Chapter Text
Rose is surprised when she picks up the phone. Ilya never calls her, and he definitely never video calls her. She answers immediately.
"Hi, is everything okay?"
"Rose, please, I am begging you. On my knees, I am begging you. Tell Shane he has to wear this."
Ilya turns the phone so she can see Shane and his stylist Jordan. Shane is standing on one of those little platforms they have in bridal shops. He's wearing something that looks like a tux, but a super sexy version: black pants, white jacket, a silky white shirt open to his waist, and a wide white cummerbund.
"Holy shit," she says.
"Rose, pleeeeease."
"Move me closer," she commands Ilya, and he does, giving her a full 360 of Shane. Shane shifts uncomfortably, but he looks like a fucking model. Better than a model. "Holy shit. Jordan, you're a genius."
"I don't know if this is my style," Shane says hesitantly.
"But it can be," Jordan says.
"I'm paying for it," Rose says. "If that's what he's worried about. I'll pay for it. You can put me on with the manager, I'll give them my card number. I don't care how much it is."
"No, I am paying for it," Ilya says. The phone is too close to his face. "He has to have it."
"Does it look...right?" Shane asks.
"Shane, I have my fucking arms crossed right now so I won't touch you all over in front of everyone in this fancy little shop," Ilya says.
"You know you're very, very handsome, right?" Rose asks. Shane makes a face. "This is next level. Hot AF."
"As...fudge? Like hot fudge?"
"As fuck, Shane. Hot as fuck." Rose laughs. "You're really not one of the world's natural texters, huh."
"I am working on it," Ilya says. "Shane, lyubimyy, what is the problem?"
Shane fidgets with the jacket cuffs. "It's not what I usually wear."
"No," Ilya says, "it's better."
"I feel kind of exposed," Shane says. He tugs on the open edges of the shirt.
"Yeah, but your chest looks amazing," Rose says. "Anyway, now you know how I feel at all those awards shows."
"This is for the GLAAD Awards," Jordan says.
"Then it's perfect," Rose tells Shane. "You have to wear this."
"I don't know." Shane looks troubled. "I'm not sure I'm that kind of gay guy."
"What, stylish?" Ilya asks.
"I don't know what that means," Jordan says with a sharp little smile. Rose has been on the wrong end of that smile before. She winces.
"Just, like, not flamboyant, but...." Shane trails off.
"Femme?" Jordan suggests.
"I guess."
"Is there something wrong with being femme?" Jordan studies their nails, but Rose can tell they care a lot about Shane's answer.
"Not for other people?" Shane says like it's a question. "I guess just growing up as the Asian kid also meant people thought I was kind of feminine. It's kind of a stereotype, I guess. Asian guys not being manly. And then it turned out that I'm a gay Asian man and I'm married to someone who is really manly and that doesn't really help change people's assumptions. I don't have anything against other people being feminine, but I just...I don't feel like that's my style. I'm not Fabian Salah. I can't really pull it off. So. Maybe I should wear something different?"
"No!" Rose and Ilya say at the same time. Jordan and Shane ignore them.
"What did you tell me the first time we met?" Jordan asks.
"I wanted to stop looking like I was always going to the gym," Shane says.
Jordan smiles, for real this time. "What else?"
Shane has to think about it for a minute. "Uh, I wanted to look like me."
"Okay," Jordan says. "Do me a favor. Close your eyes." They touch Shane's body lightly, adjusting. "Stand up straight. Shoulders back. Imagine that you're doing hockey captain shit, or whatever makes you feel the most you. I want to see that power pose."
Rose hears Ilya suck in his breath. Shane's chin lifts and his shoulders square. He slides one hand confidently into his pocket, standing at an angle. His body looks relaxed, but strong. The tux already looked great on Shane, but this takes it to a new level. He looks like a prince from a movie. He looks like a goddamn fantasy.
"Fuuuuck," Ilya says softly. Shane hears him and smiles just a little. It's definitely not a look he ever gave Rose, unfortunately, because it's extremely sexy and she tells Ilya so.
"I know," he says, sounding smug.
"Okay, open your eyes," Jordan tells him.
Shane does. "Oh."
"Yeah, exactly," Jordan says. "That's you."
"I look really manly," Shane says. "And also...femme."
"You look fucking hot," Rose says.
"Hey hey hey," Ilya says to her. "I will tell my husband that he looks fucking hot."
"Okay, fine," Rose says.
"You look fucking hot," Ilya tells Shane.
"Whoa." Shane studies himself in the mirror. "That's me?"
"That's you, baby," Jordan says. "I'm only ever going to put you in clothes that help you look like you. But they're just clothes. You have to wear them. Don't let them wear you. It doesn't matter what the label says. You're the one in charge. Okay?"
"Okay," Shane says.
"It's okay to have masculine energy and feminine energy," Jordan says. "Most people have both. If you're not ready to embrace that, we'll try something else, but I think you should wear this."
"Yeah, no, it's...." Shane is still looking at himself. "It's like the things about it that are kind of feminine make me look manlier, when I'm standing like this? Like somehow they emphasize, I don't know, my shape, my strength. And I guess the things about it that I would say were manly make me look...beautiful, maybe. Elegant."
"Exactly," Jordan says with satisfaction.
"You need it." Ilya sounds stern. "Now, today."
If Rose didn't already have some idea about Shane's preferences within his relationship, the way Shane's posture changes when he hears Ilya's bossy voice would clarify some things for her. She gets it. It's a compelling voice.
"You will look good for Megan Rapinoe," Ilya says.
"What if she shows up in the same outfit?" Shane's having fun now, posing, comfortable in the suit, and it's possible that he looks even better somehow.
"She might," Jordan says. "It's kind of her thing. But she could wear anything and make it her thing, so I don't think you have to worry too much. Also she would add a hat."
"Thank you for calling me," Rose says, and makes kissy faces at Ilya until he hangs up. She puts her phone down on the table next to the script she's working on learning and rubs both hands over her face.
"Holy fucking shit."