Yes. [ He answers his last questions immediately. Shane's heart is beating like a rabbit under a shadow and for a second Ilya is absolutely blasted with warmth, like summer sunlight tainted with joy so intense it feels more like fear. ]
Just for looks. That's all. Fuck, I love you. [ The words slip through that broken barrier easily, even though Shane doesn't know he's flooded Ilya with his own feelings. He does know he probably lost control of that last thought though, and the connection abruptly closes up. ]
We will just need to keep story straight. ( which he knows that Shane will, at least. Ilya will if he remembers.
he smiles to himself as he sits back against the couch he's resting on, out in some common area. he almost projects the words back but then he feels the wave of warmth, of heat. it's joy, it's elation. it's mirrored back in his chest with equal force if one knew where to look behind the walls of indifference he's built around himself.
then suddenly he can't feel half of it anymore. and suddenly it feels like something has been torn from him, like a physical blow. ) What the-- Shane? Did you-- Did you feel that?
[ Keep the story straight, yup. Shane's been doing that what feels like most of his life. He even snorts a little at the pun that he's sure Ilya did not intend, but then something bizarre happens -- it's like the warm, smitten feeling he gets when he's talking to Ilya is held up to a mirror, reflected back at him so strongly that Shane stands up abruptly from the bed -- their new bed -- that he'd been sitting on.
Then it's over just as soon as it started and Shane can't believe how disappointed he is. It was like what Shane has always assumed drugs are like. ]
I-- I think so? What the fuck was that? [ Important, sure, but he sure did notice that Ilya didn't say it back! ]
It was— ( Ilya can’t quite describe how it was, not in a language that Shane understands as much as Ilya wishes that he could. He’s not aware the way this place works, that it can grant him the eloquence he wishes he had wish his boyfriend through forces he doesn’t understand.
A bit of frustration bubbles up, pointed inward but spreading like discomfort as he chases words in a second tongue. but the way they slip away from him as they sometimes do when he chases only adds to the uncomfortable tightness and confusion blooming in his chest. ) It was like— Warmth? Happiness?
Yeah. Yeah, I know what you mean. [ Which is insane, that the description Ilya had just given him is what he'd just experienced, but for some reason Shane feels frustrated now, confused, maybe at the loss. Maybe about something else? He cards his fingers back through his hair, presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets. Lets out a shaky sigh. ]
Fucking weird, this place. You don't feel it anymore, do you? I don't.
[ Being left hanging has also made him feel itchy, disappointed in a stupid, embarrassing way. He tries to tell himself it's nothing. Ilya's just distracted. ]
I don’t. Now is… Like ants crawling on skin? ( which he doesn’t love, actually. He’d love for this feeling to go away and for the one from before to flow through him, like a heat that burned but felt like comfort at the same time. ) You felt it all too? The same way?
I went to look for clothes and blankets. ( he says to the question, looking down at the hoard he’d gathered without a real plan on where he’d take them back to. but Shane took care of that and a warmth flutters in his chest. ) For our new room now. Which you need to tell me where it is, любимый.
[ The more they talk about the feelings the more confused Shane gets, so he skips over that to the part of the conversation that makes sense to him, the part that's a relief to hear because he was just wondering about how they were going to stock up their space so they won't freeze to death - and Ilya has already started on it. Good, that's good. Tomorrow he'll have to figure out the firewood situation for their fireplace, something that Shane can't stop thinking about as romantic despite the terrifying situation it's a part of.
And that little Russian word... Shane perks up at it, feels instinctively that it's meant for him. A flicker of that good feeling is back and Shane wraps his arms around himself, trying to hold onto it. ]
Upstairs. The big winding ones, I'll meet you at the top of them.
Then I will meet you at top of winding stairs. I think some of what I found is not terrible and wool. ( which will keep them warm but Ilya can’t remember if he’s seen Shane wear it and hates the feeling of being wool sweaters on his own skin anyway. there are some silks but they won’t exactly be warm. though being next to Shane has kept him warm enough, he’s shivering on his own. )
Which word? Last one? ( he says it again in their mental link, smug and nearly purring. ) It means something like “my love” — it’s a pet name. Very important in Russian when dating. With friends too but very much when dating.
( he realizes, then, how he doesn’t mind that Shane calls him by his proper name but that it’d be nice to hear any form of diminutive or pet name from his lips. )
[ The way Ilya repeats the word in his head makes Shane shiver, actually shiver like he's trapped out in the cold, only it's a trickle of warmth that spreads from his spine to his limbs and finally flushes his entire body as Ilya translates. ]
любимый. [ He repeats it unsteadily but with intention. Then he says it again, lower and slower, like Ilya had. The feeling that Ilya gets subjected to through their connection this time is achingly warm, like iodine in the blood. The sunlight is gone and there's lust in its place, bone-deep and simmering. ]
How can we 'date' if we're stuck here?
[ Not that they'd be able to 'date' back at home, either. That was the whole idea behind hiding out at the cottage. And that had stayed so secret. ]
( There's a fluttering in Ilya's chest as Shane says it, repeats it again with more conviction.
The heat there burns brighter, wraps around him like a hug and then blooms in mirror of the electricity at the base of his spine. He wants to reach out, to touch and wonder if he can ever make Shane understand the depth of the ocean of love in his heart. ) I think since no one has asked for Ilya Rozanov or other guy Shane Hollander autograph yet, we may be able share meal together somewhere more public than kitchen. No?
( The fact that it won't be a date to anyone else by them, well, that sour's the warmth but it brings with it a fresh coolness of longing and then does nothing to the spark of arousal. )
[ Not only has Shane sat back down on their bed, he's fallen backward to lie on it, to bask in what he's feeling even if he doesn't understand how it's happening. It's left him almost delirious. It might be the best he's ever felt. ]
'Other guy'?
[ But it's said with the sweetest little chuckle, with a little growl that gives away the way he'd claw at Ilya if he were in front of him, dig in his claws and tickle him, or just give him a shove. Their connection feels like mischief now, like puppy teeth.
But Shane is floored by the suggestion. Terrified, but more excited than he realizes he's ever been allowed to be about the idea. ]
Yeah. Yeah, we can. I guess that'll be... our first date. Right? [ If that's what Ilya is suggesting. Oh god, is that not what he's suggesting? ] I mean, if dates have to be public to count. Then it would be... the first one.
Yes, other guy. Two is not a winner, three nobody remembers. ( if this is sing-songed to the tune of a certain rap song, Ilya can't be blamed due to his age.
He hums the verse to himself. But the thing that delights him more is the playfulness that comes through, pure and eager. It reminds him of Shane and something itches at the base of his skull.
The questions gives pause because--- Ilya hasn't really thought of his hookups with Shane as dates, even if he'd spent more time and carefulness arranging them than the dates the media caught him going on. A date feels grander than anything they've ever had, unless-- ) Yeah? Some count date night in.
But I think I'd like to have a new first date night with you. One out.
[ Said with the biggest, dumbest smile on his face. They aren't even home, where hockey still fucking matters, and still Ilya is chirping at him like this. It feels so familiar, so safe, that Shane's heart is aching. What the hell would he do if Ilya wasn't here with him? ]
Yeah? [ That flutter in his chest again, their connection feeling like those weightless moments in an elevator on its way down. ] Yeah. Okay. But it has to be tonight. Before you come up here.
[ Suddenly he sounds adamant. ] We can't move in together before we have our first date.
[ He's soaked in the smell of him, the warmth of him, long before Shane even opens his eyes. He prays when he does he'll see the walls of his cottage around them, see the sunlight coming in through the windows Ilya had insisted they keep drawn wide. Instead he sees the rough stone wall of their new bedroom, the faded burgundy of their new sheets. Ilya's familiar tan arms around him, the sleep-heavy weight of him tight to Shane's back.
He arches back against Ilya's chest, against his groin, and lets the thrill of waking up in his boyfriend's arms outweigh the fear of waking up... ]
Shit. We're still here.
[ He groans, turning a little so he can nudge at the Russian's chin, nuzzling for a good morning kiss despite their morning breath. ]
( Ilya isn't actually asleep when he feels Shane arch, but he's not awake to flex the hand that's resting over his boyfriend's stomach. The other has been used as a pillow and, as he flutters up toward a sharper awareness, he'll feel the tall-tell tingling. He'd slept through the night, but only because he still had the other man in his arms. He shifts the hand spread over taut skin downward. And then--
Shane tenses, the not-only-disappointment in his tone. Ilya pushes himself toward awareness. Instead of jolting, it's still slow. They're in a nest of furs and warmth, the world beyond the bed is cold and the castle is dangerous in the way Ilya doesn't like. Not the danger of fast cars or the sport that is his life. Not adrenaline and thrill, but fear. His body is taking its time until Shane's shifting and craning for a kiss, instinct takes over as soon as his eyes fully open. He presses his lip to a cheek, to Shane's lips -- chaste in the morning but lingering.
And then it's time to face their current reality. He scrunches his nose, ) Not if we sleep a little longer.
[ The kiss - it's perfect, sweet, he's finally satisfied when he gets it and Shane sags back into Ilya's arms, letting the drowsiness take him over again now that he has permission. The frightening unknown outside their bed is dulled by how it feels to be inside of it, to have no reason to rush back to the waking world, no reason to untangle themselves from each other quite yet. Nothing like the real world, where Shane always feels like they're being rushed. ]
Okay.
[ But Shane has never been good at falling back to sleep once he's woken up. He's more than content to just lie there, to close his eyes and tell himself he's safe, they're safe, but even Ilya's casually curious hand on his belly can't keep the thoughts from creeping slowly in on him. All the things he learned yesterday. All the things he has to make sure Ilya knows, too. ]
Hey. While we're here. [ And he rolls slowly, a little clumsily, in Ilya's arms until he's facing him. He kisses him again, takes him by the face so tenderly. He drags his nose along Ilya's cheek until he's closer to his ear. He has no idea how he's going to find the right words to do this. ] Can I tell you something? And you promise not to get mad at me?
( For a few minutes, there's blissful silence and Ilya wonders if he's gotten Shane to give in. At the cabin, they'd had early mornings but that had been due to the novelty, the desire to spend as much waking time together as they could once they had the freedom for it in the sunlight. Ilya misses the quiet of the cabin now, the warmth of the sun as he splayed out in the grass in just a pair of swim trunks.
'Promise not to get mad at me?' is a tricky request. Instinctively, Ilya tenses at the words but it's Shane. And they're planning a future together so he tries to stop himself from spiraling into a pit of familiar patterns, throwing his walls up to strike out first before he's hurt. It could be nothing.
He'd very much like for it to be nothing but the other shoe has always dropped for Ilya Rozanov.
He furrows his brows but he's leaning into Shane's hold, relishing the palms on his cheeks and the brush of Shane's nose against his own. His hand slides up Shane's chest but the press of his palm over his left pec is more a gauge of if he can feel the steady beat of his heart instead of an attempt to grope, to pleasure. The points of contact make him more at ease, which means it's-- he wracks his brain for options and lands on one that would upset him. ) Is everything-- Are you hurt?
You haven't promised. [ But he doesn't want to let Ilya start to stress, it's meant to be playful despite the way he can feel his boyfriend tense up, and even though he doesn't get the verbal contract he wanted Shane hurries to tell him what he can. ]
Yeah, yeah I'm okay. I am. But it was a close call. [ Not really for him, but for Rose, but he'll get to that. He has to make Ilya understand the moment - somehow. His heartbeat is steady under Ilya's hand, a little agitated and fluttery but only because Shane finds saying anything important the right way to be very difficult. ] Did you see... in the-- 'dream' thing, that first one we woke up in. Did you see the... thorn guy? The monster they all keep talking about? He was there. And there were these... vines.
[ Man, how stupid can he make this sound? There is no way Ilya is going to follow any of this unless he'd seen the Garden from Hell too because even Shane doesn't sound fully convinced of the story he's telling. ]
There were people getting tangled in them, getting hurt. It was like it was alive and it did get... Rose. She's here, too. For real. [ He'd made sure to check, to find her, all before having this very awkward conversation with Ilya about what he'd done. ]
(Playful is good. It eases some of the furrow but Ilya's still tense enough, still worried. He's about to promise but Shane barrels on and that's better.
Until the mention of a close call. Ilya is pretty sure he didn't see any bruises, any cuts he didn't recognize since they woke up but he cranes his neck back as if to check again. Just in case. He doesn't see anything immediately, feels a coil in his chest loosen. ) The Lord? The asshole who made everyone fight?
( Yes, Ilya had seen him.
Which isn't the biggest part of what Shane says. Ilya's listening, confused for a second before-- ) Your ex, Rose Landry, is here?
( asked flat, not accusatory but Ilya can't help but feel jealousy even if Shane's told him that there's nothing going on. That he and Rose didn't even really work when they were dating. He can't quite keep it from his voice, sighs and shakes his head. Okay.
Shane asked him not to be mad and Ilya can be stupidly jealous but he's not mad. He hopes Shane doesn't call him out on the former as he ducks in to press a kiss to his lips. ) I am not mad at this, Shane. I promise.
[ Yeah, that was the tone Shane was expecting. He rubs at Ilya's chest in the moment of silence after her name is invoked, trying to soothe the both of them through this confession. He sees the same look on Ilya's face now that he had at the cottage by the fire and that has Shane more than a little concerned given what he still has to tell him.
The sigh isn't great, but the kiss is. So far so good, and Shane cups his face to make the kiss linger. ]
Okay. That's good. [ But he worries his lip when they part, hesitating again. ] But I'm not at the part that's going to make you mad yet.
[ So he doesn't know how much that promise is going to be worth in a few seconds. Suddenly it's a whole lot more difficult for Shane to make eye contact and Ilya's chin and collarbone become a lot more interesting. ]
We were getting cut up trying to get her out, but we saw some people kiss to escape and she figured out... that it was mistletoe. Some stupid magic that meant we had to play along with it to... [ It's Shane's turn to sigh because he has no idea how to say this - so he just says it. ] I had to kiss her, Ilya. To get her out. It was the only thing that worked.
[ A very brief flicker of his eyes up at Ilya, holding them for a second so that he knows that Shane is telling him the truth. But it's too hard to hold him like that, too hard to wait for Ilya to decide what to think. So Shane looks away and buries his nose in Ilya's neck, doing the only thing he can think to do: apologize. ]
I'm sorry. I'd have told you sooner, but... I didn't think any of this was fucking real.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
missive.
Date: 2026-01-31 11:34 pm (UTC)I already found some rooms. They're attached by a bathroom, it's a good floorplan. You know, logical. Roomy.
no subject
Date: 2026-02-01 01:00 am (UTC)Are you asking your boyfriend to live with you?
abrupt involuntary switch to thoughtspeak.
Date: 2026-02-01 03:46 am (UTC)No, I mean...
It just makes sense. Doesn't it? There's two rooms. It wouldn't look like...
Shit. Okay, yes. I'm asking.
[ Why does it feel like he's leaving the most embarassing voicemail of his life? ]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-01 04:05 am (UTC)I want to live with you.
Two rooms with bathroom sounds perfect.
No one will ask anything, we just have to use second one a little.
It will be just for looks, yes?
Second room?
no subject
Date: 2026-02-01 04:13 am (UTC)Just for looks. That's all.
Fuck, I love you. [ The words slip through that broken barrier easily, even though Shane doesn't know he's flooded Ilya with his own feelings. He does know he probably lost control of that last thought though, and the connection abruptly closes up. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-01 04:35 am (UTC)he smiles to himself as he sits back against the couch he's resting on, out in some common area. he almost projects the words back but then he feels the wave of warmth, of heat. it's joy, it's elation. it's mirrored back in his chest with equal force if one knew where to look behind the walls of indifference he's built around himself.
then suddenly he can't feel half of it anymore. and suddenly it feels like something has been torn from him, like a physical blow. ) What the-- Shane? Did you-- Did you feel that?
no subject
Date: 2026-02-01 09:40 pm (UTC)Then it's over just as soon as it started and Shane can't believe how disappointed he is. It was like what Shane has always assumed drugs are like. ]
I-- I think so? What the fuck was that? [ Important, sure, but he sure did notice that Ilya didn't say it back! ]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-08 04:49 am (UTC)A bit of frustration bubbles up, pointed inward but spreading like discomfort as he chases words in a second tongue. but the way they slip away from him as they sometimes do when he chases only adds to the uncomfortable tightness and confusion blooming in his chest. ) It was like— Warmth? Happiness?
And then was gone? Like ice?
no subject
Date: 2026-02-08 05:59 am (UTC)Fucking weird, this place. You don't feel it anymore, do you? I don't.
[ Being left hanging has also made him feel itchy, disappointed in a stupid, embarrassing way. He tries to tell himself it's nothing. Ilya's just distracted. ]
Where are you, anyway?
no subject
Date: 2026-02-08 06:15 am (UTC)I went to look for clothes and blankets. ( he says to the question, looking down at the hoard he’d gathered without a real plan on where he’d take them back to. but Shane took care of that and a warmth flutters in his chest. ) For our new room now. Which you need to tell me where it is, любимый.
no subject
Date: 2026-02-08 06:36 am (UTC)And that little Russian word... Shane perks up at it, feels instinctively that it's meant for him. A flicker of that good feeling is back and Shane wraps his arms around himself, trying to hold onto it. ]
Upstairs. The big winding ones, I'll meet you at the top of them.
But what did you just say? In Russian, just now?
no subject
Date: 2026-02-08 07:08 am (UTC)Which word? Last one? ( he says it again in their mental link, smug and nearly purring. ) It means something like “my love” — it’s a pet name. Very important in Russian when dating. With friends too but very much when dating.
( he realizes, then, how he doesn’t mind that Shane calls him by his proper name but that it’d be nice to hear any form of diminutive or pet name from his lips. )
no subject
Date: 2026-02-10 05:03 am (UTC)любимый. [ He repeats it unsteadily but with intention. Then he says it again, lower and slower, like Ilya had. The feeling that Ilya gets subjected to through their connection this time is achingly warm, like iodine in the blood. The sunlight is gone and there's lust in its place, bone-deep and simmering. ]
How can we 'date' if we're stuck here?
[ Not that they'd be able to 'date' back at home, either. That was the whole idea behind hiding out at the cottage. And that had stayed so secret. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-03-01 01:51 am (UTC)The heat there burns brighter, wraps around him like a hug and then blooms in mirror of the electricity at the base of his spine. He wants to reach out, to touch and wonder if he can ever make Shane understand the depth of the ocean of love in his heart. ) I think since no one has asked for Ilya Rozanov or other guy Shane Hollander autograph yet, we may be able share meal together somewhere more public than kitchen. No?
( The fact that it won't be a date to anyone else by them, well, that sour's the warmth but it brings with it a fresh coolness of longing and then does nothing to the spark of arousal. )
no subject
Date: 2026-03-01 04:07 am (UTC)'Other guy'?
[ But it's said with the sweetest little chuckle, with a little growl that gives away the way he'd claw at Ilya if he were in front of him, dig in his claws and tickle him, or just give him a shove. Their connection feels like mischief now, like puppy teeth.
But Shane is floored by the suggestion. Terrified, but more excited than he realizes he's ever been allowed to be about the idea. ]
Yeah. Yeah, we can. I guess that'll be... our first date. Right? [ If that's what Ilya is suggesting. Oh god, is that not what he's suggesting? ] I mean, if dates have to be public to count. Then it would be... the first one.
no subject
Date: 2026-03-01 05:01 am (UTC)He hums the verse to himself. But the thing that delights him more is the playfulness that comes through, pure and eager. It reminds him of Shane and something itches at the base of his skull.
The questions gives pause because--- Ilya hasn't really thought of his hookups with Shane as dates, even if he'd spent more time and carefulness arranging them than the dates the media caught him going on. A date feels grander than anything they've ever had, unless-- ) Yeah? Some count date night in.
But I think I'd like to have a new first date night with you. One out.
no subject
Date: 2026-03-03 02:24 am (UTC)[ Said with the biggest, dumbest smile on his face. They aren't even home, where hockey still fucking matters, and still Ilya is chirping at him like this. It feels so familiar, so safe, that Shane's heart is aching. What the hell would he do if Ilya wasn't here with him? ]
Yeah? [ That flutter in his chest again, their connection feeling like those weightless moments in an elevator on its way down. ] Yeah. Okay. But it has to be tonight. Before you come up here.
[ Suddenly he sounds adamant. ] We can't move in together before we have our first date.
first morning together.
Date: 2026-02-26 05:46 am (UTC)He arches back against Ilya's chest, against his groin, and lets the thrill of waking up in his boyfriend's arms outweigh the fear of waking up... ]
Shit. We're still here.
[ He groans, turning a little so he can nudge at the Russian's chin, nuzzling for a good morning kiss despite their morning breath. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-03-01 01:45 am (UTC)Shane tenses, the not-only-disappointment in his tone. Ilya pushes himself toward awareness. Instead of jolting, it's still slow. They're in a nest of furs and warmth, the world beyond the bed is cold and the castle is dangerous in the way Ilya doesn't like. Not the danger of fast cars or the sport that is his life. Not adrenaline and thrill, but fear. His body is taking its time until Shane's shifting and craning for a kiss, instinct takes over as soon as his eyes fully open. He presses his lip to a cheek, to Shane's lips -- chaste in the morning but lingering.
And then it's time to face their current reality. He scrunches his nose, ) Not if we sleep a little longer.
no subject
Date: 2026-03-01 04:37 am (UTC)Okay.
[ But Shane has never been good at falling back to sleep once he's woken up. He's more than content to just lie there, to close his eyes and tell himself he's safe, they're safe, but even Ilya's casually curious hand on his belly can't keep the thoughts from creeping slowly in on him. All the things he learned yesterday. All the things he has to make sure Ilya knows, too. ]
Hey. While we're here. [ And he rolls slowly, a little clumsily, in Ilya's arms until he's facing him. He kisses him again, takes him by the face so tenderly. He drags his nose along Ilya's cheek until he's closer to his ear. He has no idea how he's going to find the right words to do this. ] Can I tell you something? And you promise not to get mad at me?
no subject
Date: 2026-03-01 05:11 am (UTC)'Promise not to get mad at me?' is a tricky request. Instinctively, Ilya tenses at the words but it's Shane. And they're planning a future together so he tries to stop himself from spiraling into a pit of familiar patterns, throwing his walls up to strike out first before he's hurt. It could be nothing.
He'd very much like for it to be nothing but the other shoe has always dropped for Ilya Rozanov.
He furrows his brows but he's leaning into Shane's hold, relishing the palms on his cheeks and the brush of Shane's nose against his own. His hand slides up Shane's chest but the press of his palm over his left pec is more a gauge of if he can feel the steady beat of his heart instead of an attempt to grope, to pleasure. The points of contact make him more at ease, which means it's-- he wracks his brain for options and lands on one that would upset him. ) Is everything-- Are you hurt?
no subject
Date: 2026-03-01 05:37 am (UTC)Yeah, yeah I'm okay. I am. But it was a close call. [ Not really for him, but for Rose, but he'll get to that. He has to make Ilya understand the moment - somehow. His heartbeat is steady under Ilya's hand, a little agitated and fluttery but only because Shane finds saying anything important the right way to be very difficult. ] Did you see... in the-- 'dream' thing, that first one we woke up in. Did you see the... thorn guy? The monster they all keep talking about? He was there. And there were these... vines.
[ Man, how stupid can he make this sound? There is no way Ilya is going to follow any of this unless he'd seen the Garden from Hell too because even Shane doesn't sound fully convinced of the story he's telling. ]
There were people getting tangled in them, getting hurt. It was like it was alive and it did get... Rose. She's here, too. For real. [ He'd made sure to check, to find her, all before having this very awkward conversation with Ilya about what he'd done. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-03-01 06:10 am (UTC)Until the mention of a close call. Ilya is pretty sure he didn't see any bruises, any cuts he didn't recognize since they woke up but he cranes his neck back as if to check again. Just in case. He doesn't see anything immediately, feels a coil in his chest loosen. ) The Lord? The asshole who made everyone fight?
( Yes, Ilya had seen him.
Which isn't the biggest part of what Shane says. Ilya's listening, confused for a second before-- ) Your ex, Rose Landry, is here?
( asked flat, not accusatory but Ilya can't help but feel jealousy even if Shane's told him that there's nothing going on. That he and Rose didn't even really work when they were dating. He can't quite keep it from his voice, sighs and shakes his head. Okay.
Shane asked him not to be mad and Ilya can be stupidly jealous but he's not mad. He hopes Shane doesn't call him out on the former as he ducks in to press a kiss to his lips. ) I am not mad at this, Shane. I promise.
no subject
Date: 2026-03-03 02:14 am (UTC)The sigh isn't great, but the kiss is. So far so good, and Shane cups his face to make the kiss linger. ]
Okay. That's good. [ But he worries his lip when they part, hesitating again. ] But I'm not at the part that's going to make you mad yet.
[ So he doesn't know how much that promise is going to be worth in a few seconds. Suddenly it's a whole lot more difficult for Shane to make eye contact and Ilya's chin and collarbone become a lot more interesting. ]
We were getting cut up trying to get her out, but we saw some people kiss to escape and she figured out... that it was mistletoe. Some stupid magic that meant we had to play along with it to... [ It's Shane's turn to sigh because he has no idea how to say this - so he just says it. ] I had to kiss her, Ilya. To get her out. It was the only thing that worked.
[ A very brief flicker of his eyes up at Ilya, holding them for a second so that he knows that Shane is telling him the truth. But it's too hard to hold him like that, too hard to wait for Ilya to decide what to think. So Shane looks away and buries his nose in Ilya's neck, doing the only thing he can think to do: apologize. ]
I'm sorry. I'd have told you sooner, but... I didn't think any of this was fucking real.