Chapter Text
It was four-thirty on Sunday afternoon. Shane and Ilya hadn't done anything productive that day besides the best sex Ilya had ever experienced. The feeling of lightness had refused to leave his body, and he still felt intoxicated, exactly as Shane had said he would. Every day Ilya discovered things about himself that only Shane had been able to awaken in him.
They were lying on a blanket spread out on the grass in Shane's backyard, while Ilya read aloud the French version of Me in the Middle, titled Bisa Béa, Bisa Bel.
He abruptly closed the book, placed it beside him, and then took a deep breath, trying to clear the hazy thoughts from his head. He hated when his mind managed to spoil good moments with insignificant memories.
"What's wrong?" Shane looked at him, a flash of concern etched on his face.
"Bisa Béa can be very annoying sometimes," Ilya sighed. "Like the voices of my relatives from Russia."
"Bisa Béa is very old-fashioned," Shane snuggled even closer to Ilya, resting his arm on his abdomen. "Do you miss Russia or your family?"
"They're not my family, I barely knew them... The only thing I miss are the last moments of my father being healthy, that's all."
"Don't you want to go back there someday?"
"No." They looked at each other for a few seconds, Ilya smiled first, but the smile still didn't reach his eyes. "I have everything I need here."
Shane had the most adorable smile Ilya had ever witnessed, with small dimples that made him look like a cartoon character, his rosy cheeks and freckles also didn't help Ilya think otherwise. He was simply stunning.
"You should teach me Russian," Shane said, pulling Ilya from his infatuated reverie.
"You already know everything you need, moya lyubov." His fingers slid across Shane's cheek, appreciating the light tan that moment in the sun had given him.
"Maybe I need more than a few phrases."
"You know more than one?" Ilya propped himself up on his elbows.
"I had to look it up, you refuse to teach me."
Ilya held Shane's chin, forcing him to hold his gaze.
"Tell me."
"Ty moy luchshiy drug," Shane said. This could be a 'gotcha' moment, of course; Ilya couldn't spend his whole life escaping his innocent childhood lie.
But Shane shifted his weight onto one arm, leaning towards Ilya, their foreheads pressed together and their breaths mingled, and he didn't seem to care in the slightest about having been tricked. "Ya lyublyu tebya, ya vsegda lyubil tebya"
Ilya felt his eyes burn as a few tears threatened to fill his vision. He had longed for every syllable that came out of Shane's mouth for his entire existence; he was sure he had been born only to hear that feeling expressed in questionable Russian through the most perfect lips he had ever kissed.
"Hey, don't cry, my love," Shane's finger gently traced across his cheek.
"Ya tozhe tebya lyublyu. Bozhe moi..." Ilya kissed him repeatedly between tears and uneven breaths. "Oh my God, I love you so much it hurts."
"It doesn't have to hurt anymore," Shane whispered against Ilya's lips, before being devoured by an increasingly desperate kiss.
He responded with the same intensity, his fingers sliding under Ilya's shirt as Ilya lay on top of Shane. Each touch only made him want more of it; he would never tire of it.
Ilya resented the years he had spent away from Shane, and each time he did this he desperately felt the need to reclaim every second, as if he could fill those years of emptiness with all the love he now possessed. His mouth slid over Shane's skin, leaving a trail of kisses from his lips to his collarbone; the scent of Shane's skin was intoxicating.
Ilya was grateful for the start of summer and the pleasant temperature, as he wouldn't have to think twice about undressing outdoors. He took off his own shirt and then Shane's, and then returned to kissing his lips.
Shane sighed and writhed beneath him, letting out a few low, involuntary moans, and Ilya felt their erections brush against each other under the fabric. It wasn't nearly enough for what he desired, but it felt incredibly good.
"Damn," Ilya reached out to pull down his shorts just enough to make skin-to-skin contact. Shane did the same, arching his hips, seeking even more friction.
This might seem ridiculous compared to the image of Shane fucking him against the kitchen island earlier, but it was exciting in a completely different way. It wasn't long before Ilya began to feel the pre-cum of Shane's cock against his skin. Everything Ilya was discovering about him was so exciting; he just wanted to fill all his senses with the love of his life and all the hot things he was willing to share.
"Why does this feel so good?" Shane said, glancing around towards his neighbors' fences, but Ilya was sure that even if they were low enough for someone to see, it wouldn't stop him.
"Because you like being bad," his teeth dragged across Shane's skin, he wanted to bite and lick every inch he could without ever breaking the contact of their hips, and so he did while his fingers played with Shane's perfect nipples.
But what part of him wasn't perfect? Ilya tried to keep his blurry eyes open just enough to appreciate the blush on the other man's face, a small smile on his parted lips that let out increasingly desperate moans.
"Ilya... Oh my God..."
"Come for me, Shane," he said against the man's lips before sliding his tongue back into his mouth.
His movements became increasingly frantic until he felt the heat of Shane's come on his dick, and with just a few more thrusts he came too. His body melting heavily onto Shane's, their tongues touching tirelessly, he couldn't stop kissing him.
A few minutes later he finally lay back on the sheet again, trying to recover from the numbness that had gripped him from head to toe and made his chest and face burn.
Shane's low laugh pierced his ears, and he opened one eye to see him. He was the most beautiful man imaginable, each of his freckles highlighted by the blush the orgasm had brought to his face.
"I fucking love you," Shane sighed. "I feel like a teenager."
Ilya turned to the side, picking up his shirt and wiping the dirt from his abdomen before it could drip onto the sheet, then he wiped Shane's stomach as well.
"Horny?"
"And stupidly in love."
Ilya dropped the shirt and then slid his fingers down Shane's nape, pulling him closer.
"So we're two lovesick idiots," their noses brushed against each other.
"I still can't believe you're mine," Shane whispered as if it were a precious secret.
They kissed slowly, Shane's fingers grabbing Ilya's hair, keeping him as close as possible, a kind of peace that had taken a lifetime to find.
They lost track of time, and the only clue that the day was ending was the sun slowly moving; thankfully, there was still plenty of light for them to admire each other.
"I hate to say this, but I think we should clean up," Ilya sighed. "I need to pick up Anya from my mother's house."
"Are you bringing her here?" Shane asked excitedly. He had grown much more fond of the dog than he admitted, and the feeling was mutual.
"No, my love, I need to sleep at home tonight. I'll take Sasha to the airport in the morning."
Shane's expression changed instantly. "Okay."
"Does that bother you?"
"I can't say I like it," Shane sighed.
"Do you want me to ask him to call an Uber?"
"No," Shane replied too quickly. "I don't want to be that kind of person. He's been nice to me so far."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"You can come with me if you want." Shane's eyes lit up at the idea. "We leave early and I'll drop you off at work afterward."
"Won't that be weird?"
"No, and I didn't want to sleep away from you anyway."
"Okay."
Ilya gave him one last kiss before they got up and went inside. In the shower, he pulled Shane's hair up into a messy mohawk; he looked adorable with the new hairstyle.
"I was thinking..." he began cautiously. "You should have your own drawer in my apartment."
"Really?"
"Yeah, that way you don't have to carry a bag every time." Ilya wondered if he was sounding as casual as he wanted.
"Well, in that case you should have one here too," Shane said seriously, but his hair was distracting Ilya, who combed it back again.
"Sure."
"And Anya's toys?"
"Yes, moya lyubov."
"I'll buy her a bed."
"Are you planning on taking custody of my dog?"
"She told me she likes it here better."
"She did?"
"Yes," Shane smiled before taking Ilya's lips again. "I think you'll have to come here more often if you don't want to be away from her for too long."
"That sounds like a good plan."
They kissed a little more until Ilya managed to gather enough strength to stop.
"You're very greedy, Hollander."
"You make me hungry."
"Don't say things like that to me when we're both naked." Ilya pulled him closer. "I might not let you get away with it next time."
"Please promise." Shane smiled; he could be a spoiled brat sometimes.
Ilya had hit the jackpot.
📚💖☕
Ilya was driving to Irina's house when his cell phone rang.
"It's Sasha," Shane said, seemingly unbothered.
"Can you answer it for me?"
"Sure," Shane reached for the phone, answering the call before putting the receiver to his ear.
Even though it wasn't on speakerphone, Ilya could hear how agitated Sasha's voice sounded.
"Hi, Sasha, it's Shane... Ilya is driving."
Shane's expression turned very serious as he listened.
"We're almost there, we're about 5 minutes away, don't worry. Bye."
"What happened?"
"Your mother, she's not feeling well."
"What's wrong with her?"
"Sasha just said she's in a lot of pain."
Ilya unconsciously accelerated, fear beginning to coldly settle in his stomach.
"Baby, calm down, we're almost there."
"Okay," Ilya forced himself to breathe consciously for the rest of the drive, but as soon as they stopped in front of Irina's house, he jumped out of the car and used the copy of the key his mother had given him years before to enter the house. Shane followed him.
"Mama?" he said, addressing her. Irina looked so small, huddled on the sofa, her face contorted in pain.
"She can't speak, and I think she's short of breath," Sasha said. "It all happened so suddenly. She was fine, and then suddenly she started moaning in pain and couldn't speak properly anymore."
"Did she say where it hurts?" Shane asked.
"She couldn't say, but she put her hand on her back."
Ilya lifted Irina into his arms and started walking towards the door.
"Sasha, get her purse, it's on the table."
"Sure," the man hurried, then followed Ilya and Shane outside, locking the door.
Shane took the driver's seat while Ilya settled into the back seat with her mother.
"And where's Anya?" Shane asked Sasha, who was fastening his seatbelt in the passenger seat.
"She's fine, I fed her."
"Okay." Shane started the car, driving steadily at the speed limit until they reached the hospital. Ilya probably would have caused an accident if he'd been driving at that moment.
He wasn't a man of strong beliefs, but at that moment he thanked God for Shane and begged for his mother.
'Please, please, please' was all his mind could think. 'Please, God, don't take her too.'
Shane stopped at the emergency room entrance for only ten seconds; that was all it took for Ilya to get out of the car carrying his mother. She was conscious, but every sound coming from her mouth sent shivers down Ilya's spine.
He was only vaguely aware that Sasha had followed him while Shane was probably parking.
"Please," he said to someone he assumed was a nurse, "She's in a lot of pain and can't speak."
"This way," the woman placed her hand on his back, guiding him to triage.
Ilya placed his mother on a stretcher. A doctor approached, asking a few questions while assessing her. He answered everything he could, but felt increasingly less present there.
"Her blood pressure is high. We'll give her medication for the pain and take her for some tests. You can wait outside."
The same nurse who had taken him to triage guided him outside and closed the door. His eyes searched for Shane until he found him next to Sasha in the waiting room. Both men were standing with worried expressions.
"Hey, what did they say?" Shane asked, hugging him. Ilya needed all his strength not to break down.
"They’re already giving her medication, and they’re going to run some tests."
"Everything’s going to be okay."
"And what if it isn’t, Shane? I’m fucking terrified," Ilya said, burying his tear-streaked face in the crook of Shane’s neck.
"I know, my love, I know."
"I need information about my mother," they heard Svetlana’s voice, raised and agitated. "Irina Vetrova."
Ilya turned and saw his sister leaning over the reception desk; even from a distance, he could see she was trembling. Rose was beside her, steadying her.
"I’ll talk to her," Sasha said, walking over to the women. He returned with her and Rose and helped her sit down.
"Don't they know what's wrong with her?" She looked just as devastated as Ilya. If there was anyone in the world who understood exactly what he was feeling, it was Svetlana.
"The tests take some time," was all he could manage to say.
"Hey, I know this is scary, but it might not be anything too serious, okay?" Rose had her arm around her in a side-hug; Ilya wished he could comfort his sister, but right then, he needed comfort himself.
Shane had convinced him to sit down after he’d checked Irina in and filled out the forms; Sasha had brought water for him and Sveta. Both of them still had puffy eyes an hour later when a nurse informed them they could see their mother.
Irina looked nothing like the woman who had arrived there just over an hour ago; she still looked tired, but she was almost smiling.
"Come here." Still lying down, she opened her arms so her children could snuggle up to her.
"Are you okay?" Svetlana asked, wiping away a few tears.
"I’m great, they gave me the good drugs."
Ilya laughed in relief. Moments later, the doctor entered the room holding a clipboard. "Your mother gave us quite a scare, didn't she?"
Irina smiled at him as if he were an angel on earth.
"What happened to her?" Ilya asked.
"Your mother has stones in her left kidney."
Sveta took a deep breath, like someone who had just emerged from turbulent waters.
"Thank God," she said, kissing her mother's hand.
"Hey, that hurts," Irina laughed.
"Is that all? Is she going to be okay?"
"Yes, she is," the doctor confirmed. "Although it's a simple condition, it's extremely painful."
"So, what do we do now?" Ilya finally allowed himself to breathe again.
"Your mother is going to undergo a procedure called a ureteroscopy; it's very simple, the recovery is easy, and she'll be discharged tomorrow."
"How long until she can fly?" Svetlana asked.
"Well, I’d say within fifteen days."
"Why are you asking about that?" Ilya had a bad feeling.
"I want Mom to come to Italy with me."
"What?" Ilya felt indignation replace the sadness that had weighed him down just moments before.
"I think it’s best if you don’t discuss this here," the doctor said. "Your mother’s blood pressure has already fluctuated significantly today; we don’t need any more strong emotions right now."
"Please, don't fight," Irina said.
"It's fine, we aren't fighting." Ilya kissed his mother on the forehead, but his eyes were glaring at his sister.
"We’re going to prep your mother for the procedure; you’ll have to wait outside."
"Can I spend the night with her?" Ilya asked.
"You can, but you don't have to; your mother will be well cared for. You just need to pick her up in the morning."
"I’d prefer to stay," Ilya said firmly.
"I want to stay with her too," Sveta said.
"Unfortunately, only one of you can stay. You can decide that while you wait outside. The procedure is quick; within three hours at most, she’ll be recovering from the anesthesia. When we’re finished, I’ll have someone let you know."
"Okay."
"Thank you, Doctor." Sveta nodded to the man before he left the room.
They both said goodbye to their mother and walked in silence to the reception area, but before Svetlana could join the three people waiting for them, Ilya pulled her outside.
"What is wrong with you?" she said, pulling away from his grip on her elbow.
"Me? What is wrong with you? What makes you think you’re taking my mother to another continent?"
"Our mother! I just want to be close to her."
"Yes, our mother, and if you want to be close to her, why don't you move to Canada?"
"I have a successful career, Ilya; if she comes with me, I can give her everything. She wouldn't have to work anymore."
"And who told you she wants to stop working? Mom is only forty-eight, Svetlana; she likes what she does. If you took her away from here, you’d end up killing her with sadness, just like our father almost did."
"Mama wasn't depressed back in Russia."
"And how would you know? You weren't there; you left right after we buried him."
Ilya regretted the words the moment he saw Sveta’s eyes well up with tears again.
"You can't decide this on your own."
"Neither can you. Who would have thought... like father, like daughter." He gave a weak laugh. "Two minutes inside a hospital and you’ve already decided Europe is the best place in the world, completely ignoring the life we have here."
"You can come too, Ilya. I make enough money for all of us to live comfortably. You could travel with her, keep teaching if you want, you could even learn another language."
"I’m not even going to tell you what to do with your money." Ilya took a deep breath. "I’m not going anywhere, and neither is mama; she’ll tell you that herself tomorrow."
"I want to stay with her tonight."
"No, you aren't going to upset her with your crazy ideas right now. You can take the car and drive Sasha to the airport early in the morning, and then pick us up here afterward."
"Is this because of Shane? Is he the reason you don't want to go?"
"I understand that Canada isn't your home anymore, maybe a few years away were enough for you to forget our childhood here, but Canada is where I belong, Shane is my home, and I’m never leaving him."
"Not even if she chooses to come with me?"
"You might be very disappointed if you really think there's a chance of that happening."
"Hey," Shane's voice cut through theirs as he approached. "Sasha saw you two leave a while ago; are you okay?"
"Yeah, we're fine, baby" Ilya said, hugging him. "I'm going to spend the night here with my mom; she's having a procedure, it's much less serious than we thought."
"Oh, I'm glad she's okay. I was really scared by everything that happened."
"I know," Ilya said, gently touching Shane's face.
"Shane," Sveta called out, Ilya looked at her too, unsure of what to expect. "Thanks for bringing her; Ilya probably couldn't have managed without you."
"It's okay," Shane smiled faintly, completely unaware that Sveta had suggested Ilya might leave him just moments earlier.
"Can Rose take you?" Ilya asked.
"Sure. Do you need anything?"
"No, you've already done so much for us today." Shane gave a shy smile, and Ilya couldn't resist giving him a quick kiss. "I love you."
"I love you too."
Svetlana watched them in silence, her eyes wide.
"Can you go on ahead, baby? I'll catch up with you in a bit."
"Sure." Shane gave him a quick peck and headed back inside the hospital.
"I didn't know you two had already said those words."
Ilya laughed wearily. "Those words... the way you say it makes it sound like something strange."
"It is strange to me, this, you and Shane. You spent ten years without seeing each other; how is it possible that you're in love so suddenly?"
"Excuse me? Is eighteen years 'sudden' to you? I never stopped loving Shane. And even if I hadn't run into him by chance while on my way to meet some random guy from Tinder, I still never would have stopped loving him."
"Is that how you reconnected?"
Ilya nodded.
"You never told me," she said, a bit upset.
"What difference does it make?"
"If I’d known all this, I wouldn’t have suggested you come with me to Italy; that whole story between the two of you is like something out of a fucking movie..." She sighed. "I’m sorry, Ilya, I’m sorry. I was just being selfish."
"It must be genetic; I can be pretty selfish sometimes, too," he shrugged and held out his hand to her.
Svetlana hugged him tightly.
"Please, let’s not fight," she whispered against his shoulder.
"I don’t want to fight," Ilya whispered back. "I’m sorry; I said some stupid things, too."
"It’s okay now," she said, cupping his face in her hands. "She’s fine... We're fine. I love you."
"I love you too, my little monster."
They went back inside the building together; the group kept him company until someone came to let him know he could go back to Irina’s room.
Ilya said goodbye to Shane with a tight hug; it felt like an eternity since late afternoon, when they had innocently made plans to spend the night together.
"See you tomorrow," Shane smiled.
"See you tomorrow, moya lyubov."
Ilya watched Svetlana and Rose walk out holding hands; they looked beautiful together.
"I hope it doesn't take another five years for us to meet again," Sasha said, opening his arms.
Ilya hugged him tightly and said sincerely, "It was really good to see you."
"Goodbye, Ilya."
"Have a good flight, Sasha."
📚💖☕
The night at the hospital was exactly what Ilya had expected, though less hectic than it used to be with Sergei, and free of annoying machine beeps.
Irina was on painkillers and slept soundly through the night. The doctor had discharged her just minutes before Sveta arrived to pick them up. The drive home was quiet; if his sister still intended to bring up the subject of moving abroad, she decided to save it for later.
Ilya was exhausted but couldn't sleep. So, he cleaned his mother’s already-clean house and taught two lessons he’d scheduled for the day and forgotten to cancel. He heard at least twice that he looked like he’d been run over by a train (ten-year-olds could be cruel sometimes). Late in the afternoon, he took Anya for a walk; she was more clingy than usual, it was the first time Ilya had slept away from her for two consecutive nights. Even when he stayed at Shane’s place, he usually brought her along; Anya loved having a backyard for a change.
When they got back, Ilya showered, put on the clothes of Shane’s that had been in his car, and waited patiently for the knock on the door, which didn't come until 7:45 p.m.
Shane arrived with Yuna, who had brought a casserole dish of stroganoff and roasted potatoes for dinner.
"You didn't have to do this," Irina said, hugging her as soon as Yuna set the dish on the kitchen table.
"Is it still your favorite?"
"You remember that after all these years?"
"Of course I do."
"You look tired," Shane said, giving Ilya a quick kiss.
"He didn't sleep at all," Irina complained. "He hovered over me all day; I kept telling him I’m fine."
"Let's have dinner, and then you're going to bed," Shane decided.
"I'm not sleepy."
"Nobody cares." Shane stroked his hair. "Where are the plates, Irina?"
"Here..." She made a move to get up.
"No, no, no," Yuna interjected. "Shane and I will set the table, you just rest."
"Okay." She raised her hands in surrender.
Svetlana joined them at the dining table but spoke so little that Ilya began to wonder if she was sick. When everyone had finished eating, she and Shane worked together to clear the table, washing and drying the dishes. Afterward, she excused herself and went out to the backyard to make a phone call, and Ilya could have sworn she was talking to Rose.
Shane walked Ilya to the guest room at Irina’s house, which was just another way of saying it was the room she had set up for when Svetlana and Ilya came to visit. It had two twin beds with a wide dresser between them; Svetlana’s things were spread out across the top, along with some of Irina’s books that Ilya had brought into the room, and there was a lamp at each end of the dresser.
"Are you sure this bed can hold both of us?" Shane asked, lying down next to Ilya in the cramped space.
"I think it can, as long as we stay still." Shane’s nose brushed against Ilya’s, and his body began to relax. "I missed you."
"It was only one night," Shane smiled.
"One night and a day."
"I missed you too." Shane kissed him slowly, his hand stroking Ilya’s curls until his eyelids began to grow heavy.
"I love you so much," he whispered.
"I love you too."
That was the last thing Ilya remembered hearing before falling asleep; when he woke up, unaware of how much time had passed, Shane was no longer in the bed.
He looked for him around the house and found him in the living room; Irina and Yuna were sharing the smaller sofa, smiling as they reminisced about the boys' childhood stories. It wasn't as if he and Shane had been much trouble, Shane, at least, hadn't been. Ilya had certainly had his fair share of fights.
"Oh my God, I remember the time Shane hid in the closet to scare me, but he ended up falling asleep; we searched the whole house and couldn't find him."
Shane laughed at the memory of his little prank and opened his arms to welcome him.
"You didn't sleep at all; I only left the room ten minutes ago."
"You left me all alone," Ilya grumbled, lying down on the sofa with his head in Shane's lap.
"You need to rest."
"I'm not sleepy," Ilya said, his eyes barely staying open.
"Some things never change," Yuna said with a smile.
"Ilya, you should go home," Irina said. "Svetlana is here with me, she can help me if I need anything."
"And what if you feel sick? Sveta can't carry you."
"Neither can you, if you're dead on your feet."
"Your mom is right, Ilya, and you don't live that far away, you can be back in a flash if she needs you." Shane stroked Ilya's cheek with his thumb.
"Are you coming home with me?"
"Of course, you aren't driving like that." Shane kissed him on the cheek.
"Okay," Ilya nodded. "I'll grab our bags, then."
He sought out Svetlana to give her some unnecessary instructions about calling him if Irina showed any change in condition.
"Ilya, I'm older than you; I can take care of our mother."
"Just call me, okay?"
"Okay," she said, exasperated. They said goodbye with a hug.
A short while later, Shane was driving to Ilya's apartment with Anya in the back seat. Ilya wanted to talk, but exhaustion had taken over, and all his energy was focused on not falling asleep before he was actually in bed.
Upon arrival, he climbed the stairs leaning on Shane, while Anya made her way up effortlessly, as usual. Once inside, she grabbed one of her toys and went straight to her bed, ignoring them for the rest of the night.
Shane helped Ilya undress and tucked him in before stripping off his own clothes and getting under the covers.
"Thank you."
That was all Ilya managed to say before being overwhelmed by the exhaustion he had ignored for the past 36 hours; he finally drifted off to sleep, listening to the sound of his breathing mingling with Shane's in the dark room.