Chapter Text
The door opens with more force than necessary as Shane trudges inside their home. Ilya looks up from his phone with concern and watches as Shane sheds his coat and shoes.
The sound of the door hitting the wall surprised Ilya; Shane is usually very careful and often scold's Ilya for doing the same thing. He stands up and makes his way over to him. "What's wrong?" He asks with furrowed brows as he crosses his arms.
Shane glances up at Ilya as he finishes untying his shoes and places them on the shoe rack, "Nothing. I'm fine."
Ilya scoffs and walks forward, invading Shane's personal space. He reaches out and takes Shane's chin in his hand, tilting his head up. "You are lying. We agreed no lies, da?"
Shane avoids eye contact despite the angle of his head and Ilya doesn't comment on it; he knows that eye contact can be difficult for him, especially during uncomfortable conversations.
"I'm not- I'm not lying." If it weren't for how run down and downright miserable Shane looked, Ilya would've laughed at his sad attempt at a lie.
"Try again." Ilya's voice becomes more firm, but he brings his other hand up to cup the side of Shane's face. He gently caresses his cheek with his thumb and his eyes soften. "I am not mad. Just worried." He quickly clarifies his intentions when he notices Shane tensing up. They've both been working on having clear and direct communication with each other.
Shane relaxes slightly. He has a hard time distinguishing some of Ilya's emotions, so verbal confirmations are always appreciated. "Look, it's nothing to worry about, okay? I'm just tired, it's been a long day."
Ilya nods and leans down to kiss Shane's forehead. "We should cancel dinner with your parents then?"
Shane's brows furrow before recognition spreads across his face. "Shit. I completely forgot about that-" He groans and steps back from Ilya, ignoring the pout that spreads across the other man's face. He places his hand on top of his head and closes his eyes, taking two deep breaths. He had been looking forward to curling up on the couch with Ilya, watching a random TV show that neither of them were really going to pay attention to, and decompressing from the chaos that has been his week.
Ilya hesitates, unsure if Shane would benefit from physical comfort or space at the moment since he's clearly overwhelmed. "It's okay. We can cancel, your parents will understand," He says gently.
"No, no. We already agreed and it would be rude to cancel last minute," Shane says as he pulls out his phone and checks his calender. He doesn't know how he forgot, he's usually so diligent with these things. Right there, under today's date, it says 'Dinner with mom and dad- 6:30pm'.
Ilya frowns and decides to step forward. He gently takes Shane's phone out of his hands and puts it back in his pocket. "Is not rude. You are clearly exhausted; I can see it in your face. They will understand."
Shane shakes his head. "It'll be fine," his voice wavers on the last syllable and even he can tell how unconvincing he sounds. "Listen, it's 5:15 right now. I'll take a shower, get ready, and then we can go. It's not a big deal."
Ilya has to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Shane, is fine. I will call right now, okay? You don't even have to do it, I will." Ilya reaches for his own phone to call Yuna and cancel their plans, but before he can even unlock it Shane is gripping Ilya's wrist and giving him a warning glare.
"Ilya. I said I'm fine. Why can't you just trust me?" He can't help the whine that comes through at the end of his sentence, he hopes Ilya doesn't notice.
"Because your body is tense like you are carrying hundreds of bricks!" Ilya's jaw clenches; one of his favorite things about Shane is his stubbornness, but at times like this it's his least favorite. He takes his own deep breath before speaking again, "I can see how tired you are, солнышко(little sun). I am worried, you have been working so hard past weeks. You can take one night for yourself."
Shane lets go of Ilya's wrists and digs his palms into his eyes. "I look a lot worse than I feel, okay? You just have to trust me on this. Please, Ilya." Shane pleads, looking up into Ilya's eyes and taking his hands in his own. Despite his words and the confidence he says them with, he knows Ilya is right. He just can't bring himself to cancel, no matter how awful he feels.
"Fine. But we will leave if it is too much, okay? You will tell me right away." Ilya brings one of his hands up to cup Shane's cheek. His gaze trail's down the other man's face, from his beautiful freckles to his plump lips. Ilya leans down and captures Shane's mouth in a kiss while bringing his other hand to his waist and squeezing. They only pull away from each other when they're both breathless. Shane is flushed and Ilya has a sly smile on his face. "Promise me if it is too much, you will say."
"I promise, just relax." Shane tries to give Ilya a playful smile but it's obvious to anyone with eyes how forced it was. He has dark circles underneath his eyes, his shoulders are unusually tense, and his smile is off no matter how hard he tries to make it look genuine.
Ilya holds back a sigh, he can see how bad of a shape his husband in his, but he also knows he has to respect Shane's wishes. If Shane Hollander has set his mind on something, there's no stopping him. Unfortunately for both of them, that something often actively sabotages Shane's mental and or physical health.
When Shane steps out of the shower he looks much better than he did when he went in but Ilya can tell by the stiffness of his movements that this is not something that can just be fixed with hot water. He's laying on their bed scrolling his phone when Shane enters their bedroom again and he gives the other man a soft smile.
"You are sure you want to do this?" Ilya asks with a raised brow.
Shane groans and glares at him. "Ilya."
"Okay, Okay. Just making sure. No need to get upset." He smirks and holds his hands up in a placating gesture. Shane rolls his eyes and steps further into the room before walking over to their closet. He grabs a linen shirt and pulls it over his head; wearing this shirt to visit his parents had just become habit over the years. Once its on he walks back to the dresser, putting on his boxers and a pair of pants. When he turns around, running his fingers through his hair, he finds Ilya staring intently. Shane scoffs but there's no heat behind it.
"Like what you see?"
"Oh, very much yes." Ilya stands up and walks over to Shane grabbing him by his hips and leaning down to nip at the side of his jaw.
"Ilya. Cut it out. I don't need a hickey while we're having dinner with my parents."
Ilya gives him one last kiss before pulling his head away from Shane's neck. When he looks at his husband, for a split second he thinks Shane might've been right, and that he really is okay. Then he notices the way the way he's chewing on his bottom lip more agressively than usual and how his fingernails and are leaving little crescent shaped marks on his palms. He gently takes Shane's hands in his own to stop him. He sighs and gives the other man a quick kiss before stepping back. No matter how badly he wants to just pick Shane up, wrap him in a million blankets, and cudde him on the couch, he knows that Shane wouldn't approve. His husband has always dealt with guilt about letting other's down, and despite Ilya's efforts in counteracting this, it's still going strong. The best thing he can do right now is support Shane in stilling wanting to go and have dinner with his parent's, and be there to catch him when he inevitably falls.