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Shane stared at the wedding band sitting abandoned on the dresser where Ilya had left it when he took it off his finger and said he couldn't do this anymore.
His Ilya, except apparently he was his no longer.
Despite it being a month ago now, the pain of it was still fresh like it had happened to him only 5 minutes ago instead. It didn't help that they still had to see each other in the locker room, every week being forced into each other's presence, standing shoulder to shoulder with yet an ocean between them. Maybe Shane should care how it affected the rest of the team, this awkward silence that had entered the space between Shane Hollander and Ilya Rozanov, but Shane couldn't bring himself to think about anything beyond his own pain.
He wasn't even sure if Ilya cared that Shane himself was hurting. Ilya was the one who had caused this after all. He was the one who had said he needed space, who had asked to separate despite promising forever in front of all their family and friends in their garden. Was it even their garden anymore? It was Ilya's house technically, and yet it was also Ilya who had moved out.
His teammates had noticed something was wrong immediately that first day they shared the locker room post-separation. It wasn't that things were frosty between them. There was no anger at all. In fact in this whole month without the love of his life, Shane couldn't seem to remember if he had felt any amount of anger at all. Instead he was shrouded with this all encompassing pain that made him feel like his heart had stopped working and like his lungs were constantly filling up with lead.
"Hey Shane... Look I'm sorry for asking, because I'm sure it's none of my business or any of the guys', but are things okay? Between you and Rozanov I mean," Troy had asked. Ilya had hurried out of the locker room as quick as possible after practice and Shane was going as slow as possible so he'd be the last to leave, except Troy had seemingly decided to have the same idea if only to corner Shane into speaking alone.
"We separated."
"What, are you serious? You guys broke up?" he replied shocked. Shane was so numb as he spoke the words out loud for the first time, finally accepting what had happened, even though he still didn't understand what the fuck had happened.
"Yeah."
"What the fuck. How is that even possible? You guys are... you guys are fucking Hollander-Rozanov."
"I don't know. He broke up with me." Shane wondered how insane he looked to Troy speaking back to him as monotone as he was, as if his whole world hadn't crumbled around him in flames.
"He broke up with you? He fucking loves you Shane. How is this even possible?"
Shane nodded. "He does love me. I don't think he loves himself right now though..." Shane's voice finally cracked and he took a seat at the bench, his head in his hands. He hadn't even told his mom or dad yet. God how was he ever going to tell them this. They loved Ilya like he was their own.
Troy awkwardly pat Shane's back, not really knowing what to do in this situation. "What happened?" It wasn't that Troy was being nosy, but the idea of Ilya breaking up with Shane was so unfathomable that he needed to hear how it could physically be possible.
Shane sighed not knowing how much to share. But the past 24 hours have been the loneliest of his life and he didn't know how to hold this all inside of him anymore. And Troy was a friend. They were both super gay and super bad at it. That's what Ilya always said...
"He's...he's been so bad lately. Like so bad Troy, you have no idea. He's hurting so much and the therapy isn't working and he's been getting so sad and then so angry and then he feels so guilty about lashing out and he just keeps on punishing himself. Then yesterday he just snapped. He took his ring off and left it on the dresser and said he couldn't do this anymore, that he was a grenade and his fuse was slowly burning out and if he didn't get away fast enough he was going to hurt me and if he hurt me there would be nothing else to live for..."
"Jesus. He said that? That last part, Shane fuck, that's bad."
Shane just nodded, his head no longer in his hands and instead staring up at the ceiling as he willed his eyes not to shed any tears. "He packed a bag and left. I don't know where he's staying and I'm scared about him being alone. But he won't let me talk to him. He's ignored all my calls and texts and you saw how he was today, he would barely acknowledge me and if he did it was only about hockey."
Troy nodded feeling just as scared for his friend. For both his friends.
"I'll talk to him," Troy said. "He's probably holed up in some hotel but I'll tell him to come live with me and Harris for the time being."
"He won't let you talk to him."
"Then I'll wait until after practice tomorrow and follow him to wherever he's living and refuse to leave until he comes back with me." At that moment Shane felt like an idiot wondering why he hadn't thought to do that himself.
"Fuck, why didn't I think of that?"
"It wouldn't work if you did it," Troy replied easily. "I mean, sorry, I don't mean that you couldn't get through to him it's just... I know a thing or two about hitting rock bottom. Seeing you, knowing how much he has hurt you, is only going to make things worse for him right now. I will keep an eye on him, until he's ready to come back to you, because he will. He will fucking come back to you Shane. I promise you, there's no world in which he doesn't come back to you."
_____
It's that promise that Shane has held onto this past month. The only thing that has helped him get out of bed despite the pit of depression he has fallen into himself. That and Anya.
She needed to be fed soon. Ilya was always the one who set out dinner for her, while Shane did breakfast, but lately Anya has had to adjust to only having Shane around. Shane knows she's been confused and it breaks his heart not knowing how to explain to her why her dad hasn't been home. He knows Ilya is her favourite and he doesn't blame her for it either because Ilya is Shane's favourite too.
Shane begrudgingly made himself get up and go downstairs to put out her food only to not find her waiting in the kitchen like she usually does. For a minute he panicked thinking maybe he had left the door open and she had abandoned him too, but even if he had, they lived in a gated house with bars and walls and bushes designed so she couldn't fit through. He quickly checked all of the doors that could lead her outside, only to find them all very much locked, so she must be in the house somewhere. Immediately Shane was filled with a sense of relief and he instead began his journey inspecting every room to find her, calling out her name as he did so.
When he did find her, he stopped in his tracks, his breath hitched. She was curled up on the couch in their games room, sat on the side that Ilya always took, curled up in an old hoodie of his that he must have thrown off at some point and never retrieved to put in the laundry. Shane hadn't entered this room since Ilya had left. It had been too painful, having to face the many memories they shared here together. They might not have been rivals on the ice anymore, but they always found ways to still compete against each other, gaming being one of them. The silence of this room had once been filled instead with laughter and swearing and eventually moans as the loser of whatever game they had just played received their reconciliation prize.
Shane sat down slowly next to Anya on the couch, trying not to startle the gentle girl who hadn't responded to Shane's numerous calls. He knew how much she missed him and didn't try to pry the material away from her, wondering how much of his scent was left on the item of clothing. Instead, Shane stroked her fur gently. "I miss him too," he whispered quietly. They stayed like that for a little while until Shane remembered she still had to eat and eventually coaxed her out of the room.
He sat watching her eat from the dining table, his own stomach rumbling. He wondered what Ilya had eaten today. He grimaced thinking about how much McDonalds the other man had probably consumed this month without Shane there to scold him for it. Ignoring his stomach, he left Anya to her food and instead retired to the living room where he collapsed on the giant sectional sofa and begged his body to succumb to sleep, if only to block the world out for a little while. Sleep had been so hard for him to find lately, but clearly the sleep deprivation had taken its toll and allowed his body to find it's rest at last, even if it would only be for a few short hours.
He dreamed as he slept. He dreamed of golden hair, a cross, and the smell of vodka, and knocking. Knocking?
He startled awake at the incessant knocking at the front door and the sound of the bell in quick succession. When he checked the time on his phone it was late, past midnight. Had he really slept for that long? He'd only been able to get 3-4 hours at a time for the past few weeks and wondered just how exhausted he had really been today.
He rushed to the door wondering who could be here at this time and only just stopped himself before unlatching the door. It could be anyone and it probably wasn't a good idea for Shane to open it without even having anything on hand to defend himself with. Just as he was about to ask who it was, he heard a pained voice say,"Shane, please," from the other side. He knew that voice. He knew it more than he knew his own.
He opened the door frantically to find Ilya, leaning against the door, his hand in the air like he was about to knock again. "Shane."
"Ilya..." He had seen him at practice earlier today, of course, but seeing him here as he was now was different. Ilya looked more pained than Shane had ever seen him.
Shane knows Troy eventually had been able to convince Ilya to go and live with him and Harris. Shane had been tempted on more than one occasion to just show up unannounced to try and talk to his husband, which legally he still very much was, but he was afraid that it would only prompt Ilya to move out and back into another hotel where Shane couldn't find him. Shane couldn't even begin to let that fear sink its way into his bones, the fear that he might get a call one day that a body had been found in some hotel room and that that body might be Ilya's. Ilya could not be left alone, so Shane had to stay away, if only it meant Ilya would continue to stay with Troy where he or Harris could keep an eye on him, keep him company, remind him that there were people who loved him. It just pained Shane that he couldn't be the one to fulfil those duties.
It was as the two men observed one another that Shane finally noticed the smell. He had been dreaming of it, the smell of vodka, so his brain took a moment to catch-up and process that Shane wasn't dreaming anymore, that the smell was real this time and wafting off the other man. Shane looked behind Ilya to find his car parked haphazardly in their driveway, and finally put two and two together.
"Ilya! You...you've been drinking. And driving," and suddenly Shane was filled with so much rage he might have punched the other man right then and there. "Is this a joke? After everything you have put me through this past month you show up here unannounced, drunk at midnight and having put your life and others in danger. Are you serious right now Rozanov?"
"There were no other people on the road," was all the other man had to say.
And despite how much he had wanted Ilya to come home, Shane slammed the door in his face.
"I am not that drunk," Shane heard Ilya say from the other side of the door. Shane was leaning his back against it trying to catch his breath. It wasn't just anger from this night that was consuming him, but the anger he had buried deep inside of him for the past 4 weeks. He had convinced himself he wasn't angry, that he wasn't allowed to be angry. That Ilya was just hurting and it wasn't him fault, but God was Shane angry. He was angry that Ilya had thrown aside their vows of forever, thrown aside the sacrifices they had both made just to be able to love one another freely, thrown aside Shane. And tonight, he was angry that Ilya had tried to throw aside his own life. Drinking and driving? Ilya had his reckless moments sure, but he had never been as reckless as that before. To not only endanger his own life but that of others... it was unforgivable. It didn't matter if there were no others on the road, Ilya had crossed a line.
"You are drunk enough that I can smell it on you even through the door," Shane replied exaggerating.
"I still have key. I can open door."
"Then why did you bother knocking?"
"Did not want to startle you."
"Fuck you."
Neither of them spoke for some time but neither of them moved away either - a piece of wood and glass the only barrier between them now.
"Drinking and driving, Ilya," Shane said at last. "How could you?"
"I swear, there were no others on road. I have been driving at this time for weeks now and there are never any other people."
"Were all the other times drunk too?" Shane spat.
"No! Only...only tonight."
"It doesn't matter if there isn't usually anyone else on the road. There could have been! There could have been someone else like you having a midnight drive and you could have killed yourself and them both. What's wrong with you?!"
"I DON'T KNOW SHANE!"
Shane's breath caught at Ilya's shouting. Ilya very rarely ever shouted at him.
"I don't know," he said again, his voice cracking. "I don't know what is wrong with me Shane. It just...it just hurts. All of it."
Shane's eyes teared up but he stayed quiet, allowing the man to speak. Or maybe he was just scared that if he spoke himself this rare moment of honesty would be lost between them.
"I...I was going to crash...on purpose. Into a wall or tree, I do not know." Shane's tears weren't unshed anymore and he had to shove his fist into his mouth to stop himself from crying out. "I have been trying for weeks, but I could not do it. Every time I get close but... Tonight was meant to be the night. I thought if I could have some drink then I could finally do it. I wanted to hurt myself so bad that it would stop all the hurt completely."
Shane slid down to the floor, his head between his knees as he tried to breathe, but with his eyes shut all he could see in the darkness were glimpses of a crashed car and fire and a burning body, and he was too afraid to find out if this was a premonition, or hallucination only.
"But then I thought of my mother. I thought how much it hurt to lose her. I thought how I could not have stranger tell you I was gone."
"So what?" Shane got out weakly. "Have you come to tell me goodbye yourself?"
"I have come to tell you I love you. And I think I don't really want to die. Blyat I am so tired."
Shane mustered what strength he had left to get back up and open the door. "Get inside," he said. He guided Ilya to the couch where Shane himself had just been lying and encouraged the man to lay down. Ilya did without much protest and shut his eyes. Soon he was breathing low enough that Shane was sure he had fallen asleep.
Shane thought about retiring back upstairs to his bed, but Ilya had tried to kill himself tonight, or at least he had intended to, and Shane was too worried that if he took his eyes of him for even a minute, he might never see the man again. When he thought about it, he realised just how many ways there were to kill oneself. It's not something Shane had ever really thought about before. I mean here were knives easily accessible in the kitchen not even a few steps away. And so, like a sentinel, Shane sat there with Ilya asleep in their living room and kept guard so that Ilya might breathe another day.
_____
Shane startled awake come morning. For a moment, he didn't quite register where he was until he felt the leg digging into his hip. He rolled his shoulder feeling the cramp brewing from having fallen asleep sitting upright, but he was reassured to find Ilya still fast asleep on the couch, more or less unmoving. He took this precious time to rush to the kitchen to make himself a coffee, and grab a glass of water for Ilya.
Ten minutes later, he was still nursing his hot drink when Ilya finally woke up.
He moaned rubbing his head and took in his surroundings as he finally registered where he was. "Góspodi."
"Head hurt?" Shane asked.
"A little."
"Good. Drink your water." Shane had spent the time awake so far trying to figure out how this next conversation with Ilya should go. They had a lot to talk about.
"Can I not have coffee too?"
"No. Coffee is dehydrating and you need to hydrate after drinking. So drink the fucking water. I put some electrolyte powder in it for you," Shane replied just staring ahead at the TV that wasn't even turned on. From his periphery, he saw Ilya take only a few sips before putting the glass back down. "All of it."
"Your weird powder makes it taste gross."
"I don't give a fuck. Finish the damn water." Shane did stare at Ilya now, hoping he was giving him his most frightening glare and not the typical angry kitten expression Ilya always claimed he had.
"We should talk about last night," Shane said when he watched the other man finally finish off the glass with a grimace. Shane knew that it tasted bad. It was a new flavour he had recently bought to see if it was any good, and he felt bad throwing it away upon realising the flavour was not to his taste, so he had left it there in his cupboard hoping he would find some further use for it. Maybe it was petty of Shane to give it to Ilya, but he felt that was the extent of his revenge for the abysmal month and horrendous night that Ilya had just put them through. Shane was already feeling guilty about it though and frowned into his half finished coffee, before handing the rest over to Ilya.
"I thought I wasn't allowed," Ilya said dryly ignoring what Shane had just said.
"Shut up." Shane took in the haggard look on the other man's face as he finished the coffee and put it down on a coaster. "About last night-"
"I'm sorry. I should not have come here. Should not have told you any of that."
"Will you shut. up."
"Shane-"
"Shut up! Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. Stop fucking apologising. Stop fucking trying to protect to me all the time. Can't you see it isn't helping either of us?! All you're doing is hurting me Ilya," Shane said pained all the way through to the marrow in his bones. "You're hurting me. You're hurting me and you need to stop. Now."
Ilya looked just as pained and stood up. "I'm sorry. I'll leave"
Shane grabbed his hand immediately and pulled him back down to sit beside him.
"That's the problem! You keep leaving me. You keep putting this distance between us. That is what's hurting me Ilya. You are... you're..." Shane leaned over, head in his hands. "You're trying so hard to protect me all the time, and I know that's what all of this is, you think you're protecting me, but you're not. You're not fucking protecting me by pushing me away because you're afraid. You are hurting me. I swear to God Ilya if you walk out on me again I-" Shane sat up determined now. "You are not leaving this fucking house until we fix this. Until we fix us. Until we figure out what to do about your stupid brain that I love so much but doesn't seem to love you back."
"Shane," Ilya said looking dejected and unable to catch his eye. "I am not- I am a parasite. A leach."
"As if I would not give my life blood for you."
"You should not have to," Ilya whispered, fear and yet what Shane could only pray was hope in his eyes.
"Do you think someone is forcing me? Do you think I cannot make these decisions for myself? Do you think you are so above me that you have to make these decisions for me?"
"I have never thought I am above you, Shane."
"But you do. Every time you make a decision for me, that I haven't consented to you making, you are putting yourself above me. I am not a child and I do not need your permission to love you. And I do not love you just because of some chemicals that will magically disappear if you disappear. I choose to love you. I wake up every morning and I choose you. I chose you when pretending to love a woman would have been so much easier. I chose you when fucking Crowell and every other bigot in the league told me not to. I choose you Ilya, I will always choose you. But every time you push me away you are saying you don't choose me back."
"I- fuck Shane. I love you."
"Then choose me back!"
Ilya lunged at him then, tackling Shane to the couch, his lips searing and rough against Shane's own, like he was afraid of what would happen if they pulled apart. Shane should have stopped it right away, because this wasn't what they needed right now, but just for a few seconds longer he allowed himself to enjoy his husband's lips after such a long drought. But when Ilya's hand travelled lower to brush against Shane's member hidden away in his pants, Shane pushed him back parting their lips and forcing both men to sit upright again.
"Shane-"
"No no, I want this but...we can't have sex and talk later. Not this time."
Ilya crossed his arms and sat back, his head resting atop the back of the couch staring straight up at the ceiling. "I don't know what to say."
"Just be honest. Stop keeping it all inside. Talk to me."
After a moment of silence, "You deserve better than me."
"You don't get to decide that for me," Shane said reiterating his earlier sentiment.
"I...do not deserve you, then" Ilya said, his words whispered and broken. Defeated.
That, Shane knew, was honest. Not honest in that it was true, but honest in that that was what Ilya truly believed to his core. Usually, Shane would take revelations like this to heart and wonder what he could do to make things better. Maybe he could say I love you more, or do more things for Ilya, or not get so mad about him leaving his socks on the floor. In fact this past month, he would have given anything to have Ilya's socks to pick up after. But Shane realised that this moment, this thought, really isn't about Shane and his shortcomings. This is about Ilya. Shane could walk around with a megaphone announcing his love for Ilya every time he walked into a room, and Ilya would still be plagued with doubts.
For a moment, Shane's rage returns except this time it's directed at Ilya's mother. Perhaps if the one person in Ilya's childhood who had truly loved him hadn't abandoned him, he wouldn't be so insecure as he is now. He was a 12 year old boy who learnt that yes his mother loved him but not enough to want to stay.
It was an unfair thought and an unfair judgment to put onto a woman who had been in so much pain, but Shane hated to see that same pain reflected back in the man he loved.
Shane pushed himself forward, climbing into Ilya's lap, straddling his thighs and grabbing his face in his hands so they could finally look at each other eye to eye.
"Baby," Shane said as softly and tenderly as he could. "I think maybe neither of us gets to decide these things. But we do get some say in how much time we have together. We wasted so much of it in our twenties already, must we really keep wasting more." Ilya's eyes filled up with tears.
"I hate that all I do is hurt you, even when I am trying not to."
Shane felt his own eyes tear up but he didn't try to stop the tears from falling as Ilya couldn't either with his own. Maybe they needed to just feel these things with each other for a change, rather than alone because they were trying to shield the other.
"I know you think you are a God on the ice, but try to remember that you're human like the rest of us once in a while," Shane said with a weak smile as he wiped away Ilya's tears with his thumbs. "I think I hurt you too sometimes without meaning to. But the worst thing we can do to one another is not fight to keep what we have. This thing between us is precious and true and wonderful and we can't run away from each other just because things get hard."
"I am sorry for running."
Shane shook his head and leant forward to place a gentle kiss on Ilya's lips. It was wet from his own tears and lasted only a moment.
"You came back," Shane said when they parted. "Fuck I almost lost you for good last night and instead you came home. Do you know how much it means to me that you chose me in that moment? It must have been so scary."
Ilya's face crumpled completely and he leant forward to hide his face in Shane's chest as Shane rocked them. For a moment Shane felt himself thrown back in time to a quiet night in Tampa when he had done something similar the first time he had seen Ilya cry. God they were so young then and so afraid. It was before Scott Hunter had redefined their small world and made them believe they could have anything more than stolen moments in hotel rooms and whispered confessions they would never be able to take back.
And yet here they were now. In their home that they shared as husbands, playing on the same team, no longer a secret. Still hurting yes, but no longer hurting in the dark.
Shane held Ilya for some time, just allowing the other man to finally realise he was home again and that Shane wasn't letting him go anywhere.
"You understand this means we're back together now, right?" Shane said when neither of them were crying anymore and instead just holding onto one another.
"Well, if you say so."
"I do say so."
Ilya tucked himself deeper into Shane's embrace, if that was even possible. "Good."
"Maybe I'm the parasite," Shane tried to joke.
"No. You are flower blooming in my heart even when there is only storm."
Shane's breath caught. Neither of them were the most romantic with their words - they hadn't even written their own vows - so every time Ilya said these quiet romantic declarations of love, it made Shane feel like his heart was about to come out of his mouth.
Shane kissed the top of Ilya's head and held him tighter. Both men trying desperately to get closer to one another even when any closer was not possible.
"God dammit, I'd only just stopped crying," Shane said pathetically.
"Did I say something bad?" Ilya asked finally pulling back to look up at his husband.
Shane shook his head. "No, you said something wonderful. Thank you."
"I think you would be peony, if you were flower," Ilya said. Shane smiled at his husband's weird sentiments.
"Really, why?"
"They are very stubborn, did you know?" Ilya said wryly.
Shane scoffed. "Since when do you know so much about flowers?"
"Living with Troy is very boring."
"So you, what? Decided to take up gardening?"
"I thought about bringing you flowers to apologise last week. I thought they should be the right ones if I did." Ilya was killing Shane today. They had never gotten each other flowers before and for a moment Shane wondered what their life would have been like if they had dated like everyone else. What would it have been like to have Ilya turn up at his door one night with a bouquet of flowers before a date?
"Then why didn't you? Bring me flowers I mean."
"Did not think it would be enough to apologise properly. Got scared. Am still scared..."
"Tell me what you're most afraid of," Shane said softly.
"My brain. It does not work properly. The therapy is not working and the pills scare me. I don't know what to do. I am afraid I will hurt you like my mother hurt me."
Shane took a moment to think, overcome again with the realisation that Ilya had tried to kill himself last night. A part of him felt numb to it but he knew once his body truly caught up to the notion, he would break apart. But he wouldn't run or hide when that happened. Shane and Ilya were a team. He would stay strong now for Ilya and then later Ilya would stay strong for him, and they would navigate this all together.
"Okay listen, we can try other types of therapy. This isn't just the only one. I've been researching it while you've been gone. You know there's this type of therapy called DBT, it like teaches you to help regulate your emotions. Then there's this thing called EMDR. It uses like tapping to help recover from trauma," Shane explained.
"Tapping?"
"Yeah, apparently it's really effective."
"You think tapping will help me?"
"I think, we will try everything we possibly can and if science and tapping can't fucking help then we will try fucking hypnotism or aromatic salts. I don't care how ridiculous anything sounds if it has the possibility of making you feel even a little better," Shane said exasperated.
Ilya snorted. "Hypnotism?"
"Shut up, I don't know. I'm just saying."
"Hmm, so while I was crying and looking up flowers, you were researching therapies?"
"Well, I already know what flower you would be. Lily." Shane said it reverently.
Ilya smiled slowly. "Jane."
"So..." Shane began ignoring the flashbacks to their youth. "We'll look at alternative therapies? We're a team so we're gonna figure all of this out together okay." Ilya looked a little pained and like he wanted to say something but was afraid. "What?'
"Are we...a team?" Ilya asked nervously.
"Of course. That's what I've been saying."
"But...you will not go to therapy, even though we are team."
Shane's immediate thought was to get up and run away from this conversation which would have made him a hypocrite considering everything he had just said. "What do I have to go to therapy for?" Shane didn't mean for it to come out quite as accusatory as it did but it would be a lie to act like Shane did not face his own troubles.
"You are not good about food," Ilya said in one breath. "Especially when anxious."
"I'm better."
"Not always."
Shane was ready to argue but then thought about how he had skipped dinner the night before. He could argue he was just too tired and didn't have the energy to cook, but he knew deep down that would be a lie. How could he ask so much of Ilya, beg him to face his problems, if he wasn't willing to face his own. Maybe it was time he stopped pretending like everything was fine with himself. He could not let Ilya bear all the hardships of this relationship alone when he knew he contributed just as much in his own ways.
"Then, I'll go to therapy too."
"Will you?" Ilya asked hopeful.
Shane nodded. A part of him was already trying to concoct a way he might be able to back out of this at a later date, but he knew he would follow through with his word. This time he wouldn't run either.
_____
What followed later that day were the two men trying to find their rhythm again. They both showered, separately, and Ilya made them both breakfast of which Shane finished off his whole plate succumbing to his hunger from the night before. They sat around. They talked. They researched therapies and took Anya for a walk. Anya was thrilled to be with both her dads again and had spent most of her day refusing to leave Ilya's side once she finally realised he was home. They sat around, holding one another, relishing the ability to touch again. They were finally reunited and whole.
They ate lunch and later dinner, though Shane couldn't quite finish his plates this time, and then they retired to bed early. Tomorrow would be a fresh start. A proper one.
Shane laid on Ilya's bare chest listening to his heartbeat reassuring himself that Ilya was very much alive and well. Or maybe not well, not entirely, but he would be. He had to be. They were going to figure this out together. Shane grabbed Ilya's hand, relieved to see the wedding band back on. He had put it back on Ilya himself.
"Last night..." Shane began, not knowing what he wanted to say or how to say it.
"It was a mistake," Ilya replied instantly.
"If I ever catch you drink driving again-"
"I know. It was so stupid. Dangerous."
"Would have been a horrible way to die too. I mean there's no guarantee it would have been instant. What if...what if you'd..." Shane closed his eyes and saw fire again. Burning.
"Moy lyubímyy. I am sorry for scaring you. I am okay right now."
Right now.
So what about tomorrow or the day after that.
No. They had a plan. They were a team. They were going to figure it all out together and take each day one at a time. Shane was going to find his own therapist and maybe not just for his eating but maybe also for his anxiety and all the pressure he feels all the time and how he never feels like he understands the world quite the same way others do. Maybe he could also talk about Ilya, about how much he loves him but is scared for him too.
"I am not sure I am right now," Shane admitted.
"What can I do to help?" Ilya asked his hand rubbing soothing circles on Shane's bare hip. They were both in only their underwear as they often were in bed.
"Well...we did the talking part so maybe we can do the sex part now?" Shane asked lifting his head up to look at his husband. "I just want to feel close to you. Feel that you're really here."
Ilya didn't have any further comment and simply rolled them over so Shane laid on his back as Ilya kissed him. The kiss was gentle at first and then slowly grew in passion. Often their kisses were hungry, like they were trying to devour each other, but this kind of passion was different. Instead of trying to take, it was more like the both of them were trying to push into each other and give. Ilya was trying desperately to show Shane that he was here, home at last, and never leaving again. Shane trying desperately to convey that he would always fight for their love, that he would never give up on Ilya, that his life was worth living and Shane would do everything in his power to make him happy.
Ilya was quick to get both their underwear off and then trailed kisses along Shane's thigh, again so different from their usual pace. Shane felt like Ilya was worshipping him tonight, his body, his taste.
"My Shane, you are so beautiful," Ilya said looking up at him from between his legs before sinking his mouth down on Shane's cock. Shane moaned, his heart hammering from both the endearment and the feel of his husband's mouth back on him again. Shane hadn't even touched himself in the time Ilya had been away from home. It hadn't felt right. He did not want pleasure from anyone but Ilya, not even from his own hands.
Shane reached over to the nightstand and quickly brought out a bottle of lube and tossed it down the bed. Ilya had been watching him as he worked away at Shane's cock, still bobbing his head and occasionally stopping to run a tongue along Shane's slit where he was already leaking precum. "Always so wet for me moy lyubímyy."
"Please," Shane whined.
"Tell me."
"Need you. I need you Ilya. Please, need you inside."
Ilya grabbed the lube and slicked up his fingers before bringing one to Shane's hole and prying inside. "Fuck Shane. So tight."
"Well it's been a while. Whose fault is that?" Shane said glaring down at the other man. At least Ilya had the decency to look a little ashamed.
"You did not use any of your toys? You have so many now."
"Only because you keep buying them for me," Shane said gasping as he felt a second finger go inside. God he really was tight. He couldn't remember two fingers alone causing that burning, stretching sensation in a long time. It felt nice though, made him feel alive.
Shane grabbed a handful of Ilya's hair and pushed his head back onto Shane's desperate cock. Ilya was quick to oblige letting his spit coat Shane's cock into a sloppy mess as he took him deep and added a third finger to his hole at last. Shane was overwhelmed by Ilya's touch and yet knew it wasn't enough. He needed more. He needed Ilya properly.
"Please," Shane whined again.
"You are ready for me?" Ilya asked after pulling his mouth away from Shane's now glistening, wet cock.
"Fuck, yes. C'mon."
Ilya smiled, probably enthralled by Shane's always desperate need for him. Shane had lost his shame about that a long time ago.
He watched Ilya pump his own cock with his hand a few times before slotting himself between Shane's legs and rubbing his tip against his hole, teasing him. Before Shane could complain, Ilya was already pushing himself inside, slowly.
"Do not want to hurt you, if it has been some time," Ilya admitted which Shane thought was odd considering Shane had made it clear a while ago that he didn't mind when it hurt a little. But maybe this was more for Ilya than it really was for Shane, so he didn't comment and allowed his husband to take things at his own pace.
"Did you touch yourself while we were apart?" Shane asked as Ilya bottomed out, his whole length inside Shane making them feel fully connected at last. Both men felt relieved for it.
"Yes, a few times. But I could not cum without looking at the pictures and videos I have of you in my hidden folder." Shane felt at least a little smug about that. Considering what a manwhore Ilya had once been, it was no small feat that Shane was the only person that could make Ilya cum now. "Now I have real thing."
"Show me how much you missed me?" Shane asked. He had meant to say it as an instruction but his insecurity took over at the last minute.
Ilya started moving. Slowly at first, kissing Shane deeply as he did so, Shane's hands were already working scratches into Ilya back as he held on for dear life desperate not to let Ilya go. It would sting in the morning and Shane would probably feel a little bad, but in this moment he couldn't bring himself to care. He just wanted to mould himself into Ilya's skin, to leave him marks of his claim. Ilya seemed to feel the same way as he worked a hickey into Shane's neck. He couldn't wait to see it in the morning.
"Make it a big one," Shane begged and Ilya obliged. Satisfied it would be big enough, he pulled back to look into Shane's eyes as he gripped his hips tighter and started slamming their bodies together, angling his own hips until they found the right spot so he could watch Shane's eyes roll back.
Shane missed this, so much, the feel of his husband staking claim to his body.
"Ilya," Shane moaned as his back arched with his release, prompting Ilya to find his own orgasm, staking another claim deep inside of Shane's body.
Ilya collapsed on top of Shane, and they stayed like that for a while, holding onto one another. When Ilya went to finally pull out Shane panicked and shouted, "No!" He locked his legs around Ilya's waist and asked him quietly to stay like this for some time longer. He did not care how uncomfortable the position was or how dirty he felt, with cum on his stomach and drying inside of him as well.
Ilya was home. And though neither party could say their troubles were all over, they were happy in that moment. And no matter how hard things would get again, they would always find their way back to one another.