[The ease with which Ivan pulls him atop his body is a testament to his new strength. Till doesn't fight it at all, and simply adjusts so that he's straddling him properly. His heart beats so fast and strongly that he can feel it in his throat. The heat in his cheeks rises further as Ivan's fingers trail across his skin, leaving fire in their wake.
This time, it is Till's turn to use his thumb and tenderly wipe at the tears that form at the corners of Ivan's lashes. He never cries, unlike Till. Through the tether, he can feel the happiness and warmth that spur them on, though. He isn't sad.
Ivan is crying from happiness.
Iridiscent, Till's eyes shine as he studies the familiar crimson gaze that stares back at him.
. . . They're so beautiful. They remind him of the fiery sky they both ran into one night so long ago now. For so many years, he felt guilt when he looked into his gaze, and rue blooms in his heart even now when the darkness of various memories rears its head. But more than the sorrow that grew, hope and the desperate desire to keep him near now trumps it.
Paradise. To think someone could use such a beautiful term for him. Cupping Ivan cheeks, Till leans forward with a watery smile, and rests his forehead to his. For now, he switches back to the tether. His throat feels a little raw, and he thinks he can cover the emotion in his voice a little better this way.
He's wrong.]
How can I define you with just a word?
[Because there isn't any one single word that does him justice. Ivan can be quirky and strange and hard to understand. And he's also his savior- the one who rescued him, multiple times. He's the one who occupies his thoughts endlessly and burrows deep inside his heart. He's the reason he continues to breathe- doesn't that make him his air and oxygen?
But he deserves something- because Ivan is so incredibly important to him. He closses his eyes.]
You're everything that is essential to life.
[How can he possibly narrow it down? Till was so lost when he thought Ivan was gone forever, that he had needed to conjure him up inside his mind just to cope.
The smile that returns is soft.]
But, I guess there is something I've always associated you with.
[The image of stars shooting across the sky enters his mind's eye through the tether- a beautiful, dazzling scene.]
You're my Star.
[ . . . He doesn't want him to think of that as some small, little thing. Eyes opening again, he meets his gaze.]
You've always been there, like a star, you know... shining softly and consistently. I heard that humans used to use the stars as a guidepost. They could find their way by finding a particular star in the sky. They'd never be lost, as long as they could find that star.
[Like a roadmap that would never fail them.]
That's what you are like to me. You're my light. Up close, a star's powerful and life-giving and full of warmth; from a distance, it offers security and comfort. You're... all of that to me, though.
[A presence that looms larger than life within his mind's eye while also being soft and steady.]
Life can't exist at all without its very own star.
[ . . .]
I... might be the one to glow like a stupid lightbulb. Literally. But that's... it's because my light is born from you.
If you weren't here, I wouldn't be able to see at all. I'd be a black hole all over again.
[ They are musicians. They know the agony of searching for the perfect words. They've both put hours into choosing them. It's not random at all. Ivans knows this inherently, but he can also clearly see the thought crease Till's face, so close to his own. Crisp, the course of his mind as it draws a straight line to something beautiful and so beyond anything he ever imagined Till might say about him that he simply can't breathe afterward. Then Till decides he hasn't even finished with his task. "You're everything that is essential to life" isn't his final answer, just a stop along the way.
Ivan's chest has stilled entirely. His hands have ceased their caress, too stunned to move. No iota of him can focus on anything but the anticipation. When he finally hears it, his whole body shakes violently. Tears are still in his surprised eyes, and he's shaking, shaking, shaking...
Before erupting into joyous laughter. ]
I'm your Star, you say?
[ Producing a shockingly bright baritone, his chest continues to heave, not hindered by Till's weight atop it whatsoever. The other boy can be bounced off the bed by his sudden fit, he doesn't care ( ...except he very much does secure him with a tight hug around his waist... ) He's never felt so happy. Not even in dreams, not during that perfect, hypnotic trance beneath the banquet was his happiness this pure, this outrageous. And never did he ever expect it to strike him like a seismic event. ]
Yes—then that's what I'll be! You truly have a creative mind to think of me in such a way, but I'll try my best to grant your every wish. Whatever it is, I'll be here to answer it. [ Ivan regains enough control over himself to adoringly pet Till's temple. Right there, behind his parietal bone, he now resides always. This tether that is theirs makes it possible. ] With you, whether I can be seen... or not.
[ Stars are born in the void. Out of cold, black nothingness, they begin.
It surprisingly fits. ]
May I suggest something now, Till?
[ His restraint has seemingly returned in a snap. The evidence of his outburst is far from gone, however. Flushed in his face, Ivan lies there, attempting to look easygoing while the most momentous excitement prickles under his skin. He leaves a stretch of quiet so the air can clear before what he has to say next. ]
As your guiding Star, here is where I think you should go next.
[For a heartbeat, Till wonders if he’s said something wrong. Ivan shakes so fiercely that Till might have bounced right off if not for Ivan’s arms holding him close. Inexplicably, Ivan bursts into laughter a moment later, and Till’s head reels as he tries to keep pace with the rapid shifts in emotion.
The Tether is a godsend. Ivan’s elated; Till releases a relieved breath. Everything feels unreal. Never in a million years did he believe he could be this happy. Sure, there's fear—a fear of losing what he never dreamed he'd have. Till can't imagine losing this happiness now. But the warmth in his chest softens his expression.
. . . Until his guardian star's guidance.]
. . .
[Rolling his eyes, Till simply smirks. Sure, a bit of heat dusts his cheeks, but his skin is already flushed with the warmth they share.
This sounds exactly like something Ivan would have said in the past. The difference is that now, Till knows he isn’t the butt of a joke. Ivan is still devious, though.
He leans close enough that he can feel Ivan's breath against his lips.]
What? Here?
[A finger brushes against Ivan's mouth and Till tilts his head to the side playfully as though thinking.]
[ Red eyes study Till's expression for any sign of insincerity. It's so far from the one he gave him the first time he ever asked about the strange trend sweeping the garden — "Touching lips." He remembers how his entire face twisted to show how he felt about the idea. His lips had peeled all the way back from his teeth. He'd stuck his tongue out, too. None of that had exactly stopped Ivan from thinking he'd still like to go through with putting his mouth on that stupid face anyway, but then Till gave him an interesting answer.
"I'll consider it for your birthday."
The gifts that the other children received never made Ivan jealous that they had birthdays while he did not, as Unsha gave him the things he asked for all the time. But what Till said that day. That had. ]
It might be. [ Breathily ] I don't know when I was born.
[ The passage of Till's fingers brings his mouth agape, making his top teeth peek out. He doesn't fix it back into any neat line. Now is not the time to shut things away to seem unmoved. Their tether aside, after coming all this way Till should see once and for all how he really makes him feel. ]
To have any chance of celebrating it, we'll have to treat every day like my birthday.
[ He can say any sly thing, but the truth is he wants what Till promised back then. For it not to be a joke. For it, too, to be his choice and not something Ivan thrusts upon him, or the hypnotism of a god that wishes for them to worship it with their skin and sweat. ]
[Ivan was born on the streets, and as far as Till can tell, lost his provider at a tender age. It is no wonder that the exact date of his birthday is a mystery. Till, on the other hand, was born into a Mill, where everyone was documented and tagged, so his birthdate followed forward with him through his life.
Amusement continues to light Till's eyes. Ivan jokingly suggests they ought to celebrate every day. If he's honest, Till has thought about 'touching lips' more than once since their time beneath the banquet hall. Those memories burn warmly in his heart, though uncertainty lingers—he hopes Ivan didn't feel pressured to 'help' that night.
Tracing Ivan's lips, Till studies them in the dim light, then lifts his gaze to Ivan's eyes. The intensity there is familiar—no one knows that look better than he does. For a moment, he feels almost seen through, and he doesn't mind. Not if it's Ivan. The tether already connects them.
Slowly, his fingers slide into Ivan’s hair as he cups his cheek, drawing nearer.]
Is that so?
[Nervous anticipation lights his eye, and there is a beat of charged silence. Smiling against him, Till brushes his lips breathlessly over Ivan’s.]
Well—
[His words are whisper soft into his mouth and he hums.]
If every day's your birthday, guess we'd better start celebrating.
[ Till's movements apply addictive pressure. He thought he might not be able to resist helping himself to more right away, but it turns out that he likes things moving this slowly. Nothing is happening so fast that he can't savor it. Waiting is second nature to him now, besides. He's patient. Ivan's lips suckle on Till's lightly, catch-and-release, obeying whatever pace he sets. A shallow flick of tongue pulls back so quickly it seems truly accidental.
He's still a little worried about what he might taste like. He's still conscious of the venomous black mouthparts that frame his face, holding them far out to the sides so that Till can pass between them smoothly, without touching. They shake imperceptibly from the strain of overextension.
How interested Till is in him like this... Ivan will leave that up to Till to show him. ]
Are you committed to that? It's not polite to tease me, Till.
[ His own taunt rings out sweetly across their tether, so as not to disturb anything in the process of happening in the physical world. ]
[Till is a lot of things, but once he truly commits to something, he gives it his whole mind, his whole body, and every last stray thought. Nothing sways him once he’s set on a course.
Including this—getting to know the strange landscape of Ivan’s new body.
Beneath the banquet hall where they’d lost themselves to flesh and pleasure, Ivan had been soft and warm. This body isn’t cold, but it doesn’t radiate heat in the same way, and it isn’t entirely soft. By now, though, it’s familiar territory. Maybe not explored in every detail, not yet, but they sleep pressed together almost every night. Ivan is no stranger in his arms.
Even so, Till has never really let himself map out all the intricacies of him. Some of it is shyness, maybe. Some of it is that Ivan has never seemed entirely at ease in his own shell.
But maybe, if Till is honest and open with his desire, Ivan won’t be so nervous anymore.
The flick of his star’s tongue inside his mouth is new, and it sends a bright thrill through him. He realizes how far he’s come since that time he’d flushed scarlet at the mere idea of touching lips.
Now, he wants so much more.]
Hey.
[His hand slips down over the armor of Ivan’s chest, tracing the hard lines before gliding lightly to his abdomen, where the narrow red slit that runs the length of his body begins. He glances back up, catching Ivan’s eyes.]
How does your body work…? Does it… feel good, when my hands touch you like this?
[ The point of armor is that it keeps one from feeling physically exposed. Till's downwards maneuver melts through it right away. Ivan cranes his head to watch his progress, something that right here and right now reminds him that's he's very naked, technically, as he has been since turning. If he still had pores, there would be goosebumps trailing just behind the tips of those luminous fingers.
What will feel good to an insectoid body is just as much of a mystery to the one currently inhabiting one. He's fed it, cleaned it, tended to wounds, only the things necessary to survive; he certainly hasn't tried to pleasure himself like this. The thought makes him swallow a lump of embarrassment, and he tells the undomesticated, underdeveloped part of his brain not to get ahead of itself no matter what his friend's intentions look like they might be.
As is, his nerves send tingling feedback to his spinal cord. And to their tether, proving that he can be teased in this way. It intensifies when Till focuses on his abdomen, a place all wild things naturally want to keep safe from predators, all senses around it heightened. ]
I can feel how soft they are compared to me, and warm — I like it a lot.
[ There is one thing his is aware of from grooming in the area, which for him is an in depth process involving his saliva, mouth, and mandibles. ]
Where my segments come together, the grooves there are quite sensitive. That one especially.
[ Ivan's eyes are glued to that red line dividing up his lower belly, and the proximity of Till's hands to it. ]
[The shiver of pleasure that courses through their converged tether tells Till exactly what he needs to know. The sensation of his own hands on Ivan's body feels good and even welcomed. The awareness that he can do this, that he can draw such a response with nothing but touch, sparks a little thrill in him. His slender fingers alone wield this much power over Ivan’s body. Ivan may tower over him, his strength far beyond Till’s, but a simple, careful caress is all it takes to unravel him.
A mischievous grin unfurls across his face.]
Is that so...?
[He lets his fingers wander, feather-light, until they find that little groove. With a slow, deliberate motion, he strokes along the slim red line.
Ivan is self‑conscious about his body. He’s never said as much aloud, but Till can feel it in the marrow of their tether, clear as day. Maybe, if he can show Ivan that he isn’t repulsed or disgusted by this new form, Ivan will be able to accept himself—if only a little. Of course Till wants him back as he was. That isn’t because he hates what Ivan has become; it’s because he hates that someone else carved this change into him without consent.
That's hardly his only reason for wanting to explore him right now, though.
The truth is, Till can’t help the heat curling low in his own body in answer to the rising, anticipatory pulse in Ivan. Maybe he wants to see him come undone. Maybe he wants to taste again the edge of the ecstasy they shared that night, when flesh met flesh and they both went senseless with pleasure. Ivan was the one who bared that intimate memory of thinking of Till alone in a bathroom stall while he touched himself. Those desires haven’t gone anywhere. Right...?
He studies Ivan’s face intently, hungry for every flicker of reaction.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
This time, it is Till's turn to use his thumb and tenderly wipe at the tears that form at the corners of Ivan's lashes. He never cries, unlike Till. Through the tether, he can feel the happiness and warmth that spur them on, though. He isn't sad.
Ivan is crying from happiness.
Iridiscent, Till's eyes shine as he studies the familiar crimson gaze that stares back at him.
. . . They're so beautiful. They remind him of the fiery sky they both ran into one night so long ago now. For so many years, he felt guilt when he looked into his gaze, and rue blooms in his heart even now when the darkness of various memories rears its head. But more than the sorrow that grew, hope and the desperate desire to keep him near now trumps it.
Paradise. To think someone could use such a beautiful term for him. Cupping Ivan cheeks, Till leans forward with a watery smile, and rests his forehead to his. For now, he switches back to the tether. His throat feels a little raw, and he thinks he can cover the emotion in his voice a little better this way.
He's wrong.]
How can I define you with just a word?
[Because there isn't any one single word that does him justice. Ivan can be quirky and strange and hard to understand. And he's also his savior- the one who rescued him, multiple times. He's the one who occupies his thoughts endlessly and burrows deep inside his heart. He's the reason he continues to breathe- doesn't that make him his air and oxygen?
But he deserves something- because Ivan is so incredibly important to him. He closses his eyes.]
You're everything that is essential to life.
[How can he possibly narrow it down? Till was so lost when he thought Ivan was gone forever, that he had needed to conjure him up inside his mind just to cope.
The smile that returns is soft.]
But, I guess there is something I've always associated you with.
[The image of stars shooting across the sky enters his mind's eye through the tether- a beautiful, dazzling scene.]
You're my Star.
[ . . . He doesn't want him to think of that as some small, little thing. Eyes opening again, he meets his gaze.]
You've always been there, like a star, you know... shining softly and consistently. I heard that humans used to use the stars as a guidepost. They could find their way by finding a particular star in the sky. They'd never be lost, as long as they could find that star.
[Like a roadmap that would never fail them.]
That's what you are like to me. You're my light. Up close, a star's powerful and life-giving and full of warmth; from a distance, it offers security and comfort. You're... all of that to me, though.
[A presence that looms larger than life within his mind's eye while also being soft and steady.]
Life can't exist at all without its very own star.
[ . . .]
I... might be the one to glow like a stupid lightbulb. Literally. But that's... it's because my light is born from you.
If you weren't here, I wouldn't be able to see at all. I'd be a black hole all over again.
no subject
Ivan's chest has stilled entirely. His hands have ceased their caress, too stunned to move. No iota of him can focus on anything but the anticipation. When he finally hears it, his whole body shakes violently. Tears are still in his surprised eyes, and he's shaking, shaking, shaking...
Before erupting into joyous laughter. ]
I'm your Star, you say?
[ Producing a shockingly bright baritone, his chest continues to heave, not hindered by Till's weight atop it whatsoever. The other boy can be bounced off the bed by his sudden fit, he doesn't care ( ...except he very much does secure him with a tight hug around his waist... ) He's never felt so happy. Not even in dreams, not during that perfect, hypnotic trance beneath the banquet was his happiness this pure, this outrageous. And never did he ever expect it to strike him like a seismic event. ]
Yes—then that's what I'll be! You truly have a creative mind to think of me in such a way, but I'll try my best to grant your every wish. Whatever it is, I'll be here to answer it. [ Ivan regains enough control over himself to adoringly pet Till's temple. Right there, behind his parietal bone, he now resides always. This tether that is theirs makes it possible. ] With you, whether I can be seen... or not.
[ Stars are born in the void. Out of cold, black nothingness, they begin.
It surprisingly fits. ]
May I suggest something now, Till?
[ His restraint has seemingly returned in a snap. The evidence of his outburst is far from gone, however. Flushed in his face, Ivan lies there, attempting to look easygoing while the most momentous excitement prickles under his skin. He leaves a stretch of quiet so the air can clear before what he has to say next. ]
As your guiding Star, here is where I think you should go next.
[ ...
...
...
He points to his mouth. ]
no subject
The Tether is a godsend. Ivan’s elated; Till releases a relieved breath. Everything feels unreal. Never in a million years did he believe he could be this happy. Sure, there's fear—a fear of losing what he never dreamed he'd have. Till can't imagine losing this happiness now. But the warmth in his chest softens his expression.
. . . Until his guardian star's guidance.]
. . .
[Rolling his eyes, Till simply smirks. Sure, a bit of heat dusts his cheeks, but his skin is already flushed with the warmth they share.
This sounds exactly like something Ivan would have said in the past. The difference is that now, Till knows he isn’t the butt of a joke. Ivan is still devious, though.
He leans close enough that he can feel Ivan's breath against his lips.]
What? Here?
[A finger brushes against Ivan's mouth and Till tilts his head to the side playfully as though thinking.]
Is it your birthday?
no subject
"I'll consider it for your birthday."
The gifts that the other children received never made Ivan jealous that they had birthdays while he did not, as Unsha gave him the things he asked for all the time. But what Till said that day. That had. ]
It might be. [ Breathily ] I don't know when I was born.
[ The passage of Till's fingers brings his mouth agape, making his top teeth peek out. He doesn't fix it back into any neat line. Now is not the time to shut things away to seem unmoved. Their tether aside, after coming all this way Till should see once and for all how he really makes him feel. ]
To have any chance of celebrating it, we'll have to treat every day like my birthday.
[ He can say any sly thing, but the truth is he wants what Till promised back then. For it not to be a joke. For it, too, to be his choice and not something Ivan thrusts upon him, or the hypnotism of a god that wishes for them to worship it with their skin and sweat. ]
no subject
Amusement continues to light Till's eyes. Ivan jokingly suggests they ought to celebrate every day. If he's honest, Till has thought about 'touching lips' more than once since their time beneath the banquet hall. Those memories burn warmly in his heart, though uncertainty lingers—he hopes Ivan didn't feel pressured to 'help' that night.
Tracing Ivan's lips, Till studies them in the dim light, then lifts his gaze to Ivan's eyes. The intensity there is familiar—no one knows that look better than he does. For a moment, he feels almost seen through, and he doesn't mind. Not if it's Ivan. The tether already connects them.
Slowly, his fingers slide into Ivan’s hair as he cups his cheek, drawing nearer.]
Is that so?
[Nervous anticipation lights his eye, and there is a beat of charged silence. Smiling against him, Till brushes his lips breathlessly over Ivan’s.]
Well—
[His words are whisper soft into his mouth and he hums.]
If every day's your birthday, guess we'd better start celebrating.
no subject
He's still a little worried about what he might taste like. He's still conscious of the venomous black mouthparts that frame his face, holding them far out to the sides so that Till can pass between them smoothly, without touching. They shake imperceptibly from the strain of overextension.
How interested Till is in him like this... Ivan will leave that up to Till to show him. ]
Are you committed to that? It's not polite to tease me, Till.
[ His own taunt rings out sweetly across their tether, so as not to disturb anything in the process of happening in the physical world. ]
no subject
[Till is a lot of things, but once he truly commits to something, he gives it his whole mind, his whole body, and every last stray thought. Nothing sways him once he’s set on a course.
Including this—getting to know the strange landscape of Ivan’s new body.
Beneath the banquet hall where they’d lost themselves to flesh and pleasure, Ivan had been soft and warm. This body isn’t cold, but it doesn’t radiate heat in the same way, and it isn’t entirely soft. By now, though, it’s familiar territory. Maybe not explored in every detail, not yet, but they sleep pressed together almost every night. Ivan is no stranger in his arms.
Even so, Till has never really let himself map out all the intricacies of him. Some of it is shyness, maybe. Some of it is that Ivan has never seemed entirely at ease in his own shell.
But maybe, if Till is honest and open with his desire, Ivan won’t be so nervous anymore.
The flick of his star’s tongue inside his mouth is new, and it sends a bright thrill through him. He realizes how far he’s come since that time he’d flushed scarlet at the mere idea of touching lips.
Now, he wants so much more.]
Hey.
[His hand slips down over the armor of Ivan’s chest, tracing the hard lines before gliding lightly to his abdomen, where the narrow red slit that runs the length of his body begins. He glances back up, catching Ivan’s eyes.]
How does your body work…? Does it… feel good, when my hands touch you like this?
no subject
What will feel good to an insectoid body is just as much of a mystery to the one currently inhabiting one. He's fed it, cleaned it, tended to wounds, only the things necessary to survive; he certainly hasn't tried to pleasure himself like this. The thought makes him swallow a lump of embarrassment, and he tells the undomesticated, underdeveloped part of his brain not to get ahead of itself no matter what his friend's intentions look like they might be.
As is, his nerves send tingling feedback to his spinal cord. And to their tether, proving that he can be teased in this way. It intensifies when Till focuses on his abdomen, a place all wild things naturally want to keep safe from predators, all senses around it heightened. ]
I can feel how soft they are compared to me, and warm — I like it a lot.
[ There is one thing his is aware of from grooming in the area, which for him is an in depth process involving his saliva, mouth, and mandibles. ]
Where my segments come together, the grooves there are quite sensitive. That one especially.
[ Ivan's eyes are glued to that red line dividing up his lower belly, and the proximity of Till's hands to it. ]
no subject
A mischievous grin unfurls across his face.]
Is that so...?
[He lets his fingers wander, feather-light, until they find that little groove. With a slow, deliberate motion, he strokes along the slim red line.
Ivan is self‑conscious about his body. He’s never said as much aloud, but Till can feel it in the marrow of their tether, clear as day. Maybe, if he can show Ivan that he isn’t repulsed or disgusted by this new form, Ivan will be able to accept himself—if only a little. Of course Till wants him back as he was. That isn’t because he hates what Ivan has become; it’s because he hates that someone else carved this change into him without consent.
That's hardly his only reason for wanting to explore him right now, though.
The truth is, Till can’t help the heat curling low in his own body in answer to the rising, anticipatory pulse in Ivan. Maybe he wants to see him come undone. Maybe he wants to taste again the edge of the ecstasy they shared that night, when flesh met flesh and they both went senseless with pleasure. Ivan was the one who bared that intimate memory of thinking of Till alone in a bathroom stall while he touched himself. Those desires haven’t gone anywhere. Right...?
He studies Ivan’s face intently, hungry for every flicker of reaction.]
How about now?