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Ilya was worried about Shane. Well only a little teeny tiny bit. It was Monday morning and he sat across the table from Shane, who was currently stirring his applesauce around, rather than eating it.
“What are you looking at?” Shane grumbled, when he caught Ilya staring at him.
“Nothing, nothing, just my beautiful boyfriend who will not eat breakfast. You said you wanted applesauce so I gave you applesauce, da? So why do you look like I give you poison?” Ilya responded, standing up, walking around the table sitting down in the chair next to his boyfriends.
“I do not look like you gave me poison.” Shane insisted, though after a few seconds he huffed and added: “Just not hungry now ok? Didn’t sleep well last night.”
Well now that was a valid reason to worry, Ilya thought. “Why? Did you have nightmare?”, he asked. He knew Shane sometimes dreamed horrifying things that kept him awake the rest of the night. Though, it could also be Shane’s overthinking that kept him awake, Ilya supposed.
“No, just…I was up thinking about ways our team could improve this season. And then I couldn’t sleep so I stayed up writing down ideas.” mumbled Shane into his fist, that he had put up on the table to lean his head against.
“Okay, so what? You’re tired now, but you still have training in 40 minutes so finish breakfast.” Ilya said, while trying hard not to glare at Shane. They had talked about this before, Shane staying up to think about hockey when he was supposed to be sleeping. Ilya knew that it was one of Shane's special interests, but it still didn’t justify his boyfriend losing his sleep for it.
Right now though, his best bet was to try to get Shane to eat breakfast so he could drive him to practice. He would stay to watch from the side today, since a nasty fall in the last game resulted in a pulled ligament for him that would keep him off the ice for another week.
A whine from Shane pulled him out of his thoughts. “No, applesauce.” was mumbled around two fingers that must have found their way into his mouth while Ilya was lost in thought.
Ilya lost his fight against a frustrated groan that left his mouth now. He stood up, grabbing a chew toy from the basket on the counter that held stim toys for Shane.
“Fine no applesauce now. We bring snack for after training. What do you want? And here, fingers out of mouth please.” Ilya responded, handing Shane the chewy, giving up on getting breakfast into his boyfriend.
Shane gave no verbal answer, grunting, pointing to an opened pack of fruit bars.
“Ok, moya lyubov, let’s go to training now.” Ilya replied quietly, gathering their bags, throwing a fruit bar into one of them.
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Training was a disaster, if you asked Shane. Ilya sat by the side, talking to their coach, looking up to watch what Shane was doing every few minutes.
And Shane, well Shane felt awkward. He was used to Ilya playing with them and the disturbance in his routine in addition to the morning he had, made him feel out of place.
“You good?” Hayden asked skating up to him. “You seem pretty zoned out, called your name like four times.”
“Fine.” Shane answered shortly, trying to pull himself together. Come on you got this, Shane told himself. Only 30 minutes left. He thought, turning his focus back to the drills they were doing. The lights were definitely not too bright. And his gear was definitely not scratchy. And he was totally fine.
Only 30 minutes left.
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“Shane baby, eat snack now please.” Ilya prompted, having held the fruit bar in front of Shane for at least 30 seconds, who stared out of the window, after having jumped in the car a few minutes prior.
Shane responded by grabbing the bar, trying to open it and whining when it wouldn't budge. When Ilya didn’t immediately respond, Shane squeezed the snack in his fist, using it to hit his leg in frustration.
“Okay love, don’t hit please. I open for you” Ilya said, waiting at the red traffic light that told them to stop, turning to Shane, grabbing the fruit bar out of his boyfriend's hand, opening it in one swift motion.
Shane proceeded to take two bites out of his chosen snack, throwing the rest to the floor in front of him. He then pulled his shirt collar up to his mouth, biting down on the fabric.
Ilya breathed out slowly, reminding himself that his lover was not trying to be bad on purpose, just feeling overwhelmed. At least he isn’t biting on his fingers, Ilya thought, trying to view the situation positively.
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When they finally got home, things did not seem as if they were getting any better. Shane had grabbed his bag silently and walked straight through the house, up to his office.
Ilya on the other hand, carried the rest of their stuff in, before deciding on what to do next. If Shane was in his office he wasn’t supposed to come in or disturb Shane, who was usually only in there, if he had to actually get work done.
On the other hand, Shane definitely hadn’t eaten enough and even though Ilya was trying to be gentle, Shane had to eat something now, or he would feel even worse than he probably already felt.
So Ilya gathered some of Shane’s safe foods from the kitchen. Goldfish and simple saltine crackers, the unfinished, extra fine applesauce from breakfast and a small bowl of leftover buttered noodles that Ilya reheated in the microwave.
Nice and boring he thought to himself smiling.
Meanwhile Shane was in his office freaking out. He had been ungrateful towards Ilya, throwing away the snack Ilya offered, but he just couldn't eat it. It had been sticky and wrong in his mouth and he had no words to describe it all, so he had just… thrown the fruit bar away.
And now, in his room alone he felt all uncomfortable. He had showered after training, so it wasn’t the sweat that was uncomfortably drying against his skin.
He had changed into soft clothes so that also wasn’t the issue.
Shane was lost so deep in thought, that when he heard Ilya quietly knock, he startled and to get that sensation away, he had to squeak and jump up and down a few times.
Ilya let himself in, having heard Shane’s squeak, acknowledging it as an allowance to enter.
Shane had stopped jumping, looking at Ilya, who carried a tray with food. Food, Shane thought, that must be the reason he felt so weird. He was just hungry.
“Here, brought you food solnyshko.” Ilya told Shane, who looked at the food, instead of Ilya.
Shane came forward, taking the tray from him. He turned around with the tray, set it on the desk, turned to Ilya, gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and signed thank you to Ilya, using ASL. This had been a recent development, both Shane and Ilya learning a few basic signs, it having been recommended to them by Shane’s therapist, as a possible solution to when Shane became non-verbal when overwhelmed.
“No, problem sweetheart.” Ilya whispered back lovingly, leaving the room silently.
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Ilya thought the day was finally getting better. It was afternoon now and he had seen Shane about 40 minutes prior to take the tray with food back. He had been delighted to see that Shane had eaten a few spoons of applesauce, some of the noodles and all of the goldfish.
Well it seemed like he had celebrated too early, because now heard wailing and the sounds of what seemed to be a body repeatedly hitting the wall.
Ilya jumped up from the couch, cursing as he tripped on one of the stairs as he ran up to Shane’s office in a hurry.
In front of the door he took a deep breath to calm himself, preparing himself for what he would find behind the closed door.
Shane had been working on their charity. The food had helped restore energy, though his body had still felt weird. He had felt the need to squirm around in his seat and had gotten up to grab a fidget toy so he could concentrate.
Well now he knew what had been wrong. He had needed to go to the toilet. Needed.
When Ilya entered the room he unsurprisingly saw his boyfriend on the floor, screeching, almost wailing.
Ilya had anticipated this meltdown from this morning onwards.
One of Shane’s hands was by his mouth, teeth biting hard, the other hitting himself on his thigh with a force that made Ilya wince at the bruises his lover would carry from his own hand.
The thing that was surprising to Ilya though, was the puddle next to the office chair and the wet pants Shane was wearing, gave Ilya enough clues to what had happened.
He knew Shane sometimes struggled with body awareness, it’s why they have routine and task charts that indicate times for bathroom breaks, but he hadn’t actually seen Shane have an accident before.
“Oh Shane my love…” Ilya whispered, crouching down next to Shane, leaving some distance between them so he wouldn’t get punched by accident. Ilya had made that mistake before, early on in their relationship, learning that it was not a good idea to get too close to an autistic person in distress, if you don’t want to get hit.
Ilya had also learned that Shane would usually calm down by himself, as long as it was quiet and not too bright. So Ilya turned down the light and brought over some of Shane’s calm down tools (he knew they would only be used when Shane was through the worst of his meltdown, but better overprepared than not prepared). Those tools included stim/fidget toys for Shane, as well as communication cards that Shane sometimes used to tell Ilya what he needed.
While Ilya gathered those things, Shane slowly calmed down some, the hitting stopping, his screeches quieting down a bit and his fingers slipping in his mouth, to be sucked on rather than to be bitten. The rocking remained though, it being grounding to Shane.
When he looked up to Ilya, he felt his cheeks heating as he blushed. He was wearing wet pants in front of his boyfriend. This was so embarrassing, he wanted to die. What would Ilya think now? Would he be mad? Would he make fun of h-. Shane’s line of thought was stopped by Ilya's quiet and steady voice. “Hey my baby. Let’s go get cleaned up. Do you wanna find a chewy so those eh..., gross fingers can stay out of mouth please?”
Shane took a few seconds to respond, meltdowns leaving him exhausted. He pointed to a lego chew toy that they have had for a while now.
“Good choice.” Ilya committed, passing the toy along, Shane instantly stuffing it in his mouth.
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After Ilya had helped Shane get cleaned up (and had cleaned the puddle, that word made Shane want to sink into the ground), they went to sit on their bed.
“Was long day, da? Difficult day.” Ilya mumbled into Shane’s hair. Shane just replied with a tired nod, before cuddling into Ilya.
What a long day it has been, he thought, as he drifted into a light slumber.