"So, did your wifey already go crying to you?" Oleg chuckles, carelessly tossing his bag onto the sofa.
"First of all, watch your tone..." Sasha starts calmly.
"I'll talk however I see fit in my own house!" the younger one snaps immediately.
"This is not your house!"
Sasha raises his voice, looking at him with that familiar contempt, and Oleg feels absolutely disgusted by that look because he knows he doesn't deserve it. But there is no way to prove that to his brother anymore.
"Sorry," Oleg replies venomously. "I keep forgetting you're the master here."
Sasha rolls his eyes and thinks once again about how tired he is of this person.
Since childhood, the older brother understood that their parents' permissiveness not only failed to raise his brother properly but made him more spoiled with every passing year.
Oleg was bought all the best things, forgiven for any misdeeds, while Sasha's protests were considered simple envy because he didn't have such a childhood. And somewhere deep down, the older brother probably did want better toys and calm reactions from his parents to a rare 'B' brought home from school, but much more than that, he wanted to raise his brother to be a decent human being.
That is why Sasha gladly agreed to stay and live with the flighty teenager when their father said he needed to move abroad to develop the business. Mom went with him, and Sasha sincerely hoped that now he would definitely be able to fix his good-for-nothing—in his opinion—brother.
But Oleg had no intention of being fixed. He saw nothing wrong with calmly spending the money that constantly replenished on his card, and he tried not to make completely unreasonable purchases. But Sasha believed that a teenager didn't need the most expensive jeans at all, and that one could eat at home instead of leaving a tidy sum in a prestigious restaurant, as the younger one had been taught by their parents.
The brothers argued constantly: the older one just wanted to teach Oleg to value at least something in this life, while Oleg himself was tired of the endless lectures. Therefore, they both waited for the younger one's admission to the university.
Oleg hoped that Sasha would simply get off his back, realizing that he could be independent, while Sasha, in turn, thought this would force his brother to grow up and finally look at life differently.
But guilt weighed on Sasha more and more. He realized he wasn't coping and didn't know what to do, sincerely wishing to give Oleg a normal upbringing, which their busy parents seemed to have completely neglected.
And a month before enrollment, something happened that finally broke them both. Sasha still doesn't know how it turned out that way, but in that moment, he realized he had definitely failed, because Oleg ended up at the very center of a drug scandal.
It simply didn't fit in Sasha's head that he could have allowed such a thing. He hadn't watched closely enough, hadn't noticed, hadn't explained the most ordinary things to his own brother, and now it was too late. And talking was useless. Sasha realized he needed to be tougher and at least protect the family honor, since he had screwed up his main task completely.
And Oleg was in shock. A stupid set-up by complete strangers turned into several weeks of wild nightmare, shame, and hopelessness. He was dragged to interrogations while Sasha tracked his every step, shutting everyone's mouths with money and connections so that the story, God forbid, wouldn't reach the press.
Oleg tried desperately to prove he wasn't guilty, but at one point realized it was useless. Sasha told him straight out that he didn't believe him, and the younger brother suddenly realized he was completely alone. All he could do was wait to see how it would end and hope that when his parents found out, they wouldn't choose his brother's side.
But Sasha shielded their parents from such a shock. He threw all his resources into it, eventually getting Oleg off the hook and keeping him out of prison, and put forward his conditions, one of which was never to tell their mother and father about what had happened. Oleg had no choice. He silently signed all the papers, handing over his bank accounts and the apartment bought by their father to Sasha, and then simply moved out of the house, trying to forget the most painful betrayal of his life.
"Shut up and listen to me," the older brother says irritably, taking a few steps toward him. "I know you don't give a damn about anyone, but I'm not going to tolerate this. If you allow yourself to be rude to Vika one more time, I will block every fucking card you have and kick you out to live in the dorms."
"Go fuck yourself, you and your Vika!" Oleg spits out and immediately doubles over from a sharp blow to the gut.
"I've said my piece," Sasha throws through clenched teeth and quickly disappears out the door to avoid hitting him again.
Oleg slides to the floor, holding onto the back of the sofa with his hand, and closes his eyes wearily. Resentment flares up inside him again, and he simply hates his brother for these reproaches, with which he constantly tries to point him to his completely unjust place. Sheps rejects Artem's call because today he doesn't want to hear or see anyone, and heads to the shower, hoping the water will help wash away at least some of the nasty, sticky filth that the meeting with Sasha plunged him into again.
──── ♛ ♙ ♛ ────
"Good afternoon, Victoria!" Vlad greets cheerfully, looking up from the register at the sound of the opening door.
After yesterday's incident, Cherevaty believes he should be as friendly as possible with Raidos.
"Good afternoon..." the woman replies, but cuts herself off immediately, spotting a large bouquet of snow-white lilies on her desk.
She frowns, still standing near the door, and examines a small, inconspicuous card among the flowers.
"Vladislav, could I ask you?.."
Cherevaty gets up from his chair and looks questioningly at his colleague, not understanding why she still hasn't moved to her seat.
"Please hand me that note..." Victoria points a finger at the bouquet, lowering her eyes with slight embarrassment.
She guesses who brought the flowers but wants to be absolutely sure before taking any action.
"Are you alright?" Vlad asks with concern, but carefully pulls out the card and hands it to the woman.
Raidos nods silently, taking the note with two fingers, and reads the text written in familiar handwriting at arm's length:
"Sorry for being rude."
She purses her lips angrily, immediately handing the card back to Cherevaty, and looks up at him awkwardly:
"Could you throw these flowers away?"
The request sounds somewhat timid, like Victoria is ashamed either of her reaction or of having to ask a colleague for such a trifle. But Vlad agrees calmly, puts the note back in place, demonstratively turning it away from himself so as not to see the contents, and lifts the voluminous bouquet from the vase. He takes a step toward the door and notices Raidos practically pressing herself against the wall, turning away and covering her nose and mouth with her palm.
The woman tries not to breathe as she lets Cherevaty pass, but explains anyway, realizing the situation looks impossibly strange:
"I'm just allergic to lilies."
"Ah..." Vlad exhales with understanding, lingering for just a second, hesitating whether to ask the burning question, but decides not to pry and walks quickly out of the office, allowing Victoria to finally take a normal breath.
Raidos no longer has a shred of doubt that Sasha went to see Oleg yesterday after all. She is thoroughly tired of the younger Sheps's endless stunts and tries not to provoke him unnecessarily, but Sasha's intervention always leads to consequences like this. And Vika simply stays silent about them so as not to reignite this endless war with renewed vigor.
Yesterday she didn't say a word about her conversation with Oleg, telling her husband only that his brother seemed to have managed to run into a conflict with a newly arrived professor. But Sasha knows both her and Oleg too well not to guess that his wife, defending a colleague, clearly couldn't stay silent, and his brother doesn't know how to communicate with Vika any other way. And this stunt with the flowers is just further confirmation, because Oleg is perfectly aware of her allergy.
Raidos sighs heavily, wiping her fingers, which held the card, with a wet wipe to remove the unbearable smell, and thinks once again that Sasha is right. This person can no longer be fixed, and she made no mistake supporting her husband in that turning point of a story four years ago.
──── ♛ ♙ ♛ ────
Oleg turns the corner of the corridor and collides with Cherevaty, immediately looking up at him. The note falls out of the bouquet onto the floor because Vlad flinches in surprise, and the professor catches these last few seconds of calm while bending down to retrieve the card.
His gaze falls on the neatly written text on its own, and that short phrase is enough for Cherevaty to recognize the handwriting. He straightens up silently, tucking the note back into the flowers, and looks at Sheps with a challenge.
"And where are you going with such a beautiful bouquet?" Oleg asks with a predatory smile.
"I was asked to throw it away," Vlad answers with a hint, watching the student's reaction closely.
But Sheps just chuckles, clearly pleased with his deed, and isn't worried at all that his gift is heading for the trash can.
"Do you always do what you're asked?" Oleg narrows his eyes slightly, and Cherevaty feels hot from that look.
Vlad takes a step to the side to bypass Sheps and avoid further dangerous bickering, but the student instantly mirrors his movement, blocking his path again and tilting his head slightly to the side.
"Maybe I should just ask too?" Oleg lowers his voice, and Cherevaty tries desperately not to think about what exactly.
"I'm not sure you know how," Vlad throws dismissively.
He hopes that at least these words will sting the self-confident student and shatter his latest provocation aimed at him, and it seems to work. Sheps falls silent, his expression changing, and he steps aside, letting the professor pass.
Cherevaty nods with satisfaction, taking a step to finally leave, but Oleg grabs his forearm, forcing him to turn around sharply.
"What if I'm on my knees?" Sheps finishes in a barely audible whisper with a smirk and leaves immediately, not giving Vlad a single second to reply.
Oleg saw enough in the gaze that flared up with anger at the moment of contact, and he knew perfectly well what feeling Cherevaty would explode with at his next phrase.
And Vlad realizes he has fallen into a trap again. Bought into that feigned confusion and, once again, allowed Sheps to have the last word. And what a word it was! Cherevaty heads outside to finally fulfill Victoria's request, but he is thinking only about how diligently he would force Oleg to beg for anything if he actually ended up on his knees before him.
──── ♛ ♙ ♛ ────
Vlad barely manages to survive the remaining two classes and is incredibly relieved that today Levin's classes ended at the same time as his. He desperately wants to vent his emotions somewhere, anywhere, because he is completely incapable of following Ilya's advice in this state.
Maxim is slightly surprised that Cherevaty brought gym clothes to work, but decides not to ask questions. He just understands that Vlad's stress is clearly something ongoing, and that first boxing lesson was definitely not a one-off necessity.
"Alright, stop," Levin interrupts another series of punches. "Take a break."
"I'm not tired," Cherevaty dismisses him, but obediently follows his colleague to the bench, trying to catch his breath.
"I can see that," Maxim chuckles and hands him a bottle of water. "But I'm the coach here, and I know best when you need to rest."
Vlad smiles weakly, taking a sip of cool water, and is about to sit down next to Levin, who has settled on the bench, but the other man stops him with his hand.
"It's immediately obvious you're not an athlete," Maxim shakes his head. "You'll wreck your heart. Walk it off calmly, lower your heart rate—then you can sit."
He silently watches Cherevaty pacing in slow circles around the gym, and after a few minutes, finally starts a conversation carefully:
"You know, looking at you, one wouldn't guess you're like this."
"Like what?" Vlad turns around in surprise.
"Explosive," Levin smiles warmly. "On the surface, you're such a calm guy, refined... Students pushing your buttons that hard?"
"Not really." Cherevaty lowers his eyes, sitting down on the bench. "Personal problems..."
Maxim narrows his eyes slightly, peering intently at the guy, and finds it hard to believe his excuse. Because these "personal" problems seem to manifest in Vlad's behavior specifically after classes. And the PE teacher knows firsthand how students can drive inexperienced teachers up the wall.
"Hello, Professor Levin!" Sheps peeks into the gym and freezes immediately, noticing Cherevaty.
Vlad is sitting on the bench with his eyes closed, head resting against the wall behind him, and for the first few seconds doesn't even react to the voice bursting into his consciousness. And Oleg stands in the doorway, his hungry gaze roaming over the exposed arms and neck, struggling to remember why he came.
"What do you want, Sheps?" Levin asks casually, snapping Cherevaty out of his thoughts.
Vlad locks eyes with those light ones and smirks barely noticeably, realizing that his shorts and light T-shirt have made quite an impression on the student.
"I..." Oleg is still trying to pull himself together, trying hard to brush aside his fantasies. "I wanted to ask about the pool table..."
Maxim arches a brow, noting that the guys are looking only at each other, like not noticing him at all, and examines both of them in turn with interest. Cherevaty, who was relaxing just a moment ago, has visibly tensed up, and Sheps looks slightly lost, which is completely uncharacteristic for him.
Levin hesitates for a few moments, then rises from the bench, deciding to test his theory:
"Sheps, are you in a rush?"
Vlad is startled and snaps his gaze to his colleague, hoping he's wrong in his assumption, but Maxim is already reaching for a second pair of boxing gloves.
"Care to join us?" the PE teacher continues calmly, still addressing Oleg. "Vladislav Vitalievich needs an opponent."
"Well, if Vladislav Vitalievich needs one..." Sheps finally comes to his senses and breaks into a sly smirk. "My gear is in the car, I'll be right back."
He leaves immediately, and Cherevaty sighs resignedly, trying not to show his displeasure, but Levin notices anyway.
"Don't frown." He pats Vlad encouragingly on the shoulder. "It's much more effective to take emotions like yours out on someone rather than into the void."
Cherevaty, of course, doesn't mention that Maxim picked the most accurate target for this. He silently tries to pull himself together, helping the PE teacher lay out mats on the floor, and a few minutes later he even considers this situation not the worst possible outcome.
First, Vlad can finally, with a clear conscience, allow himself to hit the hated student from the heart, disregarding status, because in this makeshift ring, they will definitely be equals.
Second, Cherevaty is sure that his competitive rage, which is now in full swing, will be enough to suppress the desire which—he has no doubt—will definitely rise inside again as soon as they are close.
And third, Vlad is simply tired of denying that he wants to see Oleg without his usual jeans and shirt.
His expectations are met and then some when Sheps enters the gym again with a leisurely gait. The guy is wearing a black tight-fitting tank top and slightly loose shorts of the same color, emphasizing a toned physique. Cherevaty swallows barely noticeably at the sight, and Levin just rolls his eyes, thinking that this rich kid manages to stand out even in gym clothes.
"Alright, here's the deal," Maxim commands while the guys take off their shoes, stealing glances at each other. "We spar at half-strength. I'll correct technique. Stay on the mats. And most importantly—no hits to the head!"
He waits for a knowing nod from both and takes a step back, watching carefully as almost tangible tension grows in the center of the hall between the guys standing face to face. Levin purses his lips slightly and, hoping they don't kill each other, takes a few steps back.
The sharp sound of the whistle pierces the air, and Oleg immediately dodges the first punch flying at him. Cherevaty looks with a challenge, trying to focus on Maxim's corrections sounding from somewhere to the side now and then, but with every minute he starts getting angrier.
Sheps boxes technically, almost needing no rare corrections from Levin, blocking blows perfectly, but he looks nothing like an athlete fighting in the ring. Light eyes sparkle brightly with excitement, and the smirk doesn't leave his face, even when Vlad manages to break through his defense. Cherevaty frowns and suddenly realizes that Oleg isn't fighting him. Oleg is playing with him.
Ilya's words immediately surface in his head, and Vlad steps back slightly, waiting for a good moment for a completely different kind of attack.
"Keep going, just be careful," Maxim throws, distracted by a phone ringing. "I'll be back in a couple of minutes."
He disappears into the back room, and Cherevaty narrows his eyes slightly, dodging another blow.
"Those were your flowers, weren't they?" he asks unexpectedly.
Sheps is thrown off, not immediately understanding what he's talking about, but tries not to show it.
"What flowers?"
"The bouquet for Raidos," Vlad answers calmly, continuing to spar, but watching closely as the eyes opposite him start darting nervously.
"What makes you think that?"
Oleg smirks automatically, either trying to defend himself from the unpleasant topic or simply satisfied that Cherevaty has switched to the informal "you" again.
"Recognized the handwriting."
"I'm flattered," Sheps drawls with satisfaction, angering Vlad even more.
He realizes he is trying to press on something personal, and he doesn't consider such methods fair, but Oleg crossed that line first, and Cherevaty has no desire to retreat now.
"She's allergic to lilies." Vlad is sure for some reason that this fact is no revelation to Sheps, but he voices it anyway to confirm his rightness.
"I know."
Oleg says it predatorily, like savoring his deed, and Cherevaty suddenly explodes with animosity and a desire to somehow avenge such treatment of the woman. He strikes sharply, right on the cheekbone, and Sheps, not expecting such a reaction to his words, falls backward onto the mats.
A second later, Vlad realizes he broke the rules and struck at full strength, and to the face at that. He gets scared immediately after, noticing that the student lies motionless and doesn't open his eyes.
"Oleg?.." Cherevaty drops to his knees beside him, quickly undoing his gloves and tossing them aside.
He taps Sheps lightly on the cheeks and, seeing no reaction, touches his neck with trembling fingers, trying to find a pulse.
But inside Oleg, there is a fire. His cheekbone burns like hell from the blow, and he is almost suffocating, trying not to breathe for the sake of his performance, but it is definitely worth it. He hears fear in Vlad's voice, and his touch, though it seems gentle, feels like it sets his skin on fire, turning Sheps on to the limit.
The air in his lungs runs out, and the student throws his eyes open, taking a deep breath.
"Scared?" he smirks, his burning gaze locked on the dark eyes opposite him.
"Jackass," Cherevaty exhales in relief, immediately jerking his hand away from the other man's neck.
He closes his eyes for a second, trying to calm down after the flare of anxiety, and Oleg instantly takes advantage of this confusion. He pushes Vlad sharply, pinning him flat on his back, and straddles his thighs, resting his hands on his chest.
"Get off," Cherevaty grates out through clenched teeth, but Sheps can already tell by that low voice that he has achieved his goal.
Vlad flares up almost immediately, entranced watching Oleg, never taking his eyes off him, slowly removes his gloves, and he can no longer resist what is happening in his head.
And in there, Sheps is no longer wearing the sweaty tank top or the annoying shorts. He isn't wearing any clothes at all, and there is nothing on Cherevaty himself except a rhythmically moving Oleg.
Vlad's hands land on the other man's waist on their own, and he tightens his fingers, not immediately understanding why he clearly feels fabric under them.
Sheps freezes, peering into the clouded eyes. He breathes heavily and holds on with all his might not to snap first, but it gets harder with every second because Vlad's arousal is felt maximally vividly under his own thighs, almost shutting down his brain.
Oleg slides his palms over Vlad's T-shirt, moving up to his neck, touches the tattoo, and leans in toward his face, trying to coax the final action from Cherevaty that seems necessary to them both.
"Wanna kiss?" Sheps exhales barely audibly, and Vlad jerks immediately, returning to reality.
He pushes the student away in fright, and at that same moment, Levin returns to the gym:
"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"
The PE teacher rushes toward them with quick steps, and Oleg bolts for the exit almost at a run, without saying a word.
"What happened?" Levin asks in a stern voice, but Cherevaty has no strength to answer.
He rolls over onto his stomach, hoping Maxim didn't notice what he shouldn't have seen, and buries his face in the mat, driving his fist into the floor next to him.
──── ♛ ♙ ♛ ────
Oleg is already on his third cigarette, trying to calm down, staring thoughtfully into the almost solid wall of rain. The weather hasn't been great since morning, but he definitely didn't expect a downpour like this. Sheps is angry at the damn rain, through which he has no idea how to run to his car parked a few meters from the entrance; at Levin, who returned at the most inappropriate moment; and, of course, at Cherevaty, who is clearly burning with his own desire but still won't give up, desperately resisting even Oleg's most explicit moves.
A sudden clap of thunder pounds against his temples frightfully, and Sheps flinches, snapping out of his thoughts. He looks around at the car alarms going off nearby and decides it's time to bail from this storm. With a precise toss, the cigarette flies into the trash can, and Oleg is about to step out into the downpour when he suddenly notices Vlad lingering at the entrance.
Cherevaty stands under the canopy, frowning and looking around helplessly, realizing he didn't bring an umbrella. Although the professor isn't at all sure it would have saved him: the rain is driving sideways, lashed by strong gusts of wind against his legs, and the bright flashes of lightning are hardly conducive to a light stroll under an open umbrella.
Vlad feels an attentive gaze from the smoking spot and turns his head, locking eyes with Sheps again. After what happened in the gym, Cherevaty miraculously managed to calm down. The stupid excuses to Levin, which Maxim didn't seem to fully buy, and the cold shower in the locker room finally killed the painful arousal, leaving only a vicious thrill inside and a desperate desire to drive Oleg to the same hysteria Vlad experienced himself today.
He grabs onto the lucky opportunity for revenge and takes a few steps toward Sheps:
"Can you give me a ride?"
The student raises his eyebrows in surprise, not expecting such initiative, but, of course, he has no intention of refusing. He nods briefly, pulling his keys from his pocket, and dives into the rain with anticipation, running toward the car together with Cherevaty.
"What did you tell Levin?" Oleg asks with interest, pulling out of the parking spot.
"That I miscalculated the punch," Vlad answers calmly.
"And did you?" Sheps smirks, shooting a glance at him.
"I calculated it."
Cherevaty answers with satisfaction, a slight smile playing on his lips, and he doesn't regret at all that at least one of today's blows was truly delivered from the heart.
For the next few minutes, they drive in silence, and Vlad replays this short dialogue in his head, trying to understand the strange feeling arising inside. He didn't notice the moment they finally switched to the informal "you", but for some reason, he doesn't want to return to formality now. And everything they are talking about seems strange to Cherevaty, because none of their dialogues resemble communication between a professor and a student. And this scares Vlad just as much as this strange fact somehow pleases him.
"Why did you treat Victoria that way?" Cherevaty doesn't know why he is prying into this topic again, but he still wants to hear an answer.
Oleg frowns, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, and shoots another glance at Vlad, trying to figure out if this is a provocation or if Cherevaty is genuinely interested in knowing something about him.
"It's personal," he answers briefly.
"You actually have personal things?" Vlad chuckles instead of apologizing. "Or do you have personal relationships with all your professors?"
"Why, are you jealous?" Sheps teases him, immediately eliciting genuine laughter from the professor.
"If you channeled that self-confidence of yours into something else, you'd achieve a lot in life."
"How do you know what I've achieved?"
Oleg snaps back viciously, staring tensely through the windshield, and Cherevaty turns his head sharply toward him, realizing he hit a nerve that runs deep.
"You don't strike me as a man with any aspirations," Vlad voices his opinion cautiously, watching the reaction closely.
But Sheps latches onto his phrase, instantly shifting the topic away from the one he is definitely not ready to discuss with Cherevaty, or anyone else for that matter.
"But I made a very different impression on you perfectly well." He returns the habitual smirk to his face, hoping this will throw the professor off his most successful provocation yet. "At least after what happened in the gym today, your excuses will definitely sound stupid now."
"And there's that arrogance again," Vlad chuckles in response, trying not to think about exactly what Oleg is hinting at.
Vlad realized long ago that he totally gave himself away. And the fact that Sheps senses the reciprocity of their chemistry is no secret to him. Just Oleg doesn't seem to understand what the problem is, and to Vlad, that is truly strange. Although, what else to expect from an egoist like Sheps? Certainly not involvement in other people's problems and principles.
They drive the rest of the way to Cherevaty's house in silence because Vlad doesn't know what to say, and Oleg is waiting for at least some move from him, still not understanding why the professor asked for a ride in the first place. Sheps doesn't believe for a second that it was solely due to the terrible weather.
The car stops at the right entrance, and Oleg kills the engine, turning his whole body toward Cherevaty.
"Thanks for the ride," Vlad says emotionlessly and reaches for the handle, but Sheps blocks the doors with a quick movement, not letting him get out.
"Just 'thanks'?" he asks innocently. "Is that it?"
"Well, you clearly don't need gas money," Cherevaty chuckles, looking into the light eyes with a challenge.
"I don't need money," Sheps nods predatorily.
Vlad looks at him for a few seconds, deciding on his revenge, and then abruptly leans over the armrest with his left arm, rests his right hand on Oleg's thigh, and literally presses him into the seat, his breath burning Oleg's lips.
Sheps's pulse skyrockets instantly; he freezes, hoping not to scare off Cherevaty's impulse this time, but the professor looks at him with an unfamiliar gaze, slowly sliding his palm along his jeans, yet still not doing what Oleg is waiting for most.
"Don't ever think you're the only one who knows how to play this game," Vlad says almost in a whisper, his hand fumbling for the central lock button.
He leans in even closer, almost touching the other man's lips, and with a quiet click, unlocks the doors.
"And now, remember this every time you get into your car," he delivers on an exhale, smirks with satisfaction, and a moment later is already outside, shutting the door quietly.
Sheps follows him to the entrance with a clouded gaze and hits the steering wheel hard with his hands, realizing he walked right into a trap. His breathing is impossibly ragged, his jeans feel almost painfully tight from the sudden wave of arousal, and Oleg tries to process how this happened.
The fact that his body reacts to Cherevaty like this doesn't surprise him, of course. Sheps is surprised only by this extreme self-control: he didn't believe for a second that Vlad would have the strength to walk away, because he himself was a second away from saying to hell with his game and just kissing him.
Oleg closes his eyes, leaning back in the seat, and thinks that if they end up this close one more time, he frankly won't give a fuck who submits first.