Chapter Text
“So,” Hayden starts cautiously, piling another blanket onto Shane for good measure. Thank fucking Christ Jackie’s away for a girls night, or else he wouldn’t be able to handle the fury of two Pike’s.
“So…”
“You feel okay?” He asks. “Not nauseous, or dizzy, or anything?”
“No. I’m good.”
“Okay.” Hayden then reaches up and smacks Shane on the back of the head.
“Ow! Asshole!”
“What the hell was that!” Hayden asks. Shane rubs the back of his head in anger.
“What the hell was what? You assaulting me?!”
“Grow up, Holly.”
Shane shakes his head, completely baffled. “What are you going on about?!”
“Shane. My brother. My best friend. The only man I’d welcome with open arms into my bedroom-“
“Huh?”
“You are so totally in love with that man!”
Shane groans, burying himself under the pile of blankets Hayden’s thrown across his shivering body. Hayden kicks at the Shane-shaped lump until he pokes his head out.
“He was so dreamy, he was like- oh, how much money do you want? All of it? Okay! And his muscles- Jesus. Dove into a snowbank in a fucking t-shirt and dug through it like a maniac. Like- I think I have a crush on him!”
“You’re straight. And married.”
“So? I can’t have a man crush?” Hayden flops down next to him and gets under the blankets as well. “Just admit it.”
“Fine! I- I have feelings for him.”
“No! Not fine! You’re in love.”
Shane pushes at him, and Hayden pushes back, but they manage to stop their wrestling match early this time. Shane’s still exhausted from his multiple meltdowns today, and Hayden- well, Hayden’s just getting old.
“Fine. I might sort of be in love or whatever.” Shane pouts. Hayden squeals and wraps his arms around him.
“My baby boy is in love! And with a totally mega rich mega sexy Russian guy! It’s all a father could ever want.”
“Can you be normal about- like, anything? Ever?”
Hayden presses a wet, sloppy kiss to his cheek. Shane wipes it away.
“So… what does this mean about your arrangement? Cause that man is whipped for you.”
“We- we kind of ceased things,” Shane mumbles. He realizes Hayden has no intention of letting him out of arms length and aggressively adjusts him, trying to get comfortable laying on his side. He doesn’t have as much bulk as Ilya. He buries his face in Hayden’s shoulder and mumbles out, “I’mkindofmovinginwithhim.”
“Huh?!”
Shane sighs loudly. “I… uh… I haven’t been totally honest with you, Hayd.”
Hayden pinches him. “Clearly.”
“I just- I needed help, man. And he wants to give it to me. For some stupid reason.”
“Not stupid,” Hayden mumbles. He reaches over for his jacket. “Where’s my damn phone now? I gotta call Jackie.”
Shane closes his eyes, listening as Hayden grumbles, until the man suddenly stops in his tracks.
“Uh. Shane?”
“What?” Shane snaps, annoyed that Hayden disrupted him from his near slumber.
“What the fuck is this?”
Shane looks up, staring at the cheque in Hayden’s hands.
$25,000
To Hayden Pike
From Ilya Rozanov
I.R.
-
Ilya has barely opened the door before he’s being tackled, legs around his waist and arms around his neck. He opens his mouth to protest, to show his surprise, but Shane just presses his lips to his, shutting him up.
“Ah, ah, ah,” Ilya pants, adjusting his hold on Shane. “What is this for?”
“What the fuck is wrong with you!”
Shane jumps off of him, but Ilya keeps his hands on his ass. He’ll take what he can get.
“Ah, many things,” Ilya responds. He squeezes Shane’s ass for good measure. “I have cute boyfriend who is angry for some reason.”
“You fucking- you gave my friends twenty five thousand fucking dollars?”
“Oh, he got it,” Ilya dismisses. He squeezes Shane’s ass again and kisses him on the cheek. “We will bring your stuff back, da?”
“Ilya,” Shane says. He grabs his arm. “Seriously. Why did you do that?”
Ilya has the right to look flushed, his cheeks twinging pink and his eyes darting around to anywhere but Shane’s gaze. “He takes care of you,” he says, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.
Shane softens. He leans up, connecting their lips together again, and squeezes Ilya’s arm. “You did not have to do that. Whatsoever.”
“I do not know of word.”
Shane rolls his eyes, but looks around his shitty apartment, all of his belongings packed up neatly. “Did you stay up all night packing?”
“I do not want you to worry about it today.”
“Jesus,” Shane moves, wrapping his arms around Ilya’s shoulders and holding him tightly in a hug. “I don’t- I don’t know how to thank you. For this. For everything.”
Ilya’s arms snake around his waist. “Just be you.”
They make a couple trips to and from his apartment, bringing the boxes back to Ilya’s home, and Shane spends the rest of the afternoon unpacking, trying to keep things neat to match Ilya’s aesthetic. After many hours of frantic sorting, Ilya clears his throat.
“We are going out.”
“We- what? I have so much to do…”
“Shane,” Ilya cups his cheek. “We have all the time in the world.”
They end up in Ilya’s car, and Shane keeps asking where they’re going, but Ilya only dismisses him. After twenty minutes of driving, then end up at-
“Why are we at the arena?”
Ilya ignores him again, parking and getting out of the car. He scans his card on the way in, holding Shane’s hand tightly, and weaves him through the many hallways until they reach a single room.
“Sit,” Ilya orders. Shane sits without a word, though he’s still looking around, trying to piece things together. Ilya gets on his knees in front of him, and Shane has to admit he likes the view. “Leg.” He allows Ilya to manhandle his shoes off, tutting at the holes in them. “We buy new ones later.”
Shane watches as Ilya grabs a pair of skates from under the bench he’s sitting on, sliding them onto his feet and pulling the blade up to his thigh, tying them tightly.
“Ilya, I doubt I could even skate. I don’t- I’ll embarrass myself in the same rink the big guys play in.”
“I teach you,” Ilya says. He ties up Shane’s other skate. He dresses Shane up, knee pads and elbow pads, and pulls a helmet onto his head, much to Shane’s protest.
“I’m not a child.”
“I do not care. People get hurt. You are not to get hurt.”
Ilya throws on his own pair of skates and nothing else. They go down the hallway, Shane’s balance off, but he holds onto Ilya tightly. He leads him through a tunnel, and suddenly, Shane is looking up at almost 19,000 empty seats.
“Woah…”
Ilya grins at him. “Cool, da?”
He opens the door, stepping on the ice first, and holds his hands out. Shane hesitates. “I’m gonna fall.”
“No you won’t. I catch you.”
Shane shakily steps onto the ice, foot sliding under him, and barely has time to yelp before Ilya is gripping him tightly, keeping him upright. He brings the other foot onto the ice, knees wobbling, and holds tightly onto the boards.
“Just breathe,” Ilya says softly. “You have balance. Naturally.” He does a little circle on the ice, all grace, and Shane trusts him enough to carefully push away from the boards. He nearly eats shit once more, but Ilya grabs onto his hands. “I got you.”
Ilya skates him around, doing a couple laps around the giant rink, and waits until Shane stops shaking to let go.
“Don’t let go!”
“You got it,” Ilya says. “Trust yourself. Trust me.”
Shane takes a nervous glide, his skate sliding across the ice, and laughs loudly when he doesn’t fall. He tests the other leg, and soon, he’s able to skate in a straight line without stumbling.
“Good boy,” Ilya praises softly. He’s got this grin on his face that Shane’s never seen before. “You are natural.”
Shane gains confidence, skating a little faster, and manages to even go around a bend on the ice. He’s so busy celebrating his own success that he doesn’t realize he’s gaining speed, and as he’s a foot away from Ilya, he also realizes that he doesn’t know how to stop.
He crashes into Ilya’s frame, sending them both flying down, and Shane instantly cups the back of his head, not letting him hit it on the ice. Ilya chokes, the wind blown out of him, but then looks up at Shane’s horrified face and can’t contain his laughter.
“Jesus, Shane. You do not kill me.”
Shane relaxes on top of him, letting out a deep sigh of relief, and pulls his own helmet off.
“This sport is scary.”
“Yeah, if you are little baby,” Ilya teases. He looks perfectly content to be underneath of Shane, even though Shane knows how cold it must be on his back. “You were getting good.”
“I was not…” Shane trails off, eyes falling to Ilya’s lips. He leans forward, kissing him softly, and lets out a surprised noise when Ilya’s tongue slips past his bottom lip, entering his mouth. Ilya drinks all his noises up, moving so Shane’s back is against the ice, and slots his knee in between Shane’s legs. “Fuck…”
“You like?” Ilya asks, mouth moving down and tracking along Shane’s jawline. Shane throws his head back, Ilya’s hand protecting it from smacking against the ice, and closes his eyes. “Use your words.”
“Yes- fuck, I love it, I love y- I love it,” Shane mumbles. He moans softly when Ilya sucks a mark into his neck.
“Good boy,” Ilya whispers against his skin. “Is too cold for you. Come.”
Shane is barely there when Ilya pulls him up off the ice, mind racing, and he allows Ilya to drag him into the change room from earlier, getting pinned to the wall instantly. His mouth is back on his, lips moving against eachother in perfect rhythm, and all Shane can do is clench his fists at his side.
“You can touch,” Ilya says against his mouth. He smirks when Shane brings his hands up to his arms, stroking up and down, and deepens the kiss even further. He pulls Shane’s elbow pads off without looking, discarding them on the ground, and picks up one of Shane’s legs, sliding himself even closer and grinding against Shane. He’s about to pull back to take his shirt off when-
“Hey, boss! Ryan saw you come in, I- holy shit!”
Ilya instantly pulls back, Shane nearly falling to the floor, but he manages to keep himself upright. The young man at the door has turned his back away.
“Shit, shit, sorry, I didn’t- I didn’t see anything. Uh. The- uh- the vendors called. They won’t have anyone to restock until tomorrow evening.”
“There is game in morning,” Ilya responds, voice gravelly. Shane kind of wants to record him for future use. “Will not work.”
“We have everything here, we just don’t have the staff to stock it all.”
Ilya sighs heavily. He runs a hand down his face. “You can turn around. We are not naked.”
“Oh, sorry,” he laughs uncomfortably. He waves at Shane, who gives an awkward wave back. “I can, uh, I guess I can stay overnight? Try and get as much done as possible?”
“No,” Ilya sighs again. “I will stay. You go home. Do not leave wife home with baby alone.”
The man gives him a grateful smile. “Okay, just text me if you need help later.”
Ilya watches him go, bending down to untie Shane’s skates. His jaw is clenched. After Shane’s undressed from his gear, he grabs his jacket and hands it to Shane.
“Keys are in the pocket. I will not be home.”
“No,” Shane says quietly. Ilya raises an eyebrow.
“No? What is no for?”
Shane flushes under the intense look. “No. I’ll stay and help.”
“You do not have to-“
“I want to,” Shane says quietly. He watches carefully as Ilya unties his own skates, toeing them off, and slides on a pair of shoes. He hands Shane a pair of slippers.
The two of them make their way up far too many stairs, stopping for a breather halfway through when Shane thinks he may die. They finally make it up to the main floor, the lights off, and Ilya flicks a switch that brings power back.
“Okay, they drop all the stuff off in the back, so we put it in the fridges.”
“I worked at a grocery store for four years,” Shane brags, then realizes it doesn’t sound like a brag, and doubles down. “I’m good with my hands.”
“Oh, I am sure you are,” Ilya teases.
Over the next two hours, the two of them work in tandem, sliding past each other to reach over shoulders and restocking fridges and cabinets. It’s nearing ten when Shane’s stomach growls.
“Oh, shit. You are hungry. Uh- there is resturant nearby, I can call-“
Shane shakes his head. “No, you spoil me with the rich food all the time, I want to show you how I used to live it up.”
He grabs a few hot dogs from one of the fridges, throwing them on the grill, and tries to ignore the way Ilya’s eyes are burning into him from behind. He loads them up, as messy as can be, with all condiments available, pickles, and as much cheese as he can fit.
“I survived off of hot dogs for, like, eight months,” Shane admits. He sits on the ground, legs stretched out in front of them, and gestures for Ilya to join him. The man pulls Shane’s legs onto his lap as he grabs his own plate. “Had to learn how to dress them up so they didn’t taste the same every night.”
“This was… after the accident?” Ilya says quietly. He feels the way Shane’s muscles tense on him.
“Uh. Yeah. I- how did you, uh, how did you hear about that?”
Ilya rubs his free hand along Shane’s calf. “Hayden said, back at the store. Car accident?”
Shane’s eye twitches. He looks away, then back at Ilya, and tries to give him the most reassuring smile he can. “Yeah.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Ilya asks. His back is starting to ache a bit from sitting on the floor, but he thinks he could sit here forever without complaint if it meant keeping Shane happy. He rubs his thumb soothingly along Shane’s shin.
“Oh. Uh. We don’t- we don’t have to. I don’t want to, like, ruin the mood.”
“Is no mood,” Ilya says. He takes a bite of his hot dog and nods. “Good. You are good chef.”
Shane laughs quietly, but its surface level. Ilya can tell he wants to talk.
“Okay,” Ilya says. “Eat your food. Then we will talk.”
Shane nods, the order settling him slightly, and makes quick work of their dinner. After they eat, he’s squirming a bit, restless, and Ilya keeps a watchful eye.
“Do you need to kneel?” He asks quietly. Shane shakes his head.
“No, no, I’m good here. I just-“ he sighs. “I haven’t really talked about it in a while. I don’t know where to start.”
Ilya brings his other hand up to rest on Shane’s leg as well. He begins massaging the muscles there gently, squeezing softly. “Tell me about them.”
A soft smile appears on Shane’s face. “They’re- uh, they were the best parents I could have asked for.” His head tilts to the side from where it’s leaning against the counter, and he stares down at the floor. “My mom. She- she was the most loving person ever. Just, like, so welcoming. To everyone. We had a house full of foster pets all my life because she just wanted to keep the door open for anyone who needed it. And my dad, he was really sensitive. Kind of quiet, but only if he wanted to be. Always knew what to say whenever I had a problem.”
Ilya keeps massaging him. He pulls Shane’s legs a little closer.
“They, uh, the accident. Happened on New Year’s Eve. I was at Hayden and Jackie’s when I got the call,” Shane’s voice cracks slightly. He blinks quickly and doesn’t take his eyes off the floor. “I just… I don’t know how to describe it. It’s like every part of me that- that knew how to be a person just… went away.”
“I understand,” Ilya says quietly. Shane’s eyes dart to him. “My mother.”
“I’m sorry,” Shane says. Ilya dismisses him with a wave of his hand.
“Long time ago.”
“Doesn’t make it hurt less,” Shane says. Ilya finds with horror that his own eyes are burning, and he shakes his head, looking away.
“Sorry,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. Just- uh, have to go check the, uh…” he moves to get up, but Shane grabs onto his arm, keeping him there.
“Hey,” Shane says quietly. “It’s okay.” He rubs his thumb over Ilya’s forearm, and freezes when Ilya gently grasps his wrist, his thumb running over the thick scar that sits there.
“This was…” Ilya trails off, his voice pinched. “Also accident?”
Shane shakes his head. “No.” He sniffles quietly, moving closer to Ilya, and rests his cheek on his shoulder. “Not an accident.”
Ilya blinks. He doesn’t quite understand, but he nods anyway. “Well. Is beautiful, like you.”
“I-“ Shane takes a little breath. “It was Hayden who found me. I didn’t- I didn’t answer him for a couple hours. He… he kicked my door open, broke the lock. Found me in the bathroom, just… bleeding out.”
Ilya wants to say a lot. Wants to ask a lot more. Instead, he lets go of his wrist, his hand landing on Shane’s thigh, and squeezes. “Ah. So Pike was crazy neighbour?”
Shane lets out a wet little laugh. “Wouldn’t have been good first date conversation, would it?”
Ilya leans over and kisses his head. Shane relaxes into his frame.
“Sometimes, I wish he’d never met me,” Shane admits quietly. Ilya squeezes his thigh again. “I just- I feel like all I do is worry him. Constantly. He and Jackie spent the first year of their marriage babysitting me because- because they thought I was gonna go home and try to- try to kill myself again. They want kids, but they’re so concerned with me that they don’t even have the time.”
Ilya thinks carefully of his words for a moment. “You- you are not a sacrifice.”
When Shane just blinks at him, Ilya’s worried he’s said the wrong thing, but Shane only smiles softly.
Ilya wants to tell him to never think of himself that way again, to never hate his life so much he tries to take it, to agree to live inside his ribs so he can never get hurt again. Instead, he adjusts his posture so he’s slumped a bit more, back aching in protest, and pulls Shane to rest on him more. He waits until his breathing evens out to whisper the words in his hair.
“Ya tebya lyublyu.”
-
“Is it really a sugar baby if he wasn’t fucking him for money?”
“Shut your trap, Hayden.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Hayden responds, but he’s grinning, and Shane really hates the way that he can just tell that Hayden is a little turned on by the fury in Jackie’s voice. Disgusting.
Jackie’s eyes slot from Ilya, to Shane, to Hayden, back to Shane. Her arms are crossed tightly in front of her chest, and she chews down on her bottom lip, as if she’s physically restraining herself from screaming at Shane.
“Maybe- maybe we should go,” Shane says, standing up. “You two need to talk, maybe?”
“Don’t you-“
“Shane,” Ilya interrupts Jackie, looking all too amused. Bastard. “Sit down. Let beautiful woman yell at you.”
Shane flops back down on the couch. Hayden knocks his knee against his in solidarity. Traitor.
“I wasn’t not gonna tell her, Shane,” Hayden defends himself. “She was gonna find the money eventually.”
Jackie holds a hand up, shutting him up instantly. She takes a deep, slow breath through her nose and closes her eyes. When she opens them, she’s giving Shane the fakest smile in the world.
“Shane, sweetheart. How long has this been going on?”
Shane looks at Ilya, who raises an eyebrow. This is all you. “Uh. Like- almost two months?”
“Two fucking months, and I don’t hear anything of it until there’s a $25,000 payment in my bank account?!” She yells, smile dropped. “Are you fucking daft?”
“I do not know that word,” Ilya stage-whispers to Shane. He pushes his face away.
“Jackie,” he starts, standing up. He takes her hands and squeezes them. “I’m sorry. I just- it’s unconventional, and I didn’t know how- how you’d react, and- and it was your husband who put me up to it.”
“Don’t fall for it, Jackie,” Hayden coaches. “Don’t look in his eyes.”
Shane tilts his head down, looking up at her through his lashes, and watches as she melts in real time. She pulls him into her arms and rubs his back.
“It’s okay, Shane. Hayden should have told me.”
“Yeah, Hayden. Should have told her,” Ilya says. Hayden reaches over and shoves him.
“And you’re happy?” Jackie says. Shane nods into her shoulder. “Okay. And you-“ she lets go of him, turning to Ilya with a gaze full of anger. “You’re treating him right? And this isn’t- this isn’t for money anymore? You’re not making him do anything he doesn’t want to do? Because Shane is a pushover, he’d do anything if it meant he could make some else happy, and if I find out you’ve taken advantage of that, I will… I will…”
“Kill me,” Ilya suggests. He stands as well, joining Shane, and rests a hand on his shoulder. “You have… what is word?”
“Consent,” Shane pipes in.
“Consent. To kill me. If I hurt him,” he offers. Jackie’s glare weakens slightly. “I wish I could have been here earlier.”
Jackie softens further. She nods, looking between the two of them, and lets out a little breath of relief.
“Okay. I can live with this,” she decides. She doesn’t even hesitate before reaching out and hugging Ilya, who flinches slightly but wraps his arms around her too. “Thank you. I- thank you.”
“Do not have to thank me for caring for him,” Ilya says. His voice is a little shaky.
“Well- sure. But I mean thank you for the money. You don’t know how much that will help us.”
“Yeah,” Hayden pipes in. He joins their little circle, his hand on Jackie’s back. “Especially, uh, since…”
Shane’s eyes widen. “Since…
The little grin on Hayden’s face is filled with a source of pure joy that Ilya has rarely seen before. His hand moves from Jackie’s back to rest on her stomach. She leans back against him and laughs wetly.
“Are you…?” Shane trails off. Jackie can only give him a nod before Shane’s practically launching himself at the two of them.
Ilya steps aside, letting them have their moment, and watches as Jackie’s hands come up to Shane’s cheeks, wiping his tears away. It looks rehearsed, well practiced, as if she’s done this many times before.
“How- how far along are you?” He asks, sniffling.
“Remember the wedding?” Hayden asks. “Let’s just say I got her drunk.”
“Jesus, Hayd…” Shane laughs, moving so he can hug him properly. Hayden hugs him like a koala, kissing him on the side of the head. “You’re gonna be such a good dad.”
“And you’re gonna be such a good uncle.”
Ilya jumps when Jackie’s hand comes to rest on his arm. He looks at her, then at the guys, then back at her. “Is good. Baby made when drunk. Makes them smart.”
She laughs, smacking his arm. “We’ll pay you back some day-“
“Ah. Stop,” he says. “If you need anything, you call me.”
Shane is still crying when they leave, two new contacts in Ilya’s phone and his heart aching a little. It’s not a bad pain, quite the opposite, and he lets Shane cry it out in the car, holding his hand as they make their way back to Ilya’s- their home.
“Do you want kids?” Shane asks, wiping his face, once they’re home. Ilya shrugs.
“Would be nice.”
Shane reaches up and kisses him gently.
-
December 25th.
Shane is barely awake when the bedroom door creaks open. Ilya walks in, towel low on his hips, and begins to dig through the closet.
“Mornin’,” Shane mumbles, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. Ilya turns to him and smiles.
“Good morning,” he pulls on a pair of sweatpants and physically launches himself on top of Shane in bed. “Merry Christmas.”
Shane blinks. Oh. That’s why his chest feels so heavy. He musters up a smile anyway and kisses Ilya on the side of his mouth. “Merry Christmas.”
Shane feels the metaphorical cloud follow him throughout the morning. He pops his anxiety medication in his mouth- courtesy of a phone call from Hayden where he told Ilya to get on him about the subject. He chokes through breakfast, hops in the shower, and phones Hayden and Jackie. He’s laying on the couch with Ilya, watching a movie, when he shakes his head.
“I’ve got to- uh, I gotta head out. For a bit.”
“Where do you have to go?” Ilya asks, pausing the movie. “Everything is closed.”
“I just-“ Shane exhales. “I have something I have to do.”
“I can come?”
Shane blinks. “Oh. Sure. Yeah- that… that would be nice.”
So, they get in Ilya’s car, and Shane mumbles out directions. They end up in front of the shelter, at the end of the bridge Shane was on just a month and a half ago, and Ilya’s gaze burns holes into the side of his head.
“What is this?” He asks, puffing his chest a bit more and pulling Shane closer to him when someone under the influence stumbles by. Shane rings the bell next to the door.
The door buzzes and unlocks. Shane steps in, Ilya following, both cautious for separate reasons. The woman behind the counter glances up at them.
“Who are you visiting?”
Shane clears his throat. “Uh. Mia.”
A wave of children enter, tugging and holding onto one person in the middle- Mia. She picks up one of the toddlers and hauls her onto her hip, grinning at Shane.
“Shane! How are you, man!”
“Good! I’m- I’m really good. How are you?”
The toddler on her hip reaches up and tugs on her ear. “Been better. Merry Christmas, dude. Why are you here?”
Shane reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope- all the money he got on his last cheque and vacation pay out. It’s a measly $1200, but he knows how much that could have changed his life, and he hands it over to Mia.
“Dude. What is this?”
“I just-“ he looks back at Ilya and then turns to her again. “You really saved my life that day. I don’t- I don’t know how to thank you, and I really want to, so- here.”
Mia puts the kid down and reaches out to hug Shane. “You don’t have to thank me. I know what it’s like.”
Ilya looks down as a tug is felt on his pant leg. The kid that Mia was holding stares up at him expectantly, her arms raised, and he looks around for permission before carefully reaching down, picking her up. She snuggles into Ilya’s chest immediately.
“Well, we’re just about to get started on lunch. Do you want to stay?” She asks. Shane looks at Ilya, his eyes softening at the sight, and raises an eyebrow at him.
“Would love to,” Ilya responds, laughing as the kid reaches up and grabs at his mouth.
Shane and Mia help set the table, serving the food and drinks, as Ilya is banished to the kids corner, being smothered by little girls who keep trying to braid his hair. He’s sitting criss-cross apple sauce on the floor, grinning as all the kids fuss over him.
“I’m sorry,” Mia says quietly. “We don’t get many visitors around here.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Shane says. “He’s good with them.”
The next time Shane looks over, Ilya is leaning back against the wall, two kids in his lap as he reads from a picture book. His accent keeps making them giggle.
“It’s princess, not plincess!”
“Ah, sorry, sorry. Puh-rinn-sess,” Ilya corrects, his accent dramatically thick, and the girls just burst out in laughter. Shane can’t help the grin on his face.
“You’re whipped, huh?” Mia teases. Shane rolls his eyes, but he can’t tear them away from Ilya. He pictures him with Hayden and Jackie’s unborn child, with their own kids one day.
After they eat, they head out, stopping to give hugs and promising to come back in the New Year. Shane feels lighter already.
“You ready to go home?” Ilya asks. Shane nods, eyes closing, and leans against the window.
Back at their place, Shane sits across from Ilya underneath the small Christmas tree in the living room, and sheepishly holds out a single wrapped item. Ilya raises his eyebrows.
“You got me present?”
“It’s Christmas, Ilya. Duh.”
Ilya chuckles, unwrapping the small item, and looks up at Shane in disbelief. It’s been years since he’s been given such a meaningful gift, and he can barely stop the tears in his eyes as he pulls the item out and holds it up:
The brown, leather wallet he took only two months ago.
“Is it too soon,” Ilya starts, running his thumb over the material. “If I say I love you?”
“Maybe,” Shane says quietly. He leans forward and presses his lips to Ilya’s. “Then it would be really too soon for me to say I love you more.”
It started with desperation, with panic, with a sense of loneliness and fear that Shane wouldn’t wish upon anyone. It started with a negative bank account, with a lifetime of debt, with two best friends who would spend any amount of money to make sure he stayed here- stayed okay. It started with a job that he hated, with a life he hated more-
It started with a wallet.