Chapter Text
It’s all Shane’s fault.
He doesn’t know why he gets this way, but he worries a lot about Ilya’s past. About who he’s been with, who he’s cared for. He questions Ilya about it, hoping to be soothed and more often than not he is. But he never expects that question to be pushed back on him.
They’re sitting on the couch at the cottage in a similar fashion to when Ilya had come the first time; sharing clothes, under blankets, touching toes.
“And you?” Ilya looks at him expectantly.
“And me what?”
Ilya raises a brow. He can smell blood in the water; he’s struck a cord. “Have you cared for others?”
Shane has never cared for anyone the way he does Ilya, never deeply loved anyone in this way.
But there is…you. There has for so long been you.
So deeply embedded into his mind and past that he forgets you’re the anomaly to what had been lackluster connection until Ilya.
Shane hesitates and Ilya can practically hear the gears turning in his head.
“So yes,” Ilya answers for him.
Shane nods, turning his eyes towards his husband. He finds no anger, but he’s learned over time to read Ilya well and can see curiosity mixed with anxiety. “Yes.”
“Who?”
“Someone from school. Before all the hockey got intense.”
Ilya straightens up, ready to gather all the information he can. “What was his name?”
“Their name,” Shane mumbles.
Ilya frowns. “Multiple?”
“No they– they didn’t– they weren’t–” Shane’s words grow clumsy as he tries to explain who you are. What you are and aren’t. It was hard to grasp as a kid.
It hadn’t started that way when you and Shane had become friends.
But there were no secrets between you, just understanding and honesty. It happened fairly quickly into your friendship, you telling Shane that you didn’t want to be a boy or girl. That you just wanted to be. That your new name would be Freddie, because Fred from Scooby Doo was your favorite character. And though Shane couldn’t completely wrap his head around it at the age of 10, he knew that if that was what his best friend wanted, he would do it.
The crush on you, well that had come later.
“Oh. They as in them,” Ilya muses.
Shane smiles, nodding. “Yeah.”
“That is…different,” Ilya says, surprised.
Ilya has been intrigued by Shane from the moment his eyes landed on the freckles dusted on Shane’s cheeks. Fascinated by their differences, it’s part of what makes Shane so charming. He imagines he should’ve expected to be surprised by Shane’s history.
“They were my first real crush. That I can remember,” Shane amends quickly.
“Did you tell them?”
“Yes.”
“Did they like you back?”
“Yes.”
Oh. Ilya’s chest tightens with something…fear? Jealousy? He wants to know who this person is. What their name is, what they sound like and smell like. How they were able to pull Shane into their orbit.
“So,” Ilya prompts.
“We dated I guess. If you could call it that. We were 13. And then…”
Sometimes it feels like Shane is edging Ilya with conversations even though he knows Shane is just processing. Masking and computing.
“And then?”
“They left for art school. Hockey ramped up. We haven’t talked since they left.”
“Do you miss them?”
Shane felt like he needed to think about his answer, while having the answer sat in his hands. Of course he missed you. He didn’t let himself think about you much, but sometimes he would see an article about you. When he saw your work in an art museum once in St. Louis, he stood there to study it for hours.
Shane had wondered what they were like now amongst many other thing. Is their smile just as bright? Is their voice the same? Do they still love grape slushies and always have the right thing to say? Do they think about him? Would they still like him, the person he’s become now?
“Yes. I don’t think about them a lot. It makes me sad.”
Ilya notices the shift in Shane’s tone immediately. His eyes have grown softer, wetter. “I am jealous. But am sorry too,” Ilya says earnestly.
“You have no reason to be jealous. And thanks.”
“You puppy loved them. I am jealous.”
“Puppy loved,” Shane repeats skeptically, testing the words on his tongue.
Ilya doesn’t want to argue with him, not when he’s so emotionally raw. Not when Shane is realizing maybe there is someone else he’s loved and that has loved him. He deserves that, Ilya thinks. To be loved by as many people as he can with all the pressure on his shoulders.
—
Its been a week since that conversation on the couch. And while Shane let his thoughts drift there from time to time, its been at the forefront of Ilya’s mind ever since. He’s looked you up, wanting to put a face with the only other person Shane has ever experienced more with. You are incredibly good looking, but not what he expected Shane’s type to be with unique hair and tattoos. Soft but steady in your art, Ilya can tell that art school was no brainer. Your work is good, no its phenomenal. While he’s done his research the feeling inside him that took root when he learned about you has done nothing but grown.
Ilya wants to meet you. He needs to meet you.
Ilya wrinkles his nose before he speaks. “I have idea.”
Shane looks up from his breakfast, cautious. “Okay.”
“This Freddie of yours. What if you did not have to miss them?” Ilya pokes at his eggs, feigning coolness though he feels anything but.
Shane frowns, setting down his smoothie cup. “You’re still thinking about that? It’s been a week, Ilya. There’s nothing to worry about.”
“You did not answer question.”
“I don’t know what you mean by that.”
“You miss them. So we tell them and then we see them.”
Shane eyes go wide, his heart beating more quickly in his chest. “What did you do?”
“Nothing. Well, I looked them up. They are very talented, very precise work. Hot too, I can see why you wanted them.”
“I didn’t just want them, it was more than that,” Shane murmurs defensively.
“Puppy love,” Ilya suggests like he did that day.
“I guess.”
“Well, I want to meet them.”
“No. Absolutely not.”
“Why not? They are important to you.”
“Ilya.”
“Shane.”
“We haven’t spoken in almost 20 years.”
Ilya pivots his questioning, trying to bypass the logistical part of Shane’s brain and get to the feeling. “Do you think it would be nice to see them?”
“I don’t think its possible to see them.”
“Is not what I asked.”
“There’s no way I’m getting out of this conversation is there?”
Ilya is quiet but his eyes are expectant. Charged. Its all the answer Shane needs. He knows that when his husband wants something, he will certainly get it. And well, Shane honestly likes being a part of that– of getting Ilya the things that he wants and needs. He likes to be good and useful. To please.
It could also be nice to see you. Nerve wracking and possibly vomit inducing, but nice. He would get to ask all the questions he tucks away from himself. He would get to hear your voice and laugh. Maybe even give you a hug. Shane could get behind that, in fact he wanted to if you’d be open to it.
“Okay,” Shane says eventually.
“Okay?”
“Okay. I’ll have to look into how.”
“I know how. I have plan.”
Shane rolls his eyes. “Of course you do. You’ve been plotting for the last week on how to induce me into a panic attack.”
Ilya didn’t see it that way, not at least until right now. He just wanted to know the person that Shane loved. Not in the same way as they love each other, he knows saying that to Shane would push him further away. But its hard for Ilya to imagine– Shane loving someone else in that way. He doesn’t understand why but he wants to see it, he wants to give that opportunity to Shane over and over again. He’s not sure how to say that to Shane.
So instead he says, “I am sorry. I just want you to have friends. You know, other than Hayden.”
“I have Rose.”
Rose. This made this even more complicated for Ilya. He was less jealous of Rose these days. But if he had been so disturbed by Shane’s relationship with her, why was he trying to instigate a relationship with you?
“Two friends. Congratulations, Hollander.”
Shane scoffs. “If we’re talking about how many friends everyone has, you’re not much better.”
“I have friends. At least one more friend than you.” Svetlana. Marlow. Price.
“What’s your plan?”
“Art show. It is in New York, next month. I already checked your schedule, it lines up perfectly.”
“And your schedule?”
“Of being a, what do they call me online? A WAG? Is great, I cleared my very busy schedule.”
Shane laughs, shaking his head. “Are we really doing this?”
“It’s not the craziest thing we’ve ever done.”
That much is true, what with them spending a decade making their way to each other. The foundation. Coming out, getting married. Reconnecting with you wouldn’t be the craziest thing Shane’s ever done, especially not with Ilya.
So why did it feel like this was going to change everything?