Oleg smiles, sending the last message, and sets the phone aside with a heavy exhale, finally feeling incredible relief. It worked.
His most desperate and risky move in this game had finally paid off and forced Vlad to make the main move. Cherevaty texted him first, dropping all formalities, and that was exactly what Sheps had been waiting for.
After Vlad's words—which, in the professor's opinion, were supposed to end everything between them—Oleg had absolutely no idea what to do.
He understood that after the accusation situation and the long-awaited reinstatement, Cherevaty would need time to recover and, at least slightly, stop being afraid. Any interaction between them in Vlad's eyes would now surely look like another sentence, and Sheps realized that getting rid of this association would be practically impossible.
Oleg went over everything in his head. He remembered, analyzed, and at one point understood: that part of Cherevaty, the one that broke off its chain even in moments of absolute despair, was the only thing stronger than fear.
And that was exactly what Sheps had placed his biggest bet on when he disappeared for three weeks.
He sincerely hoped that the beast, locked back in its cage after already tasting freedom, would fight with all its might to get out. And Sheps no longer doubted that he was that freedom for Vlad.
After a few days, Sheps got scared. Stupid paranoia seized all his thoughts, forcing him to replay the most horrible scenario in his head over and over—the one where Cherevaty would never cross that thin line again and would take away his only chance to feel anything, because, in this separation, Oleg felt completely like a walking corpse.
Things that used to spark his interest suddenly stopped bringing even the faintest emotions. Sheps would scan the crowd in the dim light of another bar with a lost gaze and, over Artem's casual chatter, realized that not a single person in the room caught his interest. Boring, identical dolls, with no hint of anything inside, even remotely resembling a strong and unpredictable personality.
But that wasn't what scared Oleg. Not the fact that he couldn't find anything interesting, but that he simply lost the desire to look, because an obnoxious inner voice insisted that it would never get more vivid than that. And this slowly drove Sheps to quiet hysterics, forcing him to fear only one thing—that Vlad's obsession would turn out to be weaker than his own.
Levin's call was the first breath of air in this emotional vacuum. Oleg heard the tournament lineup and, it seems, for the first time in a week and a half, saw a glimmer of hope: Cherevaty had consciously agreed to go somewhere they would have to meet anyway, and in an informal setting no less.
For the rest of the time before Faculty Day, Sheps was interested in only one thing: what exactly pushed the professor to agree to the tournament—pool, or the name of his main rival.
Oleg understood the answer to his question in one second, the moment he caught the instantly ignited gaze of those dark eyes at their first meeting after that conversation. Nothing had changed, and Vlad's words, which had supposedly ended their game three weeks ago, shattered to pieces on the tiled floor right in the faculty hall: from somewhere in the dark brown depths, a starved beast was staring at Sheps with the same wild hunger.
And that same evening, Oleg released it without much effort, merely pulling lightly on the door of the impossibly flimsy cage.
──── ♛ ♙ ♛ ────
"Looks like Faculty Day was fun," Ilya laughs, finding his friend half-reclining on a bench in a remote part of the park.
Cherevaty winces wearily, once again pressing the cold water bottle to his temple, and greets Larionov quietly. He didn't drink that much yesterday, but the almost sleepless night took its toll: Vlad barely got out of bed and cursed the idea of today's walk the entire way to the meeting spot.
He desperately wanted to sleep, but the same dream tormented Cherevaty until morning, giving him no chance to rest after the extremely intense day. Damn Sheps and his behavior yesterday simply detonated his subconscious, seemingly opening a true Pandora's box of the most explicit fantasies in his head.
Vlad woke up every twenty minutes, desperately trying to beat back the painful arousal with ice-cold water, and collapsed back onto the bed, exhausted. He would close his eyes, quickly sinking into sleep from fatigue, and dive right back into his madness.
Damp skin, burning from his bites; tightly bound hands; lips impossibly swollen from his rough kisses; loud moans turning into screams, and a trembling, melting body. Oleg. Beneath him. On top of him. On his knees. And in about ten other different positions, but always with that killer combination of his brazen smirk and the crazy look of those not-so-light eyes, which begged him not to stop.
Cherevaty still remembers every frame. He only has to close his eyelids for a few seconds, and he sees bright flashes of different fragments of his dreams even now, sitting next to Ilya. Vlad is slowly going insane and doesn't know how to save himself, because he understands: he likes this to the point of impossibility.
"How's work? Settling back in?" Larionov asks sincerely, because he had been worried all this time about how his colleagues would react to Cherevaty's return, and his friend was in no hurry to share any news.
"Yeah. Yesterday, I think I even fully restored my authority," Vlad shrugs calmly and, noticing the interested look, clarifies: "I won the pool cup against the students."
"O-ho-ho, our wild youth wasn't for nothing!" Ilya chuckles. "Well, at least now I can console myself that I was losing to the champion."
Cherevaty joins in the laughter, but his head starts splitting again, and he closes his eyes, rubbing his forehead slightly.
"I had a client the other day," Larionov begins, noticing his state. "Came in with a wild hangover..."
Vlad listens to his friend's story with relief, glad he doesn't have to strain himself and talk, when he is suddenly distracted by a notification sound. He leisurely pulls his phone from his pocket and, barely noticing the sender's name, instinctively angles the screen away from Ilya.
Oleg Sheps
Send me the lectures. I missed 3 weeks because of you, after all haha
Cherevaty smirks barely noticeably, reading the message, and types a reply without delay.
Vladik
I'll send them tonight. Busy.
Oleg Sheps
And what are professors busy with on a Saturday? Aren't you just sitting at home prepping boring topics? :)
Vladik
You of all people should know students don't listen to them anyway.
Oleg Sheps
Can't argue with that. Personally, I have more interesting things to do in your class ;)
Vlad sighs heavily and instinctively bites his lip, because his mind immediately flashes to that devouring gaze, watching him intently from the back rows of the auditorium. A few seconds later, he puts the phone away, unable to find a reply, and realizes that Ilya has apparently finished his story and is now looking at him with interest, a brow slightly arched.
"A colleague is asking if I've recovered from yesterday's party," Cherevaty lies confidently, not waiting for the obvious question.
His position hasn't changed at all since their last conversation: Vlad has no intention of discussing his relationship with Oleg with Ilya or anyone else. First, because he doesn't know what to say, and second, because he doesn't want to analyze it anymore. And it seems he no longer wants to find a way to stop this crazy game at all, because today, despite the awful state of his body, for the first time in three weeks, he feels normal, without the obsessive desire to destroy everything around him.
"Figured as much," Larionov nods understandingly and accepts this blatant lie.
You don't react to colleagues like that. You don't drop out of a conversation, digging into the screen with burning eyes, and you certainly don't give yourself away with the obvious signs of slight arousal that Ilya couldn't fail to notice. He understands perfectly well who Vlad was texting, and now he is absolutely convinced that Cherevaty is in this completely consciously, seeing as he lies so calmly to his face, protecting his personal life, whatever it may be.
──── ♛ ♙ ♛ ────
"I wonder if summer is ever gonna happen?" Artem grumbles discontentedly, ducking under the canopy of the smoking spot to escape the nasty drizzle.
He pulls his jacket tighter, trying to hide from the piercing wind, and can barely believe it's already the end of May.
"What, you're that excited for the exam period?" Sheps chuckles. "I'd rather put up with more snow than this pain in the ass."
"Like you're gonna be stressing much," Krasnov rolls his eyes, knowing that of all people, exams definitely don't scare Oleg. "Who do you even need to pass? The old hag, Vika, and Vladik? The rest have never turned down cash, as far as I know."
Sheps sighs heavily, thinking about the problems ahead. Basically, he really only needs to pass three subjects, but those are the very exams he'd like to take the least.
Oleg can hardly imagine how to get even a 'C' from Shevchenko. The professor clearly doesn't like him—then again, she doesn't like anyone else—and will be brutal. Even the straight-A students are bound to have problems with her.
Raidos, of course, will be objective and fair in her grading, but Sheps doesn't even want to glimpse her in the corridors, let alone the closer interaction the exam process entails. Actually, Oleg was extremely surprised that in the three weeks he hadn't shown up for classes, Vika hadn't ratted him out to his brother.
He flinched at every unexpected ring of the doorbell and exhaled in relief when he looked through the peephole and didn't see Sasha. It was stupid to think he wouldn't have just used his own key, but you can't convince paranoia of that. Oleg sincerely wants to believe that after their last conversation, he'll never have to look into those hated eyes again, even though he knows that's not possible and that sooner or later Sasha will show up to reproach him for living his life wrong again.
As for the Statistics exam, Sheps has absolutely no clue. Vlad is too unpredictable in his reactions, and Oleg thinks he's caught that quality from him.
He himself starts to act instinctively around Cherevaty, without time to think, and, although he successfully hits the mark with his every action, in most cases, he doesn't make any plans anymore. They both no longer understand what they are doing, so Sheps doesn't have a single guess as to how the exam will go. The only thing Oleg is sure of is that it definitely won't be quiet.
"Like you're gonna pass everything legit," Sheps replies in the same tone after a short pause. "But it's still a hassle. That's why waiting for summer when you're a student is weird-ass logic."
"Well, I have one more reason for it," Artem breaks into a sly smirk, exhaling cigarette smoke in Oleg's direction. "From what I see, you're not trying very hard to keep your car..."
Sheps frowns slightly, not immediately understanding what he's talking about, but almost instantly returns to an indifferent expression. In this whole whirlwind of events, he had completely forgotten about their bet.
"The day's not over yet," Oleg answers calmly and, throwing away his finished cigarette, slowly heads to the faculty, preparing to listen to a long tirade from Shevchenko about his previous absences.
──── ♛ ♙ ♛ ────
Vlad manages to get a decent sleep on Sunday, and on Monday, he drives to the faculty feeling quite refreshed. The lack of a first period in his schedule added an extra hour of sleep, and Cherevaty even decides not to stop for coffee, heading straight for the staff room.
"Good morning, Victoria," he greets her cheerfully, but immediately notices his colleague's tired appearance.
Raidos sits at her desk, rubbing her temples slightly with her hands, struggling to read the teaching guide as the letters blur. Her head has been hurting since morning, a low ringing in her ears, and Victoria already regrets not agreeing to stay home today, as her husband caringly suggested.
"Morning, Vladislav," she answers quietly, sighing. "Horrible weather..."
"Tell me about it... Not the spring we were hoping for," Cherevaty keeps up the small talk, sitting down at his desk, but still frowns, throwing another glance at Raidos. "Are you feeling unwell?"
"Pressure, probably," she shrugs, and feels a nasty pain shoot through the back of her neck at the gesture. "Could you get me some water, please?.."
Vlad immediately stands up, walking quickly to the water cooler, and genuinely sympathizes with Victoria. It will clearly be difficult for her to teach in this condition.
"Maybe you should lie down?" he suggests without turning around, and glances at the clock. "There's still almost half an hour until class."
No answer follows, and just a couple of seconds later, Cherevaty hears a dull thud behind him. Turning his head, he immediately rushes to Raidos, who is lying on the floor.
She doesn't come to even after Vlad carefully lays her on the sofa in the room, and Cherevaty panics, trying to figure out what to do. Calling an ambulance is, of course, the first thing that comes to mind, but the traffic jam he saw near the faculty ten minutes ago would hardly let doctors get here quickly. A taxi—even longer. The familiar car, which Vlad just saw parked right at the entrance, instantly flashes in his mind, and it seems to him that this driver could definitely get here fast, not giving a damn about any fines.
Oleg raises his eyebrows in astonishment, pulling his vibrating phone from his pocket. Cherevaty's name flashes on the screen. For the first time. In the middle of class. Sheps is almost certain Vlad dialed him by accident, but he slides down in his chair anyway, discreetly hiding under the desk from Shevchenko, who has fortunately turned to the board, and answers the call.
"You're at the faculty, right?" Cherevaty asks without preamble.
His voice sounds frantic, and Oleg frowns slightly, answering in a quiet whisper:
"Yeah, I'm in class."
"Grab your things—and run to the staff room."
"What happened?" Sheps really doesn't like his tone.
"Run, I said!" Vlad shouts, and immediately hangs up.
Oleg flinches at the phrase but doesn't dare to disobey: Vlad would hardly call him without a serious reason and talk like that. Under Artem's surprised gaze, Sheps abruptly grabs his bag and, stuffing his notebook into it on the move, walks quickly out of the auditorium, ignoring the indignant shouts of Shevchenko, who finally noticed him.
Oleg bursts into the staff room on autopilot without knocking and freezes in the doorway, his frightened gaze fixed on the unconscious Raidos.
"What's wrong with her?.." he asks, almost in a whisper, and Vlad, throwing a quick glance at him, immediately lifts the woman into his arms.
"Help me take her to the hospital."
Sheps looks hunted, swallows nervously, and feels panic rising inside him. The last thing he wanted right now was to be here and be involved in this situation in any way, because if something happens to Vika while he's nearby, Sasha will simply kill him.
"Oleg!" He flinches at the stern voice, looking up at Cherevaty with lost eyes. "Let's go!"
Sheps nods like on autopilot, silently holds the door open, helping Vlad into the corridor, and follows him in a daze, taking several deep breaths in an attempt to pull himself together so he can at least drive properly.
While Cherevaty settles Raidos in the back seat, Oleg starts the engine but doesn't dare to move, even when Vlad gets into the passenger seat next to him.
"What's wrong with you?" Cherevaty asks, frowning, noting that he has never seen Sheps like this.
"Nothing," Oleg snaps, gripping the steering wheel tighter, and slowly starts to get angry that he apparently can't hide his idiotic weakness.
"Can you drive?"
Vlad keeps his tense gaze on him, while Sheps drills his eyes into the dashboard.
"Yes."
"Your hands are shaking..."
Cherevaty is just stating a fact, but it works perfectly: Oleg explodes with anger, unwilling to look so vulnerable in front of Vlad for another second, and instantly gets rid of the fear. The car tears off, and Sheps focuses on the road, trying not to think about anything else.
Vlad, on the other hand, sinks into his thoughts. What is the relationship between Oleg and Victoria? Who are they to each other? Vlad runs through fragments of memories in his head and really doesn't want to draw the conclusion that suggests itself.
They are on a first-name basis, know something personal about each other, argue, clearly dislike each other, but Raidos still defends Sheps, trying to justify him to Cherevaty, while Oleg freezes in fear upon finding her in danger.
Vlad sighs heavily and fixes his eyes on the windshield, trying to focus on the traffic, because he doesn't want to feel the nasty feeling rising from deep inside. Because it's bad timing and, it seems, even scary. Cherevaty has already come to terms with the fact that he wants Sheps, but he is completely unprepared to be jealous of him.
In the hospital, Oleg's fear returns with new force. And while Cherevaty sits calmly, waiting for the doctor's verdict, Sheps paces the corridor, constantly looking around, terrified of running into his brother here, even though he knows perfectly well that Sasha couldn't possibly know what happened yet.
"Are you the ones who brought Victoria in?" The doctor finally appears from the door, and Vlad immediately gets to his feet, taking a step toward him.
"Yes. Is she okay?"
"Her condition has stabilized, but she'll remain in the hospital for now. And you are her... sorry...?"
"A colleague," Cherevaty answers calmly.
The doctor throws a quick glance at Oleg standing nearby and turns back to Vlad:
"Can you contact someone from her family?"
"I..."
Cherevaty shrugs, already mentally calculating if the Dean's office has Raidos's family information, but suddenly falls silent as Sheps steps closer and interrupts him in a confident tone:
"We can."
The doctor nods in satisfaction and quickly bids them both goodbye, heading off to his patients, while Oleg doesn't know what to say or how, so he won't have to explain anything to Vlad.
The pause drags on, but Cherevaty just watches him expectantly, waiting for details. But Sheps, stealing hesitant glances at him, sees something else in the dark eyes besides curiosity, but he is in absolutely no state to analyze someone else's feelings right now. He's struggling not to drown in his own.
"I have her husband's number," Oleg finally says, his eyes darting to the floor. "But... you call him."
"Why?" Vlad raises his eyebrows in surprise, and notes of irritation are audible in his voice.
"And don't tell him I was here," Sheps continues, ignoring his question.
"Why?"
Cherevaty repeats, pressing him this time, and Sheps finally looks up at him. Vlad is looking at him venomously, head tilted slightly, and stands with his arms crossed over his chest, because nothing Sheps says refutes the theory he built in his head on the way to the hospital.
And Oleg is pissed off by these questions. He wants to escape from here as soon as possible, forget this like a nightmare, and hope Vika will be okay, and Sasha will never find out who really brought her here.
"I asked a question," Cherevaty insists, seeing that Sheps is in no hurry to answer.
"We're not in class, I don't have to answer you," Oleg snaps angrily. "Can you just do as I ask?"
"Are you asking?"
Vlad narrows his eyes slightly, staring intently at the student, and suddenly Sheps exhales heavily, visibly deflating, like all the air has gone out of him. The look in his light eyes changes, becoming almost pleading, and Sheps, it seems, for the first time stands before him with all masks dropped.
"Vlad, please," Oleg asks quietly, "just do as I ask."
Cherevaty is thrown off by this sincerity and even forgets that he was just angry—at him, at Victoria, or at himself.
"Send me the number," he finally gives in, and Sheps nods gratefully, texting him his brother's phone number and immediately heading for the exit.
──── ♛ ♙ ♛ ────
After Vlad's call, Sasha bolts from his negotiations without a second thought and bursts into the hospital building half an hour later, where Cherevaty meets him in the lobby.
"What's wrong with her?" Sheps asks instead of a greeting.
Vlad hadn't had time to explain anything over the phone, because after the phrase "Victoria is in the hospital," Sasha immediately cut him off, asking for the address, and then simply hung up. Cherevaty retells everything that happened, changing only one detail: he says he brought Raidos by taxi.
Sheps exhales noticeably upon hearing that Vika's condition has stabilized, and finally offers Vlad his hand:
"Thank you."
In any other situation, he would certainly have offered the savior of his wife any service and left his business card, but Sasha looks at the guy in front of him and thinks only one thing: now they're even.
"Here's her doctor, by the way," Cherevaty says, shaking the outstretched hand and nodding toward the doctor who just appeared in the lobby. Sasha immediately heads toward him.
Vlad glances at his watch and realizes that now he can return to the faculty with a clear conscience. He had already managed to inform the Dean's office about what happened and sincerely hoped that one of his colleagues was able to cover his two missed classes. Cherevaty turns toward the exit and suddenly freezes, hearing a familiar surname behind him.
"Sheps, Alexander Olegovich, Victoria's husband," Sasha introduces himself to the doctor. "How can I see her?"
Vlad turns around in amazement and stares at the man, trying to understand who is standing in front of him. He doesn't believe for a second that he and Oleg just share a surname.
"Unfortunately, you can't see her just yet, but..." the doctor answers calmly, but frowns when he is immediately interrupted.
"But you don't seem to understand me," Sheps says in a perfectly polite but insistent tone, glancing at the "Head of Department" badge on the white coat. "Let's not waste your time or mine. I assume your department doesn't have the newest equipment, but you and I can discuss how to fix that, if I see my wife right now."
The doctor squints thoughtfully, looking over the expensive suit, and, noticing the Rolex on the man's wrist and the Porsche key fob in his hands, apparently gives in.
"This way," he nods in agreement. "Don't worry, both Victoria and the baby are perfectly fine. We took some tests..."
The voices fade as the men walk away, and Cherevaty sighs deeply, heading for the exit after all. He gets back to the faculty twenty minutes before his next class and goes straight to the Dean's office, but not primarily to relay details to Basharov.
"Sonechka, I have a favor to ask," Vlad leans on the counter after a brief conversation with the Dean, leaning slightly toward Egorova. "Can you get me Oleg Sheps's personal file?"
"Want to arm yourself with knowledge before the exam?" the girl smiles understandingly.
"I want to know who I'm fighting," Cherevaty smirks slyly, sincerely hoping Sonya will meet him halfway.
"Technically, I'm not allowed to give it to you," she purses her lips guiltily. "But if you're interested in something specific..."
"His patronymic," Vlad answers instantly.
"I can tell you that without the file," Egorova breaks into a smile again, and Cherevaty freezes for a second, waiting for the answer. "He's Olegovich."
"Thanks," Vlad thanks her without looking back and heads to class, deciding to think about this later.
On the way home, he dives headfirst into his reflections, trying to sort out everything he learned today. Apparently, Alexander is Oleg's older brother, which means Victoria is his sister-in-law. A family drama? Definitely. But what is going on between those three?
Cherevaty really doesn't want to feed the jealousy that suddenly woke up this morning, and he desperately tries to develop a more interesting line of thought. Even if Sheps, for whatever reason, didn't want to advertise that he helped take Raidos to the hospital, he could have just informed his brother of the fact under any pretext: he saw it by chance or, failing that, heard the news at the faculty.
But instead, Oleg wanted to avoid talking to Alexander so badly that he stooped to a sincere request. Despite everything that had happened before, calling his brother was scarier for him than showing his maximum vulnerability and, most surprisingly, trusting Vlad.
Cherevaty, it seems, didn't even realize at what point this trust appeared in their relationship, on both sides. In a not-so-long period, they managed to appear before each other in the most varied states, and for some reason, Vlad is most captivated by the Sheps he has seen the least. The one Ilya told him about. The one who, it seems, actually knows how to feel. Because Cherevaty himself is already feeling too much and really doesn't want to drown in it alone.
Toward evening, he distracts himself with work, but Oleg still stubbornly refuses to leave his thoughts. Vlad doesn't know why he's doing it, but eventually gives in and dials Sheps's number.
"What, need my driver services again?" A smirk is audible in Oleg's voice, and Cherevaty involuntarily smiles at this familiar audacity.
"And what, would you agree again?"
Sheps takes a drag on his cigarette, shivering from the evening cold on the open balcony, and feels the fear that has been haunting him since morning slowly retreat. Either he is calmed by the opportunity to jump back into the game and stop thinking about Sasha potentially appearing in his apartment at any moment, or it's just Vlad. He called him again, himself, for some reason, and Oleg really wants there to be no objective reason for it.
"I'd agree to a lot of things." Sheps lowers his tone, instantly making Cherevaty lick his lips. "You just don't offer."
Vlad gets lost in his reaction and instinctively starts to get angry that Oleg manages to affect him so much, even from dozens of miles away, just with his damn voice, which once again starts a swarm of the dirtiest thoughts in his head.
"Is Raidos's husband your older brother?" Cherevaty decides the best defense is a good offense, and Sheps frowns at the unexpected question.
"What makes you think that?"
"I heard the surname."
"Then why are you asking?" Oleg's tone changes, becoming slightly irritated.
"I want to understand why you're so afraid of him..." Vlad answers honestly, but doesn't hold out much hope for an equally honest answer, and is proven right almost immediately.
"It's none of your business," Sheps cuts him off coldly.
He wants to say something else, but his finger hangs up on its own, and Oleg angrily slams his fist into the concrete wall. Cherevaty had pulled him out of his stupid paranoia for just a minute with his call, only to push him right back in. And only the quiet "I want to understand" echoes in his ears, keeping Sheps from drowning completely in himself, because he hasn't heard that phrase, not even from Artem, in a very long time.
──── ♛ ♙ ♛ ────
Oleg's guardedness is pissing Vlad off. Sheps shuts down any attempt to talk about anything personal time and time again, and Cherevaty absolutely hates these unequal terms. Oleg reads him like an open book, easily manipulating his emotions, but gives him zero chance to learn anything about him. And Vlad knows he should just keep playing the match, calmly moving the pieces according to the rules, but for some reason, he desperately wants to be sure that somewhere, beyond the board, something else exists. Something that won't let them just go their separate ways when the game finally ends.
Lost in thought, Cherevaty walks up the steps and bumps into a stepladder on the porch, almost knocking Kolya off it.
"Vladislav Vitalievich!" the guard shouts in surprise. "You could kill a guy like that!"
"I'm so sorry," Vlad says, genuinely startled, looking up at him. "I was lost in thought..."
"Don't worry, I get it," Kolya chuckles kindly. "Everyone walks around this stressed before exams. But hey, vacation gets closer every day!"
Cherevaty breaks into a smile, infected by his positivity, but he really doesn't want to think about vacation. Without work and without Sheps, he'd probably go completely insane.
Wishing the guard a good day, Vlad carefully squeezes through the door and suddenly frowns, hearing Kolya's quiet muttering: "Damn these cameras... Who even needs them?.."
The professor turns, finally noticing what the man is doing, and immediately recalls the situation with his accusation. Was there something on the cameras that could have destroyed him? Almost certainly. Cherevaty hadn't thought about this before, but now only one question surfaces in his mind: what exactly saved him—incredible luck, or a well-thought-out plan?
During the lecture, Oleg looks lost. They keep meeting each other's gaze, and Vlad doesn't see the usual fire in those light eyes, having absolutely no idea what is going on with the student.
But Sheps is terribly sleep-deprived. He spent half the night digging through his thoughts, trying to convince himself that everything was fine and that the situation with Vika was resolved safely, but he was still afraid of something.
He never found out if Cherevaty met his brother or what Vlad knows at all. Oleg hadn't considered that Raidos, and now possibly Sasha, could have said anything about him. Told their versions of any events, painting him as a consummate egoist. But for some reason, Sheps really doesn't want to be that way in Cherevaty's eyes.
Whose side would Vlad take if he found out about the old scandal? Would he believe him or turn away, like everyone else, leaving him completely alone? Oleg is terrified of this stupid dependency, because it seems, for the first time in his life, he actually gives a damn about someone else's opinion. And he's also terrified because he has absolutely no idea what to do or how to act. He is equally afraid of letting Cherevaty get too close and of pushing him away for good.
The lecture drags on unbearably long, and as soon as the bell rings from the corridor, Sheps is the first to dash down the auditorium steps, to finally get out of the stuffy room and smoke, hoping to somehow sort out the chaos in his head.
"Sheps, stay behind, please." The professor's voice stops him almost at the door, and Oleg sighs heavily, closing his eyes.
He stands by the desk, his eyes darting to the floor, and desperately wants to hope that Vlad won't continue yesterday's conversation, but he realizes he was wrong as soon as the last student disappears out the door.
"So, you're allowed to butt into my life, but I'm not allowed into yours?"
Cherevaty says this calmly, but Sheps still hears notes of accusation and starts to get angry.
"I've already said it, but I can repeat it again," he looks up at Vlad with a determined gaze, "my relationship with my family is none of your business. And I am not going to discuss this topic."
"Why do you always get to choose the topics of our conversations?"
Cherevaty rises from his chair and takes a step toward him on autopilot. He doesn't know what he's trying to achieve with this conversation or why he even asked Oleg to stay, but for some reason, he really doesn't want to let him go while this tense misunderstanding hangs between them.
"Because you stubbornly refuse to talk about the one thing that interests both of us the most right now."
Oleg tilts his head slightly, shifting to a safe topic for him once again, and Vlad purses his lips in disappointment.
"If you want to get laid so badly, maybe it's easier to find someone else instead of wasting so much time on me?"
"If I wanted someone else, we wouldn't be standing here right now."
Sheps smirks, pleased, noticing the change in the gaze opposite him, and his hand dives under the unbuttoned jacket, yanking Cherevaty toward him by the waist. His breath hitches instantly, but Vlad immediately shoves him away, darting a nervous glance at the corner of the classroom.
"Remembered the cameras?" Oleg chuckles irritably. "Great timing..."
"Just because you don't give a damn about anything or anyone, doesn't mean other people are the same!" Cherevaty snaps back, but it seems he's angrier that he can't do what they're talking about right here, right now.
"I erased the fucking recordings last time, and I can do it again!" Sheps bursts out screaming.
He's pissed that Vlad is desperately looking for any excuse, even though he's standing right in front of him, clenching his fists with all his might to hold back.
"Are you trying to say that..."
"Yes, I'm the one who paid to keep the camera recordings from the Dean when you were accused," Oleg admits reluctantly and immediately frowns when Cherevaty breaks into nervous laughter.
And Vlad starts to think he imagined everything. Sheps reduces every interaction to sex, and maybe he doesn't give a damn about what Cherevaty has been tormenting himself with lately.
"I'm costing you a lot, aren't I," Vlad says, somewhat resignedly, not wiping the sad smile off his face. "I wonder what else is part of your devious plan to seduce me?"
"You think I'm a consummate egoist?" Oleg chuckles nervously, swallowing the nasty lump in his throat, because Cherevaty's interpretation is trampling all over what he went through trying to save him. "Except I haven't had a plan for a long time, Vlad."
He looks into the dark eyes and feels something break inside him at that disappointed gaze.
"I pulled you out of it, not because I want to sleep with you." Cherevaty raises his eyebrows at the unexpected confession and wants to make a snide remark, but Sheps cuts him off on an inhale: "And don't ask why. I don't know!... I just don't want to lose you."
The last phrase bursts out on its own, and Oleg immediately looks away, realizing what he just said. He exhales loudly, feeling a wave of wild panic rising inside, and breaks into a run, leaving a stunned Vlad alone in the empty auditorium a few seconds later.
And Cherevaty explodes with a fountain of confused feelings, most strongly feeling guilt pressing on his temples. After what he just heard from Sheps, his own words seem disgusting, despite the fact that they were what helped him reach the real Oleg again.
But at what cost? Vlad realizes he hit him where it hurts the most, because if that weren't the case, Sheps would never have allowed himself to drop all his masks and pull out the most sincere thing he possibly could. Cherevaty doesn't doubt for a second that this wasn't another manipulation.
In his game, Oleg feels maximally confident, always looks people straight in the eye, and doesn't blurt out reckless words, only to flee afterward like a wounded animal caught in an unexpected trap. Even at the beginning of this conversation, he skillfully pivoted to familiar territory, protecting himself from his vulnerability, but Vlad must have hit too hard, finally breaking his tough armor.
Does Cherevaty regret what he said? It seems so.
Does he regret what he heard in response? Definitely not.
Because Sheps just confirmed the most important thing: there are no extra pieces left on their board. In this game, there are now two equals, but no longer rivals, because it's no longer possible for just one of them to win or lose. They either come out as winners, pulling each other out of their fears hand in hand, or they both drown, destroying everything completely.
Oleg doesn't appear at the next class, but now he's staying out of Vlad's sight for completely different reasons. He doesn't know how to look Cherevaty in the eye because he's afraid to see the reaction to his words. To the truth he never intended to speak.
If Vlad sees him exclusively as a manipulator and sees nothing behind the scenes of their game, then he'll most likely just laugh in his face, and Sheps is completely unprepared for that. He's terrified of once again being the one seen as cynical scum by the person closest to him. And the fact that Cherevaty, after everything that has happened, has become exactly that to him, scares Oleg even more.
He didn't plan any of this. Not these confessions, not the evening calls for no reason, not his desperate dependency on a person he just wanted to play a familiar game with, drag to bed, and then forget, like a toy he'd grown tired of.
Sheps wanted to stroke his ego, to prove his excellent ability to control people's emotions once again, but now he cowardly hides around a corner as soon as he spots Vlad in the corridor, and literally flees the smoking spot when he sees him leaving the faculty building. Oleg is angry at his own behavior, but he's angrier at Cherevaty, because he wants him to make some kind of move, to pull him out of this state, but Vlad doesn't text or call, and Sheps isn't at all sure that Cherevaty gives a damn about his feelings.
──── ♛ ♙ ♛ ────
A few days later, Oleg decides to visit an acquaintance in the Rector's office, who helped him pass a few subjects during the winter session. After classes, saying goodbye to Artem, he heads to the main university building. He really doesn't want to add academics to his personal problems.
"Wait, please!" A familiar voice sounds from behind, and Sheps, entering the elevator, flinches and frantically presses the button for the twelfth floor several times, but Vlad still manages to squeeze through the closing doors.
Cherevaty immediately freezes, realizing who exactly he is in this enclosed space with, while Oleg realizes he looks extremely stupid. But afraid to turn around, he pulls his phone from his pocket and stares at the screen.
Vlad wasn't surprised when he didn't see him at the practical seminar. The car was at the faculty, and Cherevaty understood it wasn't just skipping or part of a new tactic. Sheps was either offended or scared, because he was purposefully avoiding him, childishly hiding from any possibility of crossing paths, and seemingly thinking Vlad didn't notice.
And Cherevaty felt he should apologize, but had no idea how. Their relationship is so strange and unpredictable that a simple "sorry" could lead to anything. Oleg could shut down even more, and Vlad himself wasn't sure he could handle such openness on his part. It seems they are completely incapable of talking normally, without covering their feelings with the usual barbs.
"Can you stop ignoring me?" Cherevaty tries to start the conversation carefully.
But Sheps doesn't know what to answer. He swallows nervously, gripping his phone tighter, and thinks he doesn't want to hear anything at all. Whatever Vlad says, it will only make things harder for one of them.
And Cherevaty thinks exactly the same way. He runs through words in his head but finds nothing suitable that won't scare them both, but will break them out of this stupid unspoken tension and return them to the state where they both feel most comfortable—to their familiar game.
Vlad glances at the floor number, realizing he has already wasted several precious seconds on his chaotic thoughts, and decides to go all-in, switching to the language they both definitely understand equally well.
Strong hands throw Oleg against the wall, and he explodes with emotions as Cherevaty silently smashes his lips against his own. And Sheps wants to scream. From delight, from the fact Vlad made the absolute right move in this situation, and from the feeling of incredible relief and freedom that the other man's lips are breathing into him with all their passion.
Cherevaty himself understands he wasn't mistaken, because Oleg responds holding nothing back, pulling him even closer by the neck, letting him deepen the kiss. And Vlad also understands that Sheps is no longer afraid, because with this move, he said more than he ever could with words. They both accept the new rules of their shared game and are confidently confirming it to each other right now, almost choking on mutual euphoria.
The sound of the elevator arriving breaks into his clouded consciousness, and Cherevaty pulls away sharply, trying to come to his senses. He throws a quick glance at Oleg and notices him break into a satisfied smirk.
Sheps elegantly pushes off the wall and, with burning eyes, takes a step toward him, standing beside him and turning to face the opening doors.
"Apology accepted, Vladislav Vitalievich," Oleg tosses out sultrily, without looking, and is the first to exit the elevator, immediately disappearing into the nearest office.
And Vlad smirks. He did the craziest thing he possibly could have done right now, and not only did it not destroy anything in his life, but it seems to have finally brought back what Cherevaty had already missed during these last few days of calm. He heads off for the documents he needs, thinking only about what kind of storm Sheps has in store for him this time after such a lull.