æmelia

The Strike, the pause

The message from God

All Ilya has to do is press the little button above his seat and in a matter of seconds a beautiful man will come stand in front of Ilya and ask what he can do for him. A beautiful man with beautiful freckles and shining brown eyes and biceps that had flexed tantalizingly when he'd helped an older woman with her overhead luggage during boarding. And not Ilya, no. He'll ask what he can do for Mr. Rozanov.

It's honestly almost too much. (Almost.)

The first couple of calls had seemed innocent enough, and the flight attendant ("SHANE," his name tag helpfully provides) had been the picture of customer service as he arrived at Ilya's seat with a pasted-on pleasant smile and confidently strode up and down the aisle to bring him a hot towel, a snack, an extra blanket, and always "if there's anything else I can do, sir, please let me know." Ilya had never appreciated the phrase "hate to see them go, love to watch them leave" more.

By the fifth call in the space of an hour, Shane seems to be getting suspicious. His smile has taken on a wry edge as he approaches Ilya's seat, but Ilya maintains perfect innocence as he asks Shane if he can close his window shade.

Shane stops just short of rolling his eyes. "Mr. Rozanov, I have a feeling you're more than capable of closing a window shade on your own."

Ilya shrugs, eyes wide in put-upon bewilderment. "It's stuck! I cannot budge it."

Shane sighs as he braces one hand on Ilya's armrest leans across him to pull the shade down (easily, of course). Ilya tries not to be too obvious as he breathes Shane in, reveling in having him so close, but Shane must sense it anyway because he freezes as he starts to pull away, looking back at Ilya warily as if he's not quite sure what his game is.

"Ah, my hero," Ilya praises softly. "I knew you could do it."

Ilya watches Shane swallow hard before he straightens up. "Anything else I can do for you, Mr. Rozanov?" he asks, a slight waver in his voice.

"Not right now, thank you, Shane. But I'll let you know next time I need you." Ilya points to the button above his head and winks, smiling at the way it makes Shane flush before he hurries away.

Ilya decides not to press the button for over an hour after that, just to see, and the way it makes Shane slowly grow more and more antsy is simply delicious. Ilya can tell he's itching for Ilya's next call, nervously shifting his eyes over to Ilya as he assists other passengers.

After about forty-five minutes, Ilya is playing a game on his phone when he senses Shane next to him and looks up, where he's nervously biting his lip. "Mr. Rozanov, I just wanted to let you know that we'll be starting beverage service shortly. I'll be busy with the cart for a while, so if there's anything you might need..."

He's so beautifully nervous. He's being so wonderfully good. Ilya rewards him with an honest smile, one that seems to put Shane at ease. "Thank you, Shane. I will be fine."

Shane breathes out, returning Ilya's smile. "Ok, cool. I'll, uh, check on you later, ok?"

"Ok. Thank you."

When Shane comes with the beverage cart, he asks for Shane's number. He's never seen anyone flush more prettily as he writes it down on an airline cocktail napkin and signs it "xx Shane."

~~

a breastplate made of silver linings by Anonymous (2,932 words, rated T)

“Be careful,” Shane frets, one hand hovering over Ilya’s shoulder. “It’s icy, and I don’t want to be a widower.”

“Oh, we’d have to be much higher than this for the fall to kill me,” Ilya says, gaze still fixed on the cool black skyline. “At least seven stories.”

It’s not until much later, as the waitress is clearing the dishes from dinner, that Yuna finds herself wondering why Ilya knows exactly how high a fall needs to be in order to kill him. 

Or: Yuna learns about Ilya's past bit by bit over the years.

bubblewrap me, baby by Anonymous (3,619 words, rated M)

Ilya is sipping a cappuccino and watching Shane do very perverted yoga when he realizes that he doesn’t want to die.

It’s a dumb series of thoughts. He sees Shane bend over, neatly folding himself into a hunchback as his hands flatten by his feet, and Ilya thinks, I bet he’s going to love it when we’re old and grey and he can outrace me with my stupid hip replacement. And then he realizes that not only does he anticipate being old and grey enough to need a hip replacement, but that he actually wants to get there.

Or: the existential crisis that happens when you’ve been depressed your whole life and then realize, suddenly, in your thirties, that you’re happy enough with your life that you no longer want to die.

the art of long-term cohabitation by Anonymous (5,546 words, rated E)

“Sometimes, I wish he was a worse person,” Ilya admits one night, while he and Yuna are doing the dishes. Shane and Ilya had come over for chicken parmesan, and it had been a lovely dinner, right up until David, clearing the plates, mentioned that he had met a guy at the store the other day who was a big fan of Shane’s, had a kid who idolized him.

David asked if Shane could sign a piece of merchandise for him, maybe record a video. Shane said yes, because he had a rule, about doing things for child fans. Now, Shane was off shooting a video while Ilya did the dishes, and Ilya already knew the way it would require Shane to drag his public face up from the depths of his stomach, the work it would take him to shed it afterwards, the way it would taint this evening.

contingency plans by @anincompletelist (8,339 words, rated T)

Shane's eyes squeeze closed again. “We had reason to put rules in place. Protocol. If ever—if it got to a place where, if he was ever feeling like he might—"

Hayden’s body understands before his mind catches up. His blood runs cold for a second, stuck on the scrunch of Shane’s face, the clench of his fist, how desperate he’d been to see Rozanov—Ilya—just now. To make sure that he was okay. Here, in person.

Not hurt. Alive.

“Oh,” Hayden hears himself say distantly. “Oh, fuck, Shane.”

or, Ilya needs a place to go, and Hayden's happens to be the closest. It turns out to be a good thing.

the suicidal duckling by Anonymous (9,704 words, rated E)

Ilya had thought it was dumb, when Galina suggested it. A code word for when his mental health was bad—he and Shane didn’t even have a code word for sex, and Ilya was regularly tying Shane to the bed and slapping his ass until it was as red as a tomato.

“Is there a reason you’re calling me?” Shane asks now, voice echoey over the phone. “Or is this part of your strategy to win our argument?”

Ilya swallows hard. “Constantinople,” he says.

Or: Ilya goes through a rough patch.

knockout by @penandinkprincess (10,060 words, rated T)

“That’s not-” Shane starts, but he stops himself. Ilya tilts his head slightly in question, but Shane bites the inside of his cheek and then shakes his head slightly, cheeks flushing. “I do trust you,” Shane says.

“But not with your car?” Ilya asks. “You are afraid I will drive all the boring out of it?”

Shane rolls his eyes.

“It’s a good car-” He starts in another refrain of one of his favorite summer songs.

Ilya rolls them and pins his boyfriend under him before he has to hear about four wheel drive and gas mileage again.

There are far better uses for Shane’s mouth, after all.

(in which ilya learns that being a passenger in the car knocks shane tf out)

wait for a different ending by @garagepaperback (12,562 word, rated M)

Ilya goes to Moscow, and then he goes back home.

pain's like cold water (your brain just gets used to it) by @somniatic (13,047 words, rated T)

One morning, Ilya wakes up and he can't get out of bed. He knows he should be worried about this, but he can't quite find the energy.

(Ilya has a bad weekend. Shane is there to help.)

the weather of your youth by Anonymous (14,171 words, rated E)

"Sveta," he says, before she can greet him. "I think I'm about to do something very stupid."

"You're always doing something stupid," she laughs, her voice tinny over the speakerphone. "What is it this time?"

"I am in a staring contest with a bottle of pills," Ilya says. "And I think the pills might win."

Or: An alternate take on Ilya's mental health after moving to Ottawa, featuring the reality of long distance relationships, Ilya learning to captain a new team, and a series of game tapes made by Ilya's dead father.

The Axiom of Equality by kooksie (18,895 words, rated E)

Ilya hurts Shane.

It’s an accident, of course, but his mind goes to the only place it knows how afterwards: He deserves to hurt too.

a winner at heart by @ellisonwongparty (32,053 words, rated E)

Ilya laughs. He finds that once he starts, he can't stop. He laughs at the fact that he's in France with Shane Hollander. He laughs at the fact he's Shane Hollander's boyfriend. He laughs at the fact that he gave up Moscow for a better life, only to end up in fucking Ottawa. 

Ilya's dick stops working one month before he's supposed to leave for the South of France. 

continuity errors/tuesday again by Anonymous (32,873 words, rated M)

The first thing you should know about time loops is that they’re really fucking hard to break. The second thing is that you can never break one in such a way that it is incapable of returning.

The third thing you should know is that everyone around you has probably been stuck in a time loop at one point or another, and they made it out alive. This is only comforting if you’re a numbers guy, or if you’re the kind of guy who talks to others about how it feels to live the same day over and over and over and over and over and over again.

BBC Merlin (2008-2012)