Chapter Text
17th December 2016
Ilya doesn’t want to go out. He hated going out now. It was cold in his house, but Ilya couldn’t careless. He liked the cold. Snow fell outside his windows, the TV playing some trash on TLC, his Christmas tree in the corner of the room lighting up the living room slightly, giving it a warm glow.
He loved Christmas, but he couldn’t celebrate it like everyone else, he had to do it later because of his stupid Russian traditions. Yes he loved doing them, he liked to feel connected to his Russian heritage even though he lived in the states. But he wants to celebrate Christmas like everyone else. Like Shane.
He probably had stupid Christmas traditions he would do with his family. They probably all sit around a fire place with blankets and pyjamas, and they would eat stupid fucking cookies they baked earlier. But Shane wouldn’t eat many, his diet that was so fucking weird and wrong probably wouldn’t let him.
Ilya wondered if Shane had any family other than his parents. An uncle or aunt? Maybe some little cousins that look up to Shane. Maybe Shane would sit on the couch, watching a children’s Christmas movie with them. And maybe they are snuggled up next to him, one in his lap that fell asleep.
God Ilya hated him right now. Leaving him on his couch after jerking each other off. But Ilya liked him, too much. He didn’t really hate him, he is just lying to himself.
Even the nice vodka he bought to drink tonight tasted like shit. God he needed to get a fucking grip. Why was he like this?
Ilya dumps the bottle on the living room table, picking up the remote to change the channel to some sport. He scrolls and scrolls and scrolls until he finds a basketball game to watch. Chicago Bulls against The New York Knicks.
The Chicago Bulls score again at the same time his phone rings. Ilya picks up his phone, expecting to see someone from the Raiders begging for him to come out, he doesn’t expect Shane.
He watches it ring and then stop. What the actual fuck did he want? He was with Rose now. Shane didn’t care about him anymore. Nobody did. Nobody loved him.
Shane calls him again. Was Shane okay? Shane never called him. They never did this, and they certainly didn’t do it now. Ilya huffs as his picks up the phone.
“What do you want.”
“Why didn’t you pick up on the first time!” Shane cries. Was he fucking crying?
“We’re done, remember? You ended it.”
“I’m so fucking sorry.” Shane slurs.
“Ilya,” Ilya. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t mean it.” Shane cries harder. Was Shane drunk? Shane was drunk calling him. Out of all people?
“Where are you Shane? Ilya asks.
“‘m out. Alone.”
“Where is Rose? Or Pike?” He couldn’t be alone. Not when he was like this.
“Hayden is… gone. And so is Rose.” Shane sniffs.
“Are you far from your apartment Shane?”
Silence.
“Shane?”
“I shook my head.”
“Shane I can’t see if you shake or nod your head.” Ilya huffs.
“‘m sorryy” Shane starts to cry again.
“No don’t cry. It’s okay. We are okay aren’t we.”
“We are okay? We are better now?” Shane sniffs.
“Of course we are.” It hurt Ilya to say that. They weren’t okay right now. Shane was hurting, Ilya was hurting. They both were, but Shane had the nerve to say something. When he was drunk.
“I don’t do this.”
“Do what Shane?”
“Drink. I get saaad and anggryy at people. But that’s only when we aren’t talking. I don’t drink much in the season, but today I just needed oneee. Just one drink to help me forget about my feeling for you.” Ilya takes a deep breath, he couldn’t break down on Shane.
“Shane go home.” Ilya says.
“Will you be there?” Shane asks. Ilya can hear the hope in his voice.
“I won’t be Shane. I’m sorry. I’m in Boston, remember?”
“Oh yeah. Come to Montreal. Pleasee.” Ilya can hear shuffling on the other side of the phone.
“Are you going back to your apartment?” Ilya asks, trying to deflect.
“Yes. You.. you said so!” Shane exclaims.
“Ah. I did, do you have your keys?”
“Yesss.”
“Good.” It goes silent for a while, Ilya too scared to hang up. It’s broken by Shane crying again. “Hey, what’s the matter? Why the tears?”
“You hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.” Fuck, Shane must be really drunk.
“I’m an asshole. You deserve to hate me because I hate me.” Shane sobs.
“Can you tell me why? Tell me why Shane.” Why would Shane ever hate himself. Shane was the most gorgeous person Ilya had ever seen.
“Be-because I left you. All you said was my name a-an-and I freaked out like always and I always freak out over stupid stuff because I’m stupid. Fucking idiotic. I shouldn’t of left..” Shane continues to speak until it becomes incoherent mumbling.
“Oh Shane.”
“‘m walking to my home now. Will you be there?”
“I won’t be, I’m sorry Shane. I’m in Boston.”
“Come.”
“Shane I can’t.”
“You don’t have a game till the 20th. I know. I still keep looking at your schedule.”
Shane still cared. Shane still cared about Ilya.
“I’m home Ilya.”
“Okay, I’m happy.”
Ilya hears Shane step into his house and shut the door and kick off his shoes. “‘m tired. Will you be upstairs in bed?”
“No Shane. I won’t.”
“When.. when will you be back?” Shane’s voice breaks.
“Soon. Soon Shane I promise.” An empty promise, one that didn’t exist.
“‘m gon-gonna send you my address. Come.”
Ilya couldn’t go. Shane wouldn’t want him there. He would just throw him out onto the street. Ilya’s phone buzzes and he sees that Shane sent him his address. Ilya knew where he lived. He would never forget.
“Okkay I-i sent it. Will you be here in the mmorning?”
“Maybe. Maybe.” He really wanted to be there in the morning.
“‘m going to go to bed now. Bye bye Ilya.”
“Bye Shane.”
Before Ilya hangs up he can hear Shane mumbling about something. “What was that?”
“Will you be here? I want you here. Not Rose. I like Rose but not as much as I like you.”
“Goodnight Shane.”
Ilya hangs up and drags his hand down his face. He was royally fucked. He shouldn’t go. Shane was bad for him right now. But Ilya wants to go. He wants to be there when Shane wakes up. He wants to hold him when he cried.
Ilya forces himself to get up and go upstairs to his bedroom, finding the biggest backpack he owns he stuffing clothes in there. Then he puts toiletries and then some other essentials. Was he really going to do this? I was 10:30 at night, it would take him an hour to get to the airport and then probably another to get through everything else to get to the gate. It would probably be 1-2 am when he got on a flight to Montreal, if there was any. It was snowing a lot here, and that meant it was snowing more in Canada probably.
Ilya shuts off his tv and picks up his phone to message Cliff.
Cliff 💪
Yo bro, I need you to come to my house in the morning and check all my doors and windows and shut everything off. I have an emergency and I need to fly out now. I’ll be back on the 20th for the game against Toronto.
Ilya knows Cliff won’t answer till tomorrow. He was out with the rest of the Raiders. Ilya pockets his phone and goes to a draw and rummages through for his passport. He shoves it into his bag and goes to shove his shoes, coat and hat on. Ilya picks up his keys and sunglasses and heads out of his house to go and see Shane.
————————————————————————
Ilya taps his fingers on his steering wheel as he sits in the airport parking garage. He shouldn’t go. Shane wouldn’t want to see him. But then Shane also wanted to see him, he wanted him there. Fuck it.
Ilya gets out the car, grabbing his bag and making his way to the parking pay system. 4 days, just to be safe.
Ilya shoves on his sunglasses so he won’t be noticed and his Raiders beanie, nobody would look twice at someone with a Raiders hat on.
Ilya stops in front of the check in desk, “I need a ticket for your next flight to Montreal, Canada. I’ll pay whatever.”
“Unfortunately sir, our last flight for the next 3 hours has just left. I can maybe get you a flight to Ottawa or-“ the lady says.
“No I need one to Montreal.”
“Okay sir. Our next one is at 2 in the morning. There are possible delays because of the snow.”
“That’s fine. Thank you.” Ilya gets his passport and bank card.
“It will cost you, $286 dollars sir.”
“What?!” Ilya exclaims.
“You are buying a ticket directly, it has extremely high prices sir. If you have any fly miles it can take the price down.”
Ilya wonders. He was going to use his miles for his flight to Russia for Christmas. But this was more important.
“Fine. Look me up, Ilya Rozanov.” Ilya instructs the lady.
“Mr Rozanov! Wow I did not notice it was you!” The lady smiles as she looks him up. “You have enough miles for the price to be decreased down to $198.”
“That’s fine. Thank you.” Ilya hands her his bank card and passport. Ilya watches her pay for the ticket, check is passport, and then hand him his ticket.
“Have a nice trip Mr.Rozanov!”
“Ah, thank you.” He says while walking away and through to security.
————————————————————————
18th December 2016
It was 1:23am and boarding started in 7 minutes. His leg bounced repeatedly as Ilya kept checking his phone for any messages from Shane. None. He was probably asleep, he would be asleep for a while. Ilya can only hope that Shane actually made it home safe and made it to bed. He needed something to do. He can’t just sit here, worrying.
Ilya gets up and slings his backpack onto his shoulder, making his was to a Starbucks. He only had a few hours till he would see Shane. And possibly be thrown out, forgotten about.
“Welcome to Starbucks how may I help you today.” The boy grumbles.
“Iced latte please.” Ilya gets his card out.
“Name?”
“Simon.”
“Okay Simon that will be $4.44.”
Ilya pays and walks to the other side of the small Starbucks and waits for his coffee. Ilya pulls out his phone to see no new messages from Shane. Ilya huffs as he opens Shane’s contact and calls him.
Ilya anxiously taps his foot as he waits for Shane to pick up. “Hi this is Shane Hollander, I am unable to take your call at the moment. Leave a-.” Ilya hangs up and goes to message him.
Jane
9:52 pm
21 ****** Road
Plesse cime
1:27 am
I’m coming to Montreal, at the airport right now.
If you want to through me out, you can. But you asked me to come.
Ilya shuts off his phone as he hears his name called. “Thank you.” He mumbles as he goes back to his seat.
“Yooo, is that Ilya Rozanov?” A man says behind Ilya. He turns round and smiles at the man and his friend.
“Yes. It’s me.”
“No way, can I get a photo?” The man pulls out his phone.
“Of course.”
The man turns to the other man, “Hey babe, take the picture.” Babe. They both smile for the picture as his boyfriend, maybe?, takes the picture.
“Hey do you mind posting that in like a couple hours? That’s if you do.” Ilya nervously asks.
“Of course, you’re mine and my boyfriend’s favourite hockey player.”
“That’s nice to hear, thank you.”
“Our flight to Chicago is boarding soon, it was so great to meet you!” The man’s boyfriend says. They both turn and leave as Ilya smiles. They seemed happy. Really happy.
“Flight 024, gate 8 to Montreal, Quebec Canada is boarding now.” A woman over the intercom says.
Ilya makes his way to the gate entrance and hands his passport and ticket to the man at the desk. He checks them and then hands them back to Ilya.
“You are in seat 1A, Mr Rozanov. Have a great flight and hope you enjoy your time in Montreal.”
“Da.” Ilya says and he takes his stuff back and makes his way onto the plane.
————————————————————————
“Mr Rozanov?” A fight attendant says, pulling Ilya out of his sleep.
“Hm?”
“We’ve landed in Montreal, you can exit the aircraft.”
Ilya’s english was never good when he first woke up. But he understood Montreal. They must of arrived. Ilya nods as he unbuckles his seatbelt and grabs his back from the storage compartment above.
As he walks off the plane, he checks the time on his phone. 3:52am. Fuck he was so tired. Ilya changes the song he was listening to and checks to see if Shane had called or texted him, he hasn’t. He must be asleep, he needed it.
Ilya makes his way through the airport and finally reaches the exit. The air is cold and snow is coming down fast. He is surprised that the plane even landed in this weather.
Ila turns back inside and heads towards the car rental desk. “Hi I need a car. Any is fine.”
“Of course sir. I just need your passport and license.” The man says. Ilya opens his wallet and backpack and gets his passport and licence out. “Thank you Mr Rozanov. I just need you to come with me so you can sign a few papers.”
Ilya follows him into a small office and gets handed a pen and papers. “Just sign these please and I’ll be back with some keys.”
The questions were boring. How long were you staying here, where were you going, do you have insurance, can you pay for any damage that happens to the car. Ilya signs everything snd waits for him to come back.
Ilya opens his text messages with Shane to let him know he landed.
Jane
9:52 pm
21 ****** Road
Plesse cime
1:27 am
I’m coming to Montreal, at the airport right now.
If you want to through me out, you can. But you asked me to come.
4:12 am
I’m in Montreal. I’ll be at yours in 2 or 3 hours.
Ilya shoves his phone into his pocket and hears the door behind him open up. The man hands Ilya a set of keys that have a keychain with a number attached with a parking spot number. A Jeep. “Here you are Mr Rozanov. A Jeep is really good in weather like this.”
“Ah. Thank you. I signed it all, it should be good.” Ilya turns to leave. He glances at the keychain and smiles to himself.
Parking spot: 81
Car: 2008
It must be sign. Ilya didn’t believe in that shit, but this had to mean something.
Ilya wanders and wanders through the parking garage. He can’t fucking find spot 81. It was his number, he should know where it was! Ilya keeps walking through this parking garage, shivering his ass off.
Ilya fucking finally finds the car. A black Jeep, clean, basically brand new. He unlocks it and throws his backpack into the backseat, along with his sunglasses, hat and coat.
He turns on the car and pulls out of the parking garage, into the shovelled roads. He connects his phone to the stereo and plays his playlist.
He was so fucking nervous. Different scenarios run through his mind, all bad apart from one. He doesn’t know what Shane would do, hopefully invite him in.
Ilya wants to ask Shane if he was actually alright, he didn’t sound it on the phone. He sounded hurt, broken.
Ilya pulls off on the highway and searches on his phone for any stores that were open. Target, opens in half an hour. If Ilya can get there at opening then nobody will notice him. He puts in the address for Target and starts the car again. Ilya pulls back onto the highway and makes his way to Target.
————————————————————————
He got to Target 8 minutes before it opened. Ilya grabbed his phone and checked his messages to see if Shane had called or texted. Nothing.
Jane
9:52 pm
21 ****** Road
Plesse cime
1:27 am
I’m coming to Montreal, at the airport right now.
If you want to throw me out, you can. But you asked me to come.
4:12 am
I’m in Montreal. I’ll be at yours in 2 or 3 hours.
4:37 am
I’m at Target. Getting stuff for you, food for hangovers. You can trust me with this
Ilya huffs as he shuts off his phone and leans into the backseats of the Jeep to grab his coat, hat and sunglasses. He shoves on the hat and sunglasses and steps out the car to put his coat on. Ilya pulls up his headphones, grabs the car keys and his phone. He locks the car and walks over to the Target entrance. Why the fuck did he park at the back of the parking lot.
Ilya reaches the doors and one of the employees open up early. Thank fuck, he was shivering his dick off. Ilya walks in and mumbles a small “Thank you,” keeping his head down. He grabs a cart and makes his way to the drinks aisle.
Shane would want some ginger ale, right? Even though he probably had a whole shelf full. Ilya lifts a small crate off the shelf and puts it at the far end of the cart. Ilya then grabs himself a 4 pack of cokes. Ilya then goes to the candy aisle and picks himself up a pack of Nerds Gummy Clusters.
Ilya makes his way to another aisle where it has mixes for a bunch of stuff. Cakes, pancakes, waffles, all of that stuff. Ilya scans the pancake mixes for one that Shane would like. One that he would eat. It takes him a minute but he finds one with ingredients that would suit his diet.
Ilya then goes to the meat aisle and grabs some bacon. Shane would have some oil or butter at his apartment that he liked, right?
Ilya walks through the aisles of Target, trying to pass the time, music blasting through his headphones and into his ears to drown out his worries.
What if Shane turned him away? What if he faked it all and was waiting at the door with Rose? Shane wasn’t mean, he wouldn’t do that. Would he?
He finally has enough waiting and goes to checkout, the lady at the checkout looked tired.
“Morning sir.” She huffs.
“Good morning.”
“Find everything you need?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Ilya places the stuff onto the conveyor belt and spots a packet of gum. It’s the final thing he places onto the belt.
“Need a bag?” She tiredly asks.
“Yes.”
She grabs one of the plastic bags and hands it to Ilya to pack. Ilya packs his shopping, pays and leaves. Before he can fully exit, he spots some Lillies at the entrance. Fuck should he buy Shane flowers?
Ilya leaves the store, getting the car keys out of his pocket and unlocking the car. He opens the trunk and dumps the bag in, shutting it and locking his car again to go and get some Lillies for Shane.
If Shane didn’t want them, it was fine. He could lie and say that bright flowers help him during a hangover.
He picks up the Lillies and heads back to the same check out he was at only a few minutes ago. “Back again sir?” She says.
“Ah, yes. Forgot something.”
“Who are the flowers for them?”
“My.. girlfriend, Jane.”
“Well I hope she likes these, they’re nice.”
“Her favourite flowers are Lillies.” Ilya smiles.
“Thats great. $3.21 please.”
Ilya pays, thanks her and finally leaves Target. He clutches onto the Lillies as he makes his way back to the Jeep. He hopes Shane likes them.
Ilya puts the flowers in the passenger seat next to him, along with his phone. Ilya stars the car and drives off, making his way to Shane’s apartment.
————————————————————————
Ilya gets to Shane’s at 7:46 am. Fucking traffic and stupid fucking snow. But the Jeep was actually good in the snow, so Ilya will give the car man at the airport that.
He sits in the car till 8. Just thinking. Fuck he was so nervous. He shouldn’t be this nervous. This was Shane Hollander for fuck sake.
Ilya gets out the car, grabbing the Lillies and his phone. Ilya then opens the back door and slings his backpack over his shoulder. He unlocks the trunk and grabs the Target bag, putting the Lillies in them.
Ilya locks the trunk and car and makes his way to the back door he uses. He knows the code for it now, off by heart. He punches it in and steps inside, shutting the snow out. Fuck he should message Shane.
Jane
9:52 pm
21 ****** Road
Plesse cime
1:27 am
I’m coming to Montreal, at the airport right now.
If you want to throw me out, you can. But you asked me to come.
4:12 am
I’m in Montreal. I’ll be at yours in 2 or 3 hours.
4:37 am
I’m at Target. Getting stuff for you, food for hangovers. You can trust me with this
8:02 am
I’m here. Don’t freak out.
Ilya makes his way up the flight of stairs and all the way to Shane’s apartment.
He stops in front of Shane’s door. Now he was getting too nervous. Ilya should just turn away and go back to Boston. This was a huge mistake. Ilya knocks on the door.
No answer.
He knocks again.
No answer.
Ilya huffs and turns away, feeling defeated.
Then the door unlocks. “Rozanov?” A sleepy, croaky voiced Shane says.
“Hi.” Ilya turns round.
“Why are you here?” Shane questions.
“You called.” Ilya states.
“I did? Fuck my head kills.”
“I know it would. I brought stuff. Can I come in?” Ilya nervously asks, holding up the Target bag.
Shane nods and goes back into his apartment to let Ilya in. Ilya doesn’t think his feet have ever moved faster in his life. He walks in and places the Target bag on the counter.
“You got me flowers?” Shane asks.
“Yeah, they uh.. help me out when I’m hungover.” Lie.
“Really?” Shane takes a couple steps towards him.
“Of course.” Ilya takes them out the bag and hands them to Shane. Ilya watches his face light up a bit and hold back a smile.
“Lillies? Really.” Shane chuckles.
“They were the only ones there.” Another lie, they just stood out like his freckles, and Ilya was Lily so if Shane kicked him out he would have a reminder of him in his home. Ilya watches him put them in a vase and onto his breakfast bar.
“I think we should talk.” Shane starts.
“Yeah.” Ilya huffs. Shane walks over to his living room and sits on one end of his couch. Ilya sits on the other.
There is an awkward moment of silence for a minute. Shane and Ilya exchanging quick looks and then looking away.
“Did I call you drunk?” Shane asks.
“Yeah. You were really drunk.” Ilya confirms.
“Fuck.” Shane huffs, wiping his hand down his face. “Was.. was it bad?”
“I would say so.”
“Oh god. I didn’t say anything dumb did I?”
“No, no no no no no no. Nothing dumb. You were just crying and angry.” Ilya says.
“Really?” Shane’s voice shakes.
“Nothing stupid.”
“What did I say?”
“You missed me, you wanted me to come to Montreal, you said that you liked Rose but not as much as you liked me.”
Ilya watches Shane process all of the information he was just told. And then Ilya watches his lips wobble. “Fuck.” Shane sighs, digging the balls of his hands into his eyes.
Ilya doesn’t know what to do. He wants to go and comfort Shane and tell him he will be okay, but he doesn’t want to jump to that immediately.
Ilya watches Shane get up and pace back and forward in his living room, murmuring stuff to himself.
“Hollander.” Ilya looks round Shane’s apartment for a brief moment, a few Christmas decorations up. A tree, some garlands, some basic things.
“Hollander.” Ilya says louder.
“Hollander!” Ilya basically yells, pulling Shane back out from whatever trance he was in.
Shane looks at Ilya with wet eyes and wobbly lips. Ilya’s heart breaks. He gets up and goes to stand in front of Shane. “It’s okay.”
“But it’s not! I-I’m with… Rose. I’m meant to be with Rose.” Shane waves his hands in the air. “We.. we broke up! You shouldn’t be here!”
You shouldn’t be here.
“Hollander. It’s okay, I’ll go.” Ilya is able to say, past the lump in his throat. Ilya turns to go and walk out.
“Wait! Don’t go, please.” Shane squeaks. I’ll turns round to meet him. Tears streaming down his face, hair a mess.
“I won’t, if you don’t want me to.”
“Please stay.” Shane’s voice breaks.
“Okay.” He whispers. Ilya walks back over to Shane.
“I think,” Shane huffs, “I think we should talk.” He picks at the skin next to his thumb nail.
“Yes. We should.” Ilya says while sitting back down onto the couch.
Ilya watches Shane take a few deep breaths, walk back and forth a few times, crack his knuckles, and wipe his eyes furiously. “I shouldn’t have walked out. I’m sorry.” Shane begins, refusing to make eye contact with Ilya.
“Its o-“
“Don’t interrupt me.” Shane says. Ilya shuts up.
“I think… I think I was scared, of becoming more than just a ‘casual’ hook up.” Shane uses air quotes. “I probably became more scared when you asked me to stay. And then the ginger ale, and then the tuna melt.”
“I don’t think this is ‘casual’ anymore. It’s something more. I know you know it too.” Ilya nods once, slow.
“I don’t.. I don’t know why I’m like this. Sometimes I don’t want to be like this, it hurts me. A lot. I don’t know why I don’t like Rose as much as I like you.” Ilya watches the colour drain from Shane’s face.
“Hey, you can continue. I won’t say anything right now. Well apart from right now.” Ilya says. He watches Shane smile a little before continuing, looking at Ilya but not in his eyes.
Shane continues, “I think.. I think I’m gay. But I don’t know, I just don’t know anything anymore. And that fucking kills me. Rose wants to meet later after practice for a drink, probably to break up with me. Which I’m fine with, I think.”
“Look, I thought I could control everything. But when you said my name, I knew I couldn’t. And I didn’t like it and I back away. I ran away from what I want because I couldn’t control it.” Shane’s voice breaks. “Fuck.” He whispers while letting out a wet chuckle.
“I think.. what I’m trying to say is that I can’t ignore my feelings for you anymore. I can’t just run away from them anymore.” Shane finally makes eye contact with Ilya. They are both crying. Ilya doesn’t even know when he started to cry.
“Sorry..?” Shane says.
“No,” Ilya gets up and goes to stand infront of Shane. “No, no no no. Don’t say sorry.”
“But I should, I ran away, I ghosted you, I called you drunk, I-“ fuck it.
Ilya shuts Shane up by kissing him, grabbing on his jaw and waist, pulling him in. He feels Shane melt into the kiss, his whole body relaxing. All the stress and anxiety leaving him.
They both pull back for a moment, just looking at eachother with wet eyes. Shane was the most beautiful man he has ever seen. He really has missed looking at him. Shane didn’t even look at him on the ice. Shane stared at the ice while Ilya stared at him.
Shane, at full force, locks their lips again, making him and Ilya stumble back into one of Shane’s obnoxiously large paintings. “Shit, Shane-“ Ilya cuts himself off. Shane. He fucking said Shane. Shit. Fuck. Shane was going to kick him out.
“It’s fine, Ilya, I fucking hate that panting.” Shane says before kissing Ilya again, pulling him away and dragging him up the stairs. Their lips never stop touching. Along the way, Ilya’s coat and hat is thrown to the floor on the stairs, along with Ilya’s shoes.
At the top of the stairs, Shane pulls back and yaks Ilya’s shirt off, along with his own. Stumbling into Shane’s bedroom, Ilya tugs off his sweats, throwing them behind him. He shoves Shane down onto the bed and pulls off his sweats, throwing them behind him too.
Shane yanks off his boxers in a hurry, along with Ilya. Only their breaths filling the room. “Fuck I’ve miss you much Shane.”
“I’ve miss you too, Ilya.”
————————————————————————
Ilya makes small circles on Shane’s bicep they cuddle and he stares up at Shane’s ceiling. They both said each other’s names when they came. Held each other for a while till Shane demanded they get clean. Now they were in towels, lying in Shane’s bed that has new sheets on, of course.
“Do you want to talk now? I know I didn’t really let you earlier. Sorry.”
“No is okay. I can now.” Ilya says, looking down at Shane.
Ilya huffs before starting. If Shane could do it, he could. “When you left, I was not okay. Upset, angry. Marly came round, we always go to each other’s houses before a home game, and he saw me being pathetic. I said it was just family stuff and he said okay.”
Ilya looks back up at the ceiling. He doesn’t like to talk about his feelings. Made him feel weak, stupid, pathetic.
“And then when I saw you were with Rose, I got more angry, I got more upset. For the first week, I took it out on the team. Overworked them at practice. And then for the rest of it, until now, I took it out on myself. I drank alone at home, smoked a lot. It was not nice.”
“I spent a lot of time trying to hate you. But I couldn’t. I liked you too much.” Ilya moves to look at Shane, wet eyes.
“Hey, why are you crying?” Ilya softly says, wiping under his eye with his thumb.
“Sorry.” Shane croaks.
“No,” Ilya coos. “It’s okay, we’re okay now. Right?”
Shane nods and pulls him into his chest. Fuck he really liked Shane. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with him. Ilya plants a kiss into Shane’s hair and he rubs up and down his back.
“We’re are okay.” Shane says.
————————————————————————
“I have practice in an hour, so if you want to stay you can.” Shane nervously asks.
“Can I stay?” Ilya takes a bite of bacon.
“Yeah, I’ll be gone for about 2 hours. Then I’ll be back for only an hour before my dinner lunch thing with Rose.” Shane explains.
“That is.. nice.” Ilya says, taking a sip of his drink.
“Ilya, it’s just lunch. She’s probably going to break up with me. If she doesn’t I will.” Shanes shrugs his shoulders.
“Mh-hm.” Ilya takes his final bite of his breakfast, brunch basically. Ilya takes his plate to the sink and peppers Shane’s neck with kisses. “Do you even own a dishwasher?”
“Yeah but I find this more productive.” Shane smiles.
“I’m gonna go nap, now. Okay?”
“Okay.”
***
Shane liked that Ilya came. It showed he cared. Shane beated himself up every single day for leaving and not staying, when he wanted to stay.
Shane knew Ilya was tired. He probably hadn’t slept since he called him. So while Shane was at practice Ilya said he was going to nap, and then when he went out for lunch or something with Rose. Probably just drinks, he wasn’t going to touch any alcohol for a long time now.
Shane washes the final plate and puts it on to the drying rack. Shane didn’t want to go to practice, his head killed. Everything was sore and was definitely going to be more sore later.