Chapter Text
The kitchen smelled like butter, dill, and slow-simmered broth.
Shane had insisted on hosting which meant that Ilya had insisted on cooking, making a snide remark about “bird food” and “rabbit food.”
Which meant the afternoon had been spent with Ilya moving carefully around the kitchen, explaining each dish while Shane hovered nearby, stealing bites and pretending not to be emotional about it.
Pelmeni, hand-folded and delicate.
Golubtsy, cabbage rolls simmered until they practically melted.
Black bread sliced neatly, bowls of sour cream and pickled vegetables arranged just so.
A honey cake cooling on the counter, layered and patient.
“This is… a lot,” Shane had said softly earlier.
Ilya had only shrugged.
“He does not know me,” he’d said. “Food is easier than words.”
The soft chime of the doorbell echoed through the house, immediately sending Anya scrambling across the hardwood floors, her nails clicking excitedly as she bounded toward the entryway.
“I’ll get it,” Shane said automatically, laughing quietly as the dog circled his legs.
As he passed behind Ilya, he leaned down and pressed a quick, absentminded kiss to his lips, the kind born from habit more than thought. Ilya barely looked up from arranging the tray of dumplings, though one hand briefly caught Shane’s wrist before letting him go again. By the time Shane opened the door, warmth spilled out into the cold evening air.
Jackie Pike stood on the porch with an easy smile and a bottle of wine tucked against her chest. Beside her, Hayden lingered stiffly, hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, an unreadable look settled across his face that immediately made something uneasy twist low in Shane’s stomach.
Shane took their coats Jackie stood just inside the apartment, taking it all in.
Photos lined the walls. Not just of Shane and Ilya, but of their family.
One from Christmas with Shane in a terrible sweater, Ilya pretending not to smile, Yuna curled between them on the couch, David standing behind with his hands on both their shoulders.
Another from a beach vacation where they’re sunburned and laughing, David mid-gesture, Yuna squinting into the light, Shane leaning into Ilya without thinking.
Several of just Ilya with Yuna and David: cooking together, clinking glasses, arms slung easily around each other like family. A photo of Ilya, Shane, and Anya sandwiched in the middle on the dock at the cottage.
The family they built. The family they chose.
Jackie smiled despite the tension curling in her chest.
Hayden didn’t look at a single photo.
He sat stiffly at the table while Shane carried over a bowl of pelmeni and Ilya followed with the golubtsy, filled with the hope that the evening could still go well.
“Careful,” Ilya said quietly. “These are hot.”
Shane smiled at him.
Jackie laughed softly. “This smells incredible.”
“Thank you,” Ilya said.
He sat beside Shane instead of across from him. Their knees touched. His hand rested briefly against Shane’s thigh before retreating.
Hayden stared at his plate.
He hadn’t acknowledged Ilya once.
Not when they arrived.
Not when Ilya greeted him.
Not now.
Jackie felt the air tighten, but tried to steer the evening into something that wouldn’t crash and burn.
Shane explained the dishes, repeating what Ilya had told him earlier. Jackie asked questions. Ilya answered politely, carefully.
Hayden stayed silent.
Then he set his fork down.
“You’re really doing this.”
The room stilled and every one turned towards Hayden.
Shane looked up. “Doing what?”
Hayden gestured around the apartment. “All of this.”
Jackie inhaled slowly. “Hayden—”
“No,” he said. “Look at this place.”
Under the table, Ilya’s hand found Shane’s knee without hesitation, his thumb brushing once in a slow, grounding motion.
Shane felt the touch instantly, the steady reassurance of it settling somewhere beneath the tightness growing in his chest.
“We live here?” Shane said carefully, but questioning the point of Hayden’s statement.
“I know,” Hayden replied, glancing vaguely around the house. His expression tightened slightly. “I just… I didn’t realize it was going to be like this.”
“Like what?”
Hayden didn’t answer.
Jackie leaned forward. “Choose your next sentence very carefully.”
But Hayden was already looking at Shane.
“You built your life around him, Shane! This is insane!”
Shane blinked. “We built a life together.”
Hayden scoffed.
“You’ve known about this for a year,” Shane continued. “And you still refuse to even look at him.”
“I don’t need to,” Hayden said.
“That’s ridiculous,” Jackie said sharply.
“He’s not worthy of you,” Hayden said flatly.
The words landed like a slap.
Shane stood so fast his chair scraped loudly across the floor.
“What did you just say?”
Jackie shot up. “Hayden—”
But Shane was already furious.
“You don’t get to say that about him.”
“I’m telling the truth.”
“You don’t know anything about him!”
“I know enough.”
“No, you don’t,” Shane snapped. “You won’t even acknowledge him.”
Ilya stood then.
Not aggressive. Not loud.
Just calm.
His hand slid to the back of Shane’s neck, fingers warm and steady.
“Ilya—” Shane started.
“It is okay,” Ilya said quietly.
He looked directly at Hayden for the first time.
“You do not have to like me,” he said. “But you will not speak about me like that in my home.”
The kitchen went silent.
Hayden shook his head. “This is exactly what I’m talking about!”
“What?” Shane snapped.
The room fell silent after that and Shane waited.
God, he waited.
Some desperate part of him still hoped Hayden would hear himself, would finally realize what he was doing and pull back before this became something permanent. Shane could practically feel the moment hanging there between them, fragile and shaking, like glass about to crack.
But Hayden said nothing.
No apology.
No realization.
Nothing.
Shane let out a slow breath through his nose, his fingers tightening around Ilya’s hand beneath the table.
Then he spoke again, calm enough that it hurt.
“If you hear nothing else I say tonight, hear this.”
His eyes never left Hayden’s.
“There is no world where I don’t choose him.”
The words settled heavily into the room.
“No version of my life. No circumstance.”
Beside him, Ilya had gone completely still. Shane could feel him breathing now, slow and shallow.
“I would choose Ilya every single time,” Shane continued softly. “In every life, in every reality, in every version of me that exists.”
A small pause.
“So if what you’re doing right now is trying to make me pick between him and everyone else…” Shane shook his head faintly. “You’ve already lost.”
“You’re throwing away ten years of friendship.”
Shane laughed bitterly. “If this is what friendship looks like, maybe it wasn’t real.”
“Stop,” Jackie said urgently.
But Hayden doubled down and said through gritted teeth, “He’s not worthy of you.”
That was it.
“Oh my god,” Shane snapped. “You’re being a shitty friend!”
Jackie closed her eyes.
“I invited you into our home,” Shane said, voice shaking. “You’re sitting here, eating food Ilya made for you.”
Hayden’s eyes flicked to the table.
“These are Russian dishes,” Shane continued. “He made them so you could learn something about him. About where he comes from!”
Ilya’s hand tightened slightly at Shane’s neck.
“He cooked for you. He invited you here. He tried,” Shane said. “And all you’ve done is ignore him and disrespect me.”
Shane inhaled slowly, and when he spoke again his voice had changed—quieter now, lowered to something just above a whisper, but steady enough that every word still landed with unmistakable weight.
“You know how hard it was to love him quietly?” he asked.
Hayden frowned.
“For ten years,” Shane said, “I loved him in silence. I pretended he was just my rival. I pretended it didn’t hurt every time I saw him. It was like looking at my heart existing outside of my body and we could do nothing about it, except in secret.”
The room was utterly still.
“And the whole time,” Shane continued, voice raw, “I thought at least one thing in my life was solid.”
He looked straight at Hayden.
“I thought you would always be there.”
Hayden’s confidence cracked.
“But this?” Shane said quietly gesturing his hands vaguely to the table. “This tells me everything.”
Hayden swallowed. “Shane—”
“No,” Shane cut in. “You never cared about me the way you said you did, that is abundantly clear to me now..”
“That’s not true.”
“It is,” Shane said. “Because not trusting Ilya matters more to you than loving me.”
The words hit Hayden hard.
“I love him,” Shane said out loud. “I love Ilya.”
He didn’t flinch.
“And you’re not my father,” he added coldly. “You don’t get to decide who’s worthy of me.”
Hayden looked shaken now. “You’re making a mistake.”
“No,” Shane said. “You are.”
He gestured to the door.
“If you can’t respect the person I love, you’re free to leave.”
The silence stretched.
“And if you walk out and never talk to me again,” Shane added, “that’s your choice.”
Jackie looked at Hayden. “You’re making a big mistake.”
Hayden’s eyes darted around the house..
The photos.
The food.
The life he’d refused to see.
“Shane… don’t do this,” he said, panic creeping in.
Shane’s expression didn’t change.
“You already did, Hayden.”
He pointed to the door.
“Leave.”
Hayden stared at him, disbelief written across his face.
“You’re serious?”
“Yes.”
Jackie touched Hayden’s arm. “Come on.”
He hesitated, then grabbed his jacket.
Jackie lingered, turning back to Shane.
“I’m sorry,” she said softly.
Shane exhaled, still feeling the heavy weight of Ilya’s palm on the back of his neck.
Then she turned, paused at the threshold and followed Hayden out.
The door shut and silence crept in. Shane stood there, breathing hard.
Ilya pulled him close, pressing his forehead to Shane’s.
“You are safe,” he murmured.
Shane closed his eyes.
“Yeah.”
Ilya kissed his temple.
“I am glad we do not have to be quiet anymore. We can just be, yes? Exist,” Ilya paused, running his thumb along Shane’s cheek, mapping his freckles under his touch. “together.”
Shane laughed weakly. “Me too.”
Ilya glanced at the table.
“…the pelmeni will get cold.”
Shane huffed a laugh through the ache.
“Guess we’ll have to eat them ourselves.”