They finished dinner in near silence.
Egor barely touched his food.
Klaus kept looking at him—openly, steadily—and the attention made his pulse race and heat crawl up his neck.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Egor finally snapped.
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Just… not like you usually do."
Klaus didn't look away.
"I'm trying to figure something out."
He poured the last of the wine into their glasses.
"You done?"
"Yeah," Egor said quickly. "I just want to see what this 'second part' is."
Instead of heading for the exit, Klaus turned toward the reception desk.
"Send another bottle of wine to room 112."
"Of course. Anything else?"
Klaus glanced at Egor.
"You need anything?"
"N-no."
"Just the wine."
He turned.
"Come on."
"You got a room?" Egor asked as they reached the stairs.
"Yeah. We've never really been alone, have we?" Klaus said. "Even at my uncle's place, someone was always watching. Thought we could fix that. Just sit. Talk. No interruptions."
The room was simple.
Clean.
One bed.
Egor hesitated in the doorway.
The wine arrived.
Klaus poured it, dropped into the armchair like he owned the place, and watched him.
"You don't like it?" he asked.
"No—no, it's great."
"Then why are you still standing there?" Klaus tilted his head. "You scared of me?"
Egor let out a short, nervous laugh.
"Yeah. Right."
He stepped in anyway and sat on the bed, taking the glass.
Silence settled.
At first, it pressed in.
Then—
it loosened.
It felt… right.
Just the two of them.
No one watching.
No interruptions.
His feelings didn't fade.
They sharpened.
Egor set his glass aside and stood.
Klaus watched him—every step—as he crossed the room and took the glass from his hand too.
"And now?" Klaus asked quietly.
Egor hesitated.
Just for a second.
"Do you know what else people do on dates?"
"Go on."
Egor leaned in.
"They kiss."
Klaus's gaze dropped to his lips.
That alone made Egor's breath hitch.
He couldn't move.
So Klaus did.
His hand slid to the back of Egor's head, pulling him in.
The first kiss was slow.
Measured.
A test.
Egor didn't pull away.
That was enough.
Klaus deepened it immediately.
His grip tightened at Egor's waist, dragging him closer.
Egor lost his balance and half-fell into him, catching himself awkwardly, knee braced between Klaus's legs.
Klaus pulled him in tighter.
Didn't let go.
Didn't break the kiss.
Egor couldn't think.
Couldn't stop.
Shock. Heat. Something sharp and overwhelming all at once.
He needed this to be real.
His hand moved—shaky—to Klaus's chest.
"Still want to stop?" Klaus murmured against his lips.
"…Do you?"
He wasn't sure he wanted the answer.
Klaus exhaled quietly.
"You tell me."
His gaze dropped.
Egor followed it—
—and froze.
Klaus was hard.
Fully.
Pressed right against him.
Heat flooded his face.
"That's… because of me?"
Klaus huffed.
"Unless there's someone else in here I've been kissing."
Egor tried to speak—
Klaus kissed him again.
Harder.
This time there was no hesitation.
His hand slipped under Egor's shirt, fingers brushing bare skin.
Egor shuddered.
Klaus didn't slow down.
His mouth moved—jaw, throat—
as he stood and pushed Egor back toward the bed.
"Last chance," he said, hovering over him. "You sure this is what you want?"
"Yes."
No hesitation now.
None.
Klaus pulled his shirt off.
Egor's hands moved before he could think—fingers tracing his chest.
Klaus's muscles tightened instantly under the touch.
"Can I?" Egor asked, barely above a whisper.
"Right now?" Klaus said, voice low. "You can do whatever you want."
That was all it took.
Egor leaned in—tentative at first.
Lips against skin.
Klaus sucked in a sharp breath.
That reaction—
was enough.
Confidence replaced hesitation.
Egor pushed him down onto the bed, following, kissing lower, slower, figuring it out as he went.
Every reaction—
every breath—
every shift—
fed into it.
His hands stopped shaking.
He worked Klaus's belt loose.
Pulled his pants down.
And then—
he saw.
Hard.
Fully.
Waiting.
And realized—
he was already leaking himself.
The realization hit hard.
Embarrassing.
Didn't stop him.
He reached out—
Klaus caught his wrist.
"You sure?"
Egor looked up.
Klaus's hair was a mess.
Breathing uneven.
Eyes dark.
He wanted this too.
"Yeah," Egor said. "I'm sure."
That was enough.
Klaus didn't rush.
He adjusted slowly, giving Egor time—watching every reaction, every shift in his expression.
Egor's breathing was uneven, shallow at first. His fingers tightened in the sheets.
"Relax," Klaus murmured, close to his ear, voice low. "You're fine."
It wasn't just an order.
It was… something else.
Egor forced himself to breathe. To stop fighting it.
Little by little, the tension in his body eased.
Klaus waited.
Only when he felt it—when Egor stopped resisting—did he move again.
Slow.
Measured.
Testing.
Egor flinched at first—but it wasn't pain. Not exactly. Something unfamiliar, overwhelming.
"Still okay?" Klaus asked quietly.
"…Yeah," Egor managed. "Just—don't stop."
That was all it took.
Klaus's control slipped.
Not completely—but enough.
His grip tightened. His pace changed. Not reckless—but no longer restrained.
Egor's breath broke apart, uneven, catching on every movement.
He didn't understand what he was feeling anymore—only that it was too much and not enough at the same time.
His hand found Klaus's wrist, holding onto it—not to stop him.
To anchor himself.
The room blurred into sensation—heat, pressure, the sound of breath and quiet, broken voices.
And then—
everything snapped.
Egor's body gave out first. Tension broke all at once, leaving him shaking, barely able to hold himself up.
Klaus followed a moment later, his breath rough, uneven as he stilled.
For a few seconds—
neither of them moved.
Then Klaus shifted, lowering himself beside him.
Without thinking, he pulled Egor closer.
Held him there.
Tight.
Closer than he ever held anyone.
Egor didn't resist.
Didn't even question it.
He just let himself sink into it—into the warmth, the weight, the quiet after everything.
Klaus stared at nothing.
At the ceiling. At the wall. Somewhere past it.
His arm tightened around Egor slightly.
That—
was the problem.
Not what just happened.
But this.
This need to keep him there.
This unwillingness to let go.
He'd crossed a line.
And there was no going back.
"I'm… a mess," Egor muttered, voice muffled, trying to pull away slightly.
Klaus didn't let him.
"So am I," he said quietly.
He tilted his head just enough to press a brief kiss to Egor's forehead.
"How do you feel?"
Egor hesitated.
"…Embarrassed," he admitted.
Klaus huffed a quiet breath—something almost like a laugh.
"Good," he said. "That means you're still thinking."
Eventually, he let him go.
Egor rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling for a second before pushing himself up.
He winced.
Klaus noticed immediately.
"Does it hurt?"
"I'm fine," Egor said, glancing back at him with a small, tired smile. "Better than I expected."
Klaus watched him for a second longer than necessary.
Then looked away.
He stood, grabbed a cigarette, and moved to the window—barefoot, careless, like none of this had changed anything.
But it had.
He lit it, inhaled slowly, letting the smoke settle his thoughts.
It didn't help.
Behind him, Egor pushed himself to his feet more carefully this time.
"I'm taking the shower first," he said.
Klaus nodded without turning.
"Go."
Egor paused for a second.
Looked at him.
At his back. At the way he stood there, distant again—almost like before.
Almost.
Then he turned and walked to the bathroom.
Klaus exhaled slowly, smoke curling in the dim light.
This wasn't supposed to happen.
Not like this.
Not now.
And yet—
he didn't regret it.
Not even a little.
That was the real problem.