Archive of Our Own

"Damn it...! Damn, damn, damn it!"

He doesn't understand how to read his father's reaction - without saying a word, David got into the car and drove away. Of course, Mom will get to know everything. Of course, Shane would have to explain everything.

Ilya mumbles something like "maybe he didn't notice" or "didn't get anything," but Shane is sure that his father did get the things as they are. This is the reason why such a reaction of his followed.

"Shane, listen," Ilya takes the guy's face in his hands, "just listen to me."

Shane nods, in a tiny, fast, and desperate way, and Ilya's voice starts to sound like it's coming outside the bulletproof glass. But Shane is making an effort, their fragile little anchor is keeping him grounded for now.

"We need to tell them everything. There is no other way out. We agreed that we would gradually come out of the closet. Let's start with your parents, okay?"

"Yeah... maybe," Shane's gaze is still unfocused, "yeah... together?"

"Together what?"

"Can we go there together now? Well, we just need to get dressed," Shane says, remembering that they're both still in their swimming trunks, "pants, or at least shorts; shirts... t-shirts?"

Fuck...

Shane's stomach is collapsing.

Ilya frowns and shrugs, looking away. Then he removes one hand, takes out his phone and texts something.

"Ilya... we... we'll go to them together, to my parents, won't we?"

Ilya lets him go completely. He backs away and mutters in a strangely uncertain voice, "Listen, you'd go there on your own for now, I... I have something important to do."

"Ilya... no, no, please, don't do this to me, don't do this... please."

Shane is ashamed to beg, to humiliate himself. Those days were heaven on earth. And now what? Why was he instantly thrown into the inferno of hell? He's terrified. He's afraid that he's left alone with what he has to lay out for his parents to judge him. He's finally got to come out.

"Shane, calm down."

"Are we breaking up?"

"What the fuck?" Ilya twirls his finger at his temple. "Are you fucking crazy, Hollander?! I've told you. I have an important thing to do. They're your parents, you need to talk, they'll understand you, and actually..."

Shane doesn't listen anymore. Ilya keeps talking and talking, but Shane just nods weakly. He manages to hear something when Ilya checks his phone, and a taxi pulls up to the cottage, "Everything will be fine. Trust me, okay?"" Ilya quickly - as it seems to Shane - even casually kisses him on the lips and leaves.

Shane is left alone.

All by himself to face that dreadful reality.

***

"You hate him. That Rozanov. How did you... how did you end up like this... God, who are you to each other? Is this just something temporary? Or... is it more serious?"

Yuna arches her left eyebrow, and it seems that a crease is twitching above her thin upper lip.

"Well... sort of, it used to be, I guess I still pretended to hate him, I thought it was more convenient for everyone... but no, I... I love him. And it's been a long time. It's very serious."

Maybe.

Shane... Shane's not sure about anything again. How he's fucking fed up with those doubts! A couple of hours ago, he trusted Ilya as himself, but here he is alone, and Ilya? Where is he? Already at the airport? Has he managed to blacklist Shane on every single messenger and social media yet? And their confessions - in Russian, in English, with words, lips, hands... where did these all disappear?

"Shane?"

His father's voice. He doesn't look stunned anymore, but he narrows his eyes anyway and asks, "That's it. Okay, everything is clear with you, but where is this Rozanov of yours? Why are you sitting in front of us alone, because there were two of you."

"Ilya."

All three of them are forced to turn around.

Ilya.

His hair is styled in neat curls. Elegant white shirt and classic black pants. He's holding a bouquet of peonies and a long kraft bag for a wine bottle.

"My name is Ilya. And... sorry, it was open there. Hello."

He smiles at Shane, who doesn't take the fuck out of the situation, and confidently approaches his parents, who look puzzled. David stands up from the table, but first Ilya presents flowers to Yuna, "In Russia it is customary to give presents when meeting parents. I'm not sure if I guessed correctly with the choice of flowers, but my mom loved these."

Yuna softens her gaze, blushes a little and squints to the side. Then she smiles and, turning her gaze back to Ilya, answers, "Thank you, Ilya," Yuna delicately inhales the scent of flowers. "Come sit at the table with us. Something to drink? Tea? Coffee? Something stronger?"

"Tea, please."

"Okay," Yuna gets up from the table and starts fussing.

Meanwhile, before taking a seat at the table, Ilya walks around it to make it easier to hand the gift to David, who is still looking at him with disbelief, "And this is for you. The best Russian vodka."

David grins and - Shane exhales - slaps Ilya on the shoulder approvingly.

"Thank you, thank you. Sit down," David nods to the seat next to Shane.

Finally, Ilya stands next to Shane, who is also quickly on his feet.

Ilya takes his hand and starts talking, looking directly at Shane's parents (Yuna managed to put a mug for Ilya and return to the table):

"I love your son. This is very serious. I'm willing to do everything for him. Everything."

"Ilya..." Shane squeezes his hand.

"Wait, my love," familiar lips touch Shane's temple, "it will come to you now too."

Shane grows wings on his back again. But their little anchor seems to be getting stronger, stronger than death, and does not let him fly away. Shane is only afraid to extinguish the lights of happiness with the wind of those wings.

He shouldn't. Because Ilya adds, "I know how important it is for Shane to feel your approval. And so I beg you to accept our love and our relationship. This is not a temporary infatuation, not a mental fog, not a prank. We love each other. Finally and irrevocably."

Yuna looks at her husband, then at Shane and nods to her son, "Are you happy with him?"

"Yes," Shane has never answered his mother so quickly before. "He... Ilya is my happiness."

"That's enough for me," Yuna smiles.

David just nods approvingly again, obviously agreeing with his wife.

Ilya stands so that they can see each other's eyes. He takes out a long black velvet case. Opens it.

A bracelet. As black as the night, onyx, durable and noble palladium. And the design is completely reminiscent of the geometry of defense and attack on ice. The links of the bracelet repeat the angle of sharpening of the skate, and the lock is like a protective mechanism of a hockey glove. 

Ilya asks for his hand, saying, "We're a couple from now on. Take it as a token of my first courtship as your boyfriend. Of course, not the ring yet. But everything is ahead. Do you like it?"

Shane is moving his lips, but the words are barely coming out of his mouth. Ilya understands everything. He nods with a touching smile, sniffing a little. He fastens the bracelet on his wrist, gently caresses Shane's cheek with the knuckles of his bent fingers, and then hugs his shoulders and kisses him on the lips. Shane has no doubt anymore. This is his dear, most beloved and best Ilya in the world.

"I'm sorry if I scared you when I suddenly snapped and left you. I didn't want to appear in front of your parents in an inappropriate way. I love you. Ya tebya lyublyu. And I am ready to learn it in all the languages of the world and repeat it to you over and over again until you are convinced that you no longer need to doubt me."

"Ilya..." Shane can't hold back tears of happiness and hides his delighted face on his shoulder.

"What? I'm serious. I told you I'd do everything for you. And I am responsible for my words and promises."

Shane hugs him tightly. Clings to his loved one as the most reliable and stable anchor.

And whispers back, "I love you, too."