"Must be fate," Ivan counters, sliding his hand up along Duv's jaw to cup his cheek and pull him that much closer. "Can't imagine why else we'd see each other so often." His other arm moves, his hand settling in the small of Duv's back. He doesn't kiss the other man just yet, however, instead just stares rather fondly down at his face, running a thumb across his cheekbone.

Whatever Ivan almost says isn't what comes out of his mouth, which is a frank "I really do like you, Duv." But it's all he can get himself to say, and the meaning behind it is nearly the same, right?