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. ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[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.]

[ recognizing the signs that till’s about to drift off, ivan only hums in agreement. ivan used to watch till sleep, whether or not he was “invited.” now he’s in till’s room, in till’s bed, after being asked to be there.

he’s not totally convinced he’s not the one sleeping.

ivan isn’t certain yet if he’ll completely distance himself from music and singing— personally, not from others performances— but till will always be an exception. obviously, ivan would sing on command if that command came from till. while he hasn’t asked ivan for anything, ivan is still going to do something for till.

he doesn’t sing, but hums black sorrow, slow and quiet as he continues the movement of his hand in till’s hair.

if he doesn’t like it, well… till can tell him to shut up.

this is so surreal. ]

[hearing Ivan speak had been comforting enough—but he’d always liked Ivan’s singing voice. he always found it amusing how was such a startling, off putting perosn, but he had such a beautiful, soothing voice—even when he spoke, honestly. he’d missed hearing it. maybe more than the nearness, his anything from other senses.

he blearily remembers this song; he hasn’t heard it many times, but he’d funnily sang it himself one of the times he’d been tasked to entertain Urak’s buddies. when he was a bit younger, though. maybe 19.

so he can’t quite remember it—trying to recall the lyrics are they’re song makes Till’s expression slightly pensive, but it ends up being the last of activity he can manage, lulling himself to sleep unintentionally. his expression is peaceful then.

it was inevitable; Till had felt himself getting alarmingly sleepy alarmingly fast when he was standing. with Ivan petting his hair and filling Till’s dark room with the soft, quiet tides of his singing… it’s a natural outcome.]

[ closing his eyes, ivan focuses on the sound of till’s breathing. is he out already? sounds like it. ivan finishes up the song and then goes silent.

he’s used to being silent and being able to move just as quietly, though avoided it back home for the most part after childhood. it was something that didn’t sit well with most of the other kids— none of the other kids were anything like him. that was no exception. it was something he had to avoid, not practice.

except for with till.

with till tucked against him this way, ivan has a pretty good view of his face. despite his gaunt cheeks and the dark circles under his eyes— much more than usual— till looks… relaxed. ivan… made him relaxed. ivan made him relaxed?

again, his mind goes back to their exchange. till “yelling” at ivan that he did care, then following it up with that he didn't care about ivan’s turmoil with having left till with trauma. telling him to come and meet him.

till… just wanted to see him. to be with him. is that right?

there’s a strange sensation on his cheek, something dripping, and ivan lifts his free hand to his cheek in case it’s not just his imagination. and it isn’t. he’s… crying?

ivan rests his head back against the bed, unsure how to deal with this but not wanting any of his tears to drip onto till. staring up at the ceiling, he very quietly murmurs, this time to himself: ]

…cheer up, cheer up…

[part of what’s kept Till from sleep isn’t just insomnia—it’s horrific dreams that Till’s done better to avoid by staying up until he drops. solves both problems!

but now, his head is completely empty, like soft static. for now. it’s more peaceful than it has been, for a long time… Till’s body is completely relaxed, his weight totally dead. he shifts as he sleeps for a better, more comfortable fit, mumbling incoherently.

Ivan’s scent, coupled with the rise and fall of his chest, caging his beating heart, and his warmth… all combined, it does well to soothe the subconscious.]

[ ivan's tears eventually slow to a stop— it hadn't been a big cry to begin with— and he cranes his head toward till again when he hears him mumbling. he's torn between the desire to watch till and the desire to nuzzle himself against him, even if it doesn't mean sleep for ivan.

he meets his desires somewhere in the middle, leaning his head against the top of till's, nuzzling his nose against his hair.

it's... kind of uncomfortable, so ivan tries to shift onto his side using as little movement as possible, and after a moment of hovering his arm over till's body, lets it drape over his side.

...so skinny... ]

[Till does notice the subtle shift, and though it doesn’t snap him awake, it does cause him to stir a little; his fingers twitch along with his brow. but he seems to relax again with a heavy, content breath when he subconsciously registers the weight of Ivan’s arm against him.

Till shifts his legs as he settles into his slightly adjusted position, somewhat entangling them with Ivan’s. once it seems Till’s content again, his breathing deepens again, heavy, quiet and long.]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

2/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2 again lol

2/2

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject