Work Text:
“Here’s to another successful year!” Yuna raises her glass high in the air, a smile on her face as David, Shane and Ilya all clink the edge of their glasses against hers.
The environment tonight is lively. The restaurant/bar is crowded with patrons milling in and out, drinks sloshing in hands as the music swells. It’s not normally the type of place they’d go for a quiet dinner out, but Yuna and David had insisted on a celebratory feeling for tonight. It was another successful year of the Irina Foundation, the last camp just ended, and everyone’s feeling pretty elated.
“All credit goes to my husband,” Ilya says, still giddy after all this time that he can still refer to Shane this way. “He makes everything happen, I am just along for the ride.”
“Stop it.” The tips of Shane’s ears hue an adorable red. Ilya yearns to lean in and nip at them with his teeth, but he refrains, considering their present company.
“I will never stop telling you how amazing you are,” Ilya says, reaching over the table to squeeze his wrist once. He’s holding back on the affection, because he knows Shane gets uncomfortable being too mushy around his parents.
“Ilya is the one who makes all the kids actually want to come back,” Shane says, voice tinted with a heavy warmth. “If it were just me there, they’d all be miserable. I’m too strict.”
“You are firm,” Ilya corrects him gently.
“I’m strict,” Shane replies with a wry grin. “It’s good. We balance each other out, right?”
“Sounds like the perfect team,” Yuna says with an arched eyebrow, “are you boys thinking about finally applying these skills to some kids of your own?”
Ilya’s face feels warm, and he ignores Shane’s eyes darting toward him. The kids conversation has sort of been on the backburner for a few years now. Both of them are still actively playing hockey, and it doesn’t really appeal to them just yet to pull back and focus on starting their family. They have time. They both want it, badly, just maybe in a few years.
Of course, that doesn’t stop Yuna from being a very eager, hopeful, pre-grandmother.
“Mom,” Shane says patiently, “when we’re ready, we will.”
“You’re not getting any younger,” she reminds him with a smirk.
David laughs. “Yuna!”
“I’m just saying! That’s what my mom said to me!” She shrugs playfully, picking up her glass to take another sip.
“And that’s enough wine for you,” Shane tells her, shaking his head as he laughs.
Ilya smiles fondly as he watches the interaction. It never fails to amaze him how easy and comfortable the Hollanders are with each other. They never fight, not really. He remembers one night when he and Shane had first gotten together officially, they’d gone to the Hollanders for dinner. Shane and his mom had gotten into a heated debate over who was cheating at poker. It was mild and entertaining, even through the curse words and jabs Ilya could feel the love pouring between them.
Afterward, on the drive home, Shane had gotten a little quiet. He’s well aware of the struggles Ilya faced in his home life with his own parents. He’d apologized for the bickering, worried it had upset Ilya. He’d called it a fight.
Ilya had just laughed and told Shane he really didn’t know what a “fight” looked like. Shane got quiet again after that.
So, even now, the novelty of this healthy family unit is not lost on Ilya. And the fact that they’ve accepted him into it, well, that feels pretty fucking good too.
He’s spent most of his life trying to piece together enough parts of a family to make one whole. The memories of his mother, tiny little duct tape pieces over his heart. His niece’s childish giggle, back when he was able to visit her every summer. Svetlana’s protective, firm love.
Shane. Every single thing about Shane.
Ilya has not quite figured out what will make it feel whole, maybe kids of his own, or maybe it just never will. But he knows that Shane does the job no other human being in his life ever could. He makes Ilya not mind so much that he’s incomplete.
Shane, somehow, loves him despite his damages. Shane kisses the chest which houses a heart that still doesn’t beat the same as it once did. He soothes the pain that sometimes rears its ugly head late at night when he starts to realize he’s forgetting how his mama smelled. He caresses the cheek that was once lovingly cupped by a beautiful, struggling young mother.
His love will never replace what Ilya lacked growing up, but Shane has been healing him for longer than he knows.
And his family is no small part of that.
“Ilya?” Shane’s voice brings him back to reality, and he looks down into the concerned eyes of his husband. Even in the dim lights of the restaurant, he’s the most beautiful man in the world.
“All good,” he confirms, squeezing Shane’s arm once more.
Shane nods, not prying, but keeps his eyes on Ilya a bit worriedly for the rest of dinner. Ilya appreciates the sentiment, sometimes Shane makes him feel like a baby with the protectiveness he shows. But he knows it’s reciprocal- he’s a little frightened of the things he would do for his husband.
The food is good, even though the place is a bit of a dive. Some live karaoke starts and the singing is so abysmal, the energy in the restaurant gets a lot more hectic and silly. It’s getting late now, later than they’d usually stay out, but there’s a celebratory feeling in the air, so no one minds.
Ilya is pacing himself on the drinks, just two beers and one shot for the table. He notices David has abstained altogether, which is reassuring since he drove them here. Shane has never been much of a drinker, but he accepts the shared shot and goes through a few glasses of wine alongside his mother.
It’s another thing Ilya likes about the Hollanders, though. Unlike when his dad and brother would drink or snort coke, they never knew where the line was, they never knew when to stop, and usually the alcohol or subsequent withdrawals would make them both belligerent.
He feels safe here at this table, knowing these people all have their wits about them, and aren’t interested in crossing any lines. He won’t have to babysit anyone tonight, or wonder if they’ll overreact to mundane things, or worry about any of them getting alcohol poisoning. And he knows he won’t either.
Ilya used to have to drink and get high a lot. He doesn’t do coke anymore, or drink much, or smoke cigarettes. He does partake in the regular indulgence of pot, but that’s a plant anyway, so who cares? He no longer feels like he needs any of those things to cope, to survive.
He’s safe now, is the point. And even though he has been for a long while now, it sort of…never gets old, appreciating it.
“Shane, you should put your name on the list next,” David says teasingly to his son, gesturing behind them at the karaoke booth.
“Ha!” Shane waves a mozzarella stick at his father. “Eating this fried shit is as all the fun I’m having tonight.”
“Is good?” Ilya checks, pleased when Shane takes a bite.
“Very good,” he says, “even though I’m gonna pay for it later.”
Shane’s stomach is still pretty sensitive to foods like this, despite the fact that he’s doing very well with his diet these days. He has a much less strict regimen and is no longer assigning rules and value to foods. He still eats clean most of the time, but he says it’s because it makes him feel good. Ilya believes him, as long as he’s still okay to indulge occasionally without guilt.
“I will look after you,” Ilya promises, reaching down to rest a hand lovingly on his thigh beneath the table.
“You don’t have to,” Shane assures him, “I’ll be alright.”
“I know I don’t have to,” he replies, “I want to.”
Shane smiles at him, tips of his ears turning pink again. So fucking adorable.
“Well, if we aren’t singing,” David amends with a gentle smile, “we should probably get the check. It’s gettin’ late.”
“You’re right,” Shane agrees, glancing at the time on his phone. “Wow, we’ve been taking up this table for three hours. I hope they aren’t mad.”
“Honey, we’ve been ordering food and drinks the whole time.” Yuna chuckles. “I’m sure they’re fine. Not to mention the ridiculous tip you’re going to leave.”
“It’s only fair.” Shane shrugs. He glances at Ilya, reaching over to softly card his hands through the curls atop his head. “You look exhausted, babe.”
It has been a long day. The final day of camp is always a big one, and then they had a few meetings for review and preplanning for next year already. Not to mention they’re back for training with the Centaurs soon, so they’ve been conditioning for that. And as much as he loves his in-laws, a three-hour dinner does drain his social battery nowadays more than he’d like to admit. He’s not that young kid who partied every night anymore.
“I am a little tired,” he admits sheepishly.
“Stay put. I’ll go get the car.” Shane moves to stand, but Ilya is already shaking his head.
“No, not by yourself.”
They’d had to park a few streets over because this area is so busy tonight. It’s a bustling weekend downtown. He does not like the idea of Shane walking by himself in the dark.
“I’ll come too,” David says, “I’m driving anyway.”
“Perfect.” Shane reaches down and plants a kiss on Ilya’s hand, so quick you’d miss it if you blinked. “Stay put. We’ll be back in a few and you can just walk right out to the car.”
“Be safe,” Ilya insists.
Shane grins. “I’d kick anyone’s ass who needed it, Ilya.”
Fair point.
“Me too,” David adds, ignoring the eyeroll from Yuna.
There’s a brief, shared laugh, and then the boys depart to go get the car, leaving Ilya and Yuna alone.
“Are you doing alright, honey?” she asks, leaning in so he can hear her over the god-awful cover of Simple Man happening onstage.
“I am fine,” he says, nodding. “Honestly I was just…in my head a little. Being so grateful for everything Shane and I have.”
At that, Yuna’s expression softens. Her warm brown eyes are so gentle and earnest, they really remind him of Shane’s when he looks at them for too long.
“That makes me so happy, sweetheart.” Yuna reaches over and takes his hand in hers, squeezing delicately. “You know that you joining our family has been the biggest gift, don’t you?”
Ilya swallows thickly. He isn’t sure why it feels like there’s something stuck in his throat.
“You…do not know what that means to me,” he admits roughly.
“I think I do, sweetie.” Yuna squeezes him again and releases. “I love you very much, we all do.”
“I love you too,” he replies, clearing his throat to keep his composure.
“I don’t want to gush and run, but I do need to use the restroom before the boys get back.” She hops down from her barstool, craning her neck through the crowded restaurant. “I’m going to find the ladies room.”
“Do you want me to come with you?” Ilya asks, not loving the idea of her heading off on her own through the throes of drunk people.
Yuna smiles at him. “I’ll be just fine, dear. Back in a few!”
She disappears into the crowd. Ilya exhales, and taps his fingers against his empty glass.
He tries not to overthink it. Shane and David will be fine. They are together, and Shane is five-foot ten, two-hundred pounds of pure muscle. He would have no trouble defending them if they needed it. And Yuna is just going to the bathroom for crying out loud.
Ilya supposes he’s a bit sensitive to the thought of something happening to his family again, after managing to find his way back to one. It makes him a little overprotective. He knows he has to work on that.
Anxiously, he tilts his head, trying to see around the corner. He isn’t sure where exactly the bathrooms are in this place, but he feels like Yuna would have been able to find them by now. Maybe the line is really long? The place is crowded.
Unable to help himself, he gets to his feet, carefully navigating through the hordes of people. He does a brief circuit of the restaurant and bar portion, perplexed when he can’t seem to locate any bathroom signs.
He manages to snag a server bustling by and asks, “excuse me, where is the bathroom please?”
“Oh, the bathrooms are out back, just go out the side door, it’s a small walk, and they’re in the building behind this one.”
Ilya stiffens. He has never heard of a restaurant having a detached bathroom. Canada is still so strange.
“We needed more space,” she explains, “as you can see it’s quite crowded in here. But the facilities are very nice! Just a bit of a walk to get there.”
“Got it, thank you.” Ilya heads for the side door. He isn’t sure why his heart is racing suddenly, or his stomach feels heavy and weighty inside of him. There’s this uneasy pit in his gut, an instinct he can’t explain.
You are paranoid, he tells himself, everyone is fine. You are not losing your family again. Stop stressing yourself out.
The walk to the bathrooms is brief and perfunctory, cold air chilling his bones. There aren’t too many people out here, and by the time he sees the small building with the neon bathroom signs, he feels like he’s the only person out here. It doesn’t seem right to wait outside the women’s restroom, but he isn’t sure what else to do. He wants to make sure Yuna makes it back okay. Surely she hadn’t expected to have to walk outside.
He crosses his arms over his chest, jaw clenched as he paces around in front of the building. No one exits the bathroom. After a minute, his anxiety gets the better of him, and he knocks on the women’s bathroom door.
No reply.
Tentatively, he nudges it open, covering his eyes and announcing, “is anyone there? I am a man, sorry, I am looking for my mother in law. Yuna?”
No reply.
He delicately peers through his fingers to find the bathroom empty. The stall doors are all open, revealing no one inside.
What the fuck?
Okay, now the panic is really setting in. Where is Yuna? Did she not make it here, somehow? Did she- oh god, could something have happened to her? Out here alone, in the dark, abandoned by him.
Stop it, he forces himself to take one painful breath in, she probably already went back inside.
Right. Surely that is it. She beat him out here and finished up before he found his way. It took him a bit to sort out this is where she’d be, and then to walk over. It makes sense.
Just as he’s about to head back toward the restaurant, praying he finds her at their table, a small sound gets his attention.
Normally, he probably would not have even noticed it. But his nervous system is in overdrive, he feels like he could hear a damn heartbeat from a mile away.
And this sound he hears, coming from behind the bathrooms, it sounds like a whimper.
Ilya whirls on his heel, moving in the direction of the noise. He isn’t sure what he’s expecting to find, but he rounds the corner behind the building, and blood drains from his face.
There, with her back pressed up against the exterior wall of the bathroom building, is Shane’s mother. The man, with one hand over her mouth and the other wrapped around her throat, doesn’t seem to notice Ilya’s appearance. He’s dressed in all black, with a hat low on his head and a large windbreaker.
Yuna’s eyes dart to the side, wide and panicked, one of them starting to swell with a purple bruise. He’s seen these eyes before, on Shane, one of the many times he’d been injured on the ice. It doesn’t take much to bruise him. It does take a lot to make him cry, and his mother is the same way.
He sees a tear roll down her cheek.
He isn’t sure what else he sees in that moment. Everything goes red.
Looking back, there are a few key details he remembers.
He remembers grabbing the man by the back of his neck, wondering how he likes to be manhandled against his will. He remembers throwing punches, so many that his knuckles began to feel numb. He remembers the man finally going down, body limp on the cold pavement, but still being unable to stop hitting him. He remembers thinking, I will not lose her.
He remembers the sound of Yuna crying his name being the only thing that pulls him out of the red haze.
Mama.
Ilya turns to her over his shoulder, blood smeared across his knuckles and the front of his jacket. Yuna is shaking, arms curled around herself like she’s trying to hold her heart inside of her chest. Tears streak her cheeks, mascara smudged all across her face.
She’s scared of you, he thinks numbly, unmoving as he still pins the now unconscious man down.
“Ilya,” Yuna sobs, reaching her hands out for him, “honey, please- he’s- it’s over. It’s over.”
Ilya glances between her black eye and the man on the ground. His teeth grit at the sight of her injured face. He wants to hit the man again for what he’s done to her. What he was going to do to her.
Christ, if Ilya hadn’t shown up…she was moments away from…
Stop it, his brain pleads desperately.
“Are you alright?” he asks, surprised by how gruff his own voice sounds.
Yuna nods immediately, still reaching her hands for him. “Yes, I’m okay. You got here in time, Ilya, everything is okay. Come here, come here baby.”
Ilya gets to his feet, stumbling toward her. He feels warm arms circle around him, heedless of the blood on his shirt and hands. He’s utterly still, afraid to embrace her back, afraid of his own violence, afraid he might crush her in his grip.
“Are you okay?” he asks again, raspily.
“I’m okay,” she repeats through tears. “We have to call the police.”
“Okay,” he replies.
“Your phone, Ilya.” Yuna pulls back and brings her hand up to cup his cheek. “Honey, look at me. Your phone. We have to call the police.”
“Right, right.” Ilya nods, scrambling for his pockets. He’s alarmed by several missed calls from Shane, but he ignores them, putting the phone to his ear.
“Do you need police, fire or ambulance?” The voice on the line comes through immediately.
“Police,” Ilya replies, tucking Yuna against his side. Now, he does put an arm around her small shoulders, shielding her from the unconscious man. He’s still breathing, so Ilya knows he didn’t kill him.
“What is your location?”
“We are at Rips. We need police, there was an attempted assault on a woman.”
“Do you need an ambulance?”
Ilya glances down at the man, grimacing. “Yes. I stopped him.”
“Sir? Is someone injured?”
“Yes. Very.”
He loses track of the rest of the call. By the time they disconnect, Yuna’s tears have dried, and she’s looking up at his face with worry written all over her expression.
“Are you okay?” is all he can think to ask. A stupid question, he knows. And he’s already asked it twice.
“I’m okay,” Yuna says again, still pressed against his side. “We have to call David, and Shane. They must be worried.”
On the ground, the man groans.
“You shut the fuck up, do not move!” Ilya presses his sneaker against the man’s calf, even though there is really no way he’s getting up. Yuna’s arm tightens around his waist.
Ilya’s hands are shaking as he presses Shane’s contact on the phone. In the distance, he hears sirens.
“Ilya.” Shane’s voice is relieved when he speaks through the receiver. “Thank god. Where are you guys?”
“You and David need to walk out back toward the bathrooms,” he says, trying to keep his voice level. “I think I am about to be arrested.”
“What?”
“Please. Just come.” Ilya pockets his phone and glances at Yuna as the police cars and ambulance begin to circle them.
“You aren’t going to be arrested,” she says, and he’s surprised at how certain she sounds.
“What’s going on here? You the ones who called?” The first officer is already speaking as he gets out of the car and saunters toward them. He goes a little more stiff when he sees the man on the ground, glancing at them with narrowed eyes.
“My name is Yuna Hollander.” She steps forward and extends her hand. “Please, let me explain what’s happened here.”
“Alright then,” the officer replies warily.
Shane and David show up just before Yuna can begin her story.
“Mom!” Shane exclaims, seeing her first. His eyes dart to the side as he spots Ilya and the man on the ground. Surely, all he’s noticing is the blood. “Ilya- jesus christ what-”
“Shane, I was just about to explain to the officers,” Yuna says gently. “Just hold on a minute. Everyone’s okay.”
“Yuna, honey.” David is moving toward her, fear icy in his voice. Ilya has never heard him so serious before.
Shane moves toward Ilya, hands reaching for his face. He cups both cheeks, thumb brushing along the bones. Their eyes meet. Shane’s are frightened. Ilya hates that he’s put that look on his face.
Quietly, with David’s arm around her shoulders, Yuna explains everything to the police.
Shane and David both grow visibly horrified as she continues on, depicting her story of being accosted after leaving the bathroom. When she fought back, the man began to hit her. He was choking her when Ilya found them, and he rightfully removed the threat.
Ilya isn’t sure how she manages it, but somehow, the police do not arrest him. They tell him to be ready to come in for questioning, but they leave with the unconscious man in their backseat, and Ilya home free.
A hospital visit is encouraged by the EMTs, after they give the assaulter his first aid. Yuna tries to insist she’s fine, as does Ilya, but they both end up being carted to the ER in the ambulance with David and Shane following behind. The ride there is quiet, neither of them speak, but halfway there Yuna reaches over and threads her fingers through Ilya’s.
She squeezes him hard. He squeezes back.
They are separated in the emergency department, though reunited with their respective partners. Shane doesn’t say much during Ilya’s -unnecessary- exam, just hovers nervously, wringing his hands together and staring intently at the doctor. Of course, it’s determined he’s fine. He doesn’t even have any damage in his hand from throwing punches. He is a hockey player who comes from an abusive household, this is not the first fight he’s been in, not by a long shot.
After he’s cleared, he and Shane wait in the lobby for Yuna. Shane keeps glancing sideways at him, clearly nervous by the way he’s fidgeting, but he says nothing. He must sense tonight that Ilya is not in a place to talk about it yet. At least he doesn’t seem frightened of Ilya. Or if he does, he’s hiding it well. Sometimes it’s hard to tell exactly what Shane is thinking. That can be fun when it inspires Ilya to investigate, but sometimes it’s unnerving, like right now.
Finally, Yuna and David walk back into the lobby. She looks okay, a little bruised and walking a bit stiffly, but up on two feet. Her hair is pulled back in a clip, one of the staff must have done that for her.
“Mom!” Shane is on his feet in an instant, moving toward her. He hesitates before touching, like he’s afraid to press on an unseen injury.
“I’m alright,” she assures him with a soft smile. “Just a few bruises. Nothing a good cup of coffee and a long night of sleep won’t fix.”
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” Shane says, voice a little wrecked.
“Honey, you don’t have to be sorry, how could you have known?” Yuna shakes her head, cupping Shane’s cheek. She brushes her thumb across his freckles, smiling. “Besides, Ilya was there. Everything is fine.”
Shane glances over his shoulder, big brown eyes softening now that he’s seen his mother is alright. Now, somehow, Ilya does recognize the emotion his normally flat face is conveying.
Gratitude.
“Thank god,” he mutters, turning back to her.
“I spoke with some of the officers while Yuna was being examined. That man is being charged with assault,” David says, addressing them both now, though Ilya hasn’t moved from his spot.
“Good.” Shane wrings his hands together, glancing back at his mom’s face. “Seriously, Mom are you…I mean, are you okay?”
“Yes, baby.” She leans in and pulls Shane against her for a quick hug. He allows it, exhaling as he rests his cheek in her hair.
Ilya can’t help but watch, transfixed in that way he always is by the sight of mother and son, still lucky enough to be together after all these years. Shane and his mother have gotten more than twice the amount of time together that he got with his mama. It is bittersweet at times. He’s mostly entranced and enamored with their beautiful relationship, but also a bit jealous and ugly about it at times.
He tries not to let the latter be known.
Yuna leans around him and directs her eyes at Ilya. “You, come on now, get in here.” Her arm extends toward him, and she motions expectantly. Shane follows her lead, opening his embrace toward Ilya.
There isn’t much else to do but shakily get to his feet and move toward them, letting out a surprised grunt when they both pull him in for a group hug that is unrelenting. Everyone smells like sweat and hospital and the putrid scent of a terrible, long night. He’s afraid to squeeze Yuna too tightly, for fear of exacerbating her injuries. He can’t help but wonder if they might be afraid of him now, after seeing what he did, or if maybe they resent him for letting her go alone to the bathroom at all. It feels like his fault.
How could he be so irresponsible with this mother, when he already lost his own?
“Thank you,” Yuna breathes into his ear. “I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you, honey. You saved me.”
You saved me.
Ilya swallows back a sob, chest feeling wrecked open at her words. If only his own mother could have said that to him. If only he’d gotten to her just as quickly…
“I am so glad you are okay,” he manages to get out. “I am sorry…I am sorry-”
“No,” she interjects. “No sorries, sweetheart. Not for anything. Thank you.”
“I love you,” he says, before he can think too much about it.
“I love you too,” she replies without hesitation.
“I love you both.” Shane leans in to kiss each of their cheeks before slowly untangling them from the hug. “Alright, I’m sure you want to get home Mom.”
Yuna laughs quietly. “I wouldn’t mind it, yeah.”
David and Yuna leave first, heading out to the parking lot for their car. Shane and Ilya watch them go, keeping eyes on the pair until the car disappears from the parking lot. Shane calls them an Uber and it arrives quickly.
The ride home is quiet.
When they step through the front door, Ilya is immediately tackled by their rambunctious pup. Anya comes bounding over, barking and licking at his face. He submits, dropping to his knees and allowing her to get slobber all over him.
“Hello, dochenka,” he greets her lovingly, running his fingers through the scruff of hair on her neck. Luckily they’d given him a spare shirt at the hospital and disposed of his bloodied one, so she doesn’t get a snout full of biohazard.
“Babe.” Shane’s hands press gently into Ilya’s shoulders, and he looks up into big brown eyes. “Let’s take a shower.”
“Okay.” Ilya is nodding, accepting the outstretched hand as Shane extends it to him. He allows himself to be pulled to his feet, wobbling only slightly, and follows Shane through the house. Anya trails behind him, paws padding against the floor.
They make it to the master bathroom, where Shane turns on the shower. Ilya leans against the doorframe as steam fills the room. Shane likes to shower with the water fucking scalding, something that used to be a thorn in his side, but he’s gotten used to now. Ilya would melt into a tiny little puddle if it means getting to shower with his husband.
“Well?” Shane turns to him, arching an eyebrow as he begins to strip his clothing off. “Aren’t you coming?”
“If I ever say no to that,” Ilya says as he starts undressing, “call police, I have been kidnapped and you are talking to a clone.”
Shane laughs, shaking his head as he steps into the shower with Ilya close on his heels. He’d sprung for an upgraded shower when it came time to have Shane move in, doing a few remodels to make it a more comfortable place for two. Dual waterfall shower heads, so no one is standing in the cold and shivering, being a number one priority.
Shane exhales, leaning back when Ilya circles his arms around his waist. Ilya presses a soft kiss to his damp hair, pulling him close. It’s quiet for a few moments, both of them just taking in the soft leisure of the moment after such a harrowing night.
Then, quietly, Shane murmurs, “you saved my mom’s life, Ilya.”
The words are not said with any particular intonation, any awe or disbelief. Shane isn’t one to express much emotion in his speech patterns.
But the gravity of what he’s said settles between them, large and immovable.
Ilya does not say what he is thinking. Why couldn’t I have saved my own mom, then?
Instead, he tries to laugh it off. “Of course, Hollander. I am big and strong hockey player. No one would mess with me.”
“Ilya.” Shane turns now, blinking up through the water to look at his face. “You saved her. I…I don’t even know what to fucking say. Thank you doesn’t really feel like it covers it, I-”
“I am sorry I let it happen,” Ilya manages, voice weak as the facade starts to crumble. “She was alone because of me, I let her go, I-”
“Hey, hey.” Shane reaches up and cups his cheek, gently stroking a thumb over his warm skin. “You saved her, Ilya.”
“No.” Ilya shakes his head, tears beginning to spill from his eyes. “I didn’t. She died. I didn’t save her. I did not save her.”
The tears build slowly, until he finds himself sobbing. Shane looks dumbfounded, wrapping his arms around Ilya’s back and pulling him in.
“Hey, hey, shh, it’s okay.” Shane rubs a hand gently between his shoulder blades, burying his face in Ilya’s neck. “Hey, you’re okay. Just breathe.”
“I-I’m sorry- I-”
“No, no sorries baby. Just breathe. I’m right here. Everything’s okay.”
“I did not save her, I didn’t-”
“You couldn't have.”
“I should have-”
“You were just a child.”
“But, she-”
“Baby.” Shane nudges his nose tenderly against Ilya’s jaw, adjusting them until their eyes meet. Ilya’s are blurry with humiliating tears, but he makes out Shane’s concerned face through the haze. “You’re thinking about your mom, I know. I’m so sorry, baby. I’m so sorry you couldn’t save her. But it isn’t your fault. It wasn’t like tonight, there was nothing you could have done.”
Ilya tries to nod his understanding. Logically, he knows Shane is right. He’s been to therapy about these exact issues. But tonight brought up strange, hard to explain feelings.
“I know, I know.” Shane pulls him in again, fingers tangling in his curls as he quietly shushes him. “I know baby, it’s okay. Just cry, Ilya. I’m here. It’s okay.”
Ilya does. He just cries. He doesn’t know what else to do with all of these feelings that are beating against his sternum. It pours out of him, wracking his chest with miserable, wet sobs. He’s sure it’s pitiful, but embraced in Shane’s strong arms, he’s not as embarrassed as he should be. He feels safe. He feels like he is home.
After he’s managed to settle, Shane brushes some damp hair off his forehead and smiles a bit sadly. “I’m sorry she isn’t here, Ilya. I know how lucky I am that my mom still is. And I know it isn’t the same, but, we both love you so much. I just hope you know…even though your mom isn’t here, there’s no shortage of people who love you.”
Ilya sniffs, letting out a broken laugh. “She would like that you are saying this to me.”
“I mean it.” Shane leans up and presses his lips against Ilya’s, slow and deliberate. “Thank you for being such a good son and such a good husband. We all love you so fucking much.”
Ilya exhales, dropping his forehead down until it knocks against Shane’s. It’s quiet for a beat, only the sound of the shower water cascading across their bodies and on to the tiled floor.
“I love you too,” Ilya manages. That doesn’t fix anything, of course. The pain is still there- raw and present and real. It eats at him a little bit every day, sometimes it takes such big chunks he doesn’t know if he’ll ever be whole again.
But he has a family now. And they aren't going anywhere.
“Come on.” Shane grabs their body wash and Ilya's loofah, still smiling. “Let me take care of you. We’ll finish up, then go eat cookies n’cream ice cream and watch Fast and Furious.”
Ilya sniffs, hesitating. “Can we watch Fast Five?”
Shane rolls his eyes with a good-natured chuckle. “Yes, baby, whatever you want.”
“Okay.” Ilya manages his own delicate smile in return, brushing his thumb along the constellation of freckles on Shane’s cheek. “I am so happy I have you.”
His words are simple, but their effect on Shane is clear. He softens, eyes going all big and glimmery. Shane’s lip quivers a bit, but he bites it to keep it steady. Ilya loves when he does that, still bashful somehow after all of these years of loving one another.
“I am so happy I have you,” Shane replies in a warm voice. “Now, bend over so I can wash your butt cheeks.”
Ilya bursts out laughing, immediately fighting off Shane’s loofah attack, which makes him bust up too. The shower is filled with the sounds of teasing, playfighting and boisterous giggles.
It’s so ridiculous, that something as simple as a hot shower and some teasing could make Ilya feel more centered in his body than anything else. But here, with Shane, he usually ends up feeling like he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be.
Even when things get scary and uncertain, all he has to do is find his way back to this very spot. Right by Shane’s side.
With his family.