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Christmas is getting closer and closer by the day. It’s two weeks away, to be precise. And Ilya is absolutely screwed. It will be the first year he and Shane celebrate the holiday as an “official” couple. Which means a gift will be expected, if not by Shane himself, then at least by his parents. Ilya is almost certain of that.
And he has no fucking clue what to buy. This should be easy. He’s known Shane for a whole decade. It should be the simplest thing in the world to get his boyfriend a gift that he’ll love. But, in actuality, it’s turning out to be much, much harder than Ilya expected.
Why is this so difficult?
In years past, the question of what to buy Shane for Christmas or a birthday wouldn’t have bothered Ilya in the slightest. That is, if they’d even exchanged gifts regularly. But since they hadn’t, Ilya never considered it an issue. This year, however, he knows that Shane is planning to give him something. That’s already been established, and Shane actually seems excited about the whole process. So Ilya has to get him something good in return.
He’d had no idea that Shane was the kind of person to love gift-giving. But around a month ago, Ilya happened to overhear a conversation among all three Hollanders about the joy of Christmas, and he finally got it. This was a family thing for Shane—something he’d picked up from his parents, who were even more excited than their son about the prospect of them all spending Christmas Day together, opening presents, etc.
So expectations are at an all-time high. Ilya considers what he might have done in the past, had he been required to give Shane a gift. He would have likely purchased a decent bottle of vodka, even though Shane would probably never have touched it, and then quit worrying. But that won’t cut it. Shane deserves more, especially now. They’re finally together for real. This is it. What Ilya does this Christmas will set a precedent for the rest of what he hopes will be a very long relationship. He cannot fuck this up.
He’s beginning to spiral when his phone screen lights up. He glances at it. It’s a message from Shane’s mom. She’s begun checking in on him at least once a week, and although it was initially very unexpected, Ilya actually likes that she does it.
“Hey sweetheart, how are you today?” Ilya reads, imagining Yuna’s cheerful voice.
He starts to type a reply, telling her that all is well. That he’s totally okay and not losing his mind over the most ridiculous shit, aka the buying of Christmas presents. But he’s been trying this new thing where he doesn’t automatically shut down. It requires him to be honest about his feelings, and he really hates it, but he’s willing to do it because, in order to be in a functional relationship with Shane, he can’t act like a robot all the time. At least, that’s what Shane tells him. So Ilya deletes what he’d already typed and writes a new message.
“Good morning. I’m fine. I just have to buy Shane’s gift for Christmas soon, and I’m not so sure what to get.”
He finishes the message off with his current favourite emoji; the one with the scrunched up eyes denoting dissatisfaction, unease, worry. He hits send and continues his breakfast. A short while later, he receives a reply.
“Let me take you shopping!”
Ilya’s immediate instinct is to say no. He doesn’t want to be a burden—to cause Yuna to have to take time out of her busy life to plan an hours-long trip, likely driving in the snow, just to take him to some mall right around the corner from his place. But he doesn’t want to turn her down outright. He’s learned that people tend to see that kind of behaviour as stonewalling, rather than as him trying not to cause hassle.
He’s very aware that this will be the first opportunity he’s had to spend any amount of “quality” time alone with Yuna. But what if it goes wrong? What if he says something that she misinterprets? What if she asks him lots of questions about himself, or asks him to discuss how he feels about Shane? Ilya taps his fingers on his phone screen, thinking. What would Shane say? How would he handle this?
He would absolutely encourage Ilya to let his mom take him shopping. He’d be delighted at the thought of them bonding.
Ilya sighs. He rolls his eyes, letting out a groan. Then he unlocks his phone.
“Are you sure?” he types. “That would be good, thank you. If not too much trouble.”
He sends the message, then covers his face with his hands, feeling a little nauseous.