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They sit together on the bed afterwards—distinctly not touching, not even a little bit. And not in the way that people delude themselves into thinking only touching a little is the same as not touching.
Shane kind of wishes that they were touching, even just a little bit and telling themselves that they weren’t really touching. It’d be enough to keep him grounded here, especially since he feels at risk of floating away. It’s not that he doesn’t have fun with Ilya and he wasn’t forced into anything tonight, but normally when they do this things aren’t so…tense afterwards. Not immediately anyway.
– – –
Ilya knows that he’s deliberately left several inches between himself and Shane. It’s easier this way—to not let himself get confused into thinking that this is something that he can have. He sits quietly stewing in his own thoughts about everything he’s going to have to deal with this summer in Russia: his stupid brother, his stupid father, stupid Polina, and the absence of much else to provide some sense of normalcy. He wishes he could just not go, but he knew that this would not go over well with his family.
But he’s not there yet.
He’s here in this hotel room in Vegas with Shane.
Shane, who hasn’t moved or spoken since Ilya handed him a glass of vodka.
Shane shivers, just barely, but it’s enough for Ilya to notice. That’s when he starts to notice the other subtle things that are just slightly off about Shane: the slightly glassy look in his eyes with unshed tears, the way he’s rubbing his thumb against his wrist, the way that every exhale he takes sounds quieter yet trembles at the end. ЕбатьFuck.
“Hollander?” Ilya says quietly, turning his head just enough to look at Shane.
His voice shakes as he tells Ilya, “I guess…I guess I should go…”
Ilya tries again. “Hollander. Wait, just—stay here. I’m—черт побериdamn it.”
Ilya scooches closer to Shane when Shane says, “Rozanov, it’s—I’m—erm…”
Ilya shakes his head. “Shane.” Now that gets Shane’s attention a little more, except now there’s a lone tear rolling down his face that he tries to quickly wipe away. “Дорогой, eбатьSweetheart, fuck. Has this…feeling ever happened to you before?”
Shane opens his mouth once before closing it and shaking his head instead. Ilya nods softly. “Am sorry, зайчикbunny, this is my fault.”
Shane turns his head away from Ilya, and Ilya feels something crumbling inside of him. No. No, he’s not letting Shane hide from this.
“Shane. Look at me please?”
Shane turns his head back slowly towards Ilya, and he still doesn’t really seem to be there. Ilya asks, “Can I touch you, дорогойsweetheart? Please? I think it will help.”
More tears start to stream down Shane’s face, but mercifully he nods and immediately, Ilya pulls him in and lays them down. He wraps his arm around Shane and gently adjusts so that Shane can lay his head on Ilya’s chest. Shane doesn’t say anything, but he also isn’t trying to leave which Ilya supposes is good. He’s still not totally certain about what’s happening, but he can feel Shane’s breathing start to deepen and the tremble slowly fades.
In the tiniest voice, Shane mumbles, “Mmm, Ilya,” in such a way that it sounds like Shane tried his best to learn how his name actually sounds. Not the anglicized version that the media always uses, but the way that Ilya would have heard it said back when Moscow still felt like home to him.
Ilya whispers, not wanting to break whatever spell they’re under right now, “Hi Shane. You are okay here. Am sorry.”
Shane practically nuzzles into the junction between Ilya’s neck and shoulder, the tip of his nose slightly chilled as it presses into the hard muscles of his neck. Ilya tightens his grip on Shane and uses his other hand to pull the blankets around them. Once he feels that they’re as tucked in as they can be right now, Ilya starts moving his hands around Shane’s body to soothe him. He pushes his way into Shane’s soft black hair, rubs his arms, presses little tiny kisses to the crown of Shane’s head, kisses on each of his cheeks, and just tries to keep Shane as plastered to his body as he can to keep warming him up. He doesn’t kiss Shane on the lips because he’s not sure that Shane would honestly want him to right now.
Sometime in these little moments, Shane falls asleep, his breathing deep and even against the side of Ilya’s body and his temperature finally having risen.
Ilya knows that normally they would never fall asleep after their hookups. They were supposed to meet up, have sex, make a minute or two of small talk, and then make their quiet exit from the other person’s place. But Ilya isn’t willing to intervene here. He already had wanted to ask Shane to just stay with him a little longer anyway tonight; he wanted to just let himself have the one thing he knows he’s not supposed to want before he has to go back to Russia for the summer.
So, Ilya lets Shane sleep, quietly combing one of his sets of fingers through Shane’s hair and down his cheek. He uses the other hand to scroll on his phone, trying to figure out what just happened. He types what he noticed about Shane into an incognito tab and learns a new term: subdrop. It sounds remarkably familiar. He keeps reading and learning that he could have helped make the subdrop not as bad by providing intentional aftercare. That’s why the physical touch helped. Maybe that’s why Ilya’s never seen it before. They’ve always had some kind of physical touch afterwards, but this time, Ilya deliberately tried to keep that space between them. ЕбатьFuck. He didn’t mean to. He really didn’t want to mess this up. He didn’t want to hurt Shane. But he made the mistake, and now, he was going to put the choice in Shane’s hands. If Shane doesn’t want this anymore, then Ilya will leave him be, even if it cracks something inside of him. He’ll handle it quietly and won’t make Shane feel guilty because of his actions.
– – –
Shane blinks his eyes open slowly into a dimly lit room. He feels warm and…safe. Suddenly, he looks up to find Ilya staring back at him. Shit.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to…I mean, did I fall asleep? Sorry about—”
“Shane. Is okay. I…I wanted you to stay anyway and then I wasn’t about to let you leave when you were clearly so…out of it.”
Oh. Right. Now that Shane thinks of it, his mind did feel kind of fuzzy. Wait, he wanted me to stay anyway?
“Roz—”
“Shane, are you feeling better now?”
Shane nods. Please don’t make me leave yet.
“I think you had something called subdrop,” Ilya says quietly, like he’s afraid to spook Shane.
“A subdrop?”
“Даyes, is, like a crash after really intense, or really kinky sex? I was just reading about it because…ah…”
“Ilya? Because?”
Ilya exhales and his words sound shaky as he explains, “Because I did not know what happened and it scared me. But I understand better now. I need to give you physical touch and say nice things to you, not just leave you alone.”
Shane suddenly felt it. Ilya was taking a chance and trying to be brave and actually owning up to the mistakes he made. Maybe it’s Shane’s turn to be a little brave.
“You didn’t kiss me or touch me, like, at all, before or during or…or initially after. Why not Ilya? Do I not…appeal to you like that?” When I’m being vulnerable for you? When I do something I don’t know how to do just because you wanted me to? When I just want you?
“Блядь, нетFuck, no. No, Shane,” Ilya says, emphasizing Shane’s name. Shane slides his body up in the bed more to rest his head on the pillow next to Ilya. Ilya reaches out and slides one thumb so tenderly across his cheek. Shane leans in ever so slightly to the touch, and suddenly Ilya pulls him close and kisses him so softly he’s almost not even sure it happened. The only sign it did is the little sigh that Ilya seemingly unconsciously lets out. “You always appeal to me. I was just…” Ilya takes a sharp inhale and a shaky exhale. “I have to go back to Russia, and is complicated there. And I want you, but I can’t have you in the ways I want to, so I thought it was better if I created space so that I didn’t forget that. But I shouldn’t have. That was my fault, am sorry. If you decide that you do not want to see me anymore, I’d—I’d understand.”
“Ilya,” Shane whispers, pressing a slightly harder kiss against Ilya’s lips. He’s still confused about when they started using each other’s first names, but Ilya’s being so vulnerable with him too, so he lets it be and finds that he kind of enjoys it. “I still want to see you, fuck, I want to keep seeing you however often I can. I just…I need you to not do that again, please. Don’t invite me over if you’re not going to touch me and kiss me, I just—that—I can’t do that again, please.”
“Shane, I promise, I’ll give you whatever you need, and I won’t forgo aftercare again. That was bad.”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
The two of them lay there together in silence for what couldn't have been more than a few minutes, but every so often they’ll take turns pressing little kisses across each others’ skins. It’s nice, Shane could get used to this.
– – –
“Do you feel it too?” Shane asks quietly as he lays next to Ilya, Shane’s head pressed against his shoulder.
Ilya sighs quietly. “Yes, I do, but we can’t do anything about it. It’s too dangerous.”
“For our careers? For our reputations?”
“Даyes, and for me having to go to Russia every summer.”
“Oh.”
Ilya inhales and exhales slowly, trying to stay calm. He’s still scared that this will get to be too much for Shane, that Shane will decide that Ilya is too difficult and that suddenly Ilya will find himself alone in the hotel room. He doesn’t want that.
“What if we just admitted it between us?" We keep meeting in secret and text each other under the fake names, but maybe we change the rules of this together?”
Ilya pauses to think about the idea. There’s really not too much harm in doing that, right?
Shane speaks up again, “Maybe if we talk about it and just…work it out together, I won’t try to run and we won’t take it too far? We can keep ourselves safe?”
Ilya nods. “Okay.”
Shane says, “Okay. Well, I’d like it if we can kiss and touch during and after…whatever it is we do. I like kissing you before too, but if it’s like a…foreplay thing, then I don’t think it’s always necessary.”
“How about you tell me exactly what you want no matter what we’re doing? If you need to be kissed before, then I will,” Ilya offers. He wants the communication to be as clear as possible between them now.
Shane nods. “Okay, I like that idea. Your turn.”
“No skipping on aftercare in whatever way that looks like for what we do,” Ilya says matter of factly.
“That’s a good one, but what about something that you want from us?”
Ilya can feel his lip quiver ever so slightly. Shane was the one that got hurt by his stupidity, yet he’s asking what does Ilya want? Ilya almost can’t believe that he deserves someone like Shane.
Ilya feels the tear fall down his cheek seconds after he processes his tiny sniffle that he lets out trying to hide it. Shane shifts and props up on his elbow. “Ilya? Wh—what’s wrong?”
Ilya wraps his arms around Shane. His voice is thick when he whispers, “You’re too good for me.”
Shane pulls back slightly and makes eye contact with Ilya that’s so strong that Ilya feels like he might crack under the intensity. “No,” Shane reprimands sternly, but not unkindly. “You deserve all the good in the world. Ilya. Ilya. You’re a good person.”
Ilya nods and he knows Shane can tell he doesn't quite believe that. But Ilya quietly suggests, “When you are in Boston, I want you to spend the night with me at my home. Tell Pike whatever story, but I want to be able to fall asleep with you in my arms. I just want you to stay and not run out the door after we’re done.”
Shane smiles softly. “Only if when you’re in Montreal you come over to my place and spend the nights with me then too.”
Ilya couldn’t quite believe how much of him Shane wanted. He also couldn’t quite believe how much of himself he was willing to offer to Shane. It’s certainly more than he offers to anyone else.
“Okay,” Ilya agrees. “I like these rules.”
“I like these rules too,” Shane murmurs, his voice sounding thick with exhaustion against Ilya’s chest again.
“One more,” Ilya whispers quietly. “When it’s just the two of us? No more last names. I’m Ilya.”
“And I’m Shane,” Shane replies softly back as he presses a gentle kiss over Ilya’s heart on his bare chest. “Are you okay if I stay here tonight? I know we only said in Boston and Montreal but it’s Vegas and—”
“Shane.”
“Yes?”
“Of course, you can stay. I want you to stay. Please stay?”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
Ilya reaches out and clicks the light off, listening to the steady sounds of Shane and him breathing together, knowing that it’s finally safe to just stay.
– – –
“Goodnight Shane.” Я тебя люблюI love you.
“Goodnight Ilya.” Je t'aimeI love you.