Chapter Text
Ilya was out walking Anya when Shane heard three sharp knocks on their front door. He left the laundry he was folding expecting a delivery of dog toys Ilya had inevitably ordered to be the cause of the interruption.
Instead, upon opening the large door, he found a short, slim woman, her face adorned with a small, nervous smile and with a small box in her hands.
“Um, hi.”
“Hi, sorry. My name’s Amy and I just moved in a few doors down and I’ve always wanted to live somewhere where I know all my neighbours so I’m doing a little thing. Inviting people over for drinkies and nibbly bits. And well you’re one of said neighbours so I’m here inviting you!” The woman rushed, clearly a little anxious.
Shane and Ilya had never really gotten to know their neighbours in Ottawa, besides some friendly nods and hellos said in passing, he couldn’t claim to have spoken to any of them. Years of hiding their relationship’s very existence had left some walls that seemed to still be reluctantly standing tall.
“I’m Shane, I’ll have to check with my husband, when were you thinking?”
“Oh yeah of course! Friday evening? Seven pm ish? But honestly just come over whenever. I’m at number twelve.”
“Ok, yeah I think we’re free. I’ll pop over to let you know if we can’t make it.”
“Fab! Yay! Ooo, any drink requests or food allergies? Don’t want to get anyone ill my first week on the street.” She chuckled lightly.
“Umm, Ilya, my husband, he’ll eat anything. I’m on a macrobiotic diet so I wont ask you to try and accommodate my rabbit food requirements. I love ginger ale though.”
“Super, ok, rabbit food and ginger ale!” Amy beamed.
Shane let out a small laugh. He liked Amy, she seemed nice, a little terrified of social interaction but with that he could sympathise.
“Oh” Amy added, suddenly aware of the box in her hands again “These are muffins, probably not macro-whatsit…” She trailed off, looking at her feet awkwardly.
“Oh thank you, that’s so kind. Ilya will love them, he’s got a massive sweet tooth”
The woman’s face lit up as she handed over the small box.
“Great, right I’ll let you get on with your day, hopefully see you Friday!”
“Yeah, see you Friday.” Shane returned with a genuine smile and a small wave with his free hand before shutting the door as Amy walked back down their driveway.
An hour later Shane was greeted by Anya barrelling into his shins at full speed and a moment later his husband planted a kiss on his cheek.
“Hello.” The Russian whispered into the crook of his neck.
“Good morning.”
“I missed you.” Ilya was starting to trace his hands lightly and devastatingly slowly down Shane’s chest.
A small moan escaped Shane’s lips. “It’s been an hour.” Anther moan was released as Ilya pressed a deep, bruising kiss into his neck. “Since you last saw me.”
“An hour that felt like a lifetime.” Ilya pulled back as Shane whimpered. “And it seems you missed me too” he added with a glance down to the growing evidence of just how much his husband had missed him as well.
“Are you going to make it up to me for leaving me alone for so long?” Shane asked, his brown eyes darkening with desire.
“How can I?”
“You know.”
“Oh do I?” Ilya teased, removing his hands from his husband’s waist and taking a step backwards.
“Fuck you.” Shane retorted, closing the gap between them.
“Is this how you speak to your lover?”
“Fuck me then.”
“Better.”
~
Later that afternoon, the two men were lazing on their couch. Anya was curled on Ilya’s chest as he scrolled through Instagram. Shane was reading, when he suddenly nudged Ilya’s foot with his own.
“Oh, by the way there are muffins in the kitchen.”
“Why are you only telling me this now?” Ilya questioned as he gently displaced Anya so he could stand to claim a muffin.
“Well my mouth was otherwise occupied earlier.” Shane blushed.
“Not the whole time.” Ilya added returning from the kitchen, a large bit already missing from a triple chocolate muffin. “God this is incredible.” He continued, liking crumbs from the edge of his lips.
“You would have preferred it if I had interrupted our… activity to tell you there were muffins?
“So I could eat a muffin this good while you suck my cock? Hell yes.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“Yes. Yes I am. Where did you get them from? I did not see a logo on the box?”
“Our new neighbour dropped them off.”
“We must get her gift for providing baked goods almost as delicious as your cock.”
“If you compare her baking to my dick in front of her I will divorce you.”
Ilya pouted and placed a hand to his heart in faux offence as he took another bite of the muffin.
“She invited us to a house warming thing on Friday. I said I’d check with you but we’re pencilled in as a yes.”
“Will there be more food like this?”
“Yeah, probably”
“Then Friday cannot come soon enough.” Ilya concluded as he leaned back and put the remains of the muffin into his mouth.
“These really are good Shane.”
“You’re welcome to have mine.”
“I knew I married you for a reason!”
~
By the time Friday evening rolled around Shane had changed his mind a total of seven times on what house warming gift to get for Amy. He had settled on a large bunch of wildflowers from a local florist, professionally arranged in a glass vase.
Shane was nervous, this was the first time they were going to be a couple in a group of people they didn’t know. He knew some of the people on their street knew who they were and hadn't made any fuss before now, but it might be different when faced with it up close and in person.
“I can hear you thinking from here” Ilya chirped, leaning against the door to their closet.
“I’m just nervous. I don’t even know why. This is just not… it’s not something we’ve done before.”
“Well we will be a minute from home. The second you want to leave you let me know and I will make our excuses. I don’t mind being bad guy”
“Thank you. I’m overthinking it. I’ll be fine as soon as we get there I’m sure.”
“OK, offer stands. Always.”
~
“Oh those are gorgeous! Thank you so much.” Amy exclaimed, taking the vase from Shane and stepping back to allow the two men into her home.
“The muffins were amazing, but neither of us can bake.” Ilya chuckled.
“Ah you must be Ilya! I’m Amy.” She said, extending her free hand.
“A pleasure.” Ilya smiled, taking the woman’s hand for a friendly shake.
“I’ll pop these in the kitchen, everyone else is in the living room if you want to go through. Ginger Ales for you both?”
“A Coke for me, if you have?”
“Sure thing Ilya. I’ll bring those in” She said, ushering the men towards towards the living room.
They entered to find five of their other neighbours gathered, already chatting.
“Hello. I’m Ilya, this is my husband Shane.” Ilya announced.
Greetings were exchanged and the men found their way to some unclaimed seats as Amy entered with their drinks.
The evening was progressing nicely, Shane was settling into a comfortable conversation with an older man who lived opposite them when he started to feel off. His stomach twisted as he suddenly felt bile in the back of his throat. He reached for Ilya’s hand and squeezed it tightly.
Ilya glanced at him, noticing the sheen of sweat dotting his husband’s forehead and discomfort crinkling his features. He looked back to Amy and said “We need to get going sadly, early morning for us.”
“Well it was lovely that you came. Thank you again for the flowers”
Reaching their own front door, Shane stopped and grabbed onto his husband.
“Woah, woah. Are you ok? Shane?” Ilya turned, holding Shane’s arms.
“Dizzy.” Shane managed as his skin paled and eyes widened “Gonna be sick.”
“Ok, ok bathroom.” Ilya returned, rushing to unlock the door and guiding Shane to their downstairs bathroom. He ripped the toilet seat up and gently lowered Shane to the floor.
Shane was sick, violently and repeatedly. Gasping for air when the latest bout passed. He leaned back against the cool wall, his face scrunched up in pain. Ilya pressed the back of his hand to Shane’s forehead, concern etched into his face.
“I am calling Ambulance.”
“I’m fine.”
“No. You are not fine.”
“I just…” Shane started, unable to finish as another bout of nausea drove him to lean over the toilet bowl.
“I am calling.”
Shane could only nod. He felt drained, like he was made of lead and the room was still spinning.
By the time the paramedics arrived Shane was drifting in and out of consciousness. His brain felt floaty, like none of this was real. But the pain in his stomach was grounding, defining. It cut through everything else like a sharp blade. He could barely move and Ilya was having to hold him over the toilet as his stomach continued to try to empty itself, now only bringing up bile. Every retch an effort that sapped his remaining energy further.
“Has he taken anything tonight?” One of the paramedics asked.
“No, he doesn’t even drink alcohol.”
“Eaten anything that might cause food poisoning?”
“No.” Ilya answered, frustrated. He just wanted them to help Shane and stop asking all these questions. “We went to our neighbour’s. He had a ginger ale and no food. Felt weird about twenty minutes ago. He was also very hot so I called you.”
“Ok, thank you. Just some things we needed to eliminate.” The elder of the two paramedics replied noticing the frustration in Ilya’s voice. “We’re going to take him down to hospital. They’ll be able to run some more tests and get him on an IV to replace the fluids he’s lost.”
“Can I come?” Ilya asked tentatively.
“Of course.”
The paramedics managed to get Shane onto their bed and started to wheel his out towards the ambulance. His eyes, glazed and unfocused, searched around with tired panic. Ilya leaned into his view and grasped his hand. “I’m here malysh. I’m here.” Ilya cooed gently.
Shane’s panicked breathing slowed slightly as his eyes met his husband’s.
Ilya maintained a firm grip on Shane’s hand as they were situated within the ambulance, their eyes remained locked and with what he hoped was a reassuring smile forced on to Ilya's face.
That was until Shane’s eyes drifted and started to roll back, his jaw slack and the grip on Ilya’s hand disappeared. The next moment his entire body stiffened and began to convulse violently.
“What’s happening?” Ilya asked franticly.
“He’s seizing!” The paramedic in the back shouted, not to Ilya. He was a blur of motion as he attended to Shane.
The entire world was moving in slow motion for Ilya. Shane had been fine not even half an hour ago and now… now Ilya didn’t know if he was going to survive. He had gotten so ill so quickly and out of nowhere. He felt useless, all he could do was hold Shane’s hand as his body continued to convulse on the bed in front of him.
After what felt like a lifetime, the convulsions slowed and Ilya silently begged Shane to open his eyes. His pleas were ignored. He was vaguely aware of people talking, doctors and nurses buzzing around Shane like flies around a carcase. At some point there were hands on his shoulders. Tugging at him. Trying to pull him away from his Shane.
“No.” A strangled sob escaped Ilya’s throat.
“Mr Rozanov, we need to help Shane. Please, come with me while we get him stabilised.”
“I can’t just leave him.” Ilya pleaded.
“He wont be alone, but the doctors need you to leave so they can help him. They need space to work”
The hands returned to his shoulders as Ilya reluctantly let go of his husband’s hand, which fell limply to the bed. He allowed himself to be guided silently to a side room and be placed in a plastic chair.
Hours later as the dawn light streamed in through a small window on the far wall, Ilya woke. He had no idea when he had fallen asleep and for a brief moment he thought everything that had happened the previous night had been a terrible, weird nightmare. But has he came to fully and took in his sterile surroundings, the realisation that the nightmare was real hit him like a train. He inhaled, one short sharp gasp before Ilya began to panic. A nurse entered the room to find the large Russian athlete curled into a ball on the floor hyperventilating and tearing at his blond curls. She crouched next him and placed a comforting hand on his back. Another hand went to his head to soothe the hand frantically pulling at blameless curls. Ilya continued to sob as this stranger stroked his back and head. She stayed there, rocking the man like a small child after waking from a terrible dream until the sobs faded into to chocked, shaky breaths, which, in turn, faded into steadier breathing. She pulled back slowly, adjusting to bring Ilya’s face into view.
“Mr Rozanov?”
Ilya sniffed, his face red and puffy, hot tears still leaking from his eyes and carving salty tracks down his cheeks. “Yes.”
“We managed to get Shane stable. We’re still waiting on some test results to see what’s causing this. But he’s stable right now.”
Stable. Shane was alive. Right now. That could change.
Ilya nodded mutely.
“He’s sedated, but you can sit with him if you’d like?”
“Da.”
They stood slowly, Ilya felt like a newborn deer on ice. His legs shaking so badly he thought he might collapse and the slightest breeze. The nurse steered him out of the room, silently bearing the weight of the athlete as he leaned into her, unable to keep himself upright alone.
Ilya was brought to darkened room where his husband lay. His skin was pale, the freckles Ilya adored invisible. He looked small in that bed. There were so many wires and tubes going in to and coming out of him. So many machines beeping and tracking different metrics. Ilya locked onto the heart monitor. His husband’s heart was still beating. He was alive. He was stable. For now.
He took a tentative step forward. Willing Shane to wake up. He did not. Ilya sat in the cushioned chair next to his bed and reached for his hand. He was colder than Ilya had ever felt him before, like all warmth had been sucked out of him. Ilya placed his other hand on Shane’s chest, over his heart. He wanted, needed, to feel it beating for himself. He could feel the slow steady pulses and let out a shaky sigh.
He heard the door close behind him with a soft click and made a mental note to find that nurse and thank her. But that could wait. He had another plea to make and he hoped with all he had this one would be answered.
“Mama,” Ilya whispered, turning his head upwards “mama, if you can hear me. If you can help. Please. Mama I can’t lose him. He is everything. He is my soul, the very gravity that keeps my feet on this earth. The air in my lungs, the blood in my veins. He is the sun. He is my world mama. Please do not let them take him. Please mama do not let him die.”