N°81

@adragpcth asked: fine. you were right, and i was wrong. happy now? {{ from Ilya, to Shane! }} From my meme tag || always accepting

"...No! No, that is--- that is not--- Jesus Christ."

Shane has to breathe through at that one, does so with the peak precision of a man who's been meditating and doing yoga on the regular for well over a decade at this point. He closes his eyes, inhales, holds his breath, then exhales it long and slow, steady, measured, from between slightly parted lips.

Okay, okay. Lets give this another try.

"Ilya." Softer now, less agitated, Shane blinks his eyes back open to look at the other - taking in the sight, jaw working, brows knit ever so gently but having since lost some of the tension that had lingered within his previous expression. "...It's not about who was right or who was wrong, okay? It's--"

Another pause, gaze flicking to the side, hands rubbing along the fabric of his shirt as they trail up and down his sides - subconsciously so, fidgeting, restless.

"---Sorry. I didn't mean to imply that you--- that this--- that this is about right or wrong. I really didn't mean to do that."

Shane means it and he hopes that his doe-eyed gaze brings it across that he's being sincere, honest, as he forces himself to look at Ilya yet again - trying to catch those bright irises with his own, biting his bottom lip.

His depression had made him more prone to anger, or emotional, which he had been able to keep inside for the most part. However the overwhelming pressure of keeping their relationship a secret for as long as they did, meant Ilya sometimes didn’t feel safe acknowledging Shane to other people, which would ultimately have him spiralling to an extent. The marriage had made it simpler but they still had moments where Ilya was just desperate to tell the world; screw the homophobia and hate they’d get. He had grown up with a father and brother who both hated him now.

“Well it seems that way.” He shrugged a bit, moving to look down at his phone in his lap. He couldn’t even really remember what they were arguing about now. Probably something menial in the house. He was having a particularly hard day mentally and all he wanted was for Shane to lay down with him. They didn’t have to talk. They could just lay together and appreciate the silence for once.

He had practically ran in the rain to get there, pushing his hood down as he walked inside. He was smacked in the face with the different floral scents; unable to pick any out specifically. They all looked beautiful, but he had no idea what ones would look good together in a bouquet.

He waited patiently when he heard the voice from the back of the store, brushing his hand through his curls and then moving it down to try and brush some of the dog hair off of his jumper. Working in the shelter was something he could only imagine himself doing. The dogs were a lot like him in a sense; just trying to find a home and someone to love eternally.

"Oh! Uh… hi," he stammers, forcing a small smile. "Sorry, I… I didn’t mean to keep you waiting. I just… uh… busy. Y’know. Flowers, uhm, right." His fingers fidget with the hem of his apron as his gaze flickers nervously between the customer and the vibrant blooms lining the shop.

The man’s question about flowers for dogs has Shane blinking at him, confused. Dogs? Flowers? For dogs? For the shelter? "Oh you mean safe for dogs?"

He shifts through the shop, reaching for some of the large-headed sunflowers to present to the man and carefully tugs one out. "So, dogs have a very sensitive nose, so I would recommend flowers that don't have a intense scent? Maybe sunflowers? They go well with cornflowers if you like that or Gerbera daisies?"

He swallows, cheeks warming just slightly, and glances down at a nearby bucket.

When he started talking, Ilya tried to focus as much as he could. He didn’t understand anything about flowers. He didn’t buy them, or at least hadn’t bought any since his father’s funeral and then his mother’s funeral before that. Flowers didn’t exactly have a happy correlation with him, but his manager had told him they’d be a good idea to spruce up the shelter.

“Yes safe for dogs. They might try to eat flowers, yes?” He felt like his English was lacking a lot now that he was distracted by this man and the way he obviously loved flowers. It was attractive.

“Sunflowers are pretty. I don’t know what daisies are or cornflowers, but they sound pretty too.” His lips moved into a frown as he looked at the other, trying to show that he was interested but he just didn’t understand what he was talking about. He really didn’t know why he had been sent when there were plenty of other guys or girls who worked at the shelter that would understand better.

{{ text to: Jane }} I wish I was drunk. {{ text to: Jane }} I’m outside. I do not have last couple of games with Boston until end of week, so why not come visit my boyfriend?

Yeah it felt good saying that. He liked having Shane Hollander as a boyfriend.

Ilya must be joking, Shane's brain keeps chiming in again and again, as he rereads those just received text messages for way too many times, in utter disbelief - there's no way he's traveled all the way from Boston to Montreal just to see him... right?

Shane's at the bedroom window within a second and a half, carefully pushing the curtains to the side to glance down at the pavement below. He can't see his front door from here, at least not very well, which means that not spotting anything (or anyone) isn't necessarily a solid proof for the other to be a liar... but in theory, if Ilya were to stay a few steps away from said door, he should be able to---

There he is, oh fuck. Shane can see the other standing there, looking down at what must be his own phone...

Ilya's truly here. Holy shit, he's here.

Shane's so excited (and surprised) by the sudden arrival of his boyfriend (it still feels unfamiliar to use that term, but it sounds so nice, truly does), that he doesn't even bother to put on a pair of pants; He would, under any other circumstances, but his usually so focused and logical brain is going mad at this very second and doesn't allow for Shane to think this through.

[ text -> Lily ] On my way!

He stumbles yet again on his way to his apartment door, immediately presses the buzzer to let the other in: Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, holy shit---

And as he waits for Ilya to make his way up, the one and only Shane Hollander is standing in his now opened door while only wearing a white t-shit, white socks and his black boxer briefs.

Fuck, he should've put some proper clothes on, right---?

When he heard the buzzing of the door to be let in, Ilya pushed the door open and made his way up the flight of stairs slowly. All he had brought with himself was a black carry on bag; a couple sets of clothes and some toiletries tucked into it. He knew he wouldn’t need much when he had started to leave things of his own at Shane’s place. He wasn’t claiming his spot outrightly, but he wanted Shane to know he felt comfortable enough to leave his things behind. He trusted them enough to know they’d be back together soon.

The sight of Shane in barely any clothes is a sight that he would pay a lot of money for, but luckily he didn’t have to pay for it. Shane Hollander was his boyfriend and he knew he could see him naked any time he wanted to.

{{ text to: my favorite rookie }} he gives good head yes but that is all /jk

{{ text to: my favorite rookie }} he is like little kitten who does not want to be put in bath

{{ text to: my favorite rookie }} he has good head yes Luca well done