this is my favorite tape!

They are quiet as they look at the screen, and Shane tips his head back with a long breath, resting his head on Ilya’s shoulder and their chests shift together, the tap drips in the sink. Ilya’s hand pushes away Shane’s hoodie to put his hand flat over the soft skin of Shane’s stomach. Shane sits up after another breath, and starts highlighting the shifts they cross over, the time they could find at the hospital, crossing over as they arrive for and leave from shift.

Fondness washes over Ilya then, so immense that he rubs the curve of Shane’s waist, tucks his nose and lips to the back of Shane’s neck and watches over his shoulder as his boyfriend carefully finds every pocket of time they can have. Ilya pushes his nose into the short hairs st Shane’s neck, takes a long breath in, seaweed shampoo, soap and warmth.

His Shane.

He tucks his smile behind Shane’s ear as Shane mutters about him being distracting. Ilya slips his fingertips down into the waistband of Shane’s sweatpants, hand resting still. He doesn’t move, still until Shane fusses his hips slightly and Ilya smirks. “No distractions” he replies and Shane huffs, Ilya slips his fingertips a centimetre down. It becomes a game and soon the meeting is very much over and the laptop is on the floor and Ilya is forcing Shane’s hip still with one hand as he works his cock with the other.

Ilya makes a screenshot of the calendar his screensaver on the first of the month, (he’s really to blame that the sight of it makes him half hard, thinking of shane all squirmy and flushed and cute in his lap as he tries hard to stay still for Ilya as Ilya works him over in a slow and tight grip).

The night before their rosters seperate them, they spend it mostly in bed, a long sleep in together, lazy cosy morning sex- then gym and a long hot shower and getting off together again like that, kissing under the hot water all hands and mouths. Then it’s back to bed with promises from Ilya he will help Shane meal prep later “later sweetheart I promise but we won’t get to fall asleep together so many nights, I’ll forget the shape of you, the feel of you, you’ll be a distant memory while I hold Benjamin close and cry-“ and a slap of shanes hand to the side of his head which had turned into grappling which had turned into play fighting which had turned into more sex.

The start first week isn’t so bad, just like a misaligned run of shifts in any other month, which happens often. But then it stretches into six days without seeing each other, opposite routines of sleeping and waking and they both start to feel lonely. Feel the space between them, the coming home to an empty bed. The catching texts and calls in the hours they are both awake.

Finally on the sixth day, they overlap Ilya is coming to the end his day shift and shane is coming in for his night. Shane is so excited at the thought of being able to actually see Ilya, he finds himself parked in the carpark a full hour before shift starts. Usually the absolute earliest he’d get there is thirty minutes before. He texts Ilya a ljttle “👋🏼.”Who texts back “😚😚😚😚 already????” Which makes Shane flush, happy to know Ilya is as eager as he is at the prospect of seeing each other.

“P3 level 1” Shane replies, because he usually parks in the further carpark P6 because it’s cheaper, but P3 is just on the edge of the back exit of the main building, and Shane just figures it might be easier to see ilya for longer this way.

It takes Ilya four minutes to be opening Shane’s passenger side door, a few droplets of misty rain in his curls.

He smells like the hospital, but still a bit like his cologne and his cheeks are pink and just curls are messy and he’s smirking and saying “come here often?” But Shane is across the dash before Ilya’s favourite line is fully out.

His hand cups Ilya’s cheek and he’s pressing their lips together, firm but civil, closed lipped, a soft lock of mouths. Ilya hums against his mouth, a pleased sound and leans into the kiss just as Shane pulls back a breath, noses still pressed together.

“Hi, sorry” Shane mumbles, and his eyes are staring at Ilya’s mouth, teeth worrying at his bottom lip. “I just missed you” he confesses and Ilya hums, his hand cups the back of Shane’s neck and he kisses soft pretty pecks all over his pouty mouth.

“No sorry. Is cute” Ilya mutters, one hand finding Shane’s to fiddle with, pulling it into his lap, tracing the back of his hand with his thumb.

“I missed you too” Ilya adds, kisses to the left of Shane’s nose, his Cupids bow, his chin.

“Really?” Shane asks, voice low and Ilya laughs, nuzzles his face into Shane’s cheek.

“Yes, really can you believe it?” Ilya whispers and his hand catches Shane’s cheek, thumb gripping his cheek gently, making his lips pout just so.

“Missed you” Ilya exhales again, and leans forward to kiss Shane’s pout once, twice, a third time before they fall into a warm kiss, too much for the carpark at work Ilya realises when he feels a soft whimper from Shane into his mouth. Ilya pulls back and Shane huffs and Ilya nods, moves his hand to the back of Shane’s neck. His hand scuffed gently, squeezing the back of his neck, thumb rubbing at his hairline.

They breathe in silence for a while, like that, soft and slow, Ilya rubbing at the back of Shane’s warm neck and Shane’s hand tangled with his fidgeting against his thigh.

Shane turns his head in, knocks his nose against Ilya’s cheek and is pulling back with a slow breath in. His eyes are lidded low, warm and Ilya wants to drag him into the back seat, lay him back and kiss and bite at his hips until Shane is fussing and pulling at his hair and asking for his mouth-

Ilya swallows and rubs his thumb across Shane’s bottom lip, knocks their noses together and pulls back enough to catch Shane’s eyes. His lashes are dark, long and Ilya maps the pretty pattern of his freckles.

“Missed you a lot I think” Shane says with a small huffing laugh and Ilya nods, thumbs his thumb under Shane’s ears.

“Mm. Is hard to” Ilya shrugs. “Show you how much, here” he smirks and Shane rolls his eyes and flicks at Ilya’s shoulder, pulls back and flops against the seat.

“Perv” Shane grumbles and Ilya wiggles his eyebrows and says “well you know how I like you in your scrubs” and then Shane is calling him gross and an asshole and shoving his hand in his face and Ilya is nipping at his fingers.

They settle then, hands tangled and they talk soft and low, catch up and check in and get almost fifteen minutes before Ilya’s radio crackles to life. His supervisors voice cuts through, low, and Shane can’t hear it but Ilya can- clicks in to, answers quickly into it.

“You have to go?” Shane asks and his stomach curls, bites at his bottom lip and hates the cold anxiety that washes up through his ribs.

“Mm. Probably” he shrugs

“Come with me? I’ll walk you to your ward and then maybe you can come for one round with me before you start?” Ilya suggests and Shane is nodding nodding, eager for more time.

The month continues like that, stolen moments in cars or break rooms, in hallways.

They hold hands behind the old outpatients building, steal a small cuddle and then go for a short walk to get coffee when Ilya is coming on shift in the morning and Shane’s shift has just ended.

Ilya drops off coffees, snickers, a huge box of doughnuts for all of Shane’s ward. Once, Ilya’s hoodie tucked into Shane’s locker- with a sticky note “for your 4am freeze” with a silly drawn face and heart. Shane pulls it on before midnight, once his patients are settled and presses his face into the fabric to breathe in Ilya as he documents.

It’s phone calls on breaks, endless stream of texts, photos of them in empty beds, at work, at the gym alone. Dirty texts, needing texts, complaints about how much they want.

Of course Shane is leaving stacked up meal prep in the fridge. Notes for his Ilya “have a good shift baby” “no cigarettes on break :( even if I’m not there to smell it” “handsome boy I miss you” and “enjoy your food. Love you” sometimes badly drawn pictures of stick figures drawing hands, hearts.

Shane comes home one morning to a huge bundle of flowers, hot decaf coffee from his favourite cafe and a pastry on the bench after a terrifying mess of a shift the night before.

Shane makes the bed before he goes to shift, fresh pressed sheets, electric blanket tucked in the bottom of the bed, for Ilya’s eternally cold toes and feet since Shane isn’t there to warm them.

Of course the 3 actual days they have off together are desperate and hot and needy, but also full of so much fucking sleep. They fuck like desperate animals, grasping hands and hungry mouths and pass out, sleep heavy curled up like puppies and wake up and eat and makeout and sleep more and fuck more and watch tv and sleep again. Shane gets the desperate release, as does Ilya of being each others, being owned. The feeling of Ilya owning his pleasure, of being taken care of, of letting go- getting to let go and have Ilya hold him in his palms, know what he needs. Shane cries from the relief of floating out of his head finally, toes curling against Ilya’s calves, clinging Ilya to him desperately, arms tight around him. Ilya isn’t much better, teary as he holds Shane close to him, cooes to him and covers him in kisses, smooths his hands over Shane’s body and feels the trust and love and safety of their connection. Feels the dizzy heat of Shane’s devotion to him, Shane giving away his body to him, of letting Ilya guide him into what he needs.

Ilya had fucking missed the pleasure of Shane desperate to please him, Shane under his command, Shane’s eyes dark and soft and hanging on every word. Beautiful Shane, his, his his.