Chapter Text
The text came just half an hour before the date.
Ilya was trying to get a stain out of his best shirt in the kitchen, mumbling to himself as nothing seemed to work. He didn't even remember how this offensive, red splash got onto the sleeve, and when he asked Raisa, she just smiled at him widely, giggling as she ran away to the living room, her blonde ponytails bouncing on her head. Whether it was food, dye, or something of even more suspicious origin, it was not coming off. He sighed deeply and checked his phone, frowning at the notifications. A few simple words made him call Lucy immediately.
"What do you mean you can't come?" He asked, giving up on the shirt altogether. "I have to leave in twenty minutes!"
"I know, I'm so sorry." Lucy sounded genuinely upset. "My mom twisted her ankle, I have to take her to the hospital. I really can't look after Raisa today. I'm sorry."
Ilya closed his eyes, defeated yet again by the circumstances he could not control.
"Can't your dad take her?" He asked weakly, already knowing the answer.
"He can't leave work now. I'm very sorry, Ilya, I didn't plan this."
Well, neither did he.
He hummed a quiet goodbye, claiming he understood, because he did, of course he did. It was an emergency. Still, he had planned this for so long, he hoped there wouldn't be one.
Two weeks. Between his two jobs, Raisa's daycare and playgroup, and this guy's schedule, he managed to book Lucy for one evening, one fucking evening, just a few hours, and her mother decided to ruin this for him. He knew Lucy had to help out at home, he knew she was in college, she had her own life, but it was impossible to find a good, cheap nanny in this area, and Raisa liked her a lot, he had to compromise.
He put the ruined shirt into the washing machine, rubbing his exhausted eyes. Raisa, unaware of what was going on, kept on playing on the carpet, smashing her little cars together.
He let out a long, weak groan, and she looked up, concerned.
"Papa?"
"It's okay, papa's okay." He said to her in Russian, crouching to pat her small head, full of golden locks. "Keep playing with your trucks."
He hung his head low, trying not to scream out of frustration.
Another text came through. His Grindr notification echoed in the small space of their studio apartment. He sat on the couch to read it, biting on his lower lip.
hockeyboy24
➥I'm on my way to the restaurant :)
➥I'll grab our table when I'm there.
Ilya put the phone against his forehead, exhaling.
Two weeks.
He got so excited for nothing.
He had to cancel dates all the time, it wasn't anything new. Ever since he had Raisa, his dating life had reduced to casual, spontaneous hook-ups he met via the app. If he had a free evening or just a few hours to himself, he started swiping through the endless profiles and usually managed to secure a decent fuck within ten minutes.
This was different.
He spent the last two weeks actually talking to this guy. At first, simply because their schedules wouldn't allow a meeting soon enough. Then, he realised he's been checking his phone in hopes a text would appear, and that usually meant he was already fucked.
The man's name was Shane, as he learned quickly, and Ilya had no idea how the hell he ended up on Grindr of all places.
His profile was painfully modest in comparison to everything else Ilya has seen. A few shy selfies, a picture of him on the ice rink, one with a book covering half of his pretty face. A single photo of him at the gym, in a tight tank top and black shorts, nowhere near as suggestive or provocative as the endless shirtless thirst traps floating around on the app.
Ilya thought he might be a bit more private, just that. He texted him a few times, smiling when Shane clearly didn't understand he was being flirted with. Talked to him during the morning rush, during his work breaks, and in the evening, after he put Raisa to bed and moved around the flat quietly, spending the very little time that he had to himself asking a man he's never met about his college studies. Shane didn't even send dick pics, for fuck's sake. It was endearing. Even if he was looking for something serious, as he claimed, it was Grindr. Two weeks of texting without meeting to fuck, or exchanging nudes, was basically an equivalent of waiting until marriage. Naturally, Ilya was quite fascinated.
He liked talking to this man. He liked his dry humour and polite, stiff wording of his sentences, and he was supposed to have dinner with him tonight, finally, if Lucy's mother didn't sabotage him.
He swallowed hard, typing.
daddylongdick81
➥can we reschedule? i had something come up im sorry
He bit on his fingernail, watching the chat. Raisa created a true catastrophe on their carpet, seven different cars crashed into one another, and she was currently looking for the fire truck in her plastic toy box, narrating the horror scene with her sweet voice.
hockeyboy24
➥Oh??
➥I thought today was good for you?
➥Um
➥Okay, it's fine, we can cancel
No, no, it wasn't fine. It wasn't fucking fine.
Ilya hasn't been on a proper date in almost five years. He loved Raisa to death, he'd never change a thing, but God, he was tired sometimes. He was twenty-two, trying to get his car mechanic licence in the shop down the street, and scraping together grocery money from his part-time job at the warehouse. He was on his feet all day, surrounded by noise and complaints, spending his brief moments of freedom on trying to unstain his clothes and tidying up the apartment. He wanted dinner. A proper dinner at a restaurant, he wanted to dress up a little bit, meet someone nice, even if his hopes were hanging by a thread and he was maybe three people away from calling it quits and staying single forever. Everyone ran away the second they learnt he had a daughter. He hoped that maybe he could charm Shane enough tonight to at least get a few cool dates with him before he broke the news and had to listen to yet another monologue about how things were going really well, but he's not ready for something like this, and, frankly, Ilya should have introduced himself with that fact all along. Who in their early twenties would want to go out with him if they knew he couldn't even go to a club on a Friday night? Reruns of Masha i Medved were playing on Friday. He had the entire cartoon memorised by now, but Raisa always asked him so nicely, putting her hands together and pouting, the little devil, and he could never really say no to her. Not when he was blessed with the kindest, smartest, well-behaved girl on Earth. The fact that she had him wrapped around her little finger was his fault, not hers.
He typed, bouncing his leg on the ground.
daddylongdick81
➥no not cancel i want a date just not tonight sorry
hockeyboy24
➥It's fine. I mean, you're nice enough to at least let me know you're no longer interested without ghosting me.
Ilya grimaced at the words. Shane seemed to be used to it. He once said, during the many texts they exchanged, that he had yet to go on more than one date with anyone he met on the app. People looked for quick sex, not life stories. He didn't seem to pity himself about it, it was just how things were these days. If anything, Ilya suspected Shane might blame himself for simply not fitting into that new reality. For wanting something real.
He glanced at Raisa, trying one last time and dialing Svetlana's number. She answered quickly.
"What is it? I'm at work."
He knew that. He needed to know many people's schedules to fit within them.
"Lucy can't babysit." He breathed. "Can you leave early? Please. I really want to meet this guy."
There was a ruffle on the other side, and a door closing. Svetlana moved to a quieter place.
"Is this the hockey guy?"
"The college guy who plays hockey sometimes, yes. Shane."
"Oh, crap."
"Yeah, I know. Can you save me? Please, I'll owe you so much."
Svetlana sighed, and he already knew the fight was over.
"Ilyushka, I'd love to, you know that. I love Raisa. But I can't leave now, not until eight or nine, we have important clients today. I'm sorry."
He cursed under his nose, wiping his face.
"What am I supposed to do?" He sounded strained and had to put a reassuring smile on his face as Raisa looked up at him, worried. He waved at her. "It's okay, sweetie, play with your cars."
Svetlana stayed quiet for a second.
"Maybe you could bring her with you?" She offered, and Ilya laughed sadly.
"To a date? Are you serious?"
"Well, what other options do you have? He's bound to find out sooner or later. You can't leave her alone."
He checked the time on his watch, trying to convince himself he won't make it in time anyway. But he would. He still had a moment to finish getting ready. The restaurant wasn't far.
"I'll think about it."
"Good. I have to go now, but please, try. You said he was really nice."
A lot of men seemed nice on paper. And then they either had a problem with Ilya being bisexual, or having a kid, or both. He wasn't sure how many more rejections he could handle.
He said goodbye to Svetlana and stood up, texting Shane.
daddylongdick81
➥okay i'll come but
➥i wont be alone
➥i will come with someone
He managed to find himself a decent shirt, even if it was a bit wrinkled, and put it on. He fixed his hair while gathering Raisa's things into their bag. The bag that had multiple Hello Kitty stickers all over it.
hockeyboy24
➥What?
➥I thought I was very clear when I said I'm not interested in threesomes or anything like that. I'm looking for something serious.
daddylongdick81
➥no no it is ABSOLUTELY nothing like that i swear
➥i will explain when we get there
➥please just give me a chance
He hid his phone and clapped his hands.
"Rai, come on, you're going out with dad." He grabbed her thin coat, crouching to help her put it on. Raisa ran to him, leaving her cars stranded.
"Lucy?" She asked, tilting her head like a confused little fawn.
"Lucy can't play with you today. You're gonna go get some food with dad, okay?" He put her coat on her, fixing it over her pink overalls and yellow sweater. She stood still, allowing him to zip it up. "But you have to be really nice, alright? We're meeting dad's friend, and I want you to be polite. Will you be nice, sweetheart?"
She nodded, swaying on her feet.
"Can I have ice cream?"
"Maybe later." He picked her up with a tiny groan. At three, she has become quite big and quite heavy. She had his hair and eyes, he would be surprised if she didn't inherit his height as well in the future. Her face was still almost a carbon copy of her mother's. Same cheekbones, same chin.
He grabbed the bag and jogged down the stairs to their old, scrappy car, putting her in her seat and fastening the seatbelt. Raisa sang along to the songs on the radio as he drove through the city, checking how he looked way too many times in the rearview mirror.
Please be there, please be there, don't run away yet.
He parked and threw their essentials bag over his shoulder, grabbing Raisa's tiny hand in his as they walked through the glass door of the restaurant. It was a fancy one. Shane chose it. He claimed he was here often with his parents.
"How may I help you, sir?" A waiter stopped him, glancing them both up and down. Ilya was out of breath.
"Someone's waiting for me, we had a reservation? For, uh…" He stuttered, realising he didn't even know this man's surname yet. "Shane, something."
"Ah, Shane Hollander, our regular, yes. He's waiting in the back, over there."
Ilya lifted his head to look, blinking under the dim lights.
He's seen a few pictures of Shane by now, but dear God.
He almost tripped, guiding Raisa behind him as he walked through the restaurant with a dry mouth.
Shane fixed the collar of his blue shirt, trying not to play with the salt and pepper displayed on the table for two. He's been nervous all morning, and now, he was on the edge of breaking.
He doesn't meet nice men. Ever. It just doesn't happen.
He tried the usual meet-through-friends thing with a few of Jackie's colleagues, but they were all either dull or ugly. Everyone he ever talked with on Grindr demanded pictures or sent them without him asking, and well, even if occasionally he could appreciate a nice view, the fallback of losing contact altogether after saying he'd like to date was too harsh for him to survive another pointless relationship like that. Interactions that gave him nothing and left him feeling empty, sometimes used, sometimes simply disgusted. Hayden claimed he needed to get out there and use his youth while he still can, but he couldn't be bothered anymore. Between college, hockey, helping out his parents, researching programs for the future, and trying to manage his share of the family's fortune, he wanted something stable. Real.
When he matched with Ilya, to his great surprise, he thought it could be a start of that.
The man was gorgeous in every sense of the word. Tall, handsome, fit, with big, strong hands and pale blue eyes that made Shane lose his breath when he first saw them on his phone. And he was funny, charismatic, very straightforward, which usually helped a lot in Shane's case. He seemed to be…normal. A normal, cool guy. It was insane how rare that has become.
Sure, he was Russian, sure, his schedule was weird and twisty, but Shane was willing to take one last chance at online dating. He wouldn't forgive himself if he didn't. And then the guy wanted to reschedule.
Reschedule, right, he's heard that before. Let's meet another day! That means, never. It was cool, though. Thanks for your time.
He almost started crying on his way here, in the cab, decided he might as well eat something before he heads home, and then Ilya wanted to bring someone. Shane's head was spinning by now. He's never been more confused by the signals he's been receiving.
If Ilya brings another guy so they can fuck Shane together, this restaurant will witness one particularly ugly discussion.
But there was no one with Ilya. No other tall, big, horny man that wanted a piece, Ilya stood by the table with flushed cheeks and a…bag, for reasons Shane couldn't imagine, speechless for a moment.
Shane straightened up in his seat, putting his hands on his lap.
"Uh, hi." He said weakly, looking beyond Ilya's shoulder. "You said you would…"
He could only blame the sheer shock of seeing this beautiful man in reality for how long it took him to look down at the tiny hands clutching to Ilya's leg.
A small girl, a toddler, hid behind Ilya, looking at Shane with both cautiousness and curiosity, her golden hair put up in two pigtails. Ilya was so massive that she almost managed to disappear behind his thigh.
"Hey." Ilya spoke, putting one hand on the girl's head to assure her she was safe. His accent was heavy and rough, and Shane almost blushed at the simple word. Ilya lifted his hand at the waitress who passed them. "Can I get a chair for her? Thank you."
He put the bag on the floor, clearing his throat. Shane stared at them both.
"What is…going on?"
"I'm very sorry, I couldn't leave her. My nanny had an emergency." Ilya sat down opposite Shane, taking his jacket off, and oh, wow, yeah, that was…that was. His chest. His…clothed, obviously, chest, but Shane had to remind himself to close his mouth. "I really wanted to meet you, and…I couldn't…no other option."
Shane glanced at the little girl as Ilya picked her up from the ground and put her in his lap.
"And that is…"
"My daughter, Raisa." Ilya took her cute coat off and smiled softly as the girl turned in his lap to hide her face in his chest. He murmured something in Russian.
Daughter.
Shane continued staring at them until the waitress brought the baby chair, and Ilya put the girl in it, fixing the straps. Raisa swung her legs, looking around.
"I didn't want to surprise you like this." Ilya managed a soft chuckle, nervous, finally settling into his place. He gave Raisa his hand, and she grabbed his index finger with a quiet laugh. She found something truly amusing. "Sorry, she…she thinks it's funny when I speak English."
He was fucked.
This man in front of him, this Shane Hollander, was the most beautiful person he's ever seen, even more so in real life than in pictures, and Ilya had no idea how that was possible. He had a face full of freckles, captivating brown eyes, and his black hair flowed alongside his temples, styled carefully. His arms filled out his shirt in a way that made Ilya's eyes constantly fall down onto them.
Raisa still giggled, playing with his hand as they got their menus. Shane's initial shock seemed to wear off as he put on a more polite expression.
"I bet she speaks Russian only, then?" He asked, and Ilya blinked. "Your, uh…I'm sorry, could you repeat her name? No, wait."
Shane put the menu down, looking at the little girl. He offered her his hand, pointing to his chest with the other one.
"I'm Shane." He introduced himself seriously. "Shane."
Raisa shook his hand with an intrigued smile.
"I am Raisa." She said in the sweetest accent, struggling to push the words out, clearly unused to speaking in the language. Shane nodded. His eyes sparkled softly as he lowered his shoulders, appearing less big, less intimidating.
"It's really nice to meet you, Raisa."
Ilya realized he's been staring only after Shane caught him. He cleared his throat, freeing his hand from Raisa's grip.
"She speaks a bit of English at daycare. I'm trying to raise her bilingually." He explained, rubbing his neck. Fuck. Stop rambling. "Is it okay that she's here?"
Shane nodded, opening the menu with truly endearing calmness.
"Of course, but…I don't think this is the right place for her."
"Oh. Yes, uh…" Ilya felt his stomach drop. "I know I should have found someone to take care of her, but the daycare is closed already, and…"
"I mean the food." Shane tapped the menu. "There's not a lot of child-friendly options. The kid menu is maybe five positions long."
Oh.
Ilya hasn't thought about that at all. He was still surprised Shane hadn't left already.
"She ate at home, I'll just…get her some fries." He quickly realised how that sounded. "I don't normally feed her junk food, of course, just today."
"The fries here are way too salty for a child, but the nuggets are okay." Shane looked through the page, to Ilya's utter demise, stuck on the kid menu. "Oh, and the chicken soup is nice, if she likes that."
Ilya nodded, letting out a tiny sigh. He leaned to Raisa, switching to Russian.
"Do you want bul’yon?" He asked, and smiled as she nodded. "Okay, dad will order you. Be nice, alright?"
She showed him his tongue at that, and he couldn't help but giggle. Shane looked between them with a fond look.
"How old is she?"
"Uh, three and a half." Ilya scammed through the options, pressing his lips together. "If you want to know about her mother…"
"I'm not…asking, if that's what you mean. You don't have to tell me." Shane hummed. "If you don't want to, that is."
Fuck. Ilya was not prepared for this.
He barely ever got to spit the I have a kid out before his previous dates packed their bags and left. Now, he had to start with the information. He had no time to ease Shane into this.
Shane seemed quite content in his seat, though, so maybe that was a good sign.
"She doesn't want to be in our lives. That's that." Ilya explained shortly. "She didn't want Raisa."
"Oh. Do you have full custody?"
Whose brain goes straight to that?
"Yes."
"That's good. I mean, since you're her primary caregiver." Shane gestured with his hand a little bit. "What are you taking?"
Ilya flipped through the pages.
"I can't decide. I never get to eat at nice places like this."
Shane pointed to one of the steak options on his menu.
"This is delicious. My dad usually orders that."
"Well, it's also deliciously expensive." Ilya chuckled. "Maybe I'll just get some pasta."
Shane's eyebrows rose, and Ilya's second warning alarm rang in his head.
Not only was he a single parent, he was also poor as seven fucks. He could imagine Shane's desires dying out one by one.
"That's okay, it's on me." Shane stated firmly. Ilya was sure he didn't hear him right.
"Sorry?"
"I can pay."
"Uh, no. No, absolutely not, you…I already stressed you out today." Ilya huffed quietly. "I'm okay, I can manage."
"I know." Shane looked at him, and it seemed he truly meant it. He knew Ilya could manage on his own. "You can still let me pay, this time."
This time?
Ilya's mind was so dumbfounded, he just nodded silently.
For the next two hours, the world seemed to shift.
He must've woken up in a different universe. He was starting to suspect this was a dream. Maybe one of those really weird ones he got after watching Raisa's cartoons.
Shane was the nicest guy on Earth.
He asked Ilya questions, so many of them, about so many different things. His family, his life back in Russia, his two jobs, his friends. He looked actually interested in the answers, loosening up a little bit over the course of the dinner, smiling at Ilya's jokes, letting Raisa play with his watch, because she found it pretty. Ilya sat there, watching Shane take the watch off and offer it to the girl, claiming she won't be able to break it, and she can check every little button and the pattern on the strap. Ilya translated that for her into don't throw it into your soup.
And so, he asked Shane his questions as well.
He learned that Shane already had a master's degree in business, and he was already two years into studying psychology (I started college a bit early, it's not a big deal), and planned on starting a side course in sport management this year. He also played hockey growing up, and could end up in the league, but ultimately chose his educational scholarship over the sportsman one. Who the fuck gets offered both?
He still played occasionally, although not as often as he did during his first years in college. Nowadays, he devoted most of his time to either studying or helping run his family's business, ruled mostly by his mother. A few names rang familiar in Ilya's ears.
"Wait, is your mother Yuna Hollander?" He leaned over the table. Shane nodded, as if it wasn't a big deal. "You're kidding."
"What? Why?"
"My best friend, Svetlana, she works as an accountant downtown, and she's managing some papers about…uh, company…fusion, I don't know. She said your mom's name a few times."
"Yeah, we're buying Wikon." Shane waved his hand at the fact. "It's nothing exciting. It's a small firm."
"It's a…" Ilya repeated, letting out an unbelieving laugh. "I used to work for Wikon when Raisa was maybe a year old. It's not a small firm."
"Really? What did you do there?"
"It's a construction company, Shane, what do you think?" Ilya let out a weak laugh, his voice softening as Shane seemed embarrassed at his own question. "I don't have an education, I…I thought about going to college here, but I had Raisa at nineteen, so."
"Oh." Shane nodded slowly. "Well, you can always go in the future."
"Yeah, when she moves out." Ilya sent Raisa a smile, poking her cute, tiny nose with his finger. Raisa giggled. "Yeah, daddy's talking about you, angel. But I won't let you move out, ever, you're staying with me, yes? Until I'm old and ugly. We'll watch Moana until daddy's eighty years old."
He leaned over to kiss her forehead as she laughed at his nonsense.
The waiter asked if they wanted a check, and Shane nodded, taking his wallet out.
"Card, please."
"You really don't have to." Ilya whispered, watching him pay.
"I know, I want to." Shane smiled, and that was the end of the discussion. He left a ridiculously large tip, too.
When Ilya managed to take Raisa out of her chair and dress her back up in her coat, the familiar dreading feeling creeped into his stomach. The date was ending. He realised he didn't want it to end.
He scoured his mind for any excuses, any place they could go to next, for a coffee, a tea, whatever kept Shane by his side, but Raisa was yawning already, and she was a bit pouty, too.
"Do you want a ride home?" Ilya asked as they stepped outside. "Or maybe go to our place? For…a drink, or something?"
He was fully prepared to hear a sympathetic no in response. He had a great evening, he was greedy to ask for more.
"Sure." Shane beamed at him. "If it's okay."
Okay? It was marvelous.
Raisa stuck to Ilya's chest as he carried her, already sleepy. He put her into her car seat, whispering in Russian as she asked if they could go home now. He opened the door for Shane and watched him get inside with a heavy warmth spreading over his body.
The warmth was quickly replaced by embarrassment as he fully understood what he was doing.
The flat was in a nice neighbourhood, at least, he made sure of it when he picked it. Raisa needed a safe space, not cars or criminals rushing down the road. But it was ultimately a tiny box filled with too many things, and he cursed himself for not cleaning up properly before he left.
"Is that the shop you work at?" Shane pointed at the building as they passed it.
"Yes. If you ever need a car repaired, I'll give you a discount."
Shane laughed quietly. Somehow, he found most of Ilya's teasing endearing.
"I have a few." He murmured. "Cars, I mean."
Dear fuck, he was rich, rich. Ilya just smiled at the comment.
He parked and cooed at Raisa as he had to wake her up to bring her out of the car. She was exhausted. It was her bedtime already.
"Let me take the bag." Shane offered as they walked up the stairs, and Ilya had little choice to defy him when Raisa was occupying his arms. He mouthed a quiet thanks, finding his keys in his pocket and breathing heavily with each step up.
He opened the door and let Shane in first, toeing his shoes off as soon as they entered.
"I will just put her to bed, okay?" He asked quietly, taking the girl's coat off. "I'll be right back."
Shane nodded, looking around with a soft smile.
Ilya changed Raisa into her sleeping gown as she was already asleep and carefully put her into her tiny bed, seated right by his in the closet he converted to a secluded bedroom. There wasn't even a window in here, just a fan and a lamp, but it was some sort of closed-off space that they both needed. They couldn't live and sleep in the main area.
He straightened his shirt and quickly fixed his hair in the hallway mirror. Shane was inspecting Raisa's drawings on the fridge.
"Sorry, I know it's messy." Ilya tried to chuckle and found some clean glasses. "Do you want something strong?"
"I'm not great with strong alcohol."
"Uh, a bit of whisky with…this very original Coke?" Ilya pointed at the off-brand bottle standing by the sink. "Sounds good?"
Shane agreed with an amused look.
"You have ice cubes that look like dogs?" Shane glanced over Ilya's shoulder as he prepared their drinks. "That's so cute."
"Raisa begged me for them."
"Well, she has good taste."
They stood in the kitchen, since there wasn't really any place to sit. Shane had no right to look this good under such shitty lighting.
"It's a nice place." He stated. He seemed to actually mean it, funnily enough.
Ilya looked around the small, old kitchen.
"I hoped to get something better, but it seems this is our budget now."
"Do you use any social benefits?"
"Can't. I'm Russian."
"With legal papers, and a child born in the States." Shane took a long sip, leaning against the counter. "There are a lot of loopholes in the law, you know? You could get quite a lot if you applied to the right places."
Ilya tilted his head sourly.
"I'm not good about paperwork. Not fluent enough."
"I could get you some."
"Some what?"
"Papers. For social benefits, for you and Raisa." He gestured with his glass towards the closet, where the girl slept. "With no unnecessary house visits or anything like that. You do have a job contract now, right?"
Ilya nodded, not sure if he followed.
"That's good. And her mom isn't paying child support?"
Her mom wasn't in the picture at all. Ilya agreed to just take everything on himself so he could raise the girl in peace without ever seeing her mother again.
"No." He answered shortly. Shane hummed.
"There are a few tax benefits that could relieve your paycheck a bit. I'll find the right forms."
Ilya looked at him, blinking slowly, the cold glass still in his hand, untouched.
"You'd…do that?"
"Yeah." Shane shrugged. "Of course. If there's a system you could benefit from, you should use it. You've got papers, you're paying taxes, I don't see why you shouldn't be eligible for some financial aid. There's nothing wrong with taking it, you know."
He did know that. His youthful pride had to step back when he became a parent. Any help was welcome, really. Any reasonable help that could make this easier for him and Raisa.
He felt like crying and laughing at the same time, but he just continued looking at Shane in awe.
He put the glass on the counter, clearing his throat.
"I had a really nice time today." He said quietly. "With you."
Shane blushed, and Ilya decided he needed to make him do that more often. It made his freckles show up even more.
"I had a nice time, too."
"I didn't scare you away yet?"
"With what?" Shane muttered, confused. He set the glass down as well. "You're not a serial killer, or something, right?"
Ilya just chuckled, shaking his head and moving closer.
He lifted his hand to Shane's waist, melting at how well his fingers fit there, over the blue shirt. Shane's breathing stuttered, but he didn't move away.
"Can I kiss you?" Ilya asked, stepping in front of him, putting him between himself and the counter. Shane was already staring at his lips, nodding with enthusiasm.
They met halfway, and Ilya could only let out a tiny groan at the intensity.
Shane kissed like a starving man, eager to submit to everything Ilya guided him to do, weak in his arms. He touched Ilya's chest firmly, his fingers pushing into the flesh under them, his legs spreading to let Ilya stand between them, flushed against him as their lips parted and clashed again.
Shane did something with his tongue that made Ilya's knees melt, and he continued to bring out the soft, gentle grunts as he grabbed Ilya's hair in his fist, deepening the kiss and panting under his touch. Ilya let his hands travel over the man's wide, muscular back, down to his hips, until he fully grabbed his ass, smiling as Shane leaned into the touch, lifting his leg and letting Ilya feel just how happy he was to be kissed by him.
Ilya lowered his head to peck at Shane's neck, grazing his teeth over it and feeling the goosebumps spread all over the back of his neck at the audible moan. He hasn't had a sip of the drink yet, and he was already drunk, Shane was so warm, so inviting, so perfect in his hands, growing hard against Ilya's thigh, his hands didn't seem to get enough of Ilya's chest and shoulders.
Ilya rolled his hips softly, kissing the man's ear now and closing his eyes at the response. Shane exhaled through his nose, scratching his fingernails against Ilya's collarbone.
"Fuck."
"Good?" Ilya hummed, rolling his hips again. Shane let out a quiet whine. "You sound pretty."
"Shut up. Oh my God."
He moved back just enough to look at him with a smirk, and Shane's dark eyes dropped to Ilya's body, his hand draping over his belly on the way down. He bit his lower lip, palming the bulge in Ilya's pants.
"Fuck, you're big, aren't you?"
Ilya laughed at the question. He met this man on Grindr, and Shane still hasn't seen his dick.
"You have not seen my username?" He teased, smiling at the eye-roll. "You like that?"
"Yhm." Shane leaned to give him a short kiss again, his hand feeling like fire against Ilya's arousal. "I can handle big."
Endless possibilities flashed in front of Ilya's eyes, each one hotter than the one before. Ultimately, he felt a sour taste in his mouth as he realised that if Shane could handle it, he must've had a lot of it, too.
And if he had a lot of men, not one treated him well enough for Shane to stay.
A quiet, breathless cry came from the closet.
Ilya froze, looking over his shoulder and stepping back with a deep sigh. Shane didn't seem to understand what was happening for a second, his hands kept chasing Ilya.
"Sorry, I have to check on her. Fuck." Ilya groaned, all excitement gone from his body as he rubbed his eyes. "I'll be right back. Sorry."
He went from being drunk on desire to his usual reality. Tired, overwhelmed, and frustrated again. Still, he rushed to the make-shift bedroom and leaned over Raisa's bed, cooing at her quietly.
She was crying. She had a nightmare, she tried to tell him about some stupid witch turning her into an avocado. He lifted her into his arms and swayed around the small space, singing a Russian lullaby to soothe her.
By the time she went back to sleep and let him lie her down without waking up again, he was sure it was all over. He almost jumped in place as he walked out and saw Shane still there, waiting, sitting on the edge of the couch with his hands locked together on his lap.
"Is she alright?" He asked quietly, bringing Ilya out of his surprised state.
"Uh, yeah, she had a nightmare. A lot happened today, that's normal." He breathed. "You're still here."
Shane raised his eyebrows.
"Yeah, of course. I mean, I should probably go now, but I didn't want to leave without saying goodbye."
Ilya was seconds away from calling this man's mother to ask her which factory made people like her son in this day and age. He nodded, understanding, even if he was a bit disappointed.
"Of course, you have classes tomorrow."
Shane smiled as if the fact that Ilya remembered it was truly groundbreaking.
"I do. But it was really fun." Shane stood up, fixing his shirt. "I'll get myself an Uber."
"Shane." Ilya grabbed his wrist as the man tried to walk past him. He gathered all his courage into one question. "Can I get your number? I mean, your actual number."
Shane blushed again, nodding shyly as he reached for his phone.
"Yeah, of course. You can put yours in here, I'll text you."
"Will you?" Ilya asked with a soft smile, typing the numbers in. "Promise."
Shane took his phone back and sent him a smiley face straight away. Ilya's phone, still in his jacket, buzzed.
"I promise. Have a good night, Ilya."
"You too."
He watched him leave and exhaled loudly a few seconds after the door closed.
If this was his last chance at finding someone normal, he can't fuck it up. Not more than he already has.
He wanted this more than he wanted anything in a long time.