Chapter Text
It was late. To late for either of them to be up during the hockey season.
But tomorrow, both of them have the day off and Shane couldn’t wait another minute to get to Ilya’s.
Ilya’s what? Ilya’s house, Ilya’s bed, Ilya’s arms.
He’s so tired that he doesn’t even feel horny right now. He just wants to cuddle with his man, to feel him, smell him. To buried himself in his bedsheets and his pillows. To know that if he turns on around, Ilya will be there, his head tucked on Shane’s neck, breathing softly.
He wants to wake up in the morning and see him sleeping, lips slightly parted, a bedhead of soft curls, one arm under the pillow, the other reaching for Shane, even in his sleep.
Shane doesn’t register the two hours drive. He just goes autopilot, hearing Ilya speaking to him through the phone.
“Shane, Shane… Sweetheart, are you there?” Ilya’s voice sounds worried.
“Hum? Yeah, yes, I’m here. What did you say?”
“Shane… I should have come to you… This is bad idea. You’re too tired to drive.”
“No, no, I’m ok. GPS says ten minutes…”
“Ten minutes too much, moy Lyúbimyy …” Ilya sighs. “Why didn’t you let me come to you? We could be in bed by now…”
“No…” Ilya hears the slight pause. “I need to go to you tonight…”
“Shane… That doesn't make any sense… You had game, you are tired. It’s two hours for me or for you… I could watch game at your house, make food, prepare bath…”
“I didn’t want my house tonight…”
“Shane…”
“Look, I’m turning on your street, see?”
Ilya just shakes his head and waits at the open door.
Shane pulls in the drive way, stops the car without even parking and all but runs to the Russian.
Ilya gets an exactly five seconds warning before have his arms full of a Canadian hockey player. Not that he’s complaining about it or anything.
“Hello there, Sólnyshko. I see you missed me…”
“Fuck… I did…” Shane buries his face on Ilya’s shoulder. “I missed you so much, is not even funny…”
Ok, now that’s new…
Not that Shane doesn’t miss Ilya when they are apart. He does, he tells him so, he sends random texts saying it or remember small moments. He talks about how much he wants for the summer to come, to go to the cottage, to have three weeks for each other, uninterrupted and alone.
Sometimes he sends him photos of the pillows on his bed or on random hotels’ bed with the caption “your place”.
He knows that Shane misses him as much as he misses Shane.
But he played against Montreal four days ago… They had two nights and a day to each other at Shane’s place. They are used to spend weeks, even months apart. So yes, they miss each other a lot, but this is a bit extreme on their dynamic.
“Moy Lyúbimyy… What’s going on? Are you ok?” He breaths in his hair, noticing that he smells like locker room shampoo, not his chosen one. He must had been in a hurry to get out of there…
“Now I am…”
“Shane…” Ilya shakes his head. “What’s going on? You played good, you scored, you win…”
“I know… I just… Wanted you… Here…”
“Da… I’m here…”
Ilya is so lost right now. This is new. This isn’t like Shane. He should have known something was up the minute he said he didn’t want him to go to Montreal… But right now all he can do is damage control.
“Ok, ok… Are you hungry” Shane shakes his head no. He doesn’t press further, not right now. “Want shower?” Another head shake. “Bed?” That gets a nod. “Ok, let’s go.”
He moves to turn around and he all but whines in process.
“You said you want bed, yes?” Ilya is officially very confused…
A nod.
“Then let’s go to bed…”
A whine and a shake.
“Sólnyshko… I need words… What do you want?”
“You…”
“I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. Let’s go to bed… You are… How do you say it? When it’s too much?”
“Overwhelmed…” Shane mumbles, still buried as deep as possible on Ilya’s shoulder. His arms around the Russian’s neck, fingers playing with his hair.
“Da, that. Come on, let’s take this clothes of you and get you to bed.” Ilya tries to move again.
“Noooo…” This time the whine is loud and clear and he locks his arms around the other man’s neck and his leg goes up Ilya’s.
“Ok…ok…” Enough is enough and they can’t stand in the middle of the hallway all night. Even Anya looks worried, sitting there looking at her daddies. “Come here”
He hauls Shane up with little effort. Years of this taught him exactly how to pick him up like he weights nothing. They also taught him that Shane likes to pretend thar he hates this, an indignant huff and a weak “put me down” immediately on his lips and a light shove on his shoulders.
Tonight he gets nothing of that. Shane sighs softly, buries impossible close and sags against him, soft and pliant like teddy bear. A big, bulky, muscle, heavy teddy bear… Not that he’s complaining about it.
“This is what you want?” A small nod. “You could had ask…” A small headshake. He laughs. “Ok, zero sense tonight, yes? It’s fine, let’s go to bed.”
Later, when they are finally under the covers, Shane full body on top of Ilya’s, face tucked in the crook of his neck, one hand holding his, the other tracing patterns up and down his chest, Ilya makes a mental note to talk about this in the morning. And falls asleep.
Shane wakes up when his bed starts moving.
“Hum… Stop”
The bed chuckles. Wait? What?
“Malýsh , I’m sorry. But I really need to get up”
“No…”
“Sweetheart, please…”
“Ok, go. Don’t turn on the light.” Shane buries on his pillow. The pillow chuckles again. Weird morning.
“Shane, you’re on top of me, love. I need you to move a bit.”
“Then stay.”
“Moy Lyúbimyy… I really, really need to pee right now. I’m about 30 seconds until I embarrass myself and make a mess. Please, Shane…”
Ok, this sounded more serious. Shane rolls of Ilya and he sprints out of bed and into the bathroom. The sounds coming out of the door are not children appropriated.
He laughs a bit and takes a moment to fully wake up and look around. That’s when he registers that his side of the bed is untouched, his pillow without deeps, his covers spread without a wrinkle on them.
Ilya comes out of the bathroom, his cheeks softly pink, his hair a mess of curls and looking sheepishly at him. He lays back down and tries to pull Shane back to him. Only for him to resist.
“What? Sorry, but I really had to wake you up… I was dying here, Hollander”
“Why didn’t you push me off you last night?”
“You were comfy. I was comfy… I liked it…”
“Ilya… That’s… That’s ridiculous!”
“Why?”
“I’m not a child! You couldn’t be comfortable with me on top of you all night! I’m heavy!!”
Uh-oh… Not this again…
“You’re not that heavy, Shane. I did the same to you so many times. It’s fine. You needed it. I like to do it. You do the same for me when I need, it’s ok.”
“I… I shouldn’t…”
“What?”
“Not a child…”
“Da, I know… I feel it every time we wake together.” He grins and reaches under the covers.
“Rozanov, no… Don’t…” He bats his hand. “Not talking about that… or doing it… Not right now.”
Ilya immediately retreats his hand “Shane, come on, everything is fine. We aren’t arguing about this on our day off, please. Come here. Please, please?”
He opens his arms and sighs in relief when Shane collapse into them.
“This is ridiculous, Ilya… I hate when you man handle me like a sack of potatoes…”
“You don’t. You pretend. But you like” He hums into his hair. “It’s ok. We can pretend.”
“Ilya…”
“Shane…”
“Come on, be serious. You know this is ridiculous…”
“No, is not. You were tired and overwhelmed and everything was too much. You wanted bed and you wanted me and you wouldn’t move. So I pick you up. No big deal, don’t think too much.”
“It’s different…”
“From what…”
“From when you pick me up before sex.”
“Why?”
“That isn’t sexy, Rozanov!!”
“Everything is sexy with you.”
“You can’t be turned on by… whatever that was…”
“I’m always turned on by you…”
“Rozanov!!!”
“Hollander…”
“Why can’t you be serious?”
“I am serious, yes? I just don’t think this is big deal.” He kisses his hair. “Are you feeling better?” A nod “Did you sleep good?” Another nod. “Do you still want to stay today?”
“Of course!”
“Then we are ok. This is ok. That was ok. Ok?”
Shane sighs and nods “Fine…”
“Fine. Gimme kiss”
“You didn’t brush!”
“I was afraid my baby would start crying all alone on the big bed…”
“Rozanov!!!!!!” Shane tries to get up, but he pulls him down.
“Shhhh, stay. No kisses, just cuddles.”
“Cuddle monster…” He smiles.
Ilya sighs but doesn’t say anything. Just happy to be here, to hold him.
For now. Forever