enjoying tiiv in a god honoring way

again, ivan is an active learner. he learnt how to talk to people by hiding behind trees, studying others' behaviors and putting the knowledge into use by starting conversations later! that's how he leaned how to smile too.

so he goes to the pharmacy, he buys lube, condoms, gloves? well, everything mentioned on the link. he trims his fingernails, he takes a bath, calls till and—he tells him to eat out because ivan's study group is going to their place.

ivan's grand idea is to train fingering himself to make sure till won't get hurt when he does it to him. it's brilliant, really. he'll be all suave and cool for till when the time comes, after three whole days of going at it, till will ask him how he's so good (he made him cum 27 times), to which ivan will puff his cigarette and say "heh. guess i've had some experience under my belt..."

it's zero. details. but anyway, moving on.

the first time he does it, it's quite painful. the second, it's clinical. the third, it's curious; he tests what is the thrill. he gets it on the fourth try, which quickly turns into his tenth.

at this point, there's no meaning for training, really.. ivan should've stopped the second he got the gist of it and called till to finally do it. so he does exactly that. ivan mans up and take till's clothes off while they're having a steamy makeout session. this is it, he thinks. it's time to prove all that effort wasn't for nothing.

till licks his lips, he unbuttons ivan's pants and—

GASP.

pause.

"uh..." till mumbles, unsure, while ivan stares with wide eyes, face pale. "i... could've swear you were hard just a second ago..." he frowns.

ivan has never been this horrified before in his life. he doesn't register till putting his clothes back on, the movie he's put on, the blankets on them. when till falls asleep, his movements are robotical as he walks to the bathroom. he takes his clothes off one by one, unnecessarily folding them to dispose on the laundry basket. he turns on the shower, and—

"haah, tiiiiiill...!" he whines wantonly, getting cum all over the wall and the floor as he fingers himself dry.

erectile dysfunction is off the table, then.

...

ivan goes to church the very next day.

"lord," he begins, hands clasped together, head tilted up. "forgive me... i've been a bad boy."

the leaves sway with the wind outside, making a wooshing sound. distantly, he thinks he hears sua's voice in his head. "you're meant to look down, high is not where you'll be going."

ivan goes home.

he collapses onto his bed, sobbing into till's clothes he grabbed from the laundry basket. "i'm broken..." he sniffs, only to cry harder because he got hard from smelling till's musk. lezhin tops are not this pathetic.

whatever! he thinks, in mania now. he's already ruined, so how about throwing caution into the wind and fucking himself one last time?!! he grabs the lube and goes at it, legs spread, tears falling, thrusting his fingers away until—

"... ivan?"

Fuck.