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It truly doesn't occur to Ilya until he's making lunch on a Sunday while venting to Shane—sitting on the other side of the kitchen island—about the absolute incompetent trainer he has been assigned by the Raiders this season that he has never done this before.
The realization is so out of the blue that he stops mid sentence and just… stares at Shane for a moment. His boyfriend, unaware of his internal turmoil, looks at him frowning, waiting for him to finish saying why Kevin Mathews is a walking talking cardboard cutout of a person with zero personality and common sense and how Ilya wouldn't be going on a fucking juice cleanse even if he dies.
“Ilya?” Shane asks.
Ilya just keeps staring. He's dangerously close to fucking bursting into tears and he's not even cutting onions so that he could blame it on them.
Fuck! He's never really done this before. He's never… talked unfiltered and unthinking before. He's always had to measure his words, despite his reputation of being a mouthy motherfucker. He always kept most of what he wanted to say to himself and said only half truths and spoke only half of his mind. Even with Sveta he speaks in measures, not letting her see his vulnerable parts, scared that she'll see something that'll ruin everything. Their friendship is so important to Ilya. There were times in his life it was the only thing keeping him afloat apart from hockey maybe. And she had been the only one he spoke most freely with.
Even with Shane he had to hide a huge part of himself for nearly a decade. Until…
“You can talk to me in Russian. Maybe I won't understand but maybe it'll help?”
Until…
“Let's just be honest with each other these two weeks, okay?”
Until…
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Shane asks but he's smiling, so blissfully unaware of what he has done for Ilya.
“I just had… what you call a sudden thought?”
“An idea?”
Ilya flicks his hand dismissively. “No. More solid. Realize something.”
Shane thinks for a beat.
“An epiphany?” he is still smiling, fondness evident in his features.
“Da! An epiphany. Good word. I like it.”
Shane chuckles. “What is it?”
“What is what?”
“The epiphany you just had.”
“Oh,” Ilya shrugs. “That you are my best friend.”
Shane is silent for a moment before he sputters out, “What?”
Ilya shrugs again. “Da. You are. I don't talk to anyone like this. So… freely. My father hardly let me speak. Alexie never cared. I am reserved with everybody else. But with you, I can just talk and not think too much about it. It feels good.”
Shane is apparently at loss of what to say. So Ilya tries to dismiss it. “Is no big deal, Hollander.”
It's actually a pretty fucking big deal. Ilya is in his mid twenties and he just realized he's never had a best friend. It's a juvenile thing, but it feels monumental anyway. Plus, he knows that he's not Shane's best friend. Hayden Pike has that title. Has had it long before Ilya even made a significant impression in Shane's life. And he's not bitter about it. Not at all. Nope. Nyet. Nada.
“What about Svetlana?”
Shane's tone is cautious.
“She's a very good friend. She has been there for me. Always,” Ilya admits. “But I don't talk to her about the boring details of my life.”
“No?”
“No. I save the boring for you.”
Shane smiles. It's one of those beautiful smiles of his that brings out his freckles, puts a twinkle in his eyes, and makes Ilya fall in love with him all over again.
“I think,” Shane pauses a beat and looks at his hand. “You're my best friend too.”
And Ilya's heart doesn't squeeze at that. No, absolutely not. This is childish. Grown men don't need best friends. This is stupid. But, he's never wanted to be anyone's best friend so badly before.
“I mean Hayden is great,” Shane is trying to provide an explanation. Ilya scoffs.
“I disagree.”
Shane shoots him a look. “He is great. When I was a rookie, he really helped me feel welcome. I love him and Jackie and the kids. And JJ too.”
Ilya rolls his eyes. Leave it to his boyfriend for feeling guilty while having a private conversation with none of the aforementioned people present.
“But I always felt like no one really… got me, you know?” Shane looks at him like he might know. And yes, Ilya does know. He knows it better than anyone else maybe.
“Even when I was a kid, nobody in the playpen would play with me or share toys or lunches. We had an even number of kids in our class and I was still left by myself.”
Shane shoots Ilya a smile and Ilya now wants to have a beef with a bunch of preschoolers.
“It bothered mom a lot. I was mostly happy being left to my own devices. But until you, I didn't think I needed someone who understands me. Everyone else knows and sees what I want them to. You, on the other hand, just see me. I can't hide from you even if I want to.”
Ilya's chest feels so full. But he still has to ask, “Do you want to? Hide from me?”
The look Shane gives him is answer enough. But he still says it. “Not anymore, no.”
Ilya nods. He goes back to mixing the salads. When he started making this green monstrosity, he didn't have a best friend. Now he does.
“For the record, I would share my toys with you,” he says and hears Shane snorts. “But I would probably eat most of your lunch.”
“No you wouldn't,” Shane calls him out. “You'd probably give up your favorite snacks if I asked you to. I was an adorable kid.”
Ilya has seen the pictures. And Shane is unfortunately absolutely right.
“Probably,” he admits.
“I love you.”
It still surprises Ilya every time Shane says those three words unprompted to him. It fills him with unexplainable joy. It makes him thank a god he's not sure he believes in.
“I love you too, Hollander.”
"So this juice cleanse—"
"No."
"Oh c'mon it sounds healthy!"
"Exactly."