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“I have an idea,” Shane announced.
Ilya raised his eyes over the top of his phone from his end of the couch, down to where Shane was curled under a blanket at his end, also looking at his phone.
Shane has a tell. Anytime he wants to try something new, instead of just saying the thing, he says ‘I have an idea’ first and then he’ll say what’s on his mind. He usually reserves the phrase for when he wants Ilya to be honest with him, or he’s being vulnerable and wants a buffer sentence between the thoughts he isn’t quite sure he’s comfortable saying out loud yet and actually saying what he wants to say. He waited for Shane’s eyes to meet his and raised his eyebrows in question at him, waiting for him to finish his thought.
“I just saw this video of couples making 10 Things I Love About You lists. You write 10 things you love about me, I’ll say 10 things I love about you and we’ll read them to each other when we’re done,” Shane explained to him.
Ilya considered it for a moment. He hated writing, but 10 things he loved about Shane would be easy for him to do.
“Not all serious mushy ones, yes?”
“Whatever is in your heart,” Shane deadpanned, holding his hand over his chest. “I’ll get us some paper.”
Shane threw the blanket to the side, stood up from the couch and returned with two small notebooks and two pens. He handed a notebook to Ilya with a pen and retreated to his end of the couch with his notebook and pen to start his list.
While they were scribbling their lists down, Shane intermittently looked up from his own writing to see if he could gauge how far Ilya had gotten in his list. He couldn’t tell but he caught Ilya smiling to himself several times. This was going to be either the sweetest thing he’s ever heard or Ilya Rozanov’s complete chaos manifesto of all the reasons he loves Shane Hollander. He was excited to hear either version.
“Okay, I’m done,” Ilya announced, capping his pen and closing his notebook. He looked toward Shane who was still deep in thought.
“Why are you still writing? There’s a million reasons to love me, pick 10 and write.”
Shane didn’t look up from his writing. “Because I want it to be the best reasons, not just any reasons,” he muttered.
Ilya sat back in the couch and watched Shane overthink for what felt like forever when he finally let out a deep sigh and said, “Okay. I’m done. I think.” He capped his pen and tossed it onto the table. Ilya opened his book to the page where his list started and turned his body around to face Shane on the couch.
“You go first,” he said to Shane.
Shane cleared his throat and began to read:
“Ten Reasons Why I Love Ilya,” He stopped. “Oh, by the way, these aren’t in any special order, so nothing is more important just because of where it is on the list,” he clarified before reading further.
“Okay. Read, Hollander.” Ilya said, making a ‘get going with it’ gesture with his hand.
“‘Ten Reasons Why I Love Ilya,’” he began again. “Number one, I love it when you send me 60 Reels on Instagram in a row even though I hardly ever reply because they make you think of me,” he raised his eyes to see Ilya’s reaction. He was smiling. Ilya knew Shane looked at all of them and he didn’t care if he replied. He just wanted to share something that made him happy with Shane.
“Ok, your turn,” Shane said.
“You let me put my cold feet in between your legs at night.”
Shane barked out a laugh. He had always run abnormally hot and the heat would just radiate from his body. Ilya would get in bed and immediately find the spot when Shane laid on his side where his knees bent, and wiggle his feet in between his calves as he big spooned him. It worked out well for both of them. Ilya got to warm his feet and Shane got a little spot of coolness that helped regulate his body temperature.
Shane went next. “Number 2. Even though I pretend like I hate it, I love it when you drive us fast in one of your cars,” he said, smiling a little. “It’s one of those things I don’t want to do myself but it makes me feel like we’re being bad when you do it, and it kinda turns me on a little,” he admitted.
“I knew it! You do like to be bad!” Ilya replied triumphantly. “Okay, number 2. I like it when you do that little jog thing ahead of me at a store or a restaurant and open the door. I like…what’s that word when you do something polite for partner?”
“Chivalry?” Shane supplied.
“Yes, I like chivalry. Is not dead like people want to believe. Kindness is always alive.”
“Number 3,” Shane kept reading. “You are thoughtful. When I would stay with you in Boston, you had everything already bought and planned out. You made sure the foods I like were there, I had space for my clothes in a dresser and in your closet. You even thought of things I didn’t know that I wanted like weighted blankets for the days everything felt like too much. You’re so thoughtful, Ilya. I don’t think you hear that often enough.”
Ilya looked at him though slightly damp eyes, “Of course I did. I wanted you to stay. I needed you to be comfortable with me, always. It was always all for you.” He took a deep breath. They were only three reasons in and he was already feeling much too emotional about how big his love felt for Shane hearing him say things he’d never told him before.
“Number 3. I love your parents,” Ilya said, looking up from his notebook to see Shane smiling that big frog grin he saved for when he was truly pleased by something. “Your mom loves me almost the same as she loves you,” he teased.
Shane opened his mouth to protest but Ilya held up a pointer finger in front of his own lips to shush Shane. Shane closed his mouth and let him continue.
“Your parents are good people. They have always treated me like another son. More than my own family has,” he finished, seriously, “They are my family now.”
Shane blinked furiously, looking down at his paper to try to read his next line. He knew that Ilya had become close with his parents but he didn’t realize how much they really meant to him.
“Number 4,” he said, sniffing and wiping his eye, “You learned to love Hayden,” he said with a little laugh.
Ilya let out a long groan. “Why are you bringing Pike into a list about why you love me?” he asked, with a little hint of fake annoyance in his voice.
Shane smiled, “Don’t be a baby. You know that’s important to me, he’s my best friend.”
Ilya read his number 4, “You are making an effort to learn Russian.”
Ilya knew this was a labor of love for Shane. Russian is difficult to learn to speak, especially as an adult and Shane was seriously putting in work. He meets online with a tutor twice a week and practices with Ilya, where he tests him with his silly little nonsensical phrases. It was important to both of them that they be bilingual, for each other.
“I want to keep reading mine,” Ilya said and continued on reading. “Number 5,” he paused and looked over his list, “Actually, I’m going to do number 6 too because they go together. Number 5 is your freckles. Number 6 is…”
Shane cut him off, “I already know this one. My glasses,” he said, rolling his eyes.
Ilya smiled. He couldn’t leave his two favorite things off a list of ten things he loves about Shane. It wasn’t just that the freckles are adorable. And it’s not just that he looks so devastatingly handsome in his glasses. They’re the two things that he feels like he has of Shane that are exclusive to him. You have to be very close to him to be able to see just how densely populated the freckles across his nose and cheeks are. Nobody ever gets as close to him as Ilya is allowed to to be able to notice that. And the glasses. It did start off that he was down bad for just how hot he looked wearing them, but it evolved into something deeper, more complex. That’s the At Home Shane. The Only For Ilya’s Eyes Shane. He never needs to use them in public or during a game, so no one ever sees that bookish, soft side of him. It’s that real, normal boring side of him and it’s only for Ilya.
“I still don’t get why both of those things turn you on so bad. Sun damage and weak eyes. So sexy,” he said with his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Should I do my 5 and 6 together too?”
Ilya nodded in approval.
“Number 5 is your patience. Not with other people, because you are not but you are with me. Number 6 is how you can joke with me but I never feel like you’re making fun of me,” he said, quietly.
Shane learned early on that poking fun is one of Ilya’s love languages. If he doesn’t make fun of you or make a joke at your expense, he doesn’t care about you. By that logic, he cares about Shane a lot. When they first started hooking up, he made fun of the number of pillows on his bed, about hiring a stylist, accusing him of not wanting to look like shit all the time. Now he makes fun of the way Shane likes the labels on cans in their pantry to face outward. The way he always needs to put his right sock on first. The way he pulls his shirt on head first instead of putting his arms in the sleeves first. He’s never poking fun at anything that really matters, it’s just his way of showing affection without letting you know the thing he’s poking fun at strikes him as incredibly endearing.
“I’m going to do number 7 too. I love it when you pick my lint,” Shane said.
“What? When I pick little fabric balls off your clothes?”
“Yes. I like it when you pay attention aggressively. I know when you pick lint off my shirt, you’re really noticing me, and I like it.” Shane said, a little bit embarrassed.
Ilya closed his eyes and shook his head a little in disbelief. He couldn’t deny it. He was absolutely guilty of aggressively paying attention to Shane. He was okay with it, and now he knew Shane was too.
“Number 7. You don’t get mad when I wash chapsticks in my jeans anymore,” Ilya said.
Shane smiled. It definitely isn’t that he doesn’t get mad anymore, because it definitely irritates him that it keeps happening. He’s just accepted it as fact that he is going to wash and dry at least one a week. Ilya is notorious for leaving chapsticks everywhere–coat pockets, cup holders in the car, in the key basket by the front door, on the coffee table. They’re everywhere and Shane usually doesn’t mind. He does mind when Ilya leaves them in the pockets of his jeans and throws them in the pile of dirty clothes. They go through an entire wash and dry cycle and then he finds them in the bottom of the dryer, half melted but still, thankfully, contained to the tube.
Shane looked at his list. “Okay, this one is kind of dumb but I feel like I need to say it anyway. You make me feel safe,” he said, not looking up but continuing to speak, “And not just in a physical way. Like I can say anything to you without worrying about if it’s the right thing to say.” He finally looked at Ilya.
“That is not dumb, Shane. I have that on my list too,” he said softly.
The truth was that Shane had always felt safe with Ilya. The trust they had in each other was mutual. It had to be. It was the only way they could continue their relationship in secret. He felt safe with him physically,emotionally…sexually. Always that one. They’d been taking each other completely apart for the better part of the last 15 years and Ilya is still always asking if it’s okay. It has never been anything other very very okay.
“Number 9,” Ilya announced. “I love it when we look at Christmas lights and you drive us around slow like a grandpa so I can see everything.”
Ilya had not always loved Christmas. It was never acknowledged as a special day after his mother died because she was the one who made it a big deal for her family. The Hollanders, on the other hand, go all out for Christmas. Yuna decorates the entire house, puts up a huge Christmas tree with hundreds of ornaments and twinkling white lights. There’s warm, home made meals for the days surrounding the actual holiday, desserts of all kinds. And the gifts. Everyone buys for each other, so there’s mountains of gifts under the tree. The warmth and love that he felt from being around Shane’s happy family made him fall back in love with the holiday.
Shane smiled. He loved that Ilya loved Christmas now. It was his favorite holiday and he was happy that Ilya had learned to love it as much as he did.
“So, that time you took a chance on us and came to the cottage. Even though I said that these weren’t in order of importance, that one should be number one,” Shane said, paraphrasing from his list.
Ilya nodded. It was true. Coming to the cottage changed everything for them. It was scary, but a needed step forward in their relationship. It was when they became a little less afraid of being found out, it was when they started being more honest and open with each other. They said I love you to each other there. And it was also when Shane became the bravest he’d ever seen him be when his parents found out about them. Even though every fiber of his being up until Scott wrapped Kip up in that kiss was screaming at him that he shouldn’t go and his heart was pounding out of his chest waiting for Shane to pick up the phone when he called him to tell him he was coming, going to the cottage was the best decision of his life. It changed their lives for the better.
Shane tapped Ilya’s calf with his toes, bringing him back from his memories, “Your turn. Last one.”
“The tenth thing I love about Shane Hollander,” he said, “is that you always came back. Even if I didn’t deserve it.”
“Ilya,” Shane said, shaking his head.
“No,” Ilya insisted. “I know sometimes I made it difficult for you to stay, but it was never about you. It was me getting in my head and pushing away the good thing that was happening to me because I didn’t deserve you. So I pushed you away to protect both of us.”
Shane looked at him through tears threatening to spill over the brim of his eyes. He never knew Ilya felt that way so many years ago. He always assumed Ilya kept him at an arms length because he was afraid of what would happen to him if people found out about them.
“I am not ever going to ever go away.”
Ilya nodded softly. After all these years, he knew that now, but it made his throat tight to hear Shane say that out loud to him. He swallowed and said to Shane, “Ok, your last one. Go.”
This was a big one. Shane took a deep breath before beginning, “The last thing is that you sacrificed everything for us. Your team. Your career. Your home. Everything. You sacrificed everything for us to be together.”
“Hollander. I said not all sappy ones.” Ilya said with a little laugh, wiping his eyes.
Shane laughed, tossed his notebook onto the coffee table and crawled down the couch to Ilya’s lap. He sat on his thighs, facing him, with his forehead touching Ilya’s.
“You know I can’t help it. Seriously, I mean it. You gave up everything for us and everyday I realize more and more how lucky I am for it,” Shane said, looking into his eyes.
“No, I’m the luckiest,” he said, wrapping his arms around Shane’s ribs and pulling him closer.