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Shane stomped around the kitchen, shoving dirty utensils into the sink and tossing empty packages off the counter with more force than necessary.
“Ilya!” he groaned as his foot slid through a smear of pasta sauce on the floor. He froze, staring down at his stained sock, frustration snapping tighter in his chest. “Fuck! How hard is it to clean up after yourself?”
Ilya was at his scheduled therapy session, and Shane was trying his hardest to remind himself of that.
Shane rinsed and lightly cleaned the dishes, and the numerous dirty kitchen utensils before putting them into the dish washer, he pulled out a broom and started to sweep the kitchen before mopping after it. He always cleaned when he was frustrated but considering Ilya left a mess behind it felt necessary in this moment nonetheless.
Anya watched Shane from the living room rug, a sigh escaping her.
“Your papa is driving me insane” Shane whispered before walking over to her and handing her a snack.
It was then that Shane saw another mess left in the living room. Beef jerky wrappers were tucked into the couch cushion, a blanket left unfolded and scattered, Ilya’s slippers left in the middle of the room, a half empty coke can was on the wooden coffee table, a coaster beside it and Shane was one second away from exploding.
“What the fuck happened here today?” Shane asked himself. Ilya was typically the messier of the two but today he left a tornado behind.
His frustration grew worse when he realized that Ilya did not put their clothes into the dryer, having left their wet clothes sitting in the washer all day. Shane knew realistically they couldn’t have already smelled like mildew but he he didn't want to risk it, starting the washer for the second time today.
By the time Ilya got home Shane was too exhausted to argue with him. He was in bed with his favorite hockey book, trying his best to recenter himself.
“How did therapy go?” Shane mumbled, without looking up at his husband who was already stripping into pajama pants.
“Blah” Ilya waved his hand, not wanting to talk about it more. “I feel better now that I am home” Ilya’s tone was teasing and Shane knew what that meant as Ilya crawled into bed like a cat.
“I’m not in the mood” Shane spoke bluntly, his eyes flickering to Ilya’s. “My stomach hurts” he lied, worried his husband would feel rejected, and mad or not he wasn't going to make permanent damage in his marriage.
“Did you take medicine? Nasty pink stuff?” Ilya was referring to pepto-bismol.
“Mhm” Shane nodded, scrunching his nose to push his glasses up.
“You knew you were not feeling good enough for sex but still wore your glasses to tease me? Hmmm” Ilya teased and Shane weakly smiled in response. It didn’t take Ilya long to realize something was off.
“What is wrong? Just your stomach?” Ilya quirked a brow. He was sitting by Shane’s feet now that were covered by a blanket, looking up at his husband.
“Yupp” Shane popped the last “p” in the word.
Ilya looked over at the laundry basket that had folded clothes in it and the memory came back instantly. “Oh! Oh! Shit, I forgot to put the clothes in the dryer, didn’t I?”
Shane sighed, long and frustrated before putting his book down and giving Ilya his full attention.
Ilya looked like a child who was about to get scolded, he always knew when Shane was on the verge of yelling.
“Don’t worry! I put them in the dryer and folded them. I also cleaned the entire kitchen, and living room because I think maybe your hands were broken this afternoon?” He looked at Ilya’s hands briefly “they healed quick!”
"Okay, calm down" Ilya scoffed, rolling his eyes.
"Wrong choice of words" Shane mumbled, putting his glasses on top of the book he had just set down.
“You are so up tight about mess! So the house looked like someone lives here! Who cares?!” Ilya threw his hands up defensively.
Shane’s nostrils flared, the vein in his neck protruded. “I care! You left an empty box of noodles on the counter, you left a plate with shredded cheese out and it got hard and gross, you got pasta sauce all over the floor! How hard is it to clean up after yourself?"
“Anya was supposed to lick it up!” Ilya said defensively as if that was a real defense to have.
“How about a sorry? Or maybe thank you for cleaning up the mess? Why is apologizing always so hard for you?” Shane narrowed his eyes at his husband, anger boiling inside him.
“I am not sorry! I would have come home and cleaned it up! I did not ask you to clean it, did I?"
“After therapy? When you’re drained and exhausted? Come on! You knew I would clean it so you left it for me!”
“That is not true! And if you know I’m exhausted why are you fighting with me as soon as I get home?”
Shane scoffed, hurt Ilya would even use that as a defense.
“I don’t want to talk to you anymore, just go to sleep.” Shane reached over and turned the bedroom light off, using a remote before scrunching down and getting comfortable in bed.
“You are really letting us go to bed like this?” Ilya whined, he hated going to bed mad and if it was up to him they never would.
“Yes. I love you, goodnight” Shane grunted through his teeth. He would never let Ilya doubt that even if they were fighting.
“I love you too” Ilya sighed, climbing under the covers, their backs toward one another.
———
The next morning Shane woke up earlier than usual, an obvious way to go on a run alone instead of with Ilya like they did daily.
When he got home he made breakfast for himself, and himself alone. It wasn’t until Ilya had gotten up at their usual time that he realized these things were happening.
“Shane? You’re still mad?” Ilya padded into the kitchen, the smell of food filled the air but the kitchen was empty. Ilya felt a heavy ache in his chest, realizing Shane was actually mad and not just frustrated with him.
Shane heard him speak, ignoring him as he turned the TV volume up higher. It was a show Ilya knew Shane wasn’t really watching.
Ilya walked over to Shane with his hands on his hips, “Shane? Hello? I am speaking. You are one month older than me, your hearing cannot be going yet.”
Shane didn’t look at him, and it killed them both. Shane knew Ilya was wearing his slutty short, shorts and his toned arms were on full display anticipating their morning run.
“You’re ignoring me?” Ilya quirked a brow. “That is very childish, I am a little proud of you.”
Shane stood up, walking closer to Ilya than necessary to go wash his dish in the sink.
“Hmmm, ” Ilya mumbled. “I am taking Anya on the run with me” he bent down to pet Anya. Shane was always worried she’d somehow get out of her harness and get hurt, and always had something to say about it but when that didn’t work Ilya frowned.
He clipped her harness and leash on, taking longer than necessary to do it hoping Shane would say something but when he didn’t and instead padded back over to the bedroom, Ilya slammed the front door shut as he left.
Shane smiled to himself, knowing the payoff of all of this would be worth being petty for. The makeup sex would be good if Ilya was pent up.
Shane timed it perfectly, he waited until Ilya and Anya were halfway up the steps into their house before he started to leave the house. He sprayed Ilya's favorite cologne mostly in the room, and less on him.
“Where are you going?” Ilya breathed out wiping the sweat from his forehead with his forearm as he let Anya back into the house.
Shane brushed past Ilya, walking over to his car and unlocking it without a word.
“The fuck?” Ilya mumbled to himself before following Shane over to the car. “You can at least let me know where you are going.”
Shane knew Ilya had his location for safety purposes, and knew he in fact did not need to verbally tell him anything.
Shane started the car, making sure Ilya was safely far enough away to pull out before leaving. Ilya was left standing there in shock, he hated this.
When Ilya got back inside he smelled Shane's cologne and whined to himself. "I hate this Anya" Ilya mumbled, making sure Anya had water and kibble in her bowls. He grabbed a bowl of cut fruit from the fridge, remembering it wasn't there this morning. Shane might not have made Ilya an actual meal but he still cut fresh fruit and put it in a bowl for him, Ilya smiled.
It took him five minutes before he pulled his phone out of his pocket and called Yuna. It was not beneath him to snitch on his husband.
“Hello Ilya” she sing in a cheery knowing tone.
“Hi Yuna” he pinched the bridge of his nose. “ I want you to know that your son is driving me crazy.”
“Funny, I heard the same words come out of him this morning” she teased.
“So he does have the ability to speak? Good to know” Ilya groaned.
“Ah! He is giving you the silent treatment? He used to do that a lot as a kid” she smiled over at David who was standing across the kitchen from her.
“He left the house and would not tell me where he is going. Is he going to your house?”
“Honey, you have his location.” Yuna reminded, “but yes he and David are going to replace some of the wood on the deck.”
“I was supposed to help with that this weekend.”
“I know, I think he just needed some space” Yuna awkwardly cleared her throat and Ilya knew she likely saw Shane’s car pull into the driveway.
“Okay, I love you” Ilya sighed, it was reflex now to say it when he and Yuna got off the phone.
“I love you too kiddo” she hung up and received an stare that resembled an angry kitten from her son.
“Oh? Let me guess, he was being a tattletale” Shane crossed his arms against his chest, pouting in full effect.
“You’re both grown men, I think there’s a better word than that” Yuna joked. “But yes, you are giving your husband the silent treatment? That’s not very nice.”
“Yuna!” David warned, a chuckle filling the room.
“I mean, Ilya likes to talk probably way too much so I cut that access off for a bit.” Shane shrugged. “I feel like that’s fair since he destroyed the kitchen, living room and didn’t put the clothes in the dryer.”
“Oh no! He’s just the worst!” Yuna slapped her hands against her cheeks with exaggerated drama.
“You’re doing it again!” Shane snapped. “Taking his side!”
“I’m not on his side, I just think there are better ways to handle this. I think you're being harsh with him!"
“Dad? Are you ready to start?” Shane cut in, completely ignoring her.
“Oh? Now we’re icing me out too?”
“No! I just—” he exhaled. “I know I’m being immature, but sometimes Ilya really frustrates me.”
“Welcome to married life,” David teased, shooting Yuna a wink.
“Wait, did he sound okay?” Shane bit his bottom lip nervously before he followed his dad outside.
“Yes! He’s fine! Just dramatic! The both of you are” Yuna waved Shane off with a smile.
Meanwhile Ilya was at home with Anya pouting as he let her sit on the couch with him. “I don’t know Anya, what should we do?”
Anya yawned in response, clearly unamused by both of her dad’s antics.
“You’re right, I should tighten all the jars, he will have to ask me for help” Ilya scratched his chin dramatically before standing up to do exactly that.
If Anya could talk she would’ve just told her dad to apologize but sure that works too.
Shane was gone for hours, and Ilya was bored out of his mind. He had played video games, ordered a pizza, and washed all of the bedding hoping Shane would notice.
Ilya had sent Shane a total of 10 messages:
I wish you were not mad at me. This sucks.
I am going to text you anyway.
I was watching real housewives earlier. I get why Jackie likes this show.
I miss you and wish you’d come home so we can make up and fuck already.
I will let you do whatever you want.
You know I can see you are reading these.
Turn the read receipts back on!
Shane!! Come home so we can eat dinner together.
I don’t feel good, feeling faint. What if I faint when you’re not here? Wouldn’t you feel bad? :(
I love you.
Finally a response came through:
“I love you too. Make sure you eat something so you don’t faint. Can’t have that on my conscious.”
Ilya smiled as he read that, knowing the anger was fizzling out of Shane slowly.
When Shane came home he noticed the pizza box on the counter, shaking his head slightly at it but not saying a word as he opened the fridge to make himself dinner.
Ilya walked over to him right away, leaning on the kitchen island.
“I know you are ignoring me but I just want to say I’m sorry, and I know you do a lot around the house and I should be less messy and—“ Shane leaned over the island, closing the space and cupped his face with a soft kiss.
“Oh? You are no longer angry?” Ilya mumbled against Shane's lips, not wanting to break physical contact as he walked around the kitchen island.
“I just wanted an apology Ilya. For you to stop treating me like your maid” Shane’s eyes were teary and Ilya finally understood where the hurt was coming from.
“My love, I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I was running late for therapy and I didn’t mean to forget the clothes in the washer, I was just all over the place. I should’ve said something to you about it before I left and I’m sorry.”
“It’s not just this one time though. You do this a lot” Shane admitted. "I can deal with the occasional mess, but sometimes I feel like I am the only one who picks up the house."
Ilya nodded, retracing his steps mentally. It was never intentional, and he felt bad that Shane was getting frustrated about it. "I will work on it, I don't mean to be messy."
"I know, I think I was just in a mood" Shane admits. “I’m sorry for ignoring you all day, I should’ve just communicated” Shane’s lower lip wobbled a little.
“It is okay. We are talking now, yes?” Ilya wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist but still kept distance between them so they could see one another's facial expressions.
“I’m not good at being mad at you” Shane chuckled, a tear hanging from his long eyelashes as he blinked it fell down his freckles cheeks.
“You’re good at everything” Ilya hummed, wiping the tear softly. “I will work on being more ummm…. What’s the word?”
“Clean?” Shane teased and Ilya snorted.
“Mindful! Paying attention more to how I leave things, less tornado like” he squeezed Shane’s sides softly.
“I will also try not to be so uptight” Shane avoided Ilya’s gaze when he said, clearly hearing Ilya say it the night before stung.
“I’m sorry I used that word” Ilya lifted Shane’s chin to look at him. “That was not very nice of me” he leaned in to kiss Shane softly.
Shane shrugged, struggling to maintain eye contact. “I know it can be true.”
“Yes, but I can also be cleaner and that is something I can work on” Ilya admits, he hates arguing with Shane and just wants this to be over.
“You wanted to eat together but then ordered a pizza huh?” Shane teased, feeling the tension start to lift.
“I made you a cranberry walnut salad, it’s in the fridge.” Ilya felt his cheeks get warm as the look of excitement spread across Shane’s face. "I also made a dressing it is in a glass jar beside the salad" Ilya smiled to himself knowing he tightened that jar too.
“Oh my god I fucking love you” Shane kissed all over Ilya’s face and making him giggle, before taking the food out of the fridge.
Ilya stood with his hands on his hips as Shane tried to turn the lid on the jar, his tongue poking out of the side of his mouth.
"Oh, you asshole!" Shane laughed as Ilya was watching him with a big smile.
"Whatever do you mean?" Ilya held a hand out to help as Shane slapped it playfully before he turned to the sink to run the lid under hot water.
"You do this every time we argue so I'll talk to you!" Shane laughed and Ilya felt his cheeks grow warm as Shane got the lid off.
"You knew that?"
"Yes" Shane laughed, "I also know you wore those shorts this morning on purpose."
"You didn't even look at me! How did you know?"
"I looked at your ass while it walked away from me" Shane mumbled as he took a big bite of the salad Ilya had made.
“Stealing glances at my ass while you’re mad at me?” Ilya said, feigning shock as he metaphorically clutched his pearls. He motioned for Shane to give him a bite too and Shane smiled, grabbing a plate for Ilya too and plating some salad for him.
"You don't get to act offended! You called mom on me!" Shane snorted, handing Ilya a fork from the drawer beside him as they both stood at the kitchen island to eat.
"You called her this morning before I got to!"
“I had to beat you to it! You always tell her what’s going on, and then she’s like…” Shane stepped back, slipping into his best impression of his mother. “Poor Ilya! Shane, you’re so mean to my favorite child! You should apologize right now!”
Ilya burst out laughing, loud enough that Anya wandered in to see what all the noise was about.
"That is why Yuna is my favorite Hollander" Ilya smiled, winking at Shane as he took another bite of food into his mouth.
"Take that back!" Shane whined jokingly making Ilya laugh again.
"Do tell me what my favorite Hollander said about the abuse I suffered at the hand of my husband today" Ilya sniffled dramatically and Shane shook his head with laughter.
"She told me and I quote that I was "not very nice."
"Which is Canadian speak for you're being an asshole" Ilya giggled, trying to hide behind his hand at how tickled this actually made him.
"Oh yeah" Shane agreed smiling at Ilya as the two of them felt the heavy feeling fade. He eyed Ilya up and down obvious as Ilya followed his gaze.
"Oh? You have energy to fuck me now?" Ilya wasted zero time connecting the dots, Shane looked at him like an animal in heat, it was always like this after a fight.
"Maybe" Shane rinsed both of their plates off quickly before putting them into the dishwasher.
"I don't know…." Ilya teased, "I think my stomach hurts…." he lied mimicking Shane from last night.
“You’re such an asshole,” Shane laughed, snapping a kitchen towel against Ilya’s ass.
Ilya let out a startled yelp, then broke into a wide grin as he scooped Shane up into his strong arms and carried his husband off to the bedroom.