Rating:

Explicit

Archive Warning:

No Archive Warnings Apply

Category:

M/M

Fandom:

Heated Rivalry (TV)

Relationship:

Shane Hollander/Ilya Rozanov

Characters:

Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov, Original Children of Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov, Original Female Character(s)

Additional Tags:

Single Parent Ilya Rozanov, Rich Shane Hollander, Protective Ilya Rozanov, Protective Shane Hollander, Ilya Rozanov is Good With Children, Shane Hollander is Good With Children, Ilya Rozanov is Shane Hollander's baby, Autistic Shane Hollander, Domestic Fluff, Family Fluff, Shane Hollander The Stepfather Who Stepped Up, Car Mechanic Ilya Rozanov, a little bit of sugar daddy levels of spoiling the random grindr man shane finds hot, Moving In Together

Language:

English

Series:

Part 3 of Single girl-dad Ilya Rozanov & Rich Shane Hollander

Stats:

Published: 2026-05-11 Updated: 2026-06-09 Words: 49,263 Chapters: 5/6

I'm Not Lookin' For Somebody With Some Superhuman Gifts

Summary

---
SHANE
➥ We can resign the paperwork in your name.
➥ I mean, you could pick a new car, but there's hardly any place for another one, unless you get rid of yours. I have some contacts with car dealers in the area. I doubt it you want a Jeep, though?

ILYA
➥ hmmmmm
➥ if i say i want a porsche will you buy me porsche

SHANE
➥ A sports one? No. They drive too fast.
➥ But a regular one, sure. What colour?

ILYA
➥ well my main concern was that they cost as much as a fucking house baby, but
➥ orange?

SHANE
➥ I can look around.

ILYA
➥ wait no
➥ no
➥ shane
➥ dont
---
or: a year into dating, ilya and his daughter move in with shane, and a long week of fuck-ups and bad luck follows.

Notes

hi hello welcome to part 3 of this series! the last 2 got sooo much love, thank you so so much! as requested, we have the move-in, shane's pov, and soon enough, raisa meeting her grandparents :)) i also wanted to explore more of shane's life in this au, and how even when you really love someone, things can get overwhelming. this is probably the most stressed out you've seen him in this scenario, and it's only Monday.
as always, thank you for your love in the comments! i'll try to finish this up swiftly and post every chapter :)

Chapter 1: Monday's are for move-ins!

Chapter Notes

The moving company sent them just one small van after a quick talk with Ilya. 

Shane had insisted it wouldn't be enough. When he found the company, he wanted to book an actual moving truck. This van would be enough simply to transport everything in one go, but really, if they could fit their things in it, they could as well use Shane's car and do two or three round-trips. Same thing. They should get a proper truck.

He complained about Ilya's stubbornness under his nose as he helped him arrange the boxes in the living room of Ilya's soon-to-be former flat. Ilya didn't try to argue with him. He just whistled some melody, putting the boxes together, calm, in a good mood.

"I'm telling you there won't be enough space." Shane sighed again, looking at the boxes. "I should've just booked the truck straight away."

"We don't need a truck, sweetheart." Ilya leaned to kiss him softly, smiling. "Relax."

There's just no way it would be enough space. No way. And the moving guys were already running late, and Shane had classes later, and he needed to study in the evening, so the prospect of needing a few trips to get all this into his apartment was truly awful to him. 

Ilya understood it the wrong way.

"I can pay for the second trip, if we need to do one." He offered, and Shane shook his head.

"It's not that. Don't even think about it."

Money wasn't a problem; the additional fee included in the bill if they had to do a few rounds barely existed in Shane's consciousness. The time window was shrinking. The van was too fucking small, and Ilya was way too calm about it. 

Shane has planned this to perfection, everything, since the moment Ilya agreed on moving in with his daughter, Shane created a list of things he needed to change about the apartment, furniture to buy or remove, researched multiple moving companies, had a copy of his keys made, formally let the board council of his building know he will have two more tenants now. The timeline for this week had a separate little Excel sheet on his Google Drive.

It was Monday. Ilya and Raisa's move-in day. Final class of his neuropsychology programme. A long study session in the evening, which he already dreaded, because he'll have to sit down in his office on the first night of Ilya and Raisa living with him, and now, because the movers were running late, he was also running late, and he'd have to stay up longer to catch up.

Tuesday, Raisa had a field trip at daycare, and he offered to drop her off and pick her up. He had classes all day, and one meeting with his mother's acquaintance about shareholders in a small, young firm that David had bought last month. Shane was still dealing with the smaller endeavours, he had the experience for it, the papers, the trust of his parents, so the meeting was more of a formality. David wanted him to place an offer to buy out 51% of the holdings at a fairly reasonable price, and then, they could manage this firm before it runs itself into the ground with way too many people constantly changing their minds about the development strategy. 

He still needed to research the field better. Add that to tonight's to-do list.

Wednesday, he has the last and most important final of the year, the last exam he needs to pass before summer break, and the fourth year of his second degree. Two more years, and he'll be done with psychology, and should be able to enroll in law with no issues.

Thursday, no classes, thank God, just a few things he needed to handle at his parents' firm, and if Tuesday's meeting goes well, he'll start working with that company. He'll have to look into marketing, they definitely need a rebrand. Maybe call a few of the employees, see if they really are fit for the job, or just happened to be the CEO's nephew, who's no doubt hardworking and a quick learner.

Friday. 

Friday, the results for his final exam will be sent over, and he has invited his parents for dinner.

It was a fitting occasion. Finishing third year, closing a deal his dad was very passionate about, and getting them to meet Raisa, finally.

They already met Ilya, but it felt much less formal back then, and it was at their house, Shane's childhood home. He brought Ilya for dinner, introducing his boyfriend to his parents, because at last he had someone good enough to show off. Ilya was adorably nervous about the whole deal, but quickly settled in, and Shane's parents liked him. That was months ago now, though, and besides a few coincidental meetings when they run into Shane's parents together or met for a coffee, they haven't sat down for a full evening again.

It was much less serious back then. Even if he truly cared for Ilya, as he did, and wanted it all to work out, they were simply dating. He had a boyfriend, and that boyfriend happened to have a child, and it was fine. Now, said boyfriend and said child were moving in with Shane, and Shane tried not to panic at how the first thing Yuna said after he told her, over the phone, was Oh. So soon?

Soon, not soon, it was serious now. Ilya was not a fling, a phase, a casual presence in his life. Ilya and Raisa were going to live with Shane. It's about time he introduces his second favorite person to his parents.

Saturday, Raisa had her skating lessons, and thankfully, that would be the last point of the week he needed to cover. Last big one, anyway. They still needed groceries, and he wanted to help unpack, and shit, Raisa's new desk was arriving today as well, he forgot for a moment.

The moving company employees finally graced them with their time, and showed up. They packed everything in twenty minutes. 

The van was barely half-full.

Shane stared at it as they closed the door, hearing Ilya's chuckle.

"Oh, we need a truck?" Ilya clicked his tongue. "Really?"

"Shut up." Shane sighed with relief, a smile forming on his lips against his will when Ilya leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

"I told you I barely have stuff to move. No furniture. Clothes, Raisa's toys, and three pots."

There were, obviously, a few more things. The biggest one was the TV Ilya claimed he wanted to bring, even if it was old and small, he paid for it and refused to part ways with the thing. Ultimately, they could just use one of Shane's cars. Put the backseats down, and maybe they'd manage to do it all in one go, too.

"Alright. Alright, let's go." Shane pulled on Ilya's hand to go to his car. "Stop bragging about being right."

"Oh, but I was! I was so right. As always."

"Sure."

Ilya grinned at him, opening the door for Shane. He puckered his lips as Shane reached it, waiting for a kiss. Shane rolled his eyes with a smile and gave him one before sitting in the passenger's seat.

It felt a bit weird sometimes, he was usually the one driving. More often than not, he insisted on taking one of his cars instead of Ilya's rusty old machine that threatened to break down in the middle of the road.

He inspected the dashboard as Ilya started the car.

"When do you want to leave for the cottage?"

Ilya shrugged softly.

"I don't know. I haven't gotten an answer on my leave yet."

"What? Seriously? When did you ask for it?"

"Uh." Ilya chuckled. "Like, four days ago."

Shane groaned.

"I've been telling you to do that for two weeks, Ilya."
"I know, I forgot. Sorry." He reached for Shane's hand, gently interlacing their fingers. "You start summer break soon, anyway, we'll go as soon as I get my two weeks off. Will be good for settling in at your place if we wait a bit."

"Well, can you give me a date?"

"I will, when I get it. Don't worry." He lifted Shane's hand to kiss the top of it. "You will be the first one to know, yes?"

Shane nodded, trying to focus on the city moving behind the window.

He spent most of his summer at his cottage, but now, there were so many more things involved in the process. Ilya needed to have his leave approved at his job, and they will be bringing Raisa along, so the packing will be much more important, and he already had a ton of activities prepared for her and was still worried that she would be bored after two days. She was a lively child. A smart one, too, and so, so sweet, like her dad. 

The thought of the girl eased his mind a little bit, and he smiled, not even that upset with being wrong about the van. Ilya's hand was warm and firm against his, his fingers always calloused or covered in tiny cuts, sometimes wrapped in band-aids, from injuring himself at the workshop.

He's seen Ilya work a few times now, and the memories were enough to make him blush instantly. He traced his thumb against a small scar on Ilya's knuckle, hating how often his hands had to pay for diving into car engines, and, simultaneously, loving just how hot Ilya always looked while working.

He was still humming something as they stopped behind the moving van at a red light. Shane looked at him, squinting his eyes in the sun that poured into the car from Ilya's side, highlighting his profile and turning his curls golden.

"What?" Ilya hummed, glancing at him with a soft smirk. "Enjoying the view?"

He lifted their hands again, biting Shane's knuckles gently, and making Shane giggle.

"Yes, maybe."

"Ah, maybe. Okay."

"We're not going to the cottage with this car, right?" Shane looked around again, hoping to change the subject and make Ilya focus on the road, so he could stare at him without objections.

"Why not?"

"Ilya."

Ilya laughed, dropping the joke immediately.

"No, we can take one of yours." He agreed. "Is a long ride. We need space for Raisa's things, too. Maybe a moving truck."

"Very funny."

"No, no, two moving trucks. You think that will be enough?" He shifted in his seat, proud as ever, snorting when Shane swatted his shoulder. "You are beating me already? I haven't even moved in yet. Is this domestic violence?"

Shane huffed, leaning in to kiss the spot he supposedly abused. More like, moved Ilya's flannel shirt a bit to the right than abused, but sure.

"There, happy?"

"Aha. I see. You buy me gifts and kiss me after, so I don't leave. Is tactic."

Shane tilted his head.

"You're joking, right?"

"Yeah. I'm joking." Ilya lifted his shoulder. "But you have to kiss it again. I'm not sure it worked."

He kissed the spot again.

"There."

"That's better." Ilya purred. "What time is your class today?"

"Uh, in an hour and a half. Do you think we'll manage to unpack everything?"

"Don't worry about it." Ilya scratched his nose with his free hand when they stopped behind the truck, waiting for it to park. "You said you needed to study?"

"Well, yeah, but…"

"I can unpack. Is my stuff, anyway."

"I promised you I'll help."

"You did." Ilya nodded slowly. "But I didn't ask you to. We talked about this, baby. Remember?"

Shane stayed quiet and watched as Ilya parked in his brand-new spot in the outside parking lot of Shane's building. He put one arm behind the passenger seat as he looked through the back window, turning to park backwards.

"Shane?"

Shane blinked.

"Hm? What?"

"You didn't answer me."

"Oh, sorry." Shane shook his head, as if that could help clear out his mind. "Yeah, yeah, I remember. If you don't ask, I shouldn't nag you."

"No. That's not what I said." Ilya chuckled. "If I don't ask, you don't have to do it. Even if I do ask, you don't have to do it, but you are so good to me, you always do everything I want."

Shane rolled his eyes at the cheeky tone.

"Not everything."

"You know what I mean. I'm already spoiled, let me unpack on my own. You have school today." Ilya parked and turned the engine off, leaning over to Shane to give him a kiss. "If I need help, I'll ask you to help. Okay?"

Shane nodded.

"Okay."

It was easier said than done.

He tried organising his notes in his office, and Ilya kept walking by in the corridor, whistling, putting boxes away. He was in an excellent mood. Shane was not.

He was used to being here alone, and so, his shoulders jumped up slightly at every noise, which, with all the boxes being shoved around, opened and tucked away, was…a lot of noise. He considered closing the door of the office, but that would probably be rude, right? Just hiding himself in here while Ilya did all the work. Besides, every five or ten minutes, Ilya stopped by to ask where he should put a specific item. Shane had a very organised house.

Not so organised notes. He was searching for a paper he did last term to go through it during today's class, and couldn't find it. Time was moving mercilessly. 

He almost didn't hear the doorbell with all the noise Ilya was producing. 

"I'll get it!" He shouted from the office, tripping over all the books he janked out of his desk and shelves in search of the stupid paper. Ilya nodded, carrying Raisa's bowls and plates to the kitchen. "Can you put it away?"

"You mean in cupboard? Yes. I will sort it out later."

"No, I mean…" Shane cursed quietly, walking into another box. "So it's not on the counter?"

"Why not?"

Shane managed to get to the door somehow and opened it, panting quietly. The delivery guy handed him a tablet to place his signature straight away.

"Mr Hollander?"

"Yes, yes." Shane scribbled his name onto the tablet, looking at the massive box. "Thank you."

He hoped the guy would carry the box inside, but he just took the tablet back and disappeared, leaving Shane in the doorframe with what would become Raisa's new desk. He spent a small fortune on it, but it was supposed to be regulated with a remote, starting from the lowest setting, so she could use it while she was still so small, and moving up as she grew. Oak. Shelves on top, drawers, a meter and a half long, and fucking heavy.

"I will sort it all out when I find everything from kitchen." Ilya said from somewhere deeper in the apartment. "I still have a few boxes."

Shane clenched his jaw, pushing the package on the floor and closing the door at last.

He wanted to ask Ilya to put the plates away the second he found them, so they wouldn't lie on the counter for God knows how many hours. That would slow down the unpacking, but the place would be usable, at least, and he already dreaded how everything was everywhere.

When he moved in here, he spent eight hours opening one box after the other, and not moving forward, before he had a completely empty cardboard box that he could fold and put away. Ilya didn't mark the boxes, so every single one was open and half-empty, half-full, bathroom essentials packed with clothes, tableware squeezed between Raisa's toys.

"Okay." Shane just exhaled. 

It doesn't matter. It doesn't matter in the slightest, in the end, this will all be put into place, and he'll have a corridor that's walkable again. Ilya was so happy all day, there's no need to ruin this for him.

"Whoa, wait!" Ilya stopped at the end of the hallway with robes in his hands. Why did he need to take care of robes now, when his electronics were still all tangled somewhere on the floor? "Shane, wait, let me help."

"I'm fine." Shane groaned, pushing the package into Raisa's new room. He rolled his eyes as Ilya dropped the robes and ran up to him, parkouring over the mess. "I got it, really."

"Yeah, sure." Ilya grabbed the package from the other side and pulled it firmly, and, yes, alright, it was fairly easier to move this with someone else around. "Where?"

"Uh, maybe by the bed? There's some space."

They moved the giant box by the bed, and Shane wiped his face as he could straighten up again. 

"Okay. Thanks. Do you have the knife?"

The knife, the singular, wide blade Shane kept around for opening all packages, which was now delegated to Ilya, so he could cut through all the tape. Ilya scratched his head, looking around in the corridor.

"I left it somewhere."

"How am I supposed to open this without a knife?"

"I'll bring one from kitchen."

"What? No!" Shane called after him. "No, it will dull it, kitchen knives are not for cardboards, Ilya!"

"Will be fine!" Ilya yelled back. "I give you one of my knives."

Shane lowered his shoulders and raised his face to the ceiling. 

There were things all over the place. He still needed to find that stupid paper he tucked away somewhere, and his office was a mess, and now he'll have to dull a knife on this enormous package, and he felt like crying.

What the fuck?

He rubbed his eyes slowly, taking a deep breath. He fucking hated move-ins, his own or otherwise, there was always so much to do, and for the majority of the time, it was a muddle.

"I have knife for you." Ilya came back with a smile that slowly faded as Shane looked at him. "Are you okay?"

"Mhm." Shane forced a reassuring little nod. He reached for the knife. "Thank you."

Ilya handed him the tool with suspicious eyes.

"You can leave it, I'll do it later. You have school."

"No, I promised Raisa I'll put it together."

"Shane…"

"It's fine. Really." He nodded again, turning to cut the tape at the top of the giant box. "I'll handle it."

Ilya leaned in to kiss the side of his head, which helped. A little bit, but still, Shane breathed in deeper, opening the box.

"Tell me if you need help, okay?" Ilya asked. 

"I don't need help."

"Tell me anyway."

Shane snorted as Ilya patted his ass lightly before walking back to the chaos that was Shane's kitchen right now.

No, their kitchen. Ilya was living here as well.

The desk was a fucking nightmare to put together.

The instruction said twenty to thirty minutes. Shane had to undo the whole thing twice, his screwdriver was constantly falling out of his hands and smacking against the floor with a nasty sound. When he managed to put it together for the first time, the desk wasn't working. It was stuck on one level when it was supposed to move up and down.

He hit the remote against his hand, frantically checking his watch. This stupid furniture was going to make him scream. He was boiling. Tape pieces stuck to his feet as he walked around the room, the cardboard almost made him slip and fall, there was styrofoam all over the carpet, and it stuck to his clothes, and he had four screws left when he should have zero.

By some divine miracle and some frustrated tears, he made the desk work and pushed it against the wall. He didn't even have time to appreciate it as he tried to clean up the remains of the package, and he hit himself in the face with a piece of foam. 

He groaned as he walked with the trash to the kitchen, frowning at the many plastic bags left everywhere.

"Ilya!"

"Hm?" Ilya looked up at him, currently sorting out Raisa's books on the floor. "Yes?"

"Can't you clean up as you go?" Shane put the trash on the floor and started segregating it. His trash cans probably won't manage to swallow so much junk. "You know where the trash cans are."

"I thought I will just put it in a bag and get it downstairs."

"No, it's Monday." Shane sighed. "The trash is collected on Wednesdays."

Ilya blinked at him.

"The bag can't wait?"

"No, there's rules in this building, you take out the trash on Tuesday evenings."

"Oh. Okay." Ilya shrugged. "I will clean up."

And then he left the stack of books and started collecting the ripped plastic bags left all over the floor. Shane punched the styrofoam into the correct trash can.

"No, you can, you…the books…whatever." 

Ilya frowned.

"You wanted me to clean up."

"Deal with the books first!"

"Hey." Ilya chuckled, obviously trying to lessen this sudden tension Shane was throwing up on him. "Don't order me around, Shanya."

He walked up to him slowly, putting the trash away as Shane looked at his watch.

"I have to go."

Ilya clicked his tongue at him, grabbing his waist to stop him from running back to his office.

"Breathe first."

"I'm gonna be late."

"Shane."

Shane looked at him, breathing shakily. This was absurd. He couldn't focus on anything but the fact that half of his apartment looked like a warzone.

"I'm gonna clean up and sort plates into your pretty cupboards, yes?" Ilya raised his eyebrows, circling his thumbs on Shane's hips. "I'm a big boy."

Shane snorted, relaxing a little bit under his touch.

"I know you are." He hummed back, letting Ilya kiss him slowly. He smiled, at last, breathing. "Sorry."

"Is okay. Is stressful, yes?"

"I want to help more."

"You made Raisa's desk. You helped a lot."

"I didn't make it, I put it together."

"Eh. Same thing."

Shane exhaled with a soft laugh, closing his eyes again as Ilya kissed his cheek.

"Now go to uni and be great as always." Ilya squeezed his hips before letting him go. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

"And eat something, you're grumpy."

"Asshole."

Ilya stuck his tongue out and grinned at Shane's eye-roll.

Shane didn't find the paper in time. He had to go without it, so he'll stay up later at night, highlighting details for his notes.

He was late to class, for the first time ever, possibly.

Three whole minutes! He almost turned to flames from shame as he awkwardly sneaked in, finding an empty place in the back of the classroom and sitting down with a deep sigh.

He didn't get to eat anything until the end of the first lecture, two hours after he got to his university. He was starving. Words kept escaping him, and he couldn't focus on the topics being discussed when he should, since this last bit was a summary of everything that would be on the exam. He took some notes, but they barely made any sense. He drank water to stop the rumbling in his stomach and had to pee, so that's great. Fucking amazing.

Hayden texted him if he was up for a beer later. In the hockey team group chat, they still had, even if Shane was slowly drifting away from the sport, with how much his actual life demanded from him. He used to play every week when he was studying business, but now, he goes to maybe two games per term. He was getting out of shape. Soon, he'll have to drop it completely, and he couldn't stop feeling guilty about it, but his passion didn't fit in with his lifestyle anymore.

Hayden
➥Yo, Shane, we're going to Mohabbots tonight!!!

It wasn't even a real question. More of a statement. Shane texted back, half-listening to the lecture.

Shane
➥I can't guys, sorry, it's move-in day.

JJ
➥oh so you got a man and kid at home and you ditch us already?

Shane
➥Another time.

Hayden
➥Booohoooo!!!
➥Tell Ilya I hate him for stealing you from us.

Shane
➥I won't tell him that.
➥I want to stay home tonight anyway, I gotta study.

JJ
➥yeah study some domestic di-

Shane huffed and put his phone away before he even finished reading the message.

He wasn't sure if he would squeeze in a proper dinner, let alone sex. Ilya was probably exhausted already anyway.

He grabbed a coffee and a snack from the machine in the corridor, waiting for the next lecture. Some of his colleagues wanted to talk to him about the exam, but he excused himself and hid in a darker corridor to call Ilya.

Ilya took some time with picking up the phone, of course.

"Hello, solnyshko. Are you finished with your classes?"

"Not yet, I have another lecture in ten minutes or so." Shane sighed. "How are things at home?"

A warm, fuzzy feeling spread over him at the words. Ilya shared a home with him now. He could just…ask about it. Everyday. 

Ilya was living with him. Somewhere in the mess of the day, the realisation got lost, and Shane couldn't grasp it fully.

"Things are good." Ilya purred with a proud edge to his voice. "I cleaned up. I am good boyfriend like this."

"You sure are." Shane smiled to himself, pacing the corridor with his head low. "Listen, I'm sorry about being…bitchy today."

"I like you bitchy."

"I'm serious."

"Is okay. I bring my mess to your home…"

"Our home now."

"Yes. Our home." Ilya chuckled. "I bring my mess, and you think I am messy."

Shane frowned.

"What? No, of course not. I know how put-together you are, I've seen your flat, I just…we have very different methods of unpacking."

When he said it out loud, it sounded silly. He almost screamed and cried because of it today. Because Ilya chose to do this room by room, not box by box, as if the end result wouldn't be exactly the same.

Ilya hummed quietly.

"My methods make you bitchy?"

"Sometimes. It's just a weird day." Shane pressed his fingers to his pulsing temple. "I'm very happy about all this, you know that, right?"

Ilya stayed quiet for a moment.

"Yes."

That didn't sound so confident. Shane felt a weird twist in his chest, a cold wave going over him, he didn't mean to make Ilya feel unwelcome.

"Ilya? I mean it."

"Yeah, I know." Ilya said quickly, without much energy behind it. "Thank you for Raisa's desk. She will love it."

"You think so?" Shane, unfortunately, caught the bait in milliseconds. "If you look at the instructions, there's a little lamp built in by the shelves, and you can control it with the remote. The settings are on, uh, page twenty-something. There's five different colors, I was thinking about buying some matching lightbulbs to replace the others in her room? We can sync it up with an app, make it very dim or very bright, blue, green, yellow, pink, whatever she wants. It would be good for bedtime to keep the lights low. Do you want me to send you a link?"

Ilya was smiling, Shane could hear it in his voice.

"Link for lightbulbs?"

"Yes, from Ikea. They're environmentally friendly, too. Or, energy-saving, at least, that's what it says on the page."

"I love you very much." Ilya took a deeper breath, continuing before Shane could ask, dumbfounded, where this was suddenly coming from. "Yes, send me link, baby."

"Okay." Shane murmured, still a bit confused. "I think I have to go to my class now, but can you text me when you pick Raisa up from daycare? I want to know if she likes the desk."

"Yes, I will."

"Alright, love you."

"Hey!" Ilya grunted, sulky. "Excuse me?"

Shane huffed and closed his eyes at the entitled tone.

"I love you." He corrected. He tried imitating Ilya's accent. "Very much."

"Mhm. Better. Have fun at your lecture."

"Have fun unpacking."

"Funny. Funny Hollander today."

"Idiot."

Ilya made a kissy sound, and with that, Shane had to finally hang up.

He sent Ilya the link and sat through the other lecture, no longer distracted by hunger, but by the approaching evening instead.

Ilya and Raisa visited him many times, often with sleepovers, it wouldn't be exactly new to tuck Raisa into bed in the guest room and cuddle with Ilya under the covers in the main bedroom. Now, there was no time limit, no until Monday, no borrowing Ilya clothes to wear around the house, since Ilya had his own there already. This was a dream for so long, Shane still wasn't sure he was fully awake as it happened.

He loved Ilya more than he ever loved anyone.

He loved being with him, having him as his boyfriend, he loved Raisa, loved sharing their dates with her around, planning activities, taking her skating. Taking care of them both. Watching Ilya smile at the gifts Shane bought him. Hearing Raisa's daycare stories with bated breath, asking for more details as Ilya made them dinner.

He half-listened to the teacher, smiled at Ilya's texts about how Raisa was supposedly "jumping to the ceiling" about the desk. Nonsense. She was way too small to reach Shane's tall ceilings.

He yawned as he drove back to the apartment, too focused on getting back home quickly to notice there weren't any dinner plans made yet. He thought about the trash overflowing instead. 

For the first time ever, he walked into his home, and the lights were on, voices emerging from the kitchen, the faint smell of something delicious being cooked.

"I'm home!" He shouted, trying not to smile too widely. The corridor was empty! He could walk through it again! The boxes were gone and forgotten! He wanted to dance with excitement at that. Hallway rescued!

"Shane!"

A smudge of flapping limbs and blonde hair rushed towards him and jumped into his arms, giggling. He hugged Raisa tightly, picking her up with an exaggerated groan.

"Ah, you're so heavy!" He swung her around, making her laugh more. "Did you grow overnight again?"

"Yes!" Raisa beamed at him. "Papa is making food."

"Oh, shit, I forgot. Jesus! Sorry." He chuckled as Raisa put her hand over his mouth at the swear word. "Apologies, young lady. It's been a long day."

He put her back down, attempting to take his shoes off as Raisa pulled at his sleeve.

"You made my desk." She pointed at her room as if Shane hadn't seen it yet. "It's so big."

"Yeah, do you like it?"

"I love it!"

"Good." He ruffled her hair and put his jacket away. "Wait, I'll just wash my hands and join you, okay?"

Raisa frowned, following him.

"Can I come?"

"Uh, to wash my hands with me? Sure." He shrugged, letting her into the bathroom. He was stared at as he turned the sink on. "Very fascinating, is it?"

Raisa was all giddy, already telling him what a nice day she had, throwing in Russian words he couldn't understand. She was on his heels all the way to the kitchen, where Ilya was cutting vegetables in his ridiculous, kiss-the-cook apron.

"Hi." Ilya looked at them both. "I see Rai found you."

Raisa pointed at the corridor.

"He was outside!"

"Yes, baby, he was at school." Ilya laughed, purring when Shane peeked over his shoulder, pressing a soft kiss to the Russian's neck. "Missed me?"

"Always." Shane sighed deeply, wrapping an arm around Ilya's waist. Ilya had no business looking this good in their kitchen, flour spread over his apron, some on his cheek. "You look cute."

Ilya bumped their heads together. 

"I am housewife now."

"Shut up. What are you making?"

"Chicken, pasta, fried veggies." He smirked at Shane's questionable hum. "Cooked?"

"Healthier."

"Cooked it is." Ilya pointed at the counter with broccoli. "I made you coffee."

Shane squeezed his hip before getting his hands on the cup.

"You're perfect."

"Perfect housewife."

Shane checked his watch as he sat down to talk with Raisa again. He should be studying already, but what was he supposed to do? He couldn't skip the first dinner they had together as a family.

Well, maybe not the first one, but the first one after moving in together.

They ate, and Shane's headache went away at last, after he drank the now cold coffee. Then, Raisa wanted to play Mario Kart, so they indulged in a few rounds. It was well past eight when Shane finally got to his office. 

He stopped in the doorway, surprised.

His papers weren't on the floor anymore, nor his books. Everything was back on the shelves and the desk. 

Oh no.

It was a mess when he left, sure, but an organised mess, he sorted things into categories, everything was stacked together now.

"Ilya?" He yelled, grabbing his binders. "Ilya!"

"Yes?" Ilya peeked into the office on his way to Raisa's room. He was preparing a bath for her, he held her pyjamas in his hands. "What?"

"Did you do this?"

Ilya shrugged.

"You told me to clean up."

"I didn't tell you to touch my things!" Shane shrieked, trying to restore his order as quickly as possible, flipping through his notes. "I won't be able to find anything now!"

"Oh." 

He half expected Ilya to leave at that, and bumped into him, moving around, not hearing Ilya step closer.

"I just picked it up, it should…" Ilya, to Shane's horror, reached for one of the binders. "...be grouped together…"

"No, no, leave it." Shane sighed, lightly shoving his hand away. "Leave it, I'll…I'll sort it out again."

"I'm sorry." Ilya hummed quietly. "Do you want help?"

"No." Shane grunted, only realising just how stern his voice got after Ilya frowned at him. "No, I'm…I'm okay."

He forced a smile, spreading the binders on the desk. Ilya stroked his shoulder in another apology before murmuring an okay and leaving to bathe Raisa.

Shane closed the door this time.

He went over all the notes, slowly organising them. It took him all but fifteen minutes. Raisa was still in the bath. He rubbed his tired face, shame overcoming him as it was now very clear he had overreacted. The things were grouped together, as Ilya said, it was only a matter of separating those groups.

He sat down and opened his laptop. He found the damn paper he needed earlier, at least, so he read through it, highlighting data with one of his markers.

There was a knock on the door.

He hated how irritated he was at it. Especially when the handle dropped after he hummed a reluctant come in, and Raisa's head peeked in.

"Shane?"

"Hey, hey, no." Ilya hushed at her from the corridor, trying to drag her away. "Shane is studying."

"I wanted to say goodnight!"

"It's alright." Shane turned away from his desk, leaning down in the chair. "Are you going to bed, Rai?" 

Raisa nodded, stepping inside. 

"Can I have kiss goodnight?"

"Of course you can." Shane motioned for her to come closer. She obediently did, offering her forehead for him to kiss. He pressed his lips to it as she stood on her tiptoes. "Sleep tight. I promise we'll have more fun tomorrow."

"Okay." She nodded, not really sad, but not happy either. She just looked a bit confused. Shane usually went to tuck her into bed with Ilya if she stayed the night here. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Rai-Rai."

He watched her walk away and lifted his gaze at Ilya, who, annoyingly, kept his eyes on his daughter only, whispering to her in Russian as he closed the door.

Shane couldn't focus on a single sentence after that.

He struggled through the paper, his brain not working at such an hour, not making any sense. Concepts he should have remembered a long time ago seemed distant. Definitions he'd normally cite for the word lost all of their meanings. He started over, point by point, blinking hard with dry eyes.

After two more hours, there was another knock.

"What?" He asked weakly. Ilya walked in with a tray, closing the door with his foot. "What is it?"

"I made you tea." Ilya lifted the tray. "And snack."

"Oh." Shane leaned back in the chair, watching as the man put the steaming cup on the desk, the bowl by its side. It was full of cut fruit, bananas, strawberries, apples, and some crackers on the side. "Thank you, you didn't have to."

Ilya just nodded, turning away.

"Hey." Shane reached for his hand. "I'm sorry for snapping at you."

Ilya swallowed, his eyes stuck to the desk.

"Was it a lot of work? To organise."

"No, actually. I was being dramatic." Shane chuckled, hoping he could help with some good old self-degradation. Ilya stood behind him, reading some of the notes with furrowed eyebrows, his hand instinctively resting on the back of Shane's neck, massaging it.

Only then did it hit Shane that since Raisa was sleeping for three hours now, Ilya was just…hanging around the house alone. 

"What are you doing?" Shane looked up at him, resting his head against Ilya's belly.

"Checking what you're writing about." Ilya answered as if it were obvious.

"I mean, generally. Are you watching something?"

Ilya shook his head.

"I did some paperwork and cleaned up."

Fuck, right. Shane promised to do the dishes and forgot, his mind already on studying.

"Sorry, I'm just…a bit all over the place with this." He gestured to the papers. "I'm gonna finish soon and join you."

"Is okay." Ilya leaned down to kiss his head. "Take your time. I'll shower."

Shane squeezed his hand on his neck and fixed the glasses on his nose before going back to work.

Half an hour later, he was done.

Not done, as in, finished with all the material. He was absolutely done physically and mentally. He gathered his notes and dragged his feet to the bathroom to take a quick shower, the mirror was still steamed.

He tiptoed around Raisa's room and sneaked into the dark bedroom.

"Hey." He whispered, getting into bed. "Sorry it took so long."

Ilya didn't answer on his side.

"Ilya." Shane snuggled closer, wrapping an arm around him slowly. "Are you mad at me? Say something."

Ilya was as silent as he was unmoving. Asleep already.

Shane bit his lower lip, resting his head on the man's shoulder.

No, no, no.

It was their first night together here, really together, Ilya's first night in his new home, and he had to fall asleep alone. 

It was late, he had work in the morning, he usually went to bed quicker. He was probably waiting for Shane. 

Shane squeezed his eyes closed, tangling their feet together, sniffing quietly. He reached for Ilya's hand and interlaced their fingers on his stomach. Ilya leaned into him in his sleep.

Chapter End Notes

ilya: wow move in day with my bf :)) such nice apartment....hot loving bf...good place...so much love...i can't believe this is my life
shane: i'm the worst person alive for getting slightly overwhelmed at stressfull things and joining my lover in bed 20 minutes too late. i should fucking die.
ilya: oh and look at that nice desk he put together for my daughter :D

Chapter 2: Tuesdays are for rain.

Chapter Summary

Shane hopes the second day of living together goes more smoothly, but the universe has other plans.

Chapter Notes

shane hollander experiencing sophie nellise's most normal everyday chain of events

Shane woke up with a sharp pain in his neck.

He sat bent over the desk for too long yesterday, and as he stirred awake, he frowned, feeling his joints burn. Ilya was turning off the alarm clock on his phone. He chuckled at Shane's low growl.

"Good morning, kotik."

Shane pulled him closer, pressing his face into Ilya's chest.

"Fuck."

Ilya stroked his back under the covers, smelling so wonderful, Shane was almost falling asleep again, if it wasn't for the pain.

"What time did you go to bed last night?"

"One o'clock." Shane murmured. "You were sleeping already, I'm sorry."

"Is okay. You had to study."

"No. I mean, yes, but…" Shane yawned, words not fully submitting to him when he was still so sleepy. He hid his nose in Ilya's neck now. "It wasn't how I wanted your first night here to go. Did I thank you for cleaning up yet?"

"Hmmm. You can thank me again." Ilya teased. "I did such good job."

"You did."

"Apart from your office."

"No, it was nothing. Seriously." Shane mumbled. "I should've told you to keep it as it was, and it didn't take much time to sort it all out again."

"Promise?"

"Yes. Promise."

He'll do better today. He wanted this whole week to be absolutely perfect, for himself, for Ilya, for Raisa, for Yuna, and for David. Monday was too chaotic, but today? Today, he's got it under control. He needed Ilya to remember their first week living together as nothing but amazing, sweet, worth it.

Ilya kissed his forehead as they cuddled, safe in the warm cocoon in the middle of the bed. Their legs were locked together. Shane couldn't help but plant tiny pecks at Ilya's collarbone, leaning into him more, lazy, still a bit tired.

Ilya's hand was in his hair now, scratching his scalp, pulling gently, and a soft hum escaped Shane's lips as they moved together, his thigh squeezed between Ilya's. He could feel him getting hard, the silence of the room helped, every tiny breath sounded like the beginning of a porn video. He was graced with a hot boyfriend with a very high libido.

Ilya pushed him to his back, kissing his neck and placing himself comfortably between Shane's legs, rolling his hips into him. Shane spread them more to give him space.

The covers fell onto Ilya's head as he ducked under them, pulling at Shane's boxers with his hands. Shane lay his head down on the pillow and tensed up all over with a hiss at a sharp, piercing wave of pain rushing from his neck through his spine.

"Aw, fuck."

Ilya's mouth, currently kissing the base of Shane's still mostly soft cock, stopped. He threw the covers up, over his head, like a hood.

"Shane? What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Shane adjusted on the mattress. "Nothing, it's okay."

Every time he tried to relax against the cushions, his neck screamed at him, and he was half up, half down, elevated on his elbows, stiff, in no way able to get in a good position for this. Ilya stared at him in confusion, glanced down at Shane's dick, and back up.

"You don't want?"

"I do. Fuck." Shane frowned at another tiny jolt of electricity as he tried to nod. "My neck hurts from sitting so much yesterday."

He didn't stretch before bed. It will haunt him for hours to come.

He tried objecting when Ilya pulled his boxers into place, moving back up to lie by his side.

"No, no, please, I can do it, I'm just…"

"You're not even hard." Ilya said with an amused little huff, gently pushing Shane onto his stomach. He took the pillow out from under his cheek. "I'll help with your neck, okay?"

Shane melted against the bed as he felt Ilya's firm fingers on his muscles again, pushing and pulling, circling over his shoulders. 

"I can blow you." He murmured. Ilya just giggled.

"With this old-lady neck?"

"Hey! I'm just a bit stiff!"

"Yeah, would be like fucking a fleshlight."

"Why would you fuck a flashlight?"

"You are too good for this world."

Shane whispered something that he surely wanted to make Ilya shut up, but there was no heat behind it, especially with how he could relax with his arms under his head, smiling when Ilya gave his back kisses.

"I love you." He said into the mattress, groaning quietly at more of the strong, wonderful pressure that kneaded his muscles.

"I love you, too, old lady."

"Hhmpf."

Ilya bit on his shoulder blade with a grin across his face.

He lay under him until the second alarm rang. Ilya patted his side, getting up.

"I'll make breakfast."

"No, I can do it."

"Will be quicker for me to make lunch for Raisa. Get ready for school."

Shane turned over onto his back, breathing deeply.

He was once again sharing the sink privileges with Raisa as they brushed their teeth together. Her hair was like an aureola around her face, and she only had one eye open. She wanted to floss after she saw Shane do it, so he taught her how.

"You have to wiggle it around, not snap, see?" He showed her in the mirror, on his own teeth, pulling the floss between them. "Scoop it out."

Raisa inspected the floss with reasonable suspicion and then stuck it between her two front teeth. The floss fell out on its own, they were a bit far apart. She tried again with a different pair, and couldn't pull the thing out now. She grunted when she forcefully tugged it out, demanding a fresh piece. Shane gave her one.

"I think you'll need braces, Rai." He hummed. She looked at him with a tilted head, frowning. He dragged the tip of his finger against his teeth. "Braces. The metal wires that make your teeth nice and straight."

"No! They cut lips!"

"No, they don't, who told you that?"

"Marcus, at daycare. It's sharp, and hurts."

"Marcus doesn't have braces, he doesn't know what he's talking about. Besides, you're still getting new teeth now. When you get older, we'll go to an orthodontist, and they'll decide if you need braces. It's nothing to be scared of." He finished flossing and used the mouthwash, swirling it around his mouth before he spat it out. "I'll pay for them."

Raisa was more interested in the mouthwash, reaching for it. Shane put it away.

"No, you're too little for that."

"I'm not!"

"I have a feeling you'll just swallow it, and it contains alcohol." He giggled as she pouted. "Rinse with water."

She did exactly as he did the moment before, imitating him in every way and spitting the water out. She even made the tiny ah sound of relief afterwards.

His neck felt a bit better, even if he had to turn around like Batman. The chaos of the morning swallowed them all whole, getting Raisa dressed, getting themselves dressed, eating, cleaning up, packing. 

Raisa had a field trip today. Shane was on chauffeur duty.

"Be nice today, alright, malen'kaya?" Ilya strapped her into her seat in Shane's car. "And remember to drink your water, you'll be running a lot."

"Da, papa."

Ilya kissed her cheek, making her giggle at the exaggerated mwuah.

"And now you." He turned to Shane, putting both hands on his shoulders and pulling him in to plant a loud, wet kiss on his cheek. Shane hit his shoulder.

"Gross." He mumbled, but obediently turned his head the other way, so none of his cheeks could be neglected. Ilya nuzzled his nose into his face with this one. "Okay, go, you'll be late."

Ilya waved at them both before walking away to get to his car and drive to work. 

Shane buckled his seatbelt and fixed the rearview mirror so he could see Raisa better, as well as the backside of the car. He smiled at her softly, and she showed him her tongue. Every day, he was reminded he was truly blessed with two Ilyas instead of one.

"You okay back there?" He asked, driving out of the parking lot. "Are you excited about your trip?"

"Yes!"

"Did Papa pack you lunch?" She checked her little backpack and nodded. "Alright."

"Can we have music?"

"Oh, sure." Shane reached for the radio, changing the channels until something other than advertisements came up. Raisa bopped her head, happy with the tunes.

Raisa's daycare was significantly closer to their old flat than to Shane's apartment building, so the drive took longer than usual. Shane parked by the entrance and jumped out of the car to help Raisa free herself of the seatbelt.

"Remember that if anything happens or you feel bad, you can ask Mrs Linda to call Papa." He offered her his hand as she stepped down onto the pavement. He fixed her backpack for her, tightening the straps. "Don't go away from the group."

"Da."

He knelt on one knee by her side and smoothed her hair back into place. There was always something to fix with little kids.

"Okay. Well, have a nice…" He huffed as she hugged him tightly, chuckling and wrapping his arms around her. "Have a nice day, Raisa."

"You, too, Shane!" She squeezed him. "Will you pick me up?"

"Yes. I promise." He stood up, gesturing towards the gate. The daycare was right behind it. Mrs Linda played with the other kids in the garden. He waved at the lady, and she waved back, recognising him. "Bye-bye."

"Bye!"

And there she went, sprinting towards the fun.

He sat back in the car. Ilya texted him from work.

Ilya
➥raisa dropped off?
➥thank you for taking her to daycare by the way, i have so much shit at work bc i didn't come yesterday

Shane
➥You took a day off, you didn't ditch them or anything, you know?
➥And yes, Raisa's at daycare. I could get used to doing this daily, actually.

Ilya
➥:)
➥cute
➥my boss is pissy already i think i'll need to stay a bit later
➥can you really pick her up too? i mean i'll manage if you don't

Shane
➥I already promised her I will. Don't worry. We'll be waiting with dinner for you.

Ilya
➥my lovely zvezdy

Shane googled the word before starting the engine again. Ilya was calling them his stars. Shane smiled to himself as he drove to uni.

He had a few lectures today, and afterwards, he was supposed to meet with the founder of David's newly acquired firm.

Fuck.

He was supposed to research the field last night. Good thing he realised that now, with a few hours to spare. He'll have to look into that during one of his lectures. The firm was a surveying company, or something like that, they should be doing fairly well this time of year, but they were doing shitty. His dad bought his shares for change money, but it will be harder to convince the CEO to step away and let them fix his stupid business. Shane needed to be prepared.

He checked the company's background when he got to his first lecture, checked their page, and found jack shit nothing there. It was designed as if it were still 2004. All white, black text, no pictures. He checked who was listed as the marketing and graphic design supervisor. CEO's son. Groundbreaking.

He made notes for the meeting, underlining his biggest concerns in the document he made on his laptop. They needed to hire actual specialists. The need for their work was definitely high on the market, but if his dad didn't own this firm as of recently, he wouldn't know they existed. They didn't even pop up in his Google search when he tried testing for "survey Montreal".

He finished classes for the day, got to his car, and hit the road. The weather got weird. Cloudy. Dark.

He put the address into his GPS. He was supposed to meet the founder at the company's office, a bit out of town. Before he even managed to get to the main road, sky started to pour down alarming amounts of water.

"Jesus." He hummed, turning the wipers on. It was a firm wall of rain he had to drive through. The fat droplets banged against the roof of his car. 

He hoped Raisa and the rest of her group were somewhere inside by now. They were supposed to visit a museum and go to a park for ice cream.

He jumped in his seat at the roaring thunder coming from a distance. Fucking God, people forgot how to drive if it rained. He had to be three times as careful as usual, someone driving before him literally couldn't decide whether to enter the freeway or not.

"Come on." He groaned, checking his watch. "No, don't try to…okay."

He watched as the car tried to do a U-turn and waited. It's just wet ground. The young man behind the wheel looked like he was expected to drive onto a frozen lake.

It will rain, and it will stop, and Shane will get to that meeting in time.

He drove onto the freeway and blinked with furrowed eyebrows as he struggled to turn for a moment. He looked through the windshield and saw it was literally raining sideways. The wind was much stronger on the freeway.

He drove slower, cautious, cursing through this God-awful weather like a pirate ship. He was twenty minutes away from the destination when something both inside and outside rumbled so loud, his shoulders got stiff again. His car swayed a bit. Then, there was the repetitive whomp, whomp, whomp somewhere in the back, clear enough to reach him through the sound of a literal flood coming down on the Earth.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He slowed down even more, breathing out shakily at the fuckass banging happening somewhere in the back, on the left. Behind him. On the wheel. The wheel was screeching against the car, which was starting to get uneven.

"Fuck." He stopped on the side of the road, turning on emergency lights and shutting off the engine. "Fuck!"

He got out without thinking, cursing again as he was trenched in seconds. He couldn't allow himself to think about what happened until he saw it with his own eyes. His left back tire was slashed, shredded with the wheel now, if he'd drive any longer, he'd damage the whole rear suspension. 

"No, no, no!" He pulled his jacket over his head, crouching by the useless rubber that used to be his tire. He could barely see through this rain. "No, fuck this! Fuck you!" 

He kicked the wheel and regretted it immediately, jumping on one leg. 

How did this even happen? Did this ridiculously strong wind bring something to the road, something sharp he didn't see? There weren't any holes, he was on a freeway. Fuck.

Okay, okay, at least the wheel itself looked fine. It wasn't bent or anything, he had a spare tire, he'll just…put it on. He watched it on YouTube once. When he was twelve. 

He opened his trunk, thankful to be able to hide his head under it for a moment. He opened the hidden compartment and took out the spare tire, as well as the toolkit he had but never used. If something was wrong with his car, he'd just take another one. Or leave the out-of-order one at a car shop. Recently, he also had boyfriend privileges with the hottest car mechanic he knew, so Ilya usually offered to take a look under the hood when he got the time.

But this wasn't a defect, a drawback in engineering, his tire decided to be sliced open with some stupid stone, probably, or a piece of glass, or God knows what else. Shane grabbed the car jack and knelt on the wet asphalt, not caring about how soaked he was, he needed to get to the meeting, his dad gave him this job, this firm to look after, he trusted Shane with this.

He had to inspect the car jack from each side before hesitantly putting it under the car and pushing the lever down. Nothing happened. Okay, again. Again?

The car jack snapped out of his hands and rolled over, and Shane was pretty sure it wasn't supposed to do that. He lifted it again, it was fine, it simply slipped away. He needs to lift the car to put the new tire on, right? The tire that was getting baptised a few feet away.

"Come on, you piece of shit." He growled, trying to lock the tool under the car with little success. "Lift, you're supposed to lift this! Idiot!"

The car jack didn't care for his insults. He managed to lift the car maybe a few inches, and as he let go of the jack, it just bounced back onto the ground. 

"Please." He hissed through clenched teeth, anger building in his chest, his eyes burning at the helplessness overcoming him. "Please, come on! Fuck!"

He almost snapped his fingers right off, trying to move the tool under the car while it decided to stop supporting the machine altogether again. He threw the carjack into the toolkit, wiping a cascade of water away from his eyes, stumbling back onto the driver's seat. Great, now he'll get it all wet.

He closed the door, gripping the steering wheel and exhaling deeply.

How was today going worse than yesterday?

He banged his head against the steering wheel and stopped only when his phone rang. He glanced at his watch. Fuck, of course, he was already late.

"Uh, Mr Gillman?" He asked with a shaky voice, wiping his face with his shirt. He wore a white shirt today. A nice, good shirt. A proper jacket. "I'm on my way, I'm just…preoccupied."

"I'm sorry, am I talking to Shane Hollander?" Gillman said with uncertainty. They haven't spoken on the phone yet. Shane cleared his throat.

"Yes. I'm on my way to our meeting, I have many things to talk about with you, sir…"

"You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago, what is this? Is this a joke?"

"No! No, absolutely, I'm stuck in the freeway." Shane forced a chuckle, hoping to God it would raise some sympathy. "I have a flat tire, but I'll change it and be right there at your office, sir."

Gillman huffed quietly.

"You sound very young. Mr Hollander, I mean, your father, described you as experienced."

Shane swallowed loudly, stuttering for a moment. 

"I am. I am experienced, I have a business degree, I've been helping my parents with their work since…"

"How old are you?"

"I assure you that…"

"I asked you a question."

Shane blinked, breathing too fast now.

He wanted to do this properly. Show up at the office, shake the guy's hand, introduce himself, show him his notes and briefcase, sit down to talk about the development strategy, he made charts.

"I'm twenty-three." He answered at last. Gillman laughed with no joy behind it.

"Jesus fucking Christ, they send me a kid?"

"I'm not- Mr Gillman, if you'd just give me half an hour, we can talk at your office, I've seen your work, I have a lot of ideas on how to improve the marketing, for example…"

"Our marketing is fine." Gillman hissed.

"Your marketing is…misleading, sir."

"What? You dare to say that to me? Your father said he's sending a specialist! We were supposed to discuss my shares!"

"Yes. Yes, we were." Shane pressed his fingers against the base of his nose. "I have an offer ready for you, if you're willing to…"

"I'm not selling anything to a twenty-three-year-old who can't even show up on time, let alone my shares of the company I built from scratch!" Gillman fully shouted at him through the phone now. "Goodbye, kid, tell your father to send someone who knows what they're doing."

"No, please, wait, I'm-"

The call ended.

Shane stared at the phone, inhaling sharply.

If it wasn't for the pouring rain, the whole freeway would hear his frustrated scream.

He put his forehead onto the steering wheel and accidentally honked, startling himself. A whine came out of his throat, his eyes closed as he tried not to cry. 

He had one fucking job today.

He made a presentation for this man. He picked his best clothes and shoes to look older. He styled his hair back, which was worthless now, as he resembled a cat pulled out of a river, his bangs flushed against his forehead.

His dad will fucking kill him.

Just because this deal didn't cost as much as others David operated in comparison, it didn't mean it was fucking cheap. Sure, change money, for them. When Ilya asked just how much Shane's father spent on buying this firm, Shane just shrugged and said he wasn't sure. Wasn't sure. As if he didn't book it. As if he didn't calculate the tax David had to pay while signing the deal.

He didn't have the heart to tell Ilya that David's small quarterly side project was worth more than Ilya's yearly salary. Twice as much, to be exact, and Shane just fucked it up badly.

He was still stranded on the freeway.

He took his phone in his hands. Helpless against his own incompetence, he called the only person who could help him.

"Malysh." Ilya answered after a longer moment. "Hi."

Shane sniffed, biting on his trembling lip. 

"Hey."

"Shane? You are crying?" Ilya hummed, and there was some noise in the back that Shane couldn't understand. "I have a phone call, give me five! Shane?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't know who to call."

"What's wrong, lyubov'? Where are you?"

Ilya's voice was soft and patient, and Shane lowered his head, drowning in it, holding the phone against his damp cheek. 

"I'm on the freeway out of town. I have a flat tire."

"Did you crash?"

"No, I just pulled over."

"Oh." Ilya sighed with relief. "You are okay?"

"Yes." Shane murmured. "I mean, I just…it's fucking pouring rain and I didn't reach the place where I was supposed to meet this CEO, you remember?"

"Yes, yes, of course." Ilya first whispered and then screamed at someone. "In a moment! Yes, client!"

Shane wiped his wet nose on the back of his hand.

"I got a flat tire, and I can't fix it." He said pathetically. "The…the thing isn't working."

"What thing, sweetheart?"

"The lift-thing."

"The jack?" Ilya chuckled. "Oh, poor Shanya. They didn't teach you how to change a tire in college?"

"Shut up, this isn't funny!"

"Is just a tire, baby, text me your location, and I'll come change it."

Shane swallowed.

"No. You have work."

"This is work. Remote work. You give me tip, extra." 

"Ilya…"

"Just text me where you are. I'm leaving in a moment. Stay, sit in the car, don't do anything. I'll be right there."

He sounded so sure and so calm, Shane just hummed. What else could he do? He'd have to start living in this car, by the side of the road, between Montreal city centre and the suburbs. 

He texted Ilya his coordinates, and waited with arms crossed over his chest. At least he dried a little bit. He still felt like crying. The rain turned from a harsh flood to a more acceptable drizzle.

Thirty minutes later, Ilya's car pulled over behind his, and he watched as the man got out, chewing gum, with a hat covering his golden hair. He looked at the sliced tire for just a moment before knocking on Shane's door like a policeman. Shane opened it, turning to face him.

"Hello, mister." Ilya leaned down to plant a kiss against his lips. "I see you decided to turn this Jeep into a bicycle. That's illegal, you know. A Jeep should be a Jeep."

"Fuck off." Shane grunted, but kissed him back, his lips curving in a weak smile. "It's not my fault."

"Ah, surely."

"Ilya!"

Ilya laughed, patting his knee. He looked at the car jack abandoned by the other tools.

"Okay, stay inside and try not to wiggle a lot."

"What? No, I'll help you…"

"Shanya." Ilya glanced at him with gentle amusement. "Stay inside. Dry."

Oh, as if Shane's help with this was counter-productive? Shane huffed and closed the door. He left the window open, so he could hear Ilya hum a Britney Spears song as he knelt by the car, positively damp from the rain, rolling his sleeves up and preparing his tools.

He pushed the jack under the car, aligned it with something, did a little test with the palm of his hand, and pushed the lever easily. Shane had to use his whole body to make it move an inch. Looking back, it probably wasn't how a car jack was supposed to work. Ilya pumped it a few times, and Shane had to hold onto the door, with one of the car's sides lifted to the air now.

He watched Ilya take the old tire off, blowing a balloon out of his gum and wiping his wet hands onto his oiled jeans. He inspected the wheel and nodded to himself before standing up and rolling the new tire closer.

He did everything with a learnt confidence, every movement and decision was second nature to him. He knew how to get the new tire on, while Shane couldn't even take the old one off. He fished out tools from the box, some of which Shane wouldn't be able to even name, and threw them back in after use. He checked the tire with his fingers after it was in place, banged his knuckle against it like a gesture of good fortune, and packed up the toolkit, relieving the car jack from duty.

Shane was back on God's green earth. Or, Montreal's grey asphalt.

The car was leveled properly again, and when he looked back, the tire looked absolutely normal. Ilya packed the toolkit into the trunk and grabbed the sliced old tire to throw it into his car.

From start to finish, it took him maybe ten minutes.

"Should be good." He leaned against the open window of Shane's car, ducking his head inside. "Try not to ride too…wildly."

He smiled as he said it. As if anyone who knew Shane could ever accuse him of driving wildly.

Shane pressed his lips together with a nod.

"Thank you. You have to teach me how to change a tire, for the next time this happens."

"Ah, bullshit, you don't need to know, you have me." Ilya grinned at him, leaning down until he was speaking against Shane's lips. "Tip, please. For service."

Shane grabbed his face into his hands, kissing him slowly.

It was far too long and deep for the position they were in, Shane still behind the wheel and Ilya half out, half in the car, reaching him through the window with his hat sliding off, but Shane couldn't stop himself. Not when Ilya's composed, normal way of handling this finally eased Shane's storming mind.

He licked into Ilya's mouth, swirling the mint gum inside, stretching it over their tongues. He growled when he felt Ilya's hand on his neck, guiding him. Ilya's damp, calloused hand, smeared with oil and God knows what else, he smelled of smoke and metal, and Shane felt dizzy at how quickly he was growing hard in his black trousers. He needed Ilya to touch him with those fucking hands. 

"Hey." Ilya purred into his mouth. "More of this and I will think you want to fuck your car mechanic, mister."

"I do." Shane giggled, biting at Ilya's lower lip. "You wanted a tip for great service."

"Are you this satisfied with my work?" Ilya glanced towards the new tire. "You should leave a good review for my boss. So I have bonus money."

"I'll give you all the money you want."

"Excuse me, mister, I am a mechanic, not a prostitute." Ilya kissed down his jaw. "And I also need to get back to work."

Shane whined quietly, lifting his hands to lock them behind Ilya's neck.

"Come inside for a moment at least."

"Can't." Ilya murmured into his neck, nuzzling his face into it, pressing soft kisses under Shane's ear. "Every minute I'm here, I will have to work more later."

"What?" Shane moved away to look at him. "You said…"

"We don't do repairs outside of workshop, malysh."

"Then what did you tell your boss?"

"Family emergency." Ilya smiled and kissed his nose. "You are not in emergency anymore?"

Shane huffed, glancing away with flushed cheeks. Jesus, they were living together as of yesterday, when will he stop feeling so giddy about the word family?

"I don't have any more emergencies, no."

"Good." Ilya pecked at his lips and moved away at last, straightening up outside the car. The rain was finally stopping. "Drive safe, okay? No more flat tires?"

Shane groaned.

"It wasn't my fault!"

"Drive safe anyway. See you at home."

Shane watched him walk away to his car, biting on the inside of his cheek so he wouldn't smile too hard.

He picked up his phone as Ilya drove away.

Alright.

He was very late now, but he still had a job to do. He drove back onto the road and followed the GPS to his destination, finally.

The building was incredibly unassuming. White, a bit dated, with just a few cars parked in front of it. The sun came out. 

He locked his car and fixed his damp hair, his briefcase in his hand, and a professional, soft smile on his face. He's got this. It wasn't the end of the world, accidents happen, he can surely set this all straight with Gillman.

"Hello!"

He said it with a bit too much gusto, and startled the lady who was walking through the corridor with a coffee in hand and her laptop open. She looked him up and down.

"Hello…?"

"Shane Hollander." He offered his hand for her to shake, straightening his back. "I'm here to talk with Mr. Gillman."

"Oh. He left already."

He blinked, and his face dropped completely, matching the rest of him. His suit was a bit disheveled, wet, he brought mud into this building despite trying to clean it off on the doormat. His tie was too tight, and crooked, and with his hair all messed up by the rain and wind, he imagined he looked a lot younger than he really was. He could feel his bangs sticking to his forehead again.

"He, he left?" 

"Yes. He said he had a meeting, but it was cancelled."

"It was not cancelled. I just had a little accident on the road." Shane lifted his briefcase as evidence that he came here prepared. Water dripped from his sleeve. "Could you call him and tell him I'm here?"

The lady pursed her lips, stepping closer, evidently wanting him off her head already. He felt like a kid begging for a tour around his older cousin's room.

"Are you here as a replacement?" She asked quietly, and Shane couldn't shake off the impression that she pitied him. "I heard David Hollander was supposed to send a specialist to talk with the boss about…"

"I'm him. I mean, I'm the specialist." Shane cleared his throat, trying to stand straight and proper, but holding the briefcase in two hands now, in front of him, probably didn't help much. His fingers tightened around the handle. "I'm his son, I have the materials, I just…could you please call him? I spoke to him, but he seemed aggravated. I wouldn't want to…"

"Listen, kid." The lady sighed, tilting her head with that awful look on her face. We've moved past pity now, she believed she was showing him mercy. "He's already on his way to town to see potential investors."

"He wasn't supposed to meet any investors yet, we…"

"Let your dad handle this, okay?" She raised her eyebrows slightly. "You won't catch Gillman today anyway. He's booked until the evening."

Shane swallowed hard, looking at her with the stupid briefcase in front of him.

"Okay." He hummed. "Okay, thank you…"

He fiddled with the handle of the briefcase, the button to open it right under it.

The whole thing fell apart in his hands when he turned to at least leave with dignity.

Papers flew out onto the muddy, wet floor, his pens and pencils, his laptop smashed against the ground with a loud crack, opening on its own, the monitor bent at a harsh angle away from the rest of it. Shane inhaled sharply and immediately crouched to catch what he could. Unfortunately, the pitting lady had the same idea.

Their heads banged together, and the coffee from her cup spilled into the air. 

Shane watched it fall and splash all over the documents and his already mistreated laptop.

"Oh, sorry, kid, let me…"

"I'm not a kid." Shane grumbled under his nose, feeling his chest heave as he knelt on the dirty floor, scooping the papers together. 

"What?"

"I got it!"

The lady huffed at the elevated tone, but, ultimately, shrugged and walked away with her half-empty coffee cup.

Shane clenched his jaw as he had to use his printed charts to dry the water and coffee off his laptop in a poorly executed attempt to save it. More employees went through the corridor, alarmed by the noise, looking at him from behind the corners.

He squeezed everything back into the briefcase and held it to his chest. It wouldn't close now. 

He almost ran out of there.

His eyes stung again, and he let out a tiny, pathetic sob as he got inside his car, throwing the things onto the passenger's seat.
He pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes. His dad was already calling him, texting.

Dad
➥Hi, how did the meeting with Gillman go?
➥I'm sure you have a lot of interesting things to say! I couldn't have picked a better person to handle this.
➥Call me later?

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.

He can't fucking tell him. He can't call his dad now, long after the meeting should've been over, and tell him there was no meeting because he caught a flat tire he didn't know how to replace, so his boyfriend had to drive all the way outside town and fix it for him.

He should've taken a stupid cab. Leave the car by the road to come back to later, but that wouldn't help his look, and he doubted any Uber driver would take him as he was literally dripping water while he stood. 

It was so uncomfortable.

Everything was sticky, cold, itchy. He pulled at his stupid tie, loosening it, driving back to Montreal.

He stared at the road with an empty mind. He couldn't focus on anything anymore. This was a disaster.

He'll tell his parents he fucked up this deal, eventually. On Thursday, maybe. He'll see them at the office, and explain.

That is, unless Gillman doesn't rat him out first.

His phone buzzed again, and he glanced at the screen. An alarm reminder. He was driving back home on instinct, and Raisa was supposed to be picked up in half an hour.

He sighed deeply, wiping his stupid face with his hand and turning up the air conditioning. If he catches a cold, so be it, he needs to be somewhat dry.

He stopped the car by the daycare and got out of it. His keys dropped out of his hand, of course, and he cursed, leaning down to pick them up from the pavement.

He walked through the gate, breathing deeply, putting on a gentler expression. Raisa. Home. Food. Wait for Ilya. Possibly suck Ilya's soul out through his cock to thank him for the rescue. Have a better day tomorrow.

"Rai!" He lifted his hand, smiling as he saw the girl playing in the garden. She was chasing some girl with a toy chainsaw in her hands. The girl was screaming in terror. "I'm here!"

Raisa jumped in place as she saw him, dropped the chainsaw, and sprinted through the garden.

"Shane!"

"Hi, sweetie." He sighed deeply, letting her hug his waist. "I'm a bit dirty, I won't hug you back."

She sniffed, stepping back to look at him. She resembled Ilya so much when she frowned. 

"You stink."

"Rainwater, yes. And mud." He showed her his shoes. "But I'm okay. Go grab your backpack, and we'll go home."

"Hm. Okay."

She seemed suspicious of his stinking. Shane just chuckled and watched her go back inside the building to reach her locker. She put on her backpack and jacket clumsily.

"Wait, your backpack's open." Shane knelt to fix it, zipping up the main compartment. "Did you have a nice day?"

"Yes!"

"Hello, sir?"

Shane glanced up, raising his eyebrows. He fixed Raisa's jacket softly. 

A young, brunette woman he's never seen here looked at him with clear wariness. She had the daycare's badge by her belt.

"Hello." He stood up. "Is there a problem?"

The woman glanced between him and Raisa.

"May I ask you what you are doing? These grounds are closed off to outsiders."

"Oh, I'm picking Raisa up today. I guess we haven't met yet." He smiled gently, offering his hand. "I'm Shane."

The woman did not shake his hand. He lowered it slowly as she stepped closer to Raisa.

"And you're who, exactly?" She asked, and before he could answer, she looked at Raisa. "Raisa, honey, do you know this man?"

Raisa clung to his leg, slightly confused. She lifted her head to look at Shane for guidance, as if there were right and wrong answers.

"I'm her dad's…partner." He said slowly, opting out for a more professional word than boyfriend. "We live together now. I picked her up many times, the other ladies here…"

"I'd like her to answer the question."

Shane frowned, his hand instinctively resting on Raisa's shoulder. He did not like this woman's tone. Raisa didn't like it either, she was startled, scared, holding onto the fabric of his trousers like she was being interrogated. The lady leaned down to look at her.

"Raisa?"

Raisa's voice was so quiet, Shane barely heard it.

"Shane."

"I'm not kidnapping her." Shane snorted. "I dropped her off this morning, didn't you see me?"

"Do you have a permit I could see?"

"A permit?"

"A written consent from Mr Rozanov?" The lady crossed her arms on her chest. "It's a requirement."

"That's…" Shane swallowed hard, and now, he wasn't sure if Raisa stuck to him for her comfort or his. "That's never been a problem before. Are you a new hire? Could you ask Mrs Linda to settle this?"

"I understand you're upset, but you have to understand my concerns here." The young woman gestured towards him. Right. He still looked like he crawled out of some wet ditch, dirty and unruly. "You caught my eye since you…well, she doesn't look like you, sir, I don't know every single parent yet, but…"

"What?" Shane choked out, forcing down a laugh. Raisa was sniffing quietly, disturbed by the quick, elevated responses flying over her head. "Of course she doesn't look like me, she's not related to me, but…"

He got the same nasty look many times, whenever he was out in the city with Raisa alone, to take her ice skating, to go shopping when Ilya was sick, to kill some time when Ilya needed to run some errands alone. He paid them no mind every time, he could understand the second-guessing, Raisa was a white, blue-eyed, blonde little kid, and he was a grown asian man, but most people could see he was no stranger to her.  She was usually a bit more lively, talkative, than now, happy to spend time with him. 

"She looks scared." The lady reached out her hand to the little girl. "Maybe we can settle this inside?"

"What, so you can call the cops on me?" Shane lowered his shoulders. "She doesn't know what's going on, you're the one scaring her!"

"Shane." Raisa let out quietly, clearly unable to form words in English now, pulling at his trousers. "Shane."

Shane exhaled, calming down if only a bit, to crouch by her side, speaking quietly.

"It's okay." He looked into her shiny eyes. "It's just a little misunderstanding, nothing's wrong."

"Shane."

"It's alright." He closed her eyes for a moment as she stepped closer, wrapping her little arms around his neck. She was shaking a bit. "Don't worry, you didn't do anything wrong."

"Raisa?" The lady cooed at her in a pitch Shane truly hated. Like she spoke to a dog. "Baby, do you want to wait inside for your dad?"

"Her dad is working." Shane snarked at the woman, picking Raisa up. She melted into his arms, trying to hide there. "She knows me. I'm Ilya's partner, I'm not trying to harm her. I'm trying to get her home so we can eat dinner."

"I understand that, but I don't know you, sir, and…"

"Then maybe get your boss here already." Shane stroked Raisa's shoulder with his hand, trying not to explode. "You're wasting our time."

The woman looked at him and back inside the building, clearly worried that the moment she turned her back to him, he would run off with the girl. The girl who was repeatedly saying his name as she hid her face in his chest, not understanding why they were being questioned.

"I'll go with you." Shane sighed, fixing Raisa in his arms, she was heavy with her backpack on. "Just get this over with, please."

That must've convinced the lady at last, as she motioned for him to follow her.

He walked through the building into one of the classrooms, mumbling under his nose. Un-fucking-believable, he picked Raisa up from daycare all the time. Couldn't they tell the new hires something?

They probably didn't. Everyone except Mrs Linda seemed to deny the fact that Ilya had a partner, and if they didn't deny it, they undermined it. Sometimes Shane found himself willing to do this in Ilya's place just so the caretakers wouldn't flirt with his boyfriend.

"Mrs Linda?" The woman knocked on the door of a classroom, peeking inside. "Can I have a moment?"

The door clicked behind the head teacher as she excused herself to the toddlers she was lecturing about animals. She smiled briefly, looking at them all.

"What is it? Oh, is Raisa hurt?" She frowned, looking at the girl. "Raisa? Did you hurt yourself in the garden?"

"She's scared." Shane muttered, swaying a little bit to soothe the girl. 

"Why are you scared, little bunny?"

"This man claimed he's Mr Rozanov's partner." The new hire explained with a wary tone. "That Raisa lives with him. He wanted to take her with him."

"Yes, to her home." Shane groaned.

"Oh, no, last time I checked, Raisa lived with her dad only." Mrs Linda sighed softly, but she didn't seem at all concerned. She motioned towards Shane. "But, yes, this is Shane, we know him, he's been here a lot of times. Mr Rozanov gave us his permission for Shane to handle Raisa's pickups months ago."

Shane looked at the younger woman with raised eyebrows.

"See?"

"Wait, but you said you live with her." The lady didn't seem convinced after all. "As per our paperwork…"

"They moved in with me yesterday. Alright? It's been barely twenty-four hours. I'm sure Ilya will update his address in the papers when he can."

"Please, make sure he does soon." Mrs Linda sent him a polite smile. "Was the move-in swift?"

"Uh, relatively." Shane grunted. Any other day, he'd show up here clean, dry, composed, with a big smile on his face, ready to do some of this smalltalk with Raisa's teachers, he wanted to have a good relationship with all of them, show them he was here to stay, that he could be trusted, it worked well on Raisa, too, she was much calmer when everyone acted normally about all this. He'd love to chat about how Ilya and Raisa are his now, fully, living under his roof and under his care, but his shirt was still sticking to his back, and he was progressively more and more starved.

Mrs Linda just nodded, possibly sensing his irritation.

"Okay. I'm glad Raisa has a more…stable environment to grow in now." She smiled at the little girl, but Raisa hid away. "There's no issue here, Anna, you can get back to your group."

Anna, apparently, nodded, glanced at Shane, and was already turning away.

"Sorry for the confusion, sir."

"Yeah." Shane clenched his jaw and fixed Raisa in his arms again. "Thanks."

He half-wanted to make a scene here, but that wouldn't help the trembling little person tucked under his chin. Logically, he could appreciate the worry. Realistically, he was simply pissed off. He doubted the girlfriends of the men who had their kids here had to legitimise themselves every time they picked up their step-children. He walked out, inhaling deeply when they were outside again.

Raisa was pulling at his hair slightly, closing her fists in it.

"Rai, baby, it's okay." He hummed, trying not to hiss. She needed to pull at something, might as well be his hair. "It's alright now, we're going home."

"Shane."

"Yes." He chuckled, kissing the side of her head. He opened the car with one hand, gently putting Raisa in her seat. She didn't want to let go of his hair. "I need you to leave my hair alone for a bit, sweetheart."

Raisa sniffed, letting go and putting her hands on her lap. Her lower lip was trembling.

"Hey. We're good." Shane buckled her seatbelt, speaking quietly. "You didn't do anything wrong, it wasn't your fault. Can you talk to me?"

Raisa lowered her head.

"I don't understand." 

Her accent was so strong when she was upset that Shane could barely make out the words. 

"What don't you understand, sweetie?" He crouched by the car, so she could see his face clearly. "Don't cry, everything is alright."

Raisa nodded, looking at her shoes. 

"Rai-Rai?"

Nothing. Shane nodded and stood up slowly.

"We can talk at home." He hummed. She was overwhelmed, startled, her previous joyful energy evaporated, and not for the first time, Shane wished he could speak Russian. English was too hard for her tiny head now. Too many emotions in such a small person, and no right words to name them.

He sat in the driver's seat and drove, glancing at Raisa in the rearview mirror every few moments. She looked out the window, silent. It wasn't until they were almost home that she spoke, her voice fragile and weak.

"I did something bad?"

Shane looked at her, stopping at a red light.

"No. No, of course not."

"Other kids say sometimes." She frowned. "That is…bad."

Shane blinked slowly, trying to understand the twisted English she spoke.

"What's bad?"

Raisa opened her mouth and closed it again, huffing in irritation. She was searching for a word.

"I don't know. You and Papa. They say is bad. Miss Anna say is bad?"

"No. No, honey, Miss Anna didn't know me, she's new, she had to make sure I could pick you up." He followed up quickly, only realising what Raisa said after a moment. "Wait, are other kids mean to you because I'm your dad's boyfriend?"

Raisa scrunched up her nose, quiet.

"Who's mean to you?" Shane tried again.

"Kyle said is weird. And Mia."

"It's not weird, it's just less common. Okay? We talked about this a while ago." Shane turned to their street. "There's nothing wrong with your dad or me. I know other children usually have parents that are…"

He stuttered, cursing in his mind. He didn't want to put ideas in her head, he wasn't…she never said he was her parent. Ilya sometimes teased Shane and called him her dad, but Shane was pretty sure he was joking.

He hoped that maybe, one day, even if it was years down the line, he could try to consider himself Raisa's parent, because he couldn't imagine being anything greater in this life. To be this wonderful girl's stepdad would be his biggest pride. He was already more than grateful that Raisa accepted him and liked him.

"Most kids have a mom and a dad, but not all." He corrected. "Your dad and I love each other very much, there's nothing bad about it. Miss Anna was just confused and misinformed."

"Misin…what?"

"She thought I was a stranger to you, because she never met me."

Raisa grunted and looked down at her pink shoes.

"You are not stranger."

"Yes, I know that. Now she knows that as well."

"You were fighting."

"No. No, we were just talking, sweetheart." He sent her a tired smile and drove into the parking lot. Raisa hasn't seen a fight between adults in a long time. She believed a firm tone was a quarrel, perhaps because neither Ilya nor Shane ever used one on her. Or each other, for that matter. Ilya behaved after a simple, soft, warning Ilya from Shane's mouth, and still, Shane could usually forget what he was mad about the moment Ilya leaned in to kiss his cheek with a smug grin. Ilya's memory was even shorter, Shane had to simply smile at him and press his head against Ilya's body to be forgiven. Their biggest fight yet was about a shirt Shane supposedly stole and claimed was his all this time. It's not his fault it fitted perfectly and had an amazing texture. Ilya just imagined he had that shirt in high school. Memory is such a tricky thing. "You're not in trouble. No one is in trouble. I'll pick you up all the time, and people working at your daycare will recognise me, it won't be a problem."

Raisa sniffed again. He couldn't really see if she was crying or not.

"Rai?" He parked and looked back at her. Raisa was sobbing quietly, looking down, tears running down her pink face. "Oh, don't cry."

That only made it worse.

He got out and walked around the car to get to her, letting her climb onto his arm the second he unbuckled her seatbelt. She was shaking all over. He's never seen her cry like this. Her sobs were echoing in the parking lot.

"Why are you crying?" He asked. "Are you upset with me?"

Raisa mumbled something in Russian.

"I'm sorry, I can't understand that." He sighed deeply. She repeated louder, as if that could help. "Raisa, I can't speak Russian, I'm sorry."

"Papa."

Shane's heart clenched uncomfortably.

Fuck. Of course.

"You want me to call your papa?" He asked, hoping it didn't sound as pathetic as it did in his head. "Maybe I can help? Rai, can I do something to help?"

Can he succeed at just one thing today? He promised Ilya he'll be okay alone with Raisa for an hour or two, Ilya needed to stay late at work, and it's never been a problem. Then again, Raisa was never this upset, and Shane was not her dad. He could only do so much for a small child like her.

He sat her on the hood of the car, wiping her tears with his hands. She tried rubbing her puffy eyes. 

"Shane."

"Yes, yes, I'm here." He stroked her shoulders. "What do you need?"

Ilya would know. Ilya wouldn't need to ask. And Raisa couldn't tell him, not when she was like this, not in English.

She cried more, and he looked around nervously, trying to decide what to do.

He'll do fuck all in a parking lot, that's for sure.

He ducked inside the car again, closing his stupid briefcase at last, tucking it under his armpit and picking Raisa up again. She slouched against him.

"Come on, we're going home. I'll make you tea." He promised. "And some delicious food. What would you want to eat?"

She just sobbed.

"Hm. I don't know that one." He hummed and smiled as she laughed through tears. "Hey, you wanna smash the button?"

He held her in the elevator, showing her which button they needed to push. She had to use three fingers to do it, but she did.

"Good job." Shane let her lean against him again, whispering. "Rai-Rai, are kids mean to you because…"

Because of me and your dad, he wanted to say, but that would be wrong. They weren't the cause of the meanness.

"Are they mean?" He asked simply, rocking her. Raisa nodded.

"Sometimes. Are you going to leave?"

"What?"

"Miss Kathy said." She sniffed loudly, probably wetting his suit jacket with tears and snot. "Miss Kathy said you will leave us soon."

Shane felt his blood boil again. They rode up in the elevator.

"Why would she say that? That's nonsense."

"She said…" Raisa struggled to take a longer breath. "She said, is…I don't understand."

"Can you repeat what you heard?"

"Mother of time." She said slowly. 

"Matter of time?"

"Yes."

Shane lifted his eyes to the ceiling, struggling to keep both her and the briefcase up. His arms were burning.

"I'm gonna talk to your dad about this later." He stated. "She had no right to say things like that."

"Why?"

"Because they're untrue. It's gossip. It's jealousy, I don't know. I'm not leaving you or your dad." He pressed a firm kiss to the top of Raisa's head. "I love you both more than anything."

Raisa didn't answer, she just sobbed a bit more calmly.

He managed to open the apartment and finally step inside, putting the briefcase on the floor. 

"Hands first, and wash your face." He patted Raisa's head. "I'll join you in a moment."

She didn't want to let go of him.

"Shane."

"I need to get myself dry clothes. Raisa." He sighed, gently removing her hands from his neck. "Give me a second."

He ran to the bedroom, grabbed himself sweatpants and a t-shirt, some fresh underwear. He took his suit jacket off on his way to the bathroom and tossed it into the laundry bin that was already overflowing. They need to set a laundry schedule.

Raisa was washing her hands as he instructed her to, still a bit whiny.

"It's all okay." He repeated, standing behind her and looking at them both in the mirror. "Don't worry about it, I'll talk with your dad, fix things. We won't let, uh, Kyle or Mia be mean to you, okay? No one gets to be mean to our Raisa."

She nodded, trying to wash her face clumsily. Shane cleaned his hands before helping her.

"I love you, and you are the most wonderful girl in the world, and now, you live here with your Papa and me, and sometimes…sometimes there will be some problems, but it's not because you're doing anything wrong, or we're doing anything wrong, some people are just a bit stupid. Mean. Bullies. Okay? It's not your fault, I promise you. I'm not going to leave, how could I ever leave my two favorite Mario Kart racers?" He smiled as she giggled. "Who would I race with if not you?"

Raisa pouted.

"I lost last time."

"Ah, only because your dad was cheating." He undid her ponytails and reached for the hairbrush. "We'll get him next time."

She looked up at him through the reflection of the mirror.

"Is Papa coming home soon?"
"Uh, I don't know. I'll call him when we cook. I think he needs to work a bit later than usual." He brushed her hair slowly. "Do you think I can leave you alone for ten minutes? I really need to shower."

She sniffed the air.

"Stink."

"Yes, I stink. I was almost flushed away with the flood on the freeway. Will you be good? I can put on a cartoon for you."

She nodded, smiling a bit wider.

"Yes, please."

He has the bribing part of parenthood covered, then.

He put a cartoon on the TV and could finally shower. A quick one, but much needed. He felt much better, clean and dry, in comfortable clothes.

Raisa colored by the kitchen island as he started preparing dinner. They didn't have much food left in the fridge. He hoped the groceries he bought would be enough to last a week, not two days, but with how much Ilya was eating, and Raisa, too, they were in need of….everything, by tomorrow, most likely. Pasta it is. 

He opened one drawer after another, frowning.

"Rai, do you know where your dad put the strainer?"

She pointed with her crayon.

"There."

Shane exhaled as he opened the overcluttered cabinet.

"That's a place for glass containers." He mumbled, carefully fishing the strainer out. "Not for metal tools."

Raisa shrugged, unbothered.

"We keep them together."

"Because your previous kitchen was too small. This one is not." He sighed and closed the cabinet. "Whatever, we'll sort it all out in a few days."

Everything was fucking out of place. Only the cutlery was where it was meant to be, although he didn't like how, somehow, Ilya believed straws belonged there as well. Shane had a separate drawer for that.

The milk was also placed incorrectly in the fridge. Not on the wall, just closed and laid in one of the shelves. Bowls were on top of plates, stacked together. And the premade pasta Ilya brought from his flat was with the spices, not the sauces, and…

"Shit." Shane hissed as he burned himself with the hot water, almost dropping the pan. Pasta landed in the strainer and all around it in the sink. And on the floor, too. "Shit!"

"Shane!" Raisa gasped.

"Sorry! Sorry." He crouched to gather the still-steaming pieces and throw them out. His fingertips burned. "Uncooperative pasta today."

He poured cold water onto his hands, breathing deeply. He clogged the drain with the food and had to scoop it out into the trash. 

"Can we have music?" Raisa asked. "I want disco."

"Rai, please, not now." Shane opened the pasta jar. "My head's killing me."

Raisa pouted.

"But I want disco."

"It's so nice and quiet. Please." He mixed the pasta with a bit of milk. "Later."

He found a plate, thank God, in this fucking mess. He prepared Raisa's portion first and handed it to her with a fork. She looked at him.

"This is not my fork." She lifted it as if to showcase him. "This is grown-up fork."

"Oh, right, sorry." He took the sharp, metal cutlery from her and began to search in the drawers again. "Where's yours?"

"I don't know."

"Of course."

It wasn't with the rest of the cutlery, that's for sure. But, hey! Straws were. That made total sense.

He searched through the cabinets, feeling his stomach rumble. Raisa sighed.

"Can I have parm?"

"Raisa, baby, wait a second."

"Papa always puts parm on pasta." She blew on her plate to cool the food. "Is so nice. Can I have parm?"

"You asked me that already." He was on the verge of whining as he finally found the safer plastic blue fork for her. One she wouldn't stab her lips with, one that fit in her hand. "Here."

She smiled, taking the fork.

"Shane. Parm?"

"Yes, yes, wait." He opened the fridge again. Parmesan was there, squeezed between hams. Not cheese. He'll murder Ilya. "Got it."

He sprinkled Parmesan over her pasta and put it away to make his portion now. 

He ate quickly, checking his briefcase in the meantime. He had put it on the island to sort it all out, and to his growing tiredness, most of the papers were still drenched inside. He might as well throw the whole briefcase out.

He got rid of the useless documents and saved what he could, cleaning his laptop. It was all sticky now. He tried turning it on, chewing the pasta.

"Do you have games there?" Raisa asked with half of her face green from the sauce. "Can I see?"

"I don't think it's working." He hummed. He held the button down for a longer moment. The screen blinked and froze again. The monitor was too loose, too. 

"What happened?"

He glanced at the ever-curious girl, biting on his nail.

"A lady spilled coffee over it."

"Oh." Raisa shrugged. "You can buy a new one."

He could. He liked this laptop, though, he had a few personal things on it. His schoolwork was all in the cloud, but many of his notes weren't. 

He hung his head, exhausted.

Great. Now he needed a new laptop. And a new kitchen, maybe, this one was all over the place.

He closed the laptop and rubbed his throbbing temples. His phone buzzed again, he didn't have time to check it since he got home.

Ilya
➥did you get to your meeting baby?
➥i have to stay late today, text me when you pick raisa up ok?
➥shane
➥its been two hours?
➥did you forget you're supposed to pick her up today?
➥i called daycare they said there was some troubles? what is going on
➥are you two home
➥call me please
➥shane call me

He stood up, wiping his face. Raisa was still eating dinner.

"I'll be right back." He handed her her cup of water. "Drink."

He closed the bedroom door behind himself and called Ilya, who picked up almost immediately.

"Shane? What's going on?"

He sounded out of breath, sick with worry. As if Shane needed guilt added to today's rollercoaster of emotions.

"It's all okay. Sorry, we were busy. We're home now." 

Ilya sighed with relief, but sounded just as worried when he spoke again.

"At daycare, they said you were upset?"

"It's nothing. Really, it was just a misunderstanding."

"What misunderstanding?"

"There's a new hire who didn't meet me yet, she didn't let me leave with Raisa." He chuckled sadly. "I mean, I get the concern, but it was a bit ridiculous. Raisa got spooked."

Ilya's initial panic returned.

"She's okay?"

"Yes! Yes, of course." Shane closed his eyes. He couldn't help but feel like a babysitter defending himself. "I mean, she…she cried a little bit, but I calmed her down. She's eating dinner."

"She cried? Fuck." Ilya exhaled loudly. Someone called for him in the background. "I have to stay another hour or two, but I can come home if you need me…"

"Ilya, I can handle this." Shane shook his head, even if Ilya couldn't see him. "I'm fine, we're fine. You put the strainer in the containers cabinet."

Ilya stayed quiet for a moment.

"Yes, and…what?"

"Everything's mixed, I couldn't find it. We have to organise it together and…"

"Shane." Ilya sighed, confused, maybe a bit irritated. "Why was Raisa crying?"

Shane frowned.

"She's not crying anymore. She just got a bit startled when the new hire started questioning us, it's fine."

"Can I talk to her?" Ilya cursed when someone called his name again. "Or maybe, do you want me to call Svetlana to come help?"

Shane couldn't believe his own fucking ears.

"I can handle two more hours alone with Raisa." He said slowly. "I talked to her already. She's calm, I don't need…what the fuck, Ilya?"

"I'm sorry." Ilya let out quickly. "I know you can handle it, I just…I was worried something had happened. Is she okay?"

"Yes!" Shane clenched his jaw. "I'm okay, too, by the way, the daycare woman thought I was a kidnapper, and my kitchen's all fucked, but I'm fine. Thanks for asking."

"Jesus Christ, who cares about the kitchen?"

"I do!"

Ilya breathed for a moment.

"Okay, we will…I have to go. We'll talk at home."

Shane pressed his fingers against the base of his nose.

"If you send Svetlana here…"

"I won't. I'm sorry, I was just stressed, I know you are great with Raisa, I just…is all new. Okay? I'm sorry. And fuck daycare woman, you couldn't kidnap a puppy if you tried."

Shane snorted.

"Hey."

"What? Is no insult. You will tell me all at home, I love you."

"Mhm."

"Shane."

Ilya's voice got dead serious suddenly, and Shane's shoulders relaxed.

"I love you, too. Obviously." He bit his lip. "Come home when you can. We miss you."

"I miss you more. This fucking car, I swear, I will…uh. Okay, bye, malysh."

"Bye. See you soon."

It wasn't soon.

He finished eating, put his things away, helped Raisa change into her pyjamas, and played with her on the carpet. She demanded that he narrate the wedding of two of her dolls. She told him about her field trip today, and by eight, she was yawning.

"Where is Papa?" She asked for the tenth time that hour. Shane glanced at the clock.

"He should be here soon. Do you want me to read you a book in bed? While we wait?"

She nodded, too tired to bargain for more time. He brushed his teeth with her and tucked her into bed, lying on the covers by her side. She found his glasses fascinating. Wanted to check how she'd look in them, and said Shane must be blind.

He wasn't blind, he just needed a sharper edge when he read.

She leaned against his side, wrapping both of her arms around his bicep as he read to her about a bird that wanted to be a lion and wished upon a shooting star, but the universe made him a cat instead. Then, when the bird was a cat, he wanted to be a crocodile, and the universe made him into a lizard. The cycle continued until the hero, now a worm, wanted to fly again, and ended up being the same boring gray bird.

He closed the book and looked at Raisa, who was now positively drooling onto his shoulder, dead asleep. He leaned down to kiss her forehead and lazily got out of bed. If he could, he'd just nap there as well.

He turned the lights off and closed the door, rubbing his eyes. Coffee. Studying. He had an exam tomorrow.

He made himself a cup and headed to the office when the front door opened.

Ilya looked washed out completely. Pale and uneasy, his locks out of place and eyes a bit hollow.

"Hey." 

"Hi. Quiet." Shane put his finger to his lips and gestured towards Raisa's room. "She's asleep."

"Oh, fuck. I thought I'd make it here sooner." Ilya yawned, kicking off his shoes. He put the jacket on the hook. "I'm sorry. There's a car we need ready by tomorrow, and the guy covering my shift yesterday fucked it all up. Is madness."

Shane stood in the hallway with his coffee mug, watching Ilya closely.

"Sounds rough."

"Is rough."

"There's pasta on the stove." He said quietly. "Raisa's fed and clean, packed for tomorrow."

Ilya smiled at him weakly, barely standing straight. He stopped by Shane on his way to the bathroom.

"Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me, I'm not a babysitter."

"I know that." Ilya pressed a soft kiss onto his lips. "Give me ten minutes, and we'll talk, okay?"

"I…" Shane looked at his office. "I need to study."

"Ten minutes. Please."

He nodded reluctantly. 

Shane managed to put his mug away and prepare his notes. His laptop was dead. He had to charge his iPad to review a few topics. 

He lifted his head as he heard a knock on the doorframe. Ilya was showered and changed, drying his hair.

"Come."

"Don't you want to eat first?"

"Later. Come."

Shane stood up from the desk with a yawn. His brain was all mush. He wasn't even sure what they were supposed to talk about anymore. It all faded in his mind.

He closed the door and joined Ilya in bed, on the covers, not under them. Ilya smiled at him as he ruffled the towel over his head.

"You have your sexy glasses on."

"Hm? Oh, yeah. I was reading to Rai." Shane took the glasses off and put them on the nightstand. "You had a long day."

Ilya groaned.

"So fucking long."

He'd be home at least an hour and a half quicker if he didn't have to help Shane with his stupid tire. 

"Okay. I'm all ears now. Clean ears." Ilya sat cross-legged in front of him, reaching for his hand. "Tell me what happened. From the start, when I left you looking like a wet kitten on the freeway."

What didn't fucking happen today? It was possibly the worst Tuesday of Shane's life.

"Thank you for coming." Shane hummed quietly. "I'm sure I know how to change a tire, but…"

"It was raining?" Ilya offered with a crooked grin.

"The lift-thingie wasn't working, I told you."

"Mhm. Car jack's fault."

"Ilya!"

Ilya giggled, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"Of course I come. You need me, I come, yes? Did you get another flat tire on your way back?"

"No! Fuck you." Shane huffed, but managed to smile a bit as well. "But this whole thing made me very late, and…my meeting got cancelled."

He was ignored. Ditched. There was no cancellation, he showed up, and the guy wasn't there, and everyone treated him like some sort of business rookie.

"Ah. Sorry." Ilya looked at him more seriously. "Is very bad?"

"I don't know. I'll try to reschedule it."

Ilya rubbed the corner of his eye, trying to remember. His brain was uncooperative after a whole day of work as well.

"It was…shit, uh…something with your dad?"

"There's a firm my dad bought, I'm supposed to supervise, yes."

"And that…didn't work?"

"No." He could tell him about the God-awful phone call, the briefcase snapping, the humiliation, the documents, the laptop breaking. But he could see Ilya was already struggling to keep his eyes focused. "Anyway, I got to the daycare, and this new lady thought I was trying to kidnap Raisa."

Ilya let out a short, angry laugh.

"How the fuck…"

"She said I looked weird. Not like her. I was all dirty from the rain, and Raisa was too scared to talk, so…"

"Scared?"

"Confused. I don't know." Shane ran his hand through his hair. "We settled it with Linda. She told me you need to update your address in the papers, since you moved."

Ilya nodded slowly, interlacing their fingers as he thought.

"I will." He said simply. Not specifying when or how, which only irritated Shane a teeny tiny bit. "Is all good now? The new hire knows you?"

Shane scrunched up his nose, not sure just how good things were.

"I mean, Raisa told me kids sometimes make fun of her. And the ladies…"

Ilya lifted his eyes.

"Make fun of her?"

"Because of us." Shane lifted their joined hands slowly. "And the ladies gossip about us. Said I'll...they said we won't be together for long, or something like that, and she overheard them."

Ilya cursed in Russian, wiping his face with his free hand.

"Fuck. I'll talk to Linda tomorrow, this is unacceptable."

More specific. Date. Shane liked that.

"I don't know if it's going to help much, really." He sighed, gesturing with his hand as Ilya looked at him, not understanding. "I mean, it's just…it's the way things are around there, I guess."

Ilya raised his eyebrows.

"What are you saying?"

"I looked online. There's a much nicer daycare center right down the block. It's totally within our budget, and…"

"Hey. Whoa." Ilya chuckled, taken aback. "I'm not moving Raisa to a new daycare over this. I worked hard to get her into this one. It's close, she has friends there…"

"We could join playgroups with those same kids." Shane shrugged. "And it's not that close anymore, it's close to your old apartment, not this one."

"Shane…"

"I wouldn't want her to go to a place with such low standards. I mean, they should at least know better than to gossip around kids. And that new lady, she was so hostile towards us both, she…"

"Shane." Ilya repeated firmly, sending him a stern look. "I think you got, uh, carried away here."

Shane swallowed loudly.

"It's just an idea." He murmured. "I know that…I know she's your daughter, but…"

"Hey, I didn't say…"

"I don't want to storm in and reorganise your life, I just…" He exhaled shakily. "I want to help."

Ilya shook his head lightly.

"I'm not asking you to help here."

Shane forced down a sad laugh, pressing his lips together.

Maybe I'm asking for your help. You idiot.

You lovely, stubborn idiot.

They treated me like trash. I held your daughter crying through half of the afternoon. I had to explain who I am to her looking like I just came out of a fucking river.

This was the worst Tuesday of my life.

Ilya took a deeper breath before speaking again, since Shane was silent.

"I'll talk to Linda. Okay? I will tell them to be better, and maybe, if this gets worse, we can talk about a different daycare. I want Raisa to finish the year here. It's too much pressure for her, too many changes, it was always just us two, and now…"

"I need to study." Shane cleared his throat, looking at the door. "I thought I'd get the afternoon to myself."

Not the whole of it, but more than what he got. It was almost eleven now. He needed to be up at eight.

No, wait, seven. He woke up with Ilya and Raisa now, and Ilya had work at eight already. 

"I didn't plan on working this late." Ilya hummed.

"I know."

"Sometimes…with Raisa, things don't go according to plan, and…"

"Yeah, I know." Shane stood up. "But now she's asleep, so. I'll go study."

"Shane…"

"We're okay." He sent Ilya a soft, quick smile. "Eat, rest, I'll join you soon."

He left the bedroom before he started crying.

His coffee was cold already. He drank it anyway, looking through his iPad, blinking hard with dry eyes. Fuck. He left his glasses on the nightstand. He's not coming back there now, he could hear Ilya walk around behind the wall.

He checked the repair service in the mall nearby. Rose texted him. She wanted to meet up. Hayden was whining about going to a bar, too. And they need to do laundry. And grocery shopping, and reorganise the kitchen.

He texted his dad back with a yawn.

Shane
➥Hey, sorry, it was a busy day. I'll talk to you on Thursday? Or Friday, when you get here.

David didn't text back. He was probably already asleep.

He'll get this sorted out by Friday.

He studied with his hands holding his heavy head up until he couldn't see properly anymore. He brushed his teeth again, after doing it with Raisa to encourage her earlier.

He calmed down. 

As he walked to the bedroom, he felt a bit better. Maybe not happy, but better. He was just tired. Ilya was tired. It's normal. It didn't mean anything, he wasn't even sure what he was upset about, of course, Raisa was Ilya's daughter, he had no right to…

Shut up.

Jesus.

He sneaked in and found Ilya under the covers already, texting someone. Ilya glanced up at him.

"Hey."

"Hey." Shane turned the top light off and dragged his feet to the bed. To his side. He had a side now. "Who are you texting?"

"Boss."

"It's almost midnight."

"I know. This fucking ginger kid fucked up the simplest job." Ilya groaned, turning his head to look at Shane. "You are ready for tomorrow? For exam?"

"I think so." Shane closed his eyes when he could finally stretch out in bed. This day was endless. "Do you have time tomorrow evening? 'Cause, about the kitchen…"

"Yeah." Ilya nodded, still texting. "Yeah, sure, we can, just…give me a moment."

He wasn't listening. Shane watched him type.

He tried to refrain from looking, but he did anyway. His heart felt weird, and he was a bit nauseous.

Ilya was indeed texting his boss. There were pictures of a car's engine in the chat, and a lot of curses.

Ilya looked at him, smiling.

"What are you doing?"

Shane returned to his side of the bed.

"Nothing."

"You check my text? You think I am lying?" Ilya chuckled, really chuckled, there was no real accusation behind his voice. He found this hilarious. "You think I am texting mistress?"

"Shut up." Shane wrapped himself in the cover. "I'm going to sleep."

Ilya was still laughing.

"You want to check my phone? You are perfect housewife now."

"I said, drop it, Ilya."

He hated how quiet the room became once Ilya realised he was serious.

"Hey. Malysh." Ilya tried quieter, snooping closer. "Was a joke."

"Not a funny one."

Ilya kissed his shoulder.

"Talk to me. You said you wanted to reorganise kitchen?"

"It's not that important."

"Is important to you." Ilya put his phone away and turned the nightstand lamp off. He wrapped one arm around Shane's waist, under the covers, pulling him closer despite Shane trying to wiggle away. "Ah, you are mad at me."

"I'm not!"

"Shanya." Ilya purred into his ear, making Shane's bones melt. "Tell me what I did so I can apologise."

"You put…" Shane lifted his hand, as if it helped showcase how serious the issue was. "You put the strainer into the glass containers cabinet."

Ilya nodded.

"I will put it where you want. I just put it wherever, so it's not on the island. You didn't want anything on the island."

"I didn't mean…"

"Okay." Ilya interrupted him, kissing under his ear. "Okay. We will reorganise kitchen how you want. Tomorrow evening."

Shane was already drawing in a breath to argue further, and stiffened a bit when he didn't have to.

"Promise?" He asked quietly. "Because it's…it's important to keep order in the kitchen. Everything was out of place. You put milk on the shelf…"

"Where do you want milk?"

"On the fridge door. Obviously. And pesto is supposed to be with sauces, not spices."

"Okay." Ilya nodded, kissing his ear now, gently, with no heat behind it. "You will tell me where you want things and I will put them there."

Shane joined their hands loosely on his stomach.

"I don't want to order you around. We don't have to organise everything my way."

"Shanya, I don't care about how kitchen is organised."

"Then why do you bother at all?"

"You care. We organise it your way, it makes no difference to me." Ilya nudged his nose against Shane's earlobe. "Why are you jealous of me texting my boss?"

Shane snorted at the words.

"I'm not."

"Mhm."

"It's just very late to be texting your boss. That's all."

"But I was texting him. Why would I lie?"

"I don't know."

He looked at the dark outline of the window, relaxing a bit more under Ilya's soft kisses. The promise of getting his kitchen back to a usable state was also comforting, more than he'd like to admit.

Ilya waited, breathing onto his neck.

"I had boyfriends who texted other people behind my back." Shane said at last. "Always at night, with some…weird excuse. I'm sorry. I trust you, I really do…"

His voice broke a bit, and Ilya hushed him gently.

"I know you do."

"It was just an impulse to check." He swallowed hard. "Sorry."

Too much. He was too much again.

Ilya will probably want to move out by Friday.

"Some asshole cheated on you?"

Shane shrugged.

"Assholes."

"Fuck. Idiots." Ilya smiled into his neck as Shane let out a soft laugh. "You can have my phone whenever."

"I don't want it. It's not that, I don't want to be…like that. I just…fuck, I'm sorry."

"You can have my phone whenever." Ilya repeated, kissing his hair. "I don't care."

"I respect your privacy."

"You're my privacy." Ilya brushed his thumb against Shane's stomach. "If it helps you be calmer, is okay."

"I am calm, I would never think that you'd cheat, or…"

"Yes, we both know I won't. You would kill me or cut my dick off."

Shane forced down another laugh.

"Jesus Christ."

"First, cut my dick off, then kill me, then burn the body in the woods. And on your way back, you get a flat tire again, and there's no one to help you change it. Cops find you and arrest you."

"Mhm. For cutting your dick off and burning your dead body."

"No, for too-slow, bad driving, obviously."

"I'm not a bad driver." Shane giggled, turning on his back to face him. Ilya was smiling. "I'm cautious, there's a difference."

"You drive like old people fuck." Ilya nudged their noses together, smiling wider when Shane laughed again. "Very sexy. Is like speed limits were invented for you to follow. For Shane Hollander specifically."

"You drive safely, too!"

"Now, because I have a kid, I used to be much more fun in high school." Ilya dragged his hand over Shane's chest, inhaling deeply. "Fuck those assholes, by the way. Who would fucking cheat on you?"

Shane rolled his eyes.

"Ilya…"

"You are never getting rid of me. Understand?" Ilya made his point land with a firm kiss to Shane's lips. "Sometimes I work late because sometimes I work late, and boss texts me at night because he is asshole from capitalist America and thinks I have no life but work. That's it."

Shane nodded slowly.

"I believe you." He whispered, truthfully, Ilya never gave him the faintest reason to doubt his loyalty. "It was just an impulse, I swear. I trust you."

"Password is Raisa's birthday."

"Ilya, I'm serious. I don't need to check your phone, I'm not fifteen anymore." He watched as Ilya reached for his phone again, unlocking it and scrolling through the settings. "You're making me feel a bit insane."

"We live together now, you need to be able to open my phone. What if I fall in the shower and we need ambulance?"

"I have my own phone to call one, thank you."

"Ah. Nonsense." He pointed the phone at Shane, and lifted his chin. Shane blinked. "Eyes open."

He was setting Shane's face as one of the unblocking features. Shane groaned.

"You're ridiculous."

The phone dinged, confirming the scan. Ilya nodded, clearly satisfied with his work, and put the phone away again.

"Maybe."

Shane looked up at him, realising at last there was no point in arguing about it. Ilya didn't look at him like he was crazy. He just smiled.

"I love you." Shane muttered, lifting his hand to play with Ilya's necklace. "I'm sorry I'm like this sometimes."

"Like what?"

"Overwhelming. Overwhelmed. I don't know." He giggled again as Ilya leaned down to nuzzle his face into Shane's cheek. "You're like a dog with this."

Ilya actually licked his cheek now.

"With what?"

"Stop being a parrot!"

"I'm not a parrot. I'm a dog." He moved onto the other cheek, grinning when Shane hit his shoulder. "You're not over-anything. I love you, too."

"You're gross."

"Ah, my love is gross?"

"Your weird licking thing is gross!" 

"I thought you liked me licking you."

"Not my face! Get off me!"

They wrestled for a moment, laughing in bed, before he managed to shake Ilya off onto his side of the mattress and wiggle himself closer to cuddle into his side, settling on the pillow with him.

He could fall asleep more calmly than yesterday.

Chapter End Notes

@brandijill commented about hot mechanic boyfriend ilya changing a tire in pouring rain so thank them not me i'm just an easilly influenced vessel

Chapter 3: Wednesday's are for finals (?)

Chapter Summary

As Shane reaches one milestone, a curse from his past catches up to him.

Chapter Notes

mild tw: shane vomits from anxiety in this chapter. it's not a long sequence, but it happens, so beware!

He woke up before the alarm, and the first thing he could understand was that he was hard and leaking, and moaning too loudly.

Still mostly asleep, he rocked his hips back, instinctively looking for friction. Ilya's arm was around him, holding him tight against the man's chest as they moved together, breathing heavily in the middle of the bed. He could tell from Ilya's sloppy, frantic movements and his open-mouthed panting directed at Shane's neck that he, too, was still only waking up. They were already halfway to cumming, and Shane just opened his eyes.

He swallowed loudly, feeling how dry his throat was. They must've been doing this for a while, then. He could feel Ilya's cock throbbing against his ass in frantic little humps. Ilya was whining into his ear, grinding his hips against him desperately, in a way he only ever did when they were edging each other for an eternity already. Or, when he was still sleeping, and out of control, pathetic. 

"Ilya." Shane choked out with a hoarse voice, doing exactly as his boyfriend was, moving in anything but a graceful tempo, sweaty and needy, like a teenager discovering masturbation. "Ilya, baby."

Ilya hummed, stirring awake, moving his hand onto Shane's hip as he slammed his clothed erection into Shane's similarly clothed ass. Shane could feel the friction burn on his cheeks already.

"Oh, fuck, fuck…" Ilya murmured, gripping his hip, his voice higher than usual, holding Shane in place. "I'm close, 'm so close, fuck…"

He bit on Shane's shoulder, humping like a dog in heat, the bed rocked with them both. Shane palmed himself through his striped pyjama pants. 

"Shane…" Ilya whined again with a shaky, unsteady voice.

"Fuck me, baby."

"I am, I am…"

"No. Ilya." Shane grunted, trying to turn towards him. Ilya was barely conscious, drunk on the pleasure, grinding hard against his ass. "Wake up."

Ilya slowed down, breathing heavily, looking at him with fluttering eyelids. He glanced down, as if he needed to make sure he wasn't actually inside Shane yet.

"God." He growled, circling his hips. "Fuck, I was…I was just in you, I swear."

"Not yet." Shane chuckled, reaching to the nightstand and throwing his phone onto the floor in result, but fuck this, he'll explode in a second. Ilya dreamed of fucking him so well, he almost came in his sweatpants from dry sex.

He handed Ilya the lube and pushed his hand onto the bulge in his own pants, trying to calm down enough to last. Ilya was always a bit rougher when he was this impatient. A bit more decisive, demanding, taking what he wanted, what he needed, and it always drove Shane insane.

He gasped when Ilya pushed him over onto his stomach and yanked his pyjama pants down.

"Ass up." Ilya whispered with a ruined throat, already circling Shane's hole with his finger. Shane moaned into the pillows.

He rocked his hips back as Ilya fucked the finger in and out, quicker than usual, getting up to kneel behind him. He looked a bit drunk from the sleepiness, he almost fell back onto the bed. He poured lube onto his cock and placed it between Shane's legs as he stretched him with his fingers.

"Tighter. Shane, legs tighter." He exhaled, slapping Shane's thigh with his free hand. Shane let out a tiny squeak, almost blind with how painfully hard he was. He did as he was told, biting his lower lip when Ilya fucked his thighs. "Oh, God."

"Don't come yet. Please." Shane stuttered out. "Inside me."

"Yes, yes, promise. I just need…" Ilya's thrusts became less regular, dragged out, and then fast again, the sounds obscene in the quiet room. The tip of his cock slammed into Shane's one time after the other. "Need to fuck you so bad."

"Now, now, I can take it."

Ilya must've been really gone, since he didn't make him beg this time, didn't make sure with a soft touch to Shane's neck. In an absolute demonstration of trust in Shane's words, he pulled his fingers out and pressed his hand between Shane's shoulder blades, gripping his shirt. 

"Fuck." Ilya missed his hole the first time he tried to frenziedly squeeze his cock inside Shane, letting out a frustrated hiss at his own discoordination. He helped himself with his other hand and slammed into him at last.

Shane squeezed his eyes shut, both in pain and pleasure, arching his back and rocking with Ilya's thrusts. Oh, this was that kind of sex. The kind when he sometimes felt like Ilya fucked all vowels out of him, his brain turning to a bland field shocked with electricity, his mouth hung open, moaning useless words and eyes closing and opening on their own, rolling back as he was getting railed.

He whined louder when Ilya pushed his head into the pillows, gripping his hair. Half of Shane's face was covered with the fabric, he could only open one eye, brought back and forth.

He must've moaned something, because Ilya leaned down, pounding his hips into him mercilessly, speaking into his ear.

"I know, baby, I know."

"Ilya…" He could only cry out the name, feeling Ilya's heavy cock in his stomach, spine, in his throat. His own dick throbbed against the bed, hurting from the friction, and he was pretty sure he's never been this fuck-drunk in his life. "Harder."

A scream got lost somewhere between his lungs and mouth. Ilya shoved himself deeper and harsher, hammering on his prostate.

"You're such a fucking cockslut." Ilya panted into his ear, biting on it, mumbling nonsense. "Needy."
"Yes, yes, yes, yes…"

"My needy doll."

"Yours, fuck." Shane cried, gripping the sheets. His knees felt raw from grinding against the bed. Ilya used his hole like his personal toy. "Feels so good…"

More breathless rambling flew from Ilya's mouth, and Shane was pretty sure he felt high.

So needy, so desperate, you like to be fucked properly, don't you? Grind that ass. So fucking tight. God. So wet for me. Squeeze. You'd eat that cock if you could. I'm gonna fuck my cum into you. Mine. Mine to fuck like this, yes? My love. Dreamt about you, about your pretty hole, swallowing my cock, you need it so bad, need me inside.

Shane whimpered, barely making out the words leaving his mouth.

"Gonna cum." He heard his own voice from afar, his stomach was tensing up, Ilya's dick slammed against his prostate time after time, bruising it, probably, carving out a space for himself in Shane's ass. "IlyaIlyaIlyaIlya…"

Ilya only fastened up, pulling Shane's hips back, stiffening up. They'll come together. They'll faint together, probably, Shane was seeing dark spots in front of his eyes, his heart pounding in his ears. Ilya pulled his hair harshly, baring his teeth as he was getting close.

And then he was gone.

Shane didn't understand what was going on at first, letting out a broken moan when Ilya slipped out completely, a string of precum and lube following his cock. 

A cry came from Raisa's room.

"What the fuck?" Shane groaned, feeling painfully empty all of a sudden, turning onto his side. In a matter of seconds, he went from approaching one of the most crushingly good orgasms of his life to watching Ilya curse and reach for tissues. "Ilya?"

"Rai's crying." Ilya breathed quickly, pushing his softening dick back into his pants and cleaning his hands quickly. "I'll be right back."

"Are you serious?"

He didn't get an answer. Ilya ran out of the room, forgetting about sex, and him, and everything else.

Shane pushed his head into the pillow, exhaling. 

His vision became a bit clearer, and an awful, uncomfortable feeling washed over him as his climax faded away, never reached. He looked down on his reddened thighs, glistening dick, and lube smeared all over down to his knees. 

He lifted his head just to slam it into the pillow again. His mind was spinning. He felt as if he was knocked down from a mountain he climbed for-fucking-ever, without even seeing the top, and now he wasn't slowly getting down, he was rolling down the hill.

He reached for the wet wipes, cleaning himself off. His hole clenched around nothing. Fuck this. He didn't even want to cum anymore. 

He found fresh pants for himself and walked to the bathroom. Raisa's door was closed. He could hear Ilya talking to her behind it.

He didn't have the energy to fully shower. He stood there, under still cold water, washing lube away from his legs, with his t-shirt still on. A minute later, when he was not dripping Ilya's precum down his ass, he could get into his fresh sweatpants and throw the other ones in the laundry bin.

They still didn't do laundry. He'll set something on fire soon.

He washed his face and brushed his teeth, calming down completely and looking at himself in the mirror. His hair was still a mess, and his skin was flushed red, but he was about as far from thinking about sex as he could.

He knocked on Raisa's door and sneaked in after an affirming hum.

Ilya was walking around the room with Raisa in his arms, her tiny face pressed against his shoulder. She was sleeping again, but she had clearly been crying. He cooed at her, swaying.

"She had a bad dream." He whispered. Shane tilted his head with a sympathetic frown. "Monster tried to eat her."

"Shitty monster, then."

Ilya chuckled, putting his finger to his mouth.

"Language."

"Sorry." Shane stepped closer and looked at Raisa's face. She was sleeping, but not very hard. Ilya's rocking kept her in this in-between state. She was getting big. So big, soon, he won't be able to carry her like this.

Ilya stopped for a moment. Bending one knee to Raisa's head would be a bit lower.

"Give her kiss to stop bad dreams."

Shane smiled, obediently kissing the girl's forehead. She hummed in her sleepy state, clinging to her dad. Ilya mouthed an I'm sorry at him, and Shane just shook his head with a tired smile.

"I'll put her back to sleep." Ilya gestured with his head towards the door. "Go back to bed."

Shane watched him lay the girl down carefully and pull the Bluey covers over her before leaving.

The bedsheets were ruined. Shane took a deep breath and pulled the duvet cover off first, working with the snappy zipper.

Ilya came back and closed the door quietly. It was only five A.M. 

"What are you doing?"

"Changing our bedsheets. They're dirty."

"Later. Shane." Ilya pulled him closer by his hips, standing behind him with his arms wrapping around Shane's body. "Come on, we can finish now."

"I'm not in the mood anymore." Shane said simply. Ilya stiffened behind him. What? It was true. He wasn't in the mood anymore. What was wrong?"

"You're mad?"

"What? No." Shane frowned, turning to look at him. "Why would you say that?"

"I'm sorry. She was crying, she never cries unless she's very scared." Ilya motioned with his hand, stumbling over words. "I know is bad timing sometimes, but she had an ugly dream, and…"

"Ilya." Shane grabbed his face in his hands gently. "I know. It happens, it's okay. I'm glad she's better now."

He lowered his voice at the sight of Ilya's unfocused, darting eyes.

"We can finish." He offered again. "I make it up to you."

"You don't have to make up anything. I'm not being mean or secretive when I say I'm not in the mood anymore, alright?" Shane brushed his thumbs against Ilya's cheekbones. "It's not your fault."

Ilya looked down with a few tiny nods.

"Yeah."

"Did…anyone make you feel like it's your fault before?"

"I mean, it's hard having sex when a kid is in the house." Ilya chuckled sadly. "I promise is not always like this."

"I know it's not." Shane furrowed his eyebrows. They had sex here many times already, Raisa was usually fast asleep on the other side of the apartment. Ilya was still stiff in front of him, unlike himself, breathing a bit shallowly. "Do you want to get back into bed? It's still early."

"Mhm." Ilya hummed, nodding, with a tight throat. "Y-yeah."

Shane stroked his shoulders lightly.

"Let me just change the bedsheets, okay?"

"Yeah." Ilya cleared his throat. "I'll go brush my teeth, I want to kiss you."

Shane smiled at him softly, returning to the ruined bedsheets.

"You might wanna shower, too."

"Eh."

"Ilya."

Ilya mumbled something under his nose, but he did take fresh underwear from the drawer.

Shane put new covers on, and walked to the bathroom with the mountain of more dirty laundry. There was no space in the bin anymore. Ilya was already showered and changed, brushing his teeth in nothing but boxers hanging low on his hips. 

"We need to do laundry. It's getting ridiculous." Shane dumped the dirty sheets by the bin. "Did you move the detergents somewhere?"

Ilya reached above him into one of the cabinets and fished out the big bottle. Foam was dripping down his chin.

"Ere."

"Don't talk with your mouth full."

"Oh vat?"

Shane snorted, taking the detergent and putting it by the laundry machine. He loaded the sheets into it. Ilya spat out toothpaste, leaned against the sink. The big light in the bathroom wasn't even on, just the small ones on top of the mirror. It was still five A.M. Shane was doing laundry with his boyfriend at 5 A.M. while Ilya stood there in his underwear, sleepy, fresh out of a shower.

"Can you hand me the fabric softener?" Shane poured the detergent in, setting the machine to the right programme. Ilya handed him the next bottle and stayed behind him, kissing his shoulder.

"I will put it in dryer when it ends."

"Thanks."

He poured the softener into the machine and put the programme on. Ilya was kissing his neck now.

"Hey." Shane's shoulder raised at the sensation. "You're tickling me with your beard."

"I don't have a beard."

"You have like, three days' worth of hair on your face. It tickles." Shane chuckled at another quick kiss. "Ah."

"You want me to shave?"

"Hm. Maybe. I don't mind either way, I think."

"Oh, am I that handsome? Good looking, no matter if I shave or not?"

"Yes." He hummed, smiling at the silence that followed. "What, you thought I'm gonna argue? Let's get back to bed."

Ilya followed him with his fingers loosely wrapped around Shane's wrist.

They snuggled into the fresh covers in the middle of the bed. It was still very early. Shane tucked his head under Ilya's chin, listening to his heartbeat, in disbelief that this would be every morning now. He'll have Ilya close like this whenever he wakes up. 

Ilya was breathing a bit unevenly and stroking his back with his fingers in mindless, tiny moves. Thinking. On edge, a little bit.

"Are you okay?" Shane murmured. Ilya swallowed hard.

"Yeah. Sorry about the sex again."

"Don't be." Shane pressed a delicate kiss to his boyfriend's neck. "It was fun."

"I just…" Ilya sighed, shifting on the bed. It was so quiet. So peaceful. Warm, and clean, and gentle. "She was very scared. I think it's all the changes, you know? I should've talked to her more, or…"

Shane frowned.

"You came back when she was already asleep yesterday."

"Yeah, I know. I mean generally." Ilya scratched the back of Shane's neck, and Shane wasn't sure which one of them he tried to comfort more, but it worked nonetheless. "I think this is all more for her than I expected. The move, new environment, she's still so tiny."

Oh.

Shane felt his heart flinch, his fingers closed on Ilya's shirt. 

Was it all too much for her? For Ilya? Was this what he was saying?

"Maybe I didn't do as good a job as I thought with her yesterday." He whispered. Ilya shook his head.

"No, you did great. You calmed her down, you talked to her, right?"

"Yes, of course."

"Is not your fault. Sometimes she is stressed and gets bad dreams." Ilya kissed his temple softly. "You are very good with her. You know that?"

Was he?

Raisa was so upset yesterday, and she asked for her papa, not him. He managed to distract her, ease her nerves, explain, but he wasn't sure she was fully content when she went to bed. It was all confusing to her. What if he made it worse?

He fully accepted the new responsibility, but perhaps, as with Gillman, he wasn't ready for it, not fully prepared. He only read eleven books on parenting, and barely three of them were specifically about raising a child from another culture.

"I need to start learning Russian for real." Shane said instead of answering. "So she can express herself freely. She was very frustrated that I didn't understand her."

"Mm, I bet she was." Ilya chuckled. "Did she stomp her foot?"

"I think so, yeah."

"Oh, so scary Raisa. Were you terrified?"

"A little bit." Shane smiled at him, lifting his head. He leaned in to kiss Ilya, sweet and quick. "I'm glad you're here."

Ilya looked around the bed.

"Where else would I be?"

Cute idiot.

"You know what I mean. I'm glad you're living here with me."

Even if maybe Ilya was already regretting it. If Raisa didn't like it here after all, and everything was going to shit, and Shane didn't expect to find it so difficult to adjust to other people being in his space all the time. He's lived alone since he was eighteen. 

"Of course. Me too." Ilya kissed him back. "I mean, it doesn't feel real yet, yes? I spent a week at your house when I was sick, and then you were sick. So it feels like a sleepover."

Except all his things were here, and they didn't have to leave next Monday, and Shane still smiled at the three toothbrushes on his sink. Raisa's pink one was between theirs, shorter.

"Kind of does, yeah. But we're healthy now." Shane pushed Ilya's cross with his fingertip, watching it slide on the man's shirt. "Raisa has the best immunity out of all of us."

"Mhm. Daycare magic. She was sick so much, now she is immune." Ilya took a longer breath, looking at him. "I'll talk to Linda today."

He didn't forget. 

A part of Shane wanted to just nod, happy. Another felt intensely guilty.

Ilya had a long day yesterday, and another long one ahead of him. It's not like anything bad happened, really, just a misunderstanding. He probably overreacted.

And suggested moving Raisa to a different daycare like a maniac. 

What the fuck was he thinking? He doesn't get to make such decisions. Ilya never said he could. This wasn't skating, or cinema, or buying her gifts, this was interference. He was lucky Ilya didn't get mad at him.

"If you want, but you don't have to. I mean, it's settled now, the new hire knows me."

Ilya shook his head.

"I don't like the way they treated you."

He sounded genuine. A bit pissed off, but not at Shane.

"If anything, maybe just tell them not to gossip around Raisa." 

"That, too, but first, you." Ilya nudged their noses together. His breath smelt of mint. "I'm sorry. I was so laser-focused on Raisa yesterday, you were sad, too."

"I wasn't sad." Shane chuckled. "I'm a big boy, I can handle myself. Sure, this new lady wasn't really nice, a bit…I don't know, maybe prejudiced? I'm sure she had good intentions, though."

"She can have good intentions with more manners. You're my man." Ilya kissed him firmly. "I tell Linda that if she wants my tuition, her workers have to treat you with respect you deserve."

Shane huffed, pushing his face into Ilya's shoulder. He could still feel the tips of his ears going red, though.

"You don't have to fight with Linda on all this. It was just a misunderstanding. Raisa was just confused. "

"Of course I need to fight, is my job."

"Taking care of Raisa?"

"Taking care of you." Ilya stroked his hair lightly. "You've got too much on your shoulders already."

Shane smiled into Ilya's shirt.

"On my plate, you mean?"

"What plate? You are hungry?"

"Never mind."

They cuddled until their alarms went off, and the day got in the way.

Ilya put the laundry in the dryer and got Raisa ready as Shane made them all breakfast. He used the last few eggs and every bit of bread that was left. He didn't even have his avocados anymore. 

Raisa was still sleepy as she sat by the counter, yawning. Ilya braided her hair into one dutch braid in the middle of her head.

"Hi, Shane."

"Hello." Shane smiled at her, flipping the French toast in the pan. "I heard you had a nightmare?"

Raisa pouted.

"Yes."

"That's awful. Are you okay now?"

"Yes. Papa made me this." She pointed to her braid. "Is pretty, yes?"

"Is very pretty, yes." Shane chuckled. He looked up at Ilya as the man walked into the kitchen, still pulling his shirt on. "We need to go grocery shopping."

Ilya nodded.

"Sure. Today in the evening?"

They were supposed to reorganise the kitchen today. Food was more important. Fuck, why did plans always have to change?

"Yeah, sounds okay."

Ilya kissed his shoulder briefly, looking into the pan.

"What time is your exam?"

"Uh, two p.m. It's three hours long."

"Maybe we pick you up? Go straight to store?"

"Yeah, that…also works."

He wasn't leaving with them today. They ate together, and he laughed as the two blonde Russians lined up to receive goodbye kisses from him. He spent a longer moment kissing Ilya with his hands on the man's chest, and soon enough, Raisa was pulling on his pants leg, frowning with her backpack on.

"Now me! Shane! Me!"

"Okay, okay." He chuckled, kneeling to hug her tightly and kiss the top of her head. "Have a nice day, sweetheart."

Raisa squeezed her arms around his neck, nodding. Then she pleaded her way into Ilya's arms, even if she was big enough to walk to the car alone. Ilya, of course, picked her up with just a soft huff that was nowhere near irritation.

"Moya printsessa. Spoiled."

Raisa scrunched her nose at him.

"I had bad dream."

"Oh, yes, of course. I am so sorry. Of course, you get anything you want today. You had a bad dream after all."

"Shane!" Raisa looked to him for support. "Tell Papa!"

"I don't know, I think it's pretty justified." Shane shrugged, sipping on his coffee. "I think Raisa deserves some special treatment today.

Today, as if this weren't their common reality. Ilya kissed her cheek with a smile.

"Okay. Is justified. I think I have candy in my car…"

"Don't stuff her with sugar right before daycare." Shane groaned. "She'll be sick."

"Is just one or two. Or three."

Raisa's eyes sparkled.

"Three candy?"

"Yes." Ilya opened the door with one hand, fixing her on his hip. "Maybe we'll find some for Shane."

Raisa lowered her head.

"Shane had bad dream?"

"No, it will be like…prevention. Zashchita ot plokhikh snov."

"Ah. Da, we find candy for Shane."

Shane smiled, waving them goodbye. He really needs to look into Russian lessons soon.

He took the laundry out of the dryer, folded it, and finished his coffee. Before his exam, he just needed to get his laptop catastrophe sorted out, so he got dressed, cleaned the kitchen, and set off to the nearest repair shop.

Ilya texted him while he was on his way.

Ilya
➥i talked to linda
➥she is very sorry about the new hire being dumb, she said it won't happen again
➥and she'll talk to the gossiping ladies

Shane
➥You didn't scare her into it, did you?

Ilya
➥no of course not
➥i just told them i will take raisa and my money away, leave bad reviews everywhere and fuck up their husbands cars if their teachers keep talking shit about my boyfriend

Shane
➥Ilya.

Ilya
➥🥰 

Shane
➥Thank you. I love you.

Ilya
➥i love you too
➥see you later i have to work

It's not like Shane needed saving. It's not like he'd die without Ilya stepping in. But it did feel nice.

He reached the repair shop with a smile on his face that gradually faded as the owner inspected his laptop.

"You said it was coffee?"

Shane nodded.

"And rainwater, a bit. How much to fix it?"

"Honestly?" The owner sighed, looking into the ventilators. "I can't give you a price."

"I'll pay whatever it is." Shane waved his hand. "I have some pictures on the hard drive, and…"

"I can't give you a price, because it's pointless work. It looks like there was a short circuit when the water got to the vents." The man clicked his tongue. "They'll be burnt and melted inside. And I can see it hasn't even dried yet. Let me open it up."

Shane watched as his laptop was dissected on the table with some stupid, naive hope. The man rummaged inside the laptop's guts with a pitiful look on his face.

"It's gone and buried, man. I don't think there's anything I can do." He scratched his chin. "I could try to revive the hard drive, but it looks like it was drenched in a lake."

Shane hung his head low for a few long seconds.

"Alright." He pressed his fingers against the base of his nose. "Can you put it back together, then?"

"Sure can, but it'll serve better as a tray than anything else."

Fuck.

He packed the laptop back into his bag, thanked the repairman for nothing, and left the shop. He walked down three blocks to the nearest electronics store. Grabbed a new laptop after twenty seconds of checking if the parameters matched and went straight to the register.

"Would you like to pay in installments?"

"No." Shane tapped his card against the counter, looking over at the little knick-knacks presented on the shelf to the left. A small, pink device caught his eye. "What is that?"

The young lady who scanned the laptop box looked over at the shelf.

"That's a Tamagochi."

"Oh, right, I forgot those existed." He grabbed the pink one and put it on the counter. "Add that to the bill, please."

The lady nodded with raised eyebrows. She pointed to another shelf.

"There are accessories for Tamagochis right there."

Shane took a few matching ones, two keychains, stickers, and a fuzzy little ball, and handed her those as well. She scanned the items while glancing at his card, like she didn't believe it would go through.

"Would you like a bag?"

"Yes, please."

"Credit card?"

"Debit."

He swiped the card and started packing his items into the huge bag she gave him. She reached out her hands.

"Wait, sir, I need to make sure the payment went through before I let you…"

Shane threw the Tamagochi box by his laptop.

"It will."

The terminal beeped, and a green dot appeared. Payment accepted.

"Oh. Well, in that case, uh, have a nice day."

Shane nodded and headed to the exit.

"You, too."

He went back home, put his ruined laptop away for now, unpacked the new one, and quickly set it up for work tomorrow. He put Raisa's Tamagotchi with its accessories on the kitchen counter. He managed to use his new laptop to pay the bills before he had to go again.

Ilya texted again. He probably ate his lunch now.

Ilya
➥i had a very special patient in my workshop just now

Shane frowned.

Shane
➥Patient?

Ilya
➥car shanya
➥my own fucking car
➥i have no words for her anymore. i treat her so well and she keeps being dumb. ungrateful.

Ilya's car was old and progressively unreliable. He was clearly attached to it, he worked his ass off to get it in the first place, he once described the whole process to Shane. He had three jobs at the time. Raisa wasn't even one year old yet. They took the public transport everywhere, until he managed to somehow save up for the rusty old machine he had to repair over and over again.

Shane
➥Well, if even you can't fix it, maybe it's her time to go?

Ilya
➥but i need a car

And that was a problem…how, exactly? Their garage was full of cars. Three of them were Shane's, and he had one more at his cottage, for summers and winters.

Shane
➥Just get one from my garage.

Ilya
➥i need one permanently not just today

Shane
➥As I said, pick one from my garage.

Ilya
➥???

Was he not being clear? He hoped he was. There was no reason for Ilya to stress over his dying old beauty if he could just pick one of the three belonging to Shane.

Shane
➥ We can resign the paperwork in your name.
➥ I mean, you could pick a new car, but there's hardly any place for another one, unless you get rid of yours. I have some contacts with car dealers in the area. I doubt it you want a Jeep, though?

Ilya
➥ hmmmmm
➥ if i say i want a porsche will you buy me porsche

Shane
➥ A sports one? No. They drive too fast.
➥ But a regular one, sure. What colour?

Ilya
➥ well my main concern was that they cost as much as a fucking house baby, but
➥ orange?

Shane
➥ I can look around.

Ilya
➥ wait no
➥ no
➥ shane
➥ dont
➥my car will live a few more months
➥dont buy me porsche

Shane clicked out of the dealership website slowly.

Shane
➥Oh, I thought you wanted one?

Ilya
➥you are insane and i love you so very much but dont buy me porsche i will bring my car back to life
➥i was joking about wanting an orange porsche

Shane
➥You want a different colour, then?

Ilya
➥shane please
➥my car will be fine
➥i have to go again dont buy be porsche when im gone okay?
➥good luck on your exam baby

Shane
➥Okay. Thank you. 
➥😊 

He hopped into his car and drove to uni.

Looking back, he should have known the result before even walking into the exam room.

He started off as always, focused, sharp, looking over the questions and tapping his pen against the paper. After a few minutes, he had to rub his eyes, trying to search his memory. 

He was just a bit tired from the early morning, from the bad day yesterday, from the move, the intensity of this whole week. He studied. He prepared. Maybe less than he would like to, and in less than desirable conditions, late at night, rushed, but…

He answered the questions he could right away and went back to the ones he had to skip. Research examples, definitions, names, specifications, numbers, statistics, evidence-based conclusions all merged in his brain. He could remember the general view of his notes, the color coding he used, the letters rang a bell, but fuck it if he could get it exactly right. It was an itch he couldn't scratch. He glanced at the clock on the wall frantically as the time flowed way too fast. He wrote down his messy answers, biting his lower lip, exhausted, unfocused, they needed to do the rest of the laundry, buy groceries, he caught himself making a mental list instead of rereading the questions, and he kept wondering if the ladies at the daycare will be nice to Raisa now, if the kids will continue to bother her, if he didn't make it all worse, and maybe he should've specifically told Ilya not to start anything, because bitter peace was better than a fair war, and…

"You have fifteen more minutes."

He looked up at the professor, swallowing hard. Focus, fuck, focus.

He didn't answer all the questions. He couldn't. He started mixing up names and dates, and numbers blended together.

He took a big breath as he left the classroom after handing his exam back to the professor.

It can't be that bad. He just needed to pass, which, okay, felt horrible, he was not a just-pass student. He had a scholarship here. He aced all his classes. He hoped he'd get at least an 80%, which was still terribly low for him. 

He should've studied more. He should've slept more today, and maybe used the time he used on the whole laptop affair for rehearsing, but he needed a laptop quickly, he had work tomorrow. Everything overlapped, and he was constantly out of time.

Ilya was waiting by the curb, with the window down and his arm out, smiling at him as Shane rushed to get to the car.

"Hey, smartypants."

Shane sighed deeply, sitting in the passenger's seat.

"Hi, baby." He leaned toward Ilya to kiss him, tension leaving his shoulders at the soft hum Ilya made. Shane looked back and found Raisa in her seat, swinging her legs. Her braid was ruined, of course. "Rai, hello. I see you got your candy."

She beamed at him, chewing a blue one with her mouth half open.

"Yes! Papa gave me."

"Oh, he did now?"

"And he found some for you." Ilya lifted two candy drops in similar blue packaging with a cheeky grin. "As reward for your exam."

Shane accepted the sweets with a blush.

"I don't know the results yet."

"Don't worry, you can still eat the candy. Right, Raisa?" Ilya drove onto the street. Raisa agreed with him. "For your hard work, you get candy."

"I thought it was a prevention method against bad dreams."

"That too. It's multipurpose."

Shane put the candy between his lips, relaxing into the seat.

Exam gone, now onto other things. He put his hand into Ilya's by the gear stick, locking their fingers together.
He asked them both about their days and redirected his tired mind onto the groceries. He grabbed a cart, rolling it into the store, Raisa pulled Ilya's hand towards the pastries alley, pointing to a donut she wanted. She planted her face against the glass, captivated by the sweets behind it.

Shane pulled out his phone and started noting down the necessities. Ilya just walked between the cart and produce, putting vegetables in it in loosely tied plastic bags. 

"We need meat for dinner today and things for Friday." Shane hummed, pushing the cart between the other people shopping at a pace he couldn't find more irritating. Everyone always forgot how to walk in public spaces. "I'll make chicken for my parents."

"Oh, you're doing the cooking?" Ilya chuckled, throwing him an avocado which Shane caught with a shake of his head. "Good luck."

"I got better at that! I have a recipe here." Shane frowned, looking down at his phone. Raisa was digging so deeply in a pile of watermelons that she might just fall into the big box. "Rai, watermelons aren't in season yet. They're not gonna be good."

She couldn't pick the one she chose up. It was too big for her hands.

"I want one!"

Ilya grabbed the fruit with one hand, putting it into the cart.

"I'll make you juice with it."

Shane sighed.

"It's gonna be watery and not very sweet."

"Juice can be watery, and I will add sugar." Ilya smiled at him. "She likes watermelons."

"Fine."

Shane ventured into the meat aisle with the cart, and Raisa dragged Ilya away to look at cereal.

No chicken seemed to be up to Shane's standards as he inspected each one with a stern look. He had a plan for the Friday dinner, he needed more veggies, some rice, spices, but most importantly, good meat. Maybe he should buy a chicken from someplace that wasn't a mass-produced food factory selling watermelons when they weren't even ripe yet.

He sighed deeply, finally settling for one that looked semi-good. He closed the freezer and looked back at his list.

"Shane?"

His head snapped up at the voice, and all blood left his face.

"Patrick." He muttered out. "Hey."

He stood behind his cart motionless, his stupid phone in his hands, looking at the man with his heart stopping.

Patrick didn't change much. He still had the same hairstyle, brown straight hair slicked back, that same fake tan, and crooked smile. He was still handsome in a way Shane didn't really like anymore, too flashy, yet too bland at the same time, a kind of beauty that looked good on camera, but faltered up close. He didn't have Ilya's charm, nor his cute cheeks, wide smile, curls carved out in marble.

If Shane spent more than three seconds looking at Patrick, he felt a rush of embarrassment overcome him. Did he really use to have such a cheap taste? Patrick was the kind of attractive one could see in a reality dating show. Ilya was a classic, golden era of Hollywood movie.

"Hi." Patrick hummed, stepping closer. He licked his lips, putting his hands into his pockets. 

"What are you doing here?"

"Uh, groceries?" Patrick looked around. Shane shook his head.

"Yeah, I mean, I…I thought you moved?"

He hoped Patrick moved. 

"Oh, no, that didn't work out, you know?" Patrick leaned against Shane's cart, looking inside with that awful smug grin Shane always hated on him. Mocking. Overconfident. "You plan on barricading yourself in your apartment for a month?"

"No."

Shane swallowed hard with his mind spinning.

He really didn't need this today.

Or any day, really. He hoped he would never run into Patrick again. He's seen enough of him. He didn't need more of Patrick's tacky voice haunting his brain.

Patrick looked him up and down, planting his hand on the side of the cart.

"You look good."

Shane nodded.

"Thank you."

Patrick huffed with amusement. He wasn't used to Shane knowing he looked good.

He was also clearly waiting for return of the compliment. Shane stayed silent.

"So, what are you up to lately? Your little college thing still going on?"

Little. Shane was in the midst of getting his second degree, planning the next two already.

"Yes." He hummed. "You?"

Patrick shrugged.

"I'm in between jobs now. Kind of trying to figure myself out, you know."

Yes, Shane did know that, as a matter of fact, it was all he ever knew about Patrick's plans for himself. He was always thinking about it, with no real direction, living off his parents' money with no gratitude for it. There used to be a time when Shane believed Patrick had some ambition, even if it didn't have an exact shape, he thought Patrick must have some dreams, some goals. Now he could see there was never even a spark of passion in this whole man. His definition of an eventful life was a belly full of cheap beer and his balls emptied in people willing to give him a chance.

"Yeah." Shane cleared his throat. "Well, I'm pretty busy, so…"

"With what?" Patrick laughed shortly, and a shiver went down Shane's spine. He couldn't count all the times he was interrupted by that same mocking laugh. "It's a real miracle we found each other here, right?"

"I wouldn't call it a miracle, and I wasn't really looking for you, so…"

"How about a drink? At my place?" Patrick motioned between them. "To reminiscence the good old days, and shit. My roommate's out for a few days."

Shane blinked, astounded by the audacity.

"I'm taken." He said quickly, firmly. "Save those lines for someone else."

Patrick clicked his tongue.

"Your boyfriend doesn't have to know everything."

"Excuse me?"

"Shane!"

Shane swayed a bit to the side at the impact of Raisa colliding with his leg as she ran up to him. She wrapped her arms around his waist, looking up.

"Shane, I want parm."

The look on Patrick's face would forever be engraved in Shane's brain.

He looked between them both, stepping away slowly, just a little bit. Raisa wanted to be carried, so Shane leaned down to pick her up.

"We'll get parm." He promised her calmly. "Don't run around the store, sweetheart, you could fall."

Raisa pouted.

"Sorry."

"It's okay, just be careful."

She glanced at Patrick, leaning closer to Shane in his arms. Patrick stuttered for a second.

"Who's that? You have a kid now? And she's….what's that fucking accent?"

"Hey." Shane huffed. "Don't curse."

Raisa was a bit stiff in his arms, uneasy. She had a wonderfully evolved sense of stranger-danger. She didn't like Patrick already. Shane couldn't blame her.

"I'm sorry, it's just…" Patrick chuckled, gesturing towards them. "Funny."

"What is funny?"

Shane's head turned at the sound of Ilya's voice. 

Raisa relaxed a bit at the proximity, and with her, Shane's tense shoulders did as well, when Ilya stood by their side, wrapping one arm around Shane's waist, pulling them closer. Patrick had to lift his chin to look at him. He was much shorter than Shane, impossibly shorter than Ilya. A confused, amused look spread across his face.

"I'm sorry, what is going on here?"

Shane fixed Raisa on his hip.

"This is my family."

"Your what?"

The last time they saw each other, if Shane remembered correctly, Patrick told him he'll never find anyone who'll last longer than a month by his side. That any guy bullshitting about liking him was full of pity. That his money and looks were the only desirable traits Shane had. That all Shane was was a burden, and he brought this onto himself.

"His family." Ilya repeated, brushing his thumb against Shane's waist as his eyes stayed put on Patrick. "And you are?"

Before Patrick could speak, Shane inhaled. 

"He's an old colleague from business school." He explained. Patrick raised his eyebrows. 

"Colleague?"

Shane shrugged. 

"Well, I could never call you my boyfriend, could I?"

"That's not…"

"Baby?" Ilya asked, squeezing Shane's hip lightly. Both Raisa and Shane looked up at the word. "Do you have everything for our dinner with your parents?"

Patrick, seemingly unaware he was being left out of the conversation, blinked. 

"You never introduced me to your parents." He muttered at Shane.

Shane didn't have to speak. Ilya did it for him. 

"He must have had his reasons for that." Ilya tilted his head, staring Patrick down. "I am sure you're very busy. Goodbye." 

Patrick huffed, stepping closer. Ilya straightened up by Shane's side, pulling him and Raisa back instinctively. 

"What's that accent? Where are you from?"

Shane clenched his teeth, a familiar, striking rush sinking into his heart. He's heard that tone too many times. He fought with Patrick like this endlessly. 

"Leave it, Patrick."

"Russia." Ilya answered. Patrick laughed so loud that a few people at the end of the aisle looked at them. 

"You got a Russian now? Nice." Patrick nodded at Shane. "Step up from the Puerto Rican last time."

Each of his words pulled at Shane's nerves, clenching into him like claws. Each of his words fed the panic rising in Shane's brain. 

"Stop it."

"Between you and me…" Patrick looked up at Ilya with a grin. "He's been fucking run through at college. You should hear some of the stories, man…"

Raisa moved in Shane's arms, worried. She couldn't understand, but she felt the tension. Shane hugged her tighter, not able to decide if he should protect her from this shit show, himself, or stop Ilya from hearing, as if he could disable his ears. 

Ilya's eyes darkened as he stared a hole through the man in front of him. 

"Don't curse in front of my daughter." He said calmly. "Leave us."

"I mean, it was so easy, you know?" Patrick seemed not to understand the serious look on Ilya's face. "Anyone could have a chance."

Shane felt his lower lip trembling slightly. 

Stop talking. 

Stop fucking talking. 

"Pat." He tried again, turning into that pathetic eighteen-year-old kid again. He could never win a fight with Patrick. "Stop."

Patrick chewed on the inside of his cheek, still smiling at Ilya. 

"I'd like to say congrats, but it's not exactly difficult to get Shane. Maybe good luck will be more appropriate."

"He asked you to stop." Ilya let go of Shane's waist to step so close to Patrick, the man had to take a step back not to fall. "And I'm asking you to get out of this store."

"Yeah? Or what?"

Ilya motioned for Shane to cover Raisa's ears. Shane gently pressed her head into his shoulder, covering the remaining one with his hand. 

"I don't want to fuck your face up in here." Ilya grabbed Patrick's jacket and pulled him closer. "Poor workers would have to clean your blood off this white freezer, yes? Those fake teeth you have won't look nice inside people's dinner either. Shut the fuck up and leave."

Patrick swallowed, looking up with disoriented, panicked eyes. 

"I was just joking, relax." He tried to remove Ilya's hand with no result. "I'm going, alright, Jesus."

Ilya didn't let him walk by. 

"Apologise to Shane first."

"Ilya." Shane sighed. "It's fine."

"Is not. Is not polite to insult people and not apologise." Ilya raised his eyebrows at Patrick's silence. "Apologise to my boyfriend."

Patrick looked between them, still trapped with Ilya's hand closed on his jacket and shirt. 

"Sorry." 

Ilya shook his head slowly. 

"Properly apologise."

"I'm sorry, Shane." He muttered. "Can I fucking go now?"

Ilya pushed him hard enough for Patrick to have to shift his feet to stay up. 

"Go."

Shane watched Patrick turn on his heel and flee between the shelves of the aisle, shaking his head in fury. Ilya exhales slowly, more tired than irritated.

His expression only changed as he looked at Shane.

"You are okay?"

Shane nodded with a tight throat.

The lights were too bright, the air dry and cold, Raisa was heavy on his arm, and his stomach was all twisted, memories flooding his brain with no way to stop them. He felt lightheaded. The colors of the world desaturated. He was not there. 

"Yes." He whispered, lifting Raisa up. "Can you take her?"

The simple worrying thought of dropping her pushed through the haze that blinded him. Ilya gently took the girl from him, furrowing his eyebrows as he kept looking at Shane's pale face.

"Shanya?"

Shane shook his head, already stepping back.

"I'm sorry, I need…I need a moment." 

His legs guided him on their own as he almost ran out of the store.

The first deep breath of fresh air made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. In the last moment of awareness, he figured to go behind the corner of the building, putting one hand on the wall as he bent, throwing up.

His whole body shook while the nerves flowed out through his mouth. He hoped the days when he had to puke because of Patrick's stupid words were long gone. He held no love for him in his heart anymore, but his body remembered everything. Every cell of his screamed as if he were held at gunpoint.

He choked out whatever was left in his stomach, took out a tissue, and cleaned his stupid lips. His eyes were teary. Idiot.

Now Ilya will think he's some fucking psycho that can't act like a grown human being while running into his ex at the grocery store.

He leaned against the wall, breathing deeply and looking up at the sky. He hoped he didn't scare Raisa with this. 

It was fucking unfair.

After everything, Patrick was able to be totally fine, arrogantly trying to first humiliate Shane with that half-assed hookup offer, and then doing everything in his power to sour Shane's image in Ilya's head? Shane almost wished Patrick would be dumb enough to try to start shit with Ilya and end up knocked out on the floor. Then again, Raisa didn't have to see such things. 

Shane wiped his face and walked back to the store entrance. He almost got run over by his own cart.

"Shane!" Raisa was sitting in the kids' seat of the cart, waving at him. "Where you went?"

Shane blinked, glancing up at progressively worried Ilya.

"I just needed some air. Sorry."

"You're okay?" Ilya hummed, reaching his hand out to Shane to pull him closer as he held the cart. Shane nodded, leaning into his side for a second. "Let's go home, yes?"

"You paid?" Shane looked at the groceries with a groan. "I wanted to pay."

"You pay next time. We split now, remember?"

Shane did agree on taking turns with buying the groceries. It didn't mean he planned on executing that agreement. He hoped he would be first to take out his card at any time, it was the least he could do.

Shane nodded weakly, following them to the car.

He helped Ilya pack the groceries into the bags with shaking hands. A paranoid part of him started believing Ilya wouldn't even want to touch the produce Shane did, as if his disgusting past could transfer through a box of yogurt.

Ilya was acting normal. It was astounding how normal he was being. He strapped Raisa into her seat, closed the trunk, and told Shane to sit in the car as he returned the shopping cart.

Shane bit on his fingernail, listening to Raisa singing some Russian song in the backseat. He swallowed hard as Ilya joined them, starting the car. Pushed himself up against the cardoor, trying to take up as little space as he could.

Run through.

Ilya will break up with him.

Ilya will never want to touch him again.

It might take some time, but it was inevitable.

"Sweetheart?"

Shane looked up, blinking away the burning in his eyes. Ilya lifted his hand by the gear shift, expectantly.

Shane slowly moved his hand to interlock their fingers as Ilya drove. He pressed his lips together when Ilya's thumb brushed against his knuckle.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, not really sure what he was apologising for exactly. For running out of the store? For acting weird? For Patrick's words? Maybe for all of it. For being like this, on the most important week of their relationship so far, when he should be put together, calm, stable, a rock Ilya could lean on, not a liability.

"We'll talk at home." Ilya answered, squeezing his hand around Shane's.

Shane kept his face straight for the rest of the ride.

They unpacked the groceries, as Shane liked: milk on the fridge door, cheese all on one shelf, pesto with sauces, greens lined up in the plastic drawer, eggs taken out and put in the dispenser, yogurts stacked in twos. He listened to Raisa's daycare story with one ear, excused himself before dinner to wash his face and mouth, and then joined Ilya in cutting carrots into stripes. Ilya bumped their hips together.

"Look at you." He teased with a sweet tone. "You will be next Gordon Ramsay soon."

"Shut up. I'm getting better. I haven't burned anything in ages."

"Mhmm." Ilya pointed with the knife to Shane's carrots. "Thinner, please."

Shane rolled his eyes with a soft smile, obeying. He wasn't used to cooking before Ilya, he usually ordered or ate in restaurants with his parents. Ilya was a master at home-cooked meals, he had to be, with Raisa around. 

They ate, and a bit of the heavy weight on Shane's shoulders evaporated. He did the dishes as Ilya prepared Raisa's coloring book and her favorite nighttime cartoon in the living room.

Shane's head lowered on its own when he felt Ilya's arms wrapping around his waist slowly.

"Meet me in the bedroom when you're done?"

Shane swallowed.

"We don't have to talk about it. Thank you for chasing him away."

"We talk." Ilya kissed his neck softly. "Raisa is busy with her cartoon. Is okay."

Shane nodded weakly, drying off the last plate.

He joined Ilya in the bedroom with a tight knot in his stomach again. But Ilya wasn't angry, Ilya just sat on the bed, petting the spot beside him with gentle eyes.

"Come."

Shane closed the door and dragged his feet.

"I'm sorry for running off. I felt bad."

He sat on the bed, pulling his knees up against his chest. Ilya tilted his head.

"Why?"

"Just…memories, I guess."

"Bad memories?"

"Yes." Shane admitted, and Ilya exhaled slowly, shaking his head. "Please, don't be mad at me."

Ilya frowned at him.

"Why would I be mad? He was asshole, yes?"

"Yeah, but…"

"He used to talk to you that way?"

This is what Shane hoped he'd avoid. He already felt helpless.

He kept his gaze on the floor, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"We were dating when I was in business school. For eight months or so. I didn't…I didn't want him to say anything, I never wanted to tell you about him, because I was just…I was fucking pathetic at the time. He cheated on me, many times, and I did nothing, I just let him. I stayed with him. We argued so much, we never talked normally, and I didn't want you to think, to know I was this weak, miserable loser."

He was fucking lamentable at the time. He knew Patrick slept around, he tried stopping him, but couldn't, he kept believing he'll change, be better, apologise. Patrick stopped hiding it at some point. He'd roll off Shane in bed to text someone else he'll be at their place in half an hour, and then shrug when Shane cried with a tight throat, asking him to stay.

Ilya rubbed his hand against the small of Shane's back.

"He was a loser, not you." He murmured, as if he was shocked he had to say it. "How old were you?"

"Eighteen." Shane wiped his nose with the back of his hand. "Old enough to know better, I guess, but…I just started college, and was figuring things out, he was sort of my first real boyfriend, I came out to my parents, and I just wanted it to work out. The things he said, about me being easy or, or something, it's not true, I let him fuck me early on, cause I thought we were in love. And then, when we broke up, I just wanted something, someone else, so I dated a few guys in a short time, but I wasn't…I needed to have someone."

Ilya exhaled a harsh Russian word. Probably a curse. His hand was still careful and gentle against Shane's back.

"I should've punched him."

"Ilya…"

"What a fucking asshole." Ilya shook his head, lowering to press a kiss against Shane's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

Shane shuddered slightly at the contact. His body wasn't sure how to react to something so heavy being handled with so much love.

"I'm not like that anymore." He tried to clarify. "I'm not so needy or…I don't just accept everything, I changed a lot, and I'm not…"

Ilya kissed his shoulder again, firmly.

"Is not your fault he was so bad."

Shane huffed quietly.

"My fault for letting him."

"No. You were young and in love."

Shane closed his eyes.

"I don't know if it was real love. It was weird and messy, it wasn't…not how I love you."

Ilya smiled softly against his shoulder. 

"Come here."

Shane looked at him with raised eyebrows.

"You want me to?"

You want me?

Ilya leaned back, patting his lap.

"Come."

Shane launched forward, making Ilya laugh at the urgency. He sat in Ilya's lap, wrapping his arms and legs around him as Ilya hugged him tightly, holding him so dearly.

He relaxed slowly, keeping his hand in Ilya's curls. 

"I'm sorry he treated you like that. Is not what you deserved." Ilya hummed and kissed the side of Shane's head. "Was not your fault, yes? And he was lying about you. Saying bullshit. He was jealous because you are still beautiful, and he is very ugly."

Shane groaned.

"He was always ugly. I used to have bad taste."

"Now you have good taste."

"How humble of you to say."

Ilya squeezed his sides playfully.

"Fuck that guy. Are you feeling better? You were very nervous."

"Yeah. I threw up behind the store."

"What?" Ilya leaned back to look at him. "Really?"

Shane nodded, rubbing his tired eyes. 

"I just remembered all the arguments, and I really hoped I'd never see him again. I thought he moved to the States. He made me believe I was so worthless that I would never get anything good. That the shit he gave me was the best I'd ever have, and now I have you and Raisa, and I'm so happy, and he doesn't get to ruin that. Was Rai okay?"

Ilya nodded.

"Yes, she is okay. She just asked if you're fine, I told her you need to get some fresh air, because the store stank." 

"Well, it did stink, now that you say that."

"Did he really say bullshit like that?" Ilya furrowed his eyebrows. "He is idiot?"

Shane shrugged.

"Yeah. A bit."

"A lot bit idiot. You are wonderful. You're the best I could ask for, you know?" Ilya rubbed his hands against Shane's thighs. "For me and for Raisa. Nothing about your past, no stupid, jealous asshole will ever change that. I know you. I love you."

Shane nodded, pressing their foreheads together.

"I love you, too. You don't think I'm pathetic?"

"I think you had too much mercy on that prick, yes. But that is how you are, yes? You are forgiving and lovely, and you see good in people. You saw good in me."

Shane chuckled.

"It's not hard to see good in you, Ilya. You know that."

"Hmm. Really?" Ilya clicked his tongue, teasing again. "Tell me."

Fishing for compliments, as always. Shane smiled, holding his face in his hands.

"Well, you're really handsome, for starters."

"Ah. You wound me, starting with my looks. I am more than my very handsome face."

"And perfect hair."

"And perfect hair! Yes."

Shane giggled, pressing a soft kiss against Ilya's lips.

"You're very understanding, kind, attentive. You're hardworking. You're funny, and smart, and responsible. You're a good kisser."

Ilya hummed, kissing him in response.

"And?"

"And good in bed, but you know that."

"How good? Better than Patrick?"

Shane hit his shoulder lightly, rolling his eyes.

"Yes, and you have an enormous ego."

"What is enormous?"

"Huge."

"Ah. Like my dick."

"I hate you."

He laughed as Ilya just kissed him again.

They stayed like this until Raisa knocked on the door, asking for another episode of her cartoon. They joined her. She got her Tamagotchi and squeaked in happiness unpacking it. Shane spent the evening wrapped in a blanket against Ilya's side, watching TV with his family.

Chapter End Notes

patrick do you know you have thirty minutes?

Chapter 4: Thursdays are for doubts.

Chapter Summary

Shane thinks he's about to have a nice, calm day, from beggining to end. Thinks.

Chapter Notes

Shane stretched in bed, slowly waking up.

Someone was talking to him, and there was a kiss pressed to his head, and he could smell coffee. He reached to his right, where Ilya should be, and after a moment of struggle, he found Ilya's hand. 

"Shanya."

He opened his eyes slowly, his eyelids were stuck together. Ilya was sitting at the edge of the mattress, in his sweatpants and an old t-shirt, with wet hair and a coffee in his hand.

"I made you coffee."

"What?"

"Coffee. For you."

Shane wiped his eyes, frowning. Ilya was laughing now. 

"You look cute."

"Fuck off."

"No, I won't." Ilya leaned down to kiss his forehead again. "I also made you your avocado toast."

That managed to wake Shane up a bit more. He yawned, sitting up against the headboard. His toasts were indeed on the nightstand, and Ilya handed him a steaming cup.

"Thank you. Why are you up already?" Shane looked at the clock. "It's not even seven yet."

Ilya shrugged. He looked comfy, if a bit tired, fresh, soft, Shane wanted to burrow his face in that beige t-shirt.

"I woke up early to do laundry."

Shane took a sip of the coffee, confused.

"What?"

"We had a lot of laundry to do. Three rounds." Ilya rubbed his neck, still sleepy. "Today we can organise kitchen."

Shane took another sip of the coffee, coming back alive.

"I could've helped you with the laundry."

Ilya shrugged, setting his hand on Shane's knee.

"You had a long day yesterday."

He sounded so understanding, calm, it was a clear, obvious reason, not underlined with any complaint. Shane looked at him.

"You did, too. Wait, did you manage to get that car ready? I don't know if I asked."

Ilya sent him a soft smile.

"Yes. Is good." 

"You were pretty stressed about it."

"Is just work. No big deal."

But it was, it was a big deal, and Shane fully forgot about it. Between the mess of Tuesday, the exam, and seeing Patrick, everything else got blurred out.

"I'm sorry I'm a bit all over the place." Shane ran a hand through his messy hair. "It's been a long week."

Ilya chuckled.

"It's Thursday."

"Yeah, I know."

He smiled gently as Ilya kissed his cheek.

"It will be less chaotic soon. We can have more time for each other."

They hadn't had sex in a week. Well, they did, they just didn't come. Shane was getting irritated at it, Ilya was always so stunning, and there was simply no time to appreciate him enough.

Shane just nodded and looked at the plate with the toasts.

"Have you eaten today?"

"I had a yogurt. I'm gonna make myself some eggs when Rai wakes up." Ilya scratched his nose. He looked tired, in a cute, disheveled way. "Want to eat this here or in kitchen?"

"Kitchen's fine."

"Right. No crumbs in bed."

"You know it."

He got out of bed and couldn't even grab his plate as Ilya was already picking it up. He also took the coffee from him, and ordered Shane to go to the bathroom first, wash his puppy eyes as he called them.

The laundry bin was indeed empty. The washer and dryer too. No clothes waited to be put away on the counter, so Ilya sorted them out on his own, folded everything, and put it into their closet and drawer. Shane had to focus on not getting hard at the image in his head. In his defense, it was a shit ton of laundry.

He brushed his teeth, washed his face, and went to the kitchen a bit more awake. Ilya put his breakfast on the island. 

At first, Shane only noticed the kitchen was cleaner than yesterday. All counters were wiped and shiny, and the few cups that they left to dry on the sink were put away. There was nothing on the island, as Shane liked, only his plate and coffee.

Then, he noticed the living room table.

It was full of all the things Ilya had brought in on Monday: the cutlery, the ceramics, bowls, strainers, pots, mugs. Sorted into categories, lined up, waiting. Shane frowned, looking between the table and the kitchen.

"You took your things out?"

"Hm?" Ilya glanced at him as he was slowly preparing a pan for his food. "Yeah. Easier to organise."

"You didn't…you didn't have to." Shane stuttered out. Ilya took even the straws out of the drawer he had previously squeezed them into. "Why are they there?"

Ilya pointed to the kitchen island.

"You like it empty."

Ilya had to drop the spatula when Shane crowded him against the counter.

He laughed at first, kissing him back, grabbing Shane's face in his hands. Then, he exhaled slowly, shifting on his feet to stand more firmly while Shane knelt in front of him.

"You are so weird, Hollander."

Shane smacked Ilya's hip with his hand in response before pulling his sweatpants down and sucking on the tip of his cock. Ilya's teasing tone turned to a breathy whisper in Russian. His fingers found themselves in Shane's black hair.

Maybe it was weird, Shane didn't fucking care. His laundry was done and put away, his kitchen was clean, the island empty, and the utensils all lined up, waiting for him to decide where to put them. He opened his mouth wider, closing his eyes as he took Ilya in, licking the underside of his dick slowly. 

Ilya shuddered, gently brushing Shane's hair back. That would not do. Shane lifted his hand to move Ilya's on the back of his head, bopping it quickly, lifting a bit on his knees to get a better angle. 

"Ah, you want to get fucked?" Ilya purred, holding him steady. "Want me to fuck your pretty lips?"

Shane nodded, inhaling Ilya's musky scent as he swallowed around him. 

He moaned quietly when Ilya grabbed his head with both of his hands, rocking his hips roughly against him. 

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

Nothing could compare to having Ilya like this, quick, wet, desperate. He had to loosen his jaw more and closed his eyes, heat rushing through him at the heavy, hot pressure stretching his throat. Ilya's fists were closed on Shane's hair like he could have any suspicion Shane would want to move away.

He thrusted into Shane's mouth, and kept him close, leaning his body forward. Shane sucked hard, breathing heavily through his nose, digging his fingers into Ilya's thighs. Tiny, hot tears escaped through the corners of his eyes at the intensity.

The noise Ilya made, half-masked, half-free, a low, gutteral groan he desperately tried to keep down, could make Shane come untouched if repeated. He swallowed and choked for a second, dragging his lips over Ilya's softening cock, stopping at the tip to suck him dry. 

"Oh, fuck." Ilya breathed, slouched against the counter. His knees bent, weak. "Shane."

He tried tugging Shane away, but Shane simply hummed, milking him for every drop until Ilya's cock slipped out of his mouth. He wiped his lips elegantly, standing up and tucking Ilya's clothes back in place.

"Good?" He asked, looking at Ilya, even if the man could barely hold his head up. Ilya nodded. "I missed tasting you."

Ilya whined a bit at the words, pulling him in for a long, filthy kiss, licking his own cum out of Shane's mouth. 

"Missed you, too." Ilya hummed, biting Shane's lower lip. "Let me blow you in the shower?"

Shane smiled.

"Why not here?"

"Baby, we are lucky Raisa didn't wake up yet. I'm not risking more."

"Shit. Right." Shane chuckled, pressing another kiss against Ilya's lips. "I forgot."

Sucking your boyfriend off in the middle of the open-concept kitchen while a toddler slept a few rooms over was probably not Shane's best idea, but who could blame him? Ilya did laundry.

The shower was quick, and afterwards, Shane was absolutely starving. Ilya made him cum in a few short minutes, fingered him during, and smiled like the devil, licking his lips as he stood up. Shane got dressed and brushed his hair while Ilya put one of his fancy conditioners into his drying hair.

"I think we need to sync our showers." Shane said. "So we don't end up taking like, four a day."

Ilya already showered in the morning, and now with Shane again, and he always needed a shower after work. It seemed inefficient, time-management-wise.

Ilya nodded, standing so close that their shoulders were constantly touching.

"You like showering in the evening."

"And you need showering in the evening."

"What would we do with Raisa during that time?"

Shane thought for a moment. Raisa needed their attention in the afternoons and evenings. Food needed to be done, the house needed to be cleaned, preparations for the next day finished, playtime ensured, bedtime book read.

"Hm. Maybe mornings, then?" Shane sighed, checking his damp hair in the mirror. "We can shower together in the morning, and then take turns in the evenings, so she's not alone."

"We need to wake up earlier, then."

"Yeah." Shane rubbed his tired eyes. "Can we manage to get to sleep sooner? This week wrecked me a bit, sleep-wise."

Ilya shrugged.

"You stay up too late."

"Cause I need to catch up on studying and work."

Ilya leaned against the sink, thinking with his arms crossed on his chest.

"Maybe you can go do that before dinner? Just go to your office for an hour or two."

Shane frowned, uncomfortable at the thought.

"I want to hang around with you and Rai. We don't get much time off anyway, and she always has stories to tell."

Ilya smiled softly at that.

"And Mario Kart races to win."

"She's getting so much better at that. Soon enough she'll be winning without us letting her."

"You let her win?" Ilya feigned shock. "What? I thought you were just so shit at Mario Kart."

Shane laughed and bumped their shoulders together. No solution came up, so they left the issue as it was, to figure out later.

He ate breakfast at last, drank his cold coffee, and smiled as Ilya brought Raisa into the kitchen. She was still sleepy against his chest, with her arms hanging from Ilya's frame and her hair messy.

"Hello, Raisa." Shane whispered at her. "Are you awake?"

Raisa shook her head.

"No."

"Ah, okay. Goodnight, then."

"Night."

Ilya rolled his eyes gently, rubbing her back and cooing soft Russian words at her to stir her awake. He made his eggs like this, with Raisa on one of his arms. After a few minutes, she kept one eye open, looking at Shane, who smiled as stupidly as he could, and giggled as she laughed at him, hiding her face in Ilya's t-shirt.

Ilya pressed his lips to Raisa's bright hair.

"What are you laughing about?"

Raisa glanced at Shane and hid her face away.

"On ulybayetsya mne!"

"Kto on?"

"Shane!"

"Shane ulybayetsya tebe?"

"Da!"

"Ah. Ulybnis' yemu."

Raisa smiled at him, waving, as if Shane wasn't just a few feet away.

Raisa was leaving with Ilya today, again, and Shane was briefly left to his own devices.

He had to be at the office after noon, but now, he was technically free to do whatever. He cleaned up after breakfast, smoothed out the sheets on the made bed, and got dressed. He could avoid his boys for a while longer, he had no energy for bars, snappy conversations, hockey talk, but he could use a bit of Rose's company. She did text him multiple times about coffee.

They were meeting in the neighbourhood, in one of their favorite spots. He tried taking Ilya there a few times, but Ilya often wanted to pay the bill, and if he was forbidden, he tried ordering the cheapest thing on the menu. Their ideas of expensive were vastly different. Ilya got his cup of coffee for work for three dollars, Shane once thought twenty was a reasonable price. 

He got to the coffee shop, ran a hand through his hair, and searched for Rose. She was sitting in the back, scrolling on her phone with her hair up in a bun, a cozy sweater on her back. Shane tapped the table as he got to it.

"Hey."

Rose looked up and smiled brightly, standing to hug him.

"Hi! Jesus, I feel like it's been ages since I last saw you."

"Not ages, maybe a month?" Shane sat down opposite her, smiling back. "I got busy."

"I know! You have to tell me everything. I ordered you your special…something."

"Thank you." Shane got his jacket off and settled into the chair. "How have you been?"

Rose waved her hand.

"Work, work, work, you know it. I'm producing a feature with my brothers, and I can't believe we were raised by the same people sometimes. No work ethic."

Shane giggled.

"Well, that's working with family for you."

"I love them, but, ugh." She rubbed the bridge of her nose. "I got a few days off, thankfully."

"What's the feature about?"

Rose was happy to share a bit of the torture with him, complaining until their coffees arrived. She was always so funny when she complained, eloquent with it, practical, not whiny. She made any problem seem like an amusing obstacle, rather than the end of the world. Long days were an inconvenience, but never a bore for her. Shane sipped on his coffee, with arms crossed on the table, listening and smiling gently at her descriptions.

"Can I fire my own kin? Is that allowed?" She asked, and Shane shrugged.

"Probably, yes. I don't think there's a law against it."

"Maybe I should send out those corporate emails about layoffs. The ones you can't even reply to." She joined her hands under her chin, taking a longer breath. "Enough about my stupid brothers, how was your move?"

"I didn't move."

"You know what I mean!" She kicked him under the table, and lifted her hand with a gasp. "Wait! I have something for you, I almost forgot."

She reached into her bag and, before Shane could object, handed him a folded T-shirt.

"What is this?" He asked, suspicious, opening it up. Rose beamed at him.

"I told you I'd buy you one. Seems like the right time, don't you think?"

He straightened up the T-shirt in the air. It was soft, black, with white, pressed-on letters on the front.

I'm not the stepfather, I'm the father that stepped up.

Shane lowered the shirt slowly onto his lap.

"You're kidding."

"I promised!" Rose laughed, gesturing towards the shirt. "It's cotton, as you like."

"I can't wear this! I thought we were joking!"

A lifetime ago, when he was going on his second date with Ilya, Rose offered to buy him this shirt as he planned the day to include Raisa. They went ice skating. He smiled softly as he remembered just how nervous Ilya was back then, with the little girl hiding behind his leg, still unbelieving Shane wanted to get to know him better when he had a whole toddler to take care of.

The stupid tee might fit if he were making it these days.

He folded it, quiet, and Rose's smile faded.

"What? You don't like it?"

Shane swallowed hard.

"It's nice. Thank you."

"Shane."

He glanced up at her.

"I don't think it's right for me to wear this."

Rose frowned, confused beyond imagination. 

"Why the hell not?"

He put the shirt away, looking down at his coffee.

"I don't want to assume anything."

"What are you talking about? Raisa loves you."

"Maybe, but she never called me anything like this. It's not my decision to make, I'm just…I'm her dad's boyfriend. Maybe more of an uncle?"

Rose groaned, scrunching up her nose.

"Uncle is reserved for dad's friends, even those you saw twice in your entire life. You live with her. You take care of her. You sleep with her father in the same bed every night now."

"Okay, well…"

"She needed a second parent, and you literally stepped up to it. What's not clear?" She giggled, watching him for a few seconds. "What's going on?"

Shane took a sip of his coffee, not sure where to even start.

"A lot is going on." He admitted. "I don't know if I'm doing the best I can."

Rose looked at him, more serious now, with her head tilted and brows furrowed.

"What do you mean?" She asked softly. "Are you okay?"

He nodded, truthfully. He was okay in many ways.

"Yes. No one has made me happier than Ilya and Raisa do."

"That's not what I asked about."

Shane scratched his nose, thinking. 

"I don't want you to think I'm some lazy complainer."

Rose laughed at that, reaching out for his hand.

"I'd never think that. Tell me what's happening. Are you and Ilya having problems?"

"No." Shane shook his head at once. "No, he's…he's so good to me. I just feel so guilty about the fact he has to, you know?"

"Has to? Why?" Rose blinked, tapping the table. "From the beginning, Shane."

He took a longer breath, going through everything that has happened this week in his head.

"The move-in was messy and a bit chaotic, but that's just how move-ins are, right? Monday was just long, and weird, and I didn't have a lot of time, and I had to stay up studying, and missed a lot of time with Ilya and Rai." He said quietly. "I got angry at the tiniest things, and when I went to bed, Ilya was sleeping already."

Rose nodded, clearly not that worried about his words.

"Yeah, that happens sometimes."

"I wanted the day to be good, Rose."

"You mean, you wanted it to be perfect. As you always do." She raised her eyebrows, already knowing the answer. "Changes are big, and scary, and overwhelming sometimes."

"Yeah, I know they are. I fucked up." He exhaled heavily, continuing when Rose stared at him. "It's a huge change for them. New neighbourhood, new apartment, Raisa has her own room now, Ilya's never lived in a place like this, we had to figure out logistics, and packing, and he had this battle with his landlord over the deposit, and I didn't do enough to help. I was all over the place. I snapped at him for moving my notes around."

"Oh, I meant…"

"And then, on Tuesday, I got a flat tire, got flooded, stood up by a client, had to ask Ilya for help with the car, which made him stay at work longer, and I picked up Raisa, and the daycare lady didn't know who I was, so there was this huge misunderstanding when she thought I was a kidnapper or something. Raisa started crying, and couldn't stop, because I didn't know how to help, I couldn't understand her. My laptop got drenched in water, and I spent the evening thinking about how to fix it, instead of figuring out how to calm her down properly, she had a nightmare that night, which was also my fault, I just eased her down to a stable level, I should've spent more time with her, explain how things are, how she's not at fault…"

"Shane."

"Also, I didn't study enough for my final exam, so it probably went shitty. Oh, and I was also too tired for it, cause me and Ilya tried to have morning sex at last and failed, and there was so much laundry to do, I just lost all motivation." Shane wiped his face roughly. "I met Patrick yesterday, threw up behind a store, Ilya had to talk me down later, I keep fucking up the simplest things, I'm constantly running out of time, nothing in my flat is organised properly, I can't relax, and now, when I should be at the top of my game helping Ilya and Raisa settle in, they have to hold me together like I'm gonna fall apart every other day. I'm a lost fucking cause this week."

"Shane." Rose repeated, firmer now, looking at him. "I meant that changes are big and overwhelming for you. I meant you, not Ilya and Raisa."

He huffed quietly.

"I'm fine with changes."

"Shane, sweetheart…oh, Jesus Christ." Rose rubbed her temples. "I hardly caught all that. You met Patrick?"

He nodded weakly.

"Ilya had to chase him away."

"Ilya's your boyfriend, it's kind of his job."

"He's got enough going on. Raisa, his work is so demanding, he's constantly stressed, he's never lived with a partner before, we haven't fucked properly in like two weeks…"

"All of this can be applied to you as well." Rose waved her hand towards him. "You also take care of Raisa. Your work is also demanding. You're more stressed than I can imagine, you've never lived with a boyfriend, or anyone, for that matter, and you, too, haven't gotten laid in two weeks."

Shane shrugged.

"Yeah, but I can handle it. I mean, I should be able to."

"Why? Why is it any different when you need some help?"
"I don't need help. I'm fine." He planted his hands flat against the table. "It's just a long week, and I'm definitely cursed with how bad my luck is. That's all."

Rose looked at him like she didn't believe a single word that left his mouth.

"I know that from the beginning of your relationship with Ilya, you've been the one that's more…put together."

"Ilya is very put together."

"Yes, okay, but you were in a better position back then. Right? You've got way more money than he does, and you're naturally so caring, you want to do everything for everyone, especially your boyfriend and his kid, I get that, but you're not a superhuman."

Shane frowned.

"I know that."

He can try to be superhuman. It's the least he could do in response to the love he was receiving.

He owes it to Ilya, for sticking around. For staying. For loving him, even when he's like this: messy, uneasy, difficult, weird about kitchen organisation and simultaneously so needy for him, and so stiff, he either didn't have the energy to finish having sex in their bed, or randomly decided to blow Ilya when he looked nice at the brink of dawn.

Rose rested her head on her hand.

"Do you really?"

"Yes." Shane lied. "Of course. I know, it's just…a hellish week. I need to adjust, I need to relax, I know."

For Ilya. For Raisa. For his parents. Everyone counted on him. He can't keep being this way, can't have one fuck-up after another, and then Ilya has to put him back together.

Maybe he should do something nice for him. That's an idea. One that settled his nerves a bit, and redirected his thoughts as Rose squeezed his hand.

"Don't be too hard on yourself. You're doing great, it's just a bad time."

"Not that bad." He smiled fondly. "I mean, it's great, having them close. It's everything I ever wanted. I'm introducing Rai to my parents tomorrow."

Rose clapped.

"Finally! Are they coming over for dinner? What are you making?"

He showed her the recipe on his phone, and she was thankfully distracted enough to change the subject to food, and wine, and that one dinner party she was to one week ago. 

They hugged goodbye after an hour, he promised to text her, and walked to the nearest flower shop.

The bouquets were absurdly large. Ilya's was bigger, of course, but they were matching, filled with roses, bellflowers, and camellias in various colours. He walked with them to his flat and arranged them both on the counter, leaving a tiny card in front of the two vases. For Raisa and her Papa - from Shane.

Fuck, now that Ilya put the idea in his head, he really wanted to buy him that orange Porsche, but in order for it to be truly Ilya's, Ilya would have to sign the paperwork, and he'd never agree to Shane spending this much money on him. He was getting better at receiving gifts, but maybe not this kind of gift. Something smaller, perhaps, for now? 

Keys. Right. 

He vaguely remembered Ilya liked his Chevrolet the most. It was possibly the closest thing Shane could have that resembled a sports car in any way, it was way slimmer and lower than his trusty Toyota. He bought it for weekend trips, used it maybe four times in a year. 

He found the keys to the Chevrolet, carefully planted them among the flowers of Ilya's bouquet, and gave them a firm nod. Good.

He searched his memory for more ideas while he packed for work. He took a cab so he could scroll on his phone during the ride. He hasn't bought Ilya a new game for his Switch in a while. Ilya was still finishing up Zelda, but a new title couldn't hurt. Something chill. Relaxing. Pretty. 

He found a game, something about a farm. He made sure he would be able to pick it up from the store on his way home, and added those color-changing lights to the list. He'll replace the lightbulbs in Raisa's room tonight. 

He got to Hollander's family office.

A bit downtown, David liked the nature there. Big, white building, they had an entire floor to themselves. Shane waved at the front desk lady, not bothering to take out his card to swipe it through the gate. The lady opened it for him.

His heart sped up as he waited for the elevator. He still hadn't told his dad about Gillman, but he hoped he could reach the damn survey CEO today with a few emails and precisely timed calls. 

He'll set this right, somehow.

"Hi, Vera." He smiled at one of their finance managers, a twenty-five-year-old prodigy. She looked up from her monitor, smiling back.

"Hey, Shane." His name rolled off her tongue with slight hesitation. He had to continuously remind her there was no need to call him sir, or Mr Hollander. She was older than him, dammit. And if anyone here was a Mr Hollander, it was his dad. "We haven't seen you here in forever!"

"Life duties, sorry."

"College?"

"Yeah, that too. I'm finishing up the year." He stopped by her desk, glancing at her work. She was online shopping. She clicked out of the window and back to the spreadsheets in a second, and Shane just giggled. "What are you buying?"

"Nothing! Nothing." Vera shook her head. "That was from my break, I just, uh, finished."

"Show me."

She groaned, reluctantly clicking back on the browser. Expensive perfume. She looked terrified half to death, like he could ever be angry. He barely came to the office to work! She spent most of her life here.

"For your fiancé?" He asked softly. "Is it his birthday already?"

"Uh, in a week, yeah. I don't know what to get him." She vaguely gestured towards the screen. "He's the type of guy who always says he's got everything."

Shane didn't know a lot about Vera, not really, she only started working here four months ago. All he knew was that she graduated with honours, smoked cherry-flavoured vapes, had a fiancé named Mathew, who was a high school teacher, a dog, a Dalmatian, named Rex, two sisters, her favourite colour was red, she liked history, especially ancient European history, and usually spent her breaks at her desk.

So, clearly. Not a lot. At all.

Shane pointed to the screen.

"My boyfriend uses this." He said. "It has a good formulation, natural."

"Oh." Vera clicked on the product. "Does it smell nice?"

It smelled so nice, Shane almost flushed pink at the mere memory. Ilya's scent was always intoxicating. Mesmerising. An aphrodisiac. 

"Yeah." He said simply. "It transfers a lot, though, I don't know if you like that."

"Like, onto other things? Clothes, pillows?"

"Yes. All my covers are now forever drenched in this."

Vera's eyes sparkled as she turned to him.

"Wait, did he move in with you?"

Shane nodded with a stupidly proud smile.

"This Monday."

"That's so amazing! How's it going so far?" Vera, as if she now completely forgot she was at work, sat more comfortably in her chair, chatting with him as he leaned against her cubicle. "I remember I couldn't stand Matty when we moved in together, for like a solid month. We were raised very differently."

Shane chuckled.

"It's going well, I think. I'd be lost without him."

She scrunched up her nose, laughing.

"I'm sure he could say the same thing about you."

"I don't know about that, but thank you." He glanced at his watch. "I have to get to my desk now, but I really do recommend that perfume."

"Thanks!"

Desk was a softer, nicer word than office. He already was in his family's office. He now had to walk over to the closed-off, glass rooms to reach his own personal one, with his stupid name engraved on a metal plate on the door, Shane Hollander, VP.

The place was as neat as always, and he took a long, steady, calm breath as he closed the door. Quiet. Peace. His binders, organised alphabetically. His papers aligned and proper. His diploma on the wall. The beige couch he ordered so it would fill out the space, he didn't have many guests here, except that one time Ilya came by to drop his wallet off and stayed for half an hour, wandering around the place in silence, smirking when Shane repeatedly asked him if he needed something.

No, thank you, I'm just looking. Like he was at a store. He spent five minutes inspecting Shane's succulents on the shelf. He came there straight from the workshop, on his break, in some old jeans and a flannel smeared with oil, his hair messed up by the wind, stubble on his cheeks, and Shane had to remind himself his mother was working behind the wall not to drag Ilya under the desk and have him suck his dick while the charts came through on the monitor.

Ilya kissed his cheek before leaving and said goodbye to every single worker, and Shane's office door was then crowded for the rest of the day. Every time he left for the bathroom, someone just so happened to walk by to ask him who that man was. He was worried he'd have to make some public statement on the speaking podium to announce that yes, indeed, the bosses' son, the same Shane most of the employees here saw grow up, go to uni for the first and second time, indeed has a boyfriend now, and that boyfriend - yes, very accurate observation, Phillip from human resources - is very hot. And sometimes drops by to hand Shane the wallet that Shane had lost in his car when they were, uh, talking.

Maybe one day, when the office is closed for the night, and the cleaning staff leaves, Shane could sneak them both in, keep the lights turned off, and get fucked against his desk, watching the city skyline through the huge window, with his silver name plate rubbing against his belly, where Ilya's cock would heaven deep inside him.

Just a thought. Just an idea.

Shane sat down by his dark oak, custom-made desk, pulled out his brand new laptop, plugged it in, aligned his phone to the wooden holder, and adjusted his leather seat. He had a water dispenser all to himself, so he poured a full glass of water and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he started working. 

He started with the weekly overview, checking the newest charts, diagrams, and statistics concerning their next goals. Jira was finally a bit more organised, they had a few new managers who handled each department. He checked his mail, responded to a few customary ones, researched two firms that were interested in working with them, and kindly rejected their offers. Nothing for them to do at a local bar with a shady past.

He took a few sips of his water and started typing the email of the day.

Hello Mr Gillman,

I am writing regarding our missed meeting on Tuesday. As you were probably informed, I didn't get a chance to meet you when I arrived at your firm. I would firstly like to assure you that my delay was caused by circumstances I could not predict. I understand your frustration regarding this situation, as well as your wariness concerning my age. Again, I can guarantee you my expertise in the area. I'm attaching my research results, as well as documentation I could gather about your firm's financial status at the moment, and my predictions as to how the next few months could look if no action is taken. I would love to schedule another meeting, where we could discuss the matter more thoroughly, and…

"Shane?"

He looked up at the sound of his name, rapidly snapped out of his focus. 

"Hey." He cleared his throat. "I didn't catch you earlier."

Yuna walked into his office with papers in hand, closing the door.

She looked a bit tired, her step was weaker than usual. She was in a rush, too.

"I wanted to drop this off for you before I leave." She left the papers on the desk, sighing. She managed a weak smile. "How are you, baby?"

"Good." He answered on impulse, leaning back in his chair. "Is dad here today?"

"Uh, no, he's running errands in town." Yuna took out her phone, someone was messaging her. "Are we still on for tomorrow?"

Right. Dinner. With his parents, and his boyfriend, and the baby girl he wasn't sure he could call his.

"Yeah, of course. Seven?"

"Works. You'll tell us all about Gillman tomorrow, okay?" She leaned over the desk to pat his shoulder. "We're so very proud of you, Shane."

Shane swallowed hard, gesturing towards the laptop.

"Actually, about Gillman, I…"

"Sorry." Yuna lifted her hand, groaning. "Julien is on my ass all day. I'm sure you handled that perfectly, we'll celebrate at your place."

"Mom…"

"Love you, bye!"

She left, already calling Julien.

Shane gritted his teeth, looking back at the email.

His dad wasn't here today, so he couldn't even talk to him about what to do now. It was David's project, after all. He had until tomorrow to figure out how to better this. Or at the very least, make it less awful.

He finished the email and sent it. He called Gillman again, with no result. Left him a message, apologising for his delay again, two days later. He'll get a meeting scheduled, he'll say the other one was simply cancelled because Gillman had other plans. Easy. 

He has time.

He looked through the papers Yuna left for him, glanced at the clock and realised, for the first time ever while he was working here, he should consider coming home at a reasonable hour. They still had a kitchen to reorganise, and he had Ilya's game to pick up, and Raisa's lightbulbs. He texted Ilya, yawning.

Shane
➥ Can we order food tonight?

Ilya
➥ ah you hate my cooking already?

Shane
➥ You know that's not true. I'm just tired, we'll cook tomorrow anyway. I mean, I will.

Ilya
➥ ok we can order
➥ I'm waiting for Rai now
➥ i met the daycare woman who was mean to you

Shane
➥ Leave it.

Ilya
➥ do you really think we should move Rai to a different place?

Shane stared at the text for a moment, unsure if he was hallucinating.

Shane
➥ It's your decision.

Ilya
➥ yours too
➥ they were really bad to you
➥ and they dont do much when raisa is bullied by those idiot kids

Shane
➥ Hey, they're toddlers, they probably don't know what they're doing.

Ilya
➥ they're still stupid. raisa didn't do anything to them.
➥ do you want to move her? you said you found a better daycare closer

Shane bit his lower lip. Was this a test? He thought that whole topic was over.

Shane
➥ No, you were right, she should finish the year there. Too many changes at once. She'll go to school soon anyway.

Ilya
➥ okay
➥ do you want me to tell this stupid woman something?

Shane
➥ Ilya, leave it. She meant well.

Ilya
➥ i dont think so
➥ she apologised to me
➥ i didnt like it

Shane
➥ Why?

Ilya
➥ she should apologise to you
➥ she promised she will next time she sees you

Shane
➥ You don't have to defend my honour, you know.

Ilya
➥ of course i do
➥ that's what im for

Shane rolled his eyes with a smile and put his phone away.

He wrapped up his work, gathered his things, and left off for the store. Ilya's game waited there for him to pick it up, as well as the lightbulbs. He ordered food online and waited a moment outside the restaurant until it was ready to be taken home.

He was attacked the second he walked into his apartment. 

Ilya appeared out of thin air, kissing him senseless. Shane laughed and kicked the door closed, kissing him back with his hands full of the paper bags, and it might've been a whole minute before he could speak.

"Hey." He murmured, catching a breath. "You missed me that much?"

"You bought us flowers." Ilya kissed the corner of his mouth again. "I love you."

If there was something Shane could absolutely never get enough of, it was how Ilya reacted to being treated right.

It was heartwarming, and heartbreaking at the same time, the most bizarre of things. Whether it was the flat, the Switch, the ice skating lessons, or mundane gestures, flowers, a donut, a coffee when Ilya most needed it, he reacted with the same passion, gratitude, and joy. Most of Shane's boyfriends were either so used to being spoiled, they stopped thanking him for anything, or used him endlessly, until his soul and wallet was run dry, and his eyes had to pour waterfalls of water to soothe the pain afterwards.

But Ilya was never used to this. Ilya never got flowers, or sweets, or gifts just because he mentioned something once. And despite it all, he was so full of love, Shane could feel it radiating off his skin every time they touched. 

"I love you, too. You like the flowers?" Shane asked, smiling at the firm nodding. "Did you find anything else in them?"

"Yes." Ilya took the bags from him. "You are crazy, you know?"

"I told you you can use my cars. I don't feel good thinking about you driving your old thing, I know you love it, but…"

"I will drive the Chevy." Ilya kissed his cheek with a smile. "I'm not letting you resign the paperwork in my name, though."

"It's really no problem."

"I'm not letting you."

Shane huffed, bumping their shoulders together while they walked to the kitchen.

Raisa was coloring by the island, she had one of her flowers behind her ear. She waved at Shane, swinging her legs on the tall barstool.

"Hi, Shane!"

"Hi." Shane set the other bags on the counter. "Do you like your flowers?"

"Yes. Very pretty. Look." She showed him the rose she had on her head. "Papa said he will make me crown later."

"You will be a true princess then." He unpacked the lightbulbs, gasping quietly when Ilya's arms surrounded him. "You'll be stuck to me now, because of the Chevy?"

"Mhm." Ilya purred into his ear, whispering so quietly, Shane barely heard him. Speaking directly into his skin, so Raisa wouldn't hear him. "I'm gonna fuck you so well for it."

Shane shuddered at the lips moving against his earlobe.

"Yeah? What about this?" He dived his hand into the bag to reach for the game. "Look, it's got your name on it."

Ilya squeezed him tighter, groaning quietly.

"You have rotten me completely."

"You know I like to take care of what's mine."

"I do." Ilya kissed his neck. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

Each thanks was accented with another kiss, until Shane giggled, playfully pushing him away.

"Unpack food. Raisa is probably hungry."

"I'm hungry, too!" Ilya grabbed his chest, insulted. "You don't think about me?"

"I bought you like, three burgers."

"Ah. You are forgiven."

They ate, talking, and watched a movie together. Raisa fell asleep on Shane's chest, with his hand on her back, and he carried her to her bedroom, wrapped in a blanket. He changed the lightbulbs as Ilya tucked her in, whispering in Russian so she wouldn't wake up. 

"Alright." Shane sighed when they left the room and closed the door. "Shower?"

Shower, sex, some peace for once, maybe. It was so strange to miss Ilya this much, especially now, when they lived together, a few hours apart, and he felt like collapsing. A slow evening, with even slower sex, sounded like heaven.

Ilya pointed to the kitchen.

"We were supposed to reorganise."

Shit.

It was nine already. Shane looked at the dining table and rubbed his eyes. 

They can't postpone this, not anymore, his parents were coming over tomorrow. He needed the place clean. They needed the damn table clean, and not overflowing with plates and pots.

"Right. I forgot."

"It won't be long. Come." Ilya pulled him by his wrist. "You show me where you want everything, so I don't mess up again."

"You didn't mess up."

"You were upset. Over the strainer." Ilya smiled at him, guiding Shane to the table. "Tell me where you want it."

This didn't help Shane's horniness at all. He hoped sorting cutlery could ease his growing heat, and yet again, he was proved wrong. Ilya listened to him without a word of objection, carefully putting his things exactly where Shane wanted them, and they moved between the living room and the kitchen, carrying mismatched glasses, walking quietly so as not to wake up the baby girl sleeping behind the wall.

"Okay, and straws?" Ilya came back with the items, raising his eyebrows. "Where?"

"Here. I have a drawer for them."

"Of course you do."

Shane leaned against the counter, watching Ilya put his straws by the rest of them, making sure they were aligned with each other. Shane simultaneously felt like jumping onto him, crying, or God knows what else.

"I like my cups grouped by size." He said quietly, glancing into the cup cabinet. "Biggest to smallest, by shelf."

Ilya nodded, making space for his cups.

"Okay."

"And could you move the purple one to the back a bit? It's flashy."

"Sure."

Shane waited for the moment Ilya's patience would run out. Minute after minute, he spoke with a slight edge in his voice, as if the plastics needing to be separated from the steel tools would be the final straw. Ilya just moved them to the right place when Shane handed them to him.

"I know you have matching plates." Ilya said at last, holding a truly ugly, banana-coloured plate in his hands, which was all bent around the edges. "So I hide this. Where?"

Shane tilted his head, looking at the object.

"Are you sure you want this at all? It seems…impractical."

"It's Raisa's first real plate. I can't throw this out." Ilya rotated the thing in his hands. "I stole it from our first apartment."

Oh.

Shane looked around the kitchen for a moment. He had one cabinet that was fully hidden from the view, for the uglier stuff, but this hideous, half-broken plate suddenly seemed like the most beautiful piece of art in the world.

"I put it behind something." Ilya reached for the covered cabinet. "We don't use it a lot anymore."

"No, wait." Shane took the plate for him, walking over to the wall. He put it against it, at eye-level. "We could hang it here. Below the clock. What do you think?"

Ilya blinked, looking at the wall as Shane held the plate up.

"You want it visible?"

"We can label it. Like in a museum." Shane hummed. Maybe this was a stupid idea after all. Ilya stared at him, motionless. "I think it's cute."

"It's ugly."

"It's important, and this wall is too empty anyway." He held the plate to his chest, turning back to Ilya. "Don't hide it away."

Ilya took the plate from him to set it on the counter.

"Okay." He smiled, leaning down to kiss Shane's nose. "We hang it."

Shane brushed their faces together, tired and sleepy.

"Am I being insufferable?"

Ilya frowned, cupping his face in his hands.

"About what?"

"The kitchen. You don't have to do this, you know."

"Uh, I do." Ilya pointed to the still occupied dining table. "We have guests tomorrow."

"I mean, you don't have to be so…understanding of my stuff. My things."

"Your things?"

Shane gestured vaguely towards himself. 

"I know it's not the most exciting way to spend an evening, sorting out kitchen utensils. I don't know why I care so much about this."

Ilya huffed, pressing another kiss to Shane's forehead.

"Is very fun. I'm spending time with you." He tapped the yellow plate on the counter. "And you want to hang my ugly plate on the wall, and label it. You are very perfect."

Shane laughed softly, blinking away the sudden stinging in his eyes.

"Very perfect?"

"Most perfect, yes. Tell me where you want bowls."

Shane did. He watched Ilya rearrange them and brought over the rest of the things from the table, until his kitchen was also in most perfect condition again.

They showered together, kissing lazily. He prepared his clothes for tomorrow while Ilya lay in bed, playing his new game with a facemask on, in his satin robe, naked underneath, buried under the heavy covers. Everything smelled like his perfume. Looking back, Shane thought he shouldn't recommend it to Vera. Now her fiancé will smell like Ilya, and nobody had any right to indulge in that sensation besides Shane. 

Maybe Matty's natural scent will ruin the perfume. Ilya was a mix of so many things, after all. His hair had the tiniest scent of honey and mint in it, from the conditioner he used. His face cream, his aftershave, deodorant, everything formed the best thing Shane had ever inhaled.

He crawled into bed, kissing Ilya's forearm as he played. 

"Are you enjoying it?" Shane asked, resting his head on the man's shoulder. "I thought it would be relaxing."

"Is very relaxing. Look. I have a farm." Ilya showcased some poor-looking, old pixel buildings to him, and a field that looked like a storm had ravaged it. "I am rich."

"Mhm. That's cool."

"It asked me to name my favorite thing when I made my character."

"And what did you put in, cigarettes?" Shane sniffed around Ilya's face. "You have to quit."

Ilya pushed him back gently, showing him his tongue.

"I put you. Favorite thing, Shane."

Shane shook his head with laughter, digging himself deeper in the sheets. 

"You're such a sap sometimes."

"Is you who buys me big flowers with car keys in them."

"The car keys just grew from one of the roses, you see."

"Fuck, what do they put into the soil, then? Microplastic?"

Shane hummed in agreement and bit on Ilya's bicep, and kissed the spot afterwards. Ilya extended his arm for him.

"You will put holes in the robe."

"I'll buy you a new one." 

Ilya was so soft, warm, clean, slick all over from the satin. He still had his facemask on, so Shane would have to wait, but he started planning as he watched Ilya rebuild his farm. It's been ages. Yesterday's failed attempt turned out to be unsatisfying, and this morning was rushed, quick, and simple. He wanted Ilya back inside him, where he belonged. Ilya promised to fuck him well, as if he ever did a poor job at it. Maybe on their sides tonight? Shane liked how Ilya's veins usually popped out in that position, how he started panting, looking at him, mouth hung open, arm draped around Shane's waist. Fucking into him with slow thrusts, going cross-eyed at the pressure, whimpering into Shane's neck, rocking them while they lay entwined.

Ilya glanced at the clock and turned the game off.

"I'll throw out the mask." He lifted Shane's hand to kiss his fingers. "I will be right back."

Shane nodded, stretching in bed.

"Kay."

The shirt Rose bought him still lay at the bottom of his bag. He didn't take it out. That would mean another evening spent on a long discussion with Ilya, not that he minded it, he preferred those over silence or snappy fights any day, but he needed to relax, he needed to forget for a moment, and sleep well, rest before tomorrow. 

He could hear Ilya brush his teeth and banged the tips of his fingers against his chest. His phone buzzed.

Any minute now. Any minute, and he'll be back in Ilya's arms, fucked as he wanted to be, with his hand in Ilya's hair, moaning breathlessly and falling apart. 

He glanced at his phone, then away to the window. Back to the phone. It was late. It was probably just the boys' group chat, or Rose, or something.

He managed ten seconds before he reached for the device, sighing at his own impatience. He got an email.

From Gillman.

His heart sunk in his chest. Ilya's shenanigans in the bathroom faded out, overflowed by the white noise in Shane's ears.

Dear Mr Hollander,

Your charts and predictions do not scare me, nor convince me of your supposed expertise. I already said what I wanted to on Tuesday. If your father can't find a grown-up to handle my business, there's nothing to speak about. I now see your firm still does not treat me seriously.

There will be no second meeting. I'm withdrawing from this collaboration. It's a waste of time and effort. I didn't agree to being ridiculed when I signed our contract. I was promised professional advice and leadership, not a child in a suit two sizes too big for him, running into my office and begging for an audience. My company is not a circus, Mr Hollander. It certainly is not your playground, in which you could gather some experience, which you obviously do not have.

I'm disappointed, as your family name's reputation is clearly deceptive and false. I will contact my lawyers on Monday to settle the breach of our agreement. 

Don't try to reach me again. I will not answer any more ramblings. Simply tell your parents to at least handle the wrap-up correctly. 

-Gillman.

Shane stared at the email, breathing shallowly.

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

It's all fucked. For real, this time, he didn't manage to set this right, and his father's investment will go straight into mud. 

He couldn't even explain what went wrong to Yuna today.

They'll ask tomorrow.

FUCK.

Ilya came back, running his hands through his hair. He changed into boxers, slipping under the covers and closer to Shane's unmoving figure, kissing his shoulder.

"Put the phone away." He murmured. "You work too much."

Not enough. Clearly, not enough.

Shane blocked the screen with shaky hands. Ilya was now kissing his jaw.

"You are okay?" He whispered when Shane stayed stiff, quietly panicking inside, his thoughts anywhere but on the man by his side. "Baby?"

"Uh, yeah." Shane sniffed, turning his head to give Ilya a short kiss. "I'm fine."

He managed a weak smile. Ilya stroked his chest with his hand, kissing him more firmly.

Gillman, investment, money, money, money, dad, dinner, rain, laptop, meeting, meeting, everything wrong, simple job, simplest, trust, confidence, his father's confidence in him, all shattered, too young and stupid to handle the easiest fucking task…

Ilya's hand moved to Shane's hip, and Shane couldn't breathe fully, nor relax. He swallowed loudly, moving away.

"I'm very tired." He whispered, hating himself for it all. For fucking up again, for checking the phone, for lying, for depriving both himself and Ilya of this, of something they needed so much. "I'm sorry."

Ilya looked up at him, nodding.

"Is okay." He kissed Shane's cheek gently. "Don't be sorry."

"It was just the longest day. I didn't expect to be so sleepy, and…"

"Shane. Is okay." Ilya chuckled, pulling him closer so Shane could settle against his chest. "You look stressed. Don't be stressed."

"It's not that I don't want to…" The rest of the sentence died in his throat as Ilya hummed, stroking his back. "Don't be mad."

"I'm not mad." Ilya said with a confused note in his voice. "Shane. Are you alright? You are acting weird."

Shane clung to Ilya's body.

"I'm good. Just sleepy."

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Sorry."

"Stop saying sorry."

He felt like crying. He squeezed his eyes shut so much they hurt, and tried to breathe normally while Ilya hugged him.

Ilya's perfume lulled him into an uneasy, tense sleep, filled with guilt and panic, and so many things he couldn't name.

Failure after failure, until there would be nothing left.

Chapter End Notes

shane: i'm so good at keeping things inside, i won't worry anyone with this :)
ilya: google why is my boyfriend acting like the world is ending, is it my fault, i don't understand, i organised kitchen how he likes :(

Chapter 5: Fridays are for breakdowns.

Chapter Summary

Shane reaches a point of no return when his parents come for dinner.

Chapter Notes

Shane woke up alone.

The house was quiet. Uneasiness stirred him awake before the alarm clock could even ring. Ilya wasn't in bed. It was the first thought that appeared in Shane's head. Ilya was gone.

He sat up, shifting on the mattress, pulling his knees up to his chest. It was still early. He didn't hear Ilya in the kitchen.

This was all his fault. Again.

Ilya was too good for him. In some way, he's always known this. Ilya, with his undying loyalty, determination, and patience, with the sweetest girl on Earth calling him Papa, with his skilled hands, spirit unafraid of any labour, the strongest will and bravery in protecting who he loved, was not what Shane deserved. Not when he was like this. Tense, and distant, and all over the place, guilt swallowing him whole, work corrupting his life. It was enough he had to call Ilya for help on Tuesday, now business has lured its way into their home, their bedroom, their nights, souring his desires and focus, dragging him away from what should be theirs only.

What if Ilya wants to leave?

What if he thinks the move-in was a mistake after all, and takes Raisa away, and Shane had no right to object to that, not when she wasn't his, not when they were this patchwork of a family he clung to, but couldn't show off properly. His parents barely knew Ilya. Ilya, his boyfriend. They didn't know Raisa at all. Raisa, his boyfriend's daughter. How was Shane supposed to be a husband and a father one day, if he was failing at stage one?

Husband. As if he could even think about that right now, as if he could have confidence that both of the most important people to him would want him with them forever when he was so shit at life this whole week. 

He wanted them here so he could help. Not to be a burden to them. Not this pathetic, trembling mess that couldn't breathe properly, on the morning of his parents' visit, because Ilya wasn't here.

He glanced at the nightstand. Ilya's phone was left there, for reasons he couldn't fathom.

No.

Leave it. Don't be like this, you're not like this anymore. He's not Patrick. He's not the dozens that came after him. He's busy somewhere, maybe he took Raisa to a store, or…

It was just so early. If Ilya was here, maybe Shane could blow him. Instead, he was alone with Ilya's phone.

He took it in hand, the screen unlocked the second he looked at it, just as Ilya set it up on Tuesday. He stared at the home screen for a second, unsure what to do. What to look for. What to find, so he could get some answer to questions he couldn't even form.

Ilya had him and Raisa as his wallpaper. They were on the couch in Ilya's old flat, Raisa was putting ribbons in Shane's hair, laughing, and Shane smiled as well, draped along the couch, letting her sit on his belly. She grew so fast. Now, she was too big to fit there.

He clicked on the messages. 

Shanya 🥰 

Linda daycare

Sveta

Fuckass Boss

Raisa's doctor, Ilya's coworkers. Nothing much. He didn't expect anything new. 

He looked at the gallery.

Endless pictures of Raisa and Shane, in various levels of blurriness, most of them taken when Shane wasn't looking. 

Shane playing with Raisa on the floor. Shane focused with his laptop on his lap. Shane sleeping, his hand grabbing Ilya's shirt. Shane laughing with flour on his cheek. Pictures of books Shane could like, in a separate folder, shanya gifts.

He clicked out of the folder before his throat would be so tight, he couldn't breathe.

He clicked onto Google by accident and frowned upon seeing the latest searches.

run routes montreal

can't sleep what to do 

partner stressed how to help

survey montreal business is bad?

cartoons for children age five not stupid

breakfast ideas to reduce stress

how to know if partner is lying

budget gift ideas 

best sex positions to relax partner

white man with asian boyfriend reddit

racism towards asians how to notice

daycares montreal opinions

how to make boyfriends parents like you 

what to wear for dinner with boyfriends parents

am i good partner quiz

vacation ideas

can i punch my boyfriends ex or will i go to prison

stardew valley wiki

stardew valley is shane cool

stardew valley how to water fucking plants

stardew valley when pet comes?

stardew valley how to get cow can i name cow?

Shane put the phone away, rubbing his eye with a deep sigh.

He wasn't sure what he expected. The last time he checked someone's history, he found absurd amounts of disgusting porn, Am I The Asshole reddit, and endless questions about how to endure your boring boyfriend. Multiple DMs from people he "shouldn't worry about", too.

The front door creaked as it was opened.

He looked up, swallowing. Ilya peeked through the door, quickly, checking if he was sleeping and standing in the doorway when he was met with Shane's eyes. He was panting a bit. Sweaty.

"Hi." He smiled. "You're up already?"

Shane nodded, not really trusting his voice right now. Ilya stepped inside, running his hands through his hair. His running shorts stuck to his thighs.

"Why? You can sleep a bit more." He sat at the edge of the mattress. He sounded tired. "What's wrong?"

Everything. 

He was stressing Ilya out. Worrying him. He couldn't even give him sex. He couldn't give him the stability he and Raisa needed. He couldn't endure a single bad week without Ilya's mind twisting and making up idiotic scenarios in which any of this could be Ilya's fault.

Now, Ilya was looking at him, with a heavy breath, his hand on Shane's ankle. And Shane couldn't speak.

"Hey." He hummed, lifting Shane's chin with his free hand. "Baby."

Fucking say something.

Shane just nodded, looking away.

"I went for a run. I couldn't sleep." Ilya filled the silence, infinitely calm. "Did you have a nightmare? Do you want to cuddle?" 

Shane sniffed, pointing to him.

"You're sweaty." Was the first thing he could mutter out. Ilya chuckled.

"I will shower. Tell me what's wrong."

He'll leave.

He'll leave the second he learns just how paranoid Shane's head could get on a week like this. How scared he was, really, despite it all, despite how he could handle most of what life had for him, he couldn't bear being a liability to his family.

"Just a bad week." Shane mumbled, and hoped to God he sounded convincing.

It was a bad week. An awful week. And he couldn't handle it, and spiraled, and soon, Ilya would tell him to fuck off and stop being so damn difficult. 

Ilya kissed the top of his head.

"I know, baby."

"I'm sorry about last night."

Ilya stayed still for a second.

"Sorry about what?" He asked slowly, confused. "Did you do something?"

Shane glanced up at him.

"We haven't fucked in forever. I was too tense to have sex, and I'm…"

"Hey, no. Don't say you're sorry. Nothing to be sorry for." Ilya stroked the back of his neck now, firmly massaging the stiff muscles there. "We'll have more time during weekend. Or whenever, I'm not leaving now, remember, I live here? You can have me every day. Is this why you're so worried? About sex?"

Shane huffed, pushing his face into Ilya's sweaty neck, and somehow, the warmth made it worth it.

"It's a big deal."

"Not bigger than you, to me." Ilya scrunched his nose. "Does that make sense? English is hard in the mornings."

"Yeah. Yeah, it makes sense."

"Good."

So many things needed to be taken care of. He wished they could just disappear, for a day or two, and as much as he loved Raisa, he needed some time alone with Ilya. He couldn't say it, it was too soon, too soon for it all. They just moved in. This week felt like a month, but it wasn't, it was just a normal week. He had no right to be this tired.

Ilya rubbed his back softly.

"We can talk about everything, yes? Everything you need. I'm here." He kissed Shane's temple. "We can reschedule the dinner."

Shane frowned.

"No. No, I need to talk to my dad, I need…they need to meet Raisa. No rescheduling."

"You need a break, kotik."

"I'll take one tomorrow. I promise." 

He hated how worried Ilya looked. He hated how his paranoid brain made him check Ilya's phone, and hated how he knew exactly what was going on in Ilya's head. He knew just how worried he was.

Over this. Over nothing, really, over Shane being difficult, when he should be the happiest.

"Is just a bad week." Ilya kissed Shane's cheek, as if every little statement needed a kiss somewhere on Shane's head, to make it land. It worked. "I'll go shower now, yes? And will come back to cuddle. Stay."

Shane could only nod, missing Ilya's warmth the second he got up to go to the bathroom.

He lay back in bed, inhaling their mixed scents, wrapping himself in the covers. Ilya showered quickly. He needed runs at dawn now, to calm his nerves, to do something with the energy rushing through his veins, he needed to sneak out and wander around the neighbourhood, because of Shane.

Shane lifted the covers when Ilya came back, trying not to cry as the man embraced him gently.

"You need more sleep." Ilya hummed, getting his hands under Shane's shirt to stroke his sides.

"You hardly slept at all."

"I'm okay. I am. I'll drink more coffee at work and be okay." Ilya spoke so softly, Shane could barely hear him. "Relax."

Shane frowned.

"I can't."

"Is it work? Uni?"

Everything.

"Work." Shane lifted his hand to play with Ilya's cross. "I shouldn't bring it home, I know. Shouldn't think about it in our bed."

Ilya shook his head.

"I bring my work home too, sometimes, remember?" He sighed when Shane didn't answer. "Do you need me to sing you a lullaby, like I do for Rai?"

Shane managed to chuckle, looking up at Ilya with teary eyes.

"Don't be absurd."

"I'm not absurd. I sing good lullabies." Ilya brought him closer, manhandling Shane into a ball of limbs and stress he could fully press against his chest. Shane closed his eyes, tucked under Ilya's chin. "English or Russian?"

Stupid. This was stupid, and childish, and wonderful.

"Russian, please." Shane whispered. He expected Ilya to laugh and decline at last, like Shane didn't get the joke. The only thing he heard was a quiet, gentle melody in a language he couldn't understand, and couldn't analyze. Just words, sang with his favorite voice, words that surely formed something peaceful and lovely.

Lozhkoj sneg meshaya,
Noch' idyot bol'shaya,
Chto zhe ty, glupyshka, ne spish'?
Spyat tvoi sosedi
Belye medvedi,
Spi i ty skorej, malysh.
Spyat tvoi sosedi
Belye medvedi,
Spi skorej i ty, malysh. 

Shane fell asleep with his lips parted, surrounded by nothing but comfortable warmth, gentle arms, and deep, sweet singing.

He slept better now than at night. When he woke up, he was confused and still sleepy, with his head on Ilya's belly as Ilya sat against the headboard, scrolling on his phone with one hand in Shane's hair, scratching his scalp. It took Shane a moment to realise he had fallen asleep, and remember the early morning, as he stirred awake, rubbing his eyes. Ilya cooed at him.

"Ah, is my medvezhonok awake?"

Shane murmured a string of incoherent vowels, pressing his face into Ilya's stomach. It was nice. Hot, with the joined warmth of their bodies, fuzzy, his. Ilya rubbed the back of his neck.

"Are you feeling better?"

"No questions, please." Shane turned in bed to fit his head on Ilya's chest now. "Cuddle me."

Ilya laughed and said something about how that's all he's been doing for two hours now. Shane did not care.

He melted against Ilya, humming with content at every little kiss he received, and inhaled deeply, with his nose under Ilya's jaw.

"I love you." He managed to whisper, although it sounded more like ay-oh-u. Ilya scratched the low of his back, and Shane thought love was not strong enough of a word to describe how he felt about this perfect man of his.

"What was that?" Ilya asked with a clear smile in his voice. "You act like you just hibernated for whole winter."

"Feel like it."

"What?"

"I feel like it." Shane couldn't stop the purr that left his lips when Ilya's hand now brushed his hair. "Mm."

"Happy now? Medvezhonok."

Shane rubbed his eye with his knuckle.

"What does that mean?"

"Little bear."

"Fuck off."

"Ah. I assume, happy."

"Yes." Shane glanced at Ilya's phone to check the hour. "We need to get up."

Despite his words, he settled against his boyfriend again. Ilya stroked his arm so nicely now.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, while the sun flooded the room through the window. Ilya turned off the alarm on his phone. Shane wished for an eternity spent like this, entangled, quiet, safe. The back of his mind was already feeling tense, sharp, speeding at the thoughts of what needed to be done today.

"Are you feeling better?"

Shane nodded.

"A bit."

"Are you sure you don't want to reschedule dinner?"

"I'm sure."

"Okay." Ilya stretched in bed. "Whatever you want, sweetheart."

He said it with so much ease, Shane had to close his eyes to calm his beating heart. No one has ever given him so much freedom. So much unwavering support, in every way. So much trust. No one's treated him like a person in such a long time. He's never had a boyfriend who sang him lullabies and trusted him with his decisions. He's never had love like this.

I'm terrified of losing you some days.

The thought was clear, yet he couldn't say it. He just stayed halfway on top of Ilya's chest, breathing, drawing patterns on his skin with his fingertips. 

There was a tiny knock on the door, somewhere below the handle. Ilya shifted in bed to look up.

"Yeah?"

Raisa had to jump to grab the handle and open it. She dragged her feet on the carpet, barely awake.

"Are you sleeping?" She asked with a yawn. "I woke up from sun. We need to go to daycare."

Ilya laughed gently, motioning for her to come to the bed.

"We still have a bit of time for cuddles."

"We do?"

"Yes. Come here, sweetheart." He reached out his hand over Shane's body to help her climb onto the bed. She stumbled over Shane's legs and managed to lie down on Ilya's chest, against Shane, too. "You're getting heavy."

Shane smiled at the girl, wrapping his arm around both her and Ilya.

"Hello."

"Hi." She whispered as if someone in the house was still sleeping. She held her teddy bear in her hand. "Your hair is funny."

"Mhm. Blame your Papa."

Ilya ruffled Shane's hair even more. Raisa laughed. 

She played with her teddy, telling them about her dream. She was a pirate captain in it, searching for treasure and coloring books. Shane listened, nodding with a sleepy smile, letting her press the teddy bear against his face as she explained the complicated story of her pirate crew.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Shane asked, rubbing his thumb over Ilya's ribs.

"I was thinking some bacon." Ilya answered. "And eggs."

"I was asking Raisa."

"Oh, again you forget me? I am starving."

Raisa laughed, looking up at her father.

"I want bacon, too."

"Mhm, no." Ilya bopped her nose with his finger. "Bacon is not healthy for kids. I'll make you oatmeal."

"No! Bacon, pozhaluysta!"

"How about avocado toast? Shane has that every morning."

Raisa thought for a moment with her eyebrows furrowed.

"Okay. I want Shane's breakfast."

"Of course you do."

Shane giggled, hugging them both tightly.

She had avocado toast, and Ilya had bacon. Shane gave them both a kiss to the cheek as he said goodbye to them in the doorframe, and turned around with a deep sigh, looking at the apartment.

His parents would come around seven. He needed to do some light shopping, deep cleaning, prepare the place for dinner. He should get his exam results today as well, but he couldn't think about it now. The dinner had to be perfect.

He hung the yellow plate on the wall, labeled it with delicate letters, Raisa's first plate. It looked nice under the clock. 

He did the dishes, cleaned the kitchen, scrubbed the floors clean, tidied up Raisa's toys, made both of the beds, ironed his shirt for dinner, went out to the corner store for a few things. He did it all. He ate a small lunch and started preparing the vegetables, the rice, the chicken. It needed to be marinated first, the recipe said. 

By five, he was absolutely exhausted, and already running out of time. He took a quick shower and began to cut the veggies with shaky hands. The door opened.

"Shane!"

"I'm in the kitchen!" He stepped away to look into the corridor. Raisa wanted to run to him. "No, wait, take your shoes off, please! I wiped the floors!"

She stopped in place, swinging her arms so she wouldn't fall, and took a few careful steps back. She sat at the bench waiting for her papa to untie her boots. Princess. 

"Shane, I got a golden star!" She showed him her sweater, indeed, decorated with a yellow sticker of a star. "At daycare."

"Oh, that's great, what for?"

"I helped a squirrel!"

Shane raised his eyebrows.

"A squirrel."

"She found a sick squirrel behind the building." Ilya sighed, toed his shoes off, and rubbed his face. "She dragged Linda to it, and they took it to a vet."

"That's so nice of you, Rai." Shane hoped his voice concealed his endearment, but he also needed to watch his hands and check if he was cutting the carrots into even pieces. "You're an animal hero."

"Yes!"

"Go wash your hands, and you'll tell Shane everything, okay?" Ilya ruffled her hair and pointed to the bathroom. "And your face, too, you're a bit dirty."

She ran to the bathroom as ordered. Ilya barely put one foot in front of the other as he reached Shane. 

"That extra coffee didn't help much?" Shane asked, looking at him. Ilya shook his head. "I'm sorry about that."

Ilya flicked his wrist.

"Kiss me, please."

Shane put the knife away to lean to him and plant a long kiss against Ilya's dry lips.

"Long day?"

"Is better now." Ilya mouthed against his jaw. "How much time do we have until your parents come?"

"Uh, an hour and a half."

"I'll go shower, then. Can you watch Raisa for a moment?"

"Sure."

Raisa was more than happy to tell him all about the squirrel as he read the recipe a thousand times and put the chicken into the oven. He had to clean everything again. The clock was ticking. Raisa was still not ready for dinner, and Ilya was taking a long shower, which he probably needed, and Shane was definitely not panicking.

"Come, we'll get you dressed up for the dinner, okay?"

Raisa tilted her head at him.

"Why?"

"My parents are visiting. Don't you remember?"

"Hm." She swung her legs, sitting at the barstool. "I never dress up for dinner."

"Yes, when it's just us three, you don't have to. But it's a special dinner." He helped her get off the stool and onto the ground again. She looked at him with curious eyes. "My parents are very excited to meet you."

"Are they nice?"

"Yes." He chuckled at the honest question. "They are nice, they raised me. Am I nice?"

"You are." She held his hand as they walked to her room. "Can I pick what I wear?"

"Of course. Just something that doesn't have daycare mud on it, that's gonna be perfect."

She opened each of the drawers in her wardrobe with a concentrated frown. He had to help her reach a few things, all of them were quickly thrown behind her as she wasn't satisfied with the look. She found a pretty blue blouse with a big bow on the front.

"Can I wear this?"

"Of course." Shane placed every rejected item of clothing back to its rightful place. "And which trousers? Maybe those nice black ones? Are they comfortable?"

"Da."

"Okay, and the socks?" He looked into her sock drawer. He fished out an enormous pair. "Wait, those ones are your dad's. What are they doing here?"

Raisa found it absurdly funny, for some reason, as if laundry mismatch was the most hilarious thing on planet earth. She ordered Shane to take those socks back, as they took too much space in her precious drawer. She picked green ones to wear.

Ilya's head peeked into Raisa's room, his hair all wet and a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Are you guys doing okay?"

"Yes. We're getting Rai-Rai dressed for dinner." Shane lifted the blue blouse. "You don't have to rush, you know. You can do your whole hair routine."

"I don't have a whole routine! It's just conditioner!"
"He does have a whole routine. Right?" Shane asked Raisa, smiling as she nodded. "Oh, and we found your socks here. Catch."

Ilya caught the pair with a soft smile and a head shake.

"I'll go get dressed, then."

Shane helped Raisa change into the pretty clothes, and sat her by her new desk to brush her blonde hair. She looked into the small mirror she had there, sitting all nice and proper, with her back straight.

"Can you do braid like Papa?" She asked. Shane was currently trying to smooth out her curls with one hand, while holding his phone with the other. 

"I'll try." He hummed. "He makes you a Dutch one usually, right? How am I…where does this come from…"

"He makes me pretty braid."

"Yeah, I know, Rai." Shane smiled, playing the tutorial from the beginning. The strands appeared out of thin air. He had no idea how to section her hair like in the video. "Do you want one or two?"

One, one, please say one.

"Two!"

He sighed and nodded, and pulled up a longer tutorial.

"Okay. Hold this for me, please." He handed her the phone and watched with furrowed eyebrows. "Tell me if I pull your hair too much, alright?"

She hummed in agreement. He managed to split her hair evenly and focused on repeating the steps from the video on her head.

He was halfway through the second braid when Ilya came back.

He styled his hair too, pushed it to the back a bit, which made him look a bit older, more serious, deadly handsome, as usual. He wore a dark shirt and struggled with the buttons on the sleeve. His trousers hugged his legs nicely. He put on his best watch, the one he got from Shane for his birthday.

"Woah, you know how to braid her hair now?" Ilya asked, clicking his tongue. "Good job."

"Don't distract me." Shane said, slowly finishing up the second braid. "Hand me a tie."

Ilya's fingers brushed against his as he fulfilled the order. Shane secured the braid and clapped.

"All done. Do you like it, Rai? Pretty enough?"

She looked at her hairstyle in the mirror, smiling and nodding.

"Yes, very pretty."

"Can you help me now?" Ilya smiled, offering Shane his arm. "I can't button this."

Shane grabbed his wrist gently and pulled him closer to fix the gaps between the fabric. His thumb stroked the sleeve.

"Is this a new shirt?"

"Yes."

"You bought a new shirt for this dinner, or what?" He joked, and felt his heart stop for a second when Ilya nodded, serious. "Jesus Christ."

Ilya shrugged.

"Is important, no?" He offered his other arm. "This, too, please."

Shane bit his lower lip, helping him with the buttons.

"You need anything else?" He asked, looking Ilya up and down. Anything at all, Ilya? He could ask for the moon now, and Shane would give it to him. More realistically, if Raisa wasn't right by their side, Ilya could just point to the floor without a word, and Shane would sink to his knees in front of him and open his mouth widely, waiting for Ilya to unzip those black trousers and slip his throbbing cock into Shane's mouth.

Ilya just leaned to kiss him briefly.

"I need you to get ready in peace now. So, go."

He tapped Shane's ass with his wide hand, urging him to move, and Shane just giggled, walking to the bedroom.

He got changed into his white shirt, straightened his trousers, and styled his hair. He could hear Ilya and Raisa lay the plates on the dining table. Ilya explained to her where every utensil should go, and where she'll sit, and she took it all very seriously. She aligned the glasses for ten whole minutes. Ilya put on the nice lights and some calm music.

Shane shaved and washed his face, put his watch on, and looked in the bathroom mirror. He looked nice. He'll have to explain to his father how much he fucked his project up, but he looked nice. His flat was amazing and clean. His food will probably be nice, too. His boyfriend looked like a model, and his…and Raisa looked really, really cute in her blouse.

He walked back to the living room and found Raisa sitting on the counter, looking at Ilya with brows drawn together and her hands in her lap. Ilya was speaking Russian to her, looking into her eyes and waiting for those tiny nods of confirmation when he wanted to make sure she understood.

"What's going on?" Shane asked. Rai looked a bit pale. "Are you alright, Rai-Rai?"

Raisa nodded at him, swallowing, quiet.

"She's a bit nervous." Ilya explained, smiling at her in that same calm way Shane saw him smile when he wanted to ease Shane's mind. "She never had a dinner like this."

"Oh. That's…understandable." Shane said. "There's nothing to be scared of, Rai. My parents are very nice."

"Yeah, I told her. I know them already, yes?" Ilya pointed to himself as he looked at his daughter. "You look beautiful, malen'kaya, you're smart, you're brave, they're gonna love you."

Raisa fidgeted with her fingers, still focused in that amusing, endearing way.

"Can you tell me their names again?" She asked shyly. "I don't want to be rude and forget."

"Shane's mom is Yuna. Shane's dad is David."

"You can call them their names, sweetie." Shane stroked her tense shoulder as she looked between them, unsure. "They're gonna love you just as much as I loved you straight away."

Raisa's big blue eyes focused on him.

"Will they ask me questions?"

"Yeah." Shane nodded with a smile. "They're here to meet you, of course they'll ask questions. They want to get to know you."

"Why?"

"Because you're very important to me." Shane leaned to kiss her forehead. "You and your dad. They want to get to know you both a bit better."

Raisa pressed her lips together as she nodded again, clearly preparing herself for the utmost important task of being likable. 

Shane could relate all too well to that. He spent most of his childhood writing down things about other kids in hopes they could appreciate the effort of him remembering. In hopes of finding a friend.

"Go play a little bit, okay?" Ilya took her down from the island with a slight groan. "My big girl."

Raisa ran to the living room, murmuring to herself in Russian as she fished out a doll from her toy box. Ilya turned to Shane with his hands on his hips.

"Is all new to her." He explained quietly. "We never had a family. She really wants them to like her."

Shane looked at the girl with a sinking heart in his chest.

Ilya and Raisa had to fight for everything in their lives. Especially for good people sticking around.

"They'll love her. Don't worry. This isn't some sort of an interview, right?" Shane managed a quiet laugh. "You're being properly introduced, not tested or anything."

Ilya nodded, although with little conviction.

"Yes."

"You look great, have I told you that already?"

Ilya smiled at him.

"You can always tell me again."

"Well, then, you look amazing." Shane kissed his cheek. "How do I look?"

"Hot."

"Ilya."

"Very…presentable." He gestured as he was searching for the word. "Very nice, yes. Do we take out the chicken now?"

"Uh, no, it's supposed to be there for another twenty minutes or more." Shane checked his watch. "That's what the recipe said."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay. I'll go play with Raisa, so she's not scared."

Shane patted his shoulder lightly.

"Tell her again that she looks beautiful."

"I will."

He watched Ilya sit down on the carpet and talk to the little girl in Russian. She listened to him with wide open eyes, clutching her dolls.

Shane went to the bathroom to spray his hair one last time.

He got the notification minutes before his parents knocked on the door.

His smile faded from his face gradually. His heart felt heavy, cold, empty, dropping to his stomach. His face went pale.

Grades were published.

He didn't get an 80% on the final exam. He got 23%.

He failed it.

"No. No, no, no, no…" He shook his head, breathing heavily as he logged onto his uni account to see it in the grading system. "No, please, no…"

He slowly sat down on the closed toilet, blinking away the blurry vision.

There it was.

Twenty-three percent. Marked in red. And by its side, his final grade, affected by this stupid exam so much that his previous assignments couldn't make up the loss. It was one-third of his grade after all.

COURSE FAILED

"Fuck." He bit his fingernail, trying not to scream. "No!"

He refreshed the page, as if this could be a mistake. He got another email which informed him of the failed class. Options were listed out, each of them worse than the last. He felt sick.

He didn't study enough. He was too tired, too lazy, too unfocused, and he failed this last class of the year.

He couldn't even hear the doorbell, not until Ilya was calling for him, knocking on the bathroom door.

"Shane, baby? They're here."

Shane cleared his throat and stood up on weak legs.

"I'm coming!"

Everything was a blur.

His mind was nothing but static noise, and he couldn't see properly as he opened the door for Yuna and David. He managed a smile, a few nods, a hello, inviting them in. He felt lightheaded. His bones were too heavy. His spine couldn't keep his head up.

"We brought some wine to celebrate!" Yuna smiled widely, handing Ilya the bottle. Ilya stood with his shoulders a bit down, nervous in a way Shane rarely saw him be. "So many good things to raise a glass to, am I right?"

"She loves a good excuse." David chuckled, taking her coat off. "Something smells wonderful."

"Yeah, the…the chicken." Shane muttered out. "I made chicken."

"That's great, son. I'm starving."

It wasn't until Shane felt tiny hands cling to his pants, just above the knee, that he snapped out of the sheer bubble of nothingness that conquered his mind.

Raisa was hiding behind him, looking at the guests with curious but cautious eyes. Shane's hand instinctively went to her shoulder.

Get it together.

"Mom, dad, of course you know Ilya already." He pointed to the man with a soft smile, even while he felt like dying. Failure. Again. "This is Raisa. Rai, say hi."

Raisa waved at them slowly.

"Hi." She whispered, looking up at Yuna as the woman bent her knees so she would not tower over her. "Hello."

"Hello, Raisa." Yuna gently took her little hand in hers, shaking it. "I'm Yuna."

Raisa nodded.

"I know. Shane told me."

"Oh, that's nice of him. Look what I got here." She reached into her purse and took out a small box wrapped with a bow. "It's for you."

Raisa looked up at Shane, waiting for permission. Shane smiled, nudging her forward with his fingers.

"You can take it, don't worry."

The girl took the gift in her hands, rotating it to see the fancy wrapping paper.

"Thank you." She said with the tiniest, quietest voice. Yuna smiled at them both, finding her shyness endearing.

"Aren't you the sweetest?"

Raisa looked at David with a tilted head.

"Are you Mr David?"

David nodded, shaking her hand as Yuna did.

"Nice to meet you, young lady."

"She gets a bit shy with strangers." Ilya explained. "She was the same with Shane at first."

"Papa." Raisa frowned, taking a few steps to pull at Ilya's shirt. "Up."

"Ah, you are tiny baby again?" Ilya picked her up with a chuckle. Raisa hid in his arms, holding her gift to her chest. "Give her a few minutes."

"Of course." Yuna nodded. "She must be a bit overwhelmed."

Ilya handed Shane the wine bottle and walked with Raisa to the living room, rubbing her back. Shane stood in the hallway as his parents took their shoes off.

"I hope there wasn't any traffic?" He asked out of habit, filling the silence. David waved his hand.

"Just a bit, but you know. People coming from work." He took a longer look at his son's face. "Are you alright?"

"What? Yes." Shane sighed deeply, fidgeting with the bottle. "Just a bit tired."

"You look handsome in this shirt." Yuna straightened up the fabric over Shane's shoulder, despite his eye roll. She had a black dress on, and David wore his beige dress shirt as well. "Are things okay after the move?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course." He motioned towards the living room. "Come, everything's set up."

He guided them to the dining table. David kept looking around at all the changes in the apartment, the yellow plate hung on the wall, the books, Raisa's toys. His words didn't reach Shane's ears. The phone in Shane's pocket seemed to gain weight with every second.

Ilya arranged the bowls with the salad, veggies, and rice on the table and helped Raisa climb the big chair. She was still looking a bit stiff. 

"How is work?" Ilya asked Yuna with a polite smile on his face. "Good?"

"Oh, yes, it's going great. Thanks to our little genius here." She reached out to squeeze Shane's hand, and Shane felt like throwing up on the table. "David can't wait to hear all about the deal Shane managed to secure. Did he tell you?"

"Yes, I've heard. Seems, uh…" Ilya waved his wrist. "Complicated. I don't know a lot about business."

"How are things at your workshop?" David joined in, seated by his wife. Raisa sat between Shane and Ilya, playing with her napkin. "Busy?"

"Very busy, yes."

"I'm sure it was a busy week for all three of you." Yuna sighed, joining her hands under her chin. "I gotta say, I was a bit surprised when Shane told me you'd be moving in…"

"Mom." Shane let out, staring at his empty plate. "Please."

"I was! It's not a bad thing to be surprised, is it?" She sent Raisa a tiny smile. "It just seemed…early, and…"

"Mom."

"Quite spontaneous. I'm sure you know I don't know that side of Shane that much." Yuna looked at Ilya, who was now sitting like a schoolboy with his hands on his lap. "But it's clearly paying off!"

"It's not a business meeting, darling." David said softly. "We're very glad the move was swift and easy for you."

"Well, easy is a word." Ilya scrunched his nose with a chuckle. "Is a big change for us all."

"I bet. Raisa, do you like it here?" David leaned over the table to look into the girl's eyes. Raisa nodded. "What do you like most?"

Raisa looked to Ilya for help, but he just stroked her arm gently, encouraging her to speak.

"I like my room." She said slowly. "Shane built me a desk."

"Assembled." Shane mumbled. "It's pre-made."

"Is a good desk." Ilya shrugged with a fond look. "Shane likes to, uh, spoil us."

Yuna didn't seem surprised.

"He's got the means to do it, I suppose."

Shane stood up and grabbed the wine bottle before she even finished the sentence.

"I'll open the wine." He declared, running off to the kitchen.

He couldn't find the bottle opener for a minute. He kept opening the same drawer and looking inside, missing it. He could hear the conversations happening behind his back.

"Is Raisa's daycare far away from here?"

"Oh, no, not that much, no."

"Do you have any friends there, Raisa?"

"Da."

"English, sweetheart."

"Sorry. Yes."

"She's got such a cute accent, doesn't she?"

"Shane was thinking about teaching her some French, too."

"That would be wonderful. She's a bright child."

"Rai, say thank you."

"Thank you, Mrs Yuna."

"Yuna is alright, sweetie."

"Sorry, Mrs Yuna."

"Ilya, we've never really asked you about the parental…arrangements concerning Raisa."

"I would rather not do it with…"

"Is her mom in the picture?"

"Yuna."

"What? It's an honest question, David, I'm just curious."

"She's not. In the picture, I mean. But she has me, and Shane now, and I couldn't be happier for what I can give her now."

"You clearly love her a lot."

"Sweetheart, maybe let's not do this around her, okay?"

"Right. Sorry. Rai, do you enjoy this neighbourhood?"

"What is neighbourhood?"

Shane returned to the table with the opener, breathing heavily through his nose.

"The area." He explained shortly. Ilya reached for the bottle, but Shane shook his head. "I got it."

"I like the park here." Raisa said shyly. "Dogs."

David smiled at her sincerely.

"You like dogs?"

"I do! Papa promised me a puppy someday. When I'm bigger." She pouted. "He says I have to be big enough to go on walks with puppy."

"Yes, and big enough to be able to hold the leash at least." Ilya fixed her braid as he spoke. "We're too busy for a puppy now."

"I will take care of it! I promise!"

"I'm sure you believe…"

The cork exploded in Shane's hands.

One second, it was secured with the opener, the next one, it was flying to the ceiling, and with it a thick, red stream of wine.

Raisa let out a scream, surprised, as the wine hit everything.

Shane's shirt. David's shirt, the entire table, spotting the tablecloth in crimson. Shane cursed, covering the bottle with his hand, but that didn't help, the wine kept erupting over his fingers, onto his shirt and plate.

"Fuck!"

"Hey, hey, is just wine." Ilya laughed, standing up to help him. "Don't curse."

"Stupid fucking…"

"Shane." Ilya took the bottle from him as it started to calm down. His tone turned a bit more serious. "Go grab some napkins, yes? Shane?"

Shane looked at his hands, all sticky and wet now, trembling with anger and frustration. Everything was red. Perhaps his eyes were the problem. He couldn't see straight through the blood rushing through his veins.

"It's alright." Yuna cleaned off her plate with her napkin. "They do that sometimes."

"I'm sure you have some wine hidden away for special occasions." David said teasingly, winking at Raisa to let her know no tragedy had occurred. At least her clothes were spotless. "We've got so much to celebrate, after all, the Gillman deal, your exam, the move…"

Shane felt like fainting.

Ilya grabbed his wrist softly, trying to make him understand the words coming out of his mouth.

"Shane. Napkins?"

Shane nodded weakly, marching to the kitchen with a tight throat.

Napkins. Napkins. Napkins.

He washed his hand frantically, tried to dry off as much of his shirt as he could, but it was ruined. He was ruined. 

He sniffed the air and dropped the paper towels on the floor as he smelt burning.

The noise altered everyone, so now, Yuna was standing up by the table, concerned.

"Shane? Is everything alright?"

Shane didn't answer. He grabbed a towel to open the oven and almost burned his face off with the smoky steam coming out of it.

It wasn't right. The recipe stated exactly how long the chicken was supposed to be cooked, he followed it, he followed the instructions, why was everything so cosmically fucked?

He took the chicken out, panting, and threw it onto the kitchen island with how quickly heat transferred through the cotton towel. 

The chicken was fully black.

Coal.

All of the marinating, the spices, the careful work he's put into it turned into an uneatable, coal block that smelt like a collapsed mine.

"No." He groaned, lowering his head. "No, Jesus Christ…"

David clicked his tongue by the dining table.

"You forgot to take it out?"

"The recipe said…"

"Papa told you to take it out." Raisa frowned. "It smells bad now."

Ilya laughed at the deadpan honesty.

"Rai, I'm sure Shane tried really hard to…"

"To burn a simple chicken." Shane choked out. Silence followed his pathetic words. "I can't cook a dinner. I can't cook a stupid dinner. I'm sorry."

He stumbled on his feet back to the table. Ilya reached him halfway.

"Is okay. We can order, or I can…"

"No."

"I'll make something." Ilya stroked his back, but Shane couldn't even look at him. At anyone. He slouched in his chair, and couldn't breathe. Ilya glanced at Yuna and David. "I make good pelmeni."

Yuna raised her eyebrows.

"That's a…soup?"

A broken, loud sob escaped Shane's lips as he hid his face in his hands.

After everything this week had him go through, he couldn't stop crying.

His shirt was sticking to his body. His flat smelled like burnt chicken. Raisa was looking at him like he was insane. His parents were confused. He failed, and failed, and failed, and couldn't catch a fucking break.

Stupid, incompetent kid. Can't handle a simple deal.

What are you crying about? You deserve this. You're lucky anyone puts up with you.

You're a stranger to her.

Twenty-three percent.

Run routes, Montreal.

"It's just a chicken, Shane." David said cautiously. "We still have rice, and vegetables, we could…"

"I fucked up the thing with Gillman." Shane cried out, not daring to look at his father. "I couldn't make it to the meeting, and he canceled it, and then he was s-so angry, he wants to break our contract altogether."

He couldn't see their faces, but he knew what he'd find on them. Disappointment. The silence in the room only amplified it.

"You've had a long week, malysh." Ilya crouched by his chair. "Our move, and your exam…"

"I failed that too." Shane pushed the palms of his hands into his eyes. "I failed it, and so I failed my class, and I'm-I'm so fucking sorry."

No one even corrected him as he cursed.

He cried harder, pulling on his hair.

"It's so much. I can't." He almost whined. "I let you all down, I…"

"What are you talking about?" Ilya hushed. "You didn't let anyone down."

"It was the longest, the worst week ever, and there's nothing to celebrate, I wanted this to be perfect." It took all of Shane's bravery to glance at his mom, who looked at him, frowning. He lowered his head again. "I'm sorry."

He didn't hear Raisa coming down from her chair, but he felt her tiny hand on his knee, asking for attention.

"Daddy?"

He looked to Ilya, gesturing.

"Take her, she's upset." He murmured. Rai was asking for her father, just like on Tuesday, Shane couldn't give her what she needed. Raisa looked at him, sick with worry. "Your dad will take you to your room, okay?"

"Daddy, why are you crying?"

The question shocked Shane so much, he stopped crying.

He lifted his head, sniffing, blinking with a stupidly wet face. Raisa kept looking at him.

"What?"

Raisa pulled on his sleeve.

"Don't be sad."

Shane stared at her, transfixed, until Ilya spoke.

"Daddy's not sad, baby." He rubbed Raisa's back. "He just had a long week."

"Oh. Does he need a hug?"

Shane nodded weakly, speechless. Raisa climbed his lap to hug him tightly.

So much love in such a small person. A baby girl who called him her daddy.

He could start crying again at the thought, but instead, he breathed in, rocking both her and himself.

"I'm not sad." He managed to say, closing his eyes as he held the girl to his chest. "I'm sorry for upsetting you."

Raisa squeezed her arms around his neck.

"Don't cry."

"I won't."

"Papa will make pelmeni, yes?"

Shane laughed quietly, nodding.

"Yeah, alright." He looked at Ilya through his puffy eyes. "Can you make pelmeni?"

Ilya stood up and gave him a firm kiss to his forehead.

"Of course. David, can I ask for your help?"

"Naturally."

"We might need to get rid of the evidence. Is bad luck to keep burnt chicken in the kitchen as you cook. Like a curse on the next dish."

David laughed at that, patting Shane's shoulder as he passed him.

"You've got a funny one."

Shane sniffed.

"Two."

Raisa hugged him until he could breathe normally, and sat in his lap, inspecting his puffy face.

"At daycare, Linda says, when we want to cry, we can tell someone." She furrowed her eyebrows together. "And then, we can have hug and feel better."

"I feel much better." He smiled weakly at her. Yuna watched them. "Do you really want to call me dad, sweetheart?"

Raisa blinked, confused.

"Yes. What else?"

"You don't have to, if…" He swallowed the ugly habit before he could finish. "Thank you, I mean."

Raisa looked to the kitchen, where Ilya was already preparing the island for the making of pelmeni.

"Papa said when we live together, you are my second dad." She said. "I thought you were already. I am…hm. Confused?"

"Oh. Do you, do you see me as your dad, sweetheart?"

"Yes."

"That's all then. I'm…" Shane squeezed his eyes for a second to stop the stinging. "I'm so happy about that, you know?"

His daughter smiled at him, and giggled when he kissed her head.

"Can I unpack my gift now?" She asked. "From Mrs Yuna."

Yuna looked at them both fondly.

"Of course. How about you show me your toys, and we unpack your gift, and Sha…your daddy, he'll take a minute to relax, okay?" Yuna offered the girl her hand. "There are so many things I want to ask you." 

Raisa got off Shane's lap, cautiously. She followed Yuna to the couch, more open now, talkative, the baby girl Shane knew and loved most. His little mini-Ilya, the heart of every party.

Shane stood up, wiped his cheeks with his hands, and stepped outside onto the balcony.

He needed the cold, fresh air. He needed a moment for his hands to stop tingling. For his ribs to stop caging in on him. To look at the city.

He inhaled slowly, with an empty mind. He could hear laughter from inside the building. Conversation. He just leaned against the railing, letting the wind ruffle his styled hair, in that drenched white shirt he still had on.

He stood there, motionless, until he heard the balcony door opening.

Ilya stepped outside with a blanket.

"You'll be cold." He said, wrapping the fabric around Shane's shaking shoulders. "Here."

Shane wiped his nose, looking at the man in front of him.

"Do you need any help with the food?"

"No, it's already cooking, so now we just wait." Ilya stood by his side, one arm draped around Shane's waist. "I cleaned up the table."

"Thank you."

"You welcome."

Shane glanced inside through the window.

"Is Rai…?"

"She's playing with her grandparents." Ilya whispered with a soft smile. "She's okay. Are you okay?"

Shane wasn't sure.

He just looked down, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"I'm sorry."

"You have to stop saying that, it was just wine, and chicken."

"No, I mean…that, too, but, everything. I'm sorry." Shane exhaled shakily. "I keep fucking up."

Ilya shook his head, bumping their foreheads together.

"You had a rough week. You didn't tell me this Gillman douchebag upset you."

"I didn't want to worry you. Or anyone." Shane rubbed his eyes. "And I failed the stupid exam, and I'll have to retake it, or repeat the whole year…"

"Then you repeat the year."

"It's not that simple."

"It is." Ilya tilted his head to look at him. A few of his curls escaped from the carefully styled hairstyle, bouncing on his temples. "Things happen sometimes. Is life."

Shane could only close his eyes. No words he knew in any language felt fitting for how regretful he was.

Ilya, on the other hand, was calm. Ilya, the king of second chances and new beginnings, a man who got a child as a teenager and had to start over more times than he could count, kissed Shane's nose with soothing pressure.

"It won't matter in the long run. You can slow down, you will get this degree, and next one. Not everything needs to go according to plan, because not everything will, that is sure, yes? Things will be out of your control, and plans will change, and we live."

"But…my parents…"

"Your parents are okay. We are good here." Ilya pulled him closer, and Shane could only fall into his arms, tension evaporating from his skin. "You had a bad week. A bad week is just bad week. You're not superhuman."

Shane chuckled sadly.

"You know, Rose said that to me yesterday as well."

"She is right. You're a person, yes? You are allowed to make mistakes, and have issues, and struggle, and be scared, you are just Shane. What makes you my Shane is that you always find a way out." Ilya grabbed his face into his hands. "I'm not looking for superhuman. I want my Shane."

He looked absolutely certain of his words.

Shane swallowed the gulp in his throat and breathed out slowly.

"I checked your phone this morning." He admitted, shamefully. "I don't know why."

Ilya frowned.

"What?"

"I know, it's such a shitty thing to do…"

"You found gift ideas? For you? That is not fair, that's cheating." Ilya poked him in his chest, making Shane laugh, even if barely. "I want to surprise you sometimes."

"No. No, I mean, yes, but…I'm just sorry. I shouldn't have."

"I gave you password so you can check."

"It's not that I don't trust you."

"Then what is it?"

Here it comes.

Shane rested his hands on Ilya's shoulders, as if he could make him stay that way forever.

"I was worried I'm too much for you. That my problems are causing you trouble. Stress. I woke up alone…"

"I wanted to go on a run."

"...I woke up alone, and I felt guilty, and shitty, and I just…I had to check." 

Ilya nodded, stroking Shane's cheek with his thumb now.

"Okay."

Shane blinked.

"You're not mad?"

"About checking my gift ideas list? Yes. That is off limits." He smiled as Shane huffed quietly. "I do worry about you, because I love you. I Google things when I can't sleep, because I want to know how to help, not because you're too much. You are perfect for me."

"Stop it, that's…"

"No." Ilya beamed at him, smiling ear to ear. "Do you have any idea how lucky I am to have you? Not your money, or this." He gestured towards the apartment. "Is nice bonus, yes, but you…"

He poked Shane in the chest with his finger.

"You are everything. Okay? To me, to Raisa. I never thought I could give her a true family, and you gave us both so much more than that already. Remember our first date, when I asked if it's okay she's there?" 

Shane nodded, pressing his lips together. He did. He was shocked, but not in the way Ilya expected. Raisa was a surprise, but not an unpleasant one.

"You said the restaurant wasn't good place for her, because there weren't a lot of food options for kids." Ilya planted his hands on Shane's shoulders, still looking at him so sincerely. "I wanted to kiss you then. Since the moment I met you, you were everything and more."

Shane had to fight his trembling lower lip as he motioned towards the kitchen.

"I burnt the chicken."

"Oh, no." Ilya groaned. "What now? I am moving out. I'm taking our daughter and leaving. You burnt chicken! The recipe lied to you, and now we have block of coal in the trash! Tragedy."

"Ilya!"

"I stick to cooking." Ilya pressed a soft kiss against Shane's lips. "You stick to being amazing at everything else. How is that?"

Shane mumbled, so very tired of his own tears.

"I'm not amazing at everything else."

"You try more than amazingly."

"I'm not sure that's grammatically correct."

"Sue me. Is that grammatically correct?" Ilya kissed him again, smiling as Shane hummed. "You can talk to me. You're not a burden, or anything like that. You're my boyfriend. My daughter's second dad, yes?"

Shane wiped the corners of his eyes.

"Did you tell her to call me that?"

"No. She's smart enough to know on her own. You've been her dad for a long time now."

"Am I…am I a good dad?"

"Hm. Second favorite, I think." Ilya giggled at the tiny push Shane gave him as punishment for that statement. "You can't always be the best. You'll be daddy, I'll be papa. Is okay?"

Shane nodded. More than okay.

More than anything he's ever dreamed of.

"Thank you." He whispered, brushing their noses together. "You won't leave?"

"You're stuck with me."

"Funny."

"Yes, I am very funny, you should know." Ilya purred, kissing Shane's upper lip. "I will ask Sveta to babysit through the weekend."

"What? Why?"

"So Sveta can be a good auntie, and you can get some rest." Ilya nudged Shane's chin up to make him look at him. "And so I can finally fuck you properly."

That did sound nice. Shane wouldn't want to admit it while his parents were in their living room, but he simply nodded, smiled, and kissed Ilya deeper, wrapping his arms around Ilya's neck.

Ilya's kisses would always bring him home.

He wasn't sure how long he stood there, wrapped in the blanket and Ilya's arms, trying to say everything he couldn't form into sentences through a simple kiss. He only moved away when there was a knock on the glass door, and a quiet, deep voice.

"Boys, sorry, but, uh…I think the pel…the pelmani?" David struggled through the pronunciation. "The dumplings are ready, I think. Ilya?"

"Yes, I will check." Ilya let go of Shane slowly. "Sometimes they need a minute longer, so they're not chewy."

"Could you remind me how to pronounce it?"

"Pelmeni."

"Right. Pelmeni." David smiled, proud of himself, and let Ilya through into the apartment. "I'll be with you in a second. Smells delicious!"

Not burnt, at least. Ilya was a much better cook.

Shane fixed the blanket around his shoulders and wiped his lips with the back of his hand as David stepped outside, straightening his shirt. He got a bit of flour over it. He really did help Ilya roll the pelmeni on the counter.

"Hi. Are you feeling better?"

Shane nodded.

"Yeah. Listen, dad…"

David lifted his hand to silence him immediately.

"Don't worry about anything."

Shane sighed.

"It was your client. Your project. I really tried, but I just…I seemed too young to him, I don't know."

"He's a fool. That's what he is, to turn down my best expert because of his age." David leaned against the railing by his side, shaking his head in disappointment at Gillman. "If he wants to break the contract, let him. He'll go bankrupt by fall, you know this, you probably tried to warn him."

Shane huffed.

"Yeah. More or less."

"Sometimes our clients are absolute assholes. It wasn't your fault, whatever happened, I'm sure of it." David smiled at him reassuringly. "Don't worry. I'll handle it from now on."

Shane shook his head.

"I can do it. I promise, I…"

"I know you can, but let me take this off your hands, alright? I know you're more than capable. You've built this life for yourself at just twenty-three." David chuckled with quiet disbelief. "You've come so far, and you're so ambitious. And now this, Ilya and Raisa…"

Shane bit his lower lip.

"Mom thinks it's too soon."

"She doesn't think that. She was concerned, for a moment, for no reason. She sees things as they are now." David pointed to the living room. "Raisa is a wonderful girl. Ilya's a good man, and they both clearly love you."

Shane felt like love didn't do it justice. He's never had anyone as devoted to him as Ilya. As trusting as Raisa. As understanding and caring as his beloved family.

"I love them, too." He murmured. "So much it scares me sometimes."

David nodded.

"Yeah. I know. Having a kid does that to you." He sighed. "But it really is worth it. You were worth it, Shane. I want you to know that."

For the first time in a while, Shane started thinking that maybe it was right.

Maybe he was worth the trouble.

He nodded and got back inside with David. Raisa was talking to her grandma enthusiastically, her previous shyness gone now. Ilya brought the pelmeni over to the table and invited everyone to the meal.

"You might want to change first." Ilya pointed at Shane's drenched shirt. "You look like in a horror movie."

"Right." Shane folded the blanket and put it on the couch. "I'll be right back."

He took the shirt off, wiped his chest with wet wipes, fixed his hair, and pulled a comfortable sweater on. 

He ate the delicious dinner, listening to his parents' stories, to Raisa's silly jokes, and smiling as Ilya's foot pressed against his under the table. Yuna reached out to squeeze Shane's hand as she spoke of him, and this time, he didn't feel like dying. She smiled at him as if everything was okay.

"We're very proud of you." She said after a long monologue about how great the cutlery Shane had chosen was. She gestured towards Ilya, who had Raisa on his lap now, as she declared she wanted to play with the buttons of his sleeve. "And we're more than happy that Shane found such good people to call his own."

Shane groaned quietly, embarrassed.

"Mom."

"We're happy to have him, too." Ilya beamed at him. "He's a very bad cook, but has other good qualities."

"Well, if it's of any consolation, the pelmeni are great, Ilya!" Yuna reached for the pan. "Does anyone want seconds?"

Raisa lifted her hand.

"Me!"

"Give him more, too." Ilya pointed to Shane's plate. "He hasn't eaten all day."

Shane spread his arms.

"Hey."

"You need some good food. Or do you want your burnt chicken from the trash?"

"I'm…it's not that bad, I'm sure it's…"

"Papa said it was rock solid." Raisa frowned. "Like iron."

"I said coal, baby." Ilya laughed. "But yeah. Rock solid."

Shane rolled his eyes, watching Yuna put more pelmeni onto his plate.

"Thank you." He mumbled.

He ate good food with his family, peaceful at last.

Chapter End Notes

if you want to check out the lullaby ilya sang to shane it's "Kolybel'naya medveditsy" :))
one more chapter and we wrap up! yes i am merging the weekend into one chapter. it will be worth it tho.