Chapter Text
“I did think, let’s go about this slowly.
This is important. This should take
some really deep thought. We should take
small thoughtful steps.
But, bless us, we didn’t.”
—Mary Oliver
It’s a night like this where Shane has to wonder where it all went wrong. The smell of cigarette smoke lingers because Ilya couldn’t help but smoke before coming here. The hum of the dishwasher was haunting in a way. Shane feels like this will be the last time. He thought that nearly fifty times ago. But Ilya smells like cigarette smoke and Shane could never admit that he finds comfort in that. They’ll kill you but at least I know you’ve lived to smoke another one. You’ll kill me but at least I had you. At least I know you. I’m so fucking glad I know you.
“The northern lights might be visible in Moscow this year.” Shane said, finally starting the conversation he’s been playing in his head for the past week.
“What would you know about the Northern lights in Moscow?"
“I know enough.” Shane murmured as he pulled at the string on the arm of his hoodie. Ilya, who was sitting at the kitchen counter, looked back down at his phone as if there was something more interesting on the screen. “It only happens a few times a year but It’s hard to see because of the city’s pollution.”
“Yes.”
“Have you ever seen them? I haven’t but I heard it’s breathtaking.”
Shane winced at his own failure to never leave well enough alone. Ilya turned his phone down onto the counter and cleared his throat in a way that stated fine you have my attention.
Do I have your attention? I swear I see the aurora borealis in your hands when they touch me. Shane hates that he knows Ilya hasn’t touched him, not once, since coming here. I swear I’m not crazy when I think of you drenched in those green lights, drenched in the afterglow of our sighs because we finally saw the lights together. I’ve been reading about the probability of seeing them in Moscow because for some stupid reason, I thought it’d make me feel closer to you.
“I saw them once. As a child.”
Shane tugged the string on his hoodie until it snapped and now he held it in his fist. He needed to discard it. He couldn’t just throw it on the floor. Ilya was watching him and Shane was scared to move an inch because Ilya might bolt like a deer who’s being hunted.
What were you like as a child? Does Russia have ice cream trucks that play a nostalgic song while you lay by the lakeside? Did you learn how to ride a bike and then hide baby teeth under pillows?
“I also heard that in Moscow—”
“Shane. Enough about Moscow.” Ilya said, far too gently to make Shane think he was upset.
“Why are you here?”
I swear, I swear, I swear I can hear your thoughts and they’re beautiful and they scare me.
“I’m sorry you saw the video.” Ilya sighed, pushing away from the counter and stepping into Shane’s space. Shane eyed him timidly and hoped Ilya would touch him. Just a touch, anything to feel tangible. Just a touch, anything to make sense of this white hot liquid leaking into his chest. It was now beginning to pool inside his stomach. He was drowning and he could never admit the reason why.
“I don’t care about the video.” Shane said, stepping around Ilya to open the fridge. Ilya leaned over, effortlessly, and closed the fridge door before Shane could grab a ginger ale. “I don’t care that you fuck women.”
“Ah.” Ilya said, nodding slowly. “So you liked the video?”
“No, asshole. I just mean I don’t care what you do in your free time.”
“I do this in my free time.” Ilya said, now gripping Shane’s jaw so their eyes would meet. Shane was aware of the flood within him but if he looked too close, for too long, it might just come spilling out. He might just let the misery and want take over and then what? He’d be left with the man, who’s standing right in front him, and his confession of you never meant that much to me anyways.
“I watched the video until I felt sick.” Shane said, leaning into Ilya’s orbit. His senseless, undeniable orbit.
“Solnyshko. Why?” Ilya breathed out, bringing his hands to rest on both sides of Shane’s face. Shane couldn’t look him in the eye anymore. He was nauseous again and Ilya was being, pretending to be, someone who was more than what Shane deserved. “Shane.”
“Don’t.”
Ilya took that quite literally and did not say another word as he finally pressed his lips to Shane’s. Don’t say anything else or I might just break into a million pieces, pieces that I have tried so hard to fit together. Once Ilya’s tongue had made its way into Shane’s mouth, Shane was already using Ilya’s body to hold himself up. His legs had gone weak, his muscles atrophying in the wake of too much desire. He was a weak, weak man. Useless in the pursuit of getting what he wanted. Helpless when it came to Ilya Rozanov. And so pathetic because as Ilya pushes him against the wall, he’s thinking of the woman in the video. Ilya had her pressed to the brick wall outside a nearby club. A fan had videoed the two of them kissing, hungrily. Ilya uses his hands to hike up her dress and then she’s pointing to the camera and Ilya is stepping closer into frame to tell them to leave. Part of Shane knows that Ilya enjoyed it. He also thinks Ilya enjoyed that the video had gone viral.
“Do you like kissing me?”
“Very much.” Ilya said, biting at the sensitive part of Shane’s neck.
“Do you think of other people when you kiss me?”
“Why would I do this when I have perfectly good man right here.” Ilya might’ve meant for it to be lighthearted but it sounded so sincere that Shane shuddered, violently enough to get Ilya’s attention. He raised his eyebrow and caught Shane’s bottom lip with his thumb. “Don’t watch the video again.”
“I can’t help it.”
“Let’s go to your room.”
And this, this is something Shane can do. He can let Ilya take him upstairs and let Ilya take him apart. It wasn't all that bad or unnatural or simply out of reach. Simple in the way you understand that snakes are venomous. Don’t touch one. But you can’t help it if it bites you. You can’t help it no matter how hard you try to follow the rules. You’ll try to discipline yourself into the natural order of things. You’ll still be prey. You’ll still be mortal. Hockey will fade with age and men will always be the one thing Shane could not give in to. Even if Ilya was here, now, in his home, pressing wildfire-like kisses into his skin. He won’t give in to it. But Ilya feels so warm and good and he’s like a fever that won’t break. Shane wants the natural order of things to be Ilya and his hands and his mouth. Shane wants to play Hockey until his body deteriorates. Shane wants to die without regrets. But he has too many. Too many to rewrite. And Ilya is here. Ilya is devoting himself to Shane even if they won’t name it. Shane will beg tonight and maybe tomorrow. Shane will regret that too.
With steady hands, Shane led Ilya up the staircase. He felt off balance and too warm. Ilya pressed a kiss to his shoulder, arms already around him by the time they crossed the threshold. Shane, still trapped in Ilya’s orbit, spun around and caught his mouth with his own. Ilya hummed into the kiss and walked Shane backwards. He felt his legs hit into the bed and it gave his body permission to collapse.
“You’re wasted on me.” Ilya murmured, kisses like daggers along Shane’s skin.
“Don’t say that.”
“I want to fuck you.”
“Alright, okay.”
They’ve done this a million times. Ilya has been inside Shane night, day, and morning. He’s made him come, brought him close to unconsciousness, and then revived him with beautiful words that Shane keeps locked away, only to revisit them when the loneliness gets bad again.
It’s always bound to get bad again.
I swear, I swear, I swear you can fuck me and win all our face offs, I swear I will give this to you and expect nothing in return.
“Condoms are—”
“Yes, I know.” Ilya huffed, reaching over to the bedside drawer.
“Do you get tested?”
Ilya made his way back onto Shane and caressed his cheek with the back of his hand.
“Yes, often. Are you worried?”
Shane looked away and Ilya grabbed his chin. In a sort of gentle way that made him ache. Shane wanted to pout, as childish as it may seem. He was now submerged in the flood. The yellow bird of his heart was flapping. He was looking at Ilya, his eyes like that deer he always dreams of. A deer he so desperately wants to understand and nurture.
Ilya looked at Shane and waited because Shane hadn’t answered yet. Shane had nothing to say. And Ilya knew this because he kissed the tip of Shane’s nose and spoke.
“What do you need, Shane?”
It’s a sick need. A very sick need that haunts and bites and Shane might lose that battle one day because he, in reality, needs and needs and needs, and will probably keep needing until his body returns to the earth. Does he see Ilya as the earth or perhaps the moon? Or maybe Ilya is a planet that has yet to be placed or named. He just floats and exists and Shane is grasping at the air, grasping and clawing, anything to be in his orbit. Shane would do anything, risk anything; sell his cottage, gamble away his money, owe everything with Ilya’s name as the debt. Ilya is a planet that is inhabited by lush green forests and gentle deer that come out to the lake at sunset. He is the planet that astrologers could only dream of and Shane is a dead man walking because Ilya does not need him and maybe he does not need Ilya. And yet he needs. And he needs. He so desperately needs and he thinks he’ll sell the cottage just to get out of this alive. There’s still time. There’s still time for us. But I will never say that. Watch me take that back into the earth with me. Watch me lose you before I get to even have you.
“I need you inside me.” Shane said, plainly.
“Yes.” Ilya said, nodding. It was always the plan. Their unspoken longings were always hanging between them like vines that threatened to strangle them. Ilya carefully undid Shane’s pants, pulling them off in a fluid motion as he kissed each piece of skin it revealed. Shane closed his eyes and tried not to make a sound because it would give Ilya leverage. Ilya would use it against him as if to say See I told you, I knew you’d get too involved.
When Shane did open his eyes, Ilya was moving to take off his own clothes, dipping down after each layer to kiss Shane’s neck and mouth. Shane’s hands came up to frame Ilya’s face as he sighed.
“Rozanov.”
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know my name, lyubimyy.”
“It’s Rozanov.” Shane smiled, leaning up to kiss Ilya’s throat. Ilya remained serious, staring at him like his eyes could wield the truth from Shane. And the truth was, Shane kept Ilya’s name in his chest as hostage, the pronunciation of it carved into his lungs. “Ilyusha.”
“There we go.”
Shane let out a soft whine, too immersed to be embarrassed and pulled Ilya completely against him so their mouths could mold together. They stayed like that, kissing and intertwined for quite some time before Ilya began to work his way down Shane’s body. Shane knew what was going to happen but he still couldn’t help the shocked groan that escaped from him when he felt Ilya’s tongue press into him. Ilya gave a content hum once Shane grew louder, spreading his legs and adding a finger. No matter how many times they made a habit out of this, Shane had always seemed to forget just how good it felt. Just how damaging it was to everything else in Shane’s life because nothing could ever come close. Hockey was his life but surely this, right now, was something Shane could die doing.
And just when Shane was about to demand Ilya give him more, Ilya was already removing his fingers, trailing tantalizing kisses up his torso.
“Ready?” Ilya murmured, a bit breathless.
Shane nodded. Their eyes locked for one agonizingly long minute.
“Okay.” Ilya finally said, lining up with Shane’s entrance and shifting his hips forward. Shane’s hand flew up to Ilya’s shoulders and gripped hard enough to leave a bruise. Ilya groaned and his forehead fell into the crook of Shane’s neck.
“You feel good.” Ilya said, still taking his time to push all the way in. Shane was already seeing colors and his thighs were shaking and he was suddenly so close to crying that he nearly gasped out a sob. He urged Ilya to move faster and the pleasure was suddenly working its way into his eyes, his throat, his fingertips. It was everywhere. Ilya was all around him and the pleasure was blinding and the girl in the video was smiling as Ilya kissed her.
“Shane?”
Ilya’s voice broke him free and his mind came back to the room. It’s okay, I’m okay, you feel so good. Keep going. It’s at least what Shane thought he said but then he felt a ragged breath heave from his chest and suddenly he was crying in Ilya’s arms, tears all over his and Ilya’s skin.
“Sorry. I’m sorry.” Shane whispered.
“Did I hurt you?” Ilya asked, so sincerely that it just made Shane cry harder.
“No, no, never.” Shane managed to get out. Ilya rolled off and pulled Shane into him, tight and lovingly.
“Tell me what’s wrong?”
Shane stayed silent, contemplating his bravery. Should he come clean? Should he risk losing this for the truth?
“The video.” Shane said, inhaling sharply because he couldn’t breath. It was close to the feeling of the past, slurs thrown around in the locker room as Shane would keep his head down and prayed it wasn't obvious. Prayed that no one else saw right through him.
“Does it bother you? Me sleeping with other people?”
“If I said yes, would that change anything?”
Ilya seemed to be contemplating that, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns into Shane’s arm. Shane was on the verge of throwing up. He wasn’t going to be able to stop crying until there was nothing left to shed and then Ilya was going to walk out, leaving him to drown in a sea of his own making.
“Forget it.” Shane sighed, dragging a hand down his face to get rid of the evidence.
“It could change things.” Ilya murmured.
The deer in you is kicking its hooves against your ribcage, I can feel it.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.” Ilya said, the deer grazing the meadow of your heart.
“I know we’ve never made up rules for this. Never put a label to it. But Ilyusha, you’re all I think about. You take care of me like no one ever has.”
“I understand.” Ilya said, the deer caught in headlights.
“Do you?” Shane said, finally looking up at Ilya. Ilya looked back with heat and hurt and the deer was now lost in the dead of winter.
“We were too young when we decided to start this. We’ve been reckless. But yes, I understand. This is just as hard for me.”
“Can you kiss me?”
“You promise you won’t cry again?"
“Fuck off.” Shane laughed as Ilya gripped his chin, using his tongue to part Shane’s lips. Shane kissed him for as long as Ilya allowed, which turned out to be forever. Or at least that’s what it felt like. Shane kept their mouths together as he straddled Ilya. Ilya’s hands pressed into his pecs and squoze. They were both hard again. Shane was feeling a bit lighter and Ilya seemed to want to stay. Shane hadn’t scared him off.
“So no sleeping with other people.” Ilya said, pouring lube over his hand and using two fingers this time to open Shane up. Shane moaned and rocked back into the pressure. “Anything else?”
Shane was out of his mind and Ilya was fucking him with his hand, looking at him like he was a work of art. But in reality, it was Ilya who was art. His hellenistic form. His curls curved in directions that had their own way of forming halos. Ilya was a labyrinth of beauty. Shane never got tired of getting lost in him. So as Ilya gazed at Shane with eyes hooded with lust and had asked anything else? Shane made sure to be intentional with each kiss before finally stopping at the sensitive part of Ilya’s neck. He felt Ilya shiver. It gave him the push he needed.
“Marry me.”
“Shane.”
“Ilyusha, marry me.”
“Don’t say that. Please.” Ilya swallowed.
“Why not?”
“Because you will not like my answer.”
Shane felt the yellow bird retreat and hated himself for thinking it could just fly away. He was holding Ilya and Ilya was holding him back but more tears didn’t come. He just felt hollow.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t fair of me.” Shane said, attempting to stand up but Ilya held him in place.
“Solnyshko, stay. Let me have you for the night.”
“I don’t get you.” Shane muttered, brushing back Ilya’s curls from his forehead.
“I think you get me a little too well.” Ilya said, laying Shane back onto the bed.
Ilya fucked him slow and Shane didn’t cry, though he wanted to. Ilya whispered, I’m sorry and Shane almost didn’t forgive him. It was hard to love a man who was as skittish as the deer that resided in him. Ilya put a hand around Shane’s neck and pressed lightly. Shane arched his back off the mattress and memorized the way Ilya was solely devoting his body to Shane’s. Marry me. Ilya began to fuck him harder. Marry me. Ilya kissed Shane and pulled his hair. Marry me. Ilya was coming, collapsing onto Shane with a deep sigh. Marry me. Once his breathing had evened out, he took Shane’s cock into his mouth and swallowed as Shane’s own orgasm hit.
“I do have to go soon.” Ilya said after a few moments of silence.
“Okay.” Shane said to the ceiling.
“Don’t be like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like, sore loser.” Ilya said, waving his hand like he couldn’t remember the correct English word.
“If you want to sleep with other people, then do it.”
“I already said I wouldn’t.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” Ilya said, planting a kiss on Shane’s cheek and then rolling off the bed to grab his clothes.
“When will I see you next?”
“Boston and Montreal don’t play each other for a month but I can come here next week?”
“Just let me know what days and I’ll clear my schedule.”
Ilya continued to get dressed as Shane put on sweats because he felt exposed. He’d have to shower soon, he felt sticky with sweat and lube. He wanted to ask Ilya to stay and shower with him. But Ilya was already dressed and ready. He was staring at Shane, one foot out the door.
“Text me when you get back to Boston.” Shane said.
“I will. Goodbye.” Ilya said, kissing Shane once on the mouth and then he was gone.
It could’ve gone worse but god, Shane felt uneasy. He didn’t bother with the shower. He laid in bed and waited for sleep to take over. Anything to quiet the noise in his head. And by morning if the uneasiness hadn’t subsided, he’ll just have to tell Ilya that this was a mistake, that he pushed for too much. They were better at being something that had no name, no expectations. Yet when Shane hit play on the video before falling asleep, he couldn’t deny the relief he felt knowing Ilya was just as willing to give up something for him. Shane fell asleep to the sound of the video like he had every night before. It’s just that the familiarity of the sensation that resembled envy was comforting because while painful, it made Shane feel closer to Ilya. He always wanted to be this close. Always. But being close to Ilya, the sun, was risky. Shane’s wings of wax and feathers could give out and all that would be left is Shane’s career but no one by his side. That used to be enough. Just the hockey. Nothing else. Now Shane was flying close to the sun and he didn’t care where it led him. He didn’t care that the girl in the video had her hands in Ilya’s curls. He didn’t care that he hadn’t dreamt of Ilya in days. He didn’t care that he was lying to himself. Ilya, the sun. Shane swore his skin felt like an open flame.
Shane swore he never wanted to feel anything else but the burn.