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The couch had been left a mess again. Cushions everywhere, blankets crumpled along the way. Shane would’ve usually been a little annoyed as he folded them up. But Ilya had spent the last three days just sitting there eating pierogis, and Shane was pretty sure he’d gotten through at least two seasons of How I Met Your Mother. It was also 10 am, and Ilya, who would’ve normally been up with him, was still in bed. So he was not annoyed.
Just worried.
This had happened before. He knew that he just needed to let it pass. And it was summer break, and they were at the cottage with no obligations, so nothing would be thrown off schedule, save for a dinner at his parents’ house. But that didn’t make him worry any less.
Shane was still wearing nothing but a t-shirt and a pair of boxers, so after he was done, he went back into their bedroom to find a sleeping Ilya curled into the corner of their bed. He climbed out of the covers and moved across, pulling the other man into his arms.
Ilya blinked awake, giving him a small smile. “Morning, lyubov,” he murmured, voice still scratchy from sleep.
Shane ran a hand through his hair and massaged his scalp. “Ilya,” he sighed, “you don’t have to put on a happy face for me. You know that.”
A hand came up to Shane’s face. “But I am always happy when I get you in your glasses.” Ilya chuckled a little and caressed the freckles on Shane’s cheek. He decided he’d be wearing his glasses for the rest of the day now if it would make Ilya feel just a little bit better.
He hugged Ilya closer to him. “What do you want for breakfast?”
“Hmm,” Ilya mused quietly before looking up at him, “maybe pancakes. With chocolate chips.”
Would Shane ever eat that for breakfast? Maybe not. But Ilya got whatever he wanted today. Shane kissed his forehead. “Okay.” He moved to get out of bed, but Ilya still held on. Shane kissed his hand. “Go brush your teeth and take your meds,” he said, “and I’ll see you in just a few minutes.
Ilya nodded and pushed back the covers.
Shane went downstairs to find the pancake mix and chocolate chips in the cabinet. Dark chocolate so that it wouldn’t be overwhelmingly sweet. Because that was Shane’s job today. He got out a mixing bowl and poured enough to make at least four pancakes so Ilya could have them later if he wanted. He pulled out some milk from the fridge and took an egg from the carton, cracking it on the counter before dropping in the bowl. While he was whisking the mixture, he heard footsteps come up behind and felt arms snake around his waist. Ilya rested his chin on Shane’s shoulder, watching him mix the batter. Just enough to make it fluffy, but not too much that the pancakes end up dense. He let Shane go for just enough time to grab a frying pan from the drawer under the stove and put it on top of one of the burners, setting it to medium heat. Then Shane turned around to look at Ilya. There were dark circles under his eyes as he ran them over Shane, who wished he could wipe them away with his finger. He numbed the urge by pushing a curl away from Ilya’s forehead.
“I took Anya for a long walk before you woke up, so she’s napping. But she should be up soon.”
Ilya just nodded and hugged him again. Shane moved a hand up and down his back. “It’ll get better.”
Ilya sighed. “I know.”
They stayed like that for a moment before Shane turned back around to check the frying pan. He held his hand an inch or so above it to check the temperature. It was hot enough now, so he sprayed some oil onto it before he grabbed a measuring cup, filled it with some batter, and formed the first pancake. Once it was on the pan, he ripped open the bag of chocolate chips and sprinkled some over it. He flipped it when it was ready, and it ripped a little, which pissed Shane off but made Ilya smile, so it was still worth it.
“First one is always the worst,” Shane laughed as Ilya snaked his arms around his waist.
He continued making pancakes and filling them with chocolate chips until he’d used up all the batter. He grabbed a plate from one of the cabinets and set it down on the counter before grabbing some maple syrup from the fridge. It was a whole 500 milliliters, so it cost a pretty penny, but it was from the sugar house nearby and it was also Ilya’s favorite. So why not support a local business if he could also give his husband something he loved?
Ilya served himself some pancakes and got some utensils before grabbing the maple syrup jug and slowly walking to the table. Once he’d sat down, he poured an ungodly amount of it over his pancakes. Shane was a little worried he would get a sugar rush if it weren’t a myth.
Shane sat down across from his husband, who was cutting his pancakes into bite-sized pieces. He propped an elbow on the table and rested his head on his hand, studying him. He knew this would get better—it always did, after a bit—but it still broke his heart. His face was blank, and he slowly ate a breakfast that he’d usually be so excited for. So despite his hatred of sticky fingers, Shane held a hand across the table. Ilya grabbed it with his own, which thankfully wasn’t sticky this time.
Once he had finished, Shane took Ilya’s plate and utensils from him so he could put them in the dishwasher, rinsing them off before he put them inside. Ilya spent that time going to the couch and put another episode of How I Met Your Mother on the TV. Shane didn’t really understand the appeal of it, but Ilya liked it, so he still went to the couch and sat with him when he was done cleaning up the dishes and cooking supplies.
About halfway through the episode, Shane caught Ilya’s eye and put a hand on his shoulder, silently asking permission. When Ilya nodded, Shane climbed into his lap, careful to distribute his weight so Ilya didn’t become uncomfortable.
Shane took Ilya’s face in both of his hands, running the pads of his thumbs along Ilya’s cheeks, tangling the tips of his index and middle fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. Ilya gave him a small smile, and Shane knew he was grateful for the gesture, but there was still no real emotion behind his expression. It wasn’t that this hurt Shane because he felt unappreciated, because he didn’t. He just felt hurt for Ilya.
Shane leaned in and kissed his forehead, after which he kissed his temple and wrapped his arms around Ilya’s shoulders.
“Hey, baby,” Shane murmured into Ilya’s hair.
Though he didn’t get a verbal response, Shane felt Ilya nuzzle his neck and hug his waist before putting his chin to Shane’s shoulder. Shane didn’t care about facing the television, but he knew Ilya wanted to watch his show. It gave him something else to focus on that wasn’t the dark, racing thoughts in his head. Shane had read somewhere that applying pressure to the autonomic nervous system helped it switch to the parasympathetic arm, which would aid the release of serotonin and dopamine. The effects were only temporary, but temporary help was better than no help, so Shane stayed there holding him for a while, hoping his weight would provide grounding and comfort for his husband.
But eventually, Anya woke up from her nap and trotted over to the couch. Shane could feel her eyes boring into him, and they had a staring contest for a bit, which made Ilya smile a bit. And that made Shane so happy. Eventually, he realized that Anya was staring because she wanted to take his spot on Ilya’s lap, so Shane climbed off of him and moved to the side. Anya curled up on Ilya’s thighs, and Shane put a hand in Ilya’s hair, guiding the other man’s head to rest on his shoulder. Shane alternated between twirling his fingers in Ilya’s curls and scratching his scalp, feeling Ilya exhale into his touch. Ilya was petting Anya’s head, which made her sleepy again, and she decided it was time for another nap. While she was snoozing, she started to snore, and Ilya gave a little chuckle, but he didn’t laugh the way he usually would.
After a bit, Shane placed another kiss on Ilya's temple. “I’m gonna go make us some coffee.”
“Sounds good,” Ilya replied quietly.
Shane went to the kitchen and set up the coffee pot before grabbing two mugs from the cabinet. He put some coffee creamer in one of them for Ilya. He always poured it before the coffee now because he found that the coffee cooled faster and the cream was better distributed when he did it that way. Once he was done pouring the coffee, he brought the two mugs to the living room and set them each down on a coaster before taking his place on the couch again. He brought Ilya’s head back to his shoulder, continuing to play with his hair.
He took Ilya’s free hand in his, and he laced their fingers together before placing his lips over Ilya’s hair. “I love you,” he told him quietly. “I love you so much.” Shane pressed a kiss to the spot before leaning his cheek against it.
Ilya immediately melted into him and whispered into his shoulder. “I love you too.”
Shane let go of Ilya’s hand and put his own to Ilya’s face, turning his chin up so he could look in his eyes. They were leaning towards blue today; they were so pretty, and sad.
“Do you wanna talk about it? Whatever’s eating at you?”
Ilya shook his head. “Is nothing to tell,” he said as he put his head back on Shane’s shoulder. “Just…numb, I guess. That’s the worst part. When there is no reason.” He exhaled. “Because there is no reason. I just…feel nothing, and I don’t know why.”
Shane knew all of Ilya’s tells, which was also how he knew Ilya was telling the truth. That was also just how it worked. Sometimes there was nothing to tell. There was nothing to fight, nothing he could help Ilya try to ignore or forget.
“I wish I could feel it more today. Because you do your best to understand. You are so sweet, and you try so hard. And you have been so helpful,” Ilya started. “But I love you so much. And I hope you know. Even on day like today, where my feelings do not work.” He inhaled before continuing. “Ty vsegda moy milyy angel.”
Ilya was now looking up at Shane with worried, pleading eyes. As if he were begging Shane to believe him. And he knew it was just Ilya’s thoughts telling him lies, but it cut deep that Ilya thought he would ever have to plead for Shane to understand him. The kind of deep cut that made Shane want to pray to whoever he could if it would mean Ilya felt a little less pain.
“I love you too.” Shane pushed a curl back from his forehead and pressed a lingering kiss there. “And whatever you’re feeling, or not feeling, I’m always gonna be here for you, okay?”
Ilya nodded, and Shane hugged an arm around his waist. Ilya returned the gesture quickly, keeping one hand around Shane and using the other to scratch Anya’s head while she continued to sleep on his lap. His head found its way back to Shane’s shoulder, and he returned his focus to the TV.
Eventually, Shane looked over and realized Ilya’s hand had stopped moving, simply resting atop Anya, and that his eyes had closed. He grabbed the remote and paused the episode before turning off the TV. He pointed Anya to the end of the couch as he leaned backwards towards the other end, taking Ilya with him. Shane rested his husband's head on his chest before he reached to grab a light blanket, draping it over his sleeping husband. He wrapped one of his arms around Ilya and put his other hand in his hair, soothingly rubbing his scalp. Shane softly kissed the top of his head, determined not to wake him but also determined to let him know how much he was loved, even when he wasn’t awake to hear it.
“Don’t worry, my Ilya,” he whispered. “I’ve always got you.”