Work Text:
Shane’s back ached. He spent the past afternoon and better half of the evening meticulously reviewing documents, outlining details, and signing contracts for the Irina Foundation. Knowing how meaningful this charity was to Ilya, Shane had set up camp at their kitchen counter around three, determined to get through the waist-high stack of papers. Ilya had grumbled about it, saying something along the lines of how boring he was, but had otherwise kept his distance.
He promised Ilya he would be done by eight.
It was now midnight.
When he started, Shane felt confident he would complete the task without any breaks or disruptions. However, almost halfway through the stack, Shane felt his body begin to betray him.
I can do this. Do this for Ilya. My Ilya.
Shane repeated these lines over and over again, like a mantra, willing his body to stay awake.
I can do this.
Shane yawned.
Do this for Ilya.
His eyes threatened to close.
My Ilya.
The dull, gnawing pain in his back was unrelenting.
────୨ৎ────
“малыш?”
Shane jerked up.
How long had he been asleep?
He turned around to face his boyfriend. Shane was met with Ilya’s wild blonde curls sticking up in every direction, a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, and a confused look on his face. Shane wanted desperately to curl up into Ilya’s arms and never come out.
“Ilya? Why are you still awake?”
“I’m asking you the same question.”
Shane looked guiltily down at the unfinished stack of documents. With not even half of them completed, he felt frustrated and discouraged. His vision began to blur as hot, wet tears formed in his eyes and threatened to fall. Ilya does so much for him every day, without him needing to ask. Shane felt inadequate, especially with his imperfect work displayed in front of both of them.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Ilya whispered, voice laced with concern. He stepped closer to Shane, body leaning against the uncomfortable barstool that had become Shane’s second home the past nine hours, and cupped Shane’s face, thumbs gently dragging under his eyes. “What are these tears for?”
“Wanted to get this done for you. For the foundation. Wanted you to not have to worry. Wanted it all to be perfect,” Shane said hoarsely, voice strained from disuse and tears.
“And it is perfect, моя любовь. You are perfect.”
Shane looked up at Ilya. Pleading blue eyes stared back at him, both questioning and full of fondness.
“I really appreciate you doing this for me, but you’ve been working so hard recently. I miss you. Come to bed? We can finish this in the morning, together. Okay?” Ilya asked.
Shane hesitated but eventually began to nod. Ilya moved the stacks out of the way, grabbed Shane’s hand, and helped him stand up. His feet were unsteady, body swaying as he stood, so used to being in a hunched sitting position. His back cracked loudly as he stretched.
Shane was then suddenly and painfully aware of the way his clothes were sticking to his skin, how his hair brushed against his forehead, how cold he was, and how sore his muscles were. He looked back up at Ilya, words failing to come out of his mouth.
Ilya, sensing Shane’s discomfort, asked, “You want to shower?”
Shane quickly nodded, thankful Ilya knew him so well after all these years.
Ilya smiled. “C’mon, Котёнок.”
He took Shane’s hand and gently guided him towards their bathroom.
The same hands that shamelessly punched other players on the ice were now lovingly helping Shane undress in the middle of their bathroom. The same fingers that rolled cigarettes and flipped opponents off were caressing Shane’s face and running through his hair.
“I’m going to turn the water on and then go grab us some towels, okay? I’ll be back in a minute,” Ilya said in the softest and most caring voice Shane had ever heard.
Shane was forever thankful he gets to see this side of Ilya—sweet, thoughtful, and utterly careful and understanding towards Shane’s differently wired mind and strange tendencies. He didn’t have to explain why his body couldn’t articulate words at the moment, or why he felt the need to work on the same task for nine hours without stopping and felt worthless if he didn’t complete it. Ilya just knew. He understood and loved Shane for all he was and all he will be. Always without judgement, always without fear.
Shane might have a history of being indecisive or having anxiety when choosing to dedicate himself to something new in the past. However, he knew, without a doubt, that he would always love Ilya Rozanov.
In these moments, soft, sweet, and private, this thought was at the forefront of his mind.
The sound of the bathroom door opening shook him out of his train of thought.
Ilya set the towels—the soft ones Shane kept specifically for moments like these when regular towels felt like sandpaper on his skin— on the counter and began to undress.
Once he was finished, he put his hand on Shane’s lower back and helped him step into the shower.
The smell of Ilya’s shampoo instantly clouded his senses and calmed him down. On days when Shane felt overly stressed or stimulated, he preferred to smell like his boy. It reminded him of comfort. It smelled like home.
“You’re practically purring, милый,” Ilya said with a soft laugh, as his fingers continued to massage the product into Shane’s hair.
Shane smiled lazily and looked up from his resting spot, his head against Ilya’s bare chest.
Ilya leaned down and kissed the space between his eyebrows, slow and gentle.
After all soap and product was rinsed off the both of them, Ilya wrapped Shane with one of the fluffy towels he had picked out earlier and carried him bridal style to their bedroom.
An old and soft Boston Raiders hoodie with Ilya’s name splayed across the back was lying on the bed next to a clean pair of boxers. Ilya helped Shane get dressed, gentle hands pulling on each article of clothing, until he was sure Shane was comfortable. He then proceeded to pull on his own pair before climbing into bed.
He held his arms out, waiting for Shane to come and join him.
Shane instantly obliged, laying down on top of Ilya’s bare chest and letting their arms and legs entangle together.
If he had to pick his favorite place on earth, it would be there in Ilya’s arms. He held Shane like he was the most important thing in the world, with just the right amount of pressure to make him feel grounded.
“I love you,” Shane whispered, looking into Ilya’s eyes, eternally grateful he found someone that would take care of him without judgement when the world seemed to be a little too much.
Ilya smiled.
“I love you too, малыш.”
His Ilya.