Archive of Our Own

The charcoal rushed across the page of his beat up sketchbook, hurried in its attempts to make his curls absolutely perfect. Shane’s drawings could never hold a candle to the real life version of Ilya Rozanov, but he would be damned to not try his absolute best. 

Not seeing Ilya all summer had sucked. Of course Shane had stalked his instagram, never following or liking any posts obviously, but seeing him in person and hearing his sexy Russian accent was so much better than a picture. Except for the one of him shirtless on the beach. That picture might top seeing Ilya in person. 

From across the cafeteria, Shane heard what could only be described as a squeal. When he looked up, Rose Landry was running right at him. 

“Shane! I missed you so much!” Rose exclaimed as she slammed her tray down on the table and forced him into a hug. Shane, of course, hugged her back. Rose was one of his only real friends and he was lucky to have her in his life. She may be a bit loud at times, but her heart is pure gold. 

“Well maybe if somebody hadn’t taken off to Europe all summer we would have seen each other.” Shane teased as Rose lowered herself into the chair next to him. He quickly slammed his sketchbook shut, probably smudging all of the charcoal he’d just perfected. 

“I begged my parents to let you come but they kept saying it was a family trip. My stupid brother got to bring his girlfriend! That’s not family.” She pouted and popped a soggy french fry in her mouth. Shane couldn’t help but laugh a bit as her face scrunched while she chewed. 

“A girlfriend and your gay best friend are two very different things, mon amie.” Shane opened his heated lunch box and picked at the broccoli inside, not feeling particularly hungry. He found his eyes drifting to a table across the room. Five guys sitting and eating shitty cafeteria food, talking and laughing. Shane only cared about one of them. Ilya threw his head back and laughed heartily at something Wyatt had said and Shane couldn’t help the way his eyes wandered from his gorgeously chiseled jawline and down his neck. God he wanted to kiss his neck, leave all kinds of marks on him. He wanted—

“Earth to Hollander!” Hayden Pike’s fat fingers suddenly snapped in front of his face, effectively ending Shane’s fantasy about Ilya’s neck. He couldn’t help the small glare he gave Hayden as he sat down next to him. “Sorry to ruin whatever god awful thing you were picturing, but you literally had drool rolling down your chin.” 

Shane shook his head and forced his gaze fully away from Ilya’s table, rubbing at his chin in case Hayden had been serious. Svetlana made her way over to the table as well, holding nothing but a bottle of water. She walked up behind Rose and hugged her from behind. 

“Sveta! Hi baby!” Rose said as she spun around in her chair and pulled Svetlana’s face closer, placing a wet kiss on her cheek. “Are you sitting with us?” 

Svetlana shook her head and looked at the table as a whole. “Not today, my love. I’m meeting with Mr. Hunter and Harris to finally get the GSA going this year before we graduate. Principal Crowell has blocked it at every move, but I have a good feeling about this year!” Svetlana explained excitedly, her Russian accent mixing in with every word. Svetlana had been trying to set up a gay-straight alliance club since their sophomore year. She and Rose had just started dating secretly, but rumors spread quickly after a senior on the cheerleading squad with Rose had seen them kiss once.

Rose’s eyes looked like goo as she stared at her girlfriend. Shane was jealous, but so happy his best friend had found someone like Svetlana.

“You got this baby, I believe in you! I already told you that if you need signatures in support you’ve got mine.” Rose smiled brightly at her, pride blooming in her face. 

“Me too! I hope Crowell finally lets you guys this year.” Hayden spoke with a mouthful of cheeseburger and the noise made Shane want to tear his skin off. 

“Thank you, Pike. Always appreciate a straight ally.” Svetlana teased, but she had a smile on her face. Hayden nodded and swallowed the mound of food in his mouth. Svetlana turned to face Shane, her face softening a little. “I hope I have your signature as well, Shane.” 

He smiled at her, but his throat felt dry. Of course he supported the club and wanted Svetlana and Harris to get it started. He just hated being the only trans kid in the whole school. He’d been on blockers since 8th grade, and was finally going to start testosterone once he turned 18. He still had a target on his back when it came to his identity. 

He kept his hair short and wrapped bandages around his chest to smooth it as flat as possible, then also put his binder over it. He looked as flat chested as he could. He wore baggy black pants most days, loose fitting sweaters or sweatshirts. He tried so goddamn hard to pass as best as he feasibly could for a 17 year old. 

It didn’t stop him from being forced to use the women’s restroom or locker room. It didn’t stop the teachers from ‘accidentally’ using the wrong name. It didn’t stop the self hatred when he looked in the mirror or thought too long about his body. 

“Yeah, of course.” He managed to finally squeak out. “I’ll be back, I have to use the restroom.” Rose and Hayden nodded, Hayden still so focused on his meal and Rose with a slight look of worry.

He stood up and left the much too noisy cafeteria. He wasn’t going to the bathroom, he avoided it at all costs at school. Instead he walked down the hall and opened the art room door. The art teacher, Mr. Weibe, always let Shane sit in there when he needed a moment to breathe. He wasn’t in the room when he walked in, thankfully. He needed to be alone for a few moments to recenter himself. 

Lunch was only 30 minutes, so he probably had about 5 minutes before he needed to head back and grab his lunchbox. He would need enough time before his next class to go to his locker and put his lunchbox and sketchbook away. 

He sat on the floor against the cupboards lining the wall. He knew what was in every drawer and behind every door. He knew where Mr. Weibe kept the good paint brushes and he knew how to work the kiln by himself. This was his safe space, surrounded by artwork he and others had created over the years. 

A piece he did his sophomore year still hung on the wall behind Mr. Weibe’s desk. It was a large piece, probably the biggest he’s ever done, on a stretched canvas. It depicted the universe as the background, and two faces made of constellations and connected by white lines. The faces were leaning in, almost kissing, but were far enough away it could look like they were just looking at each other. His initials were in the corner, leaving a mark on his piece. 

What no one knew about that piece was that one of the faces had been based around Ilya Rozanov. Not even Rose or Hayden knew. It was embarrassing enough they’d caught him sketching the beautiful man multiple times, but Shane feared he would die if they found out about him drawing Ilya’s face in constellations. 

He managed to regulate his body so his hands weren’t shaking anymore. His brain was always a clusterfuck of self-hatred and self-doubt, so there was no real way to clean that up, but he felt confident enough that he looked put together on the outside. 

He stood from where he’d been sitting and rolled his neck. He was fine, everything was totally good. He headed for the art room door, pulling it open and stopping quickly. 

Dallas Kent was walking down the hallway with Cliff Marleau and Patrice Drapeau at his side. JJ Boizau was trailing behind them. Shane felt his heart speed up. He didn’t need this right now, he just regulated himself back to normal. He quickly stepped back into the art room and pulled the door shut. He tried not to listen to their conversation, but still somehow caught bits of it. 

“Mr. Hunter actually uses Hollander’s fake name. Isn’t that so fucking stupid? I talked to Crowell about it, but he said it was up to the teacher. It’s bullshit.” Dallas rambled. 

“Why the fuck should we have to indulge her fantasy? Cutting your hair and hiding your tits doesn’t take anything away.” Patrice said next, causing laughter from the others. 

Thankfully he didn’t hear much else. 

When he was sure the coast was clear, he exited the art room and made his way back to the cafeteria. He stopped dead in his tracks when his eyes laid on his table.

Rose was talking casually to none other than Ilya Rozanov. Svetlana had left, so really Ilya had no reason to be talking to Rose. He had no reason to be at Shane’s table. He couldn’t hear what was being said, but Hayden grimaced at him and Ilya laughed. God his laugh is addictive. Then, he patted Rose on the shoulder and walked back to his own table. 

Shane couldn’t stop his legs from practically sprinting over to Hayden and Rose, Dallas Kent and his goodies gone from his mind temporarily.

“Why the fuck was Ilya Rozanov at our table?!” He spoke in a hushed whisper as he slid back in his seat. Rose smirked at him and took a sip of her water. 

“He was inviting me to his beginning of the year bonfire. It’s this weekend and he said Svetlana wanted him to extend the invitation personally even though I was obviously invited.” She looked at Hayden and laughed a bit. “He also wanted to make sure Hayden knew he wasn’t invited.” Hayden audibly scoffed and pushed his tray away from him. 

“Like I wanna go party with that fucking douchebag anyway.” He mumbled. 

Shane knew his cheeks were pink. He hated blushing because it made his freckles stand out and he thought it made him look more feminine. Rose had insisted it didn’t, but his brain refused to believe her. 

The bonfire was a tradition that the soccer team held every year. It was to be planned by the same person until that person graduated, and then passed to another soccer player to plan. Ilya had been planning it since his freshman year. The person planning it controlled the invitations, the whereabouts, the getting of the liquor and whatever else. It was a lot of planning. Well… Shane had heard anyway. He’d never been invited, of course. 

The bell signaling lunch was over went off and Shane scrambled to his feet. He quickly closed his barely touched lunchbox and waved goodbye to Rose and Hayden,speeding toward his locker. He hoped the rest of the day went by quickly, but realistically he knew it would drag. 

~~~

By the time his final class period rolled around, Shane felt like exhaustion on legs. Senior English would be an easy class for him, thankfully. He should have been placed in the honors English class, but he denied it. He didn’t want any extra work. He sat in the back corner as far away from the desk and other people as possible. There was an open desk next to him, but people typically avoided sitting with him like the plague. 

He wasn’t a social pariah or anything, he just seemed to slip so far into the background people typically forget he was even an option. He typically worked alone on group projects unless otherwise assigned by the teacher, and it was the same way for seating. Shane was so used to it, he flung his backpack onto the seat beside him without a second guess. 

He folded his arms over the desk in front of him and laid his head down on top of it. One more hour and he was done. He could get in his car and finally, finally, go home for the day. 

“Is someone sitting here?”

Oh fuck. That deep Russian voice could not possibly be speaking to him. Slowly, he lifted his head from the desk. Ilya was standing right by the desk Shane’s book bag was on. He was looking down at Shane with a lopsided grin, his eyes darting to the bag and back to Shane. He felt like he was going to fucking explode. 

“Is someone sitting here?” Ilya asked again and this time Shane quickly snatched his bag and pulled it toward himself. He knew he was blushing. He knew he looked like a fucking idiot. 

“N-no. It’s free.” He spoke quietly, completely unsure of himself. His heart was racing just from saying one word to Ilya Rozanov. Jesus Christ. 

Ilya swung his bag from his back and sat it on the floor next to him as he slid into the desk next to Shane. He could smell Ilya’s cologne, teakwood and musk, and had to look away before he started thinking too hard. 

“You are Shane, right? Friends with Rose?” Ilya suddenly spoke again, drumming his fingers on the desk in front of him. Shane nodded shakily, not trusting his voice at the moment. 

Ilya Rozanov knows my name!

Shane was terrified his heart was going to actually jump out of his chest or come flying up his throat. 

“Ah, Rose dates Sveta. She is nice, Sveta loves her lots. You must be nice too if you’re friends with Rose. I don’t think Rose would befriend rude people.” Ilya rambled. Shane could hardly make out the words he was saying, instead facing completely forward so he didn’t accidentally stare at Ilya’s lips. 

“Yeah… Rose is one of my absolute best friends…” Shane spoke quietly again, but damn he was proud he’d managed to get any words out without making a fool of himself. 

“Yes, you spend time with Rose and dumb Hayden Pike.” Shane chuckled a little despite the negative language in regards to one of his best friends. 

“He’s not dumb, he’s a big teddy bear.” 

“Dumb teddy bear. Awful at passing ball in soccer.” Shane shrugged and Ilya opened his mouth to say more but was cut off. 

“Hello students, I’m Mr. Theriault. Welcome to Senior English. I don’t care where you sit, but once I take roll call that will become your permanent seat for the year. So if anyone wants to move, do so now while I find my paper.” 

Shane glanced expectantly at Ilya, but the other boy didn’t move at all. He sat with his phone under the desk, responding to a text. Maybe he hadn’t heard Mr. Theriault? 

“Hey… Mr. Theriault said if you wanna move you should do it now or else you’ll be here all year.” Shane whispered. Ilya turned toward him slightly, a look that Shane couldn’t quite understand plastered on his face. 

“Do you want me to move?” 

“No! No of course not, I just figured you had other people you might prefer to sit with is all… I didn’t want you to be stuck next to me all year.” Shane spoke quickly, over-explaining like he typically did when he was anxious. Ilya glanced around the room and then back at Shane. 

“No one else I want to sit with.” He said it so casually, like they were friends who sat with each other in class. Shane felt frozen, but his cheeks had to have been bright red. 

“Alright! Let’s get this started…” Mr. Theriault started going down the list, reading names and marking the spots they were sitting in. Shane tried not to overthink the fact that Ilya had chosen to sit next to him and listen for his name. 

“Abigail Hollander?” 

Shane froze. His mouth was dry and his heart was still pounding, but now for a different reason. He knew most of his classmates knew his legal name, but Jesus Christ having it spoken out loud in front of everyone? Shane wanted to curl up in a ball and die. When no one spoke, Mr. Theriault asked again. 

“Is Abigail Hollander not here?” 

“She’s right there, sir.” Dallas. Fucking. Kent. 

Dallas had been bullying Shane since he started his transition. Always misgendering him and calling him the incorrect name. He’d managed to avoid Dallas for most of the day, but of course he was in this class. Theriault looked over toward Shane. 

“My…my name is Shane. Not… that. That’s why I didn’t respond.” Shane tried to explain in a quiet breath. Ilya was tense next to him. Shane hoped he wasn’t uncomfortable. He prayed, for once, that he didn’t pass enough and Ilya knew he was trans. 

Theriault glared at him for a moment. 

“Says Abigail right here. So answer next time.” And then he moved on, calling out more names. 

Shane felt hollowed out inside. He wanted to sob, or rip his hair out, or hurt someone (probably himself). Dallas smirked at him like he’d won something, but all Shane wanted to do was die. 

Ilya didn’t say anything the rest of class, and Shane grabbed his things so quickly when class was dismissed he was like lightning. He felt his hands shaking, and his skin felt too tight. 

How fucking embarrassing. Ilya sits next to you, on purpose, and you freak him out by being…well a freak. Way to fucking go. 

He shakily opened his locker and grabbed his lunch box. He pushed the locker door and walked as quickly as possible down the hall. He refused to have a breakdown in school, but especially on the first day. 

By the time he reached his car, a single tear had dripped down his cheek. 

Once the door was shut and locked he leaned forward to rest his head on the steering wheel. Finally, he let himself breakdown. The tears and sobs came in heavy droves, heaving from his throat and chest. His mind swirled with how much he hated himself. Thinking of every way he desperately needed to change so that maybe one day he didn’t feel like dying when someone looked at him for just a second too long. 

He knew his parents were supportive, and he felt lucky in that regard. After long conversations and plenty of tears and breakdowns, they had agreed to pay for all of his needed surgeries and hormones…but only after he turned 18. His mom was terrified of doing something earlier and permanently fucking his body up and Shane had tried to reassure her, but once Yuna Hollander’s mind was made up that was the end. 

He’d made it to 17, and only had a few more months before everything would be different. He thought about having to sit next to Ilya Rozanov everyday as Mr. Theriault called him by a name that wasn’t his. He wasn’t sure he could make it a few more months.

Suddenly, Shane’s breathing started to shorten into something akin to a stutter. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. His chest was too tight and his vision was darkening around the edges, blurring with tears and lack of oxygen. He felt like he was dying.

He faintly heard a knock on the passenger side window. He couldn’t move to see who it was. His limbs had locked up and felt stiff. 

“Shane?” 

It was a kind voice. He could recognize this voice if he listened a bit closer. 

“Shane! Unlock the door, please.” 

He tried. He tried so hard to make his limbs move, but they stayed locked in place. His voice wouldn’t work. His limbs wouldn’t work. He couldn’t breathe. 

He was dying. 

The person tugged on the door handle, which did nothing. 

“Shane, listen to me. You’ve gotta regulate your breathing. Can you breathe with me?”

No. I can’t control it. 

“In, two, three, four, out, two, three, four.”

He tried to replicate the pattern, focusing all his mental energy on it. 

In…two…three…four…out…two…three…four…

After what felt like years, he finally managed to move his hand to click the unlock button. The passenger door immediately flew open and Rose tumbled in, pulling the door shut quietly behind her. 

“Can I touch you?” 

Shane still couldn’t speak, the words getting trapped in the back of his throat, but he managed to give a jerky nod. Instead of doing what any normal person might do, like rub his shoulder or place a hand on his leg, Rose slid over the console and into Shane’s lap. She wrapped him in a tight hug, putting as much pressure as he small body could into the embrace. 

Shane was thankful for her. So entirely thankful that she knew how to help, how to bring him back down. 

After sitting for another 10 minutes, Rose just holding Shane tightly and gently petting his head, she pulled back a little and wiped under his eyes with her thumbs. 

“Can you talk again?” 

He opened his mouth, looking into Rose’s eyes. He felt the words sitting on his tongue. He cleared his throat and tried again. 

“Thank you.” He managed to say very, very quietly. 

She smiled at him softly, caressing his face. 

“You don’t need to thank me, Shane. I’m always here. Why didn’t you message me?” 

Shane shrugged and shifted in his seat a bit. 

“I was trying to get out of the school before the meltdown happened. I didn’t have time to let you know…”

Rose’s eyes were completely soft and affectionate, like she’d seen a cute puppy. He hated when she looked at him like that, but it was a very small price to pay for her comfort. 

“I’m gonna move back to the passenger seat, okay?” He nodded and Rose slipped off him with ease and right back into the seat. “Can we talk about it?” 

Shane froze a bit. He knew talking about it would help, but there was also always the off chance it sent off another episode. Rose deserved an explanation, though, after helping him. 

So he explained everything. Mr. Theriault calling him the wrong name, Ilya choosing to sit next to him and then not speaking again after roll call, Dallas Kent pointing him out and using the wrong pronouns on purpose. The tightness in his chest and how he couldn’t breathe, the self hatred. He left out the suicidal ideation though, he didn’t want to worry her. 

While he spoke, her eyes and face warped between blinding rage and soft sympathy. 

“Shane… you don’t deserve that. I’m so fucking sorry. Can I do anything?” 

“Can you cut my tits off or make me a biological man?” He tried to joke, but it fell flat and Rose just looked sadly at him. 

“I’m sorry, I wish I could…but speaking of that… you have to stop binding your chest so tightly… I know it’s not my place and I’m sorry but it’s unsafe. It’s too restricting and I’m sure it doesn’t help when you have panic attacks.” She spoke calmly and logically. Shane knew this, of course. He knew he shouldn’t be using the bandages, but they were the only thing that truly flattened him. His binder alone wasn’t nearly enough, and the tape he’d tried hardly worked. The bandages and the binder made him as flat as possible while not surgically having them removed. 

“I…I know. I just… can’t. I have to until they’re gone, Rose.” He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands, pressing a bit harder than necessary. Rose nodded slowly, trying to show her support but also show her concern for his safety. 

“I love you, Shane. I’m always here for you if you need anything. I can’t possibly understand what you are feeling, but I want to help you as much as I can. Are you gonna be okay driving home?” 

“I love you too, and yes I’ll be fine. Thank you for always being here. It means the world to me.” 

She leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek before opening the door and waving goodbye. Shane sat for a few more minutes composing himself and starting his car. 

~~~

The next day was worse. 

When Shane arrived and went to his locker, he found it hanging open. His sketchbook (otherwise known as his shrine to Ilya Rozanov) was gone. Before panicking, he tried to think logically. Rose and Hayden both knew his locker code, so maybe one of them had opened his locker to something and grabbed his sketchbook for him? That had to be it. He couldn’t stomach the other option. He pulled his phone out and messaged the group chat. 

Gays and Hayden

Me: did either of you get in my locker?

Rosie ❤️: not me

Hayd: nope

Rosie ❤: why? Is everything okay?

Me: when I got here this morning it was open and my sketchbook is gone…

Hayd: oh shit. The sketchbook with all the pictures of…

Me: YES the only fucking sketchbook I keep at school like an idiot

Rosie ❤️: it’s okay, you aren’t an idiot. We will find it! 

Me: if this gets back to Ilya I think I will actually have to kill myself. 

Rosie ❤️: noooo it’ll be okay! Who wouldn’t be flattered by a bunch of AMAZING drawings of themselves?

Hayd: and Rozanov is a narcissist so I’m sure he’d love it

Me: they aren’t even good! He’s gonna think I’m even more of a freak!

Rosie ❤️: Shane :( 

Hayd: I promise it’ll be okay, bud. 

Shane shoved his head further into his locker. He wanted to die. If someone like fucking Dallas found his sketchbook… it would be over for him. He would never recover from that humiliation. He had to find his sketchbook, no matter what. 

He made his way to the main office, trying to not talk to anyone and instead going toward the table that was their makeshift lost and found. He ripped through the table, looking over everything from shirts to water bottles. He didn’t find his sketchbook. 

He could feel the way his breathing quickened, and he refused to panic for a second day in a row. Maybe he’d accidentally taken it home and left it on his desk? Of course, yes, that was the only logical option. No one stole his sketchbook. He would go home and find it sitting right there, laughing at him. 

Yeah. For his sanity, that had to be it. 

He spent the rest of the day on complete autopilot, focusing on simply surviving the day. 

By the time Shane walked into Senior English, he felt akin to a corpse. Thankfully, Ilya was not in the room quite yet so he had a minute to try and scrape himself back into something resembling a person. He made his way to the back corner, slumping down in the seat and rubbing his hands down his face. 

“Are you okay?” 

The sudden voice made him jump a tiny bit. When he looked up, Ilya was sitting next to him. 

“Oh. Yeah. I’m…I’m okay.” He mumbled, trying not to sound like too much of a bumbling idiot. Ilya nodded at him and sat his book bag down on the floor beside his desk. 

“Yesterday…it was fucked up for Theriault to do that to you.” Shane froze, not knowing how to properly respond. Why was Ilya bringing it up? Why did Ilya even care? Shane just shrugged, deciding that saying nothing protected him from heartbreak or humiliation. Ilya looked away, and Shane couldn’t tell what his face was trying to say. He looked…upset? He was best friends with Svetlana, so maybe Rose mentioned his absolute meltdown yesterday and it got back to Ilya. 

He really, really hoped not. He didn’t want to give Ilya any other reason to think he’s a giant loser. 

“Do you want to be partners for the project? It’s going to take all semester, and we are already sitting together. Would make sense, no?” Ilya spoke again. The project, in question, didn’t even officially start until the following week, but Theriault had said yesterday he wanted everyone grouped up no later than Wednesday of this week. 

“You…you want to be my partner?” He couldn’t quite fathom why Ilya would want to work all semester with him. He could choose anyone in the class, and for the second time he had chosen Shane. It didn’t make sense. 

“Ah well, you are smart. English is… not my best subject. You would be doing me a favor by working with me.” Ilya said with a boyish smile. There it was. He didn’t really want to work with Shane. Of course not, that would be ridiculous. 

Why would he ever want to voluntarily spend time around him? Ilya probably did think he was a freak, but knew he would need help with the project and swallowed his disgust to work with him. In this world, that was the scenario that made sense. 

“Yeah, of course. Yeah. We can partner for the project.” Shane tried to hide his disappointment and self-hate behind a small smile. Hopefully it was good enough. It seemed to work because Ilya smiled at him again and nodded. 

They didn’t speak for the rest of class, instead listening to Mr. Theriault saying something about Hamlet. Shane had already read Hamlet. Twice. 

He found himself mindlessly sketching in his notebook. He, thankfully, had enough self-preservation to not draw Ilya while sitting right next to him. Instead he drew a bear, a big black bear that took up the page. It was standing on its hind legs and reaching up at something Shane hadn’t drawn yet. While filling in his paw, he felt eyes on him and it made the hair on his neck stand up. He looked over at Ilya, who was watching him. 

Shane shut the notebook, causing Ilya to look up at him. 

“Why did you shut it? That was a very good drawing.” Shane felt his hands begin to shake just slightly, his anxiety kicking on at the idea of Ilya watching him draw. 

“It was just a sketch. Just bored.” Shane said quickly, feeling his face heat up a little. Ilya hummed next to him. 

“Can I see again?” Instinctively, Shane wanted to refuse. What if Ilya was fucking with him? What if he was going to hold it up to the class and make fun of him? But…something about the way Ilya asked and had been watching him without saying a word felt so genuine. So, he carefully flipped the notebook back open to the black bear and turned the page more so Ilya could see better. 

Ilya’s eyes scanned the page, looking over every little detail of Shane’s drawing. Shane knew his cheeks had to be bright red at this point. Ilya was leaning so close to him. He could feel the other boy's heat radiating from his body. He could smell the teakwood and musk scent even stronger and it was making him feel dizzy. While Ilya looked at his drawing, Shane couldn’t stop looking at Ilya. 

“Is very good, very accurate black bear. You just made this from memory? No reference?” Ilya sat back in his seat, leaning away from the drawing and looking at Shane. Shane nodded. 

“No reference. Sometimes I think my hand has a mind of its own. I just…put the pencil to paper and it goes. Suddenly I look down and boom, drawing.” 

“You should draw me sometime, I would be very good model.” Ilya said it in a joking tone, but Shane was pretty sure his heart stopped. Ilya was right, he is a good model and he hoped to god Ilya didn’t know just how much Shane liked to draw him. 

Shane laughed awkwardly and shut his notebook again, right as the bell rang to dismiss class. Ilya smiled at him again. 

“See you tomorrow, Shane Hollander.”

Shane blushed again at hearing Ilya use the correct name. 

“See you…” 

When Shane made it home, his sketchbook was nowhere to be found. 

~~~

Over the next few days, Ilya talked to him more during class. Nothing specific, just little bits of conversation. 

“When I lived in Russia, I saw a bear once.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes. Very scary. We lived in the woods, I was playing out back and little bear cub came up. Well… mama bear came up very shortly after and I had to run to the door. Very scary.” 

Shane laughed, just slightly, and Ilya smiled at him. 

By Thursday morning, his missing sketchbook had mostly slipped his mind. 

Mostly. 

After lunch he checked the lost and found again, as he’d been doing everyday since the book disappeared. He was prepared for the disappointment of the sketchbook not being there, just like the last few days, but to his surprise there it was. It was sitting on top of a pile of sweatshirts and other random items left behind like it belonged. 

Shane quickly grabbed the sketchbook, shoving it into his bag and walking away. 

When he made it to his locker, he decided it was safe enough to open and check the integrity of the drawings inside. 

Shane’s heart fell straight to his ass. 

Every sheet that had been drawn on was ripped out. Every sketch of Ilya or full blown drawing, ripped from its snug space in Shane’s sketchbook. The first page behind all of the torn out pages had writing over it. 

‘Show up at the bonfire Saturday for your drawings back.’ 

He felt nauseous. Who had found his drawings? His practical shrine to Ilya Rozanov? Someone in the school had blackmail over him, and for some reason wanted him at the bonfire party. 

He felt trapped, like a cat backed into a corner for its shots. 

“Hey bud!” Hayden announced himself, landing a large hand on Shane’s shoulder. He tried not to flinch. 

“Hey.” Shane mumbled back, slamming his book closed and shoving it into his bag. Hayden frowned at him. 

“What’s wrong, man?” Hayden’s tone was laced with worry and loyalty, ready to pounce on anyone who fucked with his friend. 

Shane shook his head before turning fully toward the taller man. 

“Family Meeting, tonight at Cambridge Park. I’ll text Rose.” 

Hayden froze for a moment before nodding slowly. 

Family meetings are for emergencies only. Or they are supposed to be at least. Rose had called one once because she couldn’t decide on a lipstick color. But Shane, Shane never called family meetings. He had once when he discovered his disgustingly huge crush on Ilya, but never since then. 

Shane texted Rose, double checked that the now destroyed sketchbook was in his bag,and went about his day. 

During English, Ilya spoke to him like normal. He told stories and tried to make Shane laugh, but all he could muster through the swirling anxiety was a small smile. He could feel Ilya’s eyes burning into the side of his skull, and he knew it was making his face heat up. 

“What is wrong?” Ilya asked suddenly, turning his body to more fully look at Shane. 

Shane shook his head and gave him another tiny smile. 

“Nothing, just tired today is all. I’m sorry.” 

Ilya’s eyes scanned over the other boy’s face, and Shane knew he must be bright red now. 

“No need to be sorry, just wanted to make sure you are okay. If something is wrong, you can talk to me. I know we just became friends but I am here if you need me.” Ilya spoke so sincerely that Shane was scared his heart would stop. 

Friends. Ilya had referred to them as friends. 

Suddenly his heart was no longer stopping, but had instead swung to the far other side of the spectrum and was about to thump out of his chest. He realized it had been a long time since he said anything. 

“T-thank you, Ilya. That means a lot, but I promise I’m all good.” 

Ilya smiled softly and nodded once before turning back to the board. After a few more seconds, he turned back again. 

“Do you want to come to the bonfire on Saturday? I know it’s not usually your scene, but Rose and stupid Hayden will be there. I would like you to come if you are comfortable. Will be fun!” 

Shane’s whole body seized up. 

‘Show up at the bonfire Saturday for your drawings back.’

Did Ilya actually want him to come? Or did he know about the drawings? The anxiety of the whole situation was making his head hurt. 

He nodded once, curtly, and replied. 

“I’ll think about it.” 

~~~

Later that night, Shane double checked he had his ruined sketchbook before setting off for Cambridge Park. It was dark out, and typically the park would be considered closed, but Cambridge Park was so out of the way cops didn’t normally check it. The shelters are perfect meeting spots, so they had been using Cambridge to meet up since they were kids. 

When Shane pulled up, Rose and Hayden were already there. The dim, yellow light flooded into the shelter and washed out their faces. 

“Shane! What’s going on? You’re making us nervous.” Hayden called out and Rose nodded, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth. 

Shane flopped down on the hard, wooden bench and slapped his sketchbook on the picnic table in front of him. 

“Is that your sketchbook? You found it?” Rose asked quietly. 

Shane nodded and flipped it open. 

“Yep, I found it.” He pushed the sketchbook towards Hayden and Rose, watching as their eyes widened as they read. 

“What the hell? Why are they holding your drawings hostage?” Rose asked.

Shane groaned. 

“Because they’re mortifying? All of them are Ilya. Speaking of, Ilya actually asked me to come to the bonfire too. So now I don’t have much of an excuse to not go. I need to get my drawings back, guys. Ilya…he called us friends today. I don’t want anyone seeing these drawings and then Ilya thinking I’m some obsessive freak.” 

“Well..” Hayden started before Rose smacked him on the side of the head. 

“Shane, you aren’t a freak. Anyone would be honored to have you draw them, you’re stupidly talented! As for the bonfire… I do think you should go. We will be there, and so will Svetlana! You might have fun, who knows?” 

Shane nodded along to Rose’s words, thinking quietly to himself for a moment. 

“Okay. Okay, I’ll go. I need one of you to be stuck to me like glue though. You know I hate parties.” 

Rose squealed and stood up to hug him, Hayden just nodded quickly. 

“Of course, bud! Maybe we can get you to hook up with someone who is not a total asshole. I think Harris will be there!” 

Shane rolled his eyes.

“Hayd, just because Harris is openly gay doesn’t mean we have to date. I like Harris fine, as a friend. Nothing else.” Hayden shrugged. 

“As long as you promise not to make googly eyes at Rozanov all night I don’t care. You can do so much better than that jerk.” 

“He’s not actually a jerk, you know that right? Svetlana would never hang around him if he actually sucked. It’s totally just a façade, ya know keep up his popularity?” Rose turned back to Shane. “He’s actually a sweetheart. But don’t focus on that right now, let’s just make sure we get your drawings back okay?” 

All Shane could do was nod, feeling the tight anxiety curl in his stomach. At least he would have his friends with him when he had to confront whoever else knew about his obsession with Ilya Rozanov. 

~~~

Saturday night rolled around much too fast. Shane felt woefully underprepared for the bonfire, even though he had it planned out. His parents knew he was staying at Rose’s house tonight, so that wasn’t an issue. He was the DD for Hayden and Rose, possibly Svetlana if she decided to go back to Rose’s house with them. Rose was currently sorting through Shane’s closet, making a mess of his organized system. They would have to leave soon to pick up Hayden. 

“Why don’t you own any good clothes, Shane? Don’t you want to make a good impression on a certain someone?” She pulled out a cropped white t-shirt that he hadn’t worn since he began his transition. She quickly tossed it aside and instead grabbed an oversized grey sweater. 

“It’s hard to find good clothes when all I want is to cover up as much as possible.” Rose looked at him sympathetically before schooling her expression back to a teasing grin. 

“That’s no excuse! Billie Eilish dresses in oversized clothes and still looks good.” 

“Well Billie Eilish is also a millionaire.” 

Rose snorted and threw the grey sweater at him, moving her search over to pants. She quickly found a pair of black, baggy cargo pants and snatched up his pair of doc martens. 

“Is this a Shane Hollander approved party outfit?” She asked after laying it out properly for him to see. It looked good together in an edgy way. Shane wasn’t necessarily a huge fan of alternative fashion, but it was easier to hide everything with that type of style. He nodded at her and grabbed the clothing items, heading for the bathroom to change. 

“Oh! You can change here. I have to use the bathroom.” Rose popped up and quickly beelined it out the door, pulling his bedroom door shut behind her. 

He stood for a moment, holding the clothing items, before sighing and pulling his current shirt off over his head. He accidentally caught his reflection in the full length mirror and cringed. His chest was wrapped as tight as possible, damn near restricting his breathing. It often left indents in his skin when he would finally unwrap everything to shower. 

His frame is still too feminine, despite often going on long runs or walks and visiting the gym to gain muscle. He isn’t fragile by any means, but his hips are too wide and even the baby abs he’s formed somehow don’t increase his masculinity. His eyes flick up to his face. 

The soft edges of his jaw and the plush lips he abhors stare back at him. Despite the short hair, he knows he doesn’t pass most days and the thought fucking kills him. 

Before he can fall down an even worse dysphoric spiral, he pulls the grey sweater over his head and changes into the pants Rose picked. He gets socks and pulls his doc martens on. 

When Rose returns, she looks him up and down as if to appraise him. 

“You look handsome!” She squeezes his face lightly before turning to the mirror and wiping a stray bit of lipstick off her lower lip. “You ready to go?” 

He takes one more look in the mirror before nodding and grabbing his car keys. 

~~~

The party is already in full swing when they arrive at 10pm. Shane can see the large fire from his car and can already hear the shitty pop mix playing on the speakers. The party is in the middle of a giant field surrounded by woods. Thankfully they had enough common sense to start the fire very, very far from the tall pine trees. A long plastic table is set up and filled with all sorts of assorted liquor from beer to gin. A large crowd is dancing around the fire, red solo cups raised in the air as they sway and stumble to the music. 

Someone here knows about my drawings. 

He huffs and exits the car with Hayden and Rose beside him. Hayden throws an arm over his shoulders and leans against him as they walk closer to the party. 

“Don’t worry! I promise I will be with you all night.” Hayden squeezed him tighter. “You’re gonna be begging me to fuck off.” 

Rose laughed. “Yeah right, Jackie’s here. You’ll be gone in 10 minutes, tops.” 

Shane was shaking with anxiety. He had only been to 1 party before this, Rose’s 16th birthday, and he had to leave early. 

Why am I here? I shouldn’t have come. 

Then he hears that laugh. That god damn laugh that could make Shane do anything. His eyes immediately try to track where the beautiful sound came from, stopping once they find the source. 

Ilya Rozanov is a god among men. 

His face is lit in a golden hue from the dancing flames next to him. He’s wearing blue jeans and a tight white t-shirt. No one should look so fucking sexy in such a basic outfit, and yet Ilya Rozanov manages. His blue eyes fight with the orange from the fire, making them look piercing gold. He’s holding a solo cup and talking with Troy and Svetlana. 

Then, his eyes flick over to Shane’s. He smiles widely and motions to Svetlana. 

And then he and Svetlana are walking over to them. 

“Hello love!” Svetlana says as she practically runs up to Rose, attacking her in a hug and placing a sloppy kiss on her cheek. “I was so excited for you to get here! Come, let’s get you a drink.” And Rose was pulled away from Shane’s side by her girlfriend. When he looked back, he almost jumped at Ilya standing directly in front of him. 

He was smiling softly, his eyes back to his normal shade of hypnotic blue. 

Hayden, ever the cockblock, squeezed onto Shane’s shoulders tighter.

“I’m glad you came, Shane, is unfortunate you had to bring a parasite.” Ilya said smugly before taking a sip of his drink. Hayden balked at him. 

“Oh fuck you Roz. Shane would never have come if I wasn’t here.” Hayden retorted. 

Shane wasn’t sure if he was seeing things, but Ilya’s eyes landed on Hayden’s arm around his shoulder and narrowed bitterly. His mouth turned into a flat line before he looked back at Hayden again. 

“Jackie is on the opposite side of the fire. She was asking about you.” Ilya said casually. 

Hayden’s arm dropped from his shoulders as he quickly took off in that direction. 

“I’ll meet back up with you in a bit, Shane, I promise!” He said as he took off. 

Traitor. 

It was then Shane realized he was completely alone with Ilya Rozanov. His heart started jumping against his rib cage and he was sure Ilya could hear it. When he looked back up at Ilya’s face, he wore the boyish lopsided grin that Shane had fallen for in 7th grade. 

“Do you want something to drink?” Ilya asked, casual as ever. 

Shane shook his head. 

“No, I’m the designated driver so… I also am not a huge fan of alcohol.” 

Ilya nodded, thinking for a moment before pulling something from behind his ear. 

“What about weed?” 

Shane shook his head and looked down, embarrassed about being such a wet fucking blanket. He heard Ilya shuffle before suddenly feeling a warmth on his chin. Ilya had gently placed his pointer finger under Shane’s chin and was tilting his head up. 

“No need to be embarrassed, you can still have fun sober. Plenty of people do. Troy doesn’t either and he’s having fun!” He nodded his head in the direction of Troy Barrett, who was leaning against a tree on the perimeter and talking to Harris. Shane didn’t know they were friends. Ilya caught Shane’s eye again. “Why don’t we dance or you can even just sit and watch me be stupid, hm?” 

Shane knew he was blushing. Ilya was so close to him. He was holding his fucking chin for god’s sake! Shane wanted nothing more than to melt into it, or maybe even be bold enough to try and kiss him. They stood for a moment, just looking at each other, before a loud car rumbled down the road and slammed on its brakes next to another car parked haphazardly in the field. 

None other than Dallas Kent and his fucking goons crawled out. Ilya’s eyes narrowed and his posture straightened. He looked… angry? Protective? Shane wasn’t sure, he just lowered his head and tried to ignore them. 

“Abi! Glad you got our note!” Dallas snickered as he walked up to them. Shane flinched like he’d been shot. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Kent? No one invited you.” Ilya snarled. 

“Ah Rozy, you see my good pal Cliff here,” Dallas clapped Cliff on the back “ is on the soccer team. Why wouldn’t he bring his friends?” They all laughed quietly as Ilya and Dallas stared at each other. 

”Glad you got our note!” Shane heard in his head again. He felt all the blood leave his body at once. He was going to be sick. Dallas and his friends found his sketchbook. Dallas and his friends knew about his obsession with Ilya. He was going to throw up. 

Shane turned and walked away from the group, leaving Ilya to stare down the 4 men. He needed to find Rose or Hayden. He had to tell them and they needed a plan on what the fuck to do. 

He felt the panic and fear coursing through him as he walked around, trying desperately to find his friends and coming up empty. It was like they’d fucking vanished. He found himself standing toward the front of the fire when he heard it. 

“Hey! I got something to share with everyone! Gather round, gather round.” 

The music had stopped, and JJ was holding Luca Haas’s phone hostage so it couldn’t be started again. Everyone started mumbling and turned to where Dallas was standing on a log that was being used as a makeshift bench. 

“We have a guest of honor here tonight! Hollander! Where are you, Hollander?” 

Just like in the fucking movies, the people around him parted like the Red Sea. 

“Ah! Our guest of honor. Do you have anything to share?” 

Shane felt like he was on fire. He could already feel his waterline getting wet. 

“Please don’t do this, Dallas. I’ll do whatever the fuck you want just please don’t.” He felt humiliated begging in front of the whole school, but it would only be worse if the drawings got out. 

“Whatever I want? What I want is for you to be fucking normal! To not make the rest of us play in your stupid fucking imaginary world. I figure maybe I can humiliate you out of the school.” Dallas flashed him a sick grin. “Toss ‘em boys!” He yelled. 

Suddenly, sheets of paper were flying everywhere. Some landing in the giant fire, others landing on the grass, some directly into other people’s hands. When Shane finally caught a look, he was mortified. 

They had printed copies of all of his sketches of Ilya and thrown them around for everyone to see. For everyone to know how fucking obsessed he was, how fucking crazy. He heard whispering from all around him, everywhere he turned someone was holding a piece of paper. 

“Holy shit are these Rozanov?”

“Why are there so many?” 

“It’s kinda creepy, isn’t it?” 

Shane was sure his body was collapsing in on itself. But Dallas kept talking. 

“So, Abigail, how many sketchbooks have you filled with creeper drawings on Rozanov?” He laughed “and Roz! Thanks for inviting her, really made sure she’d be here.” 

Shane’s heart shattered even further. Had Ilya known they were going to humiliate him? Is that why he chose to sit next to him in English? 

It all made sense, and it broke his fucking heart.

When he looked up, he made eye contact with those familiar blue eyes. He was holding a piece of paper, his jaw dropped open. 

He needed to get the fuck out of here. 

So, he ran. 

He turned and ran as fast as he could through the woods, listening as Dallas and his friends chuckled and the music started again. Someone, he’s not sure who, called after him. He didn’t stop. His eyes blurred and spilled tears, making it hard to see exactly where he was going in the dark. A branch smacked him in the arm, but he kept running. 

His chest was too tight, he couldn’t breathe. He choked on the August air and stumbled over a root, falling to the ground finally. He leaned over and heaved out shaking, wet breaths. 

His worst fucking nightmare had come true. Dallas had won, because Shane definitely couldn’t stick around after that humiliation ritual. 

The pain was too fucking heavy. 

You should’ve known Ilya wouldn’t go for a trans freak like you. He could have anyone in the fucking school, so why would he even think about befriending you. He’s gonna report you for stalking, your life is over anyway. You’ll go to a woman’s jail. You’ll never start testosterone. You will forever be Abigail Hollander. You will fucking die a woman. A woman who was fucking obsessed with a guy who wanted nothing to do with her. At least you could go out on your own terms, make it painless. But do you deserve painless? 

His chest was hardly moving, his lungs rapidly trying to fill and release air. 

“Shane! Oh shit.” 

Shane whimpered and pushed himself further away from the accented voice. 

“Hey, hey, you’ve got to breathe with me. Please?” Ilya was crouching down near him, but not getting too close. 

Shane tried to take a deep breath in, but he felt like his ribs were collapsing. 

“C-can’t. T-too…tight.” He heaved out, clawing at his chest. 

He vaguely heard Ilya mutter in Russian and instantly felt horrible. Ilya shouldn’t be helping him. Ilya should be far, far away from him. Laughing with everyone else. 

“G-go.” Shane muttered as best as possible, still clawing at his chest. 

“No, Shane. I’m not going anywhere. I’m sitting with you.” 

Shane shook his head rapidly. 

“Rose.” He huffed between heaving breaths. 

Ilya nodded quickly. 

“Okay, okay, Shane I’ll go get Rose. Stay here, moy lyubov.” 

Time passed and Shane felt like the world was blurring darker at the edges. His eyes were wet and his skin didn’t feel right. Everything was too fucking tight. 

“Shane! Shane, hey it’s me, it’s just me okay?” Rose approached cautiously, like she was coming up to a wild animal. “Hey, we gotta get some of your binding off so you can breathe. I’m gonna help you okay? It’s just me, no one else.” 

Shane didn’t have much of a choice other than to believe her. She helped him get the sweater over his head as he heaved in any air he could. Shane sat, focusing on breathing, as she unwound the ace bandages around his chest. 

She quickly covered him again with the sweater and set the bandages down on the wood floor. She went through all the breathing exercises with him. 

After god only knows how long, he could breathe again. He was still sobbing, and the panic was still wrapped around his broken heart, but at least he could breathe. He sat there, with his head in Rose’s lap, as she gently caressed his head. 

The air was cool without the warmth of the bonfire. 

“Ilya knew. Maybe not about the drawings, but something.” Shane whispered. 

Rose looked down at him and shook her head. 

“He didn’t, Shane. He wouldn’t do this. I promise.” 

“Kent fucking thanked him for inviting me. He’s been so friendly to me the past week after never having looked in my direction. It’s the only thing that makes sense.” He sniffled and closed his eyes, letting a hollow sob escape his lips. “God I’m so fucking stupid.” 

Rose rubbed up and down his arm in a calming gesture. 

“Shane. You are not stupid, and I promise you Ilya had no clue. Did you ever consider that…maybe Ilya just wanted to talk to you?” 

Shane shook his head and let out a wet laugh. 

“Why would he want that? Why would he want to actually be friends with the quiet art freak who can’t be fucking normal?” 

“I don’t want you to be normal, and I don’t want to be friends.” Ilya’s voice pierced through the quiet night. Shane shot up out of Rose’s lap and wiped at his eyes. Shane felt like he’d been slapped hearing that Ilya didn’t want to be friends straight from his mouth. Rose whispered in his ear. 

“I’m going to let you guys talk.” She stood up, brushed her pink skirt off and walked past Ilya. She paused to look up at him with something indiscernible on her face. Ilya nodded at her. 

Ilya came over and sat on the ground in front of him. Shane tried to curl up even smaller. 

“I’m sorry Ilya. I know it’s really creepy that I’ve been drawing you. If you never want to talk to me again, I totally get it just…please don’t report me for like stalking or something. I wouldn’t be able to start testosterone and —“ 

“Shane. I’m not mad.” He stated simply 

“Oh.” 

Ilya took out a sheet of paper from his pocket and held it out to Shane. It was one of Shane’s favorite full fledged drawings. Ilya on the soccer field, running, with a look of utter determination on his face. 

“Did you really draw this? Draw all of these?” 

Shane felt his heart stutter, but there was no point in lying anymore. He shakily nodded his head. 

“Shane these are…”

Awful

Ugly

Weird

Disturbing

“…beautiful.” 

What?

Shane blinked at him a few times, making sure he’d heard correctly. 

“You draw me so handsome, nothing like real life. Much uglier mug in real life.” Ilya joked, smiling lightly at him. 

“You don’t have to do that. You don’t have to try and make me feel better. I’m a freak, I know.” Ilya shook his head and gently reached out, placing a warm hand on Shane’s knee. 

“You aren’t a freak. You aren’t weird. The reason, Shane Hollander, I don’t want to be your friend is that I want to be more. You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever seen, so kind and talented and smart. I’ve wanted to ask you out since sophomore calculus. On the second day of class you stood up and solved an equation we hadn’t even learned yet. You blushed and I saw your stunning freckles and I swear to god I don’t think I’ve seen another person since.” He scooted a little closer. Shane let him. “I invited you to the bonfire because I was going to ask you out. I promise you, I would never collaborate with Dallas fucking Kent on anything. So please, please give me a chance to show you I really mean it.” 

Shane’s brain was swimming. Ilya…liked him? How could Ilya like him? He’d never tried to speak to him before this year. 

“You’ve never talked to me before?” 

Ilya looked away and huffed an embarrassed laugh. 

“Pretty boys make me nervous. I could hardly look at you without my throat closing up. I was too scared to embarrass myself. Svetlana practically held a gun to my head and told me I had to ask you out this year…” Ilya looked down at the drawing in his hand. “I’m assuming I had no reason to be nervous?” He asked with a smirk on his face and sarcasm in his tone. 

Shane could feel how red his face was as he gave Ilya a jerky shake of his head. 

“I just…I never thought someone like you would like me. Would even consider giving me the time of day. I mean, look at me.” He laughed wetly, tears and snot still running down his face. His voice got quieter. “I’m a fucking mess. You don’t want me, I promise.”

Ilya looked at him with utter heartbreak. He reached up with both hands and held Shane’s cheeks, wiping under his eyes. 

“I want to murder everyone who ever made you think this way.” He huffed and closed his eyes for a moment. “Shane, I’m going to kiss you now. If you don’t want me to, I won’t be offended.” 

Shane didn’t say anything. Ilya’s beautiful blue eyes stared into his soul for only a few seconds before nodding and leaning in closer. 

Shane found himself leaning in as well, eyes falling shut. He felt Ilya’s hands still on his cheeks, gently stroking over his freckles. When their lips connected, he thought he was going to melt right into the ground. It was slow and perfect and their lips slotted together with so much ease. Like they were meant to always be interlocked. 

Ilya’s tongue swiped at his bottom lip and who was Shane to deny that request? Ilya’s tongue slipped into his mouth, and Shane returned the favor. Ilya tasted like shitty vodka and dark cherries, and it was somehow the most intoxicating thing Shane had ever tasted. 

Ilya’s hands had fallen from his face, one trailing along the nape of his neck and the other holding his waist and nudging him closer. Shane had wrapped his arms around Ilya’s neck. 

Unfortunately, despite this being the best kiss anyone on earth has ever had, oxygen was still a requirement. They broke apart, panting, and Shane gently knocked his forehead against Ilya’s. When he opened his eyes he realized that Ilya had gotten even sexier with spit-slick and swollen lips. 

That’s your spit! 

The thought made something flip in his stomach, and he flicked his tongue out to taste the reminisce of Ilya on his lips. 

“Jesus, Shane. You’re fucking amazing.” Ilya was huffing slightly, still recovering from the breathtaking kiss they’d shared. He stroked gently at the hair along Shane’s nape, and Shane honest to god almost purred. 

No one had ever held him with such reverence, such care. 

“I’m amazing? You did most of the work.” Ilya immediately shook his head. 

“No, no… you have heard the saying… what is it…takes two to tango?”

Shane choked on his saliva while Ilya just laughed and rubbed his back. He pulled Shane into his lap, forcing Shane to straddle his legs. 

“So, moy lyubov, will you please do me the absolute honor of being my boyfriend?” 

Shane’s mind blanked, but thankfully only for a few seconds, before his eyes were welling up with tears again. Who knew he was such a fucking crybaby? 

Ilya’s face morphed into panic as he held Shane’s face in his hands again. 

“Oh no, no sweetheart, what's wrong? I’m sorry. Very overwhelming I should have waited I’m sorry, let me take you on a proper da—“ 

Shane leaned forward and kissed him again. It was quick, not nearly as hot as the previous kiss, but just as perfect. He pulled away, looking Ilya deeply in the eyes. 

“These are happy tears this time, promise. Yes, Yes I will be your boyfriend. As long as you’re sure you want me.” 

And just as quickly as the panic arrived it faded into a teasing smirk. 

“I would kiss you again, but that would put me in a very uncomfortable situation with my… want.” He nodded down and if Shane could get any more red in the face he definitely would have. He weighed his options before deciding fuck it and leaning back in to kiss his boyfriend.

Boyfriend!! 

Holy Shit, Ilya Rozanov is his BOYFRIEND. 

They sat in the dark woods for what felt like hours, and if some lewd noises could be heard? Well…Shane and Ilya were much too distracted to care.

~~~

11 months later

“This is the smallest apartment I have ever seen.” Rose announced, carrying a small box in her arms. Shane shrugged from the tiny kitchen, stuffing glasses into one of the three cabinets they had. 

“Yes, is small but it’s all ours.” Ilya barely had to raise his voice from the living room, as it was attached right off the kitchen and entryway. 

They’d managed to find a shitty studio apartment in their budget near Boston University, where himself, Ilya and Rose would attend school. Rose had an apartment with Svetlana, granted a much nicer one. Svetlana had moved down right after graduation when she was offered a high paying salary job for her leadership and people skills selling expensive cars to rich people. She was damn good at it too. 

Shane had gotten into the art program, obviously, and Ilya had been accepted into pre-veterinary medicine. Rose was in the theatre program. 

Hayden and Jackie stayed in Canada, both deciding to attend a university in Montreal. 

Dallas Kent and his group of fucking morons? Shane literally could not give less of a fuck about what happened to any of them.

Shane sighed happily, stretching himself thin to place a glass on the top shelf when he felt a presence behind him. Ilya grabbed the glass and put it in its place and leaned down to place a kiss on top of Shane’s hair. 

“You are not cleared for upper body work out yet, moy lyubov. Don’t push yourself.” 

Shane huffed and crossed his arms over his, now flat and 3 weeks post-op, chest. His parents had stayed true to their word and as soon as Shane turned 18, they got to work on getting him surgery and testosterone. His voice was gradually lowering, though he’d only been on the hormones for 2 months, and his period had stopped coming. 

Ilya smiled at him, wrapping his arms around Shane’s waist and pulling him flush with his chest. Shane forgot what he was annoyed about as soon as he collided with Ilya’s muscle. 

“Okay, that was the last box. Do you guys need help with anything else?” Rose appeared in the doorway, a soft smile on her face. Shane knew if it was anyone else she would be making fun of them, but she let them have this. 

“No, thank you for all your help Rose. Text me when you make it home?” Shane mumbled from against Ilya’s chest. 

“Will do, bye lovebirds.” 

The door closed a few seconds later. They stood there for a moment longer, holding each other. 

“When are you cleared for sex again?” 

Shane couldn’t help but laugh at his stupid, hot, amazing, horny boyfriend. He’d been so patient throughout everything, driving Shane to his appointments and taking care of him when his parents were at work. He did everything he could to help in Shane’s recovery post-surgery. 

When the doctor gave them the timeline for recovery, Shane was petrified that Ilya would be upset that they couldn’t do anything. Ilya hadn’t said a word about it until just this moment. 

Shane pulled away from him just a little, enough to look up at the beautiful man that loved him. 

“My last appointment, the one I went to alone, they told me I was good as long as it wasn’t rough.” 

Ilya’s lips quirked into a wide grin. 

“Oh, trust me, I will be very gentle with the patient.” 

And the next thing Shane knew he was being lifted into the air, his legs scrambling to wrap around Ilya’s waist. He threw his head back in a laugh before bringing his face down and placing a kiss on Ilya’s lips. 

And as Ilya walked them to their mattress on the floor of their shitty studio apartment, he was sure he’d never felt happier in his life.