It was quite a thing to deal with the elation and dread that pushed Olli's heart into his throat. He'd been lying to himself if he'd said it didn't matter that Christian never said it. It mattered more than anything, and now that it was out, that unspoken well known secret, the import of it hit Olli in the gut, it made his hands go cold and made his face heat, made his heart do un-nameable things in his chest. Looking at the still, almost granite like set of Christian's shoulders, Olli could see what it cost the man to admit this. And he was forced to acknowledge that really, he hadn't been as brave as Christian. After all, it was deceptively easy to declare love to someone he thought had no hope of loving him back, as he'd believed of Christian while he was with Coco. And ,of course, in the beginning of a relationship, swirling with the eddies of new passion an "ich liebe dich" was so easy to access when your lover was around you and inside you. When, Olli wondered, when in all those throwaway penny "I love you's," when had he ever taken the time to make Christian actually hear it?
He was snapped out of his reverie by the sound of Christian pulling on his jeans.
"I'm sorry, Olli. I'm-"
Olli snapped out of his inaction, he knew that once again Christian's bedroom door was going to serve as the Rubicon for their relationship. He blocked the door and quickly locked it. He mused to himself that at least this time they were both on the same side of the door, but perhaps that complicated things.
Christian still refused to meet his gaze, looking out the window, looking at Erwin, anything to avoid Olli.
"Sorry for what, Schatz? Are you sorry for loving me?"
Olli's throat was dry and he reached a tentative hand for Christian's face, relieved when he other man allowed his touch, leant into it, an almost pavlovian response for him at this point.
"No." Christian said quietly, miserably.
"O.k.," Olli whispered breathing out a sigh of relief, "I'm not letting you go anywhere now tell me why you were so scared to admit that."
"No." Christian said again, more forcefully, shrugging off Olli's hand and moving to unlock the door.
"Christian, wait," Olli grabbed his hand to still him, but the numbness that had settled over Christian since he'd said those three words was evaporating, and he flung Olli's hands off of him, and finally looked up eyes cobalt and blazing.
"What is there to wait for Olli, huh?" Olli was pressed against the door as Christian advanced, and Olli was fiercely reminded of their exchange after he'd first kissed him.
"I've learned a lot about you, Oliver." Christian's voice was barely above a rasp, but it seemed to echo all around Olli, surrounded on either side by Christian's forearms.
"I've learned that you run away when things aren't easy. You don't think about the future, you ALWAYS leap before you look, and sometimes you're just damned irrational. What should I wait for, when I tell someone like that I love him?" Christian's voice was low and strained, and he dropped his head, on Olli's shoulder, as though its weight was too much to bear. "Why should I wait, when you'll just leave, like everyone else."
Olli was still. He knew he should be angry, but something inside him was perversely proud. Christian, with his unflinching honesty, had just flayed him alive. He'd rightly, called Olli on about seventy percent of his failings. But, and this was most important, this is what made Olli nearly confident that they would land all right, Christian loved him still. Though it was still frightening, at least they'd be frightened and apprehensive together.
He rubbed his cheek against the downy soft hair, and planted kisses wherever he could reach.
"Anything else?"
He said, when he was sure he could speak without the knife edge of anger or sarcasm peeking through his tone.
"Ja," Christian mumbled, furrowing deeper into Olli's neck, "You're a nymphomaniac, you need help."
"The preferred term is hypersexual, and I think I've found a suitable treatment method."
Olli wrapped his arms around Christian's waist, pulled the younger man to him and kissed him lightly, counting it as a small victory when he met no resistance slipping the younger man's jeans back off of him. Olli's micro-victories continued to accrue as he laced his fingers with Christian's and led him back to their shared bed where they sat side by side in what Olli liked to call their "Christian Crisis Intervention" position, propped against the headboard with their legs touching and hands entwined. They sat silently for a while, breathing in sync, until Olli was sure Christian's agitation had dissipated.
"Now, Christian, if you don't mind me asking. What the hell was all that?"