Chapter Text
CHAPTER 1:
“Mnh~” Till hums when Ivan lightly bites her lip.
Ivan licks farther into her mouth in response. Till’s tongue piercing clacks against her teeth.
Ivan feels so hot she could be on fire. She consciously tries not to squeeze Till’s thin waist too tight, even though her hands are itching to lift up her shirt and dig into her skin.
Till brings her hands up to Ivan’s face. She tilts Ivan’s head and kisses her with a hunger, black nails lightly scratching Ivan’s cheeks.
Ivan is dizzy. There’s drool leaking from their open mouths onto Ivan’s chin. Till moans into her lips again.
How did this even happen? An hour ago, Till wouldn’t even sit on the couch with her. Ivan wonders what she did to deserve such a beautiful stroke of luck.
-
2 hours ago:
Ivan finally convinced Till to hang out at Ivan’s apartment. Till always turned her down, making excuses like she wouldn’t go because Ivan’s couch is uncomfortable, or because Ivan’s roommate/sister, Sua, didn’t like her. Ivan tried to tell her that it’s fine, Sua doesn’t like Ivan either, but Till wasn’t swayed.
Today though, Ivan successfully lured her with junk food and privacy. Sua said she would be out with Mizi all day, so Till had no reason to refuse.
Upon her arrival, Ivan played the good host, chatting and serving and suggesting activities. Till wanted to relax and draw, which was fine.
To Ivan’s mild disappointment, though, Till wouldn’t sit next to her on the ‘uncomfortable’ couch. Instead, she opted for the floor in front of it. Till sat with her legs crossed and set her drawing supplies on the coffee table, next to the pile of snacks Ivan bought.
This isn’t too bad, though. Ivan likes to watch her draw.
For a while, that’s all that happens. Ivan lays on the couch and plays hand held videogames, and Till sketches while playing sad rock music from her phone. Ivan is watching the back of Till’s head while she draws, now. This is fine, but Ivan wishes they were closer. Her videogame is indefinitely stuck on the restart menu in her hands. Ivan studies Till’s hair. She likes the part of Till’s hair that’s dyed with stripes, like a raccoon tail. She thinks of how she’d like to comb her fingers through that mess of silver hair, maybe pull it a little, just to see Till’s reaction. Would Till get angry? Would she moan and ask for more? She seems to like it when Ivan playfully bites her lips and neck. Ivan is dying to know. If only she could ask.
Ivan and Till are not dating.
But, they aren’t really not dating, either. Ivan’s not sure how they got to where they are. They were friends, sort of. Ivan kept running into her because she’s friends with Sua’s girlfriend, Mizi. The both of them became Mizi and Sua’s fourth wheels during parties and hangouts. At some point– Ivan thinks she was drunk the first time– they just started… fucking around with each other. Sometimes they hang out, and more often than not they are halfway down each other’s throats by the end of it. Neither of them will say anything about it, so Ivan has no idea what they are.
Ivan knows what she herself wants, though. In fact, she’s positive she’s never wanted a single thing more in her entire life.
Ivan stares holes into the back of Till’s head.
She hears Till make a frustrated sigh, then aggressively start erasing at her paper. Ivan sets her game aside. Not like she’s been paying attention to it since Till got here.
“Watcha drawing?” Ivan pipes up, leaning over Till’s shoulder.
For some reason, Till flinches and scrambles to cover the page of her book with her arms. “N-Nothing! Just uh, nothing– it's nothing!”
Ivan stares at her. She’s never reacted like that.
“What's the big deal? Is it embarrassing or something?” Ivan asks,
making a move to try and slide the sketchbook out from under Till’s folded arms.
Till yanks it back before Ivan has a chance to see. “NO– I mean, yes! It’s sooo bad. Couldn’t get it right. Don’t worry about it,” Till rushes out. She stands up suddenly, sketchbook shut and pressed to her chest. Why is she blushing?
“Man, I'm tired. No more drawing for now, haha. I'll just put this away.”
Till awkwardly shuffles to her backpack. She seems highly on edge for some reason. She left her pencils, pens and erasers at the table. Ivan stares at them.
If Till forgets something in Ivan’s apartment, she’ll have an excuse to come back.
Ivan stares at the clump of pens.
If she lost one or two, that wouldn’t be too bad, right? Ivan will give it back, anyway.
…
Ivan swipes a few gel pens from the table when Till’s back is turned and hides them under the couch. Hopefully Till won’t miss them terribly, but just enough to come back looking.
“My back hurts from sitting on the floor,” Till complains. She’s back to her normal self, it seems.
“The couch is comfier. Sit with me,” Ivan suggests, not missing a beat.
Till looks reluctant, but agrees.
“Fine.”
Till sits down next to Ivan, close. Really close.
“Take out your phone. Wanna watch your feed,” Till prompts.
“‘Kay.”
-
Present moment:
Ivan thanks whatever deity has blessed her with this situation. Just a minute ago, they were lazing on Ivan’s couch, Till watching her scroll. Suddenly, they’re kissing. And not only that, because Till has to crawl into Ivan’s lap to do so. So Till is on top of her, straddling Ivan’s waist, and letting Ivan explore every corner of her mouth with her hands on Till’s hips.
Till hums and bites at Ivan’s lips. Ivan tries her best to read her body language.
The way she’s holding Ivan’s face, the urgent way she’s kissing her, makes Ivan feel like she’s looking for more.
Ivan subtly shifts Till’s weight with her hold on her hips. She doesn’t know what she’s aiming for exactly, she just doesn’t want Till to stop.
Till responds to Ivan’s touch. Ivan thinks it's an accident the first time, but then it happens again. Till rocks her pelvis into Ivan’s clothed leg.
Holy shit.
Ivan must be dreaming. There’s no other way this is really happening to her. Ivan tries to focus. She can’t mess this up. One wrong move and Till might stop kissing her and back off.
Ivan flexes her thigh in between Till’s legs, not wanting to seem too ambitious and scare her off. Till tenses. Their lips part and Ivan hears a sound like a whimper.
Ivan’s soul leaves her body.
Till backs away from Ivan’s mouth, instead settling in the crook of her neck. She lifts her knee and repositions so Ivan’s solid muscle thigh is in between each of Till’s own scrawny legs.
Ivan holds her breath.
Till starts repeatedly shifting her hips, rubbing her cunt along Ivan’s thigh. The movements are small and shy at first, but Ivan pushes her knee up to encourage her. Till gets bolder, rolling her hips harder and finding a rhythm.
This is too good to be real. Ivan seriously has Till ( Till!!!) half in her lap, straddling Ivan’s thigh and riding it like there's no tomorrow.
Till rocks back and forth, dragging her clit across Ivan’s thigh and chasing sweet friction. She pants into Ivan’s neck, and the feeling of her warm breath gives Ivan goosebumps. Every so often Till switches to circular motions, and these beautiful sounds slip from her lips.
Ivan holds on tight to her sanity. She wants this to be good for Till, but isn’t sure what she can get away with here. She tries to shift her leg for a better angle.
“Ngh, hah– stay still, damnit– mmn,” Till commands. She sits up in Ivan’s lap and plants her hands on either side of Ivan’s waist. She balances her weight so she can hump Ivan’s leg in earnest. “Shit. Ah," she moans, looking anywhere but Ivan’s eyes.
Ivan stares directly at her, watching the way her mouth falls open and her eyebrows draw together in concentration. The metal on her brow and tongue glint in the light. Ivan looks down at Till’s jerking pelvis. Her eyes are glued to the animalistic way Till rocks back and forth, chasing pleasure.
It’s so warm where Till is on top of her that it’s impossible to tell, but Ivan can’t stop imagining a wet spot on her jeans from where Till is grinding her cunt onto Ivan’s clothed thigh.
She wants more. She wants to take Till apart. She wants to make Till feel so good she forgets about anyone else she’s ever had like this.
Ivan grasps at Till’s hips, holding so tightly she might leave a bruise. Till hasn’t complained. Ivan stiffens her leg again, grateful for the many leg days she's spent toning her muscle, and pulls Till down and up on her thigh.
“Hnngh!”
Ivan sets a pace, pushing and pulling Till in back and forth motions across her own leg. Till trembles on top of her. Moans and gasps tumble from her lips.
It's music to Ivan’s ears.
Ivan speeds up. She nudges her thigh up into Till every time she pulls Till forward by the hips.
“Fuck! Anh, Ivann,”
Ivan keeps one hand steady on Till’s hip, holding so tight her knuckles are losing color. Her other hand begins to slip up and under Till’s black ripped tank top, testing the boundaries of where Till will let Ivan touch her. Till doesn’t stop. Her lust filled expression stays the same.
Ivan slides that greedy hand up Till’s soft, warm skin. She feels Till’s side, her ribs, higher and higher.
Till isn’t wearing a bra. Ivan knew that already, though. She noticed the second she opened the door and saw Till standing there. It was the first thing Ivan registered about her outfit.
Ivan brings her hand across a soft mound on Till’s chest. Above her, Till whines. Ivan drags her thumb across a pierced nipple—
Pierced.
Till gasps. “I-Ivan!”
Ivan’s hands move automatically. Her brain shut off the second her finger brushed that barbell. She squeezes and pinches Till’s sensitive nipple, and they must be sensitive for Till to gasp that way. Till flinches and shouts, her lower body coming to a shocked halt.
“A-Aahh!”
Ivan uses her hand that’s still on Till’s hip to resume her motions, not giving Till the chance to recover.
“Fuck!” Till shouts.
Ivan rolls that stiff bud between her fingers. She pulls and flicks and prays to any god that will listen that Ivan can one day put her mouth there.
“Ivan… Ivann,” Till calls, and it sounds desperate. She’s reaching her peak, and Ivan has to maintain Till’s rhythm for her.
“Fuck– Fuck !”
Till shakes, her legs squeezing Ivan’s thigh like a vice as she erratically jerks her hips. Ivan keeps her leg stiff and pinches hard at Till’s nipple. Till’s voice gets high and whiny, pathetic little sounds coming out that match the quick succession of her movements. She cums on Ivan’s pants just like that, gasping and moaning into the air. Her whole body tightens like a string pulled taut.
She grinds pathetically on Ivan’s leg until it's over, her breath heavy and her cheeks pink.
Unfortunately, she doesn’t get a chance to relax.
Not 20 seconds after Till cums in Ivan’s lap, the front door suddenly swings open. Mizi bursts in, Sua trailing behind her.
“We’re back~ Hey Ivan, hi Till!” Mizi greets cheerfully.
Ivan spends half a second in sheer panic, then scrambles to cover them up.
Mizi walks into the living room, a cup of boba and a shopping bag in her hands. “What’re you guys– Oh, she’s asleep? Aww.”
Thank god for Ivan’s reflexes. She had pushed Till down onto her chest and swiftly covered the both of them with a blanket that was on the arm of the couch. Till has her face crushed into Ivan’s tits, facing the couch cushions. Under the blanket, her eyes are wide open and her face is beet red.
“Yeah, she was tired. You know how she never sleeps at night, haha,” Ivan acted.
“Sorryy, I’ll be quieter so she doesn’t wake up.” Mizi lowers her voice to a whisper.
Ivan smiles, but the back of her neck is sweating.
Ivan curses her parents for making her share an apartment with her older sister. Speaking of which, Sua hasn’t said a word since she walked in.
“Tired, huh?” she remarks flatly. She’s squinting at Ivan, evaluating.
Ivan gives her a forced smile in return, the kind that says to mind her own business.
“We’ll go into Sua’s room so she can sleep,” Mizi says like the angel that she is, grabbing Sua’s hand and pulling her away from the silent staring competition they were engaged in.
They both leave for Sua’s bedroom, the door shutting behind them.
Till bolts upright the second they are left alone.
“I should go,” she says.
Ivan can’t see her eyes because of her bangs. Her face still looks extremely red. Till climbs off of Ivan’s lap and gathers her belongings.
“Oh, ok,” Ivan tries to hide her disappointment. “I’ll see you later, Till.” Ivan says this hopefully, even though she’s expecting flat rejection.
Till speed walks to the exit. She hesitates at the door before responding, “...yeah, see you later.”
Something warm and tender flutters inside Ivan’s chest. She stares at the door for several seconds after Till has gone.
Eventually she looks away and lifts the blanket to stand up.
Oh.
There is a damp spot on her jeans. Not a little one, either.
Ivan is never washing these pants again.