etrayalogs | [ CLOSED ] face to face we dance with our story

[ CLOSED ] face to face we dance with our story

WHO: Ivan (

ivan) and Till (

pethetic)
WHEN: Shortly after their discussion on Chirper
WHERE: Till's apartment
WHAT: Um. A lot probably, with Ivan having avoided Till for a month+ at the epicenter.
NOTES\WARNINGS: Alien Stage has a lot of triggers in and of itself. Both of these guys are dead. One is an obsessive, stalker freak who never got to learn any better and has 100 mental illness and the other is a little man with humongous feelings that are falling apart and he also has 100 mental illnesses. If you'd like more details of what you might encounter, feel free to check out Ivan's info post here.

[ ...well. till wasn't wrong when he guessed ivan knew where he lived. it's not really something ivan gives a second thought to, or whether or not it's "wrong."

and, perhaps, in true ivan fashion, and after hesitating for a moment (who is he????), he... lets himself in, slowly.

because i need to leave room for you to describe till's room, if you want.

this isn't a very familiar feeling. especially not with till. the closest thing he can relate this to is watching till run back toward the garden that night, before it was replaced with the most pain he'd ever felt, so much that he'd smiled.

from then, it started to make sense: till was for ivan, but ivan wasn't for till.

that's what he'd thought, anyway. ]

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[Till tries to use that time to calm down, but the waiting is unbearable. what if Ivan just doesn’t show up, and doesn’t answer his texts anymore?

even if Ivan does come through… Till feels nervous. he typically does, with Ivan. but still. he tries to regulate, but only kind of succeeds. he keeps his face mostly in his hands, breathing.

Till’s space is…dark. he has a lamp on, but not his overhead light. clothes are scattered about, and grocery bags of trash. nothing food, though, so nothing stinks. when Ivan comes in, Till straightens from where he sits, finally lifting his head. he’s lost some weight, and his eyes are so dark it almost looks like he’d been assaulted. they’re just a bit bloodshot too, as they widen.

his brows knit, ducking his head a bit, eyes a little glassy. he’s afraid to stand, like he might scare Ivan off—but similar to when he’d finally seen Mizi again, he can’t help the way he stands, on instinct. he takes a step closer, but it’s clear he’s holding back. his hand wrings against the flank of his pants as he swallows.

he wants to be so much closer that it’s unbearable. and strange.]

Ivan…

[ ivan takes a deep breath in, unintentional. he's unsure if it's just at seeing till up close, or seeing till look the way he does up close. either way, ivan can't take his eyes off till, groping around blindly behind him for the door so that he can shut it.

he intentionally mimics till, taking a step forward to match him. he feels pulled toward him, and that's a little confusing for ivan, who's spent all this time trying to stay away. when ivan watches till, till never looks at him. right now, he is.

ivan takes another step forward, this one staggered and uncertain, like he's confused about how it happened.

till looks so haggard. ivan wants to touch him, help tidy him up and tend to him like he has many times before. he notes till's body language, the hand curled into his clothing, the way till's body is sort of leaned forward while his feet are planted firm against the floor.

...does he want to come closer?

ivan takes another step. ]

...Till.

[it’s a relief that Ivan doesn’t recoil—even if he’d stayed in place, Till’s confidence would have wavered. with seeing Ivan step forward, Till does the same in a surge.

he throws his arms around Ivan, almost immediately going limp against him. his exhaustion catches up to him all at once. Till has no energy, and he feels frail. Ivan’s frame is a reprieve rather than something to scowl at; he’s always been envious of Ivan’s size, or truthfully, nervous of it. he grips between his shoulders and against the back of his neck, pressing his face against him, taking in his scent, like he’s trying to double-verify it’s really Ivan.

he can’t think of what to say, so just elects not to say anything. his eyes shut tightly.

it feels so good. it’s unbelievable.]

Edited 2024-12-26 09:28 (UTC)

[ when till advances toward him, ivan is expecting another headbutt or a running punch. when it ends up with till’s arms around him, ivan stumbles a little in surprise, eyes wide and lips wordlessly parted. till puts all of his weight on him, which… honestly isn’t much. it never has been. it’s different seeing him up close, feeling the change in his body weight. ivan could probably give a scarily accurate guess as to how much weight till’s lost.

probably a beat too late for till’s comfort, ivan’s arms find their way around till, too. ivan nestles his face against till’s shoulder, hands coming to rest around till’s waist, pressing him close.

ivan has always wanted this. so why does it feel as bad almost as it does good? ]

[despite how insistently and desperately Till was to talk on the network, it seems all that steam's left him—after all, all that prattling in distress was because Till wanted to see Ivan. and he was here, and he was warm, and he smelled as he remembered.

he'd only had about six hours to even process Ivan's death before he died himself—he'd then began to process it while Ivan was avoiding him, and even though Ivan was alive, all it had done was compound his grief. hence his strange, distorted thinking, like how it felt like he'd never see Ivan again.

Till's weight becomes so dead he's almost slack, leaning into him, eyelashes damping as they flutter against Ivan. he breathes deep, fingers curling tensely into the fabric of Ivan's clothing, and also against the back of his neck. his breath shudders then and he squeezes Ivan, exhaling slow and heavily. Till doesn't think he's ever felt this before. he's never felt so touch starved, partially due to grief, but it was probably also because Ivan was always touching him in some manner... until he wasn't. peacefully, the embrace blanks Till's mind as Ivan returns it.]

[ the only time ivan has ever seen or heard till be this quiet has either been in his sleep, unconscious, or so deeply shocked that he’s unable to say anything in the moment— like the moment when till had finally realized what was happening during the end of round six, the look on his face as ivan met his eyes for the last time.

ivan’s eyes half-lid and then close, wrenched shut. one of his hands comes up to thread in the back of till’s unkempt hair, instead, ivan nuzzling into him like he’d often only do if till was guaranteed out of it.

he’s unsure of what to say; he’s not exactly someone who’s very good at bringing comfort with words. till… will probably remember this one, though, won’t he? maybe he’ll understand. ]

Cheer up…

[ anyone normal might feel an immense amount of guilt to have someone they hurt cling to them like they’re afraid they might blink out of existence, and ivan does, to a degree. he recalls till’s message, WHO CARES, but if anyone cares, it’s till. he’d said he cared right before then, anyway.

maybe it’s better not to think about their social media posts, but it’s hard to let go of. ivan can at least tell that till is probably in no position to talk about them.

ivan wants to hold till tighter, but he’s worried that if he were to do that, he might snap till in half with how frail he is. ]

[ah. jeez.

that pulls a tear from Till, and a shuddering inhale; he clings harder, hiccuping around a soft sob. it's so nostalgic; childlike, even, wrenching his heart for the innocence of it, even if it's kind of dumb. he'd missed Ivan so much. he clutches now at the back of Ivan's head, softly pulling his hair. he reciprocates the nuzzle, sniffling as he reigns his tears back in. he needed this.]

You too...

[Ivan looks healthy, but his emotions affect him differently. he's mysterious as a whole, and Till doesn't quite understand his emotions in general... but he feels like if this really was some stupid misunderstanding, and Ivan didn't just hate him or lose interest in being around him, this couldn't have been nice for him either.

Till doesn't want to let go.]

Hey...

[Till finally opens his sore eyes, his lids heavy.]

Come with me to my bed...

[ oh, wow. till is reciprocating. ivan’s heart jumps into his throat. maybe it’s a little silly of him— till had already initiated a hug— but that the affection continues is something ivan is extra unfamiliar with. till said his name. it isn’t as if he’s hallucinating him as mizi, or something. he seemed lucid for the conversation they did manage to have, too.

…but, till is also crying, and ivan does end up holding him tighter because of it.

it’s true that the situation hasn’t been easy for ivan, either, despite it not showing on his face. till has always worn his feelings on his sleeve whether he wanted to or not. ivan has masked himself— from emotions to state of mind— most of his life. he’s already acclimated to sleeping less than five hours a night. the only issue is that here, in etraya, he’s left alone with his thoughts. he hasn’t exactly been a social butterfly here. back home, there wasn’t a lot of free time in his schedule to think, both at anakt and after he graduated.

till’s request catches him off guard, it being the opposite of what he’s used to hearing, and he pulls away from till a bit to look down at him. ]

Do you need help getting into it?

[ does till want to sleep? ivan supposes he’ll go after till falls asleep, then. ]

Something like that, sure...

[not at all. he does feel like he's about to collapse, but he wasn't going to have Ivan here, hug him for a couple minutes and literally go to bed. that's insane.

with no small amount of effort, Till does manage to lean off of Ivan. he grips the fabric on his biceps, wobbling a bit as he tries to keep his standing.]

Just come with me.

[ oh, okay. if till needs help, it’ll be much more efficient for ivan to pick him up than hobble alongside him. till seems so shaky, besides. ivan does so unceremoniously, easily, scooping till into his arms and walking unhurriedly to his bed…

…that… he has no idea on the location of. and so, ivan ends up at the end of the hallway. he didn’t try to look up the floor plan for till’s unit. there’s only a few rooms it could be, but… ]

What room is it?

Gah!! Fuck! Ivan!

[okay, so that's energy Till didn't know he still had deep in there. he kicks in surprise at first, then clings around Ivan's neck again, this time out of being startled.

even though they were just embracing so closely, Till weirdly felt embarrassed now. his face turns red, grumbling. he knows he's weak, but he isn't so weak he can't walk.

still, Till points shakily (now more due to nerves than weakness) towards the correct door.]

Th...there...

Hahaha, where’d that energy come from? Are you faking being weak so I’ll take care of you?

[ ivan knows that isn’t the case. he knows till is legitimately in a bad place, but somehow it feels easier to fall into this than it is to hang onto his own feelings about traumatizing till.

it’ll come back to him when he’s alone, probably, and the realization he made it worse eventually will too, but… not right now, when ivan can see the blush color till’s cheeks, even in his (extremely) dimly lit apartment. it’s a sign of life, of till being alive, being here. it’s familiar.

ivan seems to sober up a little when he enters till’s room (“seems to” being the keywords). if there’s garbage or clothes strewn about here, too, ivan doesn’t care or doesn’t notice. he’s only looking at till. ]

Should I help you change? [ another teasing request, but only because he knows till will flail to the best of his ability and turn it down. ivan makes sure he’s close to the edge of the bed for that reason. ]

Turns out you shocked some life into me, [Till mutters.]

[to Ivan's next question, his eyes widen, staring wide-eyed and wary at Ivan.] D-don't be stupid, [Till gripes, hot to either of his ears. he does legitimately find it annoying, but he also finds great comfort in the mundanity of it. "their" mundane, but.]

You can put me down, now...

Okay. [ he isn’t certain whether till wants to be sitting or laying, so ivan makes the decision to lay him down, putting them in a risqué sort of position for just a moment.

it takes ivan maybe a few seconds too long to push himself away from till.

what… what does he do now

ivan crouches down on the floor, laying his head on the edge of the mattress to peer at till. he reaches out to lightly touch one of till’s red-tipped ears. ]

[Till stares up at Ivan when he's laid down, heart thudding strangely—he narrows his eyes and scowls a little. he didn't mean directly on the bed.. he could have... just put him on his feet, and Till could have just laid himself down. Till glances away, the pressure too much, red down to his neck. in fact, he was hoping Ivan would do that...

now he's not as sure how to exact his plan...

however, his eyes are caught by Ivan as he crouches, rolling onto his cheek. again, there's something so...childlike about it. he almost feels like he can see Ivan like when he was a child, if he squints... it could also be his tired delirium. Till flinches a bit when his ear is touched, but despite his expression, Till doesn't slap his hand away. of course not. even if it bothered him more, he doesn't want to give Ivan a chance to feel rejected. he has to endure it.]

The fuck are you doing down there...

G...

[Till curls forward, hiding his face against the inside of both of his arms, fingers brushing through his own hair.]

Get... up here... with me.

[

what?

]

[ ivan, eyes wide, lets his eyes scan over till. he takes stock of everything he can: till’s blush doesn’t seem to have faded, though hidden now— it seems darker, if anything— they way he hides his face, seemingly unable to look at ivan. and. bed????¿ on bed, till with¿?

stupidly, ivan blurts out, now out of his head and voiced: ]

Huh?

[Till throws what seems to be a wadded up shirt of his at Ivan's face, face still red.]

Just get on the fucking bed with me, Ivan!!

[ the shirt hits ivan clear in the face, and after a little pause, drops to the floor, revealing the same dumb expression. when ivan leaves, maybe he’ll take it with him. stealing till’s clothes like a freak in every universe.

ivan’s expression finally becomes a little less stupid, and he crawls over till to lay down beside him, on his side so that he can stare at him in a definitely normal way— something similar to awe. ]

[god. was that so hard you fucking idiot freak.

but this is good enough. Till wanted to be near Ivan, but was too tired to stay standing, but even with getting a bit more clarity after his emotions being so strong initially, Till's body and soul still yearn for the balm of touch. but... he's horizontal now. he felt ready to drop even when standing. what if he falls asleep?

Till grits his teeth in embarrassment, pushing himself up to shove Ivan by his shoulders so he's rolled onto his back—and Till just drops on top of him, partially to the side. he's embarrassed as fuck! yes! but whatever! this is to be sure that Ivan can't slip away again.]

I-if I fall asleep... I'll know if you try to leave, so...

[ yeah it was and his penis might also be soon ]

[ hello? hello? segyein number for 911? the guy i’m in love with and obsessed with has pinned me to his bed? did i break him?

ivan watches till with rapt attention, eyes wide again, a bit alarmed, a bit flushed. ]

Hey. You know. [ ivan’s voice is a little. uneven.

watch out, ESTJ and autism making its landing here and now ] Isn’t this position kind of sexual?

[ and then till drops down. okay. not quite as suggestive, now.

…oh. that’s why. well. ivan feels slightly less ruffled. till… really doesn’t want him to leave. ivan’s heart isn’t beating wildly anymore so much as it is twisting uncomfortably.

he doesn’t like it.

ivan lifts his hand to thread back into till’s hair. ]

…I won’t try to leave.

Shut up, [Till mumbles in embarrassment, ears hot when Ivan suggests their placements were at all sexual—maybe so, but that wasn't Till's intention. he hadn't been thinking about it. sex is never really on his mind, but it hasn't been further from it in a while.

he jumps slightly when he feels Ivan stroke through his hair again, and subsequently, he relaxes. he feels his burning eyes sting with tears as they cling to his lashes, but his eyes are so dry, they don't really fall. he nuzzles as a means to hide away when Ivan says he won't try to leave, tucked against Ivan. his breath becomes a bit taught, feeling anxiety well in a spike within him.]

What if you change your mind...?

I don't want this to be... the last...

[ ivan’s chest feels tight again. he’s always wanted till to want him, but the way it’s happened feels—… it’s not good. right? ]

… I can’t promise you this place won’t suddenly decide to send me home. [ and… back to being. well. dead. ] But if it’s my choice, I won’t leave.

[ he realizes this won’t quell till’s anxiety, but that’s the reality of the situation. gently, ivan adds his nails to the mix, giving till a half head scratch, half head massage. ]

I might have to pee at some point though.

[Till nods absentmindedly, then his eyes widen briefly. his muscles slack almost completely as they slide half closed, melting from the head scratch, too tired and too relieved to have the dignity of embarrassment.]

Fine, whatever... We'll just deal with it then. I guess.

[his brain is rapidly shutting down.]

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1/2

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1/2 again lol

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