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“Hollander…”
“I-I’m sorry, I can’t do this.”
Shane turns around and strides towards the door. He needs air. He needs to get out of this house right now. He opens the front door and steps outside.
“Hollander!”
Shane freezes.
He turns to find Rozanov standing just inside the doorway. He looks devastated. His eyes are wide with panic. He carefully approaches Shane, stopping when they’re only a few meters apart.
“Please, just...” Rozanov drags a hand through his hair. Shane notices that his fingers are trembling. “Come back inside, Hollander. Please.”
Shane meets his gaze. Rozanov’s eyes are filled with sadness. Shane knows they should talk, but he doesn’t dare to open his mouth, afraid of what might come out.
Ilya realizes that Shane isn’t moving.
He hesitates, then stretches out his hand hesitantly. “Please, Hollander.”
Shane’s eyes drop to Rozanov’s outstretched hand, shaking slightly, before lifting his gaze to Rozanov’s face. He looks scared. Shane’s never seen him like this before.
“Look..I..I..” Shane wants to tell Rozanov to go back inside. To let him leave. To stop looking at him like that. But the words get stuck in his throat. Rozanov looks so defenseless that Shane starts to feel for him. He doesn’t want Rozanov to feel like this, but he also doesn’t want to stay.
Rozanov sighs and takes Shane’s hand to pull him towards the front door.
“Rozanov!” Shane protest, but his feet start moving towards the door, betraying his words.
Rozanov pulls him back inside and shuts the door hard behind them, the sound echoes through the house.
As soon as they’re inside the house, Rozanov releases Shane’s hand and starts walking back towards the couch where they were sitting a few minutes ago. Shane reluctantly follows Rozanov’s steps. He finds him on the couch, his head in his hands, just where he was sitting when Shane fled.
A few minutes pass where no one dares to say anything. Shane is still standing a few steps away from the couch, unsure what to do with himself. After a while, Rozanov finally looks up at him. He gestures at Shane to sit. Shane does, settling on the other end of the couch, careful to keep a distance between them.
The heavy silence returns.
Rozanov is sitting upright now, staring straight ahead, refusing to look at him. The room feels colder than it did before. Just minutes ago, they had broken the unspoken rule. After years of “Hollander” and “Rozanov”, they had said each other’s first names.
Shane’s mind replays the moment uninvited.
Shane.
They way Ilya had said it, low, intimate, while Shane was still on top of him. The memory burns behind his eyelids.
What does it mean? Or worse, does it mean nothing?
Would Ilya feel the same?
No. Of course not, his mind snaps back. You’re just a warm mouth to him.
His thoughts drift to the hotel room in Vegas. The way Rozanov hadn’t even kiss him. Shane remembers how broken and alone he felt afterwards.
That alone was enough proof to Shane that this thing between them is nothing more than a fucked-up arrangement. But the truth doesn’t change the fact that Shane wishes things were different. That Rozanov means more to him than he wants to admit.
No. Don’t go there.
His eyes drift off to the side and he realizes Rozanov is watching him. How long had he been lost in his thoughts?
“You left.” Rozanov says quietly.
Shane doesn’t answer.
“You left. “He repeats, and this time Shane feels Rozanov’s searching eyes piercing his face.
“I..I.. I’m sorry,” Shane finally manages. “I just…”
The words get stuck in his throat. He’s never been good at communicating.
Shane’s hands curl into his thighs. “I didn’t know what to do.”
Rozanov’s jaw tightens. His eyes never leaving Shane’s face.
“You freaked out over nothing.”
“It’s not nothing,” Shane says softly. “You know it’s not nothing.”
“Hollander, listen. We get together, we fuck, is simple.”
Shane scoffs and drags a hand down his face in frustration. He really didn’t want to have this conversation. Not with Rozanov still shirtless.
“Simple,” he repeats.
“It is simple for me” Rozanov says, but his voice lacks its usual conviction.
Shane nods his head. He looks away from Rozanov. All of a sudden scared to even look at him. He feels tears starting to burn behind his eyes.
“Then why did you pull me back inside?” he asks. “If this means absolutely nothing to you then why are we even having this conversation right now?”
Rozanov doesn’t answer.
Shane swipes at his eyes angrily, embarrassed by the sting of tears. “You don’t get to do that” he says, voice tight. “You don’t get to stop me from leaving if this is all just…” he sighs and he feels a tear starting to roll down his cheek.
Rozanov turns towards him fully now.
“You scare me” Rozanov admits suddenly, so quietly Shane almost misses it. Before Shane can respond, Rozanov lifts his hand and gently brushes his thumb over Shane’s cheek, wiping away the tear with a tenderness that makes Shane’s breath hitch. His hand lingers, tracing slowly over the freckles on Shane’s face. A small, hesitant smile curves at the corner of Rozanov’s mouth. Shane looks up and he notices the sheen in his eyes.
Shane stares at him, his heart hammering. Rozanov’s hand is warm against his cheek. He doesn’t pull away, but he doesn’t lean in either.
“You’re not the only one who’s scared,” Shane whispers.
Carefully as if he’s afraid that Shane will leave again, Rozanov closes the space between them. Their knees touching now.
“You’re a prettier crier,” he says with a crooked grin.
“Shut up, Rozanov,” Shane mutters, but a smile starts to form on his face.
They sit there, knees touching, neither of them planning to move any time soon.
“I don’t know what this is,” Shane finally says. “But I can’t keep pretending it’s nothing.”
Rozanov nods. His gaze drops to where their knees are touching, then back to Shane’s face. “I’m not asking you to.”
“You’re not?” Shane can’t hide the surprise in his voice.
“I’m asking you not to leave.”
Just don’t go.
Shane studies him. Rozanov looks so vulnerable and scared.
“I can’t promise you I won’t freak out again,” Shane says.
Rozanov smiles at that. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Shane laughs.
“Okay” he says. “I won’t leave.”
Rozanov grabs his shin and pulls him into a slow, loving kiss. When they break apart, Shane notices Rozanov is smiling, really smiling. He looks so happy and for now, that’s enough for Shane.