Chapter Text
Shane could feel his heart harshly pounding against his chest, begging to be released from its own pained vessel. He could understand that, he wanted out too, not just now, but most especially now. Shane wanted to peel of his skin, his scratchy pants and confining shirt, the cooling sweat, he wanted out of Ilya's house and into his car, back to his hotel, no his apartment, actually his cottage.
Away from a possible gaze of anybody. Wrapped in familiar sheets, and sounds that he remembered, back to comfort.
Comfort... Comfort back with Ilya, whom he just left probably unfazed and comfortable on his own couch. Shane now aches for that couch as he wordlessly slides on his shoes.
Shane heard a quite noise in the living room he had just left Ilya wordless on the couch, he can't help but almost whine at that, had Ilya just stood up and was now moving on, gone with Shane and onto the next task. Shane prayed he wasn't viewed as a task, a mere chore or side routine Ilya needed after games, although Ilya only ever called him hollander or boring so maybe he was.
Shane's hand reached for the doorknob eagerly, wanting to get out before Ilya came by and saw him, and his "worthless, pathetic state". He can't truly remember what happened next only that it felt his bones were being crushed into his lungs, a vein popping in his chest, and a pressure on his brain. He left as soon as possible, he looks for his car only to remember he parked far away from the house, completely untraceable, next to a big tree, and a grassy park.
He thought it would be less obvious, but at the current moment he dreaded his stupid brain for being so meticulous.
Hands in his pockets, head fuzzy and useless, hopelessly began walking on autopilot, around the street taking a left, and seeing a forked road where more houses laid ahead they were few and far between lots of land, gated community, just more houses though all identical, and suddenly Shane felt impossibly more dread wash over.
He stopped walking and suddenly clocked the rain that he had been walking in for minutes already. He felt a tear slip down mix with rain, and his shirt stick to him in all the wrong places and his pants felt heavy and socks itchy.
The sudden urge to rip all hair out, take off all his clothes and scratch off his skin became more and more appealing by the minute. He felt dirty, and just messy. Why couldn't his head just fucking think for a minute and find his car, or at the very least form a single fucking thought. He tried to take a deep breath and picked one of the three routes, he walked through the grass and could feel his socks becoming more an more itchy, and feet muddy, He noticed a few tree's lined up a few hundred meters in front of him.
He knew he should be happy about that, and he would be if it wasn't for the existential crisis within him right now. At least he was lucky he thought to himself, he had a 1/3 chance of picking the right road, but it wasn't long until those thoughts turned to a dreaded feeling of how ungrateful he was, he continued walking as his mind spiralled into a self hatred pit.
Pure disgust and imbalance ran through his mind as he realized how grateful he should be that Ilya picked him, at least sometimes just for a little.
The little time he got reserved with Ilya, he spoiled it by running away, only due to the fact of becoming on a first name basis.
Ilya must think he is such a freak, Ilya is so observant and handsome, strong, and really fucking good at hockey, he could have anyone.
Shane didn't deserve him, he wasn't dumb, he knew he was good at hockey, but what else, his brain didn't work quite right, he had bad style and blunt ugly, stupid hair, bad at talking to girls, coaches, missed basic social cues.
He finally reached his car, his clothes fully soaked through, feeling gross, sad, uncomfortable getting into his car with wet clothes only added to the extreme feelings he was currently experiencing, but at least he was inside of the car now away from something, people maybe?
His short nails dig into the skin.
He keeps biting his lip. Harder now. Bruising.
he felt his lip wobble, and eye's refilling each time a tear escaped,.
In the safety of his car everything was so much worse, he could feel every fibre of clothing rubbing on himself, heavy rain billeting loudly against the metal roof, he let out an involuntary whine followed by heavy sobs.
An unsteady breakdown, he gripped his hair tight at the root, yanking and it soothed almost, more in the fact of the pain on his head, took away from the caving of his chest. He put his head to his lap folding uncomfortably, but hiding a bit and trying to just have a physical connection anywhere on his body, at least until he could breathe a little, just enough to drive somewhere.
This didn't help though, and Shane internally knew the only thing that would help, was back to Ilya, tightly held in his embrace, but that couldn't happen, they never really reached a point like that, and now Shane came to the ugly realization that maybe now they never would.
---
Ilya was anything but comfortable, he only felt a strong sense of unease fuck what had he done, Shane precious as can be, left....
Ilya like the stupid fucking idiot he is, flew to close to the sun, got to comfortable and in a moment of pleasure yet weakness said Shane's name.
In Ilya's own defence he just felt so much in that moment, emotional from the phone call, then overwhelmed sense of familiarity with Shanes warmness, he just needed some connection deeper then fucking, and last names.
He whined into a pillow after he assumed Shane left, already mourning the feeling of soft warm skin, and that sense of home that made him sleepy. He wanted more of those cuddles after they both finished, but nope Ilya had to fuck that up.
Shane was so soft, he had this fire, hunger on the ice, but Ilya feels so lucky he gets to see Shane break down his burly identity, after an intense game or round of sex.
He FINALLY got the courage to ask his Shane to stay, just for a night, before returning to the chaos. He prepared everything for the perfect cozy slow morning of fucking and sleeping, and cuddles. He went to a grocery store, watched an interview on Shane's favourite things, his pet peeves, and calming morning routine, diet, and hearing him answer silly things like music and animals. He wished more then anything he could learn that for himself but he would take it.
He woke up that morning, and this angel of a man sleeping sound, in his arms. His heart hammered like an alarm clock, overflowing of happiness thinking Shane might feel comfortable in his home. He realized Shane was very particular about some things, so he made sure to clean, mop, dust, make a smell diffuser on each floor of his house, pumping out a calming care of lavender.
Sometimes Ilya thinks, that Shane's brain might work a little different, not picking up on sarcastic jokes, or the folding clothes and leaving socks on. sometimes he noticed Shane look out of place a little suddenly quiet or distancing himself, his intense focus on hockey, and even more so the strict rules Shane has for himself, so if Shane felt comfortable in his home, maybe they could do it again....
But as always Ilya can't keep the peace, just as it was going nicely its gone, stripped away, like when you finally get to sleep after a big night, only to have to wake up less then hours later to cold, and the solemn realization you have to do it all again.
After involuntary whines went into the pillow, Ilya heard a shuffle and then the door open and close, and he froze in fear, was that Shane, was he only leaving now?
As questions swirled in his mind he got up to go check, and sure enough he saw an empty foyer, but a brown leather wallet left on the side table that holds the keys. Upon looking to the side he saw Shane's brownish jacket he came in with hanging on a rack. Ilya was taken aback Shane forgot stuff its so unlike Shane.
He glanced outside and saw nothing besides heavy pelting rain, at least Shane probably didn't park to far and is out of the rain. But Ilya felt an unease creep up his back warming him in unsettling way. He might be getting sick, without his jacket, and his wallet he probably needs it.
Ilya hasty opens up the leather, and checks. Cash, a drivers licence, aww Shane was so young in his photo, a polaroid of himself and rose at a party, that one didn't make Ilya feel good at all. He had some loonies, and toonies, this one made Ilya smile because Shane once told him he never used coins to pay, but he always gave some whenever he saw a musician on the street, guitar or hat open for donations, they made smile, which in turn made Ilya smile.
And lastly, Ilya saw a light blue gum wrapper heart, and his heart jumped, that was his! He made that for Shane, during Vegas. Shane offered him gum just casual at the bar, and Ilya wanted to provide sweetness back so he origami'd him a heart. and he kept it...
Ilya's chest physically ached now, it was like he could feel Shane just getting further and further away from their almost perfect day. It hurt terribly like the left side of his upper ribs just decided to cave in and constrict his heart, trapping Ilya from expressing and yearning for his pretty love.
Ilya really hated this feeling, in uncharted territory, he was sure Shane didn't either, not knowing how to react, although Shane seems to do just well he ran off quite quickly, he's so good and he works so hard, his perfect family, and strict diet, calm demeanour, on ice respect. Who is Ilya kidding, He doesn't deserve him.
He clutched the jacket in close breathing in the scent it was soft safe, clean laundry, and deodorant. He gripped the wallet tight with the other hand, already mourning the fact he might have lost his perfect, beautiful man with the most innocent looking vesnushki (freckles).
He placed a hand over his achey chest to soothe the lack of physical touch, to make up for the fact he won't get his expected cuddles, Ilya hates.. hated physical touch after intimacy, until Shane came along and now his body has a physical reaction of pain after a particularly straining or rough session with Shane.
Ilya wonders if Shane sometimes feels that to, deep deep down he almost hopes so, that Shane is that co-dependant on a warm body after sex that he feels a little achey and spaced out. But he doesn't wish that on Shane, he hopes Shane is okay...
---
Shane is hyperventilating so bad, his vision is going blurry, it feels like his stomach is in his toes, and his fucking clothes are confining him so bad, everything just fitting in all the wrong places. He doesn't think he has ever felt this terrible before.
Not even at his friends 7th birthday party when they snuck a horror movie, and Shane was too fearful and embarrassed to call his mom that night so he spent the whole night crawled up to a wall, shaking with silent tears.
He covered his nose and held his breath, for as long as he could, until he took in a gasp of air, and slowly came to the realization of his car, the surroundings, and Shane just wanted to start crying all over again, but instead tried his very hardest to be brave, and looked for his phone which was located in his pocket, and his wallet because Shane would never drive without his drivers licence.
He couldn't find it anywhere, dread rolled over him with the fear of possibly dropping it on his walk, and now he definitely couldn't make it back to Ilya's. Fuck Stupid, why can't my brain work fucking normally for one day.
In self destruction he once again yanked at his hair, and used the other hand to pick up his phone, his body forcibly finding the "Lily" contact automatically and pressing call.
Shane felt like he was on the verge of dying, and in order to ease this hurt he needed Ilya, but Ilya doesn't deserve this, he doesn't deserve clingy needy Shane, that hurts but he knows its the truth, Shane just hopes Ilya doesn't hate him impossibly more.
--
Ilya felt his phone ring from his pocket, breaking him out of his trance of smelling in the safe scent of Shane Hollanders jacket, He pulled it out, knowing it was Alexi "Что ты хочешь" (what do you want.) he said it with a harsh tone, pissed at his brother and himself.
But his heart fucking dropped when he heard the soft sniffle, and then an embarrassed "m' sorry um it's-it's me Shane... Hollander, I-I forgot my wallet"
He felt the winds of the earth rush through him and take all the air within his lungs from him, he sounded so meek, and broken?
"Hollander?' "yes, wallet they are here." He breathed out and then awaited a reply but was left on heard he supposed. It was silent beside a heavy dripping sound against metal, Hollander is in his car at least, Ilya could sigh out a relief. "Hollander?' he wanted to immediately fold. But something stopped him, the fact that hollander left, not him this time, Hollander left..
He heard a final big breath out until he heard sobs, heavy watery sobs and he could feel bile rise in his throat at the mere idea of Shane being in trouble,
as he was about to speak he heard Shanes pained voice "Ilya" his first name! "I-need-help, please i'm sorry, i'm so so sorry I left, but please, I get you and why you're super mad at me, please I need help. Ilya please"
Ilya'a Anxiety in that moment almost gave him a heart attack, Shane his precious, his rival and benefits, Immediately grabbed the wallet wallet, but jacket and keys forgotten, Ilya raced outside with runners and thin clothes, phone glued to his ear awaiting more from his darling.
"Shane, Shane where are you, you in car yes? Are you still in neighbour town?" Ilya knew that wasn't the right word, but he knew Shane would understand and his focus was not on fucking grammar right now.
Shane's head felt fuzzy so whatever words were being spoken weren't really translating through his mind, but Ilya's soothing voice was nice though. He just let himself sink into the car trying to hold on to any remaining part of Ilya, including his voice, sobs continued to rack though his body, but the focus was nice to be on something else. "m' in-a park" he tried to swallow the phlegm in his throat to talk, but it kind of came out as a strangled whimper. "I, am under a big tree"
-
Ilya big fan of walking, and sunset runs around his neighbourhood, knew immediately where Shane was. He made sure not to be wasting time, and raced over, taking a left, getting pelted with rain, but never slowing down, ran to the fork, and heading to the park, where he could see, a safe boring car idly against the road, and though not religious he thanked gods Shane picked the boring car, it kept him safe.
Ilya also was thankful for endurance, as he could get to Shane immediately. When he opened the door he almost collapsed, there he was, crumpled into a state of himself, sobs carrying throughout his body clutching the phone, pulling at his pretty hair, what had happened in the 30 minutes they were apart.
"Hollander, Shane Lyubimiy, ya zdes, ya zdes, moya dorogaya." (my love, i'm here, i'm here.) Shane audibly whined as he heard Ilya's voice. He was being a burden, he was needy. Ilya is going to see Shane and be so mad, he's not in physical pain. But Shane couldn't help but continue his sobs, and apologies.
Ilya felt inconsolable hurt in his chest watching this, he reached over still getting impossibly more soaked from the rain pelting down on him through the open door, he takes Shanes hands from his hair, "Shhhhhh, Shhh its okay, its just me, a deep big breath we do together?" He continued prying at his hands, until eventually working them off of his head, he tried to smooth it over as Shane tried to breath too, just a little off and panicked but doing better he hoped.
Ilya wasn't scared about being caught at all, its a small neighbourhood, gated community, nobody really cares but he still wanted to get Shane home, warm, and comfortable. "shhhh you are so good, keep trying" he watched as Shane opened a little more to the praise, like the negative thoughts were being shovelled away.
Shane's face was still slumped into himself, folded into himself, like a shell of the man he is used to, but he is happy he is more calm. "moya lyubov" he whispers to Shane, before poking his nose to Shane's, nuzzling his face, with his own, "I must move you, we drive home yes?:
Shane tired cries, turned into whines, but he was pretty happy about the contact, he visibly perked at that, he might not have known what Ilya was saying but he was just happy Ilya was there to take over for a bit. His brain felt like it had been held underwater it had lost its breath and was now just surviving on stale air, his limbs felt heavy and sore, not just from their previous activities, but from a physical, mental exhaustion an ache that couldn't be soothed. Not even after games had Shane ever felt this tired.
Ilya lifts Shane slightly off the seat a hand behind his back, and one under his legs, just to slide him over. In this moment Ilya loved the safe, boring car with no middle console, it made it easy to push Shane a little more into the middle so he could slide in, and also because they wouldn't have to separate now. They could stay pressed against each other, while Ilya drove them home, he made sure to turn the heat up for the 3 minute drive, at least hopefully Shane would feel a bit more peace, and warmth internally, at least Ilya hoped.
-
Shane's head rushed with air, when Ilya had pressed their faces close, he had never been so happy that Ilya had found him, and wasn't mad or frustrated at Shane for up and leaving, he craved that close proximity again, as when they broke apart it was back to old air and clenched heart.
However that nice floaty feeling went away as Ilya pushed Shane over to the side of his car. Soon that feeling was replaced with a deep set feeling of embarrassment, suddenly he became a burden, another thing Ilya had to deal with on top of his probably really busy life, Shane could hear the phone call earlier, Ilya clearly has a lot going on at home with his father and now Shane made it so much worse. The sudden urge to turn away from Ilya and so he couldn't see his already tear streaked face became evermore present as moments pressed on.
He felt Ilya slip in beside him, closing the door preventing more rain from charging in. All Shane could feel though was the tight wet clothes, itching his body, next to Ilya's now wet clothes, and that just made Shane want to tear everything off his hair, shirt, sweatpants. He felt guilt settle low in his stomach as he realized, not only did Ilya come out find his way to Shane, but also got soaked and ruined clothes, and is spending his time caring for stupid, broken Shane Hollander.
The heat air, suddenly turns on startling Shane slightly. It starts cold freezing Shane, as the wet clothes are added to the cold air, but now Shane feels air also just come out of the vents, and blow straight at them, it makes Shane's face dry while drying out his mouth, it becomes uncomfy and now the feeling of Shane's own skin was a unbearable feeling too. It's got a stale air smell to it, dry and old.
The whine that escapes him is involuntary, and Shane can't even hear it, already overwhelmed with an overlaying chalky scratching noise within his own head filling all ridges of his brain.
Shane stays seated in the car looking down, and shutting his eyes tight, shamed at his own actions, he was the one who ran away, and know he was being a stupid baby, about the fact. He doesn't deserve to feel like this, can't be upset about this, He left. He notices Ilya's lack of physical touch after moving him over to the other seat, which hurts.. A lot.
Is he so disgusted with me, he can't even stand to touch me, but Shane knows if he had the chance wouldn't want to touch himself either, he would rather scratch off all of his skin, but he must be being punished for eternity as he is stuck to himself.
In an attempt to self soothe himself, he picks at the skin, surrounding his thumb nail bed, picking it raw, till blood and underlaying skin appeared, and proved as an anchor to keep from dropping, and sinking, so far below the surface, dropping to into depths he couldn’t try to crawl his way back from.
Everything was muffled, his whirring mind slowing further as he embraced the stagnant void of his thoughts.
The car surged forward, and Shane heard Ilya curse, most likely due to, realizing the fact he was now taking responsibility of taking care of Shane. More words were said but the blurring buzz covered up the rest of the words that followed the swears. All Shane could feel right now, besides an uncomfortable madness, was guilt, shame, embarrassment, and uselessness.
-
Ilya swears as the car surges forward "fuck, the British don't play about the gas pedal." He attempts at a light hearted joke, to lighten the tension within the car, but he's sure the words don't transfer past Shanes ear's as he watches the lack of acknowledgement in Shane's sullen character.
He felt deeply for Shane, a strong sense of protectiveness always stayed present the more he learned about him. Shane was by in no means in need of said protection, he is Shane mother-fucking Hollander, the leagues top goal scorer, rookie of 2010, 3x Stanley cup winner, a boring yet super pretty man, with weird quirks, but nevertheless very strong. The protection more came from him, somewhere deep within, feeling the need to keep Shane out of some of the public's harsh eye, that they were both so exposed to.
He was victim to many of those cruel words, and he knew Shane was too, he had seen it.
Ilya also wanted to keep Shane comfortable, he knew he was already being so brave, so vulnerable with him. So the fact that earlier Ilya had done something, like say his name made Shane so uncomfortable he felt the need to up and leave, made Ilya physically hurt with guilt.
He doesn't try to reach out and touch Shane, not wanting to overwhelm him, and instead opting to drive in silence, back to his house. Making a mental checklist of things to possibly help with Shane's current state, silence and unmoved. He know's Shane must feel mind numbingly tired. So bare minimal work for Hollander, and maybe he will need shower to warm up, as he looks over at the brunette, he sees curled up shaky hands, chattering teeth and dripping clothes.
So a warm shower first, maybe hollander might be a little hungry, he had single tuna melt today, but hockey players have big calorie gains to hit every day, and its been very mentally exhausting day, so a bit of a snack, yummy and healthy so Shane doesn't have to concern about diet.
Then maybe Ilya thinks hard to himself, we talk, must get to the bottom of why Hollander had such a big emotional swing. Then if Ilya is lucky, perhaps Shane will be very tired, and based on his current state a little dependant, clingy, and snuggly, just wanting to curl up for many hours, sleep it, talk, and some more once again.
Finally Ilya lets out a breath, as they make it over the familiar bump of the driveway, entering the large garage decked with three of Ilya's other supercar. Shane's car however, not at all ugly but just a very different vibe, sticks out like a sore thumb against them, Ilya loves that. It's safe, reliable, a bit slower, but overall the car that will last you forever, and Ilya pictures Shane in a similar way.
He parks the car, closes the garage behind him, which quiets life down just a little, the light dimmed from outside, and the rain a bit softer from behind a door. As he unbuckles he glances at Shane seeing him do the same, but in a robotic motion, tears stream down his face, but his eyes respond in such a way that makes it seem like they don't know they're leaking. It's not the Shane he was used to, this Shane just hands on his lap, taking up as little space as possible looking down at his fingers, which only then does Ilya realize his fingers are bloody, and raw picked.
Realization dawned on Ilya, Ilya witnessed this before, not with Shane but he'd seen it, and then went home and researched it. With as extensive experience as Ilya had, had he became thankful, so he knew what to do, why Shane felt this way confused, floating but not in a peaceful way, more like underwater for too long kind of float. It's not his fault, but it's not Shane's either.
He knew comfort, and contact were the two biggest things in the next few hours, and Ilya would do so good in order to help Shane, get to the high kind of float, more like the one when you get too much air on a trampoline, or when an airplane is descending and your stomach flies up. Slightly out of control, but in a bit more of a fun way, not dangerous.
And then Ultimately, bring Shane down, back to his Shane, the strict diet, missing pop-culture references, lasting forever, stable, safe Shane.
Reaching across the car, he places a hand, just on Shane's back, and the lack of recognition was almost scary, Ilya had never seen it this bad on anybody. Softly rubbing up and down the length of Shane's back, before gently speaking out loud "Hollander... Shane. We are back at my house in my garage, we drove back together, its pretty rainy outside, and we are both soaking wet, we should go inside get warm, eat some food, watch a movie? Can we go together?"
Ilya could feel his stomach ache at the view of hollanders blink and you miss it soft nod before moving like robot to open the door, but the door on the other side, just slid across the seat, and put distance between Ilya and Shane.
Ilya thought thats not good for Shane right now, he needs closeness and physical touch, but really Ilya knew it was also him who needed Shane, maybe more, Ilya didn't want to be away from Shane right now, right now he just wanted to take care of Hollander.