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If he was made to say what he felt, he would say he was just enjoying the moment. With him, everything seemed so simple and effortless. Whatever they did together, whether it was dancing in the street or sharing bread. The most casual things suddently somehow felt like more fun when with him. He felt light and at ease and needed no other name for that.
It was like that all night and all morning until...
They stared at each other as they sat face to face across the width of the narrow room. Suddenly he felt as if they had hit a wall. He felt that there was something lurking behind that wall... that they both couldn't and didn't want to name. So at one point they both stared at each other silently and smiled like idiots. Waiting to see who decides to do something about it first.
Irakli did not last long. He suddenly felt tired, too tired to make decisions like this… He figured it would be easiest if they just split up. Therefore, he unequivocally hinted that he wanted to be left alone. He just ran away from making any other decision, but told himself that otherwise he really wouldn't have been able to sleep a wink. Anyway, what's the big deal, they're going to meet again tomorrow, aren't they?
Finally, Merabi got up to say goodbye and leave. At the same time, for the first time in a long time, he slouched and lowered his eyes, and at that moment Irakli thought that he did look tired. And when he turned around and tried to avoid the big armchair at the same time, it looked as if he swayed slightly and…
"Akh, where are my manners!" Irakli slapped his forehead "I can't let you go when you stagger yourself from fatigue. You might get hit by a car or something... What's the problem with you sleeping here anyway? I'm sure Grandma wouldn't mind."
It sounded more like he was convincing himself than Merab. Especially since he already realised in the middle of his speech that this was not a good idea. But the words were faster than the thought.
Merab looked back at him in surprise. For a brief moment, he even wanted to protest: what a suggestion that he, a born dancer, could stagger! But then he realized the opportunity to spend few more hours in the presence of…
And in an instant he was ready to swear on all the saints that he was in fact a little dizzy.
"No, I'll be fine, really… You don't have to bother yourself," he protested weakly and without conviction, shrugging one shoulder dismissively. Just like before, when Irakli had asked him to try on his antique chokha. In this society, it was a clear signal: "I don't feel allowed to agree immediately, because I do not want to inconvenience you, but I will agree if you insist."
"Oh, but that's not a problem at all" Irakli perfectly sensed that Merab was ready to give in after a little persuasion. So he tried to shrug his shoulders even more carelessly than he did, and even waved his hand to reinforce the effect "After all, David provided me with accommodation at his place... I mean at your place" he corrected himself "So now it's time for me to repay you. Well, actually, I should be ashamed that I was willing to let you go like this. As an apology, I'll give you my bed. I will sleep in the chair."
Merab instinctively looked at the armchair next to him and protested again: as a guest he would have been satisfied enough sleeping on the floor, and the armchair is really comfortable and he doesn't mind...
But Irakli had already got up and shrugged his shoulders, giving a clear signal that the bed was free and that it had already been decided. He put his hands in his pockets and took two steps towards Merab.
"Come on. Here in Tbilisi, I'm someone's guest all the time, I'm used to it. When I'm really tired, I'm able to sleep in any conditions," he wanted to emphasize that he didn't mind the brothers that he had to sleep on the floor himself.
Merab, however, remembered something else, because his face lit up with a smile and he snorted, glancing at him slyly:
"Yeah, I know, I've already seen you sleeping," he meant when Irakli took a nap in the marshrutka... on his shoulder.
However, Irakli either did not understand or wanted to use the opportunity to make a joke. He made a half indignant and troubled face and asked:
"Was I snoring?"
"No, but... I think you can sleep in all conditions indeed when after drinking... Even on the bus."
Merab laughed sincerely, but at the same time he looked down shyly and ran his hand over his belly in a funny way. He clearly lost all confidence when he was forced to say something directly about Irakli.
Irakli, on the other hand, learned that he absolutely loved making him do it. Every time he managed to make Merab laugh like this, it felt like he was tickling him. And seeing this, he involuntarily smiled himself.
But after a while Merab became serious again. He still wore a little smile but it was an uncertain one. Still, something seemed to be holding him back from accepting the invitation. Therefore, Irakli continued to insist:
"There's no discussion. You are my guest today and I won't let you leave without a good nap" and saying this, he slowly walked to the door to symbolically end the subject by blocking the way out.
Merab was leaning against the wall by the door, biting his lower lip, drawing with that perpetually restless right hand on the doorframe while keeping his left hand in his pocket. He looked as if for some reason he was still careful not to abuse Irakli's hospitality.
Irakli, staring at his movements and looking for his gaze, leaned his arm against the door himself and... realized too late that he had stood far too close.
In the moment, however, he was ready to pretend that it was pure coincidence. Just the result of some awkwardness and carelessness caused by fatigue and alcohol. So, as was his habit, he found an opportunity to make a joke and change the subject in an instant. He looked down at Merab a little from above and watched him thoughtfully for a moment before saying:
"Um, you're shorter than me." He ran his hand through the hair on top of Merabi's head, then brought it to his own forehead the way one shield his eyes from the sun, to show the difference in their height. At the same time, he pulled back slightly, restoring a tolerable distance between them. "I wonder how could my chokha fit you so perfectly."
Saying that he was really proud of himself. He just managed to turn the irresistible desire to touch this curls into such a casual and meaningless gesture!
Merab, however, reacted to pride like Pavlov's dog: he tilted his head back and looked at him through half-lidded eyes. He got that look of wounded ambition again but not entirely serious:
"Another proof that I'm not inferior to you in anything!"
"Really? Probably more a proof that I surpassed my ancestors..."
"I'm not done yet with surpassing mine!" - Merab flexed with wounded pride and he really looked as if he meant it. It sounded even more comical and absurd than the recent "I've been dancing since I can walk!" and Irakli rolled up laughing.
He was just beginning to get used to the fact that Merabi had been taught to treat any such exchange as an opportunity to compete. Merab, he thought, was forever a little boy at times like this. Trained to always play tough and to prove his worth to his brother and older mates forever. And he also was like a small, nimble kitten who flexed and strutted to look bigger. And was incredibly cute at the same time... if only Irakli dared to say such thing about another guy.
Merab, on the other hand, whenever he saw Irakli laughing so carelessly, felt as if a light was turned on inside him. He wouldn't mind making Irakli laugh all the time. He felt like he could dance for hours or talk all the possible nonsense just to watch that smile and those black eyes staring at him with genuine pleasure.
He suddently realized that he had never known anyone who looked at him that way before. That he didn't know anyone else to whom he would be ready to tell everything about himself. He had the feeling that no matter what he said or did, those eyes would stare at him adoringly, waiting for more. No matter how he dances - when others are constantly critical, in those eyes he will always see only acceptance and admiration. Under the warmth of that gaze, he felt as if he were floating in the air. And that he was ready to do the best he could, to give his all, to give every part of himself, just to deserve the admiration in those eyes, to make that smile again...
Meanwhile, the topic of "will Merab stay" imperceptibly turned into the question of "where will he sleep." They both seemed to be still more hungry for interaction than sleep, though. They couldn't miss the opportunity for another courteous and absurd argument:
Merab insisted that he would sleep in the armchair.
"Fair enough, if you sleep on the chair, I'll sleep on the floor!" Irakli argued.
"If you sleep on the floor, I'll sleep under the bed!" Merab announced.
"You won't, because I'm sleeping in the armchair! You go to bed, end of discussion" Irakli tried to parody the unobjectionable tone of his authoritarian father. And to emphasize the message, he blocked the way from the bed to the armchair with his own body.
Merab must have had a bad experience with that tone, though, because he didn't look amused. He stood in front of him with his arms crossed and his eyes narrowed menacingly.
"Let me get to that chair."
"Are you crazy? I'm already sleeping in the chair! Unless you want to sleep on my lap?" Irakli tried to turn everything into an absurd joke and suddenly realized that he had entered a dangerous area.
"You already slept on me. Maybe it's time for a rematch?" replied Merab defiantly, also belatedly realizing that he had gone too far.
Irakli suddenly lost his good mood. He clenched his teeth and looked back anxiously, suddenly wondering if their banter might be overheard by Granny or anyone else. He stopped smiling and found that all this pointless exchange was starting to tire him. He suddenly realized with full clarity that the very idea of inviting Merab here was stupid. He would have liked to have asked him to leave again, but now it was too late to withdraw the invitation.
Finally, he felt obligated to interrupt the embarrassing situation again, so he simply shook his head and waved his hand. Jokes were over.
"You will sleep on the bed", he said much more quietly and with a sigh. Even if I had to carry you there, he added to himself. And to emphasize his words he reached for Merab's backpack wanting to throw it on the matress
Merab approached trying to take his property from him. He didn't put any real force into it, still treating it as a common banter and a kind of joke. But Irakli set himself up for a real struggle for some reason . And so when he jerked the backpack he was not fully aware of the uneven distribution of forces. Surprised Merab staggered and almost fell over. Irakli instantly realized his mistake and grabbed his hand and shirt, stopping him from falling.
As a result, Merabi only hit his thigh against the nearest piece of furniture. He hissed briefly in pain and rubbed the sore spot with his free hand. However, Irakli was genuinely terrified that he had almost hurt him and drew him to his chest with a gesture full of concern and remorse.
„Oh, God, I'm sorry. I'm so very sorry, I didn't mean to, I'm sorry…" he repeated, pressing his face against Merab's shoulder and feeling his hair on his cheek. Irakli’s hand couldn't stop stroking his back and head frantically . He could feel his muscular chest under his hand, heaving with his quickened breath.
Merab with his learned grace stabilized both his position and his breathing surprisingly quickly but Irakli still didn't feel ready to let him go. He was shuddering to think that he almost made Merabi's head hit a hard wall and he required much more reassurance than Merab right now.
But yet again, he instinctively searched for a ready-made explanation in his head: he had acted too violently due to fatigue. He had delayed the decision to let him go because of the alcohol intoxication… Yet he knew perfectly well that there was no excuse for the moment to last that long. So he was just standing there with his eyes closed, pretending to himself that he could stop time this way.
He wished that for once the decision had been made for him. If Merab had reflexively pulled away, he might have started blaming himself for being heavy and stupid. After a while, he'll be laughing at himself and his clumsiness. And then each of them will lie down, no matter where, without looking at each other and saying nothing more...
But Merab made no move. Nor did he make any sound. As if he was waiting for something.
Irakli loosened the grip on his wrist. Yet instead of withdrawing his freed hand, Merab softly grabbed his sleeve. Then he slowly turned his head and placed it on his shoulder. Irakli, feeling a warm breath on his neck and delicate hands timidly moving over his body, felt his own breath quicken.
Finally, he pressed the body of the other person to himself with both hands and decided not to think, not to think at all...