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Ilya and Shane are not the kind of people who are getting in a decent number of arguments. Their relationship has been built on teasing, loving chirps and a bit of dark but healthy humor since their first hookup. Ilya’s version of an argument is slightly different to the ones of Shane given the fact he grew up in a not so loving Russian family. An argument between him and his father or his brother used to contain yelling, screaming, crying, cussing, punching - in the special case of his father more like complete silence from Ilya's side. An argument with Shane is nothing like that. They don’t yell at each other while fighting. They don’t use any swear words against each other and they certainly would never harm each other in any way. They would give each other some space to cool down and then they would apologize – both. No matter who was right or wrong. They would hug afterwards; one of these tight, bone-crushing hugs that makes Ilya feel loved a tiny bit more after every fight between them. Arguments with Shane are so different. They are also different, because Ilya finds himself unable to win a single argument against his boyfriend – no matter how right he might be.
September
“Oh, but this is not wholegrain pasta.”
Ilya pauses his current doing of unloading the groceries from the brown paper bag he just dropped on the kitchen counter. Shane wrote him a list of everything to get and now he is standing on the other side of the counter, studying the package of pasta Ilya brought home. Which are, correctly, not made of wholegrain.
“Yes, I don’t like taste of them. Feels like I chew on grain stick.”, Ilya shruggs, continuing to put away the groceries. Milk into the fridge, brown rice into the pantry, salmon and beef into the freezer.
“But I wrote it on the list for you to buy.”
“Shane, nobody writes list for shopping like you do. I need doctor degree for that.”
Shane scrunches his nose slightly. “It’s quite simple. And it says wholegrain pasta on it, right there.”, he points his finger on said word, written neatly under cherry tomatoes, diced half.
Ilya pulls the last thing – a bag of coffee – out of the bag and put it down on the counter, leaning both of his hands next to it and looking at Shane. “I just don’t like it. What’s exactly the problem now?”
“The problem is, I’m trying to get back in shape for the upcoming season and I cannot eat the regular pasta.”, Shane is starting to get unnerved. “I already told you a hundred times.”
“Shane, you are in shape.”
“That is so not the fucking point!”
“Ok, what is the point then?! You are starting to fight with me over stupid pasta.”, Ilya matches his boyfriend’s growing nerves, feeling himself getting a bit angry.
“I’m not fighting with you. I just want you to get what I write on the stupid list.”
“Next time you go shopping with your own stupid list and you can buy what you want.”, Ilya waves him off, turning around to grab a coke from the fridge.
“You know I can’t just go grocery shopping here in Boston, that would look suspicious given the fact everyone around here knows you live here!”
“Oh, so then I guess you will need to eat fucking regular pasta like normal people do!”, Ilya pushed back in a very cynical tone in his voice, cracking the can open with a bit more force than probably necessary.
Shane doesn’t answer. He doesn’t even meet Ilya’s eyes. He stares down into an empty space on the kitchen counter, breathing heavily. And then Ilya spots it. They way Shane’s nose crunches even more; it makes his eyebrows crinkling a bit. They way his teeth are biting down on the inside of his cheeks, letting his jaw move in a very subtle way and bringing out the dimples around the corner of his mouth. Shane is so deep in his head; he doesn’t even notice how his lower lip is getting shove forward; making him pout.
Ilya’s posture sags, his anger leaving as fast as it popped up. He hangs his head between his still leaning arms, takes a deep breath and mutters something inappropriate in Russian under his breath. Then he straightens up and grabs his keys.
Shane, bless him, stares at him with a wave of concern growing onto his face. They never run away after an argument. “Where are you going?”, he asks with a tightened voice.
“To the store. Again.”, Ilya emphasizes this little word a little extra, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. “To get your stupid boring pasta.”
And fuck, he shouldn’t look at Shane and see how his face lights up like the pathetic, little Christmas tree they had for their first holidays together. His eyes grow bigger, his jaw relaxes, and the dimples literally explode around his mouth as Shane produces a big smile on his lips. “Really?”
Ilya points an accusing finger at him. “Stop doing that. I mean it, this is not ok.”
Shane’s smile falters a bit and he cocks his head at Ilya like a puppy. “Doing what?”
And yes, Ilya likes to strangle him – in a very polite way – because Shane actually doesn’t know what the fuck he is doing. He is genuinely clueless. Ilya loves him.
“I am not going to eat that, just so you know that.”, Ilya states as he makes his way to the door.
Three days later, Shane and Ilya sit on the couch watching a movie with their dinner plates on their laps. Today's dinner contains a tasty, creamy mushroom sauce and wholegrain spaghetti. Ilya is pretending to be offended while Shane happily digs into his plate like it’s the best thing he ever ate in his entire life.
December
“What do you mean this was supposed to be my present?!”
When Ilya woke up this morning, he never would have thought he might walk in on Shane standing in front of the snack drawer, holding what certainly looks like the customized journal that Ilya bought his boyfriend for Christmas. It is decorated with a cute little charm in form of two hockey sticks and bound in a soft brown leather; Shane's initials stitched neatly on the bottom. Christmas would happen in 5 days.
“Well, yes! Present.”
“Why the hell would you put it in the fucking snack drawer? And why isn’t it wrapped?!”, Shane looks at him in utter disbelief.
“Never once in my life did I see you at snack drawer! The only thing you snack is oats. You always tell me not to eat that crappy stuff, so I put it there because I knew you wouldn’t look there. And it was wrapped.”
“What, you mean that filthy piece of paper?!”, Shane wiggled the brown paper in front of Ilya's face that was wrapped around the journal.
“I didn’t have time yet to wrap!”
“Great, really great.”, Shane scoffs madly.
“How is it my fault you snoop around for your own presents now?!”, Ilya glares at him.
“I don’t snoop around! It practically fell into my hands. I was looking for a chocolate bar, I had a craving.”
“A craving.”, Ilya deadpans.
“Yes, a fucking craving! Don’t make this my fault now!”
Ilya crosses his arms in front of his chest, feeling smug all of a sudden. “You do know I found your present for me like a month ago?”
Shane scoffs again, cocking his hand on his hip. The other one still holds on to the journal. “You are lying.”
“Am I?”, Ilya pretends to think hard. “Because I really remember this… fancy, dark pair of very expensive shoes I once saw in this one online shop, and I swear I saw the same ones hidden in fucking laundry box.”
Oh, and the way Shane’s face falls like Ilya just declared to him he doesn’t want to get married, almost gets Ilya’s knee weakened. He looks guilty. His eyes glisten, his lips are pursed, and his fingers make this cute little twitching motions. And these damn freckles. Shane’s face got a little heated during their argument and it now brings out the freckles on his cheeks like the moon would pinpoint the stars. They scatter his boyfriend’s face like sprinkles a cake and Ilya hasn’t seen anything more beautiful in his life.
“Oh.”, is now the only thing that comes out of Shane’s mouth. He licks his lips and meets Ilya’s eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Ilya can’t help himself but approach Shane, taking the journal out of his hands and pull him close. He then kisses Shane’s cheeks, his nose and his forehead, peppering him with all the love he feels for this man. “We only apologize after argument.”
“This wasn’t an argument?”, Shane mumbles, clinging to Ilya.
“No. Argument needs me to be angry at you and I can’t be angry when your face looks like this.”
Shane studies Ilya, holding back a smile. “Like what?”
“Like that.”, Ilya gently maps Shane’s freckles with his thumbs, gliding from his nose over his cheeks until they reach his ears. “It’s like you have glitter on your face. Everything with glitter is better. If you like something, you put glitter on it.”
“I somehow can’t imagine you being in the same room as glitter.”, Shane’s smile is now spread all over his face. It makes him look soft and lovable.
“I am. Not only in the same room but also in same bed, same sport and same relationship.”, he kisses Shane’s nose again, enjoying the happiness covering Shane’s face like a blanket. Yes, Shane and his freckles are nothing to fight over.
February
“Would it actually kill you to pick up your fucking dirty socks from the ground?!”
Ilya is on the couch scrolling on his phone when he hears Shane yell from the bathroom. He sighs. His boyfriend has been cranky from the moment he got out of bed this morning. Apparently, he hasn’t slept well and if there are one or two more things out of line – today it has been the empty milk bottle and the sudden blizzard that erupted over Montreal and interrupted Shane’s morning run – then Shane’s emotions would be prone to be all over the place. And Ilya knows Shane usually doesn’t fight him over dirty socks on the ground; he might tease him a bit annoyed, but it isn’t like Ilya is a complete slob. Shane just likes it clean. So no, this isn’t a topic they would constantly argue over… but now, as Shane is standing in front of the couch, slapping said socks onto Ilya’s chest, the air thickens.
“Fucking hell?”, Ilya startles and glares at Shane who might have some actual steam coming out of his ears.
“The laundry box is two steps away; it’s not that hard!”
“Great, so now I can walk back to the bathroom to throw them into laundry. You could have just left them there, spare me extra steps.”
Wrong thing to say. “Oh, I’m sorry Sir Ilya for being an inconvenience. Maybe next time, don’t leave your fucking stuff on the ground and we wouldn’t need to make a problem out of it!”
“I’m not the one making a problem out of this!”, Ilya shoots back, finally losing his temper. “Go take a nap, you have been cranky whole day.”
“Cranky?!”, Shane hollers, pressing his hands into fists. He is trembling slightly. “I’m not cranky!”
“Yes! You get cranky when things don’t happen the way you like it and it’s messing with my head. Calm the fuck down, Shane.”, Ilya rolls his eyes at him.
Shane stares at him, lips pressed together. His jaw is so tight it looks like it might snap any second. And Ilya can see the moment when Shane’s emotion overwhelmed him without any warning – well, without a warning for Shane. Because Ilya has seen it a mile away. His boyfriend’s eyes are starting to fill up with tears, but they didn’t slip yet. His face is sweaty, and his body is shaking physically under the pressure of holding his emotions back. Shane thinks he is being subtle. He thinks nobody could see how worked up he is. Ilya never told him that this isn’t the case at all, because he knows Shane is still thriving on being able to control it. And Ilya doesn’t see why he should take this feeling of control away from Shane if it helps him cope.
Shane doesn’t cry to get out of arguments. He doesn’t even know he cries and that what makes Ilya’s anger dissipate. This isn’t something his boyfriend uses against him; this happens when Shane had an overwhelming day and doesn’t let himself live the emotions threatening to throttle him. And Ilya can’t continue any argument with him seeing Shane like that. The only thing he wants to do now, is taking him into a bear-tight hug. And that’s exactly what Ilya does now.
The fact Shane doesn’t protest in any way, but sags against Ilya, confirm his thoughts. He presses a kiss into Shane’s neck, rubs his back and sways them from side to side. Shane’s face is nestled into Ilya’s neck.
“How do you always know?”, Shane finally whispers so heavy, Ilya has to strain his ears to pick up the words.
“Know what?”
“Know what I need.”, Shane turns his head slightly, breathing against Ilya’s collarbone.
Ilya pulls back enough to look at Shane, smiling. He rubs his thumb under Shane’s eyes, like always when he mapped his boyfriend’s freckles. This time, he also gets rid of a stray tear without being too obvious. “Because I know you. And because you still love me with my dirty socks.”
Shane huffs a laugh, cradling his head back into Ilya’s neck. Seeking his comfort.
April
“We literally talked about it barely 2 weeks ago, how could you forget this already?!”, Shane annoyingly rubs his forehead like he would when somethings stresses him out. Right now, it is Ilya who apparently forgot about their appointment they had scheduled for today in the clinic for sexual diseases. They were both careful all the time and thankfully healthy since their first hookup, but Shane always said it is better to check regular and having to worry anytime. It somehow adapted to their routine. Ilya was supposed to pick Shane up after he returned from his gym session, but he forgot about it and went grab take-out for lunch instead.
Now, Shane is standing in the hallway when Ilya came home, asking him the same question over and over again.
“I just said I’m sorry, I forgot. It slipped my head.”
“It slipped your mind.”, Shane automatically corrects him.
And usually, Ilya isn’t bothered by it at all. No, he kind of loves being corrected by Shane like a little teacher and they tease each other most of the time. But right now, it makes Ilya mad. “You fucking know what I mean! Jesus Christ, it’s just an appointment. We make new one, not a problem.”
Ilya’s nonchalant behavior about this makes Shane even more furious. “Why can’t you just write things down to actually remember them?! Now I have to call them again, getting a new appointment in probably 2 months because it’s always a pain in the ass to get one early enough!”
“Ok, so what? Then we have it in June or July, what does it matter?”, Ilya is getting frustrated.
“We always have it in April! Every year, Ilya!”
Ilya presses two fingers against his eyes, trying to relieve the pressure building behind his eyes. “Yes, well, maybe you read day wrong? Who knows.”
Shane sputters loudly, stomping off to grab their calendar and his… oh no. His glasses. Slapping the calendar down on the table in the living room, he perched his glasses on his nose and points his finger very aggressively on today’s date. “Here! It says ‘April 6th, at 2pm. Does it or not? Is today April the 6th?!"
Ilya doesn’t hear a word Shane is saying to him. He stares at Shane and his glasses like they personally offended him – and in a way they just did. Because it isn’t right that Shane looks that cute and hot at the same time in this fucking glasses. The way they frame his face, edging the freckles under his eyes for better highlighting. It takes away Ilya’s breath.
“Hello, earth to Ilya?!”
Ilya can feel a smirk spreading across his own face, because he just couldn’t stop it happen.
“Why the hell are you grinning now?!”, Shane still tries to argue his point, being very offended by the fact his boyfriend is just smiling at him when he desperately wants to be angry at him.
“I love you.”, Ilya now says in the most simple way.
Effectively, it shuts Shane up. The lines on his face around the glasses smoothen out and Ilya couldn’t stop himself from simple approach Shane and pull him into a heated kiss. His boyfriend doesn’t hesitate a second. While Ilya grabs his face, he pushes Shane’s glasses slightly up his nose, feeling the cool metal on his own nose and cheeks. “Everything off but glasses.”, he finally whispers under heavy breathing into Shane’s ear.
“What? But… I am supposed to be angry at you.”, Shane weakly protests as Ilya kisses his neck.
“Oh, I think you will beg me for apology.”, Ilya smirks at him.
Shane is staring at him through his glasses. “I will not -.”, he breaks off when the words sink in. “Fuck, I love you.”
So, yes. Ilya will never win an argument against his boyfriend. Not now and probably not when they are gonna be married sooner or later. But that’s okay, because Shane isn’t aware of the weapons he carries with him and Ilya might love that about him. It’s what makes him so special and so… Shane.