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Ilya could not have asked for a better family than the Hollanders. They were quick to accept him as their own and they were unselfish of their love. It was new to Ilya, yes. His mother died young, his father was evil, his brother was cruel, so he never really felt how it was to have a loving and supportive family—aside from his team who he has always treated like his own brothers. But David and Yuna took him under their wing and took care of him for a change. It was nice, to finally be taken care of and not be the one who gives and gives and gives. So it wasn’t hard to feel comfortable around them. Especially if they always reiterate that he’s welcome in their home even if Shane wasn’t with him.
Shane was with him now though. They were hanging out in the cottage and the Hollanders invited them to their home for dinner. David had prepared the most delicious eggplant lasagna and took out his high quality Russian vodka after.
“Always good vodka, David!” Ilya clinked his and David’s glasses together. His stomach full and his heart warm with all the stories they’ve exchanged. He loves dinners with the Hollanders.
“Let me try?” Shane asked, looking unsure but curious. He was nursing his own ginger ale near his chest as he tilted his head towards Ilya beside him.
“You want to try good vodka, моя любовь?” Ilya exchanged looks with David as if they didn’t hear Shane clearly the first time.
“Yes, I want to try the vodka.” Shane deadpanned, placing his can of ginger ale down.
Yuna tsk-tsked. “You both are a bad influence on my son.” She sipped her own glass of wine glaring albeit fondly at David and Ilya.
“It’s just one glass,” David took Shane’s empty glass while batting his eyes sweetly at Yuna.
“Ah! Actually, I’ll just take a sip from Ilya’s.” Shane reached for Ilya’s glass who immediately placed it into Shane’s waiting palm.
“Go ahead.” Ilya nodded at him with a smile.
With a small sip, Shane blanched and scrunched his nose adorably that Ilya couldn't help his laugh bubbling out of him. He wrapped his hand around Shane’s nape and consolingly caressed the hair at the base of his neck.
“I think I’ll stick with my ginger ale for now.” Shane took a big gulp out of his almost empty can as they all watched him with endearment. The whole table loves Shane so much Ilya is lucky to have the privilege to share such love with Shane’s parents.
They were a few glasses in (and cans) of their favored liquors when Yuna had finally called for her boys to clean up and move the party to the living room. Ilya always jumped to help in tidying, feeling like it was the least he could do. He piled their plates and shooed away both Yuna and Shane who shook their heads at him fondly. David was already washing the cooking stuff he used as Ilya dropped more plates in the sink.
It was Ilya’s relaxed almost euphoric state or the vodka—most definitely the vodka—that made him too careless with the glasses. He took them in his hands, two on his left, two on his right, but as he turned around, he hit the breakfast bar in the middle of the kitchen and the dining room.
Ilya froze as he watched the glasses slip his palms and crash onto the floor with a loud deafening shatter. He heard Yuna’s gasp and the guilt crawled from his toes to his shoulders like he dipped himself in ice cold water. That sure sobered him up.
“I’m so sorry,” Ilya quickly said. He knelt on the floor, picking up the bigger pieces of broken glass and gathering them on his palm. He didn’t want to look up. He knew they were saying something to him. Irrationally his brain supplied it with ‘are you fucking stupid?’ and ‘you’ve always been a fuck up!’ Suspiciously, it all sounded like Andrei.
Ilya knew this glass David took out for vodka was an expensive one he bought when they travelled to London. He bought it as a souvenir and now he broke it. Its beautifully intricate glass design is on the floor of the Hollanders’ dining room and it’s all Ilya’s fault because he wasn’t careful enough, and he wasn’t paying attention enough, and he wasn’t doing enough.
“Ilya.” Shane’s hand took a hold of his wrist. Ilya hadn’t even realized that his hands were shaking.
Ilya felt a warm palm carefully brush his back and settle on his shoulder with a squeeze.
“Get on your feet, son.” It was David.
The command, however cautious his tone was, weighed on Ilya’s guilt more than ever. “I’m so sorry. I will fix it.” Ilya couldn’t move. He hadn’t even looked up. He knew Shane was squatting beside him now, hands still firmly around Ilya’s wrist who still held a glass shard in between his fingers. Yuna held out a plastic bag near his open palm where he had gathered the broken glass he picked up. She gingerly placed her own palm below Ilya’s shaking one and her thumb stroked his thumb once.
“Here. Put them in here.” She gently guided Ilya’s hand to tilt downward and the glass shards fell into the plastic bag.
Ilya shook his head. He doesn’t know what else to do but apologize.
“It’s okay, kid.” David said from above him. “You’re okay.”
“It’s just some glass, right?” Yuna tried to ease Ilya. But Ilya only nodded stiffly, his eyes still staring at the shattered mess in front of him.
‘You are so useless. You can’t even hold a glass without breaking them.’ Ilya’s shoulders stiffened in shock as he realized it was his father’s voice echoing in his head. ‘Always been stupid. Always been soft. Irina couldn’t even teach you how to behave well.’
“Hey.” Shane’s hand wrapped around Ilya’s arm. “Come on. Up on your feet.”
Ilya forgets how strong Shane is. He pulled him up, Ilya stumbling on his feet, and then he cupped his cheeks and made him look him in the eyes. A light pat on Ilya’s cheek to snap him out of his own head made Ilya blink his eyes rapidly.
“There you are. You went somewhere there.”
“I’m sorry.” Ilya repeated, because what else could he say?
“Is this your Canadian passport talking? With the amount of apologies you can say in a few seconds?” Shane tried to jest. He chuckled softly, but when Ilya only gave him a weak smile, he sighed.
Shane looked behind Ilya and then the latter felt the same warm palm on his back a few seconds ago. David squeezed his shoulder again.
“You’re alright. It was just some glass.” David repeated Yuna’s words as if speechless himself. “More importantly, let’s see what you’ve got there.” David coaxed Ilya’s palm where there was a bit of blood trickling out of a wound.
“Oh.” Ilya said, finally feeling the sting on his palm.
“Come here.” Yuna reached for Ilya’s hand and led him to the living room. She was holding their first aid kit in her arm as she determinedly held onto Ilya on her other hand. “Let them clean up, it’s fine.”
Yuna sat him down on the couch, his back was still straight and he was sitting on the edge. Yuna quickly got to work, cleaning the wound and putting on some ointment before closing it with a bandaid.
“There you go.” Yuna said and placed Ilya’s hand on his lap with a satisfied smile.
“Thank you.” Ilya said, ever polite, just like his mother taught him. He was looking at the bandaid with a crease on his eyebrows. His thoughts wandered to his own mother, kissing his bruises after a particularly bad hockey practice. With a painful pang in his chest, he missed his mother so much. He curled his fingers and tried to stop himself from falling apart in front of Yuna. He’s already embarrassed himself enough.
Yuna hesitantly placed a hand on Ilya’s cheek. The gesture so maternal Ilya couldn’t stop the tears from escaping at the corners of his eyes. He didn’t sob. He cried silently, accepting the comfort Yuna was giving him.
After a few moments of quiet where Yuna let Ilya collect himself, she brushed away his tears and squeezed his hand before clasping her fingers on her lap.
The two of them were staring at Yuna’s hands when she finally spoke, “David and I love you, you know that right?”
Ilya made a small grunt-like sound of acknowledgment. He knew that, of course. But still, his mind was a mess and sometimes, it’s louder than any rational reason anyone can give him. And sometimes it screams painful nonsense at him, and he can do nothing but listen to it.
“We love you like our own.” Yuna said quietly, as if not wanting to startle Ilya. “And we would never…hurt you,” Yuna’s voice broke at the end of her sentence. She placed her hand at the side of his neck and soothingly brushed her thumb on his ear.
Ilya has seen Yuna do this comforting gesture to Shane plenty of times. He has also seen how it works on Shane all the time, immediately relaxing upon his mother’s touch and the whispered reassurance she gives him.
Now, it’s working on Ilya too. He felt his shoulders relaxing, the previous stiffness making his muscles sore. He closed his eyes, nodded, and let himself believe Yuna’s words. Yuna could be anything she wanted to be, but she was never a liar. And so, Ilya leaned into her comfort and breathed in slowly, willing his body to soften, to lay his guard down because he’s safe with them, always.
They were supposed to drive back to the cottage but it was Shane’s idea that they sleep in his old childhood bedroom. It was dark, Shane hadn’t turned the lamp on, the only light was from the moon outside, the curtains giving way to the silver glow of it seeping into the room. Shane led him to the bed. It was small, not really meant for two big adult men. But Shane insisted, as he pulled Ilya beside him and wrapped his limbs around him, resting his chin on the crook of Ilya’s nape. Ilya held onto Shane’s hand resting on his stomach. He felt Shane leave small kisses on his neck and Ilya closed his eyes. Shane raised Ilya’s wounded palm to his lips and pressed a kiss on the bandaid, Ilya’s heart beating faster at the gesture. Again his mind strayed to his mother who kissed his wounds better when he was young, the necklace around his neck burning into his skin as if his mother was responding to his thoughts.
“I love you so much.” Ilya said. He’s at the safest place he’s ever felt and with his guard all down, he couldn’t stop himself from saying, “I am so thankful for Yuna and David for giving me you. And I am so thankful to you for giving me Yuna and David.”
“You’re ours now.” Shane tightened his limbs around Ilya’s body. “Ya-tee-bya-loo-blue.” Shane sounded out. It earned a giggle out of Ilya.
“Yours always, мой любимый.”
The next morning, Ilya wakes up on the floor with Shane half dangling off the bed. He did nothing but laugh at his husband—kissing him awake and teasing him about hogging the bed all to himself. Shane’s half-hearted protest and low chuckles a sweet sound to his ears that spread heat across his body, making his guilt from the night a distant feeling. He’s safe where he was.