ilya starting antidepressants and getting a lot of initial side effects. it’s bad enough that shane finds him sitting on the bathroom floor at two in the morning.
ilya is sitting curled beside the toilet, one arm folded across his stomach, the other resting against the seat like he’s been hovering there awhile.
shane stops in the doorway immediately.
ilya flinches slightly at the sound of his voice, like he’d forgotten other people existed.
he looks exhausted. pale in the dim light. his chest rises with slow measured inhales, like he’s trying not to make the nausea worse.
“hey,” shane says softly. “how long have you been in here?”
ilya shrugs weakly, which means too long.
shane reaches for him, fingers brushing gently against his cheek. ilya leans into the touch for exactly one second before squeezing his eyes shut hard.
“head hurts,” he says quietly.
shane’s hand slides up into his hair, thumb brushing his temple. “again?”
ilya lets out a humorless laugh. “what gave it away?”
another wave of nausea seems to hit because ilya closes his eyes briefly, breathing slower through his nose.
shane lowers himself to the floor beside him and ilya lets himself be pulled against his chest.
for awhile they stay like that.
shane’s hand moves slowly up and down his back. grounding him through each lingering wave of nausea whenever it hits. every time ilya tenses slightly, shane’s fingers tighten reassuringly against him.
eventually the queasiness seems to ease enough that ilya’s breathing evens out.
“think you can stand?” shane asks quietly.
ilya nods against his chest.
shane gets up first, then carefully helps him upright.
vertigo suddenly hits when ilya shifts his weight, enough that he grabs the edge of the bathroom countertop.
shane steadies him immediately. one hand at his back, the other gripping his waist.
ilya exhales shakily then suddenly looks so worn down.
“hey,” shane’s voice goes soft instantly. “none of that.”
shane keeps one arm firmly around him, guiding him carefully to their shared bedroom while ilya stays tucked close against his side.
the bedroom is dark except for moonlight spilling pale across the sheets. shane guides him down carefully onto the bed, then climbs in beside him without hesitation.
ilya folds against his chest, forehead tucked under shane’s chin while shane pulls the blankets over both of them. his body feels tense even now. wound tight under his skin.
for awhile neither of them says anything.
finally ilya speaks, voice muffled against his skin.
“what if the meds don’t work?”
“then we try different ones.”
“and if those don’t work?”
shane says it so simply. like there’s no universe where he leaves.
“i don’t want to feel like this anymore,” he whispers.
shane shifts just enough to cup his face, thumb brushing gently beneath his eye.
his eyes look exhausted, shining faintly in the dark.
“you’ve been carrying this by yourself for a long time,” shane says softly. “you don’t have to do that anymore.”
ilya’s expression crumples.
“what if nothing works?” his voice cracks suddenly. “what if i’m always going to feel like this?”
shane’s entire face changes.
“what if i’ll never be fixed?”, he says, a single tear running down his cheek.
the words come out so quiet shane almost misses them.
because ilya sounds terrified when he says it.
he pulls ilya closer instinctively, one hand cradling the back of his head.
ilya makes this small strangled sound and suddenly he’s crying against shane’s shoulder. exhausted, overwhelmed tears that seem ripped out of him against his will.
“hey hey,” he whispers, one hand rubbing firmly up and down his back. “it’s okay. c’mere.”
ilya shakes his head hard against his shoulder, embarrassed by it somehow.
“i’m trying so hard,” he says through sobs.
shane’s chest aches so badly he can barely breathe around it.
he presses slow kisses into ilya’s hairline, his temple, anywhere he can reach while he cries quietly against him.
“four weeks,” he whispers against ilya’s hair. “doctor said usually around four weeks things start getting easier. the headaches and nausea pass first. then the rest.”
ilya’s breathing stutters shakily.
shane tightens the blankets around both of them before pulling ilya impossibly closer, until there’s barely space left between their bodies at all.
shane keeps holding him long after the crying quiets.
long after ilya’s breathing finally starts to even out.
every so often he presses another soft kiss into his hair, whispering sleepy little "i love you"s into the dark while his fingers move slow and constant along ilya’s back.
and eventually, somewhere close to dawn, ilya finally falls asleep still curled tightly against his chest while shane holds him the entire night.
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