Volya had a hard time pretending to be grumpy as he crowded after Liam into the lobby of their hotel, leaving puddles on the immaculate floor.

With rainwater no longer smudging his sight, Volya told himself that he just had to look anywhere but at Liam's face to keep giggles at bay. He chose to study how the wet T-shirt hugged Liam's chest after he'd discarded his dripping hoodie. This worked great, because the smile melted right off his face, replaced by a dry-mouthed stupor. So long as his jaw didn't slack, he was golden.

Liam caught the direction of his gaze and glanced at his chest. "Oh my, that's soggy. Let's go and—"

Volya didn't find what Liam wanted to do, though logically, it would be to change. A flash blinked, this time not the bolt of lightning from the sky, but from a camera.

Liam took half-a-step away from Volya, creating a courtesy distance between them. It didn't help: another camera flashed.

Then another...

A girl with a fawning smile tore herself from the high-backed armchair by the fireplace, holding up her phone. Volya was new to the celebrity game, but he had already learned that the fans weren't solitary creatures. Like locust, they swarmed.

Partially impaired by the acute case of Liam-is-so-close to start with, Volya froze solid, like a deer in headlights. Except instead of an urge to flee, a growl was building in his chest.

Hunting Liam, would they? He'd rip those phones out of their hands along with their fingers—even though in a warped way, their pursuit meant safety for him. Like, Liam's academic buddies couldn't dissect him if the fans tracked their every move. Though some of them might help, if Liam asked them nicely? The world was seriously screwed up.

"Stop scowling," Liam whispered, his warm breath touching Volya's earlobe. "Everything is under control."

Volya didn't know if he should nod that yes, he understood English or shake his head, because no, to him the situation looked the opposite of controlled. He had just opened his mouth to point it out, when a security guard appeared out of thin air to block the phone-wielding girl's advance.

She still snapped a few pictures of Volya either stupefied, or scowling, or cross-eyed and gaping like a fish. Candid!

Another guard materialized to usher Liam to the elevator. Volya tagged along. Two more security ninjas covered their retreat by firmly inserting themselves at the bottleneck point of the elevator bank to stop the opportunistic selfie-takers in their tracks.

Adrenaline drained from Volya's veins in the duration of one long shiver after the elevator doors had finally closed, cutting off the view of the lobby. He no longer wanted to growl, but to howl: the guard who herded them into the elevator and took up one corner had his suit dappled with moisture. The man, too, was out in the rain. Crap.

Volya motioned for Liam's phone, and Liam extricated it from his back pocket. Trying to ignore the lingering warmth on the plastic cover, Volya typed, "Were your security with us all along?"

Liam nodded absently. "They're just doing their job."

"Of course," Volya muttered in English. "Of course."

If Volya had put two and two earlier, he wouldn't have laughed like a hyena, let alone snapped silly pictures of Liam with flowers. So much for the all-knowing voice in his head. So much for trust. Volya's experiences to date taught him right: one didn't just trust a stranger on a drop of a pin. It sucked a big time to get this I-told-you-so from his past.

"Come in for a bite to eat," Liam said, once they stepped out of the elevator on the fifth floor. The guard motioned for them to stop and walked the length of the hall just in case, but Volya was certain he could still overhear the obnoxiously crisp voice of the app.

"No, sorry. My clothes are all soaked through. I should go change." Like, half of him wanted to say underpants instead of clothes to irk the guard, and the other half was mortified that he was listening to every word as is. But his excuse was honest to God truth. The fabric clung wetly to Volya in some places, and hung in clumps in others, his unmentionables included.

Liam didn't move a single step. He reached out and smoothed the crease between Volya's eyebrows. His thumb felt cool against Volya's flushed skin.

"Ah, will you stop worrying about every little thing already? I must have something that would fit you. We'll roll up the pant legs if we have to."

"Stop touching me!" Volya snapped, confusing the heck out of the app mid-word. The phone the interpretation quickly and shut up, like it didn't want to get in between them.

Volya didn't care how sensitive a soul the phone had, nor did he care to catch every nuance of what Liam was saying in response. He didn't even care that the security guy parked his butt a few yards away with a concerned expression. The prospect of putting on something that Liam had once worn freaked Volya out too much to think of anything else. It wasn't the same as the usual hand-me-downs. It was worse than shopping with Liam. He'd rather sit wrapped in a bath-towel all night while his jeans were drying or go wild and use the hotel's shamelessly priced laundering services.

Liam clasped his hands behind his back, but the phone still droned on after him: "Hey, don't bite!"

"You forgot to add the hand that feeds you." He wanted to run away and hide in his room, lock the door, burrow his head under the pillow, lest his failing instincts would lull him into the sense of false security again.

"Volya?" Liam tilted his head to one shoulder and smiled with a heart wrenching innocence. "It's not like that at all. I just thought that since it's my fault that we didn't have time to shop, I would make it up to you."

"Wasn't your fault," Volya staunchly upheld the truth. He refused to go shopping in the first place, so Liam suggested they see the Kremlin. And no matter how potent Buzzkill's star power was, Liam didn't command the rain.

Liam's smile widened as if Volya acquitted him of a grave offense. His hands left their sanctuary behind his back to hang helplessly by his sides.

Damn Liam! Damn his disarming smiles!

Volya's knees weakened along with his will. As much as he hated to admit it, it was painfully obvious that he was developing a crush on the popstar. He was no better than the fans in the lobby. But could a guy have a crush when he was already in love? Unfortunately, there was nobody to ask for relationship advice, except Liam and the guard, and Volya doubted that either one would give him a disinterested third-party answer.

So, he followed Liam into his suite like a puppy, trying to convince himself that arguing in the hall via an app and under the security guard's scrutiny was plain stupid. Same went for not falling in love worry. How did one even guard against that?

Liam... Liam threw him off balance without even trying. He was just too different from the men Volya was used to.

Liam viewed feelings with curiosity rather than apprehension, welcoming them as they came. He didn't seem to question or check a million times if they were real. Back in Slobodinsk, Liam was unfazed by Volya being in love with Toshka too.

This outlook was exciting and upsetting at the same time, because if everything was permitted, how did one know what was special? What was true? Were Volya handed a shiny coin, he'd bite into it to check if it were gold. He never took anything at face value.