Work Text:
1. cream the butter and sugar
"When's your birthday?"
Ilya froze. Shane froze, too. He didn't know why he'd asked such a personal question, they didn't do personal questions, they didn't cross the unspoken burning boundary that this couldn't become anything with verbalised feelings or emotions or care or-
"Why are you asking?"
"I want to know."
"You can just look it up."
"I wanted to ask you."
Another inch over the boundary.
"June."
"What day?"
Ilya folded his arms and leaned back against the headrest, watching Shane pull his jeans back on.
"15."
"You're younger than me," the corner of Shane's mouth started to twitch into a smile.
Ilya started to smile too. "You are dinosaur!'
Shane gave up on putting his jeans on and jumped on top of Ilya. "No, I am not! I'm only, like, five weeks older."
"Old, old, old," Ilya said between snatched kisses. "It is a miracle you can still have sex."
"Shut up!"
"Make me."
The conversation abruptly ended, tongues too busy to speak.
Shane worried about it a little on the drive away from Ilya's apartment, but didn't think about it again until several months later.
Lily: happy birthday mr dinosaur
Jane: Why are you awake? It's just gone midnight!
Jane: Don't you have a game tomorrow?
Lily: wanted to say happy birthday
Lily: don't need lots of sleep to win games
Lily: I am not a dinosaur
2. slowly add the beaten eggs, vanilla and milk
Shane had wanted to send Ilya a birthday message for two years before he first did. He had been thinking about it for months before Ilya's birthday, if it would be too much to message about something that wasn't related to hockey or sex- but if Ilya could message Shane on his birthday then it was definitely allowed.
Jane: Happy birthday!!! 🎂
Jane: Do you have birthday cakes in Russia?
Lily: birthday cake exists in Russia
Lily: better than american cake
Lily: thank you
Jane: Are you doing anything to celebrate?
Lily: going out with Svetlana this weekend
Lily: fancy club
Lily: late flight tonight and game tomorrow so no fun today
Lily: :(
Jane: I got you a present
Now this was the bit Shane wasn't sure about. His first thought had been to get a card, but that somehow felt both more and less personal than a present and so was a worse choice no matter which angle he considered it from.
Lily: what kind of present?
Jane: Wait and see.
Jane: I posted it to your apartment.
Jane: It should arrive today hopefully.
Jane: Then you can have it before your flight.
Shane stared at his phone, waiting for the three dots and 'Lily is typing' to appear. He waited for six minutes but nothing came.
3. combine together the dry ingredients
When Ilya saw the message that Shane had posted him a birthday present, he had no idea what he was feeling or if it was from complete overwhelm or total numbness.
No one had posted him a birthday present since he moved to America, or maybe even since the first birthday after his mother died. What on earth Hollander could have bought him was another matter entirely. It would be something boring, obviously. A pack of sticky notes. Socks. Team Canada jersey.
But maybe not. Hollander was an overthinker. What if it was something expensive? Sentimental?
Ilya turned his phone off. Leaving it on was a temptation unconquerable.
The doorbell rang and Ilya's heart sank to the pit of his stomach. He wanted it to be the present from Shane far more than he wanted to want it, but also dreaded what it could be and how it might make him feel. He didn't know if he could handle the disappointment of opening the door to a package someone else had sent, or Girl Scouts selling cookies that he would inevitably buy all of.
The delivery driver had vanished by the time Ilya opened his door. A small cardboard box was sat on the doorstep, ambiguous as to what might be inside. There was no logo or return address. This had to be from Shane.
Ilya carried the package inside and placed it on the kitchen counter. He folded his arms and stared at it, rubbed the side of his face with the heel of his palm and scowled. What on earth had Hollander bought him- why the fuck had he bought anything at all?
There was nothing for it. Time to rip off the band-aid, Ilya thought. The cardboard slowly tore apart, flying onto the floor. There was no clear arrows for where to open and Ilya had the muscles to balance out his lack of patience to find where was best to open the parcel from. A printed note came first, in Cyrillic. Maybe it wasn't from Shane?
But no, there at the end, was Джейн.
Ilya left the note for later. The gift was more impor-
Ilya turned his phone on and rang Shane. "What the fuck is or-i-game-i paper?"
"Origami paper. You make paper shapes out of it "
"Hollander, why have you sent me this?"
"So you can make a wish," Hollander's voice was bright and cheerful. "There should be instructions on how to make a crane. If you make a thousand, you get a wish. I reckon you probably only need to make one for a wish as it's your birthday."
"Why do I need a wish?" the only thing Ilya was less confused about than he had been before the call was the pronunciation of origami.
"I wasn't sure if you'd get a birthday cake for a wish and I wanted you to have a birthday wish," Hollander said as simply as if he was explaining the concept of goalkeeping.
"You want me to have a wish?"
"Everyone deserves a birthday wish."
Ilya was silent. The pack of boring paper staring out at him from the packaging was taking on the layers of emotion he had dreaded.
"Happy birthday, Rozanov."
"Thank you," Ilya swallowed thickly. "I will send you photo of bad crane."
Hollander laughed. Ilya couldn't bite back his smile at the sound. "Good luck. Safe flight."
4. combine dry and wet ingredients
The season was over for both Shane and Ilya by the end of April. Boston had just missed a place in the playoffs, scuppered by injuries; Shane had sprained an ankle in training and watched Montreal's swift departure from the playoffs on his sofa.
He switched the TV off as soon as the game ended, not wanting to see the disappointment on his teammates' faces. He felt horrible for not being there to help, but not as much as he might have done in previous years. It hadn't felt like their year for a cup, not for months now. Picking up his phone to text condolences to the team chat, Shane turned his attention to a message from Ilya.
Lily: what are your birthday plans
Jane: Not much, might go home to spend time with my parents.
Lily: i am coming to montreal for grand prix
Lily: do you want to come to grand prix with me
Lily: or i come see you after?
Lily: i will make all your birthday wishes come true ;)
Jane: I'm not a cars guy.
Jane: But I'll send you the door code when you get here.
Lily: so I don't need to book hotel? ;)
Jane: No.
Shane closed their texts and messaged his teammates before he could think too hard about what he had just agreed to. He did not get that opportunity.
Lily: how many nights are we having for your birthday celebrations
Jane: How long does the grand prix last?
Lily: i normally stay two or three nights for a grand prix
Jane: Then stay two or three nights.
Lily: think you can make it that long before i tire you out, mr dinosaur?
Jane: Shut up.
Jane: I'm just as fit as you are.
Jane: Maybe I'll tire you out.
Jane: ;)
Agreeing to Ilya coming to stay with him and the most scandalous emoji he had ever used in one evening felt like a slippery slope. Shane turned his phone off and hid it under a sofa cushion. There was no need for more temptation today.
5. bake
Ilya left early the morning after the Grand Prix and the night together that had followed. Shane had waved a bleary goodbye to him from the front door as he left, too sleepy to realise he was still wearing Ilya's t-shirt from the night before. If Ilya noticed anything, he didn't mention it. "The taxi is down the road," Ilya murmured, pulling Shane towards him for the last time that visit. "No one will see if I kiss you goodbye."
Shane ignored the part of himself that wished someone would- could- see them together. He let Ilya tip his head up and bring their lips together softly.
"If I kiss you any harder I will not be able to leave," Ilya whispered.
The throes of sleep kept Shane honest. "You can stay,"
Ilya smiled and kissed his forehead. "I will come back another time. Happy birthday, Hollander."
He left. Shane watched him go from the doorway, waited until several minutes until Ilya was out of sight in case he changed his mind and came back.
He didn't.
Shane woke up properly some hours later. For a brief moment he wondered where Ilya was with an inhale of panic he had no interest in acknowledging. He reached for his phone to check the time and opened a text from Ilya instead.
Lily: left you a present on kitchen table
Lily: two nights didn't feel like a big enough present for such an ancient birthday
Shane swung his legs over the side of the bed and wracked his brain for what Ilya might have got him. His birthday had been over a week before Ilya arrived, there was no need to-
He stopped and stared.
An origami crane made of indigo paper covered in a pattern of delicate white flowers sat on the table. There was a note next to it.
Your turn for a birthday wish.
Shane had never taken his phone out of his pocket faster.
Jane: My birthday wish is you telling me when I can see you again.
6. decorate
Shane gets the last candle lit just as they hear Ilya putting his shoes away. There is a hum of excitement among Shane and his parents- it is hard not to feel excited when holding a birthday cake whose candles are the only thing lighting a room.
Anya comes in first, barks with excitement when she sees Yuna and David.
"Anya, why do you sound like Christmas is here?" Ilya calls after her. He appears in the doorway. Freezes.
They sing to him. Shane thinks how beautiful Ilya looks illuminated by candlelight, face glowing from flame, from affection. Framed perfectly by the doorway. The greatest work of art Shane has ever seen, will ever see, even.
"Make a wish," Yuna says.
Ilya steps forward, leans over, blows out the candles. He tips his head up, gazes at Shane. Beams. "Every wish is right in front of me."
"Happy birthday," Shane whispers.
Anya brings David a tennis ball. Yuna searches for plates, spoons, "Shane, surely you own a cake knife?"
Ilya holds Shane and kisses his forehead, his cheekbone, his jaw. "Thank you for my cake."
"You haven't tried it yet."
"It will be delicious."
"What did you really wish for?" Shane hasn't made a birthday wish since they got married. All his wishes wake up next to him every morning, with a shelf of origami cranes across the room from them.
Ilya cups his face. His hands smell of rain and dog fur. "I told you. I have nothing to wish for. You are everything I want."
Shane kisses him and he tastes of rain and chewing gum. He remembers they are made of stardust and thinks they must be made of the same star.