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Shane was scrolling through his phone, Ilya's head in his lap. It was a rare weekend during the season where neither of them had a game or practice, so Shane was visiting Ilya in Ottawa. Shane cherished these quiet moments together. He had thought things would get easier the longer they were together, but instead every day got a little harder. They could both feel the strain of having to remain in the closet and apart.
Shane could especially tell that Ilya was struggling, and he was worried. It seemed like his depression was getting worse. Shane didn't know if it was because of their secret or his childhood trauma or his team or the move. He didn't know because Ilya wouldn't tell him. Every time Shane tried to broach the subject, Ilya shut him down. Sometimes coldly, the way he used to when they were kids too scared to talk about anything real. Sometimes with deflection, a promise they could talk after they got more important matters out of the way (matters which, unfortunately, often left Shane unable to remember his own name, let alone what he wanted to talk about with Ilya). Sometimes with anger, as if Shane was accusing him of a moral failing instead of simply trying to offer support. Sometimes with a flat out denial, an insistence that he was fine and Shane didn't need to worry.
But Shane did worry. He worried a lot. It was one of the most fundamental parts of who he was. He worried about all the ways things could go wrong, and he found ways to fix it. He especially worried a lot, more than he would like to admit, about Ilya's depression being worse than he let on. About Ilya, god forbid, deciding to follow in his mother's footsteps. He wasn't sure he could survive that. But pressing the issue often seemed to make things worse. He hated fighting with Ilya, especially during the season when they had so little time together. So he rarely pushed when Ilya shut him down. It often left him feeling like he was walking on eggshells, and he hated that, but it was better than an argument that would likely end with one of them storming out.
When Shane had arrived earlier that day, he had seen the haunted look in Ilya's eyes. But as always, when Shane tried asking if he was alright, Ilya shut him down, first with annoyance, then with sex. So, as Ilya laid in Shane's lap in post-orgasmic bliss, Shane idly playing with his hair, Shane tried to plan. It was obvious that Ilya wouldn't talk to Shane about his depression. Whether it was pride, shame, fear, or some combination, this was not something Ilya felt comfortable discussing with Shane, and he never had been for the entirety of their relationship. It was naive of Shane to think that would change. Just telling Ilya he was here for him clearly wasn't enough (especially when he couldn't always be here), since with every visit, Ilya seemed more withdrawn.
But maybe Ilya would be willing to talk to somebody else.
To be honest, Shane didn't know much about mental health treatment. It's not like it was something that was really discussed in the hockey world. Admitting to needing help was tantamount to admitting to being weak, and that was the ultimate cardinal sin in hockey. If any players were getting treatment, they certainly weren't publicizing it. And his family, as supportive as they are, weren't much better. They weren't exactly a "talking about your feelings" family. They were more into ignoring bad feelings until they went away.
But since co-founding the Irina foundation, and falling in love with someone with depression, Shane had become more informed. If Ilya ever wanted to get better, he needed help. Keeping it all inside wouldn't work; he needed to talk to somebody. If not to Shane, then to somebody else.
So that was the plan Shane was currently focused on; finding someone Ilya could talk to. The more research he did, the more certain he became that therapy could be exactly what Ilya needed. There was one type that kept coming up in Shane's research that seemed particularly promising: Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, or CBT. It involved addressing negative thought patterns and replacing them with healthier alternatives. It facing problems head on, from childhood trauma to work life stress, with the idea that even if we can't change those things, we can change how we think about them. It seemed perfect for Ilya. He could have the opportunity to talk about the problems he had been bottling up his whole life, in a judgment free zone with a neutral third party. He could work at recognizing bad thoughts and habits, and find healthier coping mechanisms to escape his depressive spiraling. Shane feared that Ilya had no coping mechanisms since coming to Ottawa. He was no longer filling the void inside of him with mindless sex or alcohol. Shane was supposed to fill that void, but he wasn't always there, and he clearly wasn't doing a great job of it even when he was. Ilya needed to find new strategies to overcome his worsening depression, and he needed to find ways to do it without Shane.
Maybe, with time, he would even reach a point where he felt comfortable opening up to Shane. Shane could be there for Ilya like he wanted, without being scared of accidentally upsetting him. The chasm that quietly widened between them each day would finally close, bringing them one step closer to their happily ever after. Shane was almost giddy at the possibilities. He would usually formulate a more concrete plan before broaching the topic, but he wanted to discuss this as soon as possible—this was something that should have, frankly, been addressed months ago, and Shane wouldn't let Ilya suffer in silence any longer. What better time to discuss the possibility than now, when they were both relaxed and in no rush.
“Have you ever heard of CBT?” Shane asked, without preamble. Might as well get the basics out of the way.
Ilya choked on air and sat upright, abandoning Shane's lap. Not off to a great start. “Are you alright?” Shane asked.
Ilya cleared his throat and glanced sideways at Shane. “Yes, I am fine. You just surprised me. Yes, I have heard of CBT.” As much as Ilya liked to claim that Russians didn’t blush, Shane could see the rosy hue rising on his cheeks. Shane would usually crack a joke, ask who was the pomidor now, but he knew this was a sensitive subject. Ilya always clammed up when discussions about his mental health came up and Shane didn’t want to scare him away or seem like he was mocking him.
“Oh, that’s good! Have you ever thought about it?”
Ilya cleared his throat. “Uh, not really.” The way he averted his eyes led Shane to believe that maybe wasn’t true. He wondered if Ilya actually had looked into therapy, and immediately felt a pang in his chest at the realization that Ilya was too ashamed to admit that to Shane. Hopefully, if Shane was the one to raise the idea, Ilya would realize there was no reason to be ashamed.
“Oh, well, would you?”
“Would I think about it?” Ilya clarified, raising one eyebrow.
“Yeah, I just mean, I was thinking it could be good. Maybe. So you could look into it. If you wanted,” Shane rambled.
“You think it would be good?” Ilya sounded surprised.
Shane gulped. This was not the reaction Shane was expecting—he had expected either ignorance or outright rejection—and he was becoming nervous this was going to turn into a fight. Ilya was always defensive about his mental health and Shane couldn't think of any other reason he would be acting so off. “I don’t know. I think so.”
Ilya shrugged and nodded, smiling softly. “Okey.”
“Okay?” Shane repeated, somewhat shocked. That was far easier than he anticipated. “Okay as in you will look into it?”
“Sure. I will look into it. Have you?”
“A little, but I only just found out about it. I just—stumbled across it online," no need to tell Ilya he had been actively searching for treatment options for him; he didn't see that going well, "But I can definitely do some research and our next break we are together, we can talk about it more. Does that work?” Ilya nodded in agreement and Shane beamed back at him before leaning in to peck him on the lips. “Thank you for being open to this. I really do think it could be good.”
“Of course, lyubimyy, I would do anything for you. I love you.”
“Ya tebya lyublu,” Shane replied, feeling warm and gooey inside. He loved Ilya so much, and it was such a privilege to be loved back by him.
There was, unsurprisingly, not much talking after that.
~~~
They don’t see each other again in person until two weeks later, when Montreal and Ottawa compete. Shane had a couple days off after that, so he told the team he would be spending a couple extra days in Ottawa with family instead of bussing with the team. It wasn't a lie; Shane just didn't clarify which family he meant. No one bothered pressing. Most of the team made obvious they didn't particularly want him around since his coming out. Shane tried to focus more on his gratitude that no one was prying, rather than the icy feeling growing in his chest. Besides, now wasn't the time to focus on his own feeling. Right now, he was focused on Ilya.
In their two week stretch apart, Shane had been a bit obsessive in his research. Now that he had a tangible idea for how he could help Ilya, that Ilya was actually open to, he went all out. He had found dozens of options of therapists Ilya could check out, both online and in Ottawa, including some that spoke Russian. The more he read about people's successful experiences with CBT and the many great therapists out there, the more hopeful he became that this could really help turn things around for Ilya. He thought of Ilya's bliss that first time he visited the cottage, when they had both seemed so optimistic about the future. He hoped this could be the first step in getting that back.
Shane raised the matter almost as soon as they got home. The Centaurs had lost, but it was closer than it would have been two years ago, and Shane was proud of how far Ilya had brought the team. Still, he could see Ilya was struggling, the repeated losses weighing him down, and Shane knew they needed to talk. Even if that meant delaying their reunion sex, much to Ilya's chagrin. “I did a bunch of research and I’ve found some options. I want to say again that I really appreciate you being so open to this. I honestly expected you to say no. You're usually so-" Shane cut himself off before he accidentally said something hurtful. He had also been researching how to best discuss these sensitive issues with your partner, and he knew better than to play the blame game. Now was not the time to focus on Ilya's issues with communication and depression in the past. They were focusing on the future. "I just mean- I know it can be scary and I’m so proud of you for being so brave. I really do think this will be good for you. For us,” Shane said, and he hoped his tone conveyed how sincere he was. He was so proud that Ilya was even considering addressing his mental health issues and trauma. He had come so far from his former self who shut down if there was even a wisp of emotional vulnerability. “So, for options-“ Ilya interrupted Shane before he could continue.
“Wait, wait, wait… I'm brave? You mean- I am the one who will be doing this?” Ilya’s eyes bugged out of his skull and Shane would have laughed if he wasn’t so confused.
“Uh, yes. I thought that was obvious?”
“Why would that be obvious?" Ilya exclaimed, sounding shocked, "I thought it would be you?”
It hadn’t even occurred to Shane that Ilya might think that. Sure, Shane was a generally pretty anxious person and was also struggling somewhat with being apart from Ilya, and hiding this massive secret, and his team becoming progressively colder ever since he came out, and the mounting pressure of being a good captain and boyfriend and son and role model threatening to crush him… but it wasn't like he was depressed. Those were all issues he should be able to deal with on his own—and he could. He knew he needed to be strong for both him and Ilya, so Ilya could focus on healing. Ilya was the one who was actually struggling and had real trauma to address. Every one of Ilya’s family members had treated him like shit, except for his mother who had killed herself, for fuck's sake. On top of that, he now had to deal with being all alone in a new city and captaining the worst team in the league, after losing both Boston and Russia in one fell swoop, and hiding his relationship and authentic self under threat of public humiliation at best, or criminalization at worst. Not to mention the clinical depression that ran in his family. Ilya was obviously the one whose mental health needed to be focused on, the one with a mental illness that actually needed medical treatment, not Shane. But apparently, that wasn't as obvious as Shane thought. “No, I mean, I guess maybe if you have a really good experience with it I would consider it, but I don’t think I need it.”
“But I do?” Shane winced at Ilya’s harsh response. “Why the fuck would I “need” CBT?” He seemed genuinely blindsided, and Shane realized that Ilya must have thought he was covering up his mental health issues better than he actually was, if he was this shocked at Shane thinking he needed help. Shane should have known his easy acceptance had been too good to be true.
“It's not a bad thing to need! Or, need is probably the wrong word. I know you don't need it,” Shane really hadn’t meant to imply that there was something inherently wrong about Ilya that needed to be fixed or anything. He only wanted him to be happy. “I just think that you could really benefit from it!”
“Benefit from it? I promise, I would not benefit," he scoffed, "I was fine to help you to try it if you wanted, but I do not want! It would be too painful.” Ilya looked physically ill at the thought and was rapidly paling. It seemed like an extreme reaction, but Shane supposed he should have expected it based on the way Ilya always clammed up when Shane tried to get him to open up and talk about his problems. He was practically allergic to being emotionally vulnerable.
“I know, baby, I know it would be painful," Shane knew how much it hurt Ilya to think about his past. For as long as Shane knew him, Ilya shut down at so much as a mention of Russia. And he knew how painful it was for Ilya to have to admit that he was struggling, when he spent his whole life having to be strong. "But that’s the point. It will be painful at first, but then you would feel so much better. Think of the relief you would feel after.”
Ilya seemed to contemplate this, even as continued to look unwell. “I guess…”
"Just think about it, okay? You already looked into it and I've done research, and I assume you have, too. We can talk a little bit more about the different options-"
"Please, no, I already know the different types. I do not want to talk about it. I already know I will not like it. It is not good idea. I am saying no," Ilya interrupted, sounding resolute and clearly deciding this conversation was over.
Shane sighed, saddened that Ilya was, once again, shutting him down. Every time he felt like he was finally getting Ilya to open up, he would slam the door in his face. In the past, Shane would have accepted that and moved on, but he simply couldn’t anymore. It was tearing him apart knowing Ilya was suffering, and that Shane usually wasn't even around to help. At least if there was a professional, Shane could rest assured that Ilya had some support, even when Shane had to be away. Otherwise, Shane wasn't sure how much longer he could cope. He was at his wit's end. If Ilya wasn't willing to accept his help, he needed Ilya to at least accept some help.
"Please, baby, can you at least think about it?" Shane paused, unsure if he should continue. He hated ignoring the boundaries Ilya was clearly trying to set, but those boundaries were destroying them. Shane didn't want to come across as manipulative and knew it needed to be Ilya's choice if he decided to pursue therapy. But he thought about how sad Ilya had seemed lately, no matter how hard he tried to hide it, and the strain it had put on their relationship, loathe as Shane was to admit it. He didn't want to make Ilya's depression about him, but it was hurting him, too. Geographically, they now lived closer to each other than ever before, and yet Shane still often felt like Ilya may as well have moved back to Russia for how distant he seemed. Every day, Shane felt like the easy love and joy they shared, from that first time they visited the cottage together, was fading away, and he feared if they didn't do anything, they risked losing it all together. Shane refused to let that happen. Even if Ilya didn't think he needed help, Shane needed Ilya to get help. He took a deep breath before continuing, "It's your choice, of course. I would never try to force you to do something you weren't comfortable with. But I think we both know things have been difficult lately. I know because I have been feeling it, too. You've been distant. And you refuse to be vulnerable. And at this point, it's affecting our relationship. I feel like I am not as close to you as I want to be. Like you won't let me be close to you. But I think this could really help."
"Oh… I did not know you were feeling like this," Ilya hesitated, looking downtrodden, before continuing. "This is really what you think will help?"
"I do," Shane hoped the surety in his voice would ease some of Ilya's skepticism. "I think this could really make things better. I think it will be a good release for you and I think it could make our relationship stronger than ever. We're both in this for the long game, yeah? Won't the pain be worth it if it gets us closer to our happy ending?" He grabbed Ilya's hand and squeezed. "Please, baby. It would mean a lot to me if you would be willing to at least think about it. If not for you, then for me."
Ilya stared back at Shane as if he had just suggested trying ritual sacrifice as a solution to their relationship woes, but he still asked, "This is really that important to you?"
"Of course it is," Shane responded. How could Ilya not understand that there was nothing more important to him than Ilya's health and happiness? Did Shane really do such a poor job of being a supportive boyfriend that Ilya was thrown by Shane wanting him to treat his mental health, or had Ilya's depression consumed him so completely, he could no longer believe Shane truly loved him? Whatever the issue, CBT had to help. Shane was sure of it.
Ilya shook his head in disbelief, before his shoulders dropped and he slowly started to nod. "I- okay. I will think about it. But no promises. And no more talking about it today, yes?"
"Of course!" Shane responded, simply elated that he had got through to Ilya and he was at least considering it. "Take all the time you need."
~~~
It turned out all the time Ilya needed was only 15 hours. Shane had slept in until 9:00am, far later than usual (courtesy of the three orgasms the night before), and was surprised to find the other side of the bed cold. Shane almost always got up before Ilya, on the rare days they got to spend the night together. He brushed his teeth, took a quick shower, and got dressed before he headed to the kitchen to make his morning smoothie. He found Ilya sitting on the couch, staring at an empty tv screen while holding a mug of coffee that looked like it had long gone cold.
"Good morning," Shane leaned over to give Ilya a peck on his temple on his way to the fridge. He started pulling out supplies for his smoothie. "Have you been up long?"
"Yes. Could not sleep."
Shane quickly abandoned his ingredients on the kitchen counter to come sit next to Ilya on the couch and was dismayed to see prominent bags under Ilya's eyes. Usually they both slept better than ever when they got to fall asleep in each other's arms. "Oh. Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"I was thinking too much. About our talk."
Shane frowned, rubbing a comforting hand across Ilya's back, and tried to tell himself he was imagining the way Ilya tensed at his touch. "Oh. I know I told you to think about it, but it wasn't something I wanted you to stress over. I'm sorry. I don't want you upset during our short time together."
Ilya shook his head. "Is okay. I am glad you told me. I did not know you were having these feelings and I want to make things better," he paused, "Unless you changed your mind last night? We can always just do more of that," Ilya asked with a hopeful look.
Shane lightly snorted. He knew Ilya liked to distract him from serious topics with pleasure, but it wasn't going to work this time. "Our sex is good, but not that good," Shane said, although he could understand where Ilya was coming from. Shane also sometimes felt like all problems ceased to exist when he had sex with Ilya, but he was pretty certain good sex wasn't enough to cure mental illness.
Ilya looked oddly hurt, by Shane's response—as if he really had thought he could fuck Shane well enough that Shane would stop worrying about his mental health (which, given their track record, maybe wasn't as far-fetched as it should have been)—before he quickly steeled himself, putting on a brave face. "Okay, then I will try," Ilya gulped, looking like a man being walked to the guillotine, "CBT."
"Really, baby?" Shane broke out into a grin. "Oh I am so happy to hear that!" He climbed onto Ilya's lap and planted a loud kiss on his lips, then buried his face into the crook of Ilya's neck. He inexplicably felt his eyes welling up with tears, so relieved at the prospect of Ilya getting help. He just wanted him to be happy. "Thank you for giving this a chance."
"Yes, yes, I am very best boyfriend in the whole wide world," Ilya's voice sounded shaky, and Shane felt guilty that Ilya was so clearly nervous at this prospect. He would have told Ilya to forget about it if it wasn't so important. He just wanted Ilya to be happy and healthy, so they could be happy and healthy together. And this was the best way he could think of to accomplish that.
Ilya lifted Shane off his lap and shifted him so he was seated on the couch cushion next to him, evidently not in the mood for cuddling. "Now I will go get the stuff I bought so we can talk about options. I did not think it would be for me when I bought it, but is all the same, I guess."
Shane wondered what "stuff" Ilya was talking about while he waited. Maybe some psychology books about CBT? Or pamphlets from different therapists? It seemed out of character for Ilya, who would usually rely on the trusty internet, but Shane was glad Ilya was taking this so seriously, even if he originally got the materials thinking they were for Shane (which warmed his heart in its own way).
Ilya returned a couple minutes later and plopped back onto the couch. He set some objects onto the coffee table with a loud clang. Shane looked at the items in confusion, which were definitely not books or pamphlets. He had no idea what he was looking at. There was a set of metal rods of varying sizes, some sort of ring with spikes on the inside, something that looked like a curved cage, and another item that appeared to be two pieces of wood connected with screws.
Shane blinked. Once, twice, three times. He still had no idea what he was looking at or how it could possibly connect to cognitive behavioral therapy. "Uh, what the fuck am I looking at?"
Ilya looked at him as if he was the strange one. "These are the options. You did not see these while researching?"
"Um, no?"
"Maybe you are not as good at research as I thought, Hollander. Lucky for you, I took my homework seriously, and I ordered all the best fancy contraptions." Shane's lips quirked. He wanted to ask where Ilya learned that word, but before he could, Ilya lifted up the metal ring with spikes and said, "This is simplest. Obviously, you put this on your penis."
Shane gasped. That was not obvious. "What the fuck? Why would you want to put that on your dick?"
Ilya huffed out an annoyed laugh. "I am not the one who wants to put it on my dick. You are the one wants to put it on my dick. And since you have done so much for my dick, my dick is willing to do this for you. Even though it will probably be terrible."
Shane wondered if he was being pranked right now. Was this a joke to Ilya? Some way of getting back at Shane for daring to care about Ilya's mental health? "What are you talking about?"
Ilya lifted an eyebrow. "This is torture device. Like you wanted?"
Shane was enraged. So this was a joke. Was Ilya really acting like Shane was asking to torture Ilya just because he suggested therapy? "Grow the fuck up, Ilya. This isn't funny. I am so sorry for caring about your well-being. I must be an evil masochist for wanting you to get help. Jesus Christ."
Ilya had the audacity to look indignant. "What?!" He squawked. "You are the one who suggested CBT! I did not want this! I said no but you said it was important for our relationship so I say okay!"
"I just wanted you to get some therapy, for fuck's sake, I thought it would help. I wasn't trying to fucking torture you!"
"Yes you were! Why are you acting like I am crazy? You wanted to try cock and ball torture!"
"What the fuck are you talking about?"
"CBT! Cock and ball torture!" Ilya shouted, and Shane wondered for a moment if his boyfriend had actually gone off the deep end. "You have been begging me to try, talking about how important it is! Why are you mad at me now that I agreed? I said okay, I will try! Even though I do not want you to crush my balls, I will do this for you."
"Ilya, what the fuck? CBT stands for cognitive behavioral therapy."
Ilya shook his head. "No way. Nobody uses CBT that way. There is no way there is type of therapy with same name as type of porn. If that is what you meant, you used wrong name."
"Ilya," Shane said slowly, "I need you to look up CBT right now. Not on pornhub or a sex toy site, on google. And tell me what comes up." Ilya muttered something under his breath that sounded like "you just want me to look at more dicks being stepped on" but complied nonetheless. After a moment, he slowly looked up. "Uh…"
Shane raised an eyebrow. "Well, what does the internet say CBT stands for?"
Ilya looked bashful. "Okey, so maybe CBT has multiple meanings…"
"You are so lucky I love you too much to strangle you. I can't believe you, Ilya! You really thought that I was trying to pressure you into trying—what is it? Cock and ball torture?"
"Well I was confused but you kept insisting!"
Shane noticed that even visibly embarrassed, Ilya looked the most relaxed he had since their conversation the day before. He must have really been dreading the prospect of trying it out. "Why did you even agree if you were so opposed? You obviously hate the idea."
Ilya shrugged. "You said there was problems with our relationship and this would help. I thought maybe you were… unsatisfied. And you seemed very sure this is what would make things better."
Shane scoffed. "What about the three orgasms I had last night made you think I am unsatisfied with our sex life?"
Ilya shrugged again. "Well, you are very greedy."
Shane guffawed and shoved Ilya's shoulder. "Fuck off!" Shane leaned over, suddenly serious, and grabbed Ilya by the jaw to make him maintain eye contact, which Ilya had been strictly avoiding since realizing how massively wrong he had been. "Ilya, I need you to promise that if I ever tell you that you need to let me crush your balls to improve our relationship, you will tell me to fuck off." They stared into each other's eyes for a few moments before Ilya's lip twitched and then they were breaking into laughter. Every time one of them would start to calm down, they would look at each other and start howling with laughter again.
Eventually, they calmed down, and Ilya smirked. "I should have known you love my dick to ever want to hurt him."
"Yeah, you should have." As much as Shane wanted to deny it, he really did love Ilya's dick too much to ever risk harming it. He looked at the metal cage on the table, which he now realized must be a cock cage, with disdain. "If your dick is going to be inside anything, it should be inside me."
"Oh that can certainly be arranged." Ilya pounced onto Shane with a wide grin and began mouthing at his neck while he slipped his hand under Shane's boxers.
"Wait!" Shane shoved Ilya off, making Ilya pout. "We still need to talk about CBT—therapy, I mean. I seriously think it could be good for you. I found a lot of great options for therapists, and I narrowed it down to a top five. I even found one who speaks Russian-" Ilya cut Shane off with an exaggerated groan. "Don't be so boring, Shanya. We do not need to talk about that. Wouldn't you rather reward my cock and balls for their noble sacrifice?"
"Oh my god, nothing even happened, don't be so dramatic. Also stop trying to distract me! This is important, Ilya. I know you have been struggling and I really think this could help. I have done a lot of research and I was serious about this being important for our relationship."
Ilya rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Shane, but there is no reason to talk about it." Shane opened his mouth, ready to argue, immediately infuriated that Ilya was shutting him down so quickly. This was the reaction Shane had initially expected when he brought up CBT, but that didn't help with his frustration, especially since, up until a few minutes ago, he had thought they had already discussed this and come to an agreement. Before he could interrupt, though, Ilya plowed on. "Because I am already in therapy."
Shane was left gaping. Now he was the one completely blindsided. "I'm sorry, what?"
"Yes. Is no big deal. I have been seeing therapist for a couple of months now. She speaks Russian. It is hard but I think it helps," Ilya smiled as he seemed to realize something. "So I had idea for therapy before you. As usual, I am first and you are second."
"You are such a fucking asshole," Shane laughed, but he was overjoyed. He nudged Ilya until Ilya raised his head so Shane could look into his eyes. "I'm really proud of you, Ilya. I have been worried about you and it is such a relief to know you are getting help. I wish you had felt comfortable telling me you were already in therapy, especially since it would have saved us both a lot of anxiety, but I know that can be difficult. Mostly, I'm really glad you are getting help. I just want you to be happy. You know that, right?"
Ilya looked more hesitant than Shane would have liked, but he still nodded. "Of course, solnyshko. It is hard to remember, some days, when my mind is not so nice. Or when you are saying you want to torture my cock and balls," Shane rolled his eyes, "But yes. I know. It is all I want, too. Is for you to be happy. So much that I would even let you crush my balls."
"Or go to therapy?"
"Or go to therapy."
They spent the rest of the day making each other very, very happy. No torture (or therapy) involved.