Work Text:
The first thing Shane does when he wakes up is reach for his phone. He used to avoid doing that first thing in the morning, knowing if he starts scrolling he'll never get out of bed, which is obviously not an option because he always has classes and training and studying and he also usually goes for a run before all that, so yeah. Like he said, not an option.
But since he started seeing Ilya, he's gotten used to waking up to a good morning message when they don't spend the night together and now it's the first thing he wants to see the moment he wakes up. It always makes his day, no matter how grumpy or sleepy and tired he might be feeling.
As usual, there's a text from Ilya waiting for him, but it's not the one he was expecting.
From: Ilya (hot mechanic-boyfriend)🥰
No need to come by the shop tomorrow i am not working
Oh. Okay.
It's sent late last night- or more like early in the morning, hours after they've said their goodnights. Well, at least that probably explains the lack of the usual good morning text. Ilya must be still sleeping.
To: Ilya (hot mechanic-boyfriend)🥰
Everything okay?
Thank you for letting me know 🙂
And good morning! 😚
Hopefully Ilya's not sick or anything and he just needed a day to rest. And with Ilya's schedule every day - working so many hours, then, after Ilya's own insistence of course, coming to pick Shane up from practice most days, and even making dinner for them afterwards - Shane's honestly glad he finally took a day off.
Even though, admittedly, going by the shop to see Ilya - usually to bring him lunch, as well - is one of his favourite parts of the day and what gets him through all his classes.
Well, he could always suggest he go by Ilya's apartment instead so they can eat lunch together, but that seems too needy even to him. Ilya doesn't have days off often; Shane can't demand to spend all his free time together. They can meet later tonight, it's fine!
**
A few hours later Shane decides today is his lucky day!
His class just got canceled and Ilya's not working, which means he doesn't have to wait until tonight to see him and they can maybe spend the rest of the day together.
He's too excited as he types on Ilya and his chat and doesn't dwell on the fact that Ilya hasn't texted him all day. That's certainly strange, but it doesn't matter because he might see Ilya soon so who the fuck cares about texting, when he can be in Ilya's arms and sitting in his lap very, very soon.
To: Ilya (hot mechanic-boyfriend)🥰
Ilyaaa
My class just got canceled 😀
So I already finished for today
Wanna do something? 🥰
Admittedly he's gotten used to Ilya answering his texts in just a few minutes, even when he's at work, so when an hour has passed and there's still no response, Shane of course starts worrying. Maybe he shouldn't have suggested it. Ilya might have plans already and now doesn't know how to say so, because Shane basically just assumed they would spend the rest of the day together.
Being with Ilya is all Shane seems to want to do lately, but perhaps he's just too clingy and it's not the same for Ilya. Which is fine of course; that's probably how it should normally be- they haven't even been seeing each other for that long. It makes sense to take things slower and not be together twenty four seven, even though they do spend quite a lot of time together-
Oh. Maybe that's the problem? They're always together, so now Ilya needs some space. That would make sense, right?
He quickly types another text, hoping he's not being too needy and just generally annoying.
To: Ilya (hot mechanic-boyfriend)🥰
It was just a suggestion! It's okay if you already have plans.🙂
He chews on his lower lip and rolls around helplessly in his bed, trying to figure out what's happening.
See, that's why he loves his routine! If Ilya was working, Shane would have already seen him today, instead of worrying if something is wrong or if Shane's somehow fucking this up. It's all making him fucking anxious- even more than he usually is.
The more he thinks about it though, the harder it is to believe that Ilya would just ignore him all day just because he had other plans. Ilya's always so nice and considerate. Probably the most caring person Shane knows. There's no way he'd deliberately leave Shane worrying for no reason. Which means something's up. What if he's actually sick and Shane's not there to take care of him.
He groans and grabs his phone again, deciding he needs to call Ilya and actually talk to him and hear him, to know he's okay.
He hesitates only for another moment or two, before tapping on the call icon and then he just waits.
It rings for longer than he was expecting it to and he's about to hang up, when Ilya finally answers.
“Oh, Ilya!” He says, a bit surprised, but mostly relieved. “Uhm, hey. Is this a good time?” He asks and it's honestly the first time he feels like he's bothering Ilya. He doesn't like it.
“Yes,” Ilya tells him, but it certainly doesn't sound like it. “What is it?
It only makes Shane worry more. He bites at the inside of his cheek, trying to figure out how he's supposed to handle this. In the end, he goes with a simple, "Are you okay?"
Ilya's silent for a long moment, before letting out a tired sigh. “Shane. Did something happen? This is why you called?"
"Yeah. I mean, no?" Shane grimaces; he hates this. He feels like he doesn't know what the right answer is and he just keeps messing this up. Would it be stupid if he had called just to see how Ilya is? He doesn't know, but he quickly adds more, hoping he finally says something right and everything magically goes back to how they were and Ilya will stop ignoring him or being weird and distant. “It's just, you said you had the day off today, so I thought maybe we could spend it together? I texted you about it, but you didn't answer. And I don't know what that means, because you always reply very quickly-”
"Yes, well. Not everything is about you, Shane.”
It's not said angrily, Ilya's voice is quiet, defeated almost, but it still makes Shane flinch. “Right. Yeah. Sorry. I know that,” he says, his eyes burning as he stubbornly blinks the tears away. He clearly somehow fucked up, but he has no idea how. He knows he sometimes misses social cues and isn't the best when it comes to just… being normal he guesses, but he never felt like he had to try with Ilya.
Even from the very start, he had felt strangely comfortable around Ilya, like he could be himself without feeling judged or disliked or like a burden. And he truly thought everything was fine. But clearly not, because Ilya doesn't sound fine at all, and something's obviously very, very wrong. Shane's about to apologize and hang up, not wanting to bother Ilya anymore, when Ilya's voice stops him.
"Fuck. Fuck,” he says and now he does sound angry. Some Russian words follow that Shane would bet are curses, before Ilya takes an audible, deep breath and speaks again. “I am sorry. I am being asshole, sorry. Do not be mad at me, princess, please. I am very sorry."
"I’m not mad, Ilya, it's okay," Shane says instinctively, but is immediately interrupted by Ilya.
"Is not," Ilya argues. He pauses then, but Shane can tell there's something he wants to say, so he stays quiet and just waits. "Today is… is weird day.” Another pause, long enough to make Shane wonder if he should speak this time, but Ilya continues eventually. “Is anniversary of mama's death.”
The words come out almost too quietly, but Shane's so focused on Ilya, holding his breath as he waits for Ilya to speak, that he hears them just fine.
Ilya talked to him about his mom's death briefly a while ago, about being the one that found her when he was only twelve years old, but he very obviously changed the subject after that and Shane let it go, thankful Ilya shared even this much with him.
He feels his chest tighten now, the ache in his heart almost unbearable as he thinks about how hard this must be for Ilya. Is he alone on a day like this? He shouldn't be; he should have someone to hold him and be there for him and Shane knows of course that Ilya has Svetlana too and they've known each other for much longer, so he'd understand if Ilya felt more comfortable being with her on this day, but he also really wants to go to him; make sure he's taken care of.
"Oh, Ilya,” he says now, the words coming out soft and hesitant. “I didn't know, I'm so sorry. Are you okay?" He grimaces, really wishing he was better at this. "Sorry, stupid question."
It draws a chuckle from Ilya, the familiar sound immediately making warmth spread in his chest.
He feels a bit encouraged by that and he continues speaking, before Ilya even replies. "Are you alone? Do you want company? I can come over if you want," he suggests, forcing himself to be brave, in case Ilya actually needs him.
"Yes? You would do that?" Ilya asks in wonder and disbelief, like it's somehow too much to ask of Shane and not the bare minimum Shane can do for him right now.
"Yeah, yes, of course. I can be there in like fifteen minutes. Ten maybe," he says, already climbing off the bed and starting to get ready.
"Okay. I want you here," he says after a moment and it's not something Ilya hasn't told him before; Ilya texts him to come over basically every chance he gets, but it's obviously different this time and Shane doesn't take it lightly. He understands that admitting this, that he didn't want to be alone, mustn't have been that easy for Ilya, but he's really glad Ilya's allowing him to be there for him.
He promises to be there in ten, quickly grabbing a backpack and shoving in there everything he might need. He decides to take his favourite blanket with him as well, because it's nice and soft and always makes him feel better when he's having a bad day and hopefully it can help Ilya too now.
On his way to Ilya's, he decides to make a quick stop and buy a bunch of snacks he knows Ilya likes, and then finally, a few minutes later he's at Ilya's apartment.
Shane wraps his arms around him the moment Ilya opens the door, his backpack and grocery bag immediately forgotten on the floor. He only has less than a second to worry if he should have made sure it's okay first before basically wrapping himself around Ilya, because Ilya's hugging him back right away, so tight their bodies are squeezed together. Shane would happily never let go of him.
“Hey, princess,” Ilya says eventually, pulling away just enough so they're looking at one another, arms still wrapped around each other. As always, hearing Ilya call him princess has warmth rushing through him, the familiarity of it reassuring him in a way that even though he might not know what exactly he should be doing, Ilya wants him there and everything will be alright. “Thank you for coming.”
“Ilya. Of course," he says softly and reaches to gently cup his face in his hands, pulling him in a kiss, tender and slow even as Ilya slips his tongue into his mouth.
“Come on,” Ilya tells him when they pull away and Shane grabs his stuff from the floor and follows him to the living room.
“What do you usually do on this day?”
Ilya gives a little shrug as he settles on the couch. "Drink vodka, smoke and be sad," he says, simple as that, and Shane nods, taking a seat right next to him.
“Okay, we can do that together if you'd like. Well, except for the smoking part; I don't wanna smoke,” he says apologetically and Ilya grins, his expression a mix of amusement and fondness, and he leans in to press a kiss to Shane's lips.
“Is okay, no smoking,” Ilya agrees. Shane can smell traces of cigarette in the room, so Ilya must have been smoking before he came, but there's not an ashtray or cigarettes in sight and Ilya tasted like minty toothpaste when they kissed, which means even now, when he's having literally the worst day, Ilya's still being considerate and taking care of him, because he knows how much Shane hates smoking.
Shane's suddenly filled with the overwhelming need to make sure Ilya's okay and comfort him and look after him and do everything he can to see him smile.
“Vodka?” Ilya asks, a half-full bottle of it already on the coffee table.
Shane's not much of a drinker, but he nods; he can probably handle a glass or two.
Ilya gives him a small smile and pours some vodka in the glass and passes it to Shane, clinking it with the bottle, before taking a sip. Shane follows his lead, trying to not grimace too much as he swallows, feeling it burn his throat. He clearly doesn't do a very good job of hiding his reaction, because Ilya notices it and grins.
“I have ginger ale-”
“No, shut up, I can drink vodka,” Shane says petulantly and tries to prove his point by taking another sip of his drink. It still makes him scrunch his nose as he swallows it, but Ilya doesn't call him out on it.
“I am sorry I was a dick,” he says instead, which is truly unnecessary.
“You already apologized. It's okay, I understand-”
Ilya immediately shakes his head in disagreement. “No. No, is not okay. There is no excuse to be mean and talk to you like that. You deserve only nice, Shane. Mama would agree, I know," he says firmly and Shane smiles helplessly, fighting the urge to avert his gaze; his boyfriend is so sweet, sometimes Shane honestly doesn't know how to handle it.
"You are always nice to me, Ilya.” He can tell Ilya's about to argue with him again and he speaks again before Ilya gets to do that. “And, actually, you should be nice to my boyfriend, too,” he says, feeling quite proud of himself when Ilya's lips curl up into a small but genuine smile.
“I will try,” he says earnestly and Shane rewards him with a little kiss, before reaching for the grocery bag.
“I brought some snacks,” he announces and starts presenting everything he bought, arranging them nicely on the coffee table, until it's completely covered in snacks.
“You think they will be enough?” He asks with that half amused, half fond look on his face that makes Shane really want to kiss him again.
And he does so, simply because he can, before turning his attention to the table and the snacks he bought, taking them all in.
Yeah, okay, he might have gone a tiny little bit overboard.
Just a bit, though.
He offers Ilya a sheepish grimace; he really is trying his best.
“Is fine, we will have snacks for movie nights,” Ilya says. “For whole next year. Or two maybe.”
Shane laughs and rolls his eyes, mumbling a half-hearted ‘shut up’.
Ilya offers him a smile, before his expression grows somber. “Thank you.”
Okay, maybe he's not fucking this up after all.
“Oh!” He says then and reaches for his backpack; he almost forgot. “And I also brought my favourite blanket. It's super soft and nice and really helps- it's probably stupid, I know, but I thought maybe-”
“Shane. Gimme super soft blanket,” Ilya demands and Shane grins and obliges, smiling when Ilya hums in approval. He takes the blanket and spreads it over his lap, brushing his palm over it. “Is already helping,” Ilya tells him, even though he's doing it completely wrong because you're supposed to wrap it tightly around yourself for the blanket to work its magic, but Shane doesn't point that out. He knows he can be a bit particular about his blanket. Maybe this is more comfortable for Ilya.
“Told you,” he says instead and shuffles a bit closer to Ilya, smiling when Ilya pulls the blanket over his lap as well.
Shane's not sure how he's supposed to help now. He drinks a bit more of his vodka to keep Ilya company and they eat some of the snacks, but he doubts that's actually helping. Ilya asks him about his day and even though it was quite boring and nothing really happened, Shane tells him everything about it, thinking that maybe Ilya appreciates the distraction.
And he must be right about that because for a while they just talk about completely random stuff, even joking and laughing, and Ilya somehow ends up lying down on the couch with his head on Shane's lap, now simply hugging the blanket, nuzzling his nose against the soft fabric.
There's a lull in their conversation eventually. It lasts only a few seconds, but it still seems long enough for Ilya's smile to leave his lips, for his eyes to grow tired and sad. Shane strokes his hair, gently threading his fingers through Ilya's curls, using his nails to softly scratch his scalp.
“Do you want to tell me about her?” He asks hesitantly. He doesn't know if it's the right thing to say or what Ilya needs right now, but he desperately wants to try and help.
Ilya lets out a shaky exhale and nods his head once. When he starts speaking his voice is quiet and a bit sad, but you can't miss the love in every word he says as he talks about his mom and how smart and beautiful she was and so kind and nice to everyone, even when they didn't deserve it.
“And she always made me laugh,” he says, his lips slightly twitching upwards, like he's thinking about all her jokes and the ways she made him smile and laugh. “She was the funniest person.”
Shane hesitates only for a moment or two before speaking. “Too bad you don't take after her,” he says, grinning proudly when he sees Ilya's eyes brighten up even as he gasps dramatically in mock offense.
“Oh, so my boyfriend is an asshole,” he basically announces, making Shane's grin widen.
Shane leans in and presses a kiss to Ilya's forehead and then one to his lips when Ilya sticks them out into a pout expectantly. “What else?” He asks as he sits up again, resuming stroking Ilya's hair as Ilya continues talking.
“She loved flowers. She always wanted a garden, but my father-” he stops himself, as if suddenly deciding he's not going to talk about his dad; not on this day. “But we never had one. Her favorite flower was white lilies.”
Shane lets out a quiet gasp at that. “You brought me lilies on our first date,” he says softly, feeling impossibly warm inside. With how much Ilya obviously loves his mom, he knows it wasn't a coincidence and it feels so important, that in a way Ilya chose to share something like this with him from the very start, even if Shane wasn't aware of it back then.
“Yes. But blue lilies. Is more you,” Ilya tells him and Shane smiles, liking knowing that Ilya had put so much thought into it.
He brings his hand to Ilya's cheek now, stroking gently, silently encouraging him to keep talking. And Ilya must have really needed this, because he continues. “She was best mama, Shane. She really was. Even- even at the end when I knew she was so sad, she would still smile at me. Always.” His voice is quiet and a little wet and Shane swears he feels his heart break in his chest. He blinks back his own tears that are threatening to fall and leans in over Ilya, closing him in his arms in an uncomfortable embrace, suddenly feeling the overwhelming need to hold him; to protect him.
“Baby,” he says and squeezes him in his arms, wanting Ilya to know Shane's there for him, desperate to help however he can. “My baby,” he whispers softly, placing a tender kiss on Ilya's lips before letting go and sitting up, his own words taking his thoughts somewhere else. “I bet you were the cutest, most adorable baby,” he says and strokes his thumb over Ilya's cheek. He feels relieved to see Ilya's smile back on his face, even if there's wetness still lingering on his eyelashes.
“When I was kid, mama always said I was most beautiful baby,” Ilya tells him and Shane nods his agreement, because he absolutely believes it. “Then I saw photos. Is lie, Shane. Mama was liar. I was very ugly baby. Big head and only two hairs on it. Very bald.”
Shane can't help the giggles that escape him; that sounds so fucking adorable he has the urge to actually chomp on Ilya's cheek. He manages to hold himself back- for now at least. “I'd love to see those photos. Do you have any?”
“Yes. Not many,” Ilya says, then hesitates for a moment, before continuing. “Sometimes is… too much. Looking at them.”
“Oh,” Shane says stupidly, his expression turning into a grimace. Fuck. He probably should have thought about that, before asking. “It's okay, you don't actually have to-”
“No no, is fine. I will bring them. I want you to see ugly baby. Is miracle I am so hot now,” he says and gets up from the couch, leaning in to kiss the smile on Shane's lips, before heading to the bedroom.
He returns with a box in his hands. He carefully places it on the floor by their feet and opens it, taking out a small packet of photos.
Shane looks at each one of them almost reverently, understanding how important they are to Ilya. There are some with just him when he was little, then there are a couple of them with his brother holding baby Ilya - absolutely adorable, just like Shane thought - and there's even one with the whole family, but the rest of them are all with his mom. It's obvious, even from just the photos, that they were very close.
She looks so young and so much like his Ilya it makes Shane's heart ache in his chest. “She's very beautiful,” he says quietly, reaching to squeeze Ilya's hand when he notices it slightly shaking. It immediately relaxes in his hold and then squeezes him back. “You look so much like her.”
Ilya smiles at him, reaching to wipe his tears with his free hand. “Yes, but maybe in a few years I take after my dad and become bald,” he says teasingly, clearly in an attempt to lighten up the mood, but it only makes Shane gasp in horror, his hand immediately finding Ilya's perfect curls.
“Ilya, no, don't even joke about that,” he says, one hundred percent serious, absolutely horrified even at the simple thought of it, and Ilya's smile widens.
“Okay okay, no bald then,” he agrees. “But it is not fair, I want to see baby Shane too.”
Shane knows his parents have many albums with just photos of him, from the day he was born and they keep adding to them new ones even now, but those all are at his parents’ house in Ottawa. He considers calling his mom and asking her to mail him some of the albums or something, even though that wouldn't help much, because Shane needs to cheer Ilya up now.
Then he realises he can actually fucking do that, without bringing the whole albums there. “Oh! Wait, I actually have some photos I can show you.”
Since he left for college, every time his dad misses him he pulls out the albums and looks at them, so Shane gets random texts of his baby photos that his dad has snapped with his phone. They're not always the greatest quality, but he thinks they'll do for now.
He grabs his phone and opens the chat with his dad and the photos he's sent, looking for the baby ones and showing them to Ilya.
It immediately brings a huge grin on Ilya's lips, his eyes softening. Shane takes a mental note to call his dad tomorrow and thank him for sending him all these pictures.
“My baby Shane,” he says, brushing the tip of a finger over Shane's chubby cheeks on the screen of his phone. “You were very fat baby,” he comments, sounding absolutely delighted.
“Shut up,” Shane mumbles, but he's smiling, glad to see Ilya's beautiful eyes bright and amused, no hints of sadness in them. Shane's grateful for it, even if it lasts just for a few moments.
“Cutest baby I have ever seen,” Ilya decides, zooming in on little Shane's face. “I know everyone was squeezing your cheeks.”
Shane shakes his head. “No, I was always very grumpy and everything and everyone annoyed me. I only let my mom touch me without whining and throwing a tantrum,” he says and Ilya's smile grows even bigger.
“Ah. It makes sense. You have always been a brat.”
”Hey, I'm not a brat,” he argues, the words followed by an instinctive eye-roll and a pout- which probably don't help his case, but whatever.
“Mhm sure, princess,” Ilya says, clearly not convinced at all. Then he purses his lips together and looks at Shane expectantly. “Gimme kiss. I need.”
“Who's bratty now?” Shane grumbles half-heartedly, but is quick to oblige, leaning in to bring their lips together. The kiss is sweet and languid, even as Ilya's tongue finds its way into Shane's mouth. Shane hums and softly sucks on it, giving Ilya's curls a gentle tug, pulling him even closer to him.
Ilya doesn't seem to need anything more than that at the moment and Shane's more than happy to just give him whatever he wants, even if he misses Ilya's mouth the second they pull away only a bit later.
Ilya carefully gathers the photos and places them back into the box and he's about to put the lid on and close it when something catches Shane's attention.
“Oh, who is this?” he asks, reaching to take the stuffed bunny out of the box. He looks at the little bunny with its cute, little glasses and he can't help smiling; it looks old and well-loved.
He turns to meet Ilya's eyes, surprised and honestly delighted to find him adorably embarrassed. He's pretty sure his cheeks are pink, too. He knew the whole ’Russians don't blush’ was a lie!
“Mama had bought it for me,” he says and Shane's smile immediately softens. “I could not sleep without hugging it, when I was little. Then my father… he said I was too old to play with toys. So I abandoned it.” He sounds sad about it, like he regrets it. “I started hugging it to sleep again after mama died.” Shane shifts closer to him, hesitantly giving the stuffed bunny to Ilya to hold. “His name is Zaychik.”
“Za-y-chik,” Shane repeats the word slowly, his cheeks warming up when Ilya smiles at him. “What does it mean?”
“Little bunny.”
Shane laughs, shooting Ilya an unimpressed look. “You named your bunny bunny?”
“Little bunny. Is perfect name,” he insists, nodding to himself as he looks at his bunny. Shane's about to admit that okay, maybe it's not the worst name ever - he remembers there was a certain period of time when he was a kid where he was naming all his stuffed toys Mildred so he probably shouldn't be judging - when he notices Ilya's eyes suddenly going wide, his eyebrows rising up to his hairline, like he just realised something. “Shane!” He says and holds the bunny out right next to Shane's face, his gaze shifting from the toy to Shane. “My bunny is you, look! Is the same picture! Is you, just without cute freckles.”
Shane frowns, turning his head to look at the bunny. “I thought I was a kitten,” he mumbles, just a little bit petulantly. Yeah, of course he looked up what kotenok means.
Ilya grins, clearly proud of him knowing that. “You are my princess, Shanya. You can be kotenok and zaychik.”
These pet names are honestly getting ridiculous, but Shane decides he'll allow it because he finds them incredibly cute and sweet. Who knew he was so into pet names? Or maybe he's just into anything Ilya.
“Okay, fine,” he agrees and leans in to peck Ilya's lips. “Maybe Zaychik should stay with us tonight,” he suggests seriously, not wanting Ilya to feel embarrassed if he needs this.
“I did not know you could share,” Ilya teases him, because he's an asshole. Unfortunately, Shane still likes him. It's probably one of the reasons Shane likes him, if he's being honest. He has to hold back a smile now, even as he glares at Ilya.
“Ilya,” he says simply and waits for an actual answer.
And no, of course he doesn't fucking share. Ilya already knows that.
“After mama died, I needed Zaychik because I was alone,” Ilya tells him, reaching to wrap his arm around Shane's waist and pulling him closer, until Shane has to move into his lap, sitting sideways on his thighs. “But I am not alone anymore. Now I have real life bunny to hold and squeeze,” he emphasises his words by tightening his arms around Shane.
“And your real life bunny can hold you back too,” Shane says and slightly turns his body so it's facing Ilya, moving one of his arms around his neck, his fingers immediately finding their way into Ilya's hair.
Ilya hums and nuzzles into the crook of Shane's neck, hugging him tight enough that their chests are flush together. “I love when my bunny does that.”
Shane smiles and hugs him just as tight, feeling grateful that Ilya's letting him be there for him.
They stay like this for a while, just holding each other, until Ilya yawns and breaks the silence. Shane smiles and pulls slightly away, pecking Ilya's lips.
“Time for bed,” he says, even though it's still quite early, for Ilya at least, but Ilya must really be tired, because he doesn't even argue. He just hums and gives Shane a little kiss too, pouting when Shane reluctantly climbs off his lap and gets up. “Come on.”
Ilya obliges, suddenly looking pretty exhausted, probably more emotionally and mentally than physically, like when he finishes work late and is just happy to get home. He gets up, but doesn't move right away, hesitating for a long moment, before reaching for Zaychik.
“Okay, maybe you were right. Just for tonight,” he says, not quite meeting Shane's eyes, as if Shane will judge him and isn't the one that suggested it.
Shane leans in to press a reassuring kiss to his cheek and nods his agreement when Ilya looks at him. “Alright. But you're still only mine,” he teases, even though he kind of means it too, and his chest flutters happily in his chest when Ilya smiles at him, eyes warm and full of adoration.
“Yes. And you are my second favourite zaychik,” he says, because even now he can be a little shit and Shane's perfectly aware his competition is literally a stuffed toy and that Ilya is joking, but he still can't help glaring at Ilya; he needs to be Ilya's favourite zaychik, and kotenok and princess and everything.
His glare seems to only amuse Ilya, his smile growing wider, his eyes soft and a bit sleepy and impossibly fond. “Bed. Come on,” he says, giving Shane a light, encouraging slap on the ass before grabbing Shane's blanket as well and following Shane to the bedroom.
They quickly use the bathroom and then settle on the bed and he lets Ilya arrange them however he wants. He ends up lying on his back on his side of the bed with Ilya sprawled on top of him like the most perfect weighted blanket, Zaychik lying beside them on Ilya's side, Shane's magical - soft blanket covering them.
Suddenly he feels a bit bad for Zaychik not being part of their cuddling, especially since Ilya was Zaychik’s first and Shane stole him; if someone had stolen his Ilya from him, Shane knows he would not be happy. So he pulls the bunny closer, until it's lying right beside his head on his pillow, instead of Ilya's.
Okay, now this is perfect.
He circles his arms around Ilya, holding him and caressing his back and hair, slightly tilting his head so he can place a kiss on his forehead.
Ilya makes a pleased, little hum, nuzzling against him. “Thank you for coming and being here with me, my zaychik,” he whispers, lips brushing against Shane's collarbone. “And I am sorry I made you think I did not want to spend day off with you. I always want to spend day with you, Shanya. You know I will kidnap and keep you here forever, if you let me.”
Shane smiles, feeling quite silly now that he just started assuming the worst and thinking he fucked up and that everything was ruined, without even talking to Ilya first. “I know. I just…” he shrugs, pouting a little, even though Ilya can't see him, his head still resting comfortably against Shane's chest. “You know how I get sometimes. Sorry I was so dramatic.”
“No no, is fine. You are my anxious, little bunny. Always thinking and worrying. Is okay.”
That's… yeah, that's pretty accurate actually. He tilts his head and nuzzles Ilya's curls, pressing a kiss to his hair. “Thank you for letting me be there for you. I don't like the thought of you spending today all alone,” he says softly and he knows it might be stupid, considering Ilya literally told him earlier that he spent this day on his own every single year since his mom died, but that was before Shane. Shane doesn't even want to imagine having to stay away, while Ilya's dealing with this. Not that his grief and hurt disappear the other days, but clearly it's especially harder on this day.
Ilya doesn't reply for a while and Shane starts thinking he's fallen asleep, but he speaks eventually. “Ya tebya lyublyu,” he says, his voice serious and earnest.
“What does that mean?” He asks, feeling bad for not knowing Russian and Ilya can't express himself to him in his own language. He's picked up a few words here and there, but he doesn't think he's heard this one before.
Ilya doesn't answer right away, like he has to think about it, which doesn't really make sense but Shane doesn't question it. Eventually he says, “It means goodnight.”
Shane can't help frowning a little. He thought he'd remember the Russian words for that, but clearly not. “Ya tee-bya lu-blyu,” he repeats, saying the words slow and careful, wanting to get them right and probably failing, but he'll practice and get better!
Ilya lets out a sharp exhale and somehow holds him even tighter, burying his face into the crook of Shane's neck. Shane guesses he must be quite emotional today and even hearing Shane's bad Russian feels like too much.
Shane hugs him as tightly as Ilya seems to need to be held tonight and only lets himself drift off, when Ilya's breathing has evened out and is peacefully asleep.