Chapter Text
The only thing Shane could conceive, after the whole incident was said and done, was that it had started out so easily. When asked why he didn't stop, he gave a half-lie:
"I was just curious how long I could last."
He was knee-deep in his usual pre-season conditioning, a time in which his parents knew well enough to leave him alone, except for the most important of interruptions. That lesson had certainly been reinforced with their recent, unplanned introduction to Shane's new boyfriend, Ilya Rozanov. Maybe it was some combination of this sudden drastic change to his life, along with the usual isolation, that made his control freak tendencies suddenly go haywire that August.
It was midnight, the latest he'd been up in a while, and Shane didn't feel tired. In fact, he felt more awake than he had all day. It was disconcerting. There was something restless that had taken over his brain in a way he'd felt only a few times before. Even after cooking dinner, cleaning his entire kitchen, and running through all his emails, it still hadn't loosened its grip on his shoulders. He sighed as he checked his watch again. 12:05 AM. Time was moving too slowly, which was a stupid thought. He shook his head. It would pass by faster if he was asleep.
Shane went through his usual bedtime routine, despite his eyes remaining wide open. Shower, teeth, sleep clothes, bed. The ceiling was blank and boring as he stared impassively up at it. He tried to let his mind wander, but it stayed stuck firmly inside his skull. Even the stupid trick he used to use as a kid, running through the stats of every team that won the cup in order of year, didn't work. After what felt like forever, he gave in to checking the time again.
03:17 AM. Fuck.
He groaned, grabbing fistfuls of his own hair and pulling in frustration. What the hell was wrong with him tonight? He hadn't slept in that day. In fact, he'd been perfectly punctual, getting up for his morning run exactly at 06:00 AM. He'd followed his routine exactly. Every meal, every workout, had flowed in exact sequence with his pre-season schedule. So why couldn't he sleep? But more importantly, why did he no longer feel like he wanted to?
Shane paused. If he didn't want to sleep, maybe he could just… wait it out. It was only three hours until he'd normally get up, anyway. So what did it matter if he ran through everything a little earlier than his schedule dictated?
Logically, Shane knew it was a terrible idea. As a professional athlete, he'd spent his entire life listening to lectures about how essential sleep was for proper functioning. He had taken it to heart, getting at least eight hours nearly every single night for the last two decades. But his attachment to logic was precarious at best right then. So, he got up.
He was used to running before the sun came up. It was kind of nice, actually, he thought. This early in the morning, his usual trail was completely abandoned, even by the nice old ladies that were usually getting their morning jog in. It was peaceful. Shane breathed in the damp air of the early morning fog as he panted. With the extra time, he figured he could even go a little farther, to try out the new trail he'd always meant to run but never had the chance. It couldn't hurt to change up his routine a little more now that it was already ruined. Besides, he reasoned, it might make him tired enough to get back to his usual routine.
He fell into the beating rhythm, feet pounding against hard packed earth along the forest trails. Shane's mind was blissfully blank for the first time in what felt like ages. So much had happened, lately, pulling his attention in every direction. His parents were trying to spend more time with him, like they were trying to make up for the years they spent locked out of the biggest parts of Shane's life. Ilya and he were growing into the idea of being exclusive after seven years of hooking up. And yet, the usual demands of his life closed in. But not right now.
Shane leaned against the wheel of his car, after, coated in a thick sheen of sweat, and watched the sunrise. The sun shone brighter than it had in a long time, to his eyes. His post-run protein shake seemed to taste even better than usual. The buzz of endorphins that ran through his limbs electrified him, rather than making him exhausted. And, in the back of his mind, there was a growing suspicion that this was only the beginning of something.