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Monsters were supposed to be terrifying.
That was what Shane had been taught– monsters were evil, dark, dangerous things that needed to be snuffed out the second they appeared. His parents had left his mattress firmly on the floor to prevent a monster under his bed, and his closet had no door for a closet monster to hide behind. He wasn’t allowed in the sea for fear of sea monsters, or the forest for fear of monsters hiding amongst the trees.
The only place he had really been allowed was the hockey rink. There were no hockey monsters, after all.
Shane had friends that were raised less strictly, so he knew not everyone was as paranoid as his parents were. As he got older he thought maybe it had to do with him being an only child. When he went away for hockey camp he had to sleep with a mattress on the floor while the rest of the kids got bunks.
When he became a Metro, though, and moved away–
Shane bought a bedframe.
It was a silly act of rebellion, really. Adults hardly ever got monsters under their beds. Still, Shane felt triumphant as he looked at his nice, raised mattress.
Admittedly, he was a bit nervous as he settled down for his first night of sleep. In the end, though, it was like any other night. He didn’t wake to growling, or the creaking of his floors, or his windows mysteriously opening.
He did, however, wake to the sound of humming from his kitchen.
Shane felt frozen in his too-high bed, some animal instinct holding him in place. There was someone in his kitchen. There was something in his kitchen.
He curled up tighter, caught up in a childish urge to pull the blanket over his head but knowing there was no point. Eventually, he would have to get up and go to investigate. Even if he knew the number for the local monster control, he had left his phone to charge in the kitchen and had no way to call for them.
Most monsters weren’t actually dangerous; they were just scarier pests for the most part. There were some that could kill, though, and Shane had never heard of a monster that hummed. He wasn’t sure how dangerous it could be.
Carefully, he slipped out of his bed. The distance between him and the floor felt endless, but eventually his feet hit it with a soft thump. He started towards his bedroom door slowly, hoping his apartment was new enough to not have creaky floorboards yet. Shane wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do when he got to the kitchen, but he knew he had to do something.
He raised his fists at the last second as he rounded the final corner, preparing himself to fight if necessary.
In his kitchen stood… what looked like a man.
He didn’t look like the monsters Shane had always heard about: he had no horns or tail, his skin wasn’t speckled with scales or fur, and his fingers didn’t sharpen into claws at the ends. He was wearing worn sweatpants with bare feet sticking out the bottom and mixing jam into a mug of tea on the counter.
He was possibly the least intimidating thing that Shane had ever seen.
The monster looked up when Shane leaned against the doorframe, his eyes growing wide. They stared at each other for what felt like hours, but Shane was sure it was only a minute or two. Unable to take the silence any longer, he cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Uh… hi.”
The monster’s face cleared immediately, his mouth curling up into a grin and his eyes narrowing into pleased crescents. His canine teeth stuck through his grin just a bit. They were slightly longer and sharper looking than a human’s, but they weren’t very intimidating. If anything, it made him look like a cat.
Oh, Shane thought faintly, he’s cute.
He banished the thought immediately, flushing deeply. That was ridiculous. Monsters weren’t cute, they were– dangerous, and bad, and–
“Hi.”
The monster’s voice had a teasing lilt to it, but it didn’t feel mean. It felt familiar. Shane didn’t know what to do next, and he could feel himself beginning to go down an anxious spiral. It didn’t matter how normal the thing looked, there was a monster in his house. Shane took in a few shaky breaths as he tried to steady himself, his eyes sliding away from the monster before snapping back to him. As much as he wanted to center himself in the room, he couldn’t risk looking away from the monster.
“Are you… okay?” The monster almost sounded concerned. Shane let out a delirious huff of laughter at the thought.
“There’s a monster in my house,” he replied, “no, I’m not ‘okay’.”
The monster had the audacity to look hurt by that, a frown creasing his face. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said, rolling his eyes like he was stating the obvious. “Besides, I lived here first.”
“The realtor should’ve mentioned that,” Shane grumbled, eyeing the monster cautiously. “How long have you lived here?”
“The realtor doesn’t know.” The monster snorted as he spoke, leaning his hip casually against the kitchen counter. “I don’t show myself to random people.”
Despite himself, Shane blushed. “Am I not random?”
A smirk crept onto the monster’s face, exposing one of his fangs. Shane felt like he couldn’t look away from it, the fear in his stomach swirling with a strange attraction. I don’t find this monster hot, he thought to himself furiously, that would be fucking insane.
“No, you are not random. You are pretty.”
What the fuck.
“I’m– what?” Shane shook his head, feeling like an idiot all of a sudden. “I’m dreaming, aren’t I? This is some weird, first-night-in-new-house anxiety dream.”
The monster’s smirk only grew. “I am the man of your dreams, then?”
“You aren’t a man,” Shane shot back.
Gasping dramatically, the monster clutched at his chest through his thin t-shirt. It made fabric pull along his shoulders, and Shane dragged his gaze away from them with some effort.
“You wound me,” he teased. His tongue poked out just a bit, the muscle of it indenting around his canines. “Maybe we started off wrong,” he continued, strutting towards Shane with a hand extended. “Hello. It is nice to meet you. My name is Ilya.”
Shane frowned, staring at the monster’s– at Ilya’s– hand.
“And your name?”
As much as he wanted to just go back to bed and pretend none of this was happening, some deeply rooted Canadian politeness had Shane taking Ilya’s hand and shaking it. “Shane. Shane Hollander.”
Ilya’s eyes gleamed, a soft sound not unlike a purr coming from him. His hand was warm and soft where it gripped Shane’s. It was so nice that Shane didn’t even realize that they had definitely been holding hands longer than a handshake necessitated.
“It is nice to meet you, Shane Hollander.” Ilya’s voice curling around his name sent a shiver down Shane’s spine. He unconsciously squeezed Ilya’s hand tighter, searching for some sense of stability.
He had never felt like this before. Hockey had consumed his life for as long as he could remember; it was never safe to look at another man the way he couldn’t stop looking at Ilya.
Suddenly suspicious, Shane took his hand back and narrowed his eyes at Ilya.
“What are you? Are you… are you messing with my mind?”
Ilya frowned again, that same flare of hurt from earlier back in his eyes. “I am Ilya. And I haven’t done anything to your mind.” He tilted his head, assessing Shane. Whatever he found had his face smoothing out into smug satisfaction. “You find me attractive, yes? That is not some evil trick. It is just a fact.”
“I–”
“Is okay, don’t need to try to deny it. I find you attractive too, remember? You are very pretty, Shane Hollander.”
Fuck. “I don’t– I don’t know–”
“You are panicking.”
“Fucking yes I’m panicking, there’s a hot monster in my fucking kitchen–”
“So you do think I’m hot!”
Shane groaned, turning so he could put his forehead against the doorframe. The cool wood didn’t help to steady him, but at least he wasn’t looking at Ilya anymore.
“Okay, okay. I am freaking you out; I’m sorry. I can go.”
As much as he wanted this whole day to just be over and never come up again, the idea of Ilya leaving left Shane with a bad taste in his mouth. He turned away from the doorframe quickly, ready to protest, but–
Ilya was already gone.
***
Shane spent the next few days in a haze.
He had started training camp with the Metros, but for once hockey wasn’t providing the all-consuming distraction it usually did. He was focused on the ice, of course, but once he was home…
He had spent a lot of time staring at his kitchen counter and waiting for Ilya to reappear.
It was ridiculous. Ilya was a monster. But he was also sort of funny, and he had been kind to Shane beneath the teasing, and he was… really fucking hot, okay?
Humming from the living room distracted Shane from his thoughts. This time, with the added context from meeting Ilya before, Shane realized that the humming was more of a loud, rhythmic purr.
Without taking any time to second guess himself, Shane burst into the living room.
And there Ilya was: sprawled out on the couch. He was reclining, with his legs stretched across the cushions and one arm artfully draped along the back of it. He didn’t seem to be doing much of anything, and Shane wondered for a moment why he had returned.
“Ah! Finally, you are here!” Ilya sprung up as he spoke, bouncing on the balls of his feet.
“You’re the one that left,” Shane shot back. He could feel himself pouting a bit, but he didn’t bother to stop it. Ilya had left. Sure, at the time Shane was panicking and did kind of want him to leave, but in the days in between he was struck with a need to know more that couldn’t be satiated until he saw the man– monster– again.
“Do you want me to stay, then?” Ilya had stopped bouncing up and down like an over-excited puppy. Instead, he was leaning against the back of the couch with a sly grin, his fangs peaking down past his lips.
A soft laugh escaped Shane without his permission. He circled around to the couch, dropping onto one of the cushions and gesturing for Ilya to join him.
“I don’t know about that. I don’t even know you.”
“You can.” Ilya’s voice was a low purr, his eyes dangerous as he settled onto the couch beside Shane. He was too close– halfway on Shane’s cushion, pressed against him from shoulder to thigh.
Maybe monsters were dangerous. Just not in the way Shane had been taught.
“Okay,” Shane said slowly, allowing his shoulder to press further into Ilya’s. “My name is Shane. I play hockey for the Metros.”
Ilya grinned, his teeth on full display. “My name is Ilya. I live in your house.”
Shocked laughter rang out as Shane shook his head in disbelief. “I noticed that part. What do you do, though?”
“Do?”
“Yeah, like– I know you don’t have a job or anything, but what do you do when you’re not around?”
Humming, Ilya tipped his head from side to side while he thought. “Not much. Is a boring life, honestly. You are the most exciting thing to happen to me in years.”
Shane rolled his eyes. “I find that hard to believe. Everyone always says I’m boring.”
“You’re too pretty to be boring,” Ilya said, his voice heavy with honesty.
That had Shane blushing again. He was starting to wonder if Ilya’s most monstrous talent was flustering him. Speaking of–
“What kind of monster are you, anyway?”
For a moment Shane thought their easy banter would continue, thought Ilya would keep flirting with him. Instead, Ilya shot him yet another hurt look and promptly disappeared.
Fuck.
“Ilya? Ilya, come back!” Shane called out. He stood and spun around, scanning the room as if he would have disappeared just to reappear in one of the corners of the room. “I’m sorry!”
“Really?”
Shane yelped, all the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as Ilya appeared right in front of him. They were close enough for him to feel Ilya’s breath on his face, which was not something he needed to be focussing on right then.
“Yes, really– I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. It’s– rude, maybe?”
Rolling his eyes, Ilya resettled on the couch. Shane only missed his proximity a little bit.
“Yes, is rude. Imagine I come up to you and say ‘oh, Shane Hollander, you seem like a nice enough guy but before I can decide I must know what kind of monster you are!’”
Ashamed, Shane reached out and tugged Ilya back onto the couch with him. There was a bit of space between them this time, Ilya clearly not comfortable being in his space the way he had been before.
“I’m sorry,” he said softly, “I’ve just never met a– I mean–”
Thankfully, Ilya was kind enough to cut off his embarrassing stumbling. “Relax, Shane. I am teasing you. Mostly.”
Shane smiled tentatively at him. He shifted slightly closer to Ilya, missing the warmth of him along his side even as his mind still screamed at him to be wary.
“So,” he said eventually, tipping his head onto the back of the couch so he could gaze up at Ilya, “Your name is Ilya. You live in my house.”
“Yes.”
“What else? What happens when you disappear?”
Fingers grazed the back of Shane’s neck. “I don’t disappear, I just go where you can’t see me.”
Shane’s breath caught in his throat, his world narrowing to where Ilya was touching him. “Where is that?”
Instead of answering, Ilya disappeared again.
“What– you asshole!”
There was rustling in a corner of the room followed by a quiet laugh. Shane whirled around ready to complain at Ilya, only to find that he wasn’t there. He frowned, narrowing his eyes at the corner. There wasn’t anything there, really. It was sort of off to the side, hidden beside a console table covered in hockey books. He had been thinking about moving things around actually, because it just left the corner in shadow–
A flash of light caught his eye.
Something was in the shadow.
Ilya was in the shadow.
“What the fuck?”
Ilya reappeared with a grin. He spread his arms wide and bowed as if he were finishing a performance on stage, and Shane found himself playing along by clapping for him.
“So you just go into the shadows?”
“Yes,” Ilya said, plopping back down onto the couch. “They are very comfortable.”
Huh.
“So when you disappeared for a few days…”
“I was under the fridge.”
“You were under the fridge?!”
Ilya raised an eyebrow, staring up at Shane from where he was tucked against the arm of the couch. “Is that really weirder than everything else you have heard about ‘monsters’?”
“Huh.” Shane dropped onto the couch, slotting himself neatly into Ilya’s side. “I guess not.”
“Is it weirder than you being attracted to a ‘monster’?”
Shane shot back upright, sputtering like an idiot. “I am not– Attracted? No! I–”
“Jesus, Hollander,” Ilya cut in, smirking at him. “It’s okay; you can admit it. I am attracted to you, too, remember?”
“I don’t even like guys!” Shane shouted, his stomach twisting like it always did when he lied. But it wasn’t a lie– it couldn’t be a lie.
“I don’t think that is true.”
Shane shook his head, fixing his gaze on the wall behind Ilya’s head. “I’m sorry, I know I’m being weird but I really just cannot deal with a sexuality crisis and a– a you in my house at the same time.”
“I think you can,” Ilya argued, standing to meet him. “I think you are just scared to. But you don’t need to be scared, Shane.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Shane said weakly. He took a shaky step back as Ilya stepped forward, his heart racing in his chest at the proximity. Ilya’s eyes shined in the late-afternoon light coming through the windows, and for a moment Shane wasn’t sure why he would ever hide in the shadows when this was what he looked like in the light.
“Don’t I?”
The wall was cold against Shane’s back when he finally reached it. Ilya took one final step forward, until their noses were practically brushing.
“You aren’t scared of me,” Ilya murmured, his eyes darting around Shane’s face. “Right?”
“No,” Shane breathed, shocking himself with how true it was. Ilya was a ‘monster’, sure, but he was also silly and handsome and nice to Shane in a way that didn’t feel condescending like it did sometimes coming from other people.
“So what are you scared of?”
Everything. Nothing.
“I don’t know.”
Ilya grinned, his upper lip curling up to reveal his fangs.
Why the fuck is that cute, Shane thought deliriously, he looks like a kitten.
“Can I kiss you?” Shane didn’t even realize what he was going to say until the words were out of his mouth, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it as Ilya slowly leaned in.
“You are sure?”
Suddenly unable to stand denying himself this any longer, Shane lunged forward and smashed his lips against Ilya’s. He brought his hands up to cup Ilya’s face, gripping his jaw tightly. The kiss was bruising and intense, their teeth clacking in the middle. Shane could feel the sharp edge of Ilya’s fangs and he wanted it.
Ilya didn’t let it last for long that way, though. He pushed at Shane’s shoulders until Shane was pressed against the wall again. Shane tried to lean back in, but Ilya held him in place as he gentled the kiss until their lips were just barely brushing together before pulling away entirely.
Breathing heavily, Shane opened his eyes to find Ilya already looking at him with open adoration.
“Do you mind if I stay this time? Instead of disappearing?”
“Please,” Shane whispered, his hands drifting to clutch at Ilya’s shirt. “Please stay.”