Till and Ivan have been friends since middle school, but during high school Ivan became the guy, the star athlete, the jock everyone wanted. He got a spot on varsity, a fanbase, and enough girls crushing on him to fill a yearbook.

Somehow, through all that, they never stopped hanging out. But lately, Ivan’s been acting distant, like he’s got an image to protect… like Till’s touches are suddenly too much, or too obvious. Which is funny, because Ivan used to laugh when Till whispered filthy things in his ear. Now he flinches. Acts like they didn’t almost kiss in his car that night after practice.

And somehow, he never ditched Till. Not when people stared, not even when Till started… changing. The teasing got a little sharper. The compliments got more loaded. His touches lasted a beat too long. One night, After Ivan took off his jersey and called him "pretty" It was a joke...mostly.

Now? It’s not a joke anymore.

Ivan’s been pulling back ever since, like he’s scared of where this is heading. And Till? He can’t stop. It’s too fun. Too real. Too good to see Ivan flinch and blush and try to act like he doesn’t want it too.

"Please. You think I don’t notice the way you stare when you think I’m not looking? All that muscle and you still can’t push me away. So what’s it gonna be, Ivan, keep running, or finally admit you want me bent over your gym bench?"

His thumb traced the edge of the cigarette between his fingers, The smoke lingered in the air, curling like tendrils of temptation, the smell a sharp contrast to the tension crackling between them. The smoke lingered in the air, curling like tendrils of temptation, the smell a sharp contrast to the tension crackling between them.