Chapter Text
Ilya had been sad for a long time.
His therapist called it depression, his psychiatrist gave him medication, and he grew to become very, very tired of his mind quickly.
He didn’t realize how bad it was until he had found himself in the Landrys home and he could barely make it out of bed. Mary took one look at him and whisked him away to a hospital immediately.
He knew, deep down, why she had done so... Mary loved Irina.
So had Ilya.
His memories of his mother would filter through his mind often, on days when he needed them and on those when the mere thought of her cut through his heart like shards of glass.
His pills worked, so had his weekly meetings with his doctor. Ilya got better, he couldn’t rewind time and put himself back together before things got this bad, but he was better.
Eventually, just before starting college in Boston, his doctor slowly weaned him off his medication.
“You’re strong Ilya,” his doctor said in Russian. She was kind and patient, especially in moments when Ilya was not. “This isn’t a sprint but a marathon. I want you to understand the brain is complex and so are your feelings. We’ll adjust as we see fit, but I’m proud of how far you’ve come. Remember, video chats when you’re at school and in person over the summer.”
She gave him a smile and for the first time in a long while… Ilya felt hope.
****
Ilya loved his boyfriend.
It was Monday morning and he was waiting for their lecture to start, a continuation of their political science class from last year. The usual suspects had already congregated in the seminar hall. In front of him sat Troy and Harris. Harris was talking animatedly about something and Troy was smiling—Ilya could tell Troy probably had no idea what his boyfriend was on about but the hearts in his eyes said enough.
To their right sat Cliff and Bood, and from peering over Cliff’s shoulder, it seemed as if they were going over the invite list for their next party.
Hayden, JJ, and Rose sat 3 seats over from where Ilya was, laptops out and ready to go.
“Made it just in time,” Wyatt huffed out, climbing the stairs. “And thanks for the wake up call you fuckers.” He fist bumped Troy and nodded a hello at Bood and Cliff. Wyatt clambered onto the seat next to Ilya.
“Wow,” Wyatt smirked. “Fresh coffee? What did I do to deserve this?”
Ilya rolled his eyes. “If you don’t get out of my boyfriend’s seat, I’ll tell Barrett about the time you almost kissed Harris.”
“What?” Troy exclaimed, instantly turning around. “He did what?”
Harris sighed, “Thank you Ilya.”
“Babe what the fuck—” Troy tried to say but Harris interrupted with a pout. “Honey, I forgot my water flask in your room. Can you buy me a bottle from the vending machine outside?”
Ilya almost laughed at how easy his best friend was, tripping over himself to abide by Harris’ wishes.
Wyatt high-fived Harris before moving to where Hayden sat.
“Actually Rozanov,” Hayden called out to him. “He could want to sit with me. You know, his actual best friend?”
Rose cut off any biting remarks Ilya had opened his mouth to say. “Leave them be Hayden, they’re in love.”
Hayden groaned, “Don’t remind me.”
Before Ilya could respond, mint and sandalwood invaded his senses.
“Hey,” Shane smiled down at Ilya. He gave him a quick kiss, “What am I missing?”
Ilya’s heart did double flips at the sight of him. He was wearing one of Ilya’s hoodies, a garment that Ilya knew he had stolen weeks ago. Now being more Shane than his own. His BU hat sat backwards over his raven hair and his freckles danced on his skin, bright and honey colored.
“Nothing sweetheart,” Ilya gave him his own grin. “The party starts when you arrive.”
“God Rozanov,” Shane groaned. “It’s too early for your cheesy pick up lines.” He sat down, taking off his backpack in one go.
Ilya clutched at his chest, “You wound me Hollander. And just when I was about to propose—”
“Fuck off,” Shane laughed. He reached for the coffee and took a sip. “Thank you.”
Ilya hated how his face split into two from one moment to the next, a smile etched onto his skin so prominent whenever Shane even looked at him. “I live to please you.”
“Enough,” Shane scoffed. “You’re going to give Hayden an aneurism.” He reached over Wyatt’s body to fist bump him.
Ilya loved his boyfriend.
They had been dating for almost 4 months at this point, and they were the best months of Ilya’s life. He fell in love with Shane more and more each day, embracing all of his quirks and habits. A happy Shane meant a happy Ilya as their friends liked to tease them again and again.
For example, Ilya learned quickly about Shane’s tendencies to want everything neat, put together, organized, and clean.
His bedroom was his sanctuary and when Ilya was granted permission to enter—to stay—he treated it like the gift it was.
Shane put up rules—no outside clothes on the bed, food must be thrown away immediately, and if Ilya even thought about messing with Shane’s skincare in the bathroom, Ilya could forget about sleeping there.
The one and only time Ilya had broken the rule—he was just looking at Shane’s moisturizers! He didn’t mean to forget to put the lid back on and dry it out!—he had almost lost his drawer privileges.
After a month of dating and learning about Shane’s…particular bedroom rules… Ilya had been given said drawer.
“Voila,” Shane announced. He had marched Ilya into his room, directing him to the wooden piece of furniture on the far end of the space.
“Sweetheart,” Ilya blinked. “I am confused.”
Shane rolled his eyes and pulled out one of the compartments. It was empty.
“Is this a weird Canadien thing?” Ilya scratched the back of his head. “I’m supposed to say thank you for air?”
“Asshole,” Shane shoved him. “It’s for you! You can store your things here now.”
Ilya could swear his pulse skipped a beat. Butterflies erupted in his stomach.
If only the student body could see him now. Big, bad Ilya Rozanov turned to putty. At Shane Hollander’s hands.
“Baby,” Ilya said softly. “Is really for me?”
Shane blushed, nodding. “We keep going back and forth, from your house to mine. And I feel bad that you always forget things when I—I demand we sleep here.”
“Never demand,” Ilya furiously shook his head. “Your bed is much nicer than mine.” And it was a fact. Shane cared about things like thread counts and silk pillowcases. Not to mention the air purifiers and candle warmers he had strewn about. “And, I can sleep wherever you are. Is no issue, as long as you are there.”
Shane reached over to grab his hand. “I want you wherever I am. And now you can leave stuff here. Pajamas, clothes, anything.”
Ilya felt a weird burning sensation in the back of his eyes.
Since the death of his mother, he had never had a sense of belonging. Of wanting to stay in one place. He had always felt like he was overstepping, like Ilya was just a visitor wherever he landed.
But with Shane… it was different. And hearing the words coming out of his mouth… Shane was offering Ilya something stable. Permanent.
“I love you,” Ilya said, kissing him over and over on the lips. “I love you Shane.”
And then a week later, Ilya was groveling.
“That was expensive,” Shane whined, holding up the small tub filled with flaky white liquid. “Ilya!”
“I’m sorry solnyshka,” Ilya had groaned. “It just—it smelled so good! But—it can be replaced? No big deal. It’s just a cream!”
Ilya instantly knew he fucked up.
Shane narrowed his eyes. He stalked over to where Ilya had his clothings and started pulling them out. “No big deal he says,” Shane muttered under his breath. “Fine. He can go sleep with his stupid Kappa Tau brothers, see if I fucking care. What about me right?”
Ilya knew he was at the epicenter of Hurricane Shane.
He rushed over and stopped Shane’s hands. “Baby, baby. I’m sorry. That was not nice of me. Of course your creams matter. They are very nice. Very—uh very important. Everything you care about is important to me.”
Shane’s eyes narrowed even further. But he didn’t continue his movements, to Ilya’s relief. “And?”
Ilya’s eyes darted nervously around, “And—and I will replace it!”
“And?”
“And… uh… I will never ever do or say that again?”
He held his breath until Shane finally nodded and moved back. “Close one there Rozanov,” Shane pointed a finger at him.
Ilya was so in love, his heart almost burst out of his chest. His scary kitten, Ilya almost crooned out but he knew Shane wasn’t above throwing his things out of the window.
Laundry was another thing Ilya picked up on quickly.
It was a full day activity for Shane, filled with notes, charts, and patience. Lots and lots of patience.
Ilya knew he was clumsy, and could be hot headed at times. But he wanted to be good for Shane, to embrace everything his boyfriend threw at him.
Ilya had huffed, measuring out the… clean smelling liquid Shane had bought just for him.
“It’s a softener,” Shane explained thoroughly. “You’ll thank me later.” He had looked so proud, in his element that Ilya had just smiled endearingly, and nodded along to the instructions.
“You’re doing what?” Troy laughed over the phone, on speaker. Shane had left him in the basement of the Sigma Alpha house, where their washer and dryer was. “No fucking way Hollander has you that dick whipped Rozy.”
“Shut up,” Ilya muttered. He had just put in his final load and was taking his dark colored clothing out of the dryer. “I’m learning something new okay?”
Troy just laughed even harder. “Dude. Are you being for real? Wait until I tell the guys.”
“Fuck off Barrett,” Ilya muttered, hands separating his jeans from his sweatpants. “My clothes have never felt better.”
“I have to hang up,” Troy chuckled. “Because I’m going to say more and your leashed ass is going to get offended.”
“Oh I’m on a leash?” Ilya snorted. “You broke Harris’ coffee mug yesterday and almost cried.”
“Hey fuck you! It meant a lot to him alright?”
“Sure, sure,” Ilya said. “And laundry means a lot to Shane.”
“God,” Troy groaned. “Listen to us.” A pause and then, “I’ve never been happier Rozy, that’s the sick part of it.”
And when Shane had come down 20 minutes later, inspected Ilya’s hard work, and kissed him silly because he was so proud Ilya followed his directions? Ilya knew exactly what Troy meant.
Ilya and Shane had become a unit, their lives so overlapped and intertwined, Ilya felt he could finally breathe. With someone standing next to him, ready to catch him at a moment’s notice.
When Wyatt had asked him if they were still planning on renting a cabin once spring semester starts for a weekend full of camping, Ilya had directed him to Shane.
“What,” Wyatt teased, “he has your schedule?”
Ilya nodded, “Da. We have a joint Google calendar.”
“What the fuck,” Cliff groaned. “Dude. Who are you?”
“This can’t be the same Rozy who once fucked 3 people in one night,” Bood laughed. The four of them and Troy were seated around Kappa Tau’s bonfire one night, sans Shane who was out with Rose and Hayden.
“Do not ever repeat that again,” Ilya groaned, pulling the hood of his jacket over his eyes. “Shane would cut my dick off if he was reminded of it. You should have seen when he went through my old Instagram DMs.” Ilya shuddered, “Scary, scary boyfriend.”
It had happened by complete accident. Ilya had asked how many other boys had slid into Shane’s messages and Shane had looked clueless, like he hadn’t realized that was a thing.
But one thing led to another and it culminated in Shane holding his hand out, waiting.
“Jesus Ilya,” Shane muttered. He had been scrolling for the last 5 minutes. “What the fuck. Half are even from when you were dating Svetlana. What happened to respecting other people’s relationships?”
“Moy lyubimyy,” Ilya bemoaned. “Everybody knew I was just hopelessly in love with you and waiting my chance.”
Shane slapped his palm over his own mouth, “Jesus! Some of these are straight up pornographic Rozanov. Not even a ‘hello’ just ‘can I suck your dick?’ Who was Sasha from your Russian literature class? He was very eager.”
Ilya cuddled into Shane’s side, the pair laying on the latter’s bed. “Sweetheart, you can see I didn’t respond to most of these people. It was a dark time.”
Ilya didn’t mention that while he didn’t respond, they would just find him—or him and Svetlana—at parties. Shane would have made him sleep on the couch and Ilya couldn’t sleep without him anymore.
“I’m sure,” Shane said, his face going stonier.
Shane had been in a bad mood for 2 days until Ilya deactivated his account and started anew. The very first picture he posted was of Shane at the shelter Ilya had volunteered at, posing with a rescue. He just captioned it, ‘My heart’ and tagged Shane.
Ilya’s groupchat had erupted in messages teasing him but Shane’s smile and icy demeanor melting off made it all worthwhile.
“Hey,” Cliff smirked, shrugging. “You’d been selected to be the fucking president of Kappa Tau since freshman year man. Led our team in scores for the past 2 seasons. Not your fault, Shane knew what he signed up for. You weren’t discreet with who warmed your bed Rozy.”
“Plus,” Troy teased Ilya even further, a mischievous glint to his eyes. “Didn’t you and Svetlana have threes—”
“Enough,” Ilya cut him off. “Seriously. I get it, I was a slut.”
“No shame in your game man,” Wyatt smiled. “You had every dick and pussy at your doorstep from here until Foxborough. Most guys would be proud of it.”
Troy fist bumped him.
“Oh really?” Ilya turned his attention to him. “Harris turned you into a housewife Barrett. Don’t forget that weekend during sophomore year where you fucked those twins. Within 24 hours of each other. You made Kappa Tau proud."
“What?”
They all craned their heads around and saw a bewildered Harris standing there. “I’m sorry, you did what Troy?”
If they weren’t all surprised, Ilya would have found Troy’s facial expression hilarious.
Troy opened and closed his mouth, nothing coming out.
“Ugh,” Harris fixed his eyes up to the dark night. “What is my life?” And then walked away.
“Baby! Baby, listen to me—thanks a lot Rozy. Harris, baby I can explain,” Troy instantly got up to follow, voice getting louder with each step Harris took.
“Anyways,” Ilya smirked, circling their conversation back. “Like I was saying, ask Shane. He keeps track of where we are. We might be at his parents’ that weekend.”
But the best part—the absolute best part of their newfound relationship, is how jealous Shane would get.
With hockey season in full swing, they were more conscious of their parties. It could be difficult to host when their games would go late into Friday nights. So often times, Shane and Ilya had to hand over responsibilities to other fraternities.
But on the rare occasions when they did? Campus police had shut down every single one of them.
Ilya didn’t do parties in small degrees. And Shane would rather drop dead than let Ilya out perform him. Kappa Tau and Sigma Alpha were still vying for the top spot of course.
“This is what I’m talking about,” Troy had cheered from where he was perched on the kitchen island. Harris was tucked between his legs, his back on Troy’s chest. “I’ve missed this. Jesus, everyone made it, it’s fucking nuts."
It was midnight and the weekend after New Years.
Ilya had decided Kappa Tau was hosting a party, just for the fuck of it. They had won against Dartmouth the night before, Ilya scoring the winning goal and he was still riding the high.
Troy was right, it seemed like everybody on Greek Row had made it.
Everybody except for a certain freckled center.
“I swear,” Ilya scoffed into his drink, red cup filled with vodka and god knows what else. “Pike purposefully hides him to fuck with me.”
J.J. shoved his shoulder playfully. “They’ll be here Rozanov. I told you, Hayden had a question about their exam next week.”
Ilya rolled his eyes. “Exactly. Why the fuck is Pike asking him about homework on a Saturday night?”
“Drink more,” J.J. yelled over the music. “You’re bitchy when you’re sober. And Shane-less.”
“I dressed up for him,” Ilya complained, after gulping down whatever was mixed in with his vodka.
“No you fucking didn’t,” Troy laughed. “You’re literally shirtless right now.”
“Is my point,” Ilya grumbled. “Shane loves it.”
“Oh my god,” Harris groaned. “Come on babe, let’s go dance.”
Troy’s face paled instantaneously but he still followed his boyfriend.
“Hazy!” J.J. called out, waving Wyatt over. “Remember, me and you versus Hollander and Rozanov. Beer pong, we need to get justice for what they did to us on New Years.”
“Where even is Holzy?” Wyatt asked.
“Don’t get him started,” J.J. smirked, gesturing at Ilya. “He’s put a hit out on Hayden.”
Before Ilya could say anything, Crawford made his way to them.
“What’s up guys?”
Ilya grimaced, as he usually did when his previous hook ups found him. Not out of embarrassment or regret, but a stark reminder at how really careless he was with them.
Sue him though. He had been pining over one guy since he was 18, the same guy that hadn’t even given Ilya the time of day until last fall. He was owed his recklessness.
“Hey,” J.J. drawled out the word, amusement alight in his eyes. J.J knew how his president got when Ilya was found in these situations and the fireworks would start soon.
Wyatt just snorted and shook his head, taking another swig at his beer.
“Hey Ilya,” Crawford leaned forward, making sure the sultriness in his voice was heard over the music.
Ilya just raised his red cup as an answer.
The kitchen was rapidly filling with guests and Crawford was happy to sidle up next to Ilya to make room. Ilya saw the grin on J.J.’s face grow.
Fucker.
“Hazy! J.J.! Come here real quick, look at this video,” one of the Kappa Tau guys yelled from across the room.
And then it was just Ilya and Crawford.
Ilya turned his head and saw the other boy was already staring at him. His eyes roamed over Ilya’s face, before landing on his lips.
Yeah, Ilya needed to diffuse this situation before Shane got here. Or he’d be sleeping in his own bed for the foreseeable future.
“Nice win against Dartmouth,” Crawford smiled. “They’re a tough team to beat.”
Ilya shrugged. “Not so tough when we’re the best.”
“I’ve missed that Russian confidence Rozanov.”
Ilya chose to say, “Congratulations on the championship.”
Crawford stepped even closer, where Ilya could smell the tequila on his breath. “Sounds like we both deserve gifts to celebrate.”
“Ah,” Ilya huffed out. “Sorry, too late. My boyfriend already gave me one.”
And he did, Ilya loved to remember. Shane rode him into the mattress last night, drunk off of the game winning goal Ilya made.
Crawford raised his eyebrows, “Boyfriend?”
“Hollander,” Ilya said, taking another sip at his cup. “Shane.”
It didn’t seem to deter Crawford though. “That’s fine. He could join.”
Ilya smirked, taking a step back and creating distance between them. “He doesn’t share. I don’t either.”
Crawford tilted his head. “That’s funny. You and Svetlana did.”
Did Ilya even want to explain to him how different everything was Shane? There was no comparison. Just the thought of anybody else touching him, or touching Ilya, made his stomach turn over.
“Closed doors,” Ilya chose to say instead. “Locked down. Is just me and Shane.”
Crawford shook his head in disbelief.
“Hey,” a voice next to Ilya said. “What’s going on?”
Ilya’s stomach swooped at it. He turned and saw Shane, his beautiful Shane, standing there with a hesitant smile on his face.
“Hi,” Ilya said, grabbing his hand. “I’ve missed you moy lyubimyy. You took too long.”
Shane squeezed his hand back and turned to Crawford. “I don’t think we’ve met. Shane Hollander.” With his free hand—because Ilya refused to let him go—he shook Crawford’s hand.
“Did I interrupt something?” Shane asked. “Or should I be apologizing on behalf of my boyfriend? He gets rude the more he drinks.”
Crawford shook his head, “Nah man. More like I was just congratulating him on his win. Told him he deserved something nice.”
And yup, Ilya knew Shane immediately clocked it. From the corner of his eye, Ilya saw the smile drop from his face. When he made eye contact with Shane, the only message on his face was we’re talking about this later.
“I already gave him one,” Shane responded, that scary smile on his face. “He enjoyed it. Thought it was nice enough.”
“So he said,” Crawford matched Shane’s expression. “Anyways Rozanov, we miss you at our parties. Football team is having one next weekend if you’re interested.”
Ilya knew ‘we miss you’ translated to ‘I miss you.’
“He can’t,” Shane said icily. “He’s busy.”
Crawford chuckled. “Damn Rozy. I didn’t know you had a keeper.”
Shane’s eyes narrowed, “If you want to fuck my boyfriend, just say—”
Ilya interjected, “Da okay. I have plans Crawford.” Ilya moved closer to Shane now, dropping his hand to bring his arm around Shane’s shoulders. Shane fell into him, tucking his side into Ilya’s.
“It was nice seeing you,” Ilya said politely. “Enjoy the party.”
He tugged Shane gently away and was relieved when his boyfriend let himself be pulled.
Ilya found a quiet corner in the hallway, the beer pong having been set up in the dining room and laughter finding its way over to them.
Ilya herded Shane against the wall, placing his hands on Shane’s hips, squeezing until Shane looked at him. “Don’t be mad.”
Shane rolled his eyes, “Why would I be mad? I love running into the people my boyfriend slept with before me.”
“Sweetheart,” Ilya whined, burrowing his face in the crook of Shane’s neck. “I love you.”
Shane sighed but brought one of his hands up to cradle the back of Ilya’s head, running his fingers through the curls there. “You’re so dumb.”
Ilya knew that voice which prompted him to peek up at Shane’s face. He was already looking down at him, a fond smile there.
Ilya pulled back and kissed him, letting his tongue slide onto Shane’s lips trying to gain access. Shane refused to allow him in though, no matter how much Ilya tried.
“Sweetheart,” Ilya whined, “do you want me to beg?”
Shane’s lips were already swollen, a blush dancing nicely alongside his freckles. He laughed, winding his hands around Ilya’s neck. “Try again Rozanov. Maybe you’ll get lucky this time.”
Ilya went back in but Shane was stubborn.
“Mean Hollander,” Ilya groaned against Shane’s temple. “So mean. Depriving his boyfriend of his right.”
“Oh his right?” Shane laughed, parroting Ilya’s words, his voice high with mirth. “What right?”
“His right to kiss his beautiful boyfriend like he wants to,” Ilya pouted.
Shane was the one who kissed Ilya this time, mouth already open and something settled inside of Ilya’s chest.
“I love you,” Shane muttered, panting. “I’m sorry I get crazy.”
“Not crazy,” Ilya whispered. “Is hot when you get jealous.” The pinch he got to his side was worth it.
“Hey Hollander,” a voice said to their left.
“We’re busy,” Ilya grumbled under his breath and Shane kissed him one last time as they broke apart.
“What’s up Andrew,” Shane smiled at the newcomer, nudging Ilya’s ribs signalling him to play nice.
Ilya could see how brightly this other boy looked at Shane and thought, Ah one of Shane’s countless admirers.
Ilya hated that his boyfriend didn’t realize how sought after he actually was. He was the president of one of the top fraternities at BU, had a perfect GPA, and was co-captain of a champion hockey team. Not to mention, he was kind and sarcastic, beautiful and bashful all at once.
“This is my boyfriend,” Shane gestured to Ilya. “Ilya Rozanov.”
Ilya still couldn’t believe it, every time he heard Shane introduce him as his boyfriend. His partner. There was always a tinge of pride to his words, coupled with fondness. He gave an awkward smile, “Hi, hello.”
Andrew’s grin dimmed slightly.
Yup, Ilya thought. Definitely one of his admirers.
The pair started talking about one of their physics classes and Ilya zoned out.
He played slightly with Shane’s hands, letting Shane’s voice envelop him in a warm feeling.
“Ilya—Ilya. Rozanov. Babe!”
Ilya’s hands darted up, Shane’s voice breaking through. “Babe?” Ilya smirked. “New pet name Hollander?”
Shane rolled his eyes. “Don’t be annoying. Come on, you promised me a ginger ale.” Ilya realized Andrew was gone, just the pair were left standing in the hallway.
Ilya’s heart could burst out of his chest at that moment.
There must have been something on his face then because Shane’s eyes grew softer. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
Ilya bit his lip to stop the disgustingly sweet smile his mouth threatened his face with. “No, it’s been 5 minutes since you said so and I’m feeling very ignored.”
Shane kissed him, softly and with such conviction behind it. “You’re so good to me Ilya,” he whispered, slightly pulling back and searching Ilya’s face. “I love you.”
Ilya had thought that had been the end of it except he woke up the next morning in Shane’s bed, his comforter extra fluffy and the air purifier humming softly in the corner.
“Sweetheart,” Ilya groaned, stretching his arms up. He had fallen asleep naked, him and Shane up until 4 am fucking. The party at Ilya’s had subsided around 2 am and Shane brought home a tipsy Ilya. But a tipsy Ilya meant a handsy one and one thing led to another until Shane found himself on all fours, Ilya pounding into him from behind.
What a night.
“In here,” Shane called out from his bathroom. “I’m meeting Hayden and Wyatt for breakfast.”
Ilya hummed, burrowing his head into Shane’s pillow, chasing his cologne there.
“Come give me a kiss before you leave,” Ilya sleepily said.
More time passed before the door opened. Ilya peeked one eye open and the sight stopped his heart cold.
“Baby,” Ilya gasped. “You said you weren’t mad!”
Shane leaned against the doorframe, hands behind his back, and smirked, “I’m not mad.”
Except he was. Shane did this thing when he was upset with Ilya—not enough to be really angry but just there to fuck with him.
He covered his freckles with makeup.
“Moy lyubimyy,” Ilya whined. “I’m sorry. I’ll ban him from our parties is that what you want?” Ilya shuffled to the edge of the bed, picking up his underwear from the floor and sliding them on.
“No,” Shane rolled his eyes amused. “But there is something you can do to make it up to me.”
“Anything,” Ilya immediately said.
“Hayden and Jackie want to go on a double date,” Shane beamed, knowing he walked Ilya right into his trap.
Ilya groaned, “I knew you were still an asshole Hollander.”
Shane waited patiently for his response.
Ilya patted his lap, “Yes okay. Fine. But I can’t be held accountable for what I do if Pike picks a fight.”
Shane practically skipped to where Ilya was. He settled into his lap, straddling him and showed Ilya the makeup wipe he had been hiding. “Take your prize Rozanov.”
Ilya snatched the wipe and brought it gently up to dab underneath Shane’s eyes, “This is another right of mine Hollander.”
Shane huffed out a breath in disbelief, “To my freckles?!”
Ilya nodded, “Da. My beautiful stars, did you miss me?” Shane’s honeyed freckles started peeking out with every swipe. “Little constellations.”
“Ilya,” Shane whined, embarrassed. “Stop.”
But Ilya continued his movements until the foundation was gone. He pressed kisses all over Shane’s face, covering every inch with his lips.
“I love you,” Shane said between giggles.
So yes, these had been the best 4 months of Ilya’s life.
“Focus,” Shane’s voice broke through Ilya’s thoughts, lost to his memories. “We’re moving on to content for our next test.”
Ilya snapped back to the lecture, remembering where he was. Political science class, Shane next to him, their friends all around them.
With Shane there, their lectures always seemed to fly by for Ilya.
Their professor asked a question and both Ilya’s and Shane’s hands flew up.
He called Ilya’s name and the answer rolled perfectly off of Ilya’s tongue.
“Exactly,” their professor said. “Correct as always Mr. Rozanov. So the civil war had started—”
“Don’t be jealous sweetheart,” Ilya whispered into Shane’s ear. “I’ll make sure to mention you in my valedictorian speech next year.”
“Fuck you,” Shane whispered back. “You only got that right because I taught you it last week.”
“Who has the top grade in the class baby,” Ilya asked. “Here’s a hint, you are dating him.”
Shane’s eyes widened at the provocation, “I’ll kill you—”
Troy whirled around, angrily whispering, “Cool it with the foreplay guys.”
Shane blushed.
Ilya winked at Troy who rolled his eyes and turned back.
The rest of their lecture passed smoothly. At the end of the hour, their professor assigned them their next readings and the class packed up.
“Sweetheart,” Ilya teased Shane, “is okay. I can be the brains and the strength in this relationship. You can be my trophy husband.”
Ilya knew he deserved the flick to his forehead.
Shane stomped off, his nose in the air, with Hayden who seemed amused at his best friend’s ire.
“I’ll see you for dinner,” Ilya called out to him.
Cliff and Wyatt waited for Ilya while Troy kissed Harris goodbye. “Dude,” Cliff shook his head incredulously, “how Hollander hasn’t dumped your ass yet, I’ll never fucking know.”
Wyatt threw his head back in laughter, and Troy added, “Rozy must have a secret weapon or something. If I even thought to talk to Harris like that, he’d have my balls in a blender.”
Ilya wagged his eyebrows, “Let’s just say, Shane is very satisfied in our relationship.”
“Rozy,” Cliff complained. “We get it. You’re getting some regularly.”
“More like dail—”
“Okay,” Wyatt cut off Ilya. “It’s the end of January and we haven’t had a party in almost 3 weeks. Who’s hosting tonight, Kappa Tau or Sigma Alpha?”
They had a bye week which meant no hockey this weekend. But that didn’t matter to Shane who still had Ilya on a strict exercise and diet routine.
“Sigma Alpha,” Troy answered. “Hayden said Shane wants to test out their new sound system. Don’t make that face Rozanov, there are some things that Shane tells his best friend first.”
They walked out of the building and Rose’s appearance saved whatever snarky thing Ilya was going to say.
“Big bro,” Rose bounded over. “Why did Shane text me he’s breaking up with you because you’re quote, ‘too annoying with his big head and bigger ego.’”
Ilya laughed, “Hollander is just mad my GPA is better.”
Rose shoved him, “By like half a point.”
“Ow,” Ilya complained, rubbing his shoulder. “Not fair. You’re my sister, you can’t choose his side.”
“I can when you’re being annoying,” Rose beamed. “Just for that, I won’t tell you which one of your frat brothers asked me out.”
That stopped Ilya in his tracks. “What? Who? Rose—Rose!”
Rose had simply shrugged and kept walking.
Ilya whirled around to his friends who all threw their hands up.
“We have no clue Rozy,” Troy said. “We know she’s off limits.”
“Whatever,” Ilya muttered. “Let’s go.”