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Ivan didn’t actually need to be here.
Her bank account could have funded the entire fundraiser twice over, and everyone knew it. But when she overheard Mizi trying to convince Till helping out at the charity café, the moment she heard Till’s reluctant, small yes she knew she’d have to join too.
It wasn’t about charity. It was about Till. Till in a maid uniform.
“Aw, don’t pout.” Ivan said smoothly. She’d been standing there for two full minutes, just watching Till fumble with the hem of her skirt like she could glare it into growing longer. “You look cute in that.”
Still with her back facing her, Till jolted in surprise, and it was just a seconds reaction before her brain processed who that voice came from. She turned, scowl strong enough to kill a weaker woman.
“I’m not pouting.”
She definitely was. Pouting and scowling at the same time with her lips jutting out, thin brows furrowed in a way that made Ivan’s heart ache. But her gaze wasn’t on Till’s lips anymore, it trailed down, now that she could see the full uniform in its glory.
Till wore a flimsy black skirt that showed most of her skinny thighs, puffy and adorable, the opposite of how she liked to dress. Ivan adored Till’s style— varying from fishnets, ripped jeans, large shirts that exposed her collarbones— but seeing her in something so feminine and doll-like sent heat simmering down her gut.
If she admitted that she was the one to ‘suggest’ Till’s outfit, she’d end up a dead woman.
“Why do I have to wear this,” Till grumbled, “while you get pants and a suit jacket?”
“Not our choice…” Ivan licks her lips, eyes finally drifting back up to her face. She noticed that Till’s ears were significantly redder. “I knew you would be sulking like this, so, I bought you coffee. Your favorite. Bitter, foul: iced americano.”
She holds it up dramatically like a sacred offering, and Till visibly perks up, a smile forming at the corner of her lips despite herself. It almost made Ivan feel bad. It almost made her feel bad because it all was going exactly as planned.
Ivan lifts the cup, the disgustingly sour, shame of coffee cup, catches the way Till’s tired eyes light up with stars—
— and drops it.
“Oops.”
“Kyaaa— What the fuck?!” Till complains in shock, jerking back too late as the dark liquid splattered down her front. Her white blouse clung instantly, translucent where it plastered against her collarbones and chest.
Ivan’s throat went dry.
“Oh no, I’m so sorry…” Ivan pouts in that fake way she was so good at, snatching up a cloth. She dabbed at the damp fabric with mock concern, unable to look away from the black bra now visible beneath. Black lace. Jesus Christ. “Oh no, what a mess…”
Suddenly, her brain spun with memories; how Till’s nipple piercings felt under her palms on that one night, how sensitive they made her, the sounds that left her mouth when she pulled at them. She mindlessly kept dabbing the cloth over her chest, until Till grabbed her wrist and yanked it away.
“Ivan.” Ivan blinked out of her haze. By now Till’s face had became a tomato, glaring up at her without knowing Ivan found it extremely hot when she looked like she was about to brutally murder her. “You. Are. An. Asshole.”
“I already apologized, Till.” She straightens her back, dusting off her palms like she was some kind of heroine that did something useful. She’s surprised Till didn’t lunge at her. At least, not yet. “You can just ditch the shirt and only wear the blazer. They don’t have extra shirts here.”
“Fuck no!” Till covered her chest. She then suddenly closes her eyes and takes a deep breath. Ivan takes two steps back just in case. “You have a jacket. Give me your shirt.”
“Oh? You want me to take off my shirt, just like that?” Ivan smirked, taking a step back closer. “Woah Till, I didn’t know you—“
“Shut the fuck up!” Till shoved at her hard enough to send her stumbling backwards into a counter, hard, but Ivan just laughed. “Ugh, whatever!”
Till looked at the small, sleeveless black blazer and snatched it decisively, marching towards the toilet. Ivan called after her.
“Wait— Till!”
She stopped, turned halfway, a flicker of hope on her face— maybe, just maybe Ivan had grown a conscience.
Ivan tossed something at her.
Black bunny ears.
“Uniform’s not complete without these.”
The middle finger and promise of death Ivan received was much deserved.
The worst part wasn’t the heels, or even the ridiculous outfit.
The worst part was Ivan.
She was everywhere— behind the counter, delivering orders, laughing that fake laugh that made everyone melt. And she looked… good. Actually, she looked unfairly good in that suit. Sleeves rolled up just enough to show her forearms, masculine, broad in the shoulders. Her tie loose, her smirk dangerous.
Till’s stomach flipped every time she caught herself looking too long. She kissed me with those hands, her heart whispered. Or her cunt. No matter how many times she tried to erase it, the memory was engraved into her skin: Ivan’s grip on her waist, strong and steady, mouth hot and greedy.
Her heels caught on nothing, and she stumbled on air. A few heads turned to her. She clenched her tray tighter and willed her face blank.
It didn’t help that Ivan was popular.
Every two minutes, someone was flirting with her. A girl brushing her hair back and batting her lashes, another one touching her forearm. And Ivan— Ivan just took it, grinning like it was all a game, like she didn’t notice the way Till’s blood boiled with every laugh that wasn’t meant for her.
Till snapped before she thought.
When some silver haired girl who had been talking to Ivan for about fifteen minutes (she didn’t count okay, it’s normal to notice) leaned over and touched Ivan’s tie, Till stormed across the café, grabbed Ivan by the sleeve, and yanked her away. “We’re out of napkins,” she blurted, dragging her toward the back room.
“…are we?” Ivan asked, amused, letting herself be dragged.
“Yes,” Till hissed, even though the shelves were fully stocked. Inside the storage room, she closed the door and shoved Ivan against it, glaring. “Stop letting them touch you.”
Ivan tilted her head like a confused puppy. “What?”
“You heard me.” Till hissed. She didn’t even know why she was so angry, or why her eyes kept drifting downward where Ivan had unbuttoned yet another button. She remembers too well the soft, warm feeling on her palms.
“My eyes are up here, Till.” Ivan smirked, and Till then felt like she was about to combust on the spot. Before she could come up with something to terribly defend herself, Ivan asked: “Are you jealous?”
“I— what? No—“ Till’s chest heaved, more memories of their drunk kiss clawing up again— how Ivan’s lips had tasted like beer and intensity, how she couldn’t breathe when Ivan’s hands pinned her down. “S-shut up!”
“Make me.” The asshole’s smirk was unbearable. Smug, knowing, daring. Asshole.
Till’s hand fisted Ivan’s tie. For one, wild second, she thought she’d kiss her.
Instead, she shoved.
Ivan stumbled back into the shelves, catching herself with one hand. Napkins tumbled down, straws skittered across the floor. She clicked her tongue. “Oh, so we’re doing this?”
“You’re infuriating!” Till snapped, cheeks flaming. “You think everything’s a joke. You let people paw all over you—“
“And you care why?” Ivan interrupted, voice sharp as ice. “Because you want to be the only one receiving attention from people?”
“I said shut up!”
Till shoved her again, harder. Ivan barely moved this time, only caught her wrist with a firm grip, her thumb brushing over the rapid pulse. “And I dare you, make me.”
That was it. Till lunged. The back storage clattered with noise as they shoved each other against shelves, more packets of napkins and cups and everything raining down on them ungraciously. Ivan laughed— laughed— even as Till kicked her shin.
“You’re insane!” Till yelled with a paper cup stuck in her bunny ears. “I hate you!”
“I know you do.” Ivan let out a noise that sounded a little too suspiciously pleased as Till’s fist knocked into her cheek. They were breathing hard, locked in a stalemate of shoves and glares.
“You’re such a fucking—“ Till started, but the words tangled in her throat. Ivan’s breath was hot against her cheek, their mouths too close.
“Say it,” Ivan murmured, chest aching. “C’mon, Till. Call me names.”
Till growled and pushed her harder to the floor, pinning her. Being an athlete, Ivan was much bigger than Till, but she gladly let her, tilting her throat back like she was enjoying every second.
And then Till climbed higher, knees on either sides of Ivan’s hips, her weight settling onto her. Her silver bangs clung to her damp forehead, her blazer now only serving as an illusion of modesty by the way it became so undone her chest was almost fully exposed. She looked like burning fire, with flames so hot that they turned blue.
Till then froze, like she had just realized how close they were, like something came back to her. Their hips were molded together, and Ivan had to summon all of her self-restraint to not buck hers up against Till’s.
One wrong move and Till would be kissing her again— sober this time, deliberate.
The door barged open.
“What the hell—“ Hyuna stood in the doorway, eyes widening as she took the scene in. Behind her, Sua peeked in, unamused.
Till froze, dropping Ivan’s tie like it burnt her hand. Ivan, of course, had the audacity to wink on the floor, sliding one hand over Till’s thigh like it belonged there. Her shirt that was mostly open now even had a few ripped buttons, showing off her red bra like a flashing accusation.
They did not look innocent.
“Are you seriously hooking up in the supply closet?” Sua deadpanned.
“The fuck?!” Till chocked.
“She started it,” Ivan said smoothly, smug. She was exactly where she wanted to be.
“You spilled coffee on me earlier!” Till shot back, silver bangs falling into her face, cheeks crimson.
“Accidents happen, Till.”
“You’re an accident!”
“Okay, enough!” Hyuna clapped her hands, marching between them. “You two are acting like kids. Separate corners. Now.”
Till got on her feet and tried to hide the way her knees shook but Ivan noticed. She leaned against the counter, unbothered, adjusting her tie and shirt while making intense eye contact. Till was fuming, skirt askew, glaring daggers that could kill.
Hyuna pinched the bridge of her nose. “Do you remember what we’re here for? This is a fundraiser.”
Ivan only smiled sweetly, eyes never leaving Till. A spark of something hot and urgent ran down Till’s clit. “Don’t worry, Hyu. We raised morale.”
Till nearly tackled her again. Instead, she stormed outside the room with her fists clenched and tears in her eyes.
The next hour passed in a blur. Ivan didn’t even remember taking orders, or flashing her practiced grin at classmates who came in for overpriced coffees. Her skin still brimmed with energy, as all she could think about was the way Till had looked on top of her earlier— wild, feral, practically vibrating against her, like she wanted to hurt her and maybe something else. The breakable nature underneath.
Her cheek still ached faintly where Till’s knuckles had grazed her. She didn’t bother on covering the bruise with makeup, carrying it like a medal of honor.
When lunchtime came, she pushed open the supply room door to grab her food— and froze.
Till was already there, perched on a chair with her skirt rucked indecently high on her thighs, chewing angrily at a straw wrapper like a starving beast. Adorable.
The second her eyes snapped up, they narrowed. “What the fuck do you want?”
Ivan swallowed the sting in her chest. It hurt, it really did, the way Till always looked at her like that lately. An inconvenience. Uncomfortable. Like kissing her that night hadn’t meant anything but a mistake.
“Chill, princess,” Ivan said lightly, stepping in and shutting the door behind her. “I just came to get my lunch. Didn’t know this was your throne room.”
“Then get it and leave.” Till’s voice was too sharp, defensive. She looked anywhere but Ivan.
Something shattered behind Ivan’s rib cage, because through their years of friendship they’ve been everything but awkward, and now Till couldn’t even stand to look at her. “You always this hostile, or is it just with me?”
“Just you.”
She let out a short, humorless laugh. “Figures.”
Till frowned, caught off guard by the crack in her voice. “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”
Ivan set her lunch down on a counter, leaning against it tiredly.
Fuck it.
“Means that I didn’t seem so annoying to you when you had your tongue down my throat.”
That shut Till up. Completely.
Her sharp eyes went wide, cheeks flushing crimson. “Don’t—“ she hissed, pointing a finger at her, “—don’t bring that up.”
“Why not?” Ivan’s voice dropped, almost gentle despite the edge. This was the first time they addressed what happened, and Ivan’s heart beat like her nervous system was sensing danger. Still, she continued; “You kissed me like you meant it. Or was that just the tequila?”
Till surged forward, shoving at her shoulder, hard enough to rattle the shelves, right after they had to put all they shoved down back. “Shut. Up.”
Ivan barely had time to breathe before Till’s mouth crashed into hers.
Ivan didn’t know what to expect from Till this time, her unpredictable nature taking her off guard. All the years she fantasized and yearned for this moment were fulfilled in a single instant, a single press of lips.
Till’s kiss wasn’t careful or soft— she kissed like she fought. There was an edge of desperation to it, and when Till pulled away because of Ivan not kissing back, already tearing up and ready to run away, Ivan dove back in again.
Ivan’s lesbian neurons finally activated again and she wasted no time to push Till against the wall, pinning one wrist over her head like she was scared Till would run away. Till let out a noise of surprise before moving her lips with heat like she hated her and wanted her in the same breath. Ivan didn’t care which it was. She’d take it all, anything Till gave her.
“What the fuck…” Ivan mumbles against the seam of Till’s peachy lips when they part to breathe, “Till, I— I’ve wanted this for so lo—“
“Do you ever shut up?” Till hissed and kissed her again, using her free hand to feel around Ivan, who discreetly flexed her biceps when Till squeezed them from over her blazer.
Ivan allows herself to explore as well and slips one hand under Till’s blazer, tracing circles around her nipples over her bra before grabbing her small tit and squeezing strong enough to make her moan loudly. The kiss becomes ten times more heated after that.
Noticing Till’s need through her shaking and her little moans, Ivan slides one thigh in between her legs, who immediately sits down on it and gasps when her damp panties meet hard muscle.
“Feels good baby?” Ivan murmurs in the shell of her lips, raising her thigh more as Till starts grinding against it. Till nods frantically, not trusting her own voice. She already feels a wet spot starting to form where Till was mindlessly rutting and humping against. Ivan will never wash these pants again. She’ll put them in a vacuum sealed plastic bad and only open it to sniff them when she was really horny. “I can make you feel even better, if only you let me.”
“Ivan…” Till calls weakly, but she hid her face, burying it into the croon of her neck.
“What is it, Till?” She answers softly, rubbing at her waist. Her thumb traced circles over Till’s sharp hipbones, and when she feels the band of her panties, she harshly pulls it upward, making Till cry out in surprise. “Tell me.”
Till can’t talk. All coherent thoughts leave her, making her grip Ivan’s hand from her waist and guide it down, where she ached the most. Ivan immediately receives the message and gets to work.
Her finger finds Till’s clit easily, alternating between rubbing it in circles and giving it little pulls that make Till choke on her own breath. Ivan wonders if Till was already turned on before the kiss because her panties were entirely soaked, so she tries to rip them out of the way.
“I-Ivan, don’t rip it!” Till complains, grabbing her wrist.
“Fine.” She reluctantly settles to pulling them to the side, squishing Till’s fat pussy lips together.
This time, she would make it worth.
Ivan runs two calloused fingers along the slight silver hair in her pussy before bringing them to her lips, groaning as she tasted Till’s fluids like it was the best thing she ever tasted.
“What a fucking pervert.” Till breathed, then threw her head back as two fingers were shoved in her all at once.
She gasped for breath, cunt clenching and pulsating around her fingers hungrily, struggling to adjust around her as they were much bigger than her own. Ivan curls them upwards, making Till moan so loudly she has to cover her mouth with her free hand.
“Shhh, baby.” Ivan murmurs, voice low and velvety against the shell of her ear. “Don’t want anyone hearing us, right? Can you be quiet?” Till nods frantically, eyes wide as Ivan kept pushing her fingers in and out so forcefully her cunt squelched embarrassingly loud. “Good girl.”
That makes her close her eyes and let out a muffled noise, clenching desperately, hungry for more. Ivan gets the memo and another finger joins, reaching as far as she could to rub at her walls while making sure to press on her clit with her palm. She trembled so much that if it wasn’t for Ivan supporting her she would’ve already fallen to the floor.
Her own cunt was getting increasingly wet by seeing Till like this: eyes half lidded, tears of lust streaming down her face, making a beautiful, tragic mess of her mascara. Desperate for Ivan, at her complete mercy.
One hand still buried in Till’s cunt, Ivan takes the blazer out with her help, then pushes her against the counter next to them so that Till could sit on it. Ivan puts her mouth on a tit, nipping the piercing lightly with her teeth before sucking next to her nipple. She briefly wonders if she had piercings anywhere else.
Till surprises her by pulling her by the hair and clashing their lips together again, but this time slow, lingering, almost… gentle. Her hands trembled where they rested on Ivan’s shoulders, holding her like she was afraid to let go.
Ivan smirked into the kiss, pulling back just enough to look at her. Till’s eyes were heavy-lidded, cheeks burning, lips swollen and pink. Her short hair fell over her eyes and it all just made her look somehow even more ethereal.
Sweet, Ivan thought. Too sweet.
“Well, this is new,” Ivan murmured, cupping one of Till’s flushed cheeks. Her fingers had stilled inside her momentarily, and she suddenly curls them up to see Till whine. “Didn’t know you had it in you, sugar.”
Till blinked, embarrassed, as if she just slipped out of a haze. “Shut up. I don’t—“
Ivan didn’t give her a chance to protest by swallowing the words with another kiss, deep and slow, matching the pace of her fingers. When Ivan pulled back, Till actually whimpered, chasing her lips with a pout. Ivan’s chest burnt with how much she wanted her.
“God,” Ivan drawled, “you’re so horny you turned soft. Cute little Till, finally begging for it without even realizing.”
She glared, but the pants coming out her parted lips betrayed her. “You’re an asshole.” She says, giving up on telling Ivan to shut up because it clearly wasn’t working.
“Hm, maybe,” Ivan says, then pulls her three fingers out just to slam back in with so much force her own wrist cramped a little. That makes Till start sobbing, unable to escape the waves of pleasure and Ivan’s body crowding over. “But you like it, don’t you?”
“No!” Despite agreeing in keeping quiet, Till can’t keep the loud noises coming out of her lips anymore, so Ivan had to get creative. It was hot how responsive Till was, and Ivan would love to hear more but if someone heard and barged in then this would all be over, and she doesn’t know if Till would ever let her get this close again.
Ivan grabbed the nearest rag from the counter and stuffed it between Till’s lips before she could cry out again. Till’s muffled gasp sent a shiver straight down Ivan’s spine— eyes wide, wet, furious, but not pulling away.
“Shh,” Ivan drawled, voice low, deliberate, pressing her palm over the cloth to make sure it stayed there. She slid Till’s thighs open wider, admiring the flushed slickness between them like it was art meant only for her. “Didn’t I tell you to be quiet?”
Till whimpered against the rag, glaring up at her through tears, but the way her hips rocked betrayed her.
Ivan’s grin turned sharp. “Poor little thing. Can’t keep your mouth shut, can’t keep your legs closed. Always thought you actually hate me, but—“
Till spat the rag away, spit-slicked and useless now, to kiss her again to shut her up. This time teeth met teeth, pulling on her bottom lip.
“Fuck, Till, if you let me have a next time I’m gonna strap you so good...” Ivan said, dazed. “I promise. Would you like that?”
Till nodded eagerly, messy silver bangs sticking to her damp forehead, her nails scraping at Ivan’s shoulders, pulling her closer instead of pushing her away, body arching like she couldn’t decide between fighting or giving in.
Her thumb circled her clit, cruel and slow, until Till’s thighs clamped around her wrist.
“Be a good girl and come for me, Till.”
The praise landed like a strike— Till’s body jolted, eyes fluttering shut. She came apart fast and messy around Ivan’s fingers, gasping her name over and over, voice breaking with every wave.
Ivan held her through it, working her gently, licking a stripe up her flushed cheek and peppering her jaw with kisses. When Till finally slumped, trembling and boneless, Ivan pulled out slow and deliberate, sucking her fingers clean while keeping unrelenting eye contact.
“Good job, baby.” Ivan mumbles in the seam of Till’s lips, wiping her hand in a nearby napkin to hold Till’s waist, her body in between Till’s legs. “You did so well for me.”
“Did I?” Till looks up at her, fucked-out and flushed, her eyes a silent plead for more praises. Ivan pats her hair, and she leans onto her touch almost like a purring cat.
“Yeah, of course you did.” Ivan wipes her tears, massages her thighs. Besides her biting and non-conformist way of living, Till was something delicate that Ivan wanted to take care of.
They stay like that for a while, Till deep in the bliss of the orgasm aftermath, kissing Ivan’s lips with a gentleness that had an edge of desperation in it, a kind that made Ivan’s heart ache with hope.
But hoping was dangerous, so she quickly dims it down. Till was just in need. Her body and mind needed Till in every possible sense, but if this was the only way she could have her, that would be fine. She would make the best of what she could have.
Till was still struggling to catch her breath when Ivan drops down to her knees in between her legs, licking her own lips as she watched with starry eyes the mess in between Till’s legs the same way a critic would analyze an art piece. She starts lapping at the stream of fluid Till had on her thighs like she was starving of thirst.
“I-Ivan! What are you doing?” Till grabs her hair, legs muscle’s still clenching and unclenching, face flushed. Ivan wanted to devour her from head to toe. “I-I just came!”
“Relax, princess,” Ivan murmured, gripping her thighs to force them open again. Her smirk curved into something dangerously tender, though her eyes gleamed red. “I’m just gonna clean you up.”
“How the fuck is that cleaning when it’s your tongue?!“
She ignores the question and grabs Till’s wrists from her hair to pin them together over the table next to her hip, not missing the way her cunt twitched at being manhandled. Ivan leaned in and licked a slow stripe up the inside of her thigh, not even touching where she was most sensitive, and still from above her she heard a strangled, sweet sound.
“Ivan— the uniform, it’s g-gonna show—“ Till’s nails dig into the counter, she whimpers and gasps while trying to speak, but doesn’t try to stop Ivan. “They’re gonna see…”
“Shh…” Ivan soothed mockingly, dragging her tongue across the other thigh. “You made such a mess, I can’t just leave you like this.”
Her tongue traced circles higher, stopping maddeningly close to Till’s swollen cunt before sliding away again. Ivan’s grin only widened as Till shivered.
“You taste better here anyway.”
Till’s hips jerked despite herself, a frustrated groan leaving her throat. “You’re— you’re impossible.”
“And you’re trembling,” Ivan countered, voice rough with a hunger she couldn’t hide anymore. She finally pressed her mouth over Till’s pussy, just the barest flick of her tongue against her clit, and Till nearly screamed.
“See?” Ivan whispered into her, breath hot, tongue already dipping lower. “I told you. Cleaning.”
Till’s knees buckled, and she grabbed Ivan’s hair like it was the only thing keeping her upright. She gives an experimental bite next to a mole she had on her thigh, then leaves a bruise next to it, making Till close her thighs around her head. So this is the heaven they talk about on religions, Ivan reasons.
However, the more Till squeezed her thighs, the closer her cunt came to Ivan’s face. Till blushes when a drop slides along her slit when Ivan noses it lightly.
“Oh?” She asks, licking up a stripe along her slit experimentally. She’s proud of Till for managing to muffle her scream. “You want more already?”
“N-no!” Till tries to defend herself, but her cunt kept clenching and unclenching around nothing.
“You sure?” Ivan brushed her fang against her clit, and Till’s body jerked so violently she had to pin one of her thighs while the other hand still had her wrists together. “Because I think your little cunt is still hungry.”
She finally stops teasing and puts her whole hot mouth around Till’s cunt, grumbling so she could feel the vibrations.
“Pretty Till, so pretty.” Ivan grumbles like she’s in a trance. Till whines, “No, no…”
Ivan glances up to see Till’s back arched in a beautiful bow, nipples hardened prettily. She wished she could admire the sight better, maybe take a picture, but she had other work to do. The sight makes her groans into her cunt and speed up.
It didn’t take long for Till to break again.
Her head tipped back against the shelves, lips parted, gasping with every flick of Ivan’s tongue. The usual sharpness, the endless sarcasm, the snapping back— all of it melted into something softer, desperate.
“Ivan—“ she hiccuped, tears streaming down her face again, the sound heartbreakingly sweet, “please— d-don’t stop, Ivan.”
Ivan’s chest squeezed so tight it almost hurt. She never thought she’d hear Till beg like that, not for her, not like this. Just like in her guilty fantasies. She tightened her grip on Till’s wrists and doubled down, lapping at her clit like she could drink the noises from there.
Till’s thighs shook around her head. “Oh God— oh my God, Ivan, I—“ Her voice pitched higher, dissolving into little broken cries that had Ivan’s cunt clenching in her ruined slacks. Till’s hips bucked against her tongue, desperate, helpless, until she shattered with a strangled sob, coming hard against Ivan’s mouth.
Ivan groaned as she pressed her mouth to her clit and let the clear squirt flood her mouth, savoring every pulse, every shiver of Till’s release like it was her own lifeline. She barely had time to gulp as the gushes kept coming one after the other, and when it stopped, Till’s body fell backwards.
She didn’t stop after Till came, lost in a trance as she lapped at her folds like a starved woman. Till whimpers in overstimulation and tries to weakly kick her with her foot but Ivan stays in place, only stopping when she hears Till wrack with sobs and feels a punch to her head.
When she finally pulled back, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and smirked up at her. Till was flushed all over, silver bangs stuck to her forehead, chest heaving.
“That was good.” She massages her own jaw, standing up to cup Till’s pretty face, wiping her tears.
“W… what about you?” Till voice trembled as she eyed her, “I’ll help you—“
“You already did.” Ivan states, startled because Till sounded… earnest.
“What?”
“I came from eating you out.” She flexed her aching jaw, pointing down to show the dark stain spreading on her own trousers, damp and clinging. “You’re just so fucking hot…”
“Oh my God. You really are a fucking pervert.”
“Don’t try to get me excited again,” Ivan smirks and kisses her neck, not knowing how she managed to keep herself from leaving marks along her tanned skin.
Till jutted her lips and narrowed her eyes, mumbling something incoherent. Ivan wanted to grab her chin and tell her—
“Shit!” Till suddenly gasped, scrambling upright. “How long have we been gone for—“
“Lunch break,” Ivan reminded smoothly, fixing her tie with deliberate slowness. “Perfectly normal to disappear for half an hour.”
“It’s been more than half an hour, Ivan!” Till hissed, frantically yanking her blazer back into place, trying and failing to cover her torso with it. “What would they think we were—“
Ivan caught her wrist before she could storm out, leaned down, and pressed a quick kiss to the corner of her mouth. “Let ‘em know.”
Till froze, eyes wide. A beat of charged silence passes before she yanks her hand back and bolts out the door, muttering curses under her breath.
Ivan lingered a second longer, grinning to herself despite the mess between her thighs. It wasn’t much visible, she’d manage to clean up. For now, she rolled her shoulders, put on her mask of ice, and strolled out after her— perfectly smooth, like she hadn’t just been on her knees.
“Look who decided to come to work,” Hyuna spots her immediately after she comes back from the toilet. “Where the hell have you been?”
“Storage room,” Ivan says the truth cooly, “rearranging the stocks. You’d be surprised with how many stuff there need to be thrown.”
“Alright…” Hyuna eyes her suspiciously, but Ivan was good at wearing masks. Lying was almost a capability at this point. “Suspicious, but whatever. Get back to work.”
And Ivan does.
She goes back to her spot behind the counter like nothing happened, only a light dampness to her forehead and a cramp on her right hand fingers that she stretched from time to time.
Till, on the other hand, was far from back like nothing happened. She appears a few minutes after, face set in that chronic frown of hers, but her ears and neck were still bright red. Her bunny ears were gone (tragedy). The make-up was almost entirely fixed save for a few dark smudges around her eyes. It made her look effortlessly hot.
“Till, there you are!” Mizi suddenly calls, as if appearing from thin air. Till jumps and squeaks dramatically, nerves on edge. “I was looking for you!”
“H-h-hey, M-Mizi!” Till stutters and immediately looks like she wants the ground to swallow her whole. “'Sup.” She adds, doing a peace sign. Ivan barely contains her laugh.
“You were sleeping somewhere, weren’t you?” Mizi accuses, fussing over her messy bangs, but she could never get too angry at her friend.
“Um. Yeah. Sleeping.” Till says, lowering her eyes at Mizi’s disappointed look, “Sorry.”
In the background, Sua and Luka took the scene in and whispered to each other. Ivan sent them a cold grin.
They knew.
“It’s okay…” Mizi sighs, “but we have a lot of orders to make now, so hurry-hurry!”
Ivan watched her love being dragged back to work, and tries to resume her own work as well. She counts money. Thinks about Till’s butt. Recounts money. Fails. The delicacy of the dollar papers reminded her of the delicacy of Till, if that made sense. Then Hyuna leans over.
“So,” she says, “Did you ask her out yet?”
Ivan’s fingers freeze from their work. Finally, their shift was about to end so she could close the cashier. All she wanted was to go home and masturbate.
“Hm?” Ivan looks up at Hyuna’s sharp eyes. Hyuna was smart. She was someone she looked up to, the only one she trusted enough to confess she’s been thinking about asking Till out. She deeply regretted it, because Hyuna was actually supportive and tried to come up with solutions instead of just letting her drown in her yearning like she’s so used to. “Oh, no. Not yet.”
“What are you waiting for?!” Hyuna groans, because seeing Till and Ivan skirt around each other in their freak way was painful. “You should’ve seen the way she was looking at you today.”
Which way was Till looking at her today? Homicidal way? Probably. Ivan didn’t know what Hyuna was talking about. Anyway, Hyuna’s eyes didn’t reveal if she knew about what happened in the storage room or not.
“She’s gonna laugh at my face at best. It will ruin our friendship.” Ivan keeps her voice neutral, but the reminder made her throat tighten.
“You don’t know that, Ivan!” Hyuna says, smacking the counter dramatically. “Admit it. You are a coward.”
“I’m not. I just—“ Ivan was about to spit out some bullshit excuse about ’rationality and logical outcomes over feelings,’ when someone decides to intervene.
Till marches towards them carrying an empty tray and an expression that could kill Satan. Her steps had a slight wobble, Ivan noticed proudly, and her hair was still a mess.
She slams the tray on the counter and points at Ivan. Accusatory. Kinda hot.
“You.”
Ivan looks around, points at herself. “…me?”
Till’s left eye twitches. “Yes. You.”
That was the cue for Hyuna to retreat from the situation before it exploded. Mizi pulls out her phone from the other side of the room.
Till inhales, then takes a step closer. Ivan takes a step back.
“Till?” Ivan blurts, “you good?”
“NO!” Till replies, “I am not good!”
Till runs a hand through her short hair, making it somehow messier and hotter. “Listen. I have been trying to work today, but it’s literally impossible because every time I look at you I remember what w-we did in that party and then at the storage room and then I remember how you looked at me and then I—“
She stops herself, slaps both palms on the counter, and leans across it like she’s playing bad cop and is about to interrogate a suspect.
“—I want to go on a date.”
Silence.
Actual silence. Mizi even stops filming out of respect.
“What?” Ivan croaks intelligently. Hyuna facepalms.
“A date!” Till practically yells, cheeks going red again. Thankfully there were no costumers left. “Like a romantic date! With food and lights and— date stuff! Y-you know! A date-date!”
Ivan couldn’t move.
Hyuna hissed behind her: “Say something, dumbass!”
“Okay.” Is all Ivan can say, her brain a blue screen. “I— I’d really like that.”
Till’s entire posture collapses in relief. “Oh thank fuck. I… thought you hated me.”
Ivan’s jaw drops, scandalized. “Hated you?! I— Till, I thought you hated me.” With newfound bravado she surges forward and grabs Till’s hands with both of hers, thumbs brushing over the knuckles that had fisted her hair earlier. “I was actually about to invite you on a date…”
“Really?” Till asks. Hyuna coughs something that sounds like liar. “Why didn’t you, then?!”
“You beat me to it, again.” Ivan pulls her closer and gives her a sweet kiss on the lips, and Till immediately melts. Now that Till gave her the first taste, the opportunity to show what she’d been burying for years— Ivan would not take it for granted. “Saturday?”
“Saturday.” Till whispers back.
They stay like that for a while, totally unaware of their disgusted audience, looking into each other’s eyes and smiling dumbly, until Till suddenly grabs her tray again.
“N-now move, loser. We still have work to do.”
Ivan watches her march away on her puffy skirt, stumble, and furiously wipe tables with her ears and cheeks burning red, trying to act normal. She looks down at her own hands, resting on the counter. For once, her heart was not racing in fear but something else.
Something… hopeful.
As Till wipes down the tables in the emptying café, Ivan realizes simply:
I’m so fucking in love with her.