cottage - hollanov - @shanesummerfest - word count: 548 - click here to see my microfic archive!
Ilya had done his very best not to go absolutely feral when he’d heard Shane say it.
In the middle of a conversation with Ryan and Fabian, Fabian had asked what plans they had for the summer. It had been a simple question, full of innocence and curiosity, but when Shane had answered, "Yeah, sometimes we go to our cottage to get some time away," Ilya had nearly let out a very embarrassing squeak.
Shane had said "our cottage.”
Not his. Ours. As in they both owned it together.
It was stupid for him to get so excited about such a thing.
They had been dating for a while now, and they shared many small things. For example, they had bought a blanket for Ilya's place that they shared, bundling up under it together in the cold during the winter. They often bought bags of chips that they both stuck their hands into at the same time, arguing over who would get the next bite. Sometimes they even shared a tub of ice cream, or decided to order out and share meals together. These things also qualified as ‘ours:’ things that belonged to both of them together, things they had co-custody of.
For some reason, though, he had nearly melted on the spot when the word "ours" had come out of Shane's mouth in front of someone else, when referring to such a big possession. It had felt so much more real.
Luckily, Fabian and Ryan had gone to the bathroom soon after the conversation, leaving Ilya time to turn to his boyfriend and pin him to the booth with his gaze.
“What?” Shane asked, huffing a little and giving him his customary smile that oozed both annoyance and amusement.
"Our cottage," Ilya replied, unable to stop grinning.
“Yeah, have you heard of it?” Shane retorted back, smirking and raising his eyebrow. “It's that place where my dad walked in on us and–”
Ilya cut him off, waving his hand. “Yes, yes, I remember. Please do not remind me.”
“It's also the place where I regularly kick your ass at video games and had to teach you how to kayak because, for some reason, you didn't know how,” Shane beamed. “Oh, and it's the place where you figured out you're afraid of birds.” Shane laughed, eyes sparkling, and Ilya shoved him a little bit.
"I know where the cottage is, Shane," he replied, rolling his eyes. "I just mean, you called it ours, not yours. Ours."
Shane tilted his head a little like a confused puppy, as if the idea of calling the cottage anything else was asinine. “Of course it's ours,” he said. “It's like…our safe place. It belongs to you as much as it belongs to me because it's the place that we can be most ourselves.”
Ilya’s heart melted at that, and he resisted the urge to kiss the life out of his boyfriend right there in the middle of the restaurant.
“It's just nice,” he said, trying not to tear up, “to hear that we have so many things that are ours.”
Shane grinned. “Does this mean some day you're willing to get a cat that's ours, too?”
Ilya snorted, shoving him again. “A dog or nothing, Shane. A dog or nothing.”
