i never minded being on my own (then something broke in me)

Chapter 1

Shane’s parents always supported him. When he asked to go to acting camp when he was in middle school, they spent hours with him researching the best ones. Shane’s mother found him auditions and always read through scripts with him. His father would leave work early to drop him off at the airport and hand him a wad of assorted, colorful bills to buy something to eat before his flight left. When Shane got his first real TV show role in his last year of high school, they picked up their lives and moved out to LA to be with him. When he accepts another award at another award show, he smiles into the lights and always thanks his parents. Tonight is no different, but his parents aren’t at the ceremony. He’s twenty-three years old, and his parents have seen him win enough awards that they are happy to watch at home on TV. When the night is over, though, Rose is at least there for him. She has her own award, and they chat on the car ride home. He met Rose when he first moved out to LA. She worked on the same show as him. They had tried dating but it never felt right. Although neither of them ever got into the specifics, they decided it was best to be friends. Shane is grateful to have her in his life still. He wishes sometimes, though, that they were closer. Like so many people in his life, he feels like she is an arms-length away. He isn’t sure how to close that space, either. When they had been dating still, Shane had thought that once they had sex, it would be easier. Nothing had changed, though. “We’re going out tonight,” she tells him as she sends out text messages on her phone. “I don’t know, Rose. I got up super early this morning and –” She rolls her eyes. “We are both winners, and that means it is our job to celebrate tonight. You need it.” When Shane doesn’t respond right away, she adds, “You need to get laid, too.” Shane undoes his bowtie. “Are we going back to your place or mine? I don’t know what I have to wear at yours.” “Neither. We’re going straight there.” “I’m literally in a full tux. That is ridiculous.” Rose puts her phone down and leans forward to hold his cheek. “And you look great. Let’s have fun, seriously.” The club is loud and hot, and the tuxedo is technically a rental, but Shane drops his jacket somewhere and loses track of it after a couple of drinks. He feels dumb and out of place, but the feeling starts to fade a little as he drinks more. He does deserve this, really. He’s been working non-stop for the past few months on the show and then press. He has a week off before he will start a small indie movie. He’s nervous about the movie. He never even wanted to do it, but his agent talked him into it. He's leaning against the bar and sipping on some fruity drink that the bartender recommended when he realizes the guy next to him is staring. He shouldn’t be surprised. He’s already had to sign a few random objects and take a few grainy, dark selfies with fans tonight. He doesn’t say anything, though, hoping the fan will not engage. “Did you just get married?” the man next to him asks in a strange accent. Shane turns, finally looking at him. He’s around his age with curly blond hair and a distinct mole on his cheek. He doesn’t have that starstruck expression on his face, though. He might not even be a fan. “Yes,” Shane says, trying not to giggle. He’s unbuttoned his shirt a few buttons, exposing his chest and a gold chain. He catches the man looking at it. The man raises an eyebrow at him. “This is your after party?” “Reception,” Shane corrects. “Classy.” Shane can’t help but to smile. The man seems horribly confused, and Shane can’t help but to hold out his left hand. “I’m not even wearing a ring!” “So, you’re a liar?” “That’s kind of my job, I guess.” “How is that a job?” Shane realizes that he definitely doesn’t know who he is. It’s nice, really. “I’m an actor.” The man moves a little closer to him and says, “What?” Shane leans in and repeats himself. The man smells good. Shane forces himself to move back again. The man is sweating a little and his shirt is nearly going see-through. “Oh,” the man says, only looking slightly impressed. “You are famous?” “Where are you from?” “Russia.” “Not famous enough for a Russian guy in a club in LA to know me.” This makes him laugh, and Shane is enthralled watching him do it. “So, not a very good actor, then?” Shane shrugs and takes another sip of his drink. “What do you do?” “Hockey.” “You do that for a living?” “You do acting for a living?” “Fair enough.” They exchange smiles. Shane knows it is dangerous, and he isn’t even sure if the man is into it, but he can’t help himself when he asks, “I’m staying at a hotel nearby.” He isn’t. He was planning on going back home after the awards. The man eyes him suspiciously. Shane fears he misread the situation. If it wasn’t for the few drinks he had, he would probably be frozen with terror. Instead, he meets his gaze and doesn’t try to play it off like some joke. He means it, and he wants this man to know it. “I don’t even know your name.” It’s not a no. “You want me to Google myself?” “You’re kind of full of yourself.” “I won an award tonight,” he says, beaming. “I want to celebrate.” When he tells Rose that he is leaving, she beams proudly. The man is already outside smoking a cigarette when Shane meets back up with him. He realizes that the man never actually said he was a hockey player, but by looking at how fit he is, Shane thinks he might be. They take a taxi to a hotel nearby that Shane can easily get a room in with one text. In the elevator up to the room, the man is eyeing him but not in the flirtatious way that Shane had hoped he would. Instead, the bright lights of the hotel make Shane feel completely sober and suddenly nervous about this entire interaction. He hasn’t slept with someone for a couple months, and it’s been even longer since it was with someone he didn’t even know. He’s suddenly thinking about the bit at the end where he has to practically beg this guy not to mention that they slept together. He’s suddenly worried maybe this guy is only pretending not to know who he is and he is instead a fan and will secretly film them or – The doors slide open and the man slowly licks his lips and gestures for Shane to go first. Shane doesn’t care anymore. Once the door is securely shut, the man quickly closes the space between them and starts kissing him. It’s urgent and pressing and exactly what Shane needs after all this time. Shane slips his hands under the man’s shirt. Jesus, Shane thinks, he might be in better shape than he is. Shane suddenly pulls away. “Wait. I don’t even know your name.” “My name is Ilya,” he says, clearly confused. “Ilya? Is that a fake name you just made up?” Ilya rolls his eyes. “All you Americans are so dumb. It’s Russian name.” “Right, okay. That makes sense. And I’m Canadian, just so you know.” When Ilya doesn’t say anything for a moment, head cocked, clearly waiting, Shane laughs. “Right. I’m Shane.” “Fake name probably.” Ilya crowds him against a wall, and Shane lets him. Shane doesn’t remember all the details of his last one-night stand, but he doesn’t remember it being this seamless. Instead of being awkward and unsure, they both fall into place so perfectly. Shane kisses his neck and Ilya unzips his pants. Shane falls to his knees and puts Ilya’s cock into his mouth. Ilya puts his hand in Shane’s hair and Shane moans at the touch. When he looks up at Ilya, he is looking back down at him, mouth slightly parted. It doesn’t take long for Ilya to come. Shane is even more turned on when Ilya’s curses switch from English to Russian. Shane swallows him down while Ilya watches intently and still moaning. It’s only then that Shane realizes that they haven’t even touched the bed yet. He’s hard and desperate to come, but he hasn’t even touched himself yet. He stays on his knees, just waiting to see what Ilya wants from him. Ilya reaches out and tilts Shane’s chin up with a gentle hand on his face. “I’ll fuck you next time,” he says. Shane’s heart rate picks up the thought of there being a next time. He knows it’s unlikely, but he already wants it. “How do you want to come?” Shane feels shy suddenly, and he wants to look away, but Ilya’s hand is still holding his face up. “How do you want me?” Ilya smiles at this and pulls him so that they can fall into the bed together. Ilya kisses his neck as he undoes Shane’s pants and starts to jerk him off. Shane sighs in relief at the touch. It’s been a while since he’s been with someone, let alone someone that felt this right. He moans into Ilya’s neck and tries not to come right away. “Love how you sound,” Ilya tells him. He lets go of Shane for a few seconds to spit in his hand. He says something in Russian then, and Shane wishes he knew what it was. When he comes, Ilya moans with him. Then, without Shane asking, he rolls over and grabs a few tissues to clean Shane off with. Shane watches him do it while he tries to catch up on his breathing. Ilya is quick to start getting dressed after they are done. Shane bites his nail and tries to remember how he started this conversation before. He feels like he needs to just lead with it so he doesn’t have to do it after it’s done. “I need for you to not tell anyone about this,” Ilya says as he slips on his shirt. Shane squints. “What?” “I’m serious. Nobody can know about this.” “Of course. Yeah. I think that’s a great idea.” “Okay. I’m going.” Shane is elated that he didn’t have to be the one to ask, but he realizes then that this was it. He hasn’t slept with someone and felt like this since he was probably a teenager. He’s angry at himself for not having Ilya fuck him. He hates to let him just walk out, but Ilya doesn’t seem interested in sharing any contact information. “Can I get you an Uber or something?” Ilya smirks. “I’m good. Thank you, Shane from Canada.” “You too, Ilya from Russia.”

“Did you know that the Boston Raiders were at that club last night?” Rose asks. She’s lying on her back on Shane’s bed, half-heartedly helping him pack. Shane tosses a few workout shirts into his bag. “Huh?” Rose has already asked him about how his night went after he left, clearly digging for more information on who he went home with. Shane has always used chivalry as an excuse, some sort of gentleman’s code, and Rose will usually stop pestering after a bit. Despite being so close, Shane can’t quite tell her about sleeping with men. It seems almost spiteful knowing that they had dated for a bit. He also tells himself that he won’t need to tell her because it’ll pass eventually. It will all be a phase come a few years from now. “The hockey team,” she says, rolling over that so that she’s on her stomach. “You know, sports.” “Really?” He feels hot and nervous. He turns his back to her as he rifles through his shirts like he is looking for something specific. “Yeah, like the whole team. I didn’t even realize. You think I’d at least recognize one of them.” Shane is now digging through a dresser drawer full of socks. “Oh, you know what, I did kind of know that,” he says, hoping it sounds casual. “I talked to…someone from the team I think?” “Really? Who?” “I don’t remember his name. Blond. Russian. Kind of intense.” Shane tries to keep his brain from lingering on memories of Ilya’s hands in his hair. Rose has her mouth open when he looks over at her. “You literally talked to the team captain and you didn’t even know? Shane, that was Ilya Rozanov.” Shane feels like he can’t breathe for a second at the sound of his name. “That sounds right. Yeah.” After a few seconds, Rose holds out her phone. It’s a picture of Ilya she has pulled up from Google. He’s in a hockey uniform but his helmet is off, curly hair glistening with sweat. “This is who you talked to, right?” Shane nods. He hopes that it isn't obvious on his face that he did much more than talking with the man. “I am so fucking jealous. I wish you would’ve said something! What did you guys even talk about?” “What?” “You said you talked to him. What about?” “Just what we were drinking. At the bar. That’s where I was talking to him. And then, like, we talked about our jobs and that’s how I found out he played hockey.” Rose settles down after that and starts to check Shane’s work like a doting mother. She adds a few more pairs of jeans and socks and then leans in to give Shane an unexpected hug. Shane tries to enjoy it, but he’s never been much of a hugger, and he’s still nervous with the talk of Ilya. “I’m going to miss you,” she says. “I’m serious.” “It’s an indie so it’s only, like, five weeks or something. They’ll do it as fast as they can.” “Are you nervous about it?” Shane only told her a vague synopsis of the movie, but she knows it is a gay coming-of-age story. He told her that he wasn’t sure if he was going to portray the character the right way, and she was supportive, but the whole thing made him feel panicked. His agent assured him that no one would assume he was gay just because he played one gay character. Shane heaves out a sigh. “When am I not nervous?” “You’re going to do great. I know it.”

Ilya Rozanov. Shane Googles the name later that night after talking to Rose about him. He scrolls through pictures of his face and feels anxious like Ilya is in the room with him. He finds his Instagram and smiles reading the sarcastic captions he puts on his gym selfies and the artistic photos he takes of his home country. He has more followers than Shane does. It shocks him. No wonder Ilya was the one to ask Shane not to tell anyone. It’s late. Maybe midnight. He starts filming tomorrow, but he can’t sleep. Before he can think too much about it, he follows Ilya, and then he locks his phone and tries to fall asleep again. The next morning, he has a message from Ilya sent at 2:14 AM: took you long enough.

Miles is out. He is openly gay. He is also Shane’s co-star for the next few weeks. The movie means so much to him, and Shane can’t help but to feel like he is letting everyone down. He had tried to do some research online. It mostly felt useless and just reminded Shane of being fifteen and nervously Googling an “Am I Gay?” quiz. He feels better when he’s not shooting. The whole cast hangs out in someone’s trailer or hotel room or a nearby dive bar. He likes filming indie movies because everyone feels so much closer and not as disjointed as a big budget movie. No one has egos or intense nightly routines. It’s just a tight-knit bunch of actors drinking beer and watching whatever movie they find on TV. Shane and Miles are sitting on one of the hotel suite’s couches. They’ve gotten to know each other well, which is good considering they share a few intimate scenes that Shane is dreading. “Are you excited to kiss me?” Miles asks. “Of course!” It feels like the right thing to say. He’s never had a female actress ask him the question before, but he figures he would say the same thing. He feels restless and unfocused, though, because Ilya Rozanov is the slowest texter he has ever met. After a few messages through Instagram, Ilya sent over his personal number. Now, they have been having awkward conversations. Shane is somehow both eager and terrified for another message from Ilya. Miles leans closer to Shane and, in a stage-whisper, asks, “Have you ever kissed a guy before?” Shane feels his face grow hot. He wasn’t expecting the question. “Um,” he starts, not at all sure what he is expected to respond to this with. Have most seemingly-straight theater guys never kissed a guy? Miles bursts into laughter. “I’ll take that as a no.” Shane’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He wants to dig it out and see if it is Ilya. “We could practice, if you’re nervous,” Miles tells him then. “Oh. Um, well, not – not here.” Shane fumbles over all his words. “I’m not nervous.” Miles nods knowingly. “Got it. I understand.” It’s so cryptic that it almost makes Shane upset. It’s as if Miles already knows what Shane is thinking without him saying anything. Quickly, Shane stands from the couch. “I should probably call it for the night. I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Night, Shane,” Miles says, smiling softly. Back in his own hotel room, he opens his phone to see a new message from Ilya. They had been talking about what they like to eat after workouts. Shane kind of understands why Ilya takes so long to respond to messages. It’s probably boring to him. He sends a message back about his favorite kind of protein powder and then undresses to take a shower. He tries to think about the scenes he’s filming tomorrow, but he gets distracted. He tries to think of past women he’s slept with, some better than others, while he touches his cock, but it does nothing for him. He thinks about Ilya. He imagines him opening Shane up and then fucking him, sweet and slow at first and then rough. Shane falls apart so easily at the thought. He wants to hear Ilya moaning Russian in his ear. He wants Ilya’s mouth on his cock. He wants the two of them in a million different ways.

Ilya: what is the movie about? Shane: it’s a coming-of-age Ilya: sounds boring Shane: no it’s good Ilya: are you naked in it? Shane: you’ll have to watch and see Ilya: i’ll skip through the boring scenes

Shane does think it’s a good movie. The writing is good and the director know what he wants but isn’t rude about it and the other actors around him are great to play off of. The thing about the movie that is bothering Shane is that it’s making him think of his own situation. Sure, he’s slept with a handful of guys in his life, but he has never thought of himself as gay. He has slept with some women. They weren’t necessarily positive experiences, but he always figured that he just needed to meet the right woman. He spent most of his time in middle and high school endlessly defending himself. He was a theater kid and people always assumed he was gay. He always made a point to have a girlfriend, someone he could point to and say something like, "How can I be gay if I have a girlfriend?" Shane realizes, though, that all along the only difference between him and the other kids he was trying so hard to not associate himself with was really his ability to hide it, even from himself. Now, though, Shane reads the script and realizes that he never needed to do any research for the role because his own emotions are right there on the page. He spends some nights just staring up at his ceiling coming to terms with the face that he might actually be gay. He’s terrified. He doesn’t know who to talk to about it. Instead, he texts Ilya back about his favorite cities he’s traveled to and goes to bed.

When the movie is done shooting, Shane flies back to LA the same night that Ilya has a game. He doesn’t know how he manages to do it, but he subtly hints to Rose that he wouldn’t mind watching the game tonight. He knew she wanted to watch it, anyways. He says something vague about wanting to see that guy he met at the bar. On the TV, he realizes that Ilya is kind of a big deal. And that people hate him. “They hate him only because he’s so good,” Rose explains between bits of hockey rules that she is trying to teach him. “It has nothing to do with the fact he is fighting with the other team?” Rose laughs. “No, that’s part of the game.” Shane watches as they cut to a clip of Ilya off the ice and drinking from his water bottle. He’s sweating and smiling and seems so comfortable. Shane feels like a kid watching their celebrity crush. He wants to see Ilya again. Ilya’s team wins. Shane and Rose are both celebrating like they are there. “I love that you love hockey now,” she says. “We can watch all the games together now!” Shane nods and smiles and then excuses himself to the bathroom. He locks the door and pulls open his messages with Ilya. He knows that Ilya is probably busy celebrating with his team and his friends, but Shane can’t help but to send him a quick message. Shane: congrats on your win! i watched the game with a friend. you look good in your hockey uniform Then, before he can talk himself out of it, he sends one last message. Shane: i want to see you again.

Chapter 2

It’s probably one of the most embarrassing things Shane has ever done. He buys an overpriced, last-minute ticket to Chicago and doesn’t tell anyone. He does make sure that Ilya doesn’t have other plans before he actually boards the flight, but it does feel a little pathetic to tell Ilya that he is only going to Chicago to see him while he’s in town for a game. It’s hard to get a read on Ilya over text, but when he shows up to Shane’s hotel, he seems pleased. His hair is still a little wet, and he’s just wearing a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, but Shane instantly feels better about his decision to come all the way here. “Did you win?” Shane asks, unsure what else to say as they stand across from each other. “You didn’t watch?” Shane shakes his head truthfully. He realizes that it might seem a little rude. “I mean, no, I didn’t watch it. But I don’t really know anything about hockey.” Ilya takes off his jacket and asks, “Did you want to talk about hockey the entire night or did you have something else in mind?” Shane can feel himself already getting hard. “I think you should fuck me.” Ilya appears to mull this over, even moving his head from side to side like he is in deep thought. “I can maybe do that.” He’s teasing him, but Shane doesn’t care. “Please.” The smirk on Ilya’s face falls away when he says this. He steps over to Shane and nearly smashes into him. He can feel Ilya’s stubble on his jaw. He tries to breathe evenly through kisses, but he feels light-headed. Ilya stops to take off Shane’s shirt and then his pants, eyes admiring him. Shane keeps in shape, but he still feels a little self-conscious next to Ilya. The way he looks at him, though, makes him feel like it doesn’t matter. Once they are both undressed, Ilya pushes him down on to the mattress and strokes his cock lightly. “You want to be fucked?” “Fuck. Yes.” Ilya runs his hands over Shane’s body and says, “Ask nicely.” “Please fuck me.” Shane has only ever had someone inside of him a couple times. Both were men that he never saw again after. He looks up at Ilya and hopes that it won’t be true for them, too. Despite Ilya’s overall roughness, he is gentle while prepping Shane. He makes sure that Shane is doing okay, but it doesn’t feel necessary for him to even say anything when Shane is moaning so loudly with every touch. Ilya doesn’t ask how Shane wants him this time, and instead turns Shane around and fucks him on his hands and knees. Ilya’s hands are gripping his hips when Shane comes without even having his cock touched. When Ilya realizes what has happened, he also comes, roughly slamming into Shane a few more times. Shane expects for Ilya to leave right away again, but he doesn’t. He lays down next to Shane, just so that their shoulders are touching, and says, “You came all the way from LA for that.” Shane scoffs. “I’m doing other stuff here, too. Like…the bean? I’ll go see that.” “Mm, sure.” “Or the art museum. I’ve heard it’s good.” “Right, of course.” “But, um, I don’t fly out until tomorrow night. You could…stay a bit longer if you want.” “I can,” Ilya says slowly. “Just for sex.” Shane suddenly feels like he just asked Ilya to be his boyfriend or something. He blushes. “No, I just meant – “ “Shane, I can’t have a relationship with man. Bad for hockey. Bad for Russia. We can keep doing this, but no more.” “That’s totally fine. I really didn’t mean to insinuate anything or ask you to be – I’m happy with this.” Ilya laughs. “Come to shower with me.”

After their night in Chicago, they start to text more. When anything happens in his life, he instantly wants to text Ilya about it. Ilya might joke that it’s boring, but Shane doesn’t feel like a bother when he texts him. Shane learns more about hockey, Ilya’s family problems back in Russia, his collection of sports cars. He loves getting to know him, and Ilya seems genuinely interested in him, too. One night, when Shane is especially tired, he convinces himself it’s okay to ask Ilya if he would be open to calling. Shane almost immediately regrets it because he worries that goes beyond their casual relationship, but Ilya agrees almost immediately. “It’s good to hear your voice,” Shane says after Ilya picks up. After a pause, Ilya asks, “What are you wearing?” Shane looks down before answering. “Just some joggers and an old t-shirt from an acting camp I went to when I was a kid.” Ilya huffs a quiet laugh into the phone. “Sexy.” “How was your game?” “Lost.” “Oh, I’m sorry.” “Is okay. They are cheaters. How was your interview?” Shane scrubs his face. He was trying to forget about the interview. It feels even weirder to talk about it with Ilya. “Fine. I don’t know.” When Ilya doesn’t say anything in response, Shane keeps going. “The movie is about a guy who realizes he is gay, and so a lot of the press so far has been a bunch of questions about how I felt portraying the character, or about LGBT media, or – I don’t know. Stuff I don’t know much about.” “You don’t know much about being gay? It hasn’t been that long since we saw each other.” “Very funny. I’m serious. I never feel like I say the right stuff. I don’t want to disappoint anyone.” Ilya is quiet for a moment. “Are you not gay?” Shane swallows thickly. It seems like a dumb question coming from the guy that has fucked him. They’ve never talked much about their specific identities, only that they both are not ready for anyone to know that they are anything but straight. “I like both,” Ilya adds. “I…think I’m gay.” It’s the first time that he’s said it out loud. He feels like he might cry. He doesn’t understand why the sentence feels so hard to say, and he is thankful that he isn’t actually facing Ilya in-person. “Okay. So, why are you so worried about interviews? You can answer however you want.” “I’m not out. And I don’t plan to come out. It seems fucked up while I’m literally promoting a movie about it.” “You don’t have to. Not fucked up.” “I know it’s harder for you,” Shane says slowly. He doesn’t want to talk about himself suddenly. Ilya hums thoughtfully. “I don’t know any bisexual hockey players. I definitely don’t know any bisexual, Russian hockey players.” “Does anyone know about you? Back home, I mean?” “No. Kind of. I have friend, Svetlana. I think she knows.” “She’s okay with it?” “I think.” “That’s good that you have somebody.” They talk for a little longer, both growing more and more tired. Shane likes the way Ilya’s voice sounds when he’s sleepy. His accent seems more pronounced and he gets deeper and raspier. After they say goodnight, Shane is about to hang up, but Ilya stops him. “Shane,” he says quietly. “Can you call again tomorrow?” “Definitely.” When they hang up, Shane smiles into the ceiling.

Shane and Rose walk through the park on the first sunny day of spring. Shane fidgets with the cardboard sleeve on his coffee while Rose talks about her latest project. After months of putting it off, Shane knows he needs to tell Rose about everything. He needs someone he can talk to about it, but worse, he feels like a horrible friend for not saying something sooner. “Do you even have anything going on this summer?” Rose asks. She laughs after saying it. “Rude! I’m booked and busy, just so you know.” It feels nice to laugh. It makes Shane feels a little lighter. “You have a lot?” Shane shakes his head. “Not really. The new season doesn’t start filming until, like, August. I have a few ad deals to film but not much else.” “Sounds nice. I would love to not be locked in for another ten horrible movies for the rest of my life.” “You won’t be saying that when you get your next paycheck.” “Don’t be too jealous.” Shane is going through a million different ways to bring it up, but he ends up going with, “I think I’ll try to see someone this summer more. I, um, kind of met someone.” Rose stops walking and nearly drops her coffee. “What are you talking about?” “Stop! It’s not a big deal.” “Completely untrue. Since when did you meet someone? And you haven’t even mentioned her once?” Shane looks down to this empty coffee cup. This feels so much harder than when he told Ilya. “It’s a guy,” he says slowly. When he looks up, Rose is smiling. “Is that why you didn’t tell me?” Shane nods. “Kind of.” She grabs his free hand and makes him look up at her. “Hey, Shane. You know I don’t care, right? It’s not a big deal.” He feels like he can breathe again. “Thank you. I was just worried you’d be upset because we dated.” “Shane, I’m not trying to be rude,” she says. “But this isn’t even the first time this has happened to me.” He cringes. “God. I’m sorry. Really.” “Who is it? Have I met him before?” Shane leans in and talks quietly. “You do. Kind of. It’s Ilya. Ilya Rozanov.” Rose brings her hand up to her mouth and gasps. “No. Fucking. Way.” Then, “Is this why you suddenly were interested in hockey? I thought that was weird.” “Shut up. I can be interested in sports.” “Are you guys serious?” “I honestly have no clue. We’ve slept together a few times, but…I think he just wants to leave it at that.” “Do you want more than that?” Shane thinks about Ilya’s voice when they call at night. It’s never for very long, but Shane loves their exchange of pieces of their lives. He could listen to Ilya talk all day about his early days in hockey, or his favorite snacks in Russia, or the way he hates American small talk. Their back and forth feels so natural and easy in a way that Shane rarely finds with people. Yes, he really does want more than that. So much more.

When July comes, Shane is desperate to see Ilya again. Although Ilya never asked him to, Shane makes plans to stay in Boston for a while. Neither of them discuss what their relationship is despite how desperate Shane is to solidify Ilya in his life. He is constantly scared that one day Ilya won’t answer the phone and never text back, and things will just be over. When Shane tells Ilya on the phone that he will be in town for a week, Ilya quickly starts telling him about the things they could do. He talks about restaurants and bars and an aquarium and a “fucking amazing” European grocery store, and Shane wants to be excited, but he can’t help the dread he feels when he thinks about it. Finally, he has to stop Ilya and say, “Are you sure that it’s okay for us to be out in public together?” There is a long pause. Shane wishes he could see if his face. “I can have friends. Nobody would know…about everything.” “Right, no. I get that. It’s just that since I did that movie where I played a gay character, people are kind of assuming that I’m gay. I haven’t really publicly said anything about it, but I don’t know if people would, like, assume anything about you if we’re together or – I don’t know. I’m scared of fucking things up for you.” Again, there is a pause. Shane wonders if he talked too fast and too much and Ilya lost the thread of what he was even saying. Worse, Shane gets worried that Ilya is upset about this information. “Shane,” he says slowly. “Just because people think I’m gay, it does not make me gay.” “So, you don’t care?” “Don’t care.” No one is in his room, but he covers his face with the crook of his elbow and smiles into it. “You want to take me to an aquarium?” Ilya starts talking about the sea lions they have when another call beeps in Shane’s ear. “Hey, Ilya, I’m sorry. My mom is calling. Can I call you back in a bit?” “Only if you promise to do dirty talk later.” “Ew, after a call with my mom?” “Fine. Save your orgasms for when you visit me.” Shane knows it is meaningless and all semantics, but he loves the way that Shane’s trip to Boston has turned into his trip to visit Ilya. It was always to visit him, but he did frame it as more of a touristy trip in case Ilya thought it was weird. After saying goodbye to Ilya, Shane takes the call from his mother. “You’re coming to visit next week,” his mother says, forgoing all pleasantries. Shane is used to it. “You haven’t been home in months, and I know you have some time off because I texted your manager.” “You’re really not supposed to bother her with stuff like that, Mom,” Shane says, sighing. “I can’t come next week. I have plans.” It is true that he hasn’t seen his parents in a few months. He does dutifully call them every week, and they have been understanding about him being so busy, but he does know that he is avoiding them. He’s never mentioned anything about his sexuality, despite his mother’s numerous, fruitless attempts at setting him up with girls that Shane couldn’t even pretend to be interested in. It wouldn’t be that hard to tell them that he is gay. Shane thinks it would be easier if they would just assume. “What are you doing?” she asks. She sounds genuinely curious instead of annoyed that Shane is unavailable, but Shane also knows that he won’t get out of it unless he gives some details. He debates lying, but he can’t come up with anything if work stuff is already out of the picture. He realizes he hasn’t said anything for way too long. He can technically tell the truth in a way. “Mom, don’t be weird about this,” he starts. “But I just started seeing someone. And I didn’t tell you because I don’t know what’s going on with it. I’m going to visit them next week.” Now it’s Shane’s mother’s turn to be silent. “Oh. I’m happy for you, Shane. Sometimes I get worried about you all by yourself so much.” “Mom, I’m not – “ “Are you seeing Rose again?” “No.” “Do I know her?” Shane could easily correct her, but he decides that he should probably come out to her in- person. If he ever does. “You don’t. I’ll be in Boston all next week. I can come after if you want, though?” “Sounds good. I am really happy, honestly. Are you happy with her?” When Shane hears this, he wishes he had never brought it up. He feels like the worst son. Although he’s not lying, he’s definitely omitting the fact that it is not a woman and it is really only a casual hookup, no matter how much Shane is starting to wish it was more than that. “I’m really happy,” he finally says.

Shane doesn’t book a hotel. He also doesn’t ask Ilya if he can stay with him. Instead, he browses hotels on his laptop while he is talking to Ilya on the phone the night before he leaves. After Ilya shoots down his first option, claiming that it is a bad hotel, he casually tells Shane to stay with him at his apartment. It’s exactly what Shane was hoping for all along. He hates the way that he is thrilled at the mere suggestion that he can stay with Ilya, and his brain already starts creating cliché scenarios like Ilya picking him up from the airport, making him something to eat at his apartment, the two of them spooning in Ilya’s bed after they fuck. He tries his best to ignore all of it. They aren’t together, and they can’t be. Shane takes a taxi to Ilya’s apartment and checks his texts for the entry codes into Ilya’s budling until he finds himself at Ilya’s door. When the door opens, Ilya smiles and Shane smiles back. They don’t hug, even if it feels like it should happen. Although Ilya doesn’t make him lunch or even offer him a drink, they do fuck. Ilya shoves Shane against the wall and holds his wrists together with one hand and pins them above his head. It makes Shane’s knees feel weak with how turned on he is around Ilya. He barely needs to say what he wants. Ilya just knows. He can throw in a quiet is this okay, but he has to know by now that Shane would let him do anything he wants to him. After kissing his neck and down his chest, Ilya fucks him into the mattress. Shane whimpers until Ilya shoves a finger in his mouth, and it’s enough to make him come. Their last phone call that ended with dirty talk was this exact scenario. After, Shane is still heaving. They are lying side by side. He wants to turn over and press his face into Ilya’s arm or bury it in his chest, but he stays where he is, eyes pointed up at the ceiling. Their toes are touching. “Was this the only reason you came to Boston?” Ilya asks, turning on his side. Shane has to turn his hands into fists to keep himself from reaching out and tracing all of Ilya’s moles with his fingertip. It seems too intimate. More intimate, at least, than just sleeping together. Shane laughs. “Yes. I’m actually going to head out now.” Suddenly, Ilya presses against him and wraps his arms around him. He smells so good, even after sweating. His hair is tickling Shane’s face, and he can feel his hot breath on his chest. Fuck, Shane thinks, he could stay like this for hours. “You can’t leave,” Ilya says. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Despite a whole week feeling like a lifetime when Shane arrived, it feels like it passes just as quickly as a few hours in a hotel room. Ilya excitedly shows him around Boston. Although he’s constantly complaining about where he lives, Shane can tell he’s proud of it. He’s constantly pointing at things and telling Shane random stories like the time he threw up after drinking too much a block from his apartment. One night, he even takes Shane out to a bar with some of the guys on his hockey team. When he complains that he doesn’t know what to wear out to the bar, Ilya digs through his own closet and pulls out a button-up with a tiger print on it. Shane laughs for a minute before he realizes Ilya is serious. He still wears it, stupidly happy to share with Ilya. As they walk to the bar, Shane is nervous to meet anyone from Ilya’s life. He doesn’t want to make their relationship obvious. Ilya doesn’t seem worried, though. Partway through the walk, he realizes that there are photographers taking their pictures. “Do you think they are here for me or you?” Shane asks cheekily. “Definitely me. My city.” “I’m kind of a big deal.” Ilya laughs and slightly shoves him. Shane beams into the pavement and hopes that the cameras can’t tell how bad he’s fallen for Ilya. All of his friends instantly know who Shane is when they get there. “He never shuts up about you,” Cliffs tells Shane. Ilya only rolls his eyes and says they all need to get shots. Partway through the night, Shane realizes that Ilya isn’t worried about anyone suspecting they are together because his teammates constantly rib Ilya about how much of a ladies’ man he is. Shane is just a friend. While it partly makes him jealous just thinking about the other people Ilya sleeps with when they aren’t together, he is mostly relieved that he doesn’t have to worry about ruining everything for Ilya if he even looks at him the wrong way. Every time the group does shots, Shane joins in. He’s a light-weight, though, and is easily drunk after a few hours. Ilya holds him steady as they wait for a cab to arrive. Shane leans against him and closes his eyes. “Do you sleep with a lot of girls?” Shane asks. “Lately?” “Sure.” “No.” “Why?” “I’m busy with someone else.” Shane leans in close to Ilya’s ear and whispers, “Is it me?” Ilya smiles. He is not nearly as drunk as Shane is. “Maybe,” he says just as the cab pulls up. Ilya has to help Shane get in and tells the driver where to go. Shane is struggling to get the seatbelt clicked in all the way and Ilya has to reach over and finish it for him. “Thank you,” Shane says. He scoots over enough so that he can rest his head on Ilya’s shoulder. “I love being here with you.” “I’m glad you like Boston.” “I like you.” “I like you too, Shane.”

Ilya drives him to the aquarium in one of his fancy sports cars. He revs the engine and tries to impress Shane, but Shane mostly just admires how passionate Ilya seems about it as he spews out a bunch of car nonsense that Shane doesn’t understand. Ilya plays a few Russian songs he has on a playlist that he explains he listens to before matches. Shane watches the way he bops along to the song as he flicks on the turn signal. The late morning sunlight is pouring through the windows and lighting up his face. Shane can’t help but to stare at him. Ilya pays for their tickets and gets Shane a map. They walk around slowly as groups of children run around them and scream. They point at the different fish and laugh at the funny things they hear the kids around them say. In one room with a floor to ceiling aquarium, Shane points out his favorite ones and tries his best to make Ilya laugh at his stupid jokes in the dark blue glow of the room. The whole day feels like the type of date that Shane would’ve dreamed for in high school. Ilya even buys him a keychain in the gift shop just because Shane expressed the slightest interest in it. All he wants to do is lean over and kiss Ilya and pull him into a hug. On the ride home, Ilya plays a pop song that he knows Shane likes and reaches out to place his hand on Shane’s thigh.

It’s not easy for Shane. All week, he feels like he is swallowing down a secret. He wants to confess to Ilya that despite knowing that Ilya is only interested in sex, Shane has feelings for him. He feels like a little kid with a silly crush. Ilya isn’t making it easy, though, and when they walk home from dinner the night before Shane leaves, Ilya bumps into him playfully, and their fingers touch for the smallest second. It feels like permission, like Ilya is trying to tell him that he feels the same way. Back at the apartment, Ilya kisses him once the door is closed. It’s not sexual, though. He kisses him and then slips off his shoes and puts the leftovers in the refrigerator like it was nothing. Like it was something they’ve done for years. “Ilya,” Shane says, voice wobbly. “What are we doing?” Ilya shrugs. “Whatever you want. Maybe a movie?” “No. What is this? What are we?” “Friends that have sex?” Ilya drops his gaze when he says this. “Ilya, come on. I’m sorry, but…I think I have feelings for you.” He hates that he apologizes before he admits it. He wants to take it back right after he says it. All of it. “Please,” Ilya says, voice pained. He scrubs his face. “Please don’t ruin this.” It’s the worst thing he can hear after being so worried that the way he felt would ruin what they have. “You just took me out to dinner and kissed me when we got back. All week, you’ve – “ “Why are you doing this?” He’s upset now. He’s not yelling, but Shane thinks he probably wants to but is scared the neighbors will hear. Shane is upset too, though. He blinks away tears and steps closer to Ilya. “Why are you doing this? You’ve spent the entire week acting like I’m your fucking boyfriend and then get upset when I tell you that I wish I was? How is that fair?” “It’s impossible. It can’t work.” It’s one of the worst things he can say. It makes Shane’s heart hurt because it gives him the tiniest bit of hope that Ilya feels the same way too. “Why does anyone need to know?” Shane asks desperately. Ilya starts to reach out and then pulls his hand back. Gently, he says, “I’m sorry, Shane.”

Shane sleeps on the couch because he doesn’t want to find a hotel for one night. Ilya doesn’t try to stop him. In the morning, Ilya set a coffee cup in front of Shane. Shane stares at the cup for a few moments and then up to Ilya. He is sitting across from him, jaw visibly clenched. “I don’t want to lose you,” Ilya admits. “I think we should go back to before. Pretend yesterday didn’t happen.” Shane has so much he wants to say, but all he gets out is a tired, “Sure.”

Chapter 3

Chapter Notes

i honestly could've written about them for a million more words. i'm not always great the cute, happy stuff so hopefully this is okay :) find me on tumblr @agetwellcard if you want to yell at me. When Shane steps out of the airport, he spots his father’s car immediately. He spent the entire flight putting on dumb movies trying not to cry. The last thing he wants to do is now spend a few days with his parents, especially after he already told his mother that he was basically in a relationship. He had already booked the flight tickets from Boston to Canada, though. Both of his parents get out of the car to give him hugs and help with his luggage. Shane slumps over in the backseat and refuses to take off his sunglasses. He gives his parents tight smiles and tries the hardest he can to be their usual happy son, but he knows he’s giving a bad performance. At home, he helps his mother with making dinner to keep himself from going to his bedroom and refusing to come back out. His mother keeps sending him worried glances as she stirs the pot on the burner and washes up vegetables for Shane to cut. “I take it that it didn’t go well?” she finally asks. Shane stumbles on a slice and nearly cuts his finger open. “What?” “You said you were seeing someone in Boston last week. I figured you would be in a better mood.” There is the confirmation that Shane is not selling his act. He focuses on cutting up the zucchini and mutters, “It didn’t go well.” “Did you break up?” Shane wants to laugh. He still can’t manage to meet her gaze. “We were never really together.” “Oh.” There is a moment of silence. “He’s missing out if he doesn’t want to be with you.” Shane’s head whips up, heart nearly stopping. His mother is leaning against the counter with her arms over her chest. She gives him a small smile, practically an apology. “How did you know?” “I’ve…suspected something for a while,” she says. Before Shane can defend himself, she keeps going. “There were quite a few paparazzi photos I saw online of you and another man out last week, and I just figured that was who you were talking about.” Right. Of course. He completely forgot about all the paparazzi, and didn’t even think of his mother possibly connecting the two together. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” She walks over and places a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry I assumed.” Shane stands so that they can hug. He tries his best not to cry, but when his mother pulls back and looks at him for a moment, he can feel tears on his cheeks. She hugs him again and says, “It’ll get easier.” Later that night, before Shane goes to bed, he finds the photos of them in Boston online. There are some from the two of them walking outside together, some grainy ones from a bar, and then some from the aquarium. In one, Shane is leaning towards the glass tank and Ilya is looking at Shane, a wide smile on his face.

Their texts grow further and further apart. They spend months doing exactly what Ilya wanted. When they are able to meet up, they make a hotel reservation and sleep together like no time has passed. When they text or call, their entire conversations are kept shallow. When hockey season starts back up, Ilya is even harder to get in touch with. Shane watches his games on mute while he pretends to be on his phone. He gets interviews of Ilya recommended to him on his social media, and he’ll force himself to scroll away. Shane tries to see other people because Rose suggests it, but it does nothing for him. He doesn’t feel any sort of connection, let alone what he had with Ilya. The movie he filmed last year does well when it comes out. He does press in North America and then flies over to Europe for even more. He is offered a slew of roles to audition for. His career is the best it has ever been, but Shane feels miserable because he’s constantly comparing his own calendar to Ilya’s away games and then casually suggesting days they could see each other like he didn’t just spend an hour trying to make even an hour meetup work for both of them. When Shane’s management suggests publicly coming out, Shane refuses. He doesn’t give a reason because he knows that the only reason he doesn’t want to do it is because he hopes that Ilya will eventually change his mind and they can be secretly be together. Shane feels pathetic when he thinks about it. After long autumn apart, they manage a night together in Toronto. Ilya meets him at the hotel and they fall together so easily. Ilya sucks his cock and then fucks him, almost like routine, and Shane is embarrassed by how fast he comes. When they are finished, he expects Ilya to leave right away like he’s done the last few times. Instead, he pulls the covers up over himself and frowns. “Are you okay?” Shane asks. It feels like a question he shouldn’t ask, but he can’t ignore the dark look in Ilya’s eyes. Ilya sighs. “My father died a month ago. I didn’t tell you.” “What? Jesus, Ilya, are you okay?” He nods his head. Even in the dim hotel light, Shane can see the tears welling in his eyes. Shane remembers last month when Ilya ignored almost all of his texts and they only had a short phone call where Ilya was in a bad mood. “You could’ve said no about meeting up. I would’ve understood.” Ilya looks over to him. “I wanted to see you.” Shane feels like he’s been punched in the face. He hates that Ilya can make him feel this way, that he can reach out when Shane is scared to after he messed things up, but he won’t refuse Ilya. Ever. He pulls him into his chest and lets Ilya cry quietly. They stay like that for a long time, Shane brushing back his hair and unsure of what to say.

Things don’t go back to how they were before Shane admitted his feelings for Ilya, but they do get better. They start calling every night again, and they start laughing more, and when they see each other they don’t immediately separate after they’ve fucked. Shane knows that he can’t get too invested, but it’s impossible for him to ignore Ilya and what they have together. When Christmas approaches, Ilya admits that he is spending it alone because he isn’t going back to Russia. It’s stupid, and Shane knows it, but he asks Ilya if he wants to come to Canda for Christmas. He doesn’t think he’ll say yes, but he does. They meet up at a layover in Toronto and sit next to each other on the flight to Ottawa, thighs pressed against each other. After a long debrief with his parents where he assured them that Ilya and him were not dating, he allowed his parents to come get them from the airport. Their house is all decorated for the holidays, and Ilya has fun poking through their Christmas tree and making fun of the homemade ornaments that Shane made when he was a little kid. This only prompts his mother to pull out a scrapbook and show Ilya all his funny baby pictures. Shane sees Ilya laugh more than he has all year as they flip through the book together. At the end of the first night, Shane asks his mother where Ilya is sleeping. “Oh,” she hums. “I figured your room.” Ilya lets out an amused laugh. Shane groans. “Mom, no. We’re not – he can sleep in his own room.” “I can make up the guest bed for him.” “No, it’s fine. I can do it. Thank you, goodnight.” “Goodnight, Mrs. Hollander!” “Please, it’s Yuna.” “Goodnight, Yuna!” Shane gives him an annoyed look and then starts digging through the linen closet for sheets. Ilya helps him make the bed in the guest room next to his. Ilya stuffs a pillow into a Toy Story pillowcase because it was all Shane could find and says, “I would’ve slept in your room with you.” “I know,” Shane tells him. “I just feel like my parents are treating you like you’re my boyfriend.” Ilya sets the pillow down slowly. “I’m sorry.” After they make the bed and Shane makes sure that Ilya is set for the night, he lingers in the doorway. Although it feels like they are right back where trouble started, Shane can’t help but to feel so grateful to have Ilya with him. “I’m really happy you’re here, Ilya.” “Me too.”

On Christmas Eve, Ilya sneaks into Shane’s room after everyone has gone to sleep and slips into Shane’s bed. He kisses Shane and holds the back of his head sweetly. He’s worried he’ll have to tell Ilya that he refuses to have sex at his parents’ house, but Ilya doesn’t grab for him. He simply presses another kiss on his cheek and the nuzzles his face into the crook of Shane’s neck. “Thank you for inviting me,” he says. Shane pulls Ilya even closer and rubs a thumb absently along his skin. “Of course.” “I’ve never had this,” Ilya says quietly. “Any of this. Your family is so normal and nice.” Shane hates to think of Ilya’s life in Russia. He wishes Ilya would’ve had more, like what Shane has. “I’m pretty sure my mom expects you to come again every year now.” Ilya huffs a laugh out of his nose. “I want that.” “I do, too.” “Shane. I need you to know that I never wanted to hurt you. I wanted what you wanted. I really did.” Shane can’t hear this now. He can’t hear it while they are pressed against each other in his childhood room after spending the day like they have been married for years. He knows he is only hurting himself by letting all of this happen, but he hates the thought that Ilya is hurting with want just as much as he does. “I don’t want to be a secret.” Shane says it because he knows it’s the only thing he can say to keep Ilya from saying more. He would be a secret for the rest of his life if that is what keeps him and Ilya together, but he doesn’t want it if it will only hurt Ilya in the end. He thinks, after Christmas I can do end this for real. “Okay,” Ilya spits out after a few minutes. Unexpectedly, Ilya kisses him again and then says, “Merry Christmas, Shane.” Ilya slips out from the blankets and then out the door. Shane hears the creak of the guest room door and blinks away tears.

Shane doesn’t end it. He can’t. Instead, they fall back into their routine. They completely ignore the conversation they had on Christmas Eve. They meet in random cities and fuck in hotel rooms. They compete with how long the other can linger before they leave the room. It feels like they are doing a balancing act when they are together, and Shane can’t keep up. He’s constantly struggling with testing what seems okay and what crosses the line into the type of relationship they aren’t allowed to have. One weekend, when they are all in New York City, Rose demands to meet Ilya. They meet at a café not far from their hotel. Despite how much Shane knows that Rose is probably excited to meet Ilya Rozanov, she doesn’t seem very happy at all when he walks in. He looks handsome in a jean jacket with his hair slightly longer than usual. Shane stands and hugs him. He can’t help it. Ilya hugs back. It’s quick and friendly. Nothing more. “It’s nice to meet you,” he says to Rose. She stares at him. “You too.” Shane tries to keep their conversations light. Rose has disapproved of Ilya for months now. She has told him over and over that Ilya is never going to change his ways. Shane doesn’t tell her, but he thinks it’s too complicated for her to understand. He wants to ask how she would feel if she was suddenly shunned in the acting world all for a relationship she was having. Shane doesn’t, though. When Ilya hands his coffee over to Shane to try after Shane asks how it is, Rose gives him a long look as he takes a sip. “You guys are so cute,” she says. “When is the wedding?” “Rose, please,” Shane warns. Ilya gives him a guilty look. Before they leave, Shane excuses himself to the bathroom. When he comes back out, Rose is leaned in talking quietly to Ilya. The second she sees Shane, she straightens up and sends him a bright smile. Shane regrets the entire meetup. “Please don’t listen to her,” Shane tells Ilya. Rose has to take a cab across the city, so she hugs them both before heading off. It leaves Shane and Ilya alone on the streets of New York City. “It’s nice out,” Shane says. “Do you wanna walk back to my hotel?” Ilya nods but doesn’t say anything. “I’m sorry if she was hard on you. She’s protective, I guess.” “She’s right.” Shane swallows thickly. “You told me what you wanted when we first met.” It’s like a mantra for Shane. He knew the boundary and he crossed it. They walk in silence for a few blocks. He has always loved visiting New York City. He loves walking down the streets and hearing people speak a different language every block. He loves the energy. After a freezing winter, he can practically feel the warm, late afternoon sunshine in his bones. He feels like he can start again. “Rose told me that I need to decide,” Ilya finally says as they round a corner. Shane shrugs like it means nothing. “You don’t have to.” Ilya reaches out and grabs for Shane. He holds Shane’s hand and pulls them into an empty alleyway. “I know I’m hurting you.” Shane almost tries to pretend like it’s nothing. He knows Ilya is hurting, too. They both usually just ignore it. “I’m sorry. I don’t want this anymore.” Shane has been fearing this for so long. He still doesn’t know what to say. Ilya tightens his grip on Shane’s hand. “Shane, look at me.” Shane forces himself to. “I love you. So fucking much. I need you to know.” “I love you, too,” Shane says instantly, automatically. Although they’ve never said it out loud, the weight of their feelings has been hanging over them for months. The words nearly make him double over, though. “I don’t want to lose you. Don’t care about anything else.” Ilya leans forward and kisses Shane. They only stop because Shane is suddenly smiling so hard. Ilya sees his face and starts laughing. The two of them press into each other and laugh into each other’s necks. Shane wants to start thinking through everything, all the minute details, but he tries to keep himself in the moment. “I love you,” Shane says again because he can.

In the hotel, Ilya is unusually careful with Shane. He doesn’t mind, though. He holds him down and kisses his neck and down his chest. When Shane arches into his touch, he grabs for his hands, entwining their fingers. Once they are done, Ilya presses into him, face on Shane’s chest. “Wanted this for so long,” Ilya tells him quietly. “Me too.” “I’m scared, though,” Ilya admits. “I’m fucking scared about…everything.” “No one has to know.” Shane has never minded being a secret if it meant that Ilya’s life would be easier. “I don’t know how long I would need.” “That’s okay. We can figure it out.” Ilya sighs. It doesn’t sound annoyed. Shane thinks maybe it’s relief. “I’ve wasted so much time.” Shane leans down and kisses the top of his head. “Can you stay the night?” “Please.”

Shane wakes up before Ilya. He smiles to himself as he presses into him. They had gone to bed early last night, the two of them suddenly exhausted. Shane reaches over to grab his phone to see what time is it. Before he can even register how late it is, he realizes his phone is full of notifications. He tries not to disturb Ilya as he rushes to open his messages. He skims the messages as fast as he can, but most of the recent ones are some form of are you okay? He clicks onto the messages from his mother and finds it’s strangely cryptic. Mom: I hope you are doing okay. I’m happy for you but please give me a call when you get this. Love you! Shane clicks to his messages with Rose. Rose: holy shit Rose: did you see this? Rose: please respond Rose: i’m sorry shane Shane sits up in bed, nudging Ilya aside, and clicks on the link that Rose sent. It goes to a shitty gossip website. There are a slew of photographs of Shane and Ilya. The first few are from the café with Rose, then the two of them walking to the hotel together. The last photos are the two of them kissing and hugging and laughing. Shane feels sick. “Fuck, fuck,” he mutters. He tries to gently wake Ilya up, but he is already sitting up himself. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t see them.” Ilya squints at him for a moment and then looks over to Shane’s phone. He takes it from his hand and scrolls through the page a few times. He doesn’t say anything for a long time. “It’s not your fault,” Ilya tells him slowly, locking the phone and putting it down. Shane can tell he’s nervous. His voice wobbles. “I kissed you.” Shane runs a hand through his hair. “What are we going to do?” Ilya leans back into his pillow and sighs. “Coffee. We need coffee.” “We can order room service.” “No,” Ilya tells him. “Let’s go walk to one.” “Walk?” “Unless you don’t want to.” “Are you okay?” Shane asks, confused. “Shane,” Ilya says. “I told you yesterday. I’m scared but…I picked you. I don’t want for people to think I’m embarrassed or hiding. Let’s go get coffee together.” Shane grabs for his hand. It’s slightly sweaty. “Are you sure?” Ilya nods and squeezes Shane’s hand.

Shane’s mother rolls out dough on the countertops that are covered with flour. Ilya watches curiously, fiddling with a few of the cookie cutters in front of him. “Have you never made cookies?” Shane asks him. “Not Christmas cookies.” Shane’s mother scoffs. “Shane, have you ever made the dough before?” He feels his face grow red. “Well, no. But I’ve decorated them before.” “I hope you can cook,” Shane’s father says from the other side of the kitchen. “Shane only knows how to make chicken and rice.” Ilya laughs at him, bumping his foot into Shane’s from under the counter. The two of them are only visiting for a week for the holidays. Ilya babbled about all things that they could do together almost the entire flight over. When his parents picked them up from the airport, Ilya had yelled, “David! Yuna! Long time, no see.” After the photographs of them came out, they decided to embrace it. There wasn’t much else left to do. Although it was easier for Shane, and it wasn’t always easy for Ilya, they had each other to lean back on. Shane came out publicly, something that would have terrified him years ago. He was embraced, though. Ilya picks up the angel cookie cutter and starts to cut into some of the dough. “You can decorate this one,” Ilya says, pointing to the dough. “Do my face.” Shane rolls his eyes and his mother laughs obnoxiously loud. Later on, when everyone is getting ready for bed, Shane and Ilya slip into Shane’s bedroom. Ilya sits down on the bed and gestures for Shane to come over. He slides between Ilya’s open legs, the two of them slotting together for a hug. Ilya presses his face into Shane’s shirt. “Are you happy?” he asks suddenly. Shane looks down at him. “Of course. Are you?” “Yes.” He smiles. “So fucking happy.” Please drop by the Archive and comment to let the creator know if you enjoyed their work!