Work Text:
Ilya doesn’t know what it’s like to live without grief. He’s been grieving so many things for so long that he doesn’t remember what it was like before he ever had anything to grieve, he doesn’t remember a life before he had this tight vice around his ribs, around his heart. He’s been grieving his mama for more time than he had her in his life and the unfairness of it all never quite stops feeling like he’s being choked and some days are incredibly harder than others.
He knows it will be one of those bad days from the moment he wakes up. His head feels heavy and his nose itches in the way he knows means he’s five seconds and a minor upset from bawling his eyes out and, worst of all, not even Shane breathing open-mouthed into his neck feels like a deterrent to his tears. He lays in bed staring at the ceiling and seeing the shadows shift with the sun rising, making lists in his head because Galina told him to think about good things when it get bad, when he starts to understand his mama a little bit too much.
He thinks about all of the ways that Shane loves him. He paid for all of Ilya’s pictures of and with his mama to be professionally restored from their sorry state. He reminds Ilya of his meds every day and leaves notes for Ilya to see when he can’t be there to do it in person. He cooks Ilya his favorite dishes, he wasted one of his rare off days in New York to find a russian grocery store and buy Ilya all the snacks he mentioned missing. Last week he tripped in the dark because he refused to wake Ilya up with his phone flashlight and only fell on his ass when Ilya giggled at his struggle to stay upright.
As if awoken by Ilya thinking about him, Shane starts stirring. First smacking his lips and yawning and then blinking awake slowly, like the sun rising over the horizon, Ilya loves him so much he feels like his heart isn’t his own anymore. When he fully wakes Ilya has first seat to the way Shane lights up when he sees that Ilya is not only awake but already looking at him.
“Good morning, baby.” Shane says, voice raspy with sleep. Ilya knows that today will be bad because his cock doesn’t stir even a little despite how sexy it is to have Shane calling him baby in that voice.
“Good morning, любимый.” Ilya replies, kissing the tip of Shane’s nose and smiling at the way his face scrunches with it.
“Anything happen?” Shane asks in a low voice, careful, lifting his hand to play with Ilya’s curls (and Svetlana still asks him why he refuses to wear a bonnet to bed).
“Just will be a bad day, i think.” Ilya answers truthfully, patting himself in the back for it because Galina told him that acknowledging he did something he considers hard is important in his journey to do better for himself (because she told him he should want to do better for himself before wanting to do better for someone else).
“Oh, my baby,” Shane says, lifting himself up to kiss Ilya’s forehead, still playing with his curls “I’ll take care of you.”
Ilya feels his nose burn a bit with the effort to hold in his tears, he tells himself he’s trying not to cry because he doesn’t want the headache that comes with that kind of crying instead of him avoiding showing emotion in front of Shane. His boyfriend just kisses his cheeks and then his nose and then the lines that show up between Ilya’s eyebrows when he scrunches his nose.
“You always take care of me.” Ilya tells him, a bit more choked up than what he’s comfortable with (he congratulates himself for not immediately throwing himself under the covers and refusing to come out, Galina should be SO proud).
“Then I'll take care of you twice as hard.” Shane affirms, the competitive little shit, Ilya would fight and win wars for him.
“Don’t know how that is even possible.” Ilya tells him, narrowing his eyes and lifting an eyebrow to make the face he knows never fails to make Shane giggle. The sound like wind chimes and jingling bells and all things good. Ilya thinks that if this sound was bottled up it would certainly be the perfect antidepressant for him to take, it would cure his depression immediately. (And see here, Galina, he’s admitting he has depression! Another victory in such a terrible day! Ilya is crushing this depressive episode).
“Of course it’s possible,” Shane scoffs, lifting himself up and swinging his leg so that he’s sitting in Ilya’s lap and leaning over him, hair falling into his beautiful face “I’m gold medalist in the caretaking olympics, didn’t you know?”
The giggle Ilya lets out would have made his eighteen year old self cringe in either jealousy or embarrassment but twenty nine year old Ilya is elated. Oh to be loved by Shane Hollander so much that it has him making cheeky jokes because he knows i’ll laugh. Ilya wants to laugh and he wants to cry and he wants to open both of them up and swap their hearts so that he knows it’s his heart beating in Shane’s chest and keeping him alive, that it’s his love moving him forward. It’s a bit disturbed of a thought to have but as Galina would say “You need to let yourself think your own thoughts and feel your own feelings and not immediately make any judgments on what they are, no matter how disturbing you think they might be.” He once told her that he was disturbed, ask anyone, and the only reaction he got was a raised eyebrow and the sound of her making a note on her little notebook.
“You are embarrassing, Hollander, that’s what you are.” Ilya deflects because he can feel how hot his face is with the way Shane is smiling down at him.
“Embarrassingly in love with you, maybe.” Shane says cheekily, laughing brightly at the way Ilya makes a noise akin to a boiling kettle and hides his face. He feels Shane leaving little kisses all over the hands covering his face before getting up and out of bed.
He sneaks a glance at Shane from the gaps between his fingers and is basically hit in the face with the fond smile on his boyfriend’s pretty face. He feels his heart thundering and he also feels his eyes becoming heavy, he’s tired all of a sudden. Shane must see the shift on his expression because he just gives him another of his bright fond smiles and kisses Ilya’s hair.
“Go back to sleep, baby,” Shane whispers, kissing his curls again and smiling prettily, all Ilya can think is that he does everything prettily because he’s so pretty “I’ll wake you up once I'm back from my run and have breakfast ready.”
Ilya hums sleepily and lets himself fall back into a restless sleep until he’s carefully awoken by Shane lightly shaking him awake. He yawns widely and stares at Shane with his eyes half open, admiring the slight pink beneath his boyfriend’s freckles.
“Good morning again, sleeping beauty, i have breakfast.” Shane whispers, carding fingers through his hair and smiling down at Ilya like an angel sent from heaven to make sure Ilya stays alive and breathing.
“Not sleeping beauty,” Ilya grumbles, burying his face on the pillow and staring at Shane with only one eye “my cruel prince did not wake me up with a kiss.”
Shane giggles again, covering his mouth and looking away with cheeks even pinker, Ilya wants to bite them. His nose burns again and he takes a deep breath and promises himself he will not cry, he has nothing to cry for, he will not ruin an otherwise perfect morning with his tears. (In the back of his mind he can see Galina shaking her head and writing something down in that cursed notebook of hers).
“Your prince does not want to taste your morning breath.” Shane tells him, acquiescing and giving Ilya a little peck on the mouth, pulling away before Ilya can try to deepen the kiss. Ilya grumbles again but sits up enough for Shane to hand him his plate. There’s a BLT sandwich (a favorite of his) along with what must be apple slices cut up in a curious shape.
“What are these?” Ilya asks, points at the apple slices. Shane goes even pinker, the blush now spreading up to his ears and down to his neck.
“Rabbit shaped apple slices,” Shane murmurs, looking down at said apple slices with a little smile on his face “mom used to cut them like this for me when i was grumpy as a child, i thought i might cheer you up.”
Ilya immediately feels the burn on his nose again, except this time he doesn’t fight it. He gently puts the plate down on his side table and then he covers his face with his hands and sobs loudly, wetly, shoulders shaking with the strength of his crying. He feels Shane sit down in bed and pull him into a hug, rubbing his back and shushing softly, saying sweet nothings in hope to comfort him. Ilya feels so much love he could explode with it. He can’t remember how long it’s been since someone has done something so simple as to cut fruit for him, let alone to make silly little animal shaped slices just for a chance that it might cheer him up. The last time someone cut fruit for me was the last summer mama was alive. He remembers suddenly. It was late summer and i was upset over something silly and she sliced peaches up for me. He feels himself shudder, a sob choked on his throat. She served them with yogurt because i hadn’t eaten lunch, father was mad and i couldn’t stomach it. And she gave me sliced peaches with yogurt.
He cries for a long time, loudly and desolated, he rests his forehead against Shane’s warm neck and lets himself be lost in his grief. He doesn’t know how long it is before he finally manages to calm down and breathe, all he knows is Shane’s soft words and warm hand on his back, a soft kiss on his curls.
“Sorry.” Ilya apologizes, feeling both ashamed and relieved, Shane just shakes his head.
“No apologies, you’re having a bad day,” Shane tells him, frowning when Ilya shakes his head “what did Galina said about apologizing for your feelings?”
“I should have never told you about her.” Ilya grumbles, resting his head on Shane’s shoulder again. Another kiss is pressed against his curls. “It made me think about my mama.”
“Oh.” Shane says, probably surprised, Ilya knows he barely talks about his mama, the hurt is still too raw most days.
“I couldn’t remember the last time someone cut fruit for me, after she died” Ilya confesses in a rushed whisper, kissing Shane’s shoulder when he lets out a small hurt sound “she cut me peaches and brought them to me with yogurt.”
Shane shushes him again when he takes a ragged breath, kissing Ilya’s temple and humming a bit against his ear.
“Let’s make a deal then,” Shane proposes, Ilya is not looking at him but he can hear the smile on his voice, the smile he only ever gives Ilya “you peel tangerines for me and i cut fruit for you, for as long as you want.”
Ilya nods, kissing Shane’s shoulder again, before lifting his head. He kisses Shane’s jaw and then his temple, nuzzles against his cheek.
“For forever, then.” Ilya says, serious and then smiling wide at the way Shane’s entire face lights up.
“We have a deal.” Shane says, pressing their foreheads together.
Ilya closes his eyes, breathes deep and lets himself be loved.