My jokes are my armour, my kindness is my sword

Of course, Shane had heard the rumours about the youngest Rozanov offspring, had seen him here and there, but had never gotten the chance to get closer or even talk to him. Mainly, because his mother had always made sure to keep him far away from the other one. To say that he was intrigued by Ilya Rozanov was probably an understatement, but that wasn't the reason he wanted to attend the masquerade ball. He had always been fascinated by the estate the Rozanovs had moved into, but had never set foot into it. By now, they had renovated the old place while keeping the character of it alive — that was what he had been told. It was the first time, the public would be able to see the whole place in its new light. Workers had been inside, friends of the family as well as the staff working at the house, but everyone else was curious to see it tonight, and especially the decorations and the food for the ball.

"There you are!" Rose welcomed him the moment he set foot through the door. Her own parents were on vacation, so it was just the two of them and the staff the Landrys employed. "I cannot wait to see you in the whole ensemble."

"I have a feeling you're more excited than I am." A smile crept on his lips as he followed her. They had found an old suit of her father in the attic and had taken it down to alter it for Shane. Sure, he could have worn his own clothes, but it was about being someone else for the night, to put on a mask and a costume, and do whatever he wanted to do without thinking about the consequences. Hence, nobody was supposed to recognise him. It helped that everybody assumed that his family was not attending the ball.

"Maybe. I finished your mask. Did you bring the shoes I asked about?" Taking Shane's hand, she led him upstairs to the old study that they had turned into a place for Rose to live out her hobbies.

"Of course. You would have sent me home otherwise."

"True."

In the room, there was the dress for herself that she had been working on. It was a beautiful dark green dress that sparkled in the light, wings attached to the back and a mask with horns and flowers everywhere. She had known immediately that she would go as a woodland fairy. Shane on the other hand was going to be the man in silver. It wasn't one specific person, but definitely something else, something new for him, because his usual attire was more on the darker side. There were sequins and lace on the jacket and waistcoat. The only dark piece he would be wearing, was the shirt beneath the waistcoat. Even his shoes would be silver once Rose was done with them. They were the last missing piece, which was why she took them from him to get them ready. Shane had no idea just what she was doing to them, but when she handed them back, his once white shoes had a silver glimmer to them, just like the trousers he would be wearing.

"Thank you. And may I just say that you've outdone yourself with the mask? With both of them actually." While he'd already complimented her on her own mask the last time she'd shown it to him, he still had to include it now, because it was simply stunning. His own mask would cover half of his face, glittering in the light, some lace covering a part of his hair as well.

"I enjoyed getting creative with them." Rose bumped her shoulder against Shane's before she reached for her own mask. "Ready to get changed?"

He hated that he hesitated before saying yes, because he wanted this. He wanted to attend the ball and enjoy the evening with Rose, but he couldn't shake the nervousness. The fact that it was something forbidden played into that as well. If his parents found out, they'd never let him hear the end of it. Then we have to make sure they won't find out, Rose had said to him. He wanted and needed to have some fun, get out of his shell for once, and a masquerade ball was just the right thing for that, because he didn't need to worry about what everyone would think. Nobody would know that it was him — if they paid him any attention at all — since the Hollanders were not attending, right?

"Look at you!" Rose's voice sounded from the door, urging Shane to turn around. He was dressed in his whole outfit now, only the mask was still missing. It was so far from his normal attire, but he was comfortable in it. More than that actually, because it did wonders for his confidence, pretending to be someone else, someone nobody truly knew.

"Well, that is all thanks to you. But have you seen yourself?" Shane took a step closer and reached for his friend's hand. "You're breathtaking! You will steal the show at the ball."

"We'll look even better together."

Shane had to agree, because when he looked at the two of them in the mirror, masks on by now, he was truly taken aback. Their outfits complimented one another. His silver jacket went perfectly with Rose's dark green dress and all the little details. If his mother could see them now, she would let them know that they would have the prettiest babies. Again. She kept telling them, hoping that they would come to their senses and get married. For both of them, it was clear, that this would never happen. They were friends, the best friends, but there were no romantic feelings between them. There never had been, and Rose was one of the few people who knew that Shane was not interested in women that way at all, but he still kept it a secret from his parents.

The ride in the carriage only made his nervousness rise, but at least he had Rose at his side who calmed him down a bit. It would get better once they were inside, when the most crucial part was over and he would be able to enjoy the night. Rose kept his hand in her own, when they stepped out of the carriage. She had a brief conversation with the footman, making sure the carriage would be here at midnight so they could get away again, since midnight was the time when the masks would fall, and they should not be here by then anymore.

"Good evening. May we see your invitation?"

Shane felt sweat roll down his spine. It was the moment he'd been most worried about, but in the end, everything went smoothly. Rose handed over the invitations her family had gotten, and nobody asked any questions.

"I told you it would not be a problem," she whispered, letting go of his hand to interlock their arms. The entrance was decorated with purple roses and white lilies, a colour concept they would encounter everywhere in the house, since it seemed to be the theme. Different purple tones here and there, but the lilies had to be Shane's favourites. It looked classy and elegant, making Rose fit in even more with her woodland fairy look.

They made their way through the main hall, stopping here and there to take a closer look or grab something to eat. Now that the tension had left his shoulders, Shane realised just how hungry he was. They hadn't had anything for dinner, so they could enjoy the food here, and that was what they were doing now. There was so much to choose from, that it was not easy to make a decision but in the end, they were both happy and satisfied, and could enjoy a drink. Never drink on an empty stomach. That was one lesson the two of them had learned together. Not that Shane was a big fan of champagne anyway, but it was what one drank at events like this one.

"Is it okay to leave you for a moment?" Rose asked him, making him focus on her again after he'd been staring at the decorations for a moment. There was a young man standing next to her, whom he did not recognise, but that was not surprising. "For a dance?" she clarified, knowing that he had not listened before, so he needed some more information.

"Of course. You should have some fun!" And since Shane was not exactly a good dancer, she needed to find someone else for that. Oh, he had tried time and time again, and even Rose had practised with him, but more often than not, he had ended up stepping on her toes. She would never force him to dance with her, and he in turn would not keep her from finding someone to dance with.

Eventually, she would find her way back to him, and in the meantime, Shane was able to take a look around again. There was still so much he hadn't seen, so he put one foot in front of the other and wove his way through the crowd. Of course, he took a closer look at some of the costumes that were simply stunning, but the building itself captured his attention more. Especially the chandelier in the middle of the ballroom made him stop and look up. It was not the first chandelier he saw, not by far, but this one still captivated him. Not only because of the sheer size of it, but especially by the way the light caught in it, the reflections dancing over the floor just like the people did. As if it wanted to accompany them, move right along with the dancers.

"Apologies, but would you please show us your invitation again?"

Shane turned his head to look at the person who had drawn his attention away from the chandelier, heart hammering in his chest. It was one of the guards, and a quick look around told him that there were a few of them walking around, checking invitations.

"My… I am sorry, what is this about?" Feign confidence, try to distract them, so he would hopefully get out of this situation somehow, since he did not have an invitation with him.

"It has come to our attention that uninvited guests might have sneaked in, so we are required to see every invitation again."

"I understand, but I do not have the invitation on hand. You see, the lady I came here with had our invitations." It was the truth, but even so, his heart stumbled in his chest again, making it hard for him to breathe. If he didn't calm down, they would be onto him, and know that he was not supposed to be here even though he had an invitation.

"And where can we find her?"

"She is dancing." Shane turned to look at the crowd again, right where he had last seen Rose, but he couldn't detect her. "At least she was just a moment ago."

"If you cannot find her or provide an invitation, we will have to escort you out." The moment the guard put his hand on Shane's upper arm, panic rose inside him. Where was Rose in a moment like this?

If he could, Ilya would be spending the evening somewhere else, but his father had made it clear to him that he had to attend, since the ball was happening in their home. It was an honour to hold the first ball of the season — a sentence Ilya had heard more times that he could count, in Russian and even in English. He knew all that, but that didn't mean that he was back home on time. Without anyone really noticing, since he'd managed to find a few ways to get in and out without being detected, he slipped up to his room while the ball was already in full swing. His father would urge him to mingle, to talk to all kinds of people, hoping that he would find someone to settle down with instead of sleeping around like he was doing at the moment. His father knew, even if he didn't say it like that. Not that Ilya was looking for anything serious, not at all, but he would do what his father asked to please him. It was the least he could do after being way too late, right?

He quickly got dressed in his costume, put on the mask, and glanced at the mirror. Upon seeing his reflection, he decided to open the first three buttons of the shirt he was wearing to give a glimpse of his chest. That looked more like him, and fit better with the all black ensemble in his opinion. Even his mask was black, but it was only covering his eyes, giving him a bit of a mysterious look. He didn't fool himself, because people would recognise him either way, but maybe, he would get the chance to hide away at one point. Not before showing his face here and there and being drawn into conversations.

"You're late," his father said the moment he stepped up next to him. Ever since moving into this house, his father had made it a point to speak English when other people were around, because it was only appropriate. Unless there was something he did not want other people to overhear of course.

"My apologies." Ilya clasped his hands together behind his back and cast a look around, trying to figure out if there was anyone he recognised immediately, but to no avail. He would have to get closer and actually talk to people to figure out who they were. or he could wait until midnight when everyone had to reveal themselves. "I will make rounds to talk to everyone." Not everyone, but quite a lot of people at least, if it was up to his father. Ilya would try, but he was not promising anything. And how could he when the first conversation was already so boring that he focused on the bubbles in his champagne and how they rose to the surface?

He excused himself, telling the young lady who was nearly clinging to his arm that he had to be a good host and leave her, but they would hopefully get the chance to talk a bit more later. A dance? Oh yes, surely, there would be a possibility later on. He had no idea how often he repeated these words, but the conversations he was roped into were too boring to keep his attention. The costumes, the decorations, the music, the food, everything was wonderful, but he couldn't listen to that anymore. Nobody named any details, what exactly they loved about a certain costume or about the food, it was only superficial before trying to cling onto him and get him to dance with them. If only there had been one interesting conversation, Ilya might have been talked into dancing with that person.

Right when he needed a break, his eyes stopped on someone dressed almost completely in silver. But it wasn't the outfit that kept his attention, it was the way the person was looking up at the chandelier, almost as if they hadn't seen anything more fascinating before. The smile on the man's lips captivated him even more. In a sea of people that were all so focused on themselves, this man stopped to appreciate something so simple. It was his genuine smile that made Ilya walk into his direction. In all the conversations he had had so far tonight, there had not been one honest smile or laugh, all of them fake and over the top to get on his good side. Not that that had ever worked, but how were they supposed to know.

"Sir, you will have to leave with us."

"Let me just find her, please," the man in silver said to the guard who was pulling on his arm to get him to move, right when Ilya ppeared next to them.

"What is going on?" he demanded, making both men face his way, and while the guard recognised him, the other man's eyes just widened and stayed fixed on him.

"Apologies, but we have to ask for everyone's invitation," the guard explained himself, while still holding onto the other man's arm.

"Do you not know who this is?" Ilya grabbed the guards wrist and pulled on it so that he had to let go of the silver gentleman. "You should be ashamed. Leave him alone."

"My apologies." The guard bowed to them before turning around.

"I'm… thank you."

"Do not thank me yet," Ilya said, aware of people watching them, because the situation had attracted attention. The other man seemed to notice that as well judging by the way he tensed, the way his jaw clenched. "Need some air?" he heard himself ask and even if it was the briefest nod he got from the other one, it made him grab his hand and start walking. Aware of the people looking at them, he led the silver gentleman through the kitchen first as a kind of distraction, before he headed outside again.

Their feet slowed down, but Ilya had a goal in mind. If they stayed here, there would most certainly be someone who would interrupt them, and now that he had the chance to talk to the stranger, he would grab it — as long as the other one wanted that as well. Judging by the way he was following Ilya and still holding onto his hand, he figured that there was a good chance that he wasn't opposed to a little conversation.

"In there, you looked uncro… un… un—"

"Uncomfortable?" The silver gentleman provided, no judgement evident in his voice. Ilya had learned the language, but he was still learning, and there were some words that were more difficult than others.

"Yes. That." He cast a quick look back at him, but then concentrated on where he was going. "They hurt you?"

"What? No. No, they didn't. I can explain, though, I do not have my invitation with me, because—"

"Relax," Ilya said with a laugh when he stopped and turned around to face him again. they'd reached their destination. "I do not care about invitation."

"Okay." The way he scrunched up his nose in confusion made Ilya's grin widen, but the following question caught him off guard: "Why did you intervene? Why did you save me in that situation?"

"Because I wanted to talk to you." It was a simple answer and a truthful one. He had walked over when he had seen the silver gentleman admire the beauty of the chandelier, but before he had gotten to him, the guard had found him.

"But… why?"

"You caught my attention." The way the other one's eyes widened made Ilya squeeze his hand that he was still holding. "All these people want my attention, laugh too loud, grab my arm, but you did not." It was not that his ego was bruised because the silver gentleman had not tried to approach him, not at all, it was something else entirely. "You did not beg for any attention. You looked at the lights."

His lips parted on an ohh and he let go of Ilya's hand. First he thought it was to get some distance between them, but it seemed more like the silver gentleman needed to move, walk a few steps, but he did not look at Ilya again while he spoke. "I've heard about this house and the chandelier but I've never been here before. And the way the lights fell on the floor, mingling with the dancing people was just fascinating, I—" he stopped himself and looked back at Ilya again, "I apologise."

"Why you apologise?" Ilya was curious, taking a tentative step towards him again, happy to realise that he was standing his ground and no moving away.

"Because I talk too much."

"Maybe. But it's cute. Like you enjoy what is around you." After all, that had been what had drawn Ilya towards him. The way he'd admired the chandelier, how he had not cared about anyone around him watching or maybe even judging him. "Is why I brought you here."

"What do you mean?" The silver gentleman asked, but when Ilya pointed above them, he tilted his head back, and there it was again. That look of wonder in his eyes, the smile that lit up his whole face. "Beautiful."

Ilya thought so as well, because they were surrounded by purple and white lilacs, the scent hitting his nose whenever there was a light breeze. They were standing on a terrace that did not have a roof, but it was surrounded by pillars where the lilacs grew. The missing roof meant that they had a great view at the clear night sky and could watch the stars for a moment. It was Ilya's favourite place to be, especially at night when everyone else was asleep. Right now, nobody was sleeping in the house, but they still had their privacy.

"You were not dancing?" he asked, drawing the other one's attention back to himself, because he wanted to know more about him, wanted to find out why he had not been dancing with anyone.

"I do not dance. I cannot dance without hurting anyone, so I wanted my friend to dance with someone else. She loves to dance."

"Did you not learn to dance?" Ilya took another step closer.

"Believe me, I tried. But it seems like I just cannot do it and step on my dance partner's toes all the time."

"Maybe you need better teacher." That was the moment Ilya held out his hand to the other one.

"You want to teach me? Are you sure?" Tentatively, he put his hand in Ilya's, who immediately pulled him close. The silver gentleman's other hand found purchase on Ilya's chest, before quickly moving up to his shoulder.

"Very sure." His voice was more of a murmur in the small space between them.

His hand firmly in his own, Ilya started moving to the faint music they could still hear out here because of the open windows of the main house. The silence between them was not deafening for a change, because they were both listening to the music, feeling it. And all of a sudden, it felt effortless and not like the silver gentleman had no idea how to dance. their bodies were perfectly in sync, even moving from one side of the terrace to the other, doing a little twirl here and there. Only when their eyes met and Ilya smiled at him did the silver gentleman stumble against his chest.

"You okay?" Ilya asked, his arm slung around the other one's middle, holding him tightly like this. When the silver gentleman looked up at him, his nose brushed against Ilya's chin, because they were so close — but neither of them was pulling back.

"Yes. Thank you."

"You just needed good teacher, huh?" Ilya could not hold back a grin, which was matched by the other one.

"I guess so."

"You are fascinating." He had thought that from the first moment on, and he was still thinking that way. There were so many layers to the other one that Ilya wanted to pry away one after the other. He was the first person to really captured his interest, to keep his attention.

"Oh stop," the silver gentleman said, lowering his head, but Ilya let go of his hand to cup his cheek and make him look up again. Even in the light of the stars and the moon, he could see the faint blush on his cheeks. Was he not used to compliments like this? That was something Ilya could definitely help with, because he had a lot of words to describe him, maybe make him blush even harder, but he was not sure whether he knew the right English translations.

"It is truth." His thumb brushed over the other one's cheek, his fingers slowly moving towards the back of his head so he could bury them in his thick black hair. "Pretty eyes." That had captured him right from the start. "Pretty lips." To which his eyes dropped. Lips that were parted, making their breathes mingle. When Ilya felt the silver gentleman's fingers curl around the lapels of his shirt, not pushing him away but keeping him right where he was, he felt the last bis of restraint fall away. He had had to make sure that this was not one-sided, that he was not imposing on him, before he acted on his wishes. But the moment he lowered his head to close the gap between them, he realised that the silver gentleman pulled himself up with the same intention.

When their lips met, Ilya's arm tightened around the other one even more, pressing him against his chest so there was no space left between them. His stomach did a funny thing when the other one leaned against him, allowing himself to be held up by Ilya, but his hands did not stay still. He let go of Ilya's shirt, his left hand roaming over his chest — as much as he could reach without bringing distance between them — while his right stroked along Ilya's neck, making him shiver, before delving into his hair. he even elicited a moan out of Ilya that landed in the kiss. Oh, Ilya had kissed his fair share of people, and he had been kissed thoroughly, but this was something else. Nobody had ever made his knees buckle with a touch and a kiss, but yet here he was, clinging onto the silver gentleman like he was the air he needed to breathe. There was just something about him that he could not explain, and he was glad that he did not have to try. Instead, he could make the most of this moment, and he did so by gently tilting the other man's head back with the hand in his hair so he could deepen the kiss, really taste him and make him moan like this as well.

For a moment there, Ilya almost forgot where they were when he pushed his hand beneath the jacket the other one was wearing, gripping the shirt beneath the waistcoat so he could pull it from his trousers and push his hand underneath it as well, making contact with heated skin. He had not planned for this to happen, but he also did not want to stop. Not when it made both of them feel so good, and the telltale signs were already there. Ilya pulled back from his lips only to start kissing over his cheek and down to his throat. Normally, he did not leave any marks, but something in him snapped and he latched onto the soft skin, sucking until he could see a pretty bruise forming right there. Something that screamed mine, even if he would not say that out loud.

"What was that?" the silver gentleman suddenly said, his hands gripped Ilya's shoulders and forcing him to look up in confusion. What was he talking about? But then he heard it as well, the constant ringing of a bell.

"Ohh midnight!" He had not realised just how late it was, but somehow, it was a relief. "Time to drop masks."

"What?" The other one seemed to panic, letting go of Ilya and taking a step back to bring some distance between them. "I need to go!"

"Don't. Please."

"I have to. I will get in trouble otherwise." He hesitated, but then he stepped up to Ilya once more, cupped his cheek and kissed him, soft and lingering, a kiss that he felt everywhere in a different way than the one before.

"Tell me our name at least!" So he could get in touch with him, find him. If he did not want to show his face in case someone was watching them, that was fine, but Ilya wanted to know his name. He needed to know his name.

"I thought you knew that already. Didn't you tell the guards?"

"Was distraction." Ilya had to laugh, because he hadn't expected it to work out. He had simply acted and because they had known him, they had not questioned it. The bell rung again and people were coming out of the house.

"It worked. Thank you for this evening, I won't forget it."