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Shiloh grinned in response.

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver," he said as he dropped his clothes into the opened bag. "Let me know when you do laundry next, I'll come help."

Then, after making sure he had everything, he headed towards the door at Ian's encouragement, holding it open for Ian to make his way through.

"No, no, after you, Chicken."

Shiloh shook his head, somehow not surprised.

"It'll be soon, otherwise all of our clothes are going to be brown forever," Shiloh laughed, falling in stride with Ian. "But fine, I'll come get you."

The silence that followed was unexpected, and Shiloh wasn't sure how to break it. Every time he snuck a glance at Ian, the man seemed to be deep in thought, and Shiloh wondered if he had said something wrong. He didn't really understand, but he supposed Ian would say something when he was ready.

He didn't have to wait long, as Ian spoke up when they finally reached his room. Shiloh looked up at the sound of his voice, and nodded as he followed Ian into the room.

"Sure, what's up?"

Shiloh watched Ian, and listened.

What did he want?

He wasn't entirely sure in what way Ian had meant the question, whether he wanted to know what Shiloh wanted physically or altogether. Tilting his head at him a little, he tried to figure it out. Shiloh hadn't expected this sort of conversation, at least not so suddenly and without warning.

"I, uh, what, do you mean like dating? I don't understand what you..."

The words fell flat on his ears, and he was mad at himself, but it was hard to know what he wanted, when he had little experience in his life to frame it by. His feelings were much the same as Ian's, only stunted by his lack of ability to imagine much more. He liked Ian, definitely as a friend, which came easy, and by the way his heart sped up as Ian detailed all the things he wanted, his 'like' wasn't limited to friendship. He wanted to try all of those things, and to try them with Ian but he didn't know how to admit it.

"I like being with you too," he said finally, after a long pause and a lot of mental sorting out. "You're fun to be around and you make me laugh, and no matter how much you deny it, you are pretty good at being a friend... I don't know what I want, Ian."

He glanced at him, his expression lost, like he wasn't sure what emotion to feel.

"I like you, and I like... doing those things with you. I like kissing you. I find you very attractive. But I've never done this before... Not with a man, not with a woman, not ever. So if you want to do this... I don't know how to do this. You're going to have to lead me through it."

“A trial run,” Shiloh repeated, testing the word out. Ian had inched towards him. Closer and closer until he was close enough to tug Shiloh closer by the bottom of his shirt, and Shiloh let him, watching him with searching brown eyes.

“A trial run.”

It sounded fair enough, considering their combined inability to come up with concrete answers. Shiloh moved his arms from his sides, placing his hands gently over Ian’s and looking up at him. He untangled Ian’s fingers from the hemline of his shirt, moving them to his hips so Shiloh could move nearer, closing the gap between them. He was nervous, but they were in this together, and Ian couldn’t be the only one braving his demons.

“Sounds like a good start,” he breathed softly, and his expression warmed as he smiled up at him.

He liked the nearness, he liked it a lot. It was comforting, and he leaned against Ian, wrapped up in the warmth of his arms. He liked the feeling of Ian's lips against his even better, and for the first time, determined to prove that he wanted this too, that he wanted to try, he kissed him back, draping his arms over Ian's shoulder and tugging him closer.

He was proud of himself, even though his heart was racing and he was sure his face was beat red. Pulling back, he breathed out slowly, savoring the moment, his warm brown eyes shyly meeting Ian's.

Then his stomach rumbled, and Shiloh stepped back with a laugh, embarrassed.

"I guess you'd better feed me, before we start anything else."

The shyness was still there, waiting for the most imperfect moment to swoop back in and set everything back to its rightful pace. But for that brief moment, Shiloh kissed Ian, and it wasn't clear to him anymore whether he was doing it to convince Ian, or to convince himself. Either or, Ian didn't seem to mind, his hand fixed against Shiloh's backside, his arm wound around his waist and his lips pressed firmly back against Shiloh’s. Shiloh had never felt more wanted.

He smiled back at Ian, an expression that was swept up in another kiss, light and teasing and Shiloh laughed too, as Ian leaned away.

“Nice try,” he said, “But there’s no fooling my stomach.”

Ian’s hand had found his again, before Shiloh had even realized it was happening, the warmth of Ian’s skin against his becoming more and more familiar. He linked his fingers with Ian’s, and then Ian was headed towards the door, pulling him in tow.

“Mmm, delicious MREs, here we come,” Shiloh chuckled, but the cheery face that accompanied the soft sound faded a little at Ian’s question. They stood at the door, and it seemed to be a crossroads, one where Shiloh didn’t know which direction to take. They were giving this an honest shot, but he could he do that without… Admitting it? When it was just the two of them, that was one thing, but to publicly broadcast it, Shiloh wasn’t sure he was ready. Guiltily, he slipped his hand from the fingers twined around it, and nodded his head. He wasn’t ashamed of Ian, not in the slightest. He was ashamed of himself.

He stepped next to Ian, and leaned his head against his shoulder, just until they moved again.

“I’m sorry… Is that okay?”

Shiloh's face was red, for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was the affectionate kiss Ian had doted on his forehead. He had been honest with Ian, instead of tucking away behind a joke or a smile, and Ian hadn't turned him away, hadn't rebuked him. He'd done just the opposite. Shiloh was so used to trying to mold himself to fit what everyone wanted him or needed him to be, that being knowingly selfish about his own feelings was about as foreign as kissing had been to him before meeting Ian. There were some things he had never stood for, like being treated unfairly, but when it came down to it, even in chastising he'd always been trying to help the other person out, to make them realize what they were doing wrong and to help them feel better. He rarely turned that sort of criticizing gaze on himself, afraid he wouldn't measure up.

But to Ian, at least for now, he did, and it meant the world to him. He returned Ian's grin, scrunching up his nose a little as the Mist hunter ruffled his hair.

"Yeah, yeah, I guess I can let you do that, since I guess I kind of like it too and all," he said, and nodded at Ian's mention of lunch. He stepped outside the door and into the hallway, waiting for Ian to join him.

"Thank-you," he said quietly, once they were both outside.