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June 15. Shane had carefully marked that day in his calendar.
Ilya’s birthday.
No, not just Ilya’s birthday – the first birthday they would get to celebrate, together.
Shane had actually been the one to invite him over, had invited him to spend the weekend at his place. It would perfectly align, really, with Ilya’s birthday being on a Friday. He only had morning practice that day and then would be off for the weekend – a rare enough occurrence, which made this a possibility.
Ilya was looking forward to it, actually. Hesitantly so, because in recent years, he had either spent his birthdays by himself or with teammates. The latter had been nice, really; they had made a genuine effort to make sure he felt celebrated, but there had always been something missing. Shane, perhaps, or maybe just the feeling of being surrounded by loved ones.
He didn’t want to create any pressure, didn’t want to arrive at Shane’s place with expectations, but this still felt meaningful, felt like another step in their relationship.
Shane, in what had probably been a moment of overconfidence, had decided that Ilya really deserved a birthday cake. Not just a birthday cake, a homemade birthday cake.
Like, how hard could this be?
Harder than Shane had anticipated, as it turned out, when he found himself facing a cake that was somehow simultaneously gooey on the inside and burnt to a crisp on the outside, the smoke alarm mocking him until he almost knocked it off the ceiling.
The internet had said it was an easy recipe – chocolate vanilla marble cake, nothing too fancy, nothing too plain. Two flavours, at least.
Shane had underestimated his inability to bake, even when he was trying to follow the recipe to a T.
Having to call his dad felt embarrassing, but he really needed some help here. The clock already read 4 pm, Ilya was expected to arrive in a little less than three hours. This was Shane’s personal nightmare, but he wanted this to be nice for Ilya. Because Ilya deserved nice things, and a birthday cake was definitely nice.
He set up a video call with his dad, who guided him through each step, reminding him to breathe, reminding him that he was doing great. He sensed that Shane was anxious, wanted this to be perfect, which didn’t make the situation any easier, but after some very calm, very clear instructions, they eventually got to the point of Shane putting the cake into the oven, letting out the longest sigh ever.
“Cake should be ready just in time. Give it some time to cool off, then you can add the chocolate,” David told him, and Yuna popped up on the screen just then, “tell him happy birthday from us again and remind him that we expect to see you for a birthday dinner as soon as you can.”
Shane nodded, happy to relay the information, even happier because he knew Ilya would love hearing about the invitation. He thanked his dad once more and then began cleaning up the mess he had created in the process of making the cake, knowing he wouldn’t get around to it once Ilya was there.
He breathed a sigh of relief when he got the cake out of the oven, and it actually looked like something that might just be edible. Sure, it looked a little wonky, but he managed to put it onto a plate after letting it cool off for a few minutes like his dad had told him to, and with some chocolate on top to cover up the imperfections, it didn’t look terrible. Add a candle to it, and the cake was ready to go.
Somehow, Shane was still nervous that Ilya might not like it, but he didn’t allow himself to linger on that fear.
Instead, he neatly arranged the cake on the table, retrieved the present he had gotten from his bedroom and placed it close by, and took a final, deep breath, assuring himself that this was enough. Ilya had, after all, insisted on keeping it simple, and he wanted to honour that.
The doorbell rang moments later, Shane moving quickly to let Ilya in, barely waiting until the door had closed behind him to wrap his arms around him. Missing him had gotten harder since they had confessed their feelings for each other, but it made their reunions sweeter, too.
A soft “Hey” was all he got out before his lips found Ilya’s, who did not seem to mind this greeting at all.
Shane still got a little nervous those first few moments, but Ilya found it endearing and let Shane take his hand and pull him along, all while trying to make small talk, asking about practice and his flight.
Ilya didn’t care about any of that, but he cared about Shane, so he entertained him, until Shane turned around to look at him before entering the kitchen.
“I…uh. I made something. Please don’t laugh. It’s not- I tried, okay?” Shane was properly anxious now, and any amusement on Ilya’s face faded in an instant when he saw how serious Shane was about this.
He cupped his face, looked at him, soft, gentle, “Hey, it’s okay. I will not laugh.”
Shane nodded, slowly, taking a final steadying breath, before pulling Ilya towards the dining table.
He didn’t say anything, but neither did Ilya for a long moment. Instead, he took in the sight in front of him – the cake, candle lit, two small plates, a wrapped present. Simple, perfect.
And then, it dawned on him. That did not look like a store-bought cake. No, Shane must have baked that cake. For him.
Ilya did not remember the last time he had a homemade cake.
Wrong. He remembered exactly the last time he had a homemade cake – it had been his 12th birthday.
He turned to Shane, expression soft, looking into Shane’s eyes, which were filled with uncertainty.
“It’s okay if you don’t-“ Shane tried but was cut off by Ilya, who shook his head, soft but firm.
“It’s perfect,” he whispered. Shane's shoulders began to relax, and he nodded to himself in that way Ilya had learned was self-regulation.
He took both of Shane’s hands, which were faintly trembling, into his own and leaned in for a kiss.
“Thank you,” he murmured against his lips, before pulling away.
All tension drained from Shane’s body then, at last, and he managed a small smile, “make a wish,” while nodding towards the cake.
Ilya easily returned the smile, easily followed the order, though he knew there was little he could even wish for in this moment.
With the candle blown out, wish made, they finally sat down, Shane carefully cutting two slices from the cake, plating them before looking at Ilya.
“I hope chocolate and vanilla is okay.”
“I like both,” Ilya looked almost mischievous, and the remark actually made Shane smile.
They began to eat, but for a moment, all Ilya could do was focus on Shane, who was, much to his surprise, actually eating the cake. Shane, who was usually so strict about his diet, was actually eating cake in front of him.
He did not point it out, did not want him to feel insecure, so he quickly focused on his own slice, but smiled to himself, humming at the first bite.
“Is good,” his smile was genuine, and Shane relaxed further, relief washing over him.
“I actually burned the first one,” he admitted, sheepishly, but there was a grin tugging on the corners of his lips.
“No way,” Ilya light-heartedly laughed.
“Yeah. Had to call my dad. Turns out I won’t be a baker after I retire.”
Ilya grinned at that, couldn’t help himself, because he loved that side of Shane.
“My mum told me to tell you that she expects us over for a birthday dinner, as soon as we’re both in Ottawa again. They’ve been waiting for this all year, I think,” Shane told Ilya, who softened when he heard that.
“We will. It’s very nice of them,” Ilya sounded slightly more emotional now, and Shane smiled and nodded, before taking his next bite.
When they had finished eating the cake, Shane put the dishes away before carefully moving the present over, trying to push down the anxiety that was bubbling up again.
“I know you said I didn’t need to get you anything, but- I wanted to. It’s- well, see for yourself,” his eyes flickered between Ilya and the present.
Something about Shane’s anxiety alerted Ilya that this wasn’t just a simple present, so he very carefully pulled it close and began opening it, wondering what it could possibly be.
His breath got caught in his throat when he discovered what was inside. He instantly recognised the colours, the pattern, before he ever picked it up to unfold it.
When he did, he came face to face with a hand-knit sweater. He knew that much because there was no way any brand was selling this exact design.
Because this design did not exist outside of the one his mother had made for him when he had barely been eight years old. A fond memory, one of the rare memories he actually had pictures of.
Pictures he had shown to Shane one day, after he had softly asked if he had any pictures from his childhood.
He didn’t have many, but the ones he did have, he kept close.
Shane must have memorised the exact colours and pattern. Must have asked someone to recreate it in his size.
Ilya didn’t know what to say. Sniffed once, twice. Stared at it. Didn’t even fight the tears pooling in his eyes.
“It’s okay if you don’t-“ Shane wanted to offer Ilya an easy way out, but Ilya shook his head. Carefully set the sweater down before getting up to pull Shane up and into a hug.
He was almost clinging to Shane, and that’s when Shane understood and returned the hug with a matching intensity, holding Ilya close while he processed his feelings.
“Спасибо. Thank you. Is perfect. I love it,” Ilya eventually managed to get out.
Shane pulled away, just enough to see Ilya, to brush away a few stray tears from his cheek with his thumb.
“You remembered,” Ilya said, voice sounding a little rough.
Shane nodded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“Yeah, because it mattered. To you.”
Ilya leaned in for a kiss in lieu of a reply, this one being gentler, conveying all the things he could not find the words for right now. He didn’t need to; Shane understood him anyway.
Later, when they settled down on the couch, it was actually Ilya who curled into Shane, and Shane was more than happy to hold him, mindlessly running his fingers up and down his arm in a soothing manner.
“Good birthday?” Shane asked, voice quiet, gentle. Comforting.
“Best I have had in years,” Ilya nodded, letting the gratitude and love wash over him, knowing he would have a lot more birthdays to look forward to from now on.
8 years later
“Hey, Cal, want to help me surprise papa?” Shane stood in the kitchen, crouching in front of their son, trying to get him to focus for long enough to listen to him.
It was hard these days, with Callen always being on the move, ready to explore, ready to cause chaos around the house. He was surprisingly agile for a two-year-old, but the mention of both a surprise and his papa seemed to grab his attention.
“Papa, surprise,” he nodded with a grin, without even knowing what the surprise was going to be.
“Great. Because I could use some help with the cake we are going to make for his birthday. Think you can help with that?” Shane asked with a smile, though he was already mentally bracing for the mess.
“Cake, daddy!” came an enthusiastic squeal, blond curls bouncing a little with the excitement, and Shane chuckled and picked him up to put him into the tower they had gotten for the kitchen.
“Okay, but it’s very important that we listen to the instructions, okay?” Shane tried to remind the boy, very well knowing that this was a losing battle.
First, it was the flour that ended up all over the counter and floor, then Callen, too, with delighted giggles. Then, and Shane realised his mistake the second it happened, an egg ungracefully landed in the bowl with big chunks of the shell.
By the time they made it to the finished batter, he found Callen unceremoniously shoving his entire small hand into it, with every intention to taste test, the giggles echoing throughout their home just as Ilya came back home from a coaching session.
He walked into the kitchen to find Shane holding their son, who was doused in flour from head to toe, chocolate on his face and what looked like batter on one hand, dangling him in the air, in an attempt to get him to the bathroom, horror written across his face, while Callen kept giggling.
Ilya instantly softened and greeted Shane with an understanding smile.
“Busy morning?”
“That’s one way to put it,” Shane sighed, clearly trying to overcome his aversion to messes but rapidly failing to hide his discomfort.
“Let me,” Ilya easily retorted, reaching out to take Callen from Shane, not caring about the mess. He needed a shower anyway.
Shane breathed out the second Callen was in Ilya’s arms.
“Thank you.”
“No problem,” Ilya nodded, then grinned at the boy in his arms, “did you have fun with daddy?”
Callen vigorously nodded, “Surprise, papa!”
Shane softened considerably at that, relieved that despite his own hangups, their son had still enjoyed himself.
“Oh, is that so?” Ilya seriously asked, barely biting back a smile.
“Uh huh!” Callen nodded again, and Shane couldn’t help but chuckle.
“We are still working on what a surprise means. We were trying to make your birthday cake. Batter is ready to go into the oven now. I won’t let him help with the chocolate, though,” Shane shook his head in amusement.
“Chocolate, daddy!” Callen shouted, and Ilya chuckled, kissing his cheek.
“On the cake, malysh, okay? But first we both need a shower.”
Callen did look like he was about to make a fuss for a second, but thankfully, he loved showers with Ilya just as much, which made him forget about the chocolate matter for now.
“Thanks,” Shane repeated, and Ilya came close enough for a kiss, mindful to keep their son out of the way.
“I will help with the kitchen,” Ilya told Shane, who was about to protest.
“It’s your birthday.”
“Yes, and I will help with the mess if I want to.”
Shane really couldn’t argue with that, but fondly watched Ilya walk down the hall with their son, who was trying to tell him all about the cake-making adventures, which Ilya was listening to with rapt attention.
When both Cal and their kitchen were clean again, and the cake was ready to be eaten, Shane turned to Ilya, who was trying to keep their son away from the cake on the table with a carefree grin.
“Happy birthday,” Shane murmured as he leaned in for a brief, gentle kiss.
“Happiest birthday,” Ilya smiled, before blowing out the candle on the cake, realising, once again, that he had gotten so much more than he had wished for all those years ago, and would spend the rest of his days thanking the universe for the family he got to call his own.