la valse du temps.

And I can’t help but think “what if he keeps going down this path?”. Like, of course, in public he’ll still perform as Rozanov, Asshole Russian Menace.

He does like chirping other players on the ice, rile them up, and then show them time and time again that he’s the best player. That’s a huge part of him. But having to pretend he’s that cliché Straight Virile Man who has a different girl in his bed every night is getting more and more exhausting.

Time spent in private with Shane is like coming up for air. Because *Shane*, obviously, but also because he doesn’t have to pretend. He can wear the tightest, slightly-too-short tank tops and soft loose sweaters. The holes in his ears he got as teenage rebellion get used again to put pretty dangly earrings in them. The slight lilt he has in his voice when speaking Russian becomes noticeable in English too, when he teases Shane. There’s a hip popped, a hand on it, a brow arched, when he’s being sarcastic. That’s who he is, too.

It’s always been there, carefully, consciously hidden. And letting it out, even if it’s just in front of one person, his Shane, makes him feel whole, finally. At least for the time being.

And Shane? He’s trying to keep his cool but every little change (or more like, every little thing that Ilya doesn’t hide anymore) is making him fall more and more in love.

The possessive part of him is screaming “mine”, “no one else gets to see that version of Ilya and that’s good because he’s Mine”. But an even bigger part of him wishes he could show the world how Ilya is so much more than what everyone thinks. How bright he shines, when he doesn’t have to hide.

Shane and Ilya became friends in college and decided to live together after graduation to save money. Shane had a little crush on Ilya since the day they met but who wouldn’t ? Ilya’s funny, witty, incredibly kind under his asshole-ish ways, and, of course, as beautiful as a Greek god. But Ilya’s also the best friend Shane ever had, and is definitely not interested in dating, if the string of one-night-stands he’s entertaining is any indication.

So Shane has a plan : move in with his favorite person, start dating, find a lovely boyfriend who makes him forget his fleeting infatuation, remain friends with Ilya forever. Simple, efficient.

Except Shane starts dating, through apps and mutual friends and he’s always so disappointed. Something’s missing even with the guys his friends and coworkers depicted as “nice, kind, you’ll love him.”

Ever since he started hanging out with Ilya, Shane got used to having someone around who cares. Who remembers his coffee order perfectly after hearing it once, who knows which foods’ textures Shane likes or avoids like the plague, who sends a text to his parents for their birthday and their anniversary.

Once they start living together, his favorite brand of everything is always stocked up. He never has to give Ilya a list, Ilya simply starts shopping for the things that make Shane’s life easier. Every time he wakes up on the couch after falling asleep in front of the tv show they were watching, there’s a soft blanket on his legs, where he runs cold. Ilya knows the names of all of Shane’s coworkers, if they have a cat or a dog. He knows exactly how to hug Shane after a rough day, and how to ask Shane for cuddles if he is the one going through a tough time.

Sometimes Shane has a nice enough first date that he agrees to a second one. And the guy tries to order for him, in an attempt to be cute, but it’s all wrong. Or he can’t even remember which field Shane works in. Or he hugs him too tightly, with his hands too high on his ribs. One lucky man makes it to a third date but makes a dismissive comment about Shane ordering the same dish he did last time.

All Shane can think of is Ilya cooking the previous morning, making a huge batch of Shane’s favorite roasted chicken recipe with homemade tomato sauce, so Shane can have it for lunch everyday this week. He sends a text to Ilya “please call me, pretend there’s an emergency.” It’s not truly a lie, Shane urgently doesn’t wanna be here any longer. Thirty minutes later he enters their flat to find a worried Ilya.

Ilya isn’t going out as much as he used to, lately. He went through a rough patch the previous year, ending up diagnosed with depression. Therapy, meds and a solid support system helped him through it, and he’s been steadily doing better for a few months now. But he rarely partied anymore. When Shane asked him about it, Ilya said he didn’t feel the need to anymore, with a soft smile. Shane loved spending more cosy nights at home with him, even if it didn’t help his crush.

And right now, Ilya is sitting him on the couch, and handing him a freshly brewed cup of his favorite tea, which is definitely making things worse. This. This is what he wants in his life. Not any of these men he wasted precious evenings on. None of them ever came close. When Ilya sits next to him, brings Shane’s legs onto his knees and start massaging his calves (never his feet, because it makes Shane icky), Shane bursts into tears.

Immediately, Ilya stops his ministrations, brings Shane even closer to hug him, guide his head to Ilya’s shoulder. “Shane, what happened tonight? Did that man do something?” There’s barely repressed anger in his voice. Shane shakes his head. “No, nothing bad happened. He wasn’t awful, he just..” He tries to catch his breath and more tears roll on his cheeks. “He wasn’t you.” Shit. He didn’t mean to say that. Shane feels Ilya’s whole body tensing against him. His arms squeeze Shane a little tighter. It feels really nice, when it’s Ilya hugging him like that.

“Shane, what do you mean ?” Ilya sounds almost out of breath, like he just ran a mile or is terrified of speaking too loud, of breaking the moment. Shane could try to spin it, say something about friendship. But Ilya is still holding him close and when Shane looks up from the shoulder he was resting on, Ilya eyes are … hopeful ? They have that same intensity Shane’s grown familiar with over the years, the one that means he’s hanging on to Shane’s next words when he’s telling Ilya a story.

So Shane takes a deep breath, and let the words flow. “Every date I go to, it’s never awful but it’s never good. Because anything they do, I can’t help but compare it to how you take care of me.” Ilya’s mouth is slightly open, his stare burning into Shane. He lets out a small depreciating laugh, closes his eyes. He still feels Ilya’s eyes on him as he continues. “I’ve had a crush on you for years, did you know ? And I wanted to meet someone, get over it, because I don’t ever want to ruin our friendship. But living with you, it’s so perfect. You’re so perfect to me, you take care of me so well. Tonight you helped me, no questions asked, then you do everything I’d want from a partner. I realized I can never settle for less, I’m doomed.” He feels fresh tears gathering at his lash line. “I’m sorry Ilya.”

A soft but firm hand grips his chin, tilting it up. He forces his eyes open. Ilya is looking at him, a wobbly smile on his lips. “It’s good. I don’t want you to be with a mediocre man. I don’t want you to be with any of these men. You should not try to get over your crush anymore.” “Ilya…?” The smile gets bigger, Ilya’s eyes a little misty too. “You should be with me, Shane. We spend the evening together, try a boring restaurant if you want, and you fall asleep on the couch and I carry you to our bed and we make disgusting smoothies together in the morning.”

Shane would think he was dreaming, if Ilya’s arms weren’t still holding him so perfectly. “You’re serious ?” Ilya nods. “Be my boyfriend. I don’t go to clubs anymore because no one there is you. Therapy made me realize. But it still took a long time, and you had your dates. So I didn’t say. I’m sorry.” “Oh Ilya..” It’s Shane’s turn to embrace him, as tightly as he can. There’s the softest pressure on his cheek, a gentle kiss from Ilya. He turns his head to the side so their lips can meet.

And this is it. What he’s been looking for all along. Their kisses feel like coming home, like the natural progression of their friendship. They’re also new, exciting, spreading a fire through Shane’s belly. It could only be Ilya.

When they finally separate, they’re half panting, catching up their breath. Ilya’s cheeks are flushed, his hair mussed from Shane’s hands in them. He’s never been more beautiful. “So, our bed, you said ?” Shane was wrong, that blinding grin is even more stunning. “Yeah, we keep your bed, your mattress is far better.” Shane laughs. “Let’s try that, shall we?”