Chapter Text
On a particularly bad brain day, when Shane went out for a branded photoshoot, Ilya caved into his vices, and decided to smoke.
He rarely smoked anymore; it had been months since he had touched a cigarette. Even so, he had a secret pack stashed in the house just in case, and he thanked his past self for being proactive.
Only - when he found the pack, he also found a picture of Shane taped to the outside, efficiently sealing over the opening. Shane was spread out in the photo, perfectly stretched to look like he was blocking Ilya from entering a doorway, or in this case, the pack. The speech bubble was tiny, and just said “NO” in big, bold letters.
Ilya just laughed in bewilderment, and found that it was enough to actually make him return the pack to its hiding spot.
How insane, that just a photo of his husband could completely change his mood? That it could completely change his bad habits? Smoking had been an addiction that he had struggled with for years, but a photo of Shane was enough to help him make a better choice.
Ilya looked around in consideration and really took stock of how their house had become a gallery of little ways his husband helped him.
He was still learning how to manage his mental illness. And no matter how many therapy sessions he attended, or how his medication helped to regulate the ups and downs of his mood, or how successful and full his life was, he still struggled sometimes. But, all the silly photos helped. It helped him stay consistent, gave him a reason to try, which was the hardest part sometimes. Looking into Shane’s eyes, even 2D, printed and laminated, made him want to be better. Made him want to try. He didn’t want to disappoint the man he loved so, so dearly.
Shane had been committing this act of love, a grand gesture gradually built over years of their relationship. A quiet consideration that could be easy to brush off as ‘silly’ or ‘minor’. But it truly was a testament to his love for Ilya. A dedicated effort, a way to say “I’m going to show up for you, and continue to show up for you, and I will always be thinking of how to ease your burdens.”
Ilya loved him so much, the words failed him in every language. Sometimes, it felt like all the particles in his body were vibrating so ferociously with the feeling, that Ilya was going to explode and dissipate into thin air.
When Shane arrived home later, calling out into the house to announce his arrival, Ilya stayed where he was: bundled in a blanket on the couch, some baking competition video playing in the background on low volume. Eventually, Shane made his way into the living room, idly petting Anya as she walked alongside him, tail wagging frantically. When he saw Ilya wrapped in his ‘depression blanket’, his face softened in sympathy, and he just quietly sat beside him, pulling Ilya towards him until his head was tucked beneath his chin.
“Bad day?” he asked in a low tone, instantly beginning to run his fingers through Ilya’s curls, kissing his forehead sweetly.
Ilya felt tears prick at his eyes, so he shut them, feeling emotion bubble up inside his chest. When he tried to speak, a croaky noise escaped his throat. Shane just hummed a questioning sound, carefully tilting Ilya’s head back so that he could see his face better.
“I just love you so much,” Ilya whispered through the tightness in his throat. He watched as Shane’s face melted into a sappy expression, as he leaned down to kiss him.
“I love you too.”
Ilya shook his head slightly, sitting up a bit so that he could look Shane in the eyes better.
“I don’t say that just because. I just - your photos. They have been so helpful to me. More than I think I knew. Maybe more than you know. And I think it really hit me today: how much love and care you have put into doing this for me. You just… see me. Better than anyone. No one will ever know me so well. You make life easier in a million different ways. Especially when it is hard for me to just… exist,” Ilya parsed out, unsure of how exactly to explain the immense emotion boiling over in his body.
Shane’s eyes welled up in the way that they always did, showcasing his own overwhelm of emotions without letting the tears fully escape.
“I’m really glad that I can do anything to help you, Ilya. It’s the least I can do to pay you back for all that you do for me. You make my life easier too.”
Ilya laughed in a self-deprecating tone, clearly not in agreement.
“No, no, no. Ilya. Baby. Listen. You do so much for me. You have to know that. So many small things, like cutting the tags off of any new shirt I buy, because you know they drive me crazy. Or switching the lamps on when you can see that I’m stressed out. You open the leftover food containers for me without me even having to ask, because you know the condensation grosses me out so much. You wipe down the sink counter with the correct hand towel, and don’t touch my face towel, because you know how I get about that. You know the right time to tease me to keep me from spiraling, and the right time to stay quiet and give me space. I know I’m a neurotic mess. I feel like an alien half the time with how the world stresses me out. But you make it so easy to exist. You are always, constantly, quietly accommodating for my multitude of quirks. You make me feel normal. You make me feel easy to love. And, so, I just want to make sure that you feel the same way. Because loving you is the easiest thing I’ve ever done.”
By the time Shane stopped, he was breathless, and his tears had finally broken containment. Ilya couldn’t judge, because his face was also wet with tears.
He whispered ‘I love you’ in his mother tongue, leaning forward to transfer his emotions to Shane in the only way he could at that moment: by kissing him passionately, holding his face as tenderly as he could. Their tears mixed on both their cheeks, until they couldn’t tell what belonged to who. Intertwined physically and emotionally.
In a few hours, they would go to bed. Ilya would blow a kiss to the tiny Shane above the towel rack, while hanging his towel up neatly. He would floss, courtesy of the tiny Shane stuck to his mirror, while the real Shane brushed his teeth. Ilya would hand him his face towel while he took his turn brushing, then wipe down the counter with the correct sink towel. While Shane crawled under the covers, Ilya would walk through the house, checking the locks on all windows and doors, and double check that Shane’s breakfast ingredients were set out in the right place. He would pick up the stray sock that hadn’t made it into the sock basket. He would fold his depression blanket, so that Shane had space to sit in his favorite couch corner in the morning, while he did his daily crossword from The New York Times website like a boring old man. He would say goodnight to Anya, deeply asleep in her bed, making sure to tuck her favorite blanket around her. He would crawl in bed beside his husband, after plugging in his phone to charge, as instructed by his bedside tiny Shane.
Then, he’d roll over, and reach out to hold his entire world in his arms, feeling grateful to be seen, and grateful to be alive.