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Shane had been lying down on the cold, smooth, floor of his bedroom for… actually, he didn’t know how long. That didn’t really matter to him. What did matter was making the weird fog from earlier disappear.
The fog had started at lunch. He’d spent two hours making polite conversation at this team social. Additionally, he didn’t like how the chairs felt and the room was uncomfortably loud, but he sucked it up. By the time they got home, his head felt like it was buzzing.
He muttered some kind of greeting to Ilya and then beelined to where he was now.
Here, the room was quiet aside from the music in his ears. It might have been at full volume, but it didn’t necessarily feel like it. He didn’t mind, anyway. If he could, he would have this song injected into his veins. For now, however, he’d settle for playing it on repeat and committing it to memory.
One of his hands tapped out the melody against his phone positioned on top of his sternum. The rhythm of the taps helped ground him. Meanwhile, the wrist of his other hand braced his head against the hardwood.
He stared blankly at the ceiling, breaths feeling like they were releasing tension from his whole body.
After a while, however, he needed a small change, as what he was doing was losing its effects. So, he closed his eyes and laced his free hand with the one behind his head. Both of his thumbs began tapping against his hair. He bent one knee up.
Eventually, that stopped working too, so he began to card his fingers through his hair, massaging his now itching scalp.
All the while, the song played on, filling every inch of his head until there wasn’t room for anything else. The fog in his brain was steadily, slowly, thinning.
Yet, somehow, it still wasn’t enough.
“Shane? Shane!” Came Ilya’s voice, cutting through the music. The man it’s attached to sat behind him. “You’ve disappeared for hours.”
Shane opened his eyes and tilted his head back to look at him. He wondered, briefly, if he was rude to Ilya in any way when he came home. He didn’t remember.
After a few seconds, he took his earbuds out. They could still hear the song playing from them.
“Lyubov, what are you doing?” Rozanov asked, voice full of concern. “You ran past me like the apartment was on fire or something. And your brain is very loud again.”
“Sorry,” he said before shrugging. “Just…” Then, his lips pursed. “I don’t really know how to describe it.”
“Try,” Ilya requested, grabbing Shane’s hand and rubbing small, gentle circles on his knuckles.
Wordlessly, he scooted up so his head was in his boyfriend’s lap. He moved Ilya’s hand into his hair and let go. The man understood and started massaging his scalp. Shane closed his eyes for a second and gave him a satisfied smile.
After taking in a breath, Shane said, “There was too much input. I needed my thoughts to stop and I needed the weird feeling to leave my body.”
“And…” Ilya said. “This, so far, has been working?”
“So far.”
“But it is not enough?”
“Almost.” Shane tipped his head further into Ilya’s hands.
Ilya leaned down and asked, “Could I help make it better?” His voice was barely above a whisper.
“I’m not sure how you would do that,” he said, searching his eyes for any kind of hint.
His boyfriend shrugged. “Keep playing your music. I could continue with this.”
“Okay.” Shane put his earbuds back in. Then he lifted his phone to restart the song.
He resumed tapping the melody against his phone, getting faster or slower depending on what was going on. He slowly started to feel more relaxed.
Unbeknownst to him, Ilya smiled down at him, even as Shane rewound the song by twenty seconds and let it play, three consecutive times. His heart swelled with love and concern. He didn’t fully understand what Shane was doing, but he knew it was what he needed.
Ilya kept up his movements, gentle and soothing. He noticed Shane’s fingers start anticipating the rhythm, tapping just before something hit.
They stayed there for another four song replays. Each time, Shane's breaths became a little slower, a little steadier. The tension in his body eased, and the fog in his head began to lift.
Shane sighed and took his earbuds out. “Okay, I think I’m good now. I can be present again.”
“Good,” Rozanov said as he helped his boyfriend stand. “Are you hungry? I started making something, but if you’re not up for it-”
“No, I could-“ A sheepish expression crossed his face. “I mean, I could use a snack or something.”
“Okay.” Ilya turned as if to leave the room, but Shane grabbed hold of him.
“Hey. Thank you, for this,” Shane continued, gesturing to himself and the floor. He then let go in favor of grabbing the case for his earbuds from atop the dresser and putting them in.
“Of course.” His boyfriend smiled. “Happy to do this.” His voice was filled with warmth. Then, Ilya frowned a little as a thought came to him. “How often does this happen?” He grabbed his hands again.
Shane shrugged. “Not too often, just sometimes on the road or before games. But there are a lot of… social situations when I start to feel it and can’t get to my music.”
“So, what, you just sit there and suffer?” Ilya asked, the concern creeping back in. “Is that what you did earlier today?”
“Yes.” He said it without hesitation, pulling his hands away.
Ilya shifted and said with a soft voice, “Lyubov-“
“You do help sometimes, though.” The man rolled his shoulders, testing the quiet in his head.
“Oh, really?” He smiled. “How?”
“I mean, you tend to notice whenever I start overthinking, which is nice, and…” Shane began but then hesitated. “By, uh…” His lips pressed into a thin line and curled upward. He shook his head. His voice got quiet. “With, um, sex.”
Ilya blinked once, then grinned.
He chuckled as he asked, “I’m sorry, what was that?”
“Don’t make me repeat myself, asshole.” Shane said as he bumped his shoulder into Ilya’s. “I know you heard me.”
His boyfriend’s grin persisted. “I did. I just wanted confirmation.”
Shane rolled his eyes and shook his head. Then, he took Ilya’s hand and led him out of the room.