Chapter Text
The sky was blue. The grass was green. And Ilya loved Shane. Those were facts Ilya could never deny. Ilya also knew that he was selfish. He’d do anything to keep Shane for as long as he could, including never calling Shane by his first name. There were many times when Shane was on the tip of his tongue but he managed to pivot to Hollander just in time. Shane never noticed, or if he did, he never brought it up, though he frequently switched between Ilya and Rosonov based on the context.
That all changed during Ilya’s last week in Boston. Shane had visited to help him pack and Ilya felt on edge in a way he couldn’t explain. That evening, they had been bringing packed boxes by the front door so the movers could efficiently take it away. Every time Shane headed toward the hallway, Ilya felt his heart inexplicably pound. He’d watch the entrance to his bedroom like a hawk, waiting for Shane to reappear, his ears trained to listen carefully for the footsteps.
Still, Ilya pushed through till there were no more boxes left and he could collapse onto the sofa, curling around Shane like an octopus. He began kissing Shane along his jaw, Shane melting into the touch. “Really?” he prodded half heartedly. “We still have so much to do.”
“We should take break,” Ilya muttered, nosing Shane’s throat.
“A break or a workout?”
Ilya nipped at the base of Shane’s neck. “I want to leave house with good memories.”
Shane smiled to himself, biting back a groan. In one swift motion, he turned, pinning Ilya against the couch. Shane leaned down for a kiss and broke it off too soon. “Bedroom,” he muttered, voice throaty. Shane stood up, leaving a stunned Ilya on the sofa.
When Ilya stumbled into the bedroom, Shane took charge, shoving Ilya to the bed and taking his clothes off. Ilya didn’t fight back, keen on seeingwhat Shane would do. As it always did, things got intense, this time, Ilya completely losing himself to Shane’s touch as Shane drove him to pleasure.
Shane. The name slipped out, first as a desperate plea which, then, evolved into a chant, a prayer. Shane. Shane. Shane. Shane. Shane.
Ilya was lost, in another realm surrounded by Shane, his touch, his feel, his voice. Seeing Ilya lose control, hearing him say Shane’s name with such reverence, snapped something in Shane as he grew more intense, wanting to coax more and more until they both came undone.
Shane collapsed on Ilya, sucking love bites into his skin before moving up to capture Ilya’s lips into a slow, languid kiss. Ilya responded, more from instinct than conscious awareness. When Shane pulled apart, Ilya’s eyes were still hazy.
“Baby?” Shane asked, “Are you okay?” The teasing tone masking his concern.
“I love you, Shane.” Ilya said, breathless.
Shane kissed his forehead. “I love you too, Ilya.”
Shane got off the bed, mumbling something about cleaning off before cuddling and going to bed. Ilya didn’t register any of it.
He only knew three things: He had said Shane’s name. Shane had said his. And now, Shane wasn’t there.
Shane left.
Again.
He left him after saying his name.
Again.
Ilya tried to blink through the fog but couldn’t. Tears slid down his cheeks toward his ears. He didn’t have the strength to wipe it away.
Shane was gone.
He wasn’t coming back.
The next time Ilya saw him, it would be with someone else. Ilya had put his heart on the table and Shane was gone. Shane was gone.
Suddenly, he was being pulled into someone’s arms. A soothing voice muttered something in his ear that he couldn’t make out. He felt a warm, wet cloth wipe at his stomach before he was wrapped warmth, arms holding him tight. Some of the sound broke through the haze.
“I’m sorry,” he muttered as gentle thumbs wiped his tears away.
“It’s okay. You have nothing to be sorry for.” Shane said.
“I said your name.” Ilya muttered, gathering every ounce of strength. “You left.”
“No,” Shane insisted, desperately, rocking Ilya in his arms. “No, Il—” Shane stopped, the name catching in his throat. “No, baby. I was right here. I was in the bathroom so that I could clean us off. I was coming right back to you. I promise. I was coming back to kiss you and hold you until we fell asleep. I am going to be right here when you wake up.”
“Promise?”
Shane nodded into Ilya’s hair. “I promise, baby. Get some sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.”
Thankfully, that’s all it took for Ilya to close his eyes. Within minutes, his breathing evened out and Shane was left wondering what happened.