. “What…? What do you mean?”

“I want to blow you.” 

Till’s eyes widen, but he doesn’t hesitate. Breathless, he responds, “Okay. Okay– fuck, Ivan. Are you sure?”

“Mmh– yeah,” Ivan kisses him one more time before falling to his knees.

“Careful–”

“I’m fine,” Ivan, whose voice is dripping with sweetness and lust, breathes out. “I just– I need this… I’ve been needing this– needing you. ”

“You’re a fucking freak–” Till gasps out as Ivan hooks his hands over the band of his shorts. At his words, Ivan can only whimper. Till raises an eyebrow before grinning. “You like that? Being called a freak?” Ivan doesn’t need to say anything because Till already knows.

“Only for you,” Ivan whispers right on his hard-on, on the obvious tent in his shorts. “Can I? Can I, please?”

“Sh– shit, yeah. Of course, baby,” Till says as he buries his hand in Ivan’s hair. Immediately, Ivan pulls the silver-haired man’s shorts down. His eyes go wide as Till’s cock springs free right in front of him – so hard, and leaking already.

Ivan looks up, trying to meet those teal eyes – but Till is covering his face with his forearm, head against the stall’s wall, and mouth slightly agape as he heaves for air. His thighs are shaking a little as well. 

Suddenly, the hardness in his own shorts is aching even more than before.

He feels his mouth start to water at the mere sight of Till’s dick before him. He’s a bit unsure as to how to do this, it’s his first time, after all– but he’s going to find a way. 

Hesitantly, he holds Till in his hands, stroking him slowly as he presses a tentative kiss to the tip.

“ Ah–” Till gasps, hips bucking up into the air, in Ivan’s hands. “ Sh–shit…”

“Mm,” Ivan hums before he licks a long stripe on the underside of Till’s cock. Then, his lips part, mouth hanging open as he leaned in closer to take Till in his mouth, tip first. It’s a weird feeling, but Ivan doesn’t mind it. His tongue swirls along the length’s tip, licking at it like candy, the taste of precum settling onto his tastebuds. 

Till can’t help it when his hips buck up again, going in a little deeper in Ivan’s mouth. “Sorry– mh– sorry… I can’t…” he whispers, hands tightening on Ivan’s hair, making the taller man moan quietly. “I can’t help it– sorry–”

“Go ahead,” Ivan pops off Till’s cock just to say. “I don’t mind.” Then, just like that, he’s back to it. 

Using one hand to stroke the man’s dick and the other one on his hips, holding him still, Ivan lets more of the length enter his mouth. It’s heavy, it makes him feel so full. There’s probably drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, but he doesn’t care. 

In one swift motion, he takes it all into his mouth, all at once. Surprised, Till lets out a high whine, hips bucking once more, deeper into Ivan. Till is so deep in him that it reaches his throat. He’s so close to gagging, but he curls a hand into a fist and squeezes his thumb – then, the feeling is gone.

He hums around the man’s length, low and long. And Till begins to pull at Ivan’s beautifully-kept hair. His eyes are closed, mouth open in a silent moan and breaths as Ivan begins to bob up and down his wet, leaking cock.

“So good– haah… hnng… you’re so good, Ivan…” Till babbles quietly, beginning to thrust into the man’s mouth shallowly. “So good for me– fuck.” His legs are trembling – a mixed reaction from their PE earlier and the way Ivan’s sucking his dick now. He feels so weak, but it feels like bliss. 

As Till’s cock fills his mouth repeatedly, there are times where his sharp little snaggletooth grazes the skin on it – and it brings Till so much pleasure, despite the genuine risk of a sharp tooth digging into his dick. But he doesn’t care because at this point, Ivan is taking him in his throat.

With his hand on either side of Ivan’s head, clutching and pulling at his hair, Till can’t help but thrust into the man’s mouth. It’s a subconscious thing, really – he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it until he opens his eyes and sees the way Ivan’s meeting Till’s thrusts with an equally needy bob of his head down onto his cock. 

With every thrust, Ivan tries his best to swallow around Till’s dick, but it comes out as a wet sound that sounds absolutely filthy. Ivan loves it, he’s sure Till does too. 

“Fuck– ah… ngh, I’m close, Ivan–” Till has to bite on his own hand to stop his noises from spilling, teeth digging deep into his knuckles that’s sure to leave a mark. Ivan lets Till fuck his mouth with deep, hard thrusts – like he’s just a toy for Till to use. In an instant, the precum in his mouth gets thicker and he’s finally getting used to the salty taste of it. 

Ivan, feeling the rush Till is in with each following thrust into his throat, scrambles to palm his own erection through his shorts. He’s rubbing against his own hand frantically, needy as he chases his own orgasm. 

“Fuck– fuck, fuck, fuck.” Till heaves, voice cracking in a whisper. “Ivan– I’m– ‘M cumming… ah– ah, hah– fuck, Ivan!” He keens, eyes shutting tightly, his jaw slack, pulling Ivan’s hair up, hips bucking up hard in one last thrust as he feels himself coming undone. 

Right down Ivan’s throat, Till’s cum bursts in ropes. Ivan does his best to swallow every single drop with every spurt his cock does, but he can’t help it when some of it drips out of his mouth, down his chin and onto his shirt. It’s so hot, so warm – Ivan thinks he could drink this every day and never get tired. 

After Till’s orgasm, Ivan follows suit. And Till is petting his hair through it. 

His eyes roll back as bliss showers his whole being. His eyes roll back as he spasms, wetness filling his shorts with every twitch and spurt of his cock. His mouth is still full of dick, even through his orgasm – but he pulls away the moment he’s done cumming, leaning back on his heels as he heaves for air through his open mouth.

There’s cum dripping out of the corner of his mouth, mixed with drool and saliva. He looks so fucked out, so blissed out, and it’s so hot that it almost gets Till hard again.

But, pushing his horniness aside, Till is quick to tuck his dick back in his shorts. He leans over to give Ivan a hand, to help him up from the ground – but he winces when the pain in his legs scream at him, throbbing and aching like crazy. Ivan notices this, too, when he pulls himself up with Till’s help. 

Once Ivan is face-to-face with him, Till’s balance shifts onto one foot, hoping to ease the pain his legs are in. They’re shaking and Till can feel it, he’s sure Ivan can see it as well. 

Then, all of a sudden, his weight shifts onto nothing. He would’ve been on the floor by now, on his knees if it weren’t for Ivan’s strong arms grabbing him, keeping him upright. But, even then, Till’s knees wobble.

“Are you okay?” Ivan asks him, voice raspy and hoarse – but, really, Till should be the one asking him that. That, and also Ivan sounds really hot like this, especially since Till knows it’s his fault why Ivan’s a mess like this. Fuck, he’s going to get hard again if this keeps up.

“ Fucker, ” Till gasps out, grabbing onto Ivan’s arm, breath hitting the other man’s bare neck. It sends a full-fucking-body shudder through Ivan and Till can only watch as Ivan shivers. “ You’re– you’re actually insane.”

“Mmm,” Ivan hums, nodding. “I want to do that again. Can we do that again?”

Till stares at him incredulously, like he can’t believe him. He almost laughs at the other man, but he holds it back when he sees the hazy look on Ivan’s face. “Are– are you serious? Not now, obviously!”

“Next time, then? Please, Till?”

“Ugh– fine, fine. Next time.”

“Promise?” he asks Till, leaning down for a kiss.

“Yeah– I promise.” he says, indulging Ivan as their lips meet for a quick kiss. When Ivan darts his tongue out to lick at Till’s bottom lip, Till can taste his own cum on Ivan’s mouth. He pulls away immediately and frowns. “Also, you swallowed all that– it’s disgusting, you know!”

“It’s not,” Ivan says bluntly. “If it’s from Till, it’s never disgusting.”

“You’re a freak…”

Ivan laughs, his voice cracking and raspy. “Only for you, Till,” he coos as he wraps his arms around Till’s neck, nuzzling his jaw with his nose. Till, to the best of his abilities, tries to push Ivan away.

“Ivan– don’t put your face there! I still smell like ass– eugh, Ivan!” 

“No, you don’t. So good– you smell so good.”

“Ivan!”

–

When they go home, Till decides to follow Ivan home. Not in a creepy way, just in a way when two bros would after one bro gives the other bro the best blowjob of his life then proceeds to spend the night with each other in the richer bro’s bedroom. 

Except, they have no idea if they’re both exactly still ‘bros’ or not. Probably not, actually. 

But, nonetheless, they do spend the night together. Specifically, while cuddling. It’s sweet, it’s loving, it’s good – 

It’s much better than what comes in the morning. Which is, you guessed it, abhorrent pain throughout Till’s whole body – and only Till because, unlike a certain black-haired man, Till isn’t used to working out or general exercise. 

So, when he’s limping and groaning in the morning, can you really blame him?

Ivan certainly doesn’t. If anything, actually, he seems rather amused by it.

“I– I can’t–” Till heaves, knees buckling as he tries to stop the pain in his calves by leaning down to touch them. “Fuck, that hurts…”

“Are you okay?” Ivan asks, standing at Till’s side.

Till looks up to face him with small tears in his eyes, eyebrows curving upwards, and mouth twisting into a frown as pain spreads throughout his legs. “ Ivan,” He practically whines– whines, holy shit. “It hurts– help me walk, c– c’mon.”

Ivan isn’t one to hesitate, so he quickly offers his arm for Till to grab ahold of. But, instead of doing that, Till wraps an arm around Ivan’s broad shoulders before standing straighter. His head leaned slightly towards Ivan’s own as he let out a breathy whine. 

“Hurts– it really hurts, fuck.”

“You know that’s your fault. After all, you don’t exercise, then you go on and do that during PE yesterday? What do you expect?” Ivan grins at him, teasing. 

“I just did the same thing everyone else did!”

“Maybe,” Ivan says, “But, just like I said– you’re not used to exercise. You push yourself that hard, you’re only bound to get this sore.”

“Fuck you. Seriously– fuck you.” 

Ivan raises an eyebrow at him, a cheeky smile spreading slowly on his face. “ Oh? Are you sure you want to do this again, Till?”

“ God, you’re a real freak, aren’t you?” Till huffs. “Let a man give you a blowjob and he can’t stop thinking about sex,” he mutters low under his breath. But Ivan hears, of course, he does.

“You say that as if you didn’t like it– you loved it, Till.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Till sneers. “Keep saying shit like that and I’ll never let you touch my dick ever again.”

Immediately, Ivan deflates with a frown. “Hey, now– there’s no need to go that far. It’s just a joke, Till. No need to get so serious–” 

Till laughs, his arms tightening around Ivan’s shoulders as he shakes with laughter. “You’re a fucking idiot.”

“Maybe,” Ivan smiles. “But you love me.”

“Yeah, I do. And I fucking hate it,” Till grins, a stray chuckle escaping his lips. 

“I love you too,” Ivan rubs his head against Till’s, black hair against silver.

As they continue to walk through the school’s hallway, Till calls out to the other man. “Hey, Ivan. Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Of course. Anything for Till.”

“Then– skip PE with me next week?”

Ivan looks at him, amused and a little surprised. “I don’t think I can do that. I love watching you try to keep up with the exercises too much,” he smirks.

“I’ll give you a special treat if you do.”

“Oh? And that is…?”

Till absolutely hates PE class with a burning passion– but, he would be lying if he isn’t at least a little bit thankful for where it got him now. 

Till gives him a look – confident and a little cocky. He grins. “Come and find out.” 

Ivan already knows what he’s implying. “How tempting.”