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“Uh, I’m sorry, this, I can’t…”
“Hollander.”
“I just, I can’t uh, I can’t do this.”
“Hollander.”
“I’m sorry.”
What the fuck just happened.
Ilya feels like something is squeezing his heart in a vice grip. His stomach feels like it's filled with lead. Things have just gone downhill so quickly he feels frozen in place, completely and utterly confused. He doesn’t understand how he just went from mindblowing orgasm to heartbreak in a matter of seconds.
When he’d accidentally let slip Shane as he came he’d felt a brief stab of anxiety in his stomach at his mistake. But then he’d heard his own first name fall from Shane’s lips for the first time with such soft reverence, he’d instantly felt relieved, elated even. To him, it was confirmation of something he’d only recently allowed himself to notice. Shane felt something more between them too. Not that it wasn’t terrifying, but knowing they were in this together made Ilya feel like he could handle it.
But then suddenly Shane was pulling away, panicking, lying, leaving. His lap feels empty and cold without him.
No. No. No.
The sudden sound of Shane’s sneakers scuffing the hardwood floor by the front door snaps him out of his daze. He can’t just let him go, not like this. He’s up off the couch so fast he’s a little lightheaded but he ignores it as he practically runs barefoot down the hall towards Shane. Apparently he has no shame anymore.
“Hollander, wait!”
He watches Shane’s shoulders tense up as he reaches for his keys but he doesn’t stop moving, doesn’t turn around. Ilya feels desperation crawling up his throat as he gets closer.
“Shane, please.”
Shane inhales a sharp breath, freezing in place as he stays facing the door.
Ilya approaches him cautiously, afraid to spook him. “Don’t go. I’m sorry, okay?”
He barely knows what he’s apologizing for but it feels like the right thing to say. Ilya is always fucking up when it comes to Shane. Clearly, he’s done something wrong to make him freak out like this. It’s always his fault and he knows it.
Shane takes a deep, shaky breath but doesn’t say anything. He jumps a little when Ilya places a hand on his shoulder, tugging him gently to turn him around. Shane turns but silently shrugs off his hand, refusing to look at him. Still, Ilya can see tears stuck to his lashes and his heart feels exponentially worse. He needs to fix this.
“Hey, hey, what’s going on, why are you so upset?”
He desperately wants to just wrap Shane up in his arms and stroke his hair some more but he doesn’t think that would go over so well.
“I’m not upset.” Shane mutters to his feet, sniffling.
“Moya lyubov, you are crying.” The endearment slips out and fuck he is really messing up today. Luckily, Shane doesn't seem to register it.
“I’m not - I mean I’m just…” He huffs a sigh and swipes angrily at his eyes as he stares out the window. “...it’s nothing, I just, need to go okay.”
“Hollander, I know you don’t have team meeting, you are terrible liar I have told you this.”
Shane crosses his arms tight across his chest and just shrugs, but he stays where he is. Surely if he really wanted to leave, he’d be gone. Right?
“Just tell me. Whatever I did, whatever it is, I can fix.” He’s well aware he sounds desperate at this point but fuck it, he is desperate.
Shane finally looks up at him, the confusion and sadness in his wet, soft doe eyes hurting Ilya’s heart. His voice has gone so quiet, so defeated. “Why are you doing this?”
“Doing what?”
“Acting like, like this.”
“Like what?”
Shane’s eyes well with tears again and he huffs out a frustrated, broken sound as he stutters through a reply. “Like you, like you fucking care.”
Ilya’s lost. His brain feels fuzzy with emotion and he really wishes he could speak Russian right now. “Care about what?”
Shane throws his hands up. “Oh my god. About me. A-about, about us.”
Oh. Wasn’t it obvious?
“Is not ‘acting’, it’s…I do care.” Shane’s eyes widen but he stays silent like he’s waiting for more, so Ilya tries harder. “Is why I asked you to stay, to hang out.”
Shane looks conflicted, like he’s not quite sure what to believe. “But. We don’t do that. Ever. We fuck, we leave, that’s it.”
True, but. “Mm, I wanted more. And I thought maybe you did too. Do you not, did you not like it?”
Shane shakes his head quickly, sniffling a little. “No, I, it was…it was nice. I just, I don’t understand what changed?”
Ilya wonders how embarrassingly honest he should be at this point. Fuck it. He’s supposed to be trying.
“Svetlana, my friend, she helped. She said I needed ‘intervention’, says I am ‘obsessed’ with my Jane for years. She says she can tell I like you, that I want more than just sex, and I should stop being such a чёртов идиот and ask you out. But you and I, we cannot do this, go out, so I ask you to stay in, cook at home, hang out, talk.”
Shane looks stunned and Ilya’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. “Sorry, this was supposed to be like, a date?”
Ilya can’t believe he forgot to say the actual word. “Date, yes!”
Now he looks a little exasperated. “Why didn’t you just tell me that?”
“I don’t know, I thought it was obvious? We fucked, we cuddled, we had food, we watched tv, we talked…date!”
“But -”
“And I told you earlier, I like you, yes?”
Shane rolled his eyes and scoffed. “You mean when you said you liked me, but not as a person, just as a ‘good mouth’?”
Ilya threw his hands up, feeling a little exasperated himself. “Was joke, Hollander. I said I like you, you didn’t say it back, so I panicked and made joke. It is um, what do you call it, defense mechanics?”
Shane’s eyes widen a little further in disbelief. “A defense mechanism?”
“Yes, that.”
“Oh.” Shane's expression suddenly looks like a delightful mix of fondness, surprise and relief. He looks adorable. A common occurrence.
The mood suddenly feels a lot lighter and Ilya thinks he can risk being playful. “You do have good mouth though, that is true.”
Shane lets out a small huff of laughter as he rolls his eyes. “Right, thanks.”
Hearing Shane laugh, Ilya feels a strong wave of relief wash over him. There’s a flicker of hope in his chest. He reaches out to grasp Shane’s hand and slowly takes a few steps backwards, tentatively tugging him along. “So, you will stay?” He pauses in his steps, feeling like he’s stopped breathing as he waits for Shane’s response. Please say yes.
The tiny smile and little nod Shane gives him is officially the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “Yeah, I’ll stay. I think we should probably, talk more though?”
Talking has never exactly been their strong suit, but now they’ve started Ilya is determined to keep trying. He never wants to make Shane freak out or cry again, if he can help it. He nods as he starts walking backwards again, pulling Shane along. “Yes, we will talk for hours and hours before we fuck again. Will be new for us.”
Shane laughs softly as he lets himself be led back into the living room. “Yeah I think that might’ve been part of the problem.”
Ilya gently pushes Shane back onto his plush couch. “Mm, no, no problem. We are perfect.”
Shane scoffs, looking both amused and exasperated as he so often does. “Rozanov.”
“Ilya.” He finds himself correcting him before he thinks twice, but Shane just smiles shyly.
“Ilya.”
It’s stupid that hearing his own name could make him feel this happy. Embarrassing really. He might even be blushing, not that he’d ever admit to it. He leans down and gives Shane a soft, slow kiss, trying to pour all the feeling into it he can’t quite name out loud yet. When he pulls back, Shane looks all pink and flustered and it makes Ilya beam with pride. “You want more gingerale?”
“What, oh, yeah sure. Thanks.”
He backs up a little while pointing at Shane with a playful smirk on his face. “Stay.”
Shane snorts with laughter just like he’d wanted him to. “I’m not going anywhere, I promise.”
Feeling a bit giddy, Ilya goes back to the kitchen to get them more drinks, and yes, to give himself a moment to breathe. Today has been a lot. Shane wants to keep talking, probably have a conversation something along the lines of where is this going and how do we make this work, which Ilya doesn’t exactly have the answers for. Their situation is unique and incredibly frustrating. He’d love nothing more than to take Shane out on proper dates, to meet his friends and his family, to introduce him to his team and kiss him on the ice after they win the cup.
But they can’t do that. It makes him furious and it’s a big reason why he’s always kept Shane at a distance. But he can’t keep this up anymore either and he can’t keep hurting him. He wants something. The sex they have together is the best he’s ever had, it's incredible and he never wants to stop, but he wants the rest of it too. All the soft, sappy stuff. He’s not sure exactly when it happened but Shane Hollander has ruined Ilya Rozanov and he’s perfectly happy about it now he’s admitted it to himself.
Maybe they can’t be out and proud like some queer couples, but they can still be something in private. Secret boyfriends? If Shane wants that, of course. God, he hopes he does. Ilya hopes he’s enough.
When he gets back to the living room, Shane’s looking a little anxious again. Ilya’s first instinct is to just kiss that look off his face, but no, they’re trying something new here. He hands Shane his gingerale and settles down next to him, an arm resting on the back of the sofa. “So. How are you feeling? You look, ah, twitchy.”
That brings out a little smile. “Twitchy?”
Ilya nods as he opens his own can of pop. “Mm. Nervous. You have questions for me?”
Shane raises his eyebrows at him. “How did you know I have questions?”
Ilya shrugs and takes a sip of his coke. “Because you are Shane Hollander, you always have questions.”
There’s a slightly skeptical look on Shane’s face. “What and you’re actually willing to answer them?”
Ilya huffs impatiently. “Yes, is why I asked!”
Shane looks amused and Ilya is just happy he’s no longer crying. “You know this open, honest version of you is going to take some time getting used to.”
That’s fair. Ilya simply rolls his eyes and gestures for him to continue. “Questions?”
Shane takes a sip of his gingerale and puts it back on its coaster. He nods, all serious again. “Right, so uh. I was just wondering…you said you like me, you want more than just sex, so what do you want exactly?”
That’s pretty much exactly what he’d expected. Now that they’ve gotten this far, he’s ready to just be bluntly honest. “I want you to be my boyfriend.”
Shane’s face goes pink and he looks like he chokes on air, which should be impossible. It’s ridiculously cute how flustered he is. “Sorry you want - isn’t that kind of fast?”
Ilya laughs. “We’ve been fucking for years, I don’t think I’d call that fast.”
“Well yeah, but…” He sort of trails off, looking away as he bites his lip and Ilya remembers he was trying not to spook him. Maybe boyfriends wasn’t the right term? Stupid English.
He gently prods him to continue. “But what?”
Shane sighs, looking like he really doesn’t want to ask his next question but he does anyway. “What about, you know, all your girls you were just telling me about?”
Ilya raises his eyebrows at him. That’s not quite what he said. “All my girls? I think I only mentioned one girl. Sveta. We haven’t slept together in a long time, and she knows how I feel about you now anyway.”
Shane’s refusing to make eye contact at this point, picking at a loose thread on his sweats. “But, I mean you’re always going clubbing and taking girls home, and you asked me about girls…”
“Ah, I was just trying to see if you were dating anyone. To see if you were, um, available?”
“But -”
“And if you were my boyfriend, I obviously wouldn’t be taking girls home Shane.”
“Oh. Really?” He didn’t seem to be getting it. He’d have to be even more clear.
“Really. I would want just you and me. Exclusive, I think is the word, yes?”
“Oh.”
Shane seems at a loss for words, his face rather undreadable and a horrible thought suddenly occurs to Ilya. For some reason he’s only just realizing that throughout this whole mess of a day, Shane has never once said that he likes Ilya as more than just a fuckbuddy. Jesus Christ. He’d been crying and trying to get away and Ilya practically dragged him back to the couch. He’s pathetic, isn’t he? If only his father and brother could see him now.
He doesn't want to lose Shane though, in any capacity. He can salvage this. “Look Shane, maybe I shouldn't have been so, uh, pushy? If you just want sex, is okay, I understand.” He understands but it might kill him. Shane doesn't need to know that.
Shane sits up straighter, fumbling his words. “Oh, no I just, I - “
Ilya can’t help but cut him off. “I can be, a bit much I know. It’s not like anyone has ever wanted more than sex with me before, so, I get it.” He shrugs, trying desperately to be nonchalant as he looks determinedly at a spot over Shane’s shoulder.
“No, no, Ilya, listen to me…” Shane gently grasps his cheek with one palm and forces Ilya to look at him. His beautiful brown eyes are looking a little glassy again. “...I’m sorry, I’m so bad at this. I’m just overwhelmed, but I like you. Like, a lot. Probably a little too much. And I have for a long time.”
Ilya feels such a sense of relief, he could fucking cry. But that’s not happening. Besides, Shane’s still going.
“To be honest, I’ve had dreams of you saying this kind of stuff before - “
Ilya can’t help but chuckle, even if he’s had similar dreams of his own. Teasing is their thing, what can he say. “Wow, Hollander, that is pretty embarrassing for you.”
Shane huffs and blushes, but he’s smiling. “Shut up, it sounds like you’re just as down bad as I am.”
Ilya thinks he’s heard this term before, but. “What is ‘down bad’.”
Shane’s blush deepens. “Oh um, like, when you’re really into someone. Romantically?”
Yes he’s definitely heard it. And it’s definitely true. “Ah, yes. Maybe that might be me, then. Maybe.”
Shane grins and smacks Ilya’s shoulder. “You literally said you want to be boyfriends.”
“Yes, and I still haven’t heard your answer to that.”
Shane’s eyes go all soft and fond. “Oh right. Sorry. Yes, I do. Of course I want that Ilya.”
Ilya can’t help himself. “Want what?”
Shane laughs exasperatedly. “For fucks sake. I want to be your boyfriend, asshole.”
“Mm, I don’t know if that’s how you talk to your boyfriend.”
“Just shut up and kiss me already.”