in the interest of growth

So why do they feel like someone is watching them?

It's Ilya, white knuckled, staring into the bathroom mirror because he sees himself standing behind him in the mist of the shower, blood on his face and something that looks like the jagged remnants of an airplane armrest sticking out of his side. His wrists are a bloody mess of an open wound. There's white powder under his nose and someone else's wedding ring on his right ring finger. His other self is a mess of gore. Harm done to him and harm done to himself. His other self never learned. His other self is nothing more than the sum of a bad childhood and patched-up life, never enough to help him rise from the darkness. A swift and violent end. Blink and he's gone. At least it's fast. Ilya had always thought his life would be fast.

It's Shane, going for a run and suddenly feeling more out of breath than usual. He stops, clutching his chest, trying to breathe evenly. Yoga breathing. But it doesn't matter because the other version of himself is still running, picking up the pace to nearly a sprint. His other self can't stop. He has to win and perfect his form and win and beat his own scoring record and win and get married and win and be a husband be a father be the best be the thing he's always striven to be. He's always had goals. His other self achieved all of Shane's goals. His other self cannot stop running. Shane clutches his chest. His other self has chest pains all the time, but he can't stop to assess them. His other self dies before he can before he can see it coming. His other self dies slowly, while going so fast. Shane feels himself die.

These deaths are more real than their lives, some days. Some days they look at each other and wonder, who are you? What are you doing in my life? When will it all go back to normal? When will I die instead of living a beautiful, wonderful life?

Shane takes Ilya's hands in one moment like this. He puts one on his waist and one on the back of his neck. He presses Ilya's knuckles, encouraging him to squeeze, to bunch up Shane's skin and muscle in his hand.

"Need me, sweetheart?" Ilya asks, soft and toneless.

"Yup," Shane says, eyes open, taking in their reality. "Need you."

They don't know that the other sees death all the time. They don't tell each other that the alternative to living life apart is death.

What's your blog title from?

What movie have you watched most recently? What did you think of it?

what are you looking forward to right now?

if you could do anything at all today, what would it be?

What's your drink of choice? (Coffee/tea order, alcohol of choice, pop, etc)

What's your hair routine like? Anything special?

what's your favorite way to travel? Is there a mode of travel you haven't done that you want to experience?

favorite month of the year and why?

favorite time of day and why?

do you play or follow any sports? & elaborate on that?

what kind of music is stuck in your head a lot lately?

dishes or laundry?

what's something you learned recently?

if you could give a TED talk on anything, what would you talk about?

What's a piece of advice you find yourself giving a lot?

what's a piece of advice you would give to yourself five years ago?

do you believe in luck and superstition? Do you carry any lucky items or follow any lucky rules?

Are you musical? Play any instruments or sing? Would you ever perform for an audience?

Write, type, or speak?

I would like to relax with you. For once. Ilya’s feeding Shane dessert in bed, frosting smeared around Shane’s mouth from the six cupcakes Ilya has fed him. Shane’s slowly sucking the extra frosting off Ilya’s fingers, making sure he doesn’t miss a bite. 

Oh I think I know how the staff likes to be treated after all these years. Ilya’s praising Shane, such a good boy eating all that food for me, so full for me Shane, so perfect for me, so soft and overfed for me. Do you want more Shane? Can you stuff yourself more, for me? 

I like you. I like you too. Shane’s riding Ilya, slow and steady, Ilya enamored and transfixed by Shane’s body, his tummy, his thighs, his love handles, soft all over, beautiful all over, his Shane his gorgeous Shane. 

Why was that so hot? Shane’s moaning on the bed, splayed out and stuffed full with food and Ilya’s dick. Whining to him oh Ilya please I need more, more food more dick more fat more you please feed me more please Ilya I’m begging more more more.

Because you like to be bad. Ilya’s teasing Shane, is that all you’re going to eat for me? Ilya’s rubbing Shane’s overfilled belly, coaxing a few small burps out of him. I know you have more room in there, I know you want to eat more for me, be a good big boy for me. Just a little more Shane, I know you can do it. 

That’s not what this is. Not now and not for a long time. Shane’s blissed out of his mind, you feed me so good Ilya fuck I love when you feed me, love being so good for you, love how you make me feel, love when you fill me up with food and your dick, love being so full of you.

Do you want that problem to go away? Shane’s shoveling spoonful after spoonful of ice cream into his mouth while Ilya is sucking his dick, slowly moving up and down, not letting Shane come until he’s finished the whole pint. Shane’s moaning loudly, forgoing the spoon and pouring the last few drops of ice cream into his mouth as he comes down Ilya’s throat.  

I don’t ever want that problem to ever go away. Ilya’s kissing his way down Shane’s whole body, his softened chin and pecs, his jiggly tummy and his fattened thighs, biting and sucking and kissing every inch, grabbing handfuls of Shane’s body groping and groaning, loving how soft Shane is, he can’t touch him enough.

Is that what you want? To be together? Ilya’s hand feeding Shane in bed, making his way through a dozen chocolate covered strawberries, juice dripping down Shane’s chin and onto his chest, chocolate staining his lips. Ilya can’t help licking his way up from Shane’s stomach to his mouth, capturing his lips in a blazing kiss, tongue diving in to taste even more of Shane. 

So much, so much it scares me. Ilya’s caressing Shane’s overfed stomach, sucking hickeys into his lower tummy, telling Shane he loves how soft he feels, loves how much he eats, loves how he sounds when he’s stuffed full with Ilya’s cooking, stomach bloated and groaning, jiggling from overstuffed hiccups. 

Ya tebya lyublyu. Ilya’s fucking Shane from behind, fondling his chubby tummy and stroking his dick. Placing kisses down Shane’s spine and grasping his love handles as he thrusts harder into Shane, feeling the way his whole body is jiggling with the force of it. 

Holy shit; I love you too. Shane’s lying on top of Ilya, collapsing his whole body weight on top of him after being fucked so good and coming so hard he saw stars. Ilya’s arms are around Shane, squeezing him so tight, placing kisses into his hair, grabbing at his ass, rubbing his hands up and down his back. Shane’s stomach starts rumbling. 

Yes, Shane is a jock. Who said only one thing could shape his personality?

Shane is a jock and he’s gay. He is curious and exploratory with Ilya. He is honest with Rose. He starts an inclusive charity. He supports other queer players and their partners.

Shane is a jock and he’s a Japanese-Canadian man. He has a mother who guides his growth and likely would shape his values for holistic and hygienic health. He prioritizes his appearance as a franchise athlete and individual brand.

Shane is a jock and he’s autistic. He chooses clothes that are comfortable and appropriately fitted to his sensory needs. He seeks out professional styling when he decides to wear things outside of his typical wardrobe because, again, he values his appearance.

His flat affect snd dislike for mandatory social interactions does not mean he hates people. His confusion and internalized homophobia towards himself does not mean he hates gay people. Any of his perceived resistance to interacting with other gay people comes from the pressure he puts on himself and his self-imposed shame.

Shane is a deeply robust and multifaceted character. It is what makes him such a great match for Ilya, his deeply robust and multifaceted counterpart. Shane’s traumas are compartmentalized much differently than Ilya’s, sometimes even unknown to him due his complex processing.

“Morning,” Shane’s voice was still quiet and half asleep.

Ilya was positioned low in the bed kissing Shane’s hip. Shane shifted slightly, arching into his husband’s touch. His fingers found their way into Ilya’s soft, messy curls and he lazily began playing with his hair in response.

“Morning moy tolsten'kiy tigr,” Ilya responds against Shane’s skin.

Shane licks his lips and sinks further into the mattress under Ilya’s touch. He’s so lost in the wonders of Ilya’s mouth against his body that it takes a moment for the words to hit him.

“Fuck you I’m not a chubby tiger.”

Shane’s protest is half-hearted at best as he tightens his grip on Ilya’s hair, keeping him close instead of pushing him away. Ilya lets out a small laugh in response and recenters his attention to Shane’s belly. Shane’s breath hitches when Ilya’s mouth moves along the generous curve of his middle and his tongue dips into his belly button.

“Oh you are not,” Ilya says. He brings his hands to the sides of Shane’s stomach because yes there is definitely more than enough for Ilya to hold onto. “Then what is this?”

Shane bites down on his lip as Ilya shakes his belly. His whole body jiggles from the movement which causes his cheeks to flush. Ilya kisses his stomach again before letting his fingers slip to Shane’s lower belly. He’s deliberate with his touch, fingers moving in slow lines that make Shane’s breath hitch because yeah maybe he’s gotten a little more sensitive the bigger that he’s gotten. He can’t see Ilya’s face in this position but he just knows that he’s smiling. “And what are these?” Ilya asks as his hands move to Shane’s hips and then his thighs. Shane’s body is a map of stretchmarks in various shades. Fresh dark purple ones frame his belly while faded silver streaks cover his hips and ass. Ilya maps every single one. He follows them first with his fingertips and then with his mouth while Shane melts beneath him. 

After a few minutes of Ilya thoroughly worshipping at the altar of Shane’s body, he is betrayed by his own stomach that lets out a deep growl.

“See? You even growl like tiger.”

“You are such an asshole,” Shane says with a laugh that sounds a lot like ‘I love you’.

Ilya slides up Shane’s body sinking into him as they share a kiss that is interrupted by Shane’s stomach growling once more. Ilya’s smile widens and slides a hand back to Shane’s stomach.

Honestly, I feel like anytime Shane starts to get a bit softer, it's almost impossible for Ilya to get his kit on in the lockerroom because he's too distracted by Shane.

Loving the idea of Shane and Ilya trying for a baby but it’s not working, so when they go visit the fertility doctor they’re nervous she’s going to say it’s something serious. But she takes one look at Shane’s lean sculpted body and gently suggests he try putting on a little weight before they look into more intensive treatments.

So they go home, and look at each other, and Shane’s like… I guess I have to get fat now?

And it’s weird for him at first, eating more than he’s comfortable with, but Ilya’s so patient, rubbing Shane’s tummy when it feels too full and heavy and telling Shane what a good job he’s doing. By the second day of this “treatment plan” Shane’s obsessed, and he secretly thinks he’ll never be able to go back to eating normally.

And his body absolutely blooms under all the extra love and nourishment, chubby curves rounding out everywhere there used to be angles. His plump little belly sits rounded in his lap even when he’s not stuffed, and it’s so gorgeous that Ilya can’t keep himself from touching him constantly. 

Unless.

You consider that the Metros know that Shane absolutely does know how to fight. They've all done checking clinics with Shane. They've all wrestled and roughhoused with Shane. He's strong and he's fast and he wants to win.

The Metros understand that Shane doesn't fight, not because he can't, but because he's a little too good at it. And Shane generally doesn't even like violence. He likes to win by playing the game, not hurting the other team.