[ What Till has denied himself to ponder about is offered to him without a struggle. That curiosity is sated as soon as Ivan confirms he has been awake. However, it doesn't please Till to know that all this time Ivan has been feigning sleep. Meanwhile, he has never in his life pretended to follow a regular sleep schedule. It'd be impossible to hide the signs that indicate inadequate rest. In his frustration, it dawns on him that Ivan's pretense is what has allowed him to keep his hideousness hidden just a little longer.
His fears of facing Ivan's reaction are what keep his hand firmly in place even as the seconds elapse into minutes, which should assure him that Ivan won't attempt to get a glimpse of him. If he wanted, he could force a promise out of him. A promise can be disregarded and broken. ]
I guess that's true. I didn't notice yours before.
[ He should have taken note before. There have been opportunities, especially one in particular. There was that day: his birthday. However, he must also consider his state of mind at the time. His focus was entirely on— that's a good time to cut off that train of thought. There is the now to address, and in typical fashion, they both avoid voicing their desires. Instead of answering Ivan's inquiries, Till makes his own. ]
Do you want me to stay? If I try to leave, will you open your eyes?
[ Ivan was aware that his spirally fears didn't truly have a basis in reality, but that didn't stop the way they mounted the more Till spoke. Even Till did like someone else, he still spent time with him. They still ... he thought they still tolerated the time they spent together. Why was it so important that he keep his eyes closed?
How does he answer this? ]
Why don't you want me to look?
[ He didn't want him to leave. Ivan was sure of that. If Till left, it would hurt, and he wouldn't sleep because his mind would be full of things he can't ignore with expectations anymore. As for looking, If Till really didn't want him to look, he wouldn't. It was Till's own avoidance that was making Ivan curious more than any personal desires of his own. ]
When you start hiding things from me, it only makes everything worse. You should be honest.
[ He could tell him that his eyes are closed, and that he doesn't intend to look while Till is being cagey about things, but at this point maybe Till deserved a bit of worry. Ivan could also lift Till and have his way with the situation, but that sort of thing never interested him. ]
[ This is not something he should be honest about; it's an inhuman transformation that should make him even more detestable in Ivan's eyes. It would only make resentment greater. There would be regret, despite Till never imploring for salvation and Ivan forcing a choice on him. That had not been his desire. He had been willing to disappear from the world quietly, rather than continue to keep on living loudly. Now he has become a vile creature. Pulling at the ears, at the tail, it's to no avail. They are a part of him, that's been made clear. Yet, that knowledge does not do away with the temptation to yank at the appendages despite being acquainted with the pain that comes with it.
That's the only reason he tentatively draws his hand away from Ivan's eyes. It's a degree of trust he is exhibiting, vulnerability, when he knows very well that Ivan may do as he pleases. He reaches up to pull at the cat-like ears as if, at last, this will finally work and he can be free of the affliction that continues to chase him. ]
It can only be worse if you do look.
[The only apparent thing is that Till won't be leaving just yet. His weight remains on the bed, even if he is struggling to rid himself of an ear. It hurts, of course, and tears are inevitable, but it doesn't mean he gives up on the endeavor. Maybe he knows, he is aware, and this is just a means of uselessly punishing himself for being less than human. For being something awful that Ivan gave so much up for. He allowed this to befall him, to be corrupted and changed. Ivan would hate it, right? ]
[ When Till pulled his hands away, Ivan kept his eyes closed. He said he would, and so he did. It was as simple as that to him. The longer it went on, however, the less he saw the point. Till kept talking as if it was the end of the world, but Ivan couldn't even imagine something as bad as Till was making it sound. ]
... I'm going to open my eyes.
[ He warned him first, reaching out to put his arms around him. If he was going to open his eyes, the last thing he wanted was for Till to try and wiggle away or hide. Slowly, he did just that, blinking his eyes to adjust to the world around him. It didn't take long for the plain walls to sharpen, Ivan's gaze turning to Till.
What he saw was... far less a world ending situation than even he expected. Till was pulling at something on his head, but as Ivan looked the rest of him over, everything looked just fine. Moving his hand to place his fingers against Till's pulse, he waited quietly, measuring the heartbeat for only a few seconds, and then moved his hand away.
Ivan lowered his head, bending so that he could rest his forehead against whatever part of Till was the closest. He watched Till try to do battle with his offensive new appendages with a neutral expression. ]
[ Following orders obediently was not unusual. Till has been a witness to Ivan's success through good behavior. It's not something he was afforded. He always felt as if his words never got through, yet for a moment, there is a deviation from the typical pattern. No, not just this instance. He is reminded of change; only he would be disappointed to learn it's not meant to last. Ivan's warning instantly puts Till on alert and ready to vacate the bed, but before he can fling himself away, strong arms keep him in place. Curse their difference in strength, thrashing about will do nothing; instead, Till entertains the idea of sinking his teeth into Ivan's arm.
He doesn't. Which is fortunate for Ivan, sharp canines came with the rest of his physical changes. There is no other choice but to meet Ivan's gaze. Regret and shame reflect in Till's eyes. It's why he continues to fight the physical manifestation of the curse laid on him. He expects rejections, disgust for the abhorrent thing he has become; what Ivan does leaves Till surprised.
He doesn't move, his hand still crushing an ear, but he stops pulling as Ivan's fingers press against his skin. His teary eyes ask the question he doesn't voice: What are you doing? Instead of an answer, Ivan leans in closer until his forehead is pressed against Till's bare shoulder, as the oversized shirt has partially slipped while he struggled pulling at the ear. Ivan's plea is heard, but Till is not ready to heed it. It's a self-inflicted punishment for becoming this thing. ]
[ Ivan looked up at Till and how he continued to look like he was in fight or flight mode. It was a mode that Ivan noticed Till was in 60% of the time he's ever seen him. In this case, it seemed like Till disliked the strange change that took place. Ivan could imagine this had something to do with the casino. Given Till didn't seem in poor health, only poor spirits, Ivan was giving it a pass.
Did Till WANT him to say something more? The thought took a moment to occur to him, his head turning on his shoulder to peer up at Till. What was there to say? ]
They're feline parts, right? Cats and dogs are supposedly popular when it comes to roleplaying pet play.
[ Everything was a sex thing. This place just tried to make him even more of a pet than he already was. ]
Books don't usually make cats sound like good pets, so really it fits you perfectly. Violent and picky.
[ Taken aback by Ivan's blunt single word reply, Till can only stare at him incredulously. He cannot mean that. He is turning into one of those weirdo cat thing guys, and all Ivan is going to tell him is not to hurt himself? Lifting his left hand, he grabs his other ear and begins to pull. Again, this does nothing to rid him of the fluffy cat ears that share the same hue as his hair. It hurts, yes, but hiding repulsion is worse! Or is Ivan planning to mock his appearance? That's the only conclusion he can come to when Ivan's arms still trap him. He cannot escape. He should have taken his chances earlier. Perhaps at worst, only a glimpse would have been caught.
When Ivan meets his gaze, he expects to see aversion, but instead, he catches an amused expression. That smile strips at the tatters of his confidence. The explanation comes slowly, as if he is being spoon-fed a lesson. It's too familiar. He knows about felines. He knows about cats. Felines are cats; he had repeated that phrase a few times once upon a time. ]
What?
[ Obviously, someone lacks the benefit of a book stuffed with information, so while Till may have seniority over Ivan when it comes to being a resort guest, he lacks knowledge. That long-ago trip to the library Hiyori had taken him on had resulted in very little knowledge gleaned from books. Practical lessons suit him better than book knowledge. That's more of Ivan's forte. However, he does try to comprehend, he puts in effort. While he may still be pulling at his ears, it's apparent that he's thinking, and he looks unhappy with whatever conclusion he's reaching.
He, like Ivan, is very much aware of what everything leads to.
He has been a pet. He has always been a pet. And he found a meaning behind sex. An unhappy meaning. If it's not for mating, for procreation, then it's that other thing. That ugly thing. It only makes guilt heavier. He has done that thing. And he has done that thing to Ivan. He doesn't get a chance to sink further into melancholy. There it is what he expects. He is being kept here to be mocked. Before he can reconsider, his hand falls away from an ear and latches onto Ivan's shiny and very healthy hair. ]
[ He was partially right. If Till was mad at him, he wasn't trying to hurt himself. His hair was being held, and all Ivan could do was laugh, keeping his arms around Till. It was better this way. If there was a way to make Till stop hating himself, he'd do it, even if he wasn't very good at it. ]
I thought you'd be happy to hear something like that. Is there something you're not telling me about your feelings?
[ The feelings in question were the ones on being a pet. Till never seemed to like the situation with the segyein. Till was the most violent and disobedient pet he had ever known, and Ivan loved the fire in him. Being told he was a terrible, but popular pet honestly shouldn't be too different from normal.
If there were other feelings Till wasn't telling him, that really wasn't any of his business yet. ]
I think they're cute? Cute is good, right? It's supposed to be special when a cat chooses someone to love and show affection to, and people treasure that experience. Really, it does sound just like you.
[ His fingers remain tangled through shiny black locks, but after the initial tug, he releases some tension until the strands of ink-dark hair fall away from his hurtful hand. Neither confirmation nor denial, instead, he gets a smile for an answer. A smile that feels like it continues to ridicule him. It's rightly deserved. His gaze drops onto his lap as his tail continues to switch back and forth. His abused ears lay flat on his head in dejection. ]
What feelings? About this?
[ His loathing for the transformation is obvious. How much clearer can he make it? He hates that he feels less than human, less than what he was. And he wasn't much to begin with. He only serves one purpose. There is only one reason he is alive. He loves music, he loves singing, and he can only live because of it. What other purpose does he have?
Any pet human could serve to do everything else that was forced upon him.
Ivan's following words are met with disbelief. He must have misheard. He could easily chalk that up to a hallucination, but no strange medicines have been injected into him. Those things have long left his system, and he knows he hasn't eaten anything suspicious lately. It still causes him to pause, to hesitate before sliding his hand toward Ivan's forehead. ]
You mean that you think real cats are cute.
[ And not him, the him that is a fake cat thing creature. ] And this is disgusting.
No, I think you're cute. I've never met a real cat.
[ Bold? Fairly. It was far bolder than Ivan usually was. Although the was almost always truthful with Till, it rarely involved saying something so adjacent to his feelings for the man in his arms. And truly, if he was being honest with himself, the hair pulling was not a dealbreaker in all of this sudden turmoil. How was he supposed to feel when Till was here in his bed, in his shirt, with cat ears and a tail? It was already taking every ounce of restraint he had to not start kissing Tills shoulder. This place just didn't play fair.
The deck was stacked against him, and all Ivan could do was his best not to make a fool of himself. Again. ]
I don't see what's disgusting about it. If you really don't like it, I'm sure we can figure something out to do about it, or you can stay inside, and I'll be the one to go and get food or anything else you need while it's happening.
I've never met a real cat either. I've only met fake cats.
[ The disappointment in his tone is obvious. Fake cats do not equal the real deal, especially when they are large or annoying. Or both. He may have been a guest longer than Ivan, long enough to end up with a curse, but he has not explored everything the resort has to offer. His mind has been set on locating the Mew-sic Cafe, but with little success. Even Hiyori suggested the place to him. He is beginning to suspect that the Mew-sic Cafe is not real at all and that he has been on a wild goose chase. His ears flatten further with discontent. He doesn't entertain the idea of asking Ivan to look for it together.
If it turns out that the Mew-sic Cafe isn't real, then he would truly be a fool for continuing his search, and Ivan doesn't need to know just how dumb he can be. Or maybe he knows? Feeling for Ivan's temperature, or rather lack of a fever, makes it evident that he is idiotically seeking a reason behind Ivan's words other than a spoken truth. Lowering his hands to his bare thighs, his gaze drops. ]
I've been ignoring it. I didn't think it would happen today.
It goes away after a while. I feel it makes me different.
[ By that he means worse.
He ends up slowly nodding as Ivan makes his suggestion, and immediately, he thinks himself greedy for easily agreeing to allow Ivan to take care of him. To become a burden on him. Even in death, Till cannot let him rest. Ivan here, whatever he is doing, for whatever reason, it makes his mood rise and drop, and it feels like it starts all over again. An endless cycle. Even when Ivan goes as far as to call him— ]
Did you say I'm cute? [ It's weird how his mind had been slow to pick up on that. Too busy tearing himself apart, and now he is overwhelmed by embarrassment. He isn't cute. What is Ivan even on? ]
[ Ivan stared at him, blinking slowly a few times. ]
It really is unknown till the end...
[ If he was conscious of having said it out loud was anyone's guess as he took a breath and moved on, placing his weight back on Till's shoulder. Taking everything Till said, Ivan could figure out that this affliction must have started before he arrived. He thinks it would have been harder for Till to hide before now given they rarely spent time apart.
Nodding back to Till's nod, he decided to take on the task of taking care of Cat-Till when it happened. Maybe time would make the transformation easier on Till if they couldn't find a way to stop it. All Ivan could do was find a way to support him for the time being. ]
Yes, I said that. You're cute, and this makes you even more cute. Are you going to lay down or are you still going to try and leave?
[ There is meaning behind that phrase. A meaning he alone knows and has made his own. And a meaning warped by the segyein in their lack of comprehension. He assumes that when Ivan speaks those words, he has come to find a meaning of his own. Biting his lower lip, Till considers asking, but prodding too deeply leads to arguments, and they had just been on the verge of one. Perhaps another time. Instead, he focuses on the feeling of Ivan's weight against him. And. Ivan is kind of heavy. His tail flicks about back and forth, more honest than he is in the small amount of tolerance he is granting.
How could he not aim for patience? It's something like reciprocation. Ivan aids him, and he has nothing to offer beyond those first few days when he shared half his food vouchers. Ivan has done well, as far as Till is aware. It's not something that strikes a happy note within him. But it's also a truth he has always known. Within the resort, the talent that's kept him alive is entirely useless; that other thing, it feels bad inside. It's dirty? Experience leads him to that connotation. It's supposed to be disgusting.
Ivan can call him whatever he wants. He can say he is cute a thousand times and more, but it doesn't erase all of that. Now he has a choice, but isn't it the same in the end? ]
I don't think I am that.
I'll stay. [ He had been crying before, overwhelmed by the idea of being discovered and his desperation to maintain this secret. Now he continues to shed tears due to a deteriorating self-image. ]
[ Ivan had to wonder if anything he said mattered. Does Till take the things he says into account as his opinion of Till or does it all reflect and distort in some fashion. Will Till ever truly see him, or did his final goodbye so insignificant that if he didn't even think about it. If Ivan kept thinking, it would only send him round and round in unproductive defeatist thoughts. He already did what he could for Till. ]
I do think it.
[ If Till was going to stay, then that was all that mattered. His arms remained around him for a moment more, and then he drew away. Ivan moved and repositioned himself while continuing to face Till, attempting to get more comfortable while laying on his side. If Till was going to escape, Ivan would let him, his dark eyes focused on Till and the way he looked in his shirt. If things weren't so tense, his hands would probably be all over him.
This was his fate, though. ]
How do they feel to touch? Can you feel it when someone touches them?
[ Ivan disputes Till's belief, and at this point, they can argue back and forth about his supposed endearing appearance. Or lack of. Neither of them would win the argument, but inevitably, they would both come out as losers when that conversation devolved into a typical squabble. It's late. He knows it is. It's reaching close to the point when exhaustion defeats insomnia, and he passes out from exhaustion. Now, he is only fueled by passing anxiety, and he will likely crash hard. At least, he is well acquainted with his physical self if he can predict that much.
Released from Ivan's grip, he is free to do as he wishes. He can flee, he can stay, but ultimately, he doesn't even spare the door a passing glance. He already said he would stay, and nothing is making Till feel the need to reconsider his choice. His eyes remain on Ivan, observing as his former classmate turned something, gets comfortable. He doesn't do the same and remains sitting upright as his tail lazily swishes back and forth.
He tries lifting the shirt back onto his shoulder, the shoulder Ivan had been leaning against, but all it causes is for it to dip down lower on his chest. He can fuss over it, or he can ignore it. He chooses the latter in the face of Ivan's questioning. That's not something he put thought into. Raising a hand, he tugs at a tender ear. ]
They're hairy? And I feel it when I do this.
[ Another tug follows to indicate what he means.
Ivan told him to stop previously, and coupled with pain, Till relents. He will put an end to the ear abuse, for now anyway. His focus on Ivan, his obvious interest, prompts a long-suffering sigh. He knows where this line of questioning is leading. Lowering himself onto the bed, so that he is on his side facing Ivan, he tilts his head so that his chin points at his chest, giving Ivan access to his ears. ]
[ He wasn't going to really ask, so when Till repositions himself to bend his head toward him, Ivan beams. He didn't even have to get to the messy part of trying to convince Till to let him do something. Not wanting to waste the opportunity, he reached his hand up to rest atop Till's head. Petting his hair and soothing it down after all of Till's earlier frantic pulling, Ivan's thumb settles against the thin, furry cartilage.
The touch was small at first and grew into his hand curling along the back of an ear while his fingers marveled in how satisfying it was to touch them. It was a nice feeling against his skin, but he looked down every so often to make sure Till wasn't making a weird face. Getting swiped at or bitten because he did something wrong would be a weird situation to explain to someone else. ]
It's a weird feeling, but nice. I can see why humans would have liked to pet something that feels like it.
[ He could also imagine the sensation being completely different when it was a being with that feeling all over. ]
[ Ivan's initial line of question was indicative of interest and inevitably a request to touch the ears. They're shameful, and Till remains uncomfortable. However, if Ivan isn't repulsed by his appearance, then he can be a little more accepting of his current form. It would take more time for Till to come to terms with the fact that he grows cat ears and a tail; there is solace in the fact that it is only one night out of the month. And since it only happens one night, this isn't a question of a supposed future maybe, and instead, he lets Ivan have at it. It's not a big deal. Other than that, he is starting to suspect Ivan may be stranger than what he initially assumed.
Then comes a thought. Is Ivan's interest sparked by a desire to pet a cat? A real-life cat? Or would he want to pet a cat-like person? There are at least two of those residing at the resort. Would his curiosity have extended to them, too? In that case, what does this mean? If he satisfies that fascination, would it mean Ivan would not pet those other guys?
He can continue mulling over his suspicions, trying to figure this out, or he can stay in this moment.
Till would choose the former, his sensitive and hurt ears guide him toward the latter option. Pats on the head were strange; his expression may indicate discomfit, but the moment Ivan's hands are on his ears, his expression softens. It's a soothing sensation, his eyes close slowly as he leans in closer toward Ivan, and he even reaches out to hold him by the front of his shirt. Whatever Ivan was saying barely registers as he tries to rub his face against Ivan's hand. Like a cat showing comfort and trust, he ends up on his back, with his belly exposed as Ivan's shirt rides up on him. ]
[ Ivan would have been content with cuddling and petting Till. It was soothing to lay together in one another's company. If there was a way to comfort him and make him believe that the ears and tail didn't make him look worse, he would say it, but nothing came to mind while his fingers rubbed at the tips of his ears. Till's expression was somewhat complicated, but it didn't look like he was going to do anything violent.
His hands only slow when he sees Till start to move, first closer and then shifting to his back. It was fascinating to watch the way the strange curse effected Till. The mannerisms were not like him at all. At first, it was a bit unsettling, Ivan wondering to himself if the casino could do worse on a whim. After more thought, he let that concern go away to find him later.
The more Till moved, the more Ivan could feel that familiar warmth in his lower gut. His eyes couldn't help scanning down his body and sucking in a breath. They had slept like this often enough. It wasn't strange to see Till in this state of dress. There was just something more in the way Ivan could see so much exposed skin while Till was rubbing against him that made him want to feel more of him.
Fighting off that urge, his hand descends to pet Till's face and let him rub into his palm. Ivan kept his silence, his eyes as locked on Till as his thoughts were. ]
[ Loathing for the segyein bleeds into anything Till deems inhuman, and even humans he finds difficult (some even annoying). However, his distress isn't solely attributed to his hatred of those aliens; there were already underlying doubts and a feeling of dislike for the self he already was. This only makes it worse. He cannot be sure what Ivan is thinking, why he settled on the word 'cute' when describing him as he is now. There is also the matter of what Ivan desired—cat or cat people. He could be out there petting any of those.
Worry is there. It's melting away under Ivan's touch. He doesn't expect gentleness, not from someone who more often than not says something that hurts and wounds him anew. Most of the time, contact means retaliation against Till initiating a fight.
Although that's no longer true.
This gentle touch is one he has experienced before. Rare moments as they were, and there is that one time he needs to forget. He should. He cannot. A sudden instance of affection that left him baffled as the hand cupping his face bade for his attention. And! Now they are here. When was the last time he slept in his room rather than coming to knock on Ivan's door and ending up on his bed? More often than not, with his arms around Ivan, urging him to hold him close and not let go. Isn't it very selfish? Even now, as he grows accustomed to the touch, as he eases into Ivan petting his ears, he wants more.
It's his ears that give him a pleasant sensation. The rest of his actions are chasing that feeling. And maybe on his back, with Ivan's hand on his face, does that realization hit him. He doesn't stop Ivan; he doesn't plan to push him away immediately.
His flushed face and teary-eyed look is what Ivan will get as Till begins to speak, as if finding his voice again rather than being lost to a cat's simpler nature and content. ]
Maybe that's enough.
[ Maybe. He says maybe. He doesn't say it is definite. ]
[ At first, he didn't plan to oblige. Till's body was on display in front of him, covered mostly in his own pajama top. Ivan's bigger build meant it practically swallowed him, and the places where it rode up were even more tantalizing because the whole display make it feel like Till was his. It was a moment where he could feel like he could receive the most coveted thing Till could offer.
And yet, it was that thought and the pinpricks of tears in Till's eyes that brought Ivan's hands to a stand still. Till wasn't putting a lot of effort into stopping him. He could get away with continuing for a bit longer if he wanted to truly see what he could do. Ivan couldn't do that. Till was already unhappy with this situation and if he pushed, he could be rejected. It was impossible to tell what was going through his head.
He hesitated, his hands resting where they stopped, and then dragged away from him slowly. His gaze doesn't leave Till's face, even as his hands come to rest between them once again. He wanted more. Ivan wanted to much more that it could burst from that cold, dark place he stuffed all of his feelings. Instead, he remains quiet, watching Till and what he was going to do now. ]
[ Till remains still as Ivan's hands linger. Despite his mild protest, he does nothing to escape the touch. If Ivan had taken that risk, he would not have rejected him, although he would have questioned the fascination with his current form. While not entirely a cat, he has enough cat-like traits that Till has to ponder if this is something normal. Or maybe he doesn't have to consider anything. Ivan may have the same curiosity and fascination with the idea of petting a normal cat, much like him. This may be his only option as of now.
Once Ivan's hands pull away, Till raises his to his face to absentmindedly wipe away tears. He must look ridiculous now. Crying over—it's nothing. Biting his lower lip, he hesitates before turning his head to the side to look at Ivan. A simple question could answer all his doubts and alleviate his curiosity. What was it that Ivan wanted from him? Would he have continued petting him if he had not said that was enough?
Instead of getting an answer to what he wants most, he recalls a question on a list from the speed-dating event on the boat. ]
Are you a dog or cat person?
[ Maybe he should have shut up and stayed quiet. He should have let whatever that moment was pass. ]
[ Ivan spent a number of moments puzzled over the expression Till gave him before the question. Had Ivan done something wrong, or was it something else about the situation that bothered Till? Would he possibly run because he was overwhelmed? No movement was made to escape and Ivan unconsciously relaxed.
The question didn't improve his confusion.
His brows furrowed as he tried to imagine what he meant by this question. Did he wonder if Ivan liked dogs or cats more? He had never met either creature in person before, but he's read about them in various stories and texts. Was it more of a meaning of would Ivan fit having a personality like one or the other more? Did Till really wonder these things, or did he wonder what sort of curse Ivan would get? ]
My personality is probably more dog-like, but think I would like cats more.
[ Ivan's eyes lowered, looking Till over again as he thought more on it. ]
Yeah, I think cats would be good. Where did you get a question like that?
[ Ivan's expression leads Till to surmise his question is stupid, especially when considering he had been unable to answer it himself. It was an idiotic choice as an opening toward a conversation. While their situations may not have been entirely similar due to a difference in guardians, he doubts that Ivan has encountered a dog. For sure, a cat hasn't been in the picture. Then it may be true that the only animal they have come in contact with is the robotic fish in Anakt Garden's artificial stream. This is embarrassing, while his cheeks gain a rosy tint, his ears flatten with self-doubt.
Before he can retract his question or change the subject, Ivan gives him an answer. Not in the way he has come to understand the question, but it is an answer nonetheless, and there must be some effort behind it. However, in all honesty, he does not understand how Ivan's personality is akin to a dog's, nor whether he is anything like a cat. ]
Are dogs annoying and strange? [ Since cats are supposedly violent and picky. And he has been told that he is similar to one, and he is assuming that has nothing to do with his physical changes. Come to think of it, could that be the reason he ended up like this? ] Are my eyes like a cat's?
[ Ivan stating he would like a cat more, has Till regress back to the loop he had been previously stuck in. Would Ivan want to pet a cat or a cat person? Would he be petting someone else if given the opportunity? Would he prefer it? Someone less like him? But if cats are, as Ivan says, then that means— ]
Huh. That. On the boat. I went to something called speed dating, and because I've never done it before, they gave me a list of questions to ask. That was on there.
[ Ivan laughed quietly. He supposes those defining characteristics aren't wrong. If that's what Till thought of him, he couldn't really fight it. He did wonder what parts of him were strange, though. What did he do that was strange in Till's eyes? The question at the end was not what he expected. Looking into Till's eyes, he reached across to faintly touch his cheek. ]
They might be. I don't remember what their eyes were supposed to look like.
[ Recalling the speed dating event on the cruise didn't fill him with happy memories. He never interacted with it directly, but he knew what it was for. Till had gone to it and Ivan never knew. How many people did he date? Did he find someone to touch there? It wasn't something that was to Ivan's tastes. He wasn't one for complicating matters that didn't require it. ]
Did you date anyone fun? It was supposed to find you a lover, right?
[ This circles back to his desire to see a cat, perhaps not so much to touch one now due to his condition. His attempts to locate that one particular cafe that caters to cat lovers have failed. He considers renewing his efforts, at least, to find an answer to his questions. Leaning into the touch, Till doesn't hesitate to give the reason behind his inquiry. ]
Someone keeps calling me 'cat eyes.'
[ Although once the words leave his mouth, he considers all he said as unnecessary, bordering on embarrassing. It's like when he asked about his age versus his appearance all over again. And so once the change of subject comes up, he is content to snap up a reason to divert conversation until he realizes what's being implied. Frowning and averting his gaze makes him look guilty; however, he has no clue what he should be feeling bad about.
He didn't even do anything! ]
I don't know what dating is. And I was not looking for a lover.
[ Lover in the context of his limited understanding and him sticking to the definition he provided Ivan: lovers love things and make their lips touch. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
His fears of facing Ivan's reaction are what keep his hand firmly in place even as the seconds elapse into minutes, which should assure him that Ivan won't attempt to get a glimpse of him. If he wanted, he could force a promise out of him. A promise can be disregarded and broken. ]
I guess that's true. I didn't notice yours before.
[ He should have taken note before. There have been opportunities, especially one in particular. There was that day: his birthday. However, he must also consider his state of mind at the time. His focus was entirely on— that's a good time to cut off that train of thought. There is the now to address, and in typical fashion, they both avoid voicing their desires. Instead of answering Ivan's inquiries, Till makes his own. ]
Do you want me to stay? If I try to leave, will you open your eyes?
no subject
How does he answer this? ]
Why don't you want me to look?
[ He didn't want him to leave. Ivan was sure of that. If Till left, it would hurt, and he wouldn't sleep because his mind would be full of things he can't ignore with expectations anymore. As for looking, If Till really didn't want him to look, he wouldn't. It was Till's own avoidance that was making Ivan curious more than any personal desires of his own. ]
When you start hiding things from me, it only makes everything worse. You should be honest.
[ He could tell him that his eyes are closed, and that he doesn't intend to look while Till is being cagey about things, but at this point maybe Till deserved a bit of worry. Ivan could also lift Till and have his way with the situation, but that sort of thing never interested him. ]
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[ This is not something he should be honest about; it's an inhuman transformation that should make him even more detestable in Ivan's eyes. It would only make resentment greater. There would be regret, despite Till never imploring for salvation and Ivan forcing a choice on him. That had not been his desire. He had been willing to disappear from the world quietly, rather than continue to keep on living loudly. Now he has become a vile creature. Pulling at the ears, at the tail, it's to no avail. They are a part of him, that's been made clear. Yet, that knowledge does not do away with the temptation to yank at the appendages despite being acquainted with the pain that comes with it.
That's the only reason he tentatively draws his hand away from Ivan's eyes. It's a degree of trust he is exhibiting, vulnerability, when he knows very well that Ivan may do as he pleases. He reaches up to pull at the cat-like ears as if, at last, this will finally work and he can be free of the affliction that continues to chase him. ]
It can only be worse if you do look.
[The only apparent thing is that Till won't be leaving just yet. His weight remains on the bed, even if he is struggling to rid himself of an ear. It hurts, of course, and tears are inevitable, but it doesn't mean he gives up on the endeavor. Maybe he knows, he is aware, and this is just a means of uselessly punishing himself for being less than human. For being something awful that Ivan gave so much up for. He allowed this to befall him, to be corrupted and changed. Ivan would hate it, right? ]
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... I'm going to open my eyes.
[ He warned him first, reaching out to put his arms around him. If he was going to open his eyes, the last thing he wanted was for Till to try and wiggle away or hide. Slowly, he did just that, blinking his eyes to adjust to the world around him. It didn't take long for the plain walls to sharpen, Ivan's gaze turning to Till.
What he saw was... far less a world ending situation than even he expected. Till was pulling at something on his head, but as Ivan looked the rest of him over, everything looked just fine. Moving his hand to place his fingers against Till's pulse, he waited quietly, measuring the heartbeat for only a few seconds, and then moved his hand away.
Ivan lowered his head, bending so that he could rest his forehead against whatever part of Till was the closest. He watched Till try to do battle with his offensive new appendages with a neutral expression. ]
Don't hurt yourself.
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He doesn't. Which is fortunate for Ivan, sharp canines came with the rest of his physical changes. There is no other choice but to meet Ivan's gaze. Regret and shame reflect in Till's eyes. It's why he continues to fight the physical manifestation of the curse laid on him. He expects rejections, disgust for the abhorrent thing he has become; what Ivan does leaves Till surprised.
He doesn't move, his hand still crushing an ear, but he stops pulling as Ivan's fingers press against his skin. His teary eyes ask the question he doesn't voice: What are you doing? Instead of an answer, Ivan leans in closer until his forehead is pressed against Till's bare shoulder, as the oversized shirt has partially slipped while he struggled pulling at the ear. Ivan's plea is heard, but Till is not ready to heed it. It's a self-inflicted punishment for becoming this thing. ]
What? That's all you're going to say?
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[ Ivan looked up at Till and how he continued to look like he was in fight or flight mode. It was a mode that Ivan noticed Till was in 60% of the time he's ever seen him. In this case, it seemed like Till disliked the strange change that took place. Ivan could imagine this had something to do with the casino. Given Till didn't seem in poor health, only poor spirits, Ivan was giving it a pass.
Did Till WANT him to say something more? The thought took a moment to occur to him, his head turning on his shoulder to peer up at Till. What was there to say? ]
They're feline parts, right? Cats and dogs are supposedly popular when it comes to roleplaying pet play.
[ Everything was a sex thing. This place just tried to make him even more of a pet than he already was. ]
Books don't usually make cats sound like good pets, so really it fits you perfectly. Violent and picky.
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When Ivan meets his gaze, he expects to see aversion, but instead, he catches an amused expression. That smile strips at the tatters of his confidence. The explanation comes slowly, as if he is being spoon-fed a lesson. It's too familiar. He knows about felines. He knows about cats. Felines are cats; he had repeated that phrase a few times once upon a time. ]
What?
[ Obviously, someone lacks the benefit of a book stuffed with information, so while Till may have seniority over Ivan when it comes to being a resort guest, he lacks knowledge. That long-ago trip to the library Hiyori had taken him on had resulted in very little knowledge gleaned from books. Practical lessons suit him better than book knowledge. That's more of Ivan's forte. However, he does try to comprehend, he puts in effort. While he may still be pulling at his ears, it's apparent that he's thinking, and he looks unhappy with whatever conclusion he's reaching.
He, like Ivan, is very much aware of what everything leads to.
He has been a pet. He has always been a pet. And he found a meaning behind sex. An unhappy meaning. If it's not for mating, for procreation, then it's that other thing. That ugly thing. It only makes guilt heavier. He has done that thing. And he has done that thing to Ivan. He doesn't get a chance to sink further into melancholy. There it is what he expects. He is being kept here to be mocked. Before he can reconsider, his hand falls away from an ear and latches onto Ivan's shiny and very healthy hair. ]
Now you're trying to pick a fight!
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I thought you'd be happy to hear something like that. Is there something you're not telling me about your feelings?
[ The feelings in question were the ones on being a pet. Till never seemed to like the situation with the segyein. Till was the most violent and disobedient pet he had ever known, and Ivan loved the fire in him. Being told he was a terrible, but popular pet honestly shouldn't be too different from normal.
If there were other feelings Till wasn't telling him, that really wasn't any of his business yet. ]
I think they're cute? Cute is good, right? It's supposed to be special when a cat chooses someone to love and show affection to, and people treasure that experience. Really, it does sound just like you.
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What feelings? About this?
[ His loathing for the transformation is obvious. How much clearer can he make it? He hates that he feels less than human, less than what he was. And he wasn't much to begin with. He only serves one purpose. There is only one reason he is alive. He loves music, he loves singing, and he can only live because of it. What other purpose does he have?
Any pet human could serve to do everything else that was forced upon him.
Ivan's following words are met with disbelief. He must have misheard. He could easily chalk that up to a hallucination, but no strange medicines have been injected into him. Those things have long left his system, and he knows he hasn't eaten anything suspicious lately. It still causes him to pause, to hesitate before sliding his hand toward Ivan's forehead. ]
You mean that you think real cats are cute.
[ And not him, the him that is a fake cat thing creature. ] And this is disgusting.
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[ Bold? Fairly. It was far bolder than Ivan usually was. Although the was almost always truthful with Till, it rarely involved saying something so adjacent to his feelings for the man in his arms. And truly, if he was being honest with himself, the hair pulling was not a dealbreaker in all of this sudden turmoil. How was he supposed to feel when Till was here in his bed, in his shirt, with cat ears and a tail? It was already taking every ounce of restraint he had to not start kissing Tills shoulder. This place just didn't play fair.
The deck was stacked against him, and all Ivan could do was his best not to make a fool of himself. Again. ]
I don't see what's disgusting about it. If you really don't like it, I'm sure we can figure something out to do about it, or you can stay inside, and I'll be the one to go and get food or anything else you need while it's happening.
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[ The disappointment in his tone is obvious. Fake cats do not equal the real deal, especially when they are large or annoying. Or both. He may have been a guest longer than Ivan, long enough to end up with a curse, but he has not explored everything the resort has to offer. His mind has been set on locating the Mew-sic Cafe, but with little success. Even Hiyori suggested the place to him. He is beginning to suspect that the Mew-sic Cafe is not real at all and that he has been on a wild goose chase. His ears flatten further with discontent. He doesn't entertain the idea of asking Ivan to look for it together.
If it turns out that the Mew-sic Cafe isn't real, then he would truly be a fool for continuing his search, and Ivan doesn't need to know just how dumb he can be. Or maybe he knows? Feeling for Ivan's temperature, or rather lack of a fever, makes it evident that he is idiotically seeking a reason behind Ivan's words other than a spoken truth. Lowering his hands to his bare thighs, his gaze drops. ]
I've been ignoring it. I didn't think it would happen today.
It goes away after a while. I feel it makes me different.
[ By that he means worse.
He ends up slowly nodding as Ivan makes his suggestion, and immediately, he thinks himself greedy for easily agreeing to allow Ivan to take care of him. To become a burden on him. Even in death, Till cannot let him rest. Ivan here, whatever he is doing, for whatever reason, it makes his mood rise and drop, and it feels like it starts all over again. An endless cycle. Even when Ivan goes as far as to call him— ]
Did you say I'm cute? [ It's weird how his mind had been slow to pick up on that. Too busy tearing himself apart, and now he is overwhelmed by embarrassment. He isn't cute. What is Ivan even on? ]
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It really is unknown till the end...
[ If he was conscious of having said it out loud was anyone's guess as he took a breath and moved on, placing his weight back on Till's shoulder. Taking everything Till said, Ivan could figure out that this affliction must have started before he arrived. He thinks it would have been harder for Till to hide before now given they rarely spent time apart.
Nodding back to Till's nod, he decided to take on the task of taking care of Cat-Till when it happened. Maybe time would make the transformation easier on Till if they couldn't find a way to stop it. All Ivan could do was find a way to support him for the time being. ]
Yes, I said that. You're cute, and this makes you even more cute. Are you going to lay down or are you still going to try and leave?
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How could he not aim for patience? It's something like reciprocation. Ivan aids him, and he has nothing to offer beyond those first few days when he shared half his food vouchers. Ivan has done well, as far as Till is aware. It's not something that strikes a happy note within him. But it's also a truth he has always known. Within the resort, the talent that's kept him alive is entirely useless; that other thing, it feels bad inside. It's dirty? Experience leads him to that connotation. It's supposed to be disgusting.
Ivan can call him whatever he wants. He can say he is cute a thousand times and more, but it doesn't erase all of that. Now he has a choice, but isn't it the same in the end? ]
I don't think I am that.
I'll stay. [ He had been crying before, overwhelmed by the idea of being discovered and his desperation to maintain this secret. Now he continues to shed tears due to a deteriorating self-image. ]
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I do think it.
[ If Till was going to stay, then that was all that mattered. His arms remained around him for a moment more, and then he drew away. Ivan moved and repositioned himself while continuing to face Till, attempting to get more comfortable while laying on his side. If Till was going to escape, Ivan would let him, his dark eyes focused on Till and the way he looked in his shirt. If things weren't so tense, his hands would probably be all over him.
This was his fate, though. ]
How do they feel to touch? Can you feel it when someone touches them?
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Released from Ivan's grip, he is free to do as he wishes. He can flee, he can stay, but ultimately, he doesn't even spare the door a passing glance. He already said he would stay, and nothing is making Till feel the need to reconsider his choice. His eyes remain on Ivan, observing as his former classmate turned something, gets comfortable. He doesn't do the same and remains sitting upright as his tail lazily swishes back and forth.
He tries lifting the shirt back onto his shoulder, the shoulder Ivan had been leaning against, but all it causes is for it to dip down lower on his chest. He can fuss over it, or he can ignore it. He chooses the latter in the face of Ivan's questioning. That's not something he put thought into. Raising a hand, he tugs at a tender ear. ]
They're hairy? And I feel it when I do this.
[ Another tug follows to indicate what he means.
Ivan told him to stop previously, and coupled with pain, Till relents. He will put an end to the ear abuse, for now anyway. His focus on Ivan, his obvious interest, prompts a long-suffering sigh. He knows where this line of questioning is leading. Lowering himself onto the bed, so that he is on his side facing Ivan, he tilts his head so that his chin points at his chest, giving Ivan access to his ears. ]
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The touch was small at first and grew into his hand curling along the back of an ear while his fingers marveled in how satisfying it was to touch them. It was a nice feeling against his skin, but he looked down every so often to make sure Till wasn't making a weird face. Getting swiped at or bitten because he did something wrong would be a weird situation to explain to someone else. ]
It's a weird feeling, but nice. I can see why humans would have liked to pet something that feels like it.
[ He could also imagine the sensation being completely different when it was a being with that feeling all over. ]
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Then comes a thought. Is Ivan's interest sparked by a desire to pet a cat? A real-life cat? Or would he want to pet a cat-like person? There are at least two of those residing at the resort. Would his curiosity have extended to them, too? In that case, what does this mean? If he satisfies that fascination, would it mean Ivan would not pet those other guys?
He can continue mulling over his suspicions, trying to figure this out, or he can stay in this moment.
Till would choose the former, his sensitive and hurt ears guide him toward the latter option. Pats on the head were strange; his expression may indicate discomfit, but the moment Ivan's hands are on his ears, his expression softens. It's a soothing sensation, his eyes close slowly as he leans in closer toward Ivan, and he even reaches out to hold him by the front of his shirt. Whatever Ivan was saying barely registers as he tries to rub his face against Ivan's hand. Like a cat showing comfort and trust, he ends up on his back, with his belly exposed as Ivan's shirt rides up on him. ]
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His hands only slow when he sees Till start to move, first closer and then shifting to his back. It was fascinating to watch the way the strange curse effected Till. The mannerisms were not like him at all. At first, it was a bit unsettling, Ivan wondering to himself if the casino could do worse on a whim. After more thought, he let that concern go away to find him later.
The more Till moved, the more Ivan could feel that familiar warmth in his lower gut. His eyes couldn't help scanning down his body and sucking in a breath. They had slept like this often enough. It wasn't strange to see Till in this state of dress. There was just something more in the way Ivan could see so much exposed skin while Till was rubbing against him that made him want to feel more of him.
Fighting off that urge, his hand descends to pet Till's face and let him rub into his palm. Ivan kept his silence, his eyes as locked on Till as his thoughts were. ]
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Worry is there. It's melting away under Ivan's touch. He doesn't expect gentleness, not from someone who more often than not says something that hurts and wounds him anew. Most of the time, contact means retaliation against Till initiating a fight.
Although that's no longer true.
This gentle touch is one he has experienced before. Rare moments as they were, and there is that one time he needs to forget. He should. He cannot. A sudden instance of affection that left him baffled as the hand cupping his face bade for his attention. And! Now they are here. When was the last time he slept in his room rather than coming to knock on Ivan's door and ending up on his bed? More often than not, with his arms around Ivan, urging him to hold him close and not let go. Isn't it very selfish? Even now, as he grows accustomed to the touch, as he eases into Ivan petting his ears, he wants more.
It's his ears that give him a pleasant sensation. The rest of his actions are chasing that feeling. And maybe on his back, with Ivan's hand on his face, does that realization hit him. He doesn't stop Ivan; he doesn't plan to push him away immediately.
His flushed face and teary-eyed look is what Ivan will get as Till begins to speak, as if finding his voice again rather than being lost to a cat's simpler nature and content. ]
Maybe that's enough.
[ Maybe. He says maybe. He doesn't say it is definite. ]
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And yet, it was that thought and the pinpricks of tears in Till's eyes that brought Ivan's hands to a stand still. Till wasn't putting a lot of effort into stopping him. He could get away with continuing for a bit longer if he wanted to truly see what he could do. Ivan couldn't do that. Till was already unhappy with this situation and if he pushed, he could be rejected. It was impossible to tell what was going through his head.
He hesitated, his hands resting where they stopped, and then dragged away from him slowly. His gaze doesn't leave Till's face, even as his hands come to rest between them once again. He wanted more. Ivan wanted to much more that it could burst from that cold, dark place he stuffed all of his feelings. Instead, he remains quiet, watching Till and what he was going to do now. ]
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Once Ivan's hands pull away, Till raises his to his face to absentmindedly wipe away tears. He must look ridiculous now. Crying over—it's nothing. Biting his lower lip, he hesitates before turning his head to the side to look at Ivan. A simple question could answer all his doubts and alleviate his curiosity. What was it that Ivan wanted from him? Would he have continued petting him if he had not said that was enough?
Instead of getting an answer to what he wants most, he recalls a question on a list from the speed-dating event on the boat. ]
Are you a dog or cat person?
[ Maybe he should have shut up and stayed quiet. He should have let whatever that moment was pass. ]
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The question didn't improve his confusion.
His brows furrowed as he tried to imagine what he meant by this question. Did he wonder if Ivan liked dogs or cats more? He had never met either creature in person before, but he's read about them in various stories and texts. Was it more of a meaning of would Ivan fit having a personality like one or the other more? Did Till really wonder these things, or did he wonder what sort of curse Ivan would get? ]
My personality is probably more dog-like, but think I would like cats more.
[ Ivan's eyes lowered, looking Till over again as he thought more on it. ]
Yeah, I think cats would be good. Where did you get a question like that?
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Before he can retract his question or change the subject, Ivan gives him an answer. Not in the way he has come to understand the question, but it is an answer nonetheless, and there must be some effort behind it. However, in all honesty, he does not understand how Ivan's personality is akin to a dog's, nor whether he is anything like a cat. ]
Are dogs annoying and strange? [ Since cats are supposedly violent and picky. And he has been told that he is similar to one, and he is assuming that has nothing to do with his physical changes. Come to think of it, could that be the reason he ended up like this? ] Are my eyes like a cat's?
[ Ivan stating he would like a cat more, has Till regress back to the loop he had been previously stuck in. Would Ivan want to pet a cat or a cat person? Would he be petting someone else if given the opportunity? Would he prefer it? Someone less like him? But if cats are, as Ivan says, then that means— ]
Huh. That. On the boat. I went to something called speed dating, and because I've never done it before, they gave me a list of questions to ask. That was on there.
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They might be. I don't remember what their eyes were supposed to look like.
[ Recalling the speed dating event on the cruise didn't fill him with happy memories. He never interacted with it directly, but he knew what it was for. Till had gone to it and Ivan never knew. How many people did he date? Did he find someone to touch there? It wasn't something that was to Ivan's tastes. He wasn't one for complicating matters that didn't require it. ]
Did you date anyone fun? It was supposed to find you a lover, right?
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Someone keeps calling me 'cat eyes.'
[ Although once the words leave his mouth, he considers all he said as unnecessary, bordering on embarrassing. It's like when he asked about his age versus his appearance all over again. And so once the change of subject comes up, he is content to snap up a reason to divert conversation until he realizes what's being implied. Frowning and averting his gaze makes him look guilty; however, he has no clue what he should be feeling bad about.
He didn't even do anything! ]
I don't know what dating is. And I was not looking for a lover.
[ Lover in the context of his limited understanding and him sticking to the definition he provided Ivan: lovers love things and make their lips touch. ]
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