A roleplayer: Shane kept his back to Ilya, still facing the front door, ready to run. He breathed slow, heavy breaths, listening to Ilya from behind him. Just a slip. He tried to reassure. Maybe it was just a slip, but that didn't make it not mean anything. The whole day was far from nothing. Shane shut his eyes, trying and failing to sort through his thoughts, with Ilya behind him, calling him Hollander like it would fix it all- like it would stop the sound of his first name on Ilya's lips from repeating in his head, like it'd erase the memory of Shane replying Ilya like it was a prayer. It didn't fix it, it wouldn't. "No. It's not- I can't do this-" he said again, wondering himself exactly what this was. "It wasn't nothing."

A roleplayer: "Fine. It wasn't nothing," he snapped. "...but you do not have to run away like this...lying about a fucking team meeting in the morning." Ilya knew it had been a reflex of Shane's to lie so that he did not seem like an asshole for leaving so suddenly, and that anything hockey-related was the first thing to enter the other's head amid the swirling thoughts. "Stay, please. You can use the guest room, if you want...." he added, hoping it would at least give him time to make sure Shane was thinking clearly before he left Ilya's house. When Shane still didn't turn around Ilya sighed. "At least change out of my clothes before you leave, yes? I like those sweatpants."

A roleplayer: It wasn't nothing. Strangely, the agreement made him feel a bit better, like part of him had been worried that it meant more to him than it did to Ilya. Maybe he was wrong. He swallowed hard, feeling a bit of guilt at lying to the other, but he couldn't help it. Today had been far more than Shane had bargained for, and it was sending him off the edge, even now with Ilya still asking him to stay. He didn't know if he could, still feeling horribly overwhelmed by the sudden shift between them. He felt frozen until Ilya asked him to change out of his clothes. Right. That was something he could do. They weren't his to take. Slowly, he let out a steadying breath and finally turned, facing Ilya. He glanced over him for a moment before his feet began to move again, carrying him past Ilya and towards the bedroom.

A roleplayer: Ilya's chest tightened when Shane turned to face him. It was such a fleeting glance in his direction but it was more than enough for Ilya to see the sheer panic and the cogs turning behind Shane's dark eye. There was a hint of relief that spread over Shane's face as he moved past Ilya. Ilya closed his eyes after Shane passed. A few minutes for Shane to calm down and change. Good enough. Ilya returned to the living room and gathered their empty plates and trash. Normally, he would have followed Shane and even helped the boy undress, but now it seemed far too intrusive to follow Shane. He wanted to give the man a few quiet minutes to himself out of Ilya's gaze. He deposited the dishes in the sink and threw away the empty soda cans. Leaning against the counter, he ran a hand over the back of his neck, trying and failing to release the tension as he waited for Shane.

A roleplayer: Shane continued to the bedroom in silence. Once inside, he paused, listening for Ilya's footsteps, which he heard return to the living room. Then he heard the sound of their dishes being set in the sink. He breathed a sigh of relief when he knew that Ilya wasn't following him. "Fuck-" he breathed in a whisper, tossing the shirt in his hands onto the bed, followed by the sweatpants before Shane pulled on his own clothes. He took a step towards the doorway. He was dressed in his own clothes. He could leave. But something stopped him short. Instead, he turned and sat on the edge of the bed, attempting to gather his thoughts, calm himself down and figure out exactly why he was panicking. He didn't know exactly how long it had been, but he sat there for a long while before standing suddenly, feeling a bit more steady than before. His feet carried him towards the kitchen without a second thought, rounding the corner and stopping when Ilya was ahead of him. Briefly, the sight of him nearly sent him reeling all over again, but he steeled himself. "Why did you do all of this?" he asked, eyes flitting across his face.

A roleplayer: Ilya started to worry about Shane when the man took too long to change clothes. He hadn't heard any noises from his room, so he assumed Shane was either processing what the day had unveiled or Shane was waiting for him. He had just pushed himself away from the counter when he heard Shane return. He was startled by the question, but more than that, Ilya was startled by how direct the question was. Ilya hesitated before answering. "I wanted..." was it safe to tell the truth? Maybe Ilya should just let Shane leave now that the man was calm. Ilya decided to make another bad decision. "...I wanted more time with you."

A roleplayer: Shane took a slow breath. If he wanted to get this sorted, he couldn't let himself panic. He had to handle it. Even if the idea of Ilya wanting more time with him was driving him insane. Of course, he could brush it off. Ilya wanted more time with him- just to hook up more. He'd said so himself when he first asked Shane to stay, didn't he? That was it. Nothing more. Except he knew that wasn't true. There was more to it. It was planned- "You bought me ginger ale," his thoughts escaped his mouth, briefly leaving their context behind. "You wanted more," it followed. More time. More than sex. What else?

A roleplayer: Ilya had always known that his secret was meant to be a secret. When he'd found Shane years before, he knew it would just be sex, a one-and-done hookup as usual. Then things continued. Then they escalated. He'd always known it would come to this. They would have a good run up to the edge of that cliff of risk they both teetered on before plunging into the end of their years-long situationship. He nodded as Shane continued. "Wanted you to...be comfortable," he swallowed thickly and looked down at his feet. He wanted more. So much more than he should. "Yes. More," he agreed. "...more time, more..." he scrunched up his face and cursed in Russian. It hurt to be this honest with Shane but what did he truly have to lose in the moment? Shane was already wanting to leave. Things were already ending. "More of you...More of...us."

A roleplayer: Fuck. Shane stared openly at Ilya, trying desperately to process what he was hearing from the other. "Us..?" he asked carefully, unable to hide the hint of hope in his voice. In his time working over his thoughts, he'd discovered that he may have panicked because he was afraid of more- of wanting it when Ilya did not. But now, he was hearing that Ilya wanted it too, that he wanted more of them, together, and that was equally as scary as it was relieving. This wasn't who they were. He didn't have a single clue about how to navigate something like this with anyone- let alone with Ilya. All they knew was infrequent text messages and hookups. What were they supposed to do with that?

A roleplayer: Shane was being so careful in his wording, in the tone of his voice, in the way he held himself in Ilya's kitchen. "Yes." Ilya confirmed the parroted question from Shane. "Have wanted to know...many things." Many, many things. Ilya found himself wondering what it might be like to invite Shane to his house instead of a hotel room. He wondered what it would be like to wake up next to the man tangled up in each other's arms. He wondered what it would be like to spend a day with Shane, just the two of them with no expectations from the outside world and no reason to rush away from each other. "Things that are impossible for us to have. Things we should not....I should not want. We both know this can be nothing more than sex, but..." Ilya's voice caught, and he looked away, shaking his head, unable to continue.

A roleplayer: Shane exhaled, his breath unexpectedly shaky. Ilya wanted more. Shane couldn't deny that now, not with what he was saying, how he was sounding just like all of Shane's thoughts- wanting the things he didn't think he was allowed to have, the things that the world wouldn't give to them. "-But you can't help wanting it to be more anyways?" Shane attempted to finish Ilya's thoughts with his own feelings, his voice barely above a whisper. Fuck, they were so screwed. Carefully, Shane ventured farther into the kitchen, approaching Ilya's space. He wanted so badly despite this territory being far more dangerous than before and entirely uncharted. Fuck, he wanted it. He wanted to be with Ilya. He wanted more than sex. He wanted to spend his days with him as well as his nights. He wanted to know him more than he ever had before.

A roleplayer: Ilya's nod was tight and brief. Shane had managed to speak something Ilya had known for some time. They'd stepped off the edge of the cliff and were now quickly careening toward solid ground. There was no going back. There was no pretending any longer. There was no soft place to land. There was only heartbreak and fear and risk and the insurmountable realization that they could both lose everything they'd worked so hard for. More than that, though, Ilya could very well lose his life. Ilya was fine until he heard Shane padding toward him. He closed his eyes quickly as he continued to face away from the other. "Sorry.." he choked out.

A roleplayer: Shane caught Ilya's nod. It was clear that both of them were just as terrified about what this meant for them. There wasn't any way to back track this conversation, and there was bound to be hurt somewhere because of it. But for now, Ilya was pointedly turning away, and Shane couldn't help but chase after him, even if this entire thing would inevitably end badly. "Hey-" Shane spoke softly, reaching his hand towards Ilya's face and gently caressing his cheek before pausing and waiting for a sign that he was allowed to get closer. "Hey.."

A roleplayer: Ilya was gripping the counter so tightly his knuckles were white. Then Shane was standing in front of him, barely an arm's length away and speaking so gently. Ilya was fine, as fine as one could be given the situation, until he felt Shane's hand on his cheek and the gentle swipe of the man's thumb. Fuck. He turned his face to lean into Shane's touch, meeting Shane's eye. It took some effort, but he loosened his grip on the counter and pulled Shane closer, arms wrapping around the man. "We...can't..." his voice shook. "I know that...is too dangerous..is too...everything..." he whispered. "But one day...one fucking day...was all...all I wanted."

A roleplayer: Shane softened even more when Ilya leaned into his touch. He held his gaze, hesitating to get closer, but then Ilya was closing the space for him, wrapping his arms around him. Shane immediately gave in to it, craving the comfort just as much as Ilya was. He wrapped his arms back around the other man, his hands flat against the skin of his back. "I'm sorry-" Shane began, burying his face in the crook of Ilya's neck, "For freaking out," he clarified, holding onto him with a softness previously unknown between them. "Fuck," he cursed against his skin, feeling his eyes threaten tears with a slight sting, his chest aching with want for what they couldn't have. "Maybe- Maybe we can-?" he dared to be hopeful, but it felt like a fantasy the second the words left his mouth, and that only hurt more.

A roleplayer: Ilya clung to Shane, arms wrapped tightly around him, fearing that letting go would allow Shane to leave and him to shatter into pieces. Shane nestled into Ilya's neck and the tension released from Ilya's shoulders. How many times had Ilya yearned for this? How many times had Ilya berated himself for wanting this? Shane cursed, shifted and spoke again. Three words, frightening and timid but hopeful. Three words held so much meaning. They had been so why couldn't they be? Ilya pulled back slightly to be able to look at Shane. He could see the glistening tears still held in the other's eyes. "Is what you want?" he asked.

A roleplayer: Shane held his breath, feeling Ilya pull back to look at him. He'd expected to be shut down. They couldn't have this. Everything was against them. And yet, Ilya was asking if that was what he wanted, like it mattered. He swallowed hard, lifting his head to look back at him. Before he could manage to get the words out, he nodded slowly, bringing his hand to cradle Ilya's face again as his eyes scanned over his expression. "I've wanted that for a long time-" he confessed, even to himself, in a voice barely above a whisper.

A roleplayer: Ilya was used to losing things he cared for. He was used to pouring into everyone around him, only to receive nothing in return. He learned that strength and usefulness provided safety. Weakness provided hurt. This whole conversation had shown Ilya's weakness. Shane understood the impossibility of their situation. Shane understood this was as good as it was ever going to be for them. A few sexual tyrsts a few times a year indefinitely. Ilya was not used to having what he wanted. But standing in his kitchen, arms wrapped around Shane, he watched as Shane nodded, then brushed over his cheek. Ilya once again leaned into Shane's touch. Shane's confession hit him square in the chest. "Me too....Я так сильно этого хочу, что просто с ума схожу (I want it so much it kills me)." He smiled at Shane as they stood together holding each other in his kitchen. "Will be tough...is tough being so far away."

A roleplayer: Shane smiled small, unable to help it, being faced by the idea that maybe they could have something. He thought that maybe Ilya was far less invested in this thing between them than Shane was. Ilya could have anyone, and yet, it seemed clear now that he wanted him despite the trouble it brought with it. Shane knew the feeling, and now, knowing it was reciprocated, it felt good, for once. He let out a sigh, his breath finally far more steady now than it had been since his spiral on the sofa. He felt more balanced, huffing a short laugh, "It's already tough," he admitted, sliding his hand from Ilya's cheek and into his hair before leaning in to press his forehead to Ilya's. "I miss you all the fucking time."

A roleplayer: Ilya's eyes closed as Shane brought their forehead's together. Something of a happy groan slipped when he felt Shane's fingers in his hair. He loved when Shane played with his hair. He loved when Shane pressed their foreheads together. He loved Shane. Ilya had known for a very long time that he had fallen for Shane and today was the first bit of evidence Ilya had been given that Shane may just be falling for him as well. "I miss you all the fucking time too." he mirrored. "How did we let this happen, Hollander? Fucking as arch rivals...missing each other...crying in my kitchen...what is wrong with us?"

A roleplayer: Shane closed his eyes too, running his fingers through Ilya's hair and feeling encouraged by the groan he got out of the other, the sound making his heart swell. Fuck, he was so gone for Ilya. He was sure he had been for a long time, whether he acknowledged it or not. He smiled still at Ilya's reciprocated confession, then even wider at Ilya's question. "We were very stupid and irresponsible.. I think we fucked up-" he commented light-heartedly and laughed gently, nudging his nose against Ilya's. He paused for a moment, thinking over Ilya's words before speaking again, "I don't regret any of it... Ilya," he confessed, his name leaving his mouth just as it had on the sofa, soft, like a prayer.

A roleplayer: Ilya chuckled. Yes, they certainly had fucked up and made some terrible choices over and over again. They had fucked up and caught feelings. They had fucked up and fucked too much. Ilya stilled in Shane's arms when Shane said his name again. It was soft but determined. Ilya waited to see if Shane had meant to use it or if he had slipped again and would start panicking. But Shane didn't pull away from him. There was no hurried lie tossed into the silence between them. Shane wasn't running toward the front door again. "Neither do I, Shane." He waited, testing the waters with the man's first name. Shane remained firmly against him. They'd entered a new phase in their relationship. "Not much will change but still....it feels like...everything has changed...."

A roleplayer: Shane felt relief rush over him when he heard his name on Ilya's tongue again. He nodded slightly in agreement, then slowly pulled back to look at the other. Even if they couldn't truly change how much they saw one another, everything had certainly changed between them. "I won't let it freak me out again-" Shane joked carefully, suddenly craving the change instead of fearing it, all of the things he'd been wanting for years, but he didn't want to overwhelm Ilya either. "We can.. Be slow?" he suggested, glancing over his face, "Maybe just make a little more time when we see each other? A day like this every now and then.."

A roleplayer: Ilya hummed. "Slow..." he considered the option. "We have not gone slow enough for you already?"He quipped. "A few years before I could kiss you. A few years before I could fuck you. A few years until you're my boyfriend." He couldn't stop himself from feeling a bit giddy at everything and the future that lay ahead of them. "Yes, I like having more time. Sometimes is nice to not...rush. Though you are always so needy." Ilya closed the distance between them to press a kiss against Shane's lips. "As long as those days do not include you running away, yes. I know you will panic. It is in your DNA, I think."

A roleplayer: Shane rolled his eyes at Ilya's quip, but found himself feeling unexpectedly fond as Ilya continued on, his mind especially catching on the word boyfriend. Just the idea of it made his heart race, "Boyfriend..?" he couldn't help but repeat it aloud. Fuck, he wanted that. He couldn't stop smiling, laughing gently into the kiss as he was teased. "Shut up-" he groaned playfully, kissing him again and accidentally proving him right in calling him needy. When he pulled away, he was still smiling, feeling like he was practically floating. "I'll probably panic, but I promise I'll try not to run away," he told him, feeling undeniably loved and known by the other.

A roleplayer: "No." Ilya refused to stop teasing Shane because he craved the man's laugh and his happiness. "Can not tell me to shut up if it is true." Ilya nodded at Shane's promise. "I will try to be more...direct. Asking you to stay because I wanted us to have more time. Buying your ginger ale and feeding you because it is what I do. I like to...take care of you. Would like to take care of you in more ways than just sex...even though that is probably best way. You go all mumbly and you blush under your freckles." Ilya pushed off of the counter and walked them back toward the living room. "Is boyfriend what you want?" He asked, tugging Shane down with him on the sofa so they could stretch out together and relax. "Or am I just your sexy secret Russian?"