Chapter Text
"I learned a word today," Ilya said in lieu of greeting when the Skype call commenced. Affection crashed into Shane upon seeing his boyfriend, and he grinned, eyes crinkling behind his glasses; the ones Ilya loves so, so very much.
"Oh yeah?" He asked, tilting his head. A couple years ago Ilya might have thought Shane was patronizing or just humouring him, but Shane was completely and undeniably proud. English had never been a hard language for Shane, he'd learned in tandem with French, so the words were easy to him. Russian was a complicated language, though, and so much cooler. When it came to English, Ilya was still forgetting and learning words every now and again.
It was unbelievably endearing. "Don't keep me hanging, Ilya," he mused, smiling when Ilya rolled his eyes, "what word?"
Taking a moment to settle on the bed, Ilya shifts so most of him is on-screen without being... suggestive. That will come later, Shane is sure. Ottawa had lost their game and Ilya always turned to Shane for comfort, which Shane was always willing to give. "Perceptive," Ilya said, a little slowly, but undeniably smug. The way he all but caresses the "r" in the word with his Russian accent sent a shudder up Shane's spine. "Good word. Is good because I am the most perceptive, yes?"
Shane laughed softly, shaking his head. "It is a good word isn't it," he replied, almost bemused, but Ilya looked proud of himself, "was the context funny?"
"Secret," Ilya said with startling conviction, his eyes hardening despite the easy smile, "I am not so cruel as to talk about other people and their private lives. Not even with you, but perhaps, he too is perceptive. About us."
“Ah." That had Shane making a face. "I knew those rumours would give us shit," he grumbled. Ilya laughed.
"He knows I am bisexual, most others do not. We are lucky like that." He told him, one of his curls falling in front of his eyes. Shane instinctively reached towards the camera to brush it aside, flushing when he realized his mistake. It made Ilya laugh softly, though, and the world's sappiest expression crossed his face.
He blew the curl out of his eyes with a smile, sighing wistfully. "And look where that luck got us," he said, following up with something in Russian. Shane blinked, trying to make sense of it. He’d been getting better at Russian, but the language was still complicated to him. It was late, and Shane was just glad to be talking to Ilya.
Learning Russian with Ilya was like being taught something from someone who had no real education. Which was the truth at the end of the day, he hadn’t been taught Russian he’d just… grown up speaking it. He wasn’t a particularly great teacher; learning with Ilya was messy and fun and Ilya had no real plan as to what he was doing. He'd taught him the alphabet and what could be constituted as the basics to Russian, but from there it was whatever Ilya felt like. There was no rhyme or reason; he taught Shane all the... fun sentences for fun activities, and then anything he felt like. Sometimes he'd walk into a room and start a conversation with Shane in Russian to see if Shane could keep up. Better to try and do it casually, he said. He’d learn it more normally through casual conversation, or so he was told.
Blinking himself out of his stupor, he smiled at Ilya. "I'm still surprised we ended up as we have." Shane said honestly. A soft look crossed Ilya's features, and he kissed his fingers before pressing them to the screen. With a smile, Ilya murmured something in Russian, and Shane all but preens.
"I love you too," he whispered, he doesn’t really try to work out the Russian; he’d heard those words enough to know their meaning. “I miss you,” he added with a smile, grinning when he saw the look that flashed in Ilya’s eyes.
“I miss you too, always. When we are together again I’ll teach you new words, da?” He purred, and Shane shook his head with a scoff. He’d have shoved at his shoulder if they were in person, instead he just gave Ilya a look.
“Da,” he agreed, laughing softly.
They spoke for a little while longer, and when they called it quits, Shane kissed his fingers then tapped the screen, adoring how much it always flustered Ilya, and feeling like he was in the clouds when Ilya did it back. He wanted to be in Ilya’s arms, feel him and his warmth against him, and he wanted to be able to kiss him.
Soon, at least.
When he dreamt that night, it was no surprise his cocky Russian boyfriend was waiting for him.