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Common sense had gone to bed, because Shane woke up at 2am instead of leaving at 4.30pm like he’d originally planned.
Ilya was announcing his move to the Ottawa Centaurs in the coming week. Moving boxes were stacked everywhere, some taped, some gaping open like they had given up halfway through the process. He hadn’t bothered sorting out things to get rid of. Just shoved them all in like a Khrushchyovka.
Shane had come over after the game in an attempt to help Ilya, but they got distracted instead, and ended up in bed.
Now, at 2am, Shane was halfway into his jacket, one sleeve on, the other dangling uselessly at his side. He pulled off some tape that had gotten stuck on it while helping Ilya out earlier on.
“I’m not staying,” he said. Ilya looked at him strangely. “My skincare is at the hotel. I need to exfoliate.” Shane had a routine, and he wasn’t going to stop it, which was easier than admitting he didn’t want to leave.
Ilya squinted at him like this was the dumbest sentence he’d ever heard, which was impressive considering his own standards. “Your face will survive until morning, Shane.”
Shane gave Ilya a quick once-over, as if judging the patchy skin and cracked corners of his mouth, courtesy of years of smoking.
“You already look like a filtered face enough,” Ilya went on, walking with Shane to the front door. “You want little hearts on your cheeks next. Or cat ears.”
Shane opened the front door. The cold hit immediately, familiar and sharp that burned the inside of his nose. The wind cut straight through his jacket, down his collar, into places that made him hiss under his breath. He took three steps, stopped, then, without saying anything, turned around and walked straight back inside.
He wasn’t going to ask for a coat, because Ilya would probably give him a Bears one. He was stubborn like that.
“Uber not here?” Ilya teased him. “You left your phone charging on my bed, you know.”
“I’m supposed to be back at my hotel by now,” Shane said. “I told Hayden I’d be back in the afternoon.”
“Relax,” Ilya said. “Pike is most likely enjoying his alone time.”
“Hmm.” It was probably true. When Shane tried to leave again, he realised his jacket was gone, and Ilya was holding it, fingers curled in the fabric like it had always belonged there.
“Looks warm out there.”
“Definitely cold.”
“You will have to go back to your hotel naked,” Ilya said. “Be very cold. Your poor dick will shrivel and freeze off, and I don’t want that.” He considered Shane, looking him up and down, then started to pull at his clothes. Ilya pointed at his bedroom. “Back, back, back, Hollander. It’s not cold unless I start putting carpet on my walls.”
“Is that a Russian thing?”
“Slavic. Yes. For insulation.”
“You could afford insulation.”
“Hmm. No. You hang rug so wall does not try to kill you. What are you going to say to Hayden once you come in while he’s having his beauty sleep? You were with Rose Laundry?”
“It’s Landry.”
“Say it again.”
“Landry.”
“Laundry. Then she took all your clothes and put them in the washing machine,” Ilya said. “They ended up, mysteriously, in one of Ilya Rozanov’s many moving boxes.”
Shane stared at him. Then he sighed, long and tired, and sat back down on the edge of a box marked KITCHEN?? in black marker.
“This is extortion.”
“Yes,” Ilya agreed. He spotted a moving box that said Bathroom? Probably? and dove into it, rummaging around.
“What are you doing?” Shane asked.
“Skincare.”
“You have skincare?”
Ilya shrugged. “People leave things here all the time. I get lots of free stuff.” He pulled out an exfoliator and twisted the cap off. “Foil still on.”
Shane looked at the bottle. It was a good brand, too. That was when Shane gave in.
They went back to bed without discussing it.
Later, in the dark, Ilya shifted slightly, half awake, pressed warm against Shane’s back. “I.L.Y.A,” he murmured. “My name means I Love You, Asshole,” Ilya said quietly.
There was a pause. It was so long, that Ilya almost thought he’d pushed it too far.
Then Shane huffed a laugh, low and tired.
“S.H.A.N.E,” he said. “Still Here, Asshole. Not Elsewhere."
Ilya hummed. "Good enough."
Shane smiled into the pillow and stayed.