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Ilya could live on drive through takeout, candy bars and questionable protein sources and as long as he had enough to run on and not so much as to gain any padding over his well defined muscles, well, quite frankly, he didn’t see what it mattered what he put in his mouth.
On the total other end of the spectrum Shane planned out his weekly menus and meal prepped. He counted out calories and macros and planned his menu carefully to meet his body's complex needs.
He had his shelf in the fridge neatly stocked and labeled with containers that kept his weekly lunches and sometimes dinners depending on schedule.
Where Ilya flew by the seat of his pants when it came to eating, Shane planned and treated his body well.
Once upon a time he’d even been far more strict, now, while he loosened the reins on what he allowed himself to eat he still made sure he had balanced meals that were well planned out and executed. There was only so far the opposite way Shane would allow himself to go, he still played pro hockey and keeping his body healthy was important to him.
He still had no clue what food group a McGriddle fell into.
He wasn’t entirely sure knowing would make him feel any better about them.
Shane had figured something out by accident, though it was something he probably always should have known.
Ilya had been sick, just a crummy winter cold. Enough to make him not want to make anything to eat and not really care if he did eat, but not enough to make him so nauseous he didn’t want to eat at all. So when Shane, desperate for Ilya to eat something, curled up with him on the couch with one of his own meal prep containers and started to feed Ilya from it in order to just get anything into the other man, he was surprised how eagerly his heathen of a husband finished his ‘bird food.’ It was pesto chicken with chickpea pasta, it was hardly bird food but it had never been worth arguing over it with Ilya who thought of himself as hilarious.
So Shane cooked extra for and fed his husband while he was sick and recovering.
When the pattern kept up even after Ilya should have been able to prepare his own food again, Shane realized, it had never been that Ilya didn’t want good healthy food, it was that he didn’t think he was worth the extra effort. Shane sharing his, made him feel worth it for a while.
It broke Shane’s heart a little that after a decade together he had only just realized any of that.
Shane’s dad’s love language had always been feeding his family and from what Shane had learned of Irina over his years with Ilya sharing small bits of her with him over their time together, she had been the same. When Ilya lost his mom he lost anyone that cared how or even if he nourished his body anymore. And when people who did, entered his life again it was hard for him to accept it for what it was. So Ilya continued to treat his body how he felt it deserved to be treated.
He obviously needed to be shown more than simply told and life had always been too busy or kept them too far apart for Shane to realize till then.
Shane determined it was time for some things to switch up.
Things could change and Ilya deserved them too.
So Shane started meal prepping for Ilya. He knew Ilya didn’t like eating the same meal every day so he planned three meals to batch cook for the week and rotated them, labeling the containers and putting them on Ilya’s shelf in the fridge.
Nothing was said, no big deal was made, it just happened as if it always had, and maybe it should have? Shane didn’t know.
Without saying anything Ilya started cleaning all the containers every day his and Shane’s both, and putting them away where they belonged so Shane could find clean containers when he needed for the next prep…
Message silent but clear.
You cook, I’ll clean.
They shared the load.
They showed each other their love.
More things switched around too.
Healthier habits were born.
Drive through trips were cut first in half and then by a third, till McDonald’s became the rare treat it should have always been. Shane still didn’t know what food group a McGriddle was, but he found it didn’t matter as much when he wasn’t finding dozens of their wrappers in the back seat of Ilya’s car.
Shane learned new recipes in an effort to keep Ilya happy with the choices, not that he complained, but Shane found he very much enjoyed how pleased Ilya looked when Shane tried something new just for him. And Shane was able to keep them within the macros most healthy for two Hockey players closer than farther from middle age.
Soon Ilya was sending recipes that both sounded good to him, but followed Shane’s wants for his own diet showing a respect for Shane’s own desires and time.
They were eating more of the same foods before long, Shane needing to cook far fewer different meals, spending less time in the kitchen while still making sure to care for his and Ilya’s dietary needs.
They worked together. They were a team and when Ilya felt loved he showed love ten fold. He always had. Love just seemed to multiply in Ilya. It was a wonder for Shane to observe.
He started picking up other chores Shane didn’t prefer, sorting socks and pairing them, silly but it was always left undone till baskets overflowed. Shane could spend the extra time cooking for the two of them and still have time to relax with Ilya because Ilya picked up slack elsewhere.
Nothing was said, no big deal was made. Something needed doing and they did it. That was love.
After about three months of their new routine set into motion, Ilya had his annual physical.
He grinned and tossed himself down next to Shane on the couch kissing his cheek before sliding down so he could lie his head in his husband’s lap. “My cholesterol is down,” he told him proudly. “I love you too.” He added in a soft reverent murmur.