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Shane has a problem.
A very… interesting problem. He’s usually a quiet student who barely catches anyone’s attention. Sure, he’s gotten a few confessions but other than that, he’s kind of just in the background of everything and that’s fine. He genuinely prefers it and everyone knows he does so they leave him alone. That isn’t the problem.
The problem is, someone has been leaving plushies and notes in his locker for the past month. More specifically, snoopy plushies. Everyday, he goes to his locker and sees a new type of snoopy plushie shoved inside and a disgustingly sweet note which makes him flush in private. He has no clue who’s doing all of this. Genuinely. He doesn’t really think he’s anyone’s crush so…why would someone go out of their way and buy so many plushies and spend the time writing sweet notes just for him?
It’s really weird. Today, it’s a snoopy keychain. It’s a small plushie attached to a keychain. The plushie’s eyes are closed, its ears resting. He blinks, his hands opening the folded note shoved hastily right against the opening of his locker. He’s gentle, making sure the paper doesn’t tear on its way out. He stares at the little note in his hands, folding it open.
‘You looked sleepy today so here is sleepy snoopy. He looks just like you. - 81’
- He has no idea who 81 is. He bites his lip, slowly slipping the note inside his bag while clipping the keychain to one of the zips on his bag, trying to be discreet while standing in a hallway full of people. He glances around, wondering who could be leaving all these plushies for him. His eyes dart straight to Rozanov. He doesn’t know why.
‘Yeah, no, definitely not him.’— he thinks, his eyes half lidded. No way Rozanov out of all people would go through the effort of buying a different plushie everyday just for him. There’s just no way.
Maybe JJ? Maybe Hayden? He doesn’t know. Maybe his friends are just pulling a prank on him. That seems more likely than the thought of Rozanov doing all of this for him despite both of them not even being here because he hasn’t even talked properly to the guy. The first interaction they ever had resulted in the blonde haired boy running away from him and they haven’t talked ever since then. Not even during hockey practice after school. They just don’t talk.
However, even though they don’t talk, he still finds Rozanov irritating mainly because of one thing. Somehow, someway, the boy always scores higher than him or the same as him in every single exam without lifting a single finger. It annoys him, yes, but…not enough to dislike him.
But it can’t be Rozanov. He probably doesn’t even know he exists.
‘Though, 81 is his jersey number’— his brain uselessly supplies as he swallows a lump in his throat.
It’s not Rozanov.
It can’t be.
He ignores all the thoughts he has about Rozanov and goes straight to class. He isn’t going to waste his time thinking about something impossible.
There’s no way it’s Rozanov, right?
~
He doesn’t wait for anyone today. Somehow, all three of his friends are in different countries at the same time so he’s just…alone. It feels humiliating walking into class alone and sitting down at his desk. He doesn’t like being the first one to enter the class. He doesn't know why it feels so weird. He swallows a lump in his throat and walks inside, his gaze glued to the floor as he takes his seat against the window on the second row. Not exactly at the back and not exactly at the front. Just where he can hide from the teachers' peering eyes. He keeps his head down on the table, his arms crossed underneath his head. He pretends to sleep but really, he’s just listening to other people walk inside with their friends, talking and laughing about things he can’t make out.
He hears Rozanov. He hears him talking to his friends…maybe near the door and groaning about something. Probably the fact that he has to sit next to Shane for the whole day. He doesn’t know. He’s going to assume that because he doesn’t think Rozanov is too fond of him. He always stares at him in this…intense way but never says a word to him. Hell, when he first tried to talk to the blonde haired boy, he just looked at him and walked away. After that, he made a note in his head to never try to talk to anyone unless they approach him. It’s not that he can’t talk. He can. He just…isn’t good at it. He doesn’t blame Rozanov for not wanting to talk to him. Sure, in his head, he does criticize him for a lot of things— like somehow scoring higher than him in a math test— but he won’t criticize him for leaving the second he talked to him. That would be weird.
He stiffens up when he finally hears Rozanov slip into his seat right next to him. He squeezes his eyes shut, still trying to pretend to sleep.
“Wow, first time I have seen you sleep in class, Hollander.” A voice next to him says and he jumps, his eyes widening as he glances, “Huh?” He mumbles, surprised. He didn’t expect Rozanov to actually…talk to him. Not really. “What?”
“You did not hear me?”
“No, no, I heard you.”
“Okay…so why did you jump? Am I that scary, Hollander?” The blonde haired boy teases and Shane genuinely feels like he’s having a whiplash. This is their first ever interaction and…he’s getting teased. What the hell.
“Uh, no,” he says dumbly, his brows furrowing, “you just never talk to me so I just…got surprised.” He finishes, his voice quiet as his hands fall onto his lap, clenching and unclenching into fists at random times. Rozanov looks at him with an unreadable expression and for a second he wonders if he fucked up a conversation with him for a second time until the other boy finally speaks, “Ah. Yes. That is my fault. I am sorry. You tried to speak to me but I ran away.”
Shane blinks, “Yeah, you did…why?” He asks carefully, almost bracing himself for an answer that’s going to be rude— something about how weird and quiet he is, about how he only has three friends.
“I, ah, did not…know English very well that time. Did not want to embarrass myself in front of you.”
Oh. That answer…actually surprises him a little. He genuinely thought for a second Rozanov would be mean to him. He tilts his head, “you…didn’t want to embarrass yourself in front of me?”
“Da, I did not want to embarrass myself in front of smart and pretty Shane Hollander in our first…uh..”
“Conversation.” Shane gently finishes for him. His fingers twitch on his lap, knee bouncing up and down.
“Yes. I did not want to embarrass myself in front of you in our first conversation.”
“I thought you just didn’t…like me.” He blurts out, taking in the blonde haired boy’s expression, morphing from a neutral one to an incredulous one. “Why would I not like you? I did not even know you.”
“I don’t know, okay? Well, I mean…I didn’t…really like you at first?”
“Is that so? Perfect golden boy Hollander did not like me?” Rozanov tilts his head, his chin resting on his palm as he shifts his chair closer.
“No, I mean— I just-“
“You were mad I got better grades than you, hmm?”
Fuck. How did he—? Shane doesn’t even want to know how Rozanov already figured him out. He gulps, nodding his head meekly. He expects the conversation to be over at this point, for the other boy to think he’s not worth his time because of what he just admitted.
“Ah, is okay, I would also not like someone if they were as good as me.” Rozanov chirped. He huffs, “Fuck off.” , trying to bite back a small smile at the way the blonde haired boy lights up.
“No, I don’t think I will. I want to stay here sitting next to pretty Hollander.”
Pretty Hollander. He swallows a lump in his throat, “Do you?” He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Yes, who else will I cheat off of and get a hundred?” The other boy replies easily.
A beat of silence passes by them. Shane’s eyes widen.
“Wait, wait what—?” He almost shouts, looking at Rozanov with a truly shocked look. “No, no way, you were actually cheating off of me?!” He hisses, his big brown eyes filled with surprise and…happiness. Somewhat. He knew it. He fucking knew it!
“Yes, I did…you will not snitch on me, yes, Hollander?” Rozanov asks and he’s never shaken his head harder. Just the fact that he was actually right about Rozanov cheating is enough to brighten him up. He knew it! Though , he does think the boy is smart. He can answer questions easily but…it just helps knowing that Rozanov was cheating off of him. Meaning he got those scores because of him.
It makes him feel useful for a second.
“No, I won’t.” He smiles and truly means it.
He doesn’t notice Rozanov looking at him with an almost fond expression.
He also doesn’t realize how bad of a liar Rozanov really is.
~
The second he gets home, he goes inside his closet and turns the light on, looking at all the snoopy’s he’s gotten so far. In the past three weeks, he’s gotten five plushies. Five separate snoopy plushies with five separate notes. He looks at each snoopy, all of them placed in order of when he got them. A snoopy birthday plushie— which he somehow actually got on his birthday— with the note ‘Happy birthday, pretty Shane. We have exam but Snoopy will celebrate birthday with you -81.’ The English is a bit wonky but…the note does warm his heart a little because no one really…talked to him on his birthday. They just went to study and he can’t blame them, of course, but just the thought of someone caring enough to leave something like this on his birthday was sweet.
The first plushie and note came on his birthday. The second came a week after. A snoopy laying down with a little smile on its face as if it’s relaxed. The note with it reads— ‘Exams are over. Now rest like Snoopy. -81.’. He remembers when he saw the plushie and note at first. He really did think someone was pranking him. He still does think someone is pranking him but no one would put this much effort in for a prank. At least, no sane person.
The third plushie came a week after the second, a snoopy sitting with the same smile on its face, the same little relaxed smile. Like the first two, it came with a note— ‘You sit like this in class. -81.’— which he does not agree with. He doesn’t sit like that in class.
At least, he doesn’t think so.
The fourth plushie came on the fourth week of getting plushies. This time, it’s not a snoopy sitting or laying down. It’s a pink snoopy. It’s so cute he might weep. He really does think it’s cute. He looks at the note he placed in front of it, ‘special Snoopy for special boy. -81’
Special boy. Special snoopy. This person thinks he’s special. He swallows a lump in his throat, his fingers twitching as he starts to feel a warm and fuzzy feeling in his stomach. The note shouldn’t woo him as much as it does but god, he does have to admit that all of this really is adorable.
The fifth and last plushie is the cutest out of all of them in his opinion. It’s Snoopy in a boys scout costume, that same relaxed little smile plastered on its lips. It has a little green hat on its head and a red ribbon tied around its neck. It’s so cute that he can’t help but squeeze its face for a moment before glancing down at the note, ‘You would wear the same hat. -81’. He almost scoffs fondly, no he would not.
He steps back, glancing at all the Snoopy’s and notes once again. He looks at the handwriting and feels a fuzzy feeling form in his stomach when he realizes that the handwriting looks eerily similar to…Rozanov’s.
Rozanov…taking time out of his day to do all of this for him. After that conversation they had in class, it does seem a little believable but he still doesn’t think it’s him.
Why would Rozanov do all of this? He doesn’t do anything like this for anyone so why would he do it for him? Maybe to thank him for letting him cheat off of him? He doesn’t know.
Though, the thought of Rozanov doing this for him leaves a sweet feeling in his stomach.
~
He gets ready early the next morning. He’s going to get ready early and he’s going to find out who’s been leaving all of these plushies and notes in his locker. He’s not going to confront them, obviously. He just— he’s so curious. He wants to know who in their right mind is spending this much effort on him. The curiosity is stronger than his exhaustion so he gets up extra early, takes a shower, wears his uniform and leaves without breakfast because the feeling of giddiness in his stomach ruins his appetite.
He doesn’t know why he feels so giddy. He doesn’t know why he feels even more giddy when he realizes that there’s a possibility that Rozanov is the one doing this for him. That's weird. Really weird. So weird that he definitely doesn’t think about it on his way to school.
The second he sees the familiar building of his school, he slows his pace, walking carefully so that his footsteps are barely audible. He’s so quiet that he can’t even hear his own breath for a second, though that might be because of how fast his heart is thumping. He makes it close to his locker before hiding behind a set of lockers nearby while peeking his head out.
He watches as a blonde curly haired boy goes to his locker with a note and a new Snoopy plushie.
Blonde curly haired boy.
Blonde.
Curly hair.
Rozanov.
He blinks, his eyes wide as his jaw drops, he can’t stop himself before he blurts— “Rozanov?!” his big brown eyes watching the blonde haired boy startle and fucking jump away from the locker, his hands empty but the locker filled with the plushie and note.
He hears Rozanov curse something under his breath before looking up at him with a guilty expression. “What— what are you doing?” He finally manages to ask, looking at the guilty boy as he walks closer to him.
“What does it look like I am doing, Hollander?” Rozanov deadpans, looking at him with his head tilted.
“Wait, wait— so you were the one-?”
“Leaving Snoopy and note in your locker, yes. That was me.”
“But— but why?!”
Rozanov gives him a look, filled with frustration, “Because I like you, Hollander! I want to take you out, for fucks sake!” He hisses, looking at Shane with furrowed brows and deeply pretty blue eyes.
Shane feels like he’s been punched in the chest.
“You—? You like me?” He asks, making sure he heard that right. Ilya Rozanov, the boy who everyone has a crush on and loves, likes him, Boring Shane Hollander.
“Yes, I like you. I like you a lot, okay?” The blonde haired boy admits quietly, almost sounding vulnerable. Shane feels like he’s about to explode with how overwhelmed he feels. This is insane.
“I— fuck, I don’t- I don’t know what to say.” He manages to squeak out, glancing at the snoopy plushie shoved into his locker. A Snoopy in an Orange spacesuit with a helmet. It’s adorable. It’s so fucking cute he might squish it right in front of Rozanov. He isn’t able to read the note properly but he can tell it’s probably going to be as cute as the other ones.
“It is okay if you do not like me back, Hollander.” Rozanov, no, Ilya, gently speaks and he feels his heart warm up a bit at the instant reassurance. Shane’s gaze softens as he looks at the taller boy, his hands clenching as he nods his head.
“Is…is it okay if I think about it a little?” He asks and Ilya nods his head without a beat of hesitation, plastering on a sad smile.
“Take all the time you need, Shane.”
He feels butterflies in his stomach.
~
Ilya really does not expect to get anything back from Shane. He doesn’t expect Shane to come to him and tell him that he likes him. It hurts, it hurts so bad because Shane really is the first boy he truly likes. The first boy he’s done all of this for but he’s able to somewhat get over it. Somewhat. Moving to Canada was rough as it is and now he feels like he’s ruined his entire year by getting caught and admitting that he likes Shane. Likes, not even liked. He still likes him. He likes him so much it pains him. Those big brown eyes could make him weep.
He’s spent the past few weeks thinking and thinking while his father puts more and more pressure on him about school, hockey, everything.
He just wants his mama.
He misses her so bad. If she were here, she’d put his head on her lap and play with his hair and tell him, “It’s okay, Ilyusha. It’s okay.” gently while he cries and cries but she’s not here anymore.
She’s not here so he puts his chin up and goes to school like he’s been doing for the past few weeks after that…very obvious rejection from Shane.
He makes it to his locker without anyone coming to talk to him and for once, he’s grateful for that. He raises a brow when he sees a little note shoved in the door of the locker. He pulls it out gently and folds it open.
‘I want to go out with you too. -24.’
His eyes widened. They get so big that he’s sure it looks like they’re fucking bulging out of his head but he feels his breath catch. 24. Shane. Shane’s jersey number. He shoves the note in his pocket and opens his locker to see a…Woodstock plushie carefully kept inside. He feels so hyper that he’s surprised he hasn’t started jumping around already. He glances back and sees Shane go inside their classroom, not before making eye contact with him and ducking his head down with a shy smile.
Oh.
The grin that forms on his face is the realest one he’s ever had for the first time in a long time.