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It was the early-evening Christmas day slump. Ilya was sitting on the couch with Shane's legs draped over his lap, half-listening to Yuna and David bullying the main character of the disaster movie playing on tv. Mostly, he was just thinking about how happy he was: not-quite uncomfortably full, slightly tipsy, and surrounded by the people he loved the most.
"You asleep?" Shane reached out and brushed a curl behind his ear.
Ilya leaned in to the touch and hummed softly,
"No, just resting my eyes. I am being peaceful"
Shane seemed to consider this, then reached a socked foot up and tickled his boyfriends' cheek with it.
"What is this? Are you trying to annoy me, Hollander? If you play this game with me you know you are going to lose"
"I like to keep trying, though" Shane's tone remained flat, but his eyes had gone soft and mischievous.
Ilya was about to respond, when his phone pinged with a notification. It was from Svetlana.
"She's still in Moscow, right?"
"Yes. She's sent me pictures" he angled the screen so that they could both see, "maybe of Krasnaya ploshchad. When we were kids they used to have-"
But the image that loaded shut Ilya up immediately.
"Oh my god" Shane had sat up properly and was gazing at the screen, "no fucking way"
It was a photo of a photo. Two teenagers, posing with the kind of attitude 14-year-olds have they think that they're basically grown up. The girl is clearly Svetlana, her hair relaxed and slicked back in to a top knot, trying to flip off the camera and hold a bottle of vodka with one hand. Ilya had to hand it to her, the look of ballsy nonchalance she's clearly going for is almost convincing. He, on the other hand, looks like a fucking idiot.
He's got a cigarette in his mouth and one behind each ear, balanced on top a pair of wrap-around sunglasses. He knows that under the high neck of the adidas tracksuit must be his mothers cross, but on top he's also wearing a heavy gold chain, stolen from his older brother (Alexei had punched him in the side of the head when he'd found it hidden in the back of Ilya's dresser). Attached to the chain is an honest-to-god playboy bunny symbol.
And the coat-
"Is that fur?" Shane had a hand over his mouth, looking positively thrilled.
"No, no moy lyubimyy, please, look away" Ilya tried to turn the phone off but Shane snatched it, laughing-
"You thought you were sooo cool. What are you in this, thirteen? What were you going for, exactly?"
Ilya lunged for the phone but Shane was using his legs to pin him against the other end of the couch.
"I am never letting you make fun of the way I dress again. This is terrible, Ilya"
"What's terrible?" Yuna was looking at them with amusement.
Ilya groaned.
"Mom, you have to understand, Ilya is really cool. He can't help it. It's honestly embarrassing for me sometimes, being with someone who is just so genetically stylish"
He hands the phone to her, and she does the middle-aged person thing where she holds the phone further then closer to her face. Then she, too, bursts out laughing.
"Oh Ilya"
"What's this?" David had stood up to peer over his wife's shoulders. He chuckles quietly, then says-
"Well you two look like trouble"
"This was brief, brief phase. I need everyone to know this."
"Is that real fur?" Yuna asks, "where the hell does a teenager get a real fur coat from?"
Ilya sighs,
"I took it from my Grandmothers house"