Work Text:
Shane was reasonably sure Ilya was in love with him.
Reasonable in the sense that everything Shane knows about love, Ilya embodies. The way he’ll look at him sometimes. His casual remembrance of random facts that Shane had only mentioned once. The way his touch will linger just a bit longer than necessary. Shane was taught by his parents and the scarce amount of romcoms he’s watched (with Ilya, by the way. Shane is not unconvinced that watching those movies were a weird mating ritual Ilya concocted) that these things meant someone was in love with you.
Shane should feel secure enough to say something about. He should be able to walk about to Ilya, ask, and then make out, in that order. But he can’t. Despite everything he’s been taught about love, everything that Ilya does, Shane still found a way to think that he’s misinterpreting.
His ability to understand advances like this has always been relatively dim. People were often too subtle and in return, Shane often thought of it as friendship. Ilya is not exactly subtle; there isn’t a subtle bone in his body. However, Shane can’t quell the looming anxiety in his chest whenever he thinks about doing anything about Ilya’s (supposed?) love.
What if Ilya is just a really good friend? What if Shane read the signals wrong and interpreted his actions as romantic because they were the only ever put in the category of romantic, not platonic? What if Shane just so desperately wants to be with Ilya he inadvertently ignored the cues that indicated the opposite of love? There were too many unknown variables. Too many questions that stop Shane from ever taking a step forward.
Because if Shane is wrong, then he’ll be heartbroken for the rest of his life. He truly cannot imagine anyone else by his side. Shane is so deeply in love with Ilya that he does all the things that Ilya does. He will look and touch too long. He’ll remember everything about Ilya. It was as easy as breathing.
He does it because he loves Ilya. He’ll do anything for Ilya. He does these actions because they’re natural but also, again, it’s what he’s learned you do when you love someone. Surely, if he does the same things Ilya does then that must mean Ilya loves him. But…what if the actions are platonic to Ilya? Then Shane is right at the same question he started at.
If Shane can’t make the first move, then Ilya’ll have to do something about it. And maybe if Shane plays his cards right, he will.
____________________
“I have a date tonight,” Shane said.
“With who?” Ilya asked, trying to calculate the bounty to give a hitman.
“Jordan, the guy that I spilled coffee on the other day?”
Ah, not quite enough of a bounty then. There is no way Shane would ever stay with the guy long term. Would a hitman do anything for five Canadian dollars? Probably not.
“Going to go on a coffee date then?” Ilya asked.
Shane scowled and Ilya had to fight the urge to smile. “No. We’re going bowling.”
Ilya side-eyed him. “You are going to, on the first date, do something competitive?”
“What could you possibly mean by that?” Ilya just stared at Shane in response. “Okay, I’m not that competitive.”
“No, no,” Ilya said, laying on his well-practiced sarcasm thick, “you will not go scary Hollander-mode at the first strike.”
“Of course, I’m going to strike but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go “scary Hollander-mode”, what does that even mean?” Shane said with his arms crossed.
“You know exactly what it means,” Ilya said. Then he tacked on because he likes fucking with Shane, “And you’ve been crazy about bowling since I scored a perfect game.”
Right on cue, Shane’s face got even more indignant and his face flushed. Predictable. Boring. Perfect. “That was a fucking fluke, and I will never believe you can do that again.”
“I am just that good and I have a big dick.”
Shane’s face scrunched. “The fuck does that have to do with anything?”
“Balance, like tail on a cat,” Ilya said.
Shane looked at the ceiling in the long-suffering way he did sometimes when Ilya said something he didn’t have an immediate retort for. “I refuse to respond to that. I have to go.”
“Try not to get too competitive and scare Jeremiah off!” Ilya called out.
“His name is Jordan!” Shane called back and shut the door.
Ilya smiled to himself. He has been Shane’s roommate for about four years. Four years since the day Ilya’s life has been taken over by freckles, schedules, and warmth. In those four years, Ilya learned that Shane and his mother, Yuna, had no ends to their competitiveness. They will argue the rules and moves like no one else. Ilya is similar in that sense, and he loves competing with them.
He’s also learned that he’s about the only person he can keep up with them.
David enjoys watching and will argue his fair share, but he has no inclination towards it. He’s amused by it and therefore he can deal with it. Ilya matches the fire, is not just warmed by it. Hayden has refused every game night he’s been invited to because of the Monopoly incident that he swears he still has nightmares from. He can’t handle it, not that he can handle much of anything really.
Svetlana, Cliff, J.J., Wyatt, Bood, Troy, Rose, and even sweet baby Luca have never been able to play another game with the Hollanders or even just Shane and Ilya. Which is fine, Shane and Ilya can bicker about board games in their own time. They can have an actual war over War on a random Wednesday evening. It’s one of the many reasons Ilya is deeply in love with Shane. His competitive nature, his fire, it’s something Ilya would gladly burn in if he wasn’t an inferno himself.
So, he knows, for a fact, that this date will end in disaster.
____________________
The date was a disaster.
Shane knew this would be the outcome. Had intended for it. He didn’t need any of the dates to go well. He just needed Ilya to be annoyed enough to spout out a love confession (and then, like, maybe fuck Shane on the counter. Or couch. Or wall. Or any surface in their apartment. Lord knows he’s fantasized about it all).
So, when planning the date, he intentionally chose something he knew would weird the other person out. Jordan seemed like a nice guy who didn’t have a competitive bone in his body. Meanwhile Shane’s skeleton is exclusively competitive. He couldn’t keep it cool even if he tried. And ever since Ilya’s perfect game (which was singlehandedly the hottest and most frustrating thing Shane had ever witnessed), Shane has been particularly invested in doing his best at bowling.
He chose this date specifically to scare off Jordan. Maybe he also chose it to practice so he could also get a perfect game next time he played Ilya. More perfect even, somehow. If there’s a will there’s a way after all.
Shane barely remembered the date to be frank. He knew that somewhere between his third and fifth chirp of the evening, Jordan had been successfully put off but was too nice to end it early. Shane was only thankful for that because then who would he play against? Himself? Should he try that?
Jordan did end the date saying they’d be better friends and Shane tried to act like he had any interest in having another conversation with him. Perhaps that made him kind of a dick. He didn’t care though. It was unlikely they’d ever have a conversation that wasn’t stilted. Peace and love Jordan but you are not what Shane is looking for.
Who he was looking for was sitting on the couch watching House Hunters despite a supposed dislike of home renovation shows. Shane may be the real estate expert of the two, but Ilya was a judgy bitch at heart and he loved to criticize people’s choices. Shane secretly loved hearing his increasingly indignant commentary.
“They’re going to go into debt for the ugliest house in existence,” Ilya muttered to himself barely even registering Shane was there. Shane found this comment funny because Ilya deemed a different house the “ugliest house in existence” last week.
“You need to come up with better insults for houses,” Shane said. Ilya startled and looked over at Shane.
“What are you? Vampire now? Sneaking around?” Ilya asked.
Shane settled onto the couch next to Ilya, who immediately put his feet on Shane’s lap. “Are vampires known for being quiet?” Shane asked, genuinely curious. He rested his arms on Ilya’s legs.
“They sneak Hollander you know…” Ilya raised his arm to his face bending it like he was hiding behind a cape. He shifted his eyes side to side.
Shane laughed. “Right, right. No I am not a vampire, you just love this show too much.”
Ilya put his arm down and rolled his eyes. “I do not love this show, Shane. I hate it.”
“Then why watch it by yourself?”
“Sometimes you have to torture yourself to be a better human.”
“I don’t think that’s true.”
“You torture yourself with bird food diet.”
Shane glared. “That’s different.”
“Whatever,” Ilya said, “how was your date with Jehovah?”
“Jordan.”
Ilya rolled his eyes. “Whatever. How was the date?”
Shane shrugged. “Fine.”
“Fine, he says,” Ilya commented. “Such riveting storytelling, no wonder you got a C- in English class?”
“Fuck off,” Shane said with a laugh. “It was fine, probably won’t go anywhere though.”
Ilya’s shoulders seemed to sag with relief. Shane bit a smile back. “Ah,” Ilya said, “could not handle your competitive spirit?”
“Something like that,” Shane said. He played with a fraying edge of Ilya’s sock.
“Is okay, you will meet someone who will be able to handle it,” Ilya said, misidentifying Shane’s silence.
Yeah, you, Shane thought. He looked up from the sock to Ilya’s eyes. “Yeah. I will.”
They sat silently, staring at each other. Something heavy was sitting between them. Shane silently pleading for Ilya to do it. Say it. Anything.
What Ilya says instead, “New episode of Farmhouse Fixer. Do you want to watch?”
Shane suppressed a sigh. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”
____________________
Ilya stared at the string cosplaying as a man standing at their door. “Who are you?”
The string stared back in shock. An appropriate reaction Ilya thought, he too would be speechless in the face of his…face. Whatever. The string wore a flannel buttoned to the very top. Who even wears such a thing? Everyone knows the hot style is leaving them open.
“Uh, Adam,” the string said.
“And what craft store did you escape from?”
“What?”
“Oh, hey Adam.” Shane said. Ilya felt something heavy sit in his chest. “Ilya this is Adam, we’re going out. And Adam this is Ilya, my roommate.”
Ilya felt a smug sense of satisfaction that Shane introduced Ilya to Adam first. Christ, he’s a little pathetic. Svetlana would have a field day with this.
“You did not tell me you were going out tonight,” Ilya said instead of exchanging pleasantries. He would not shake hands with a string. He refused to entertain Shane’s clearly delusional state. Why would he buy into the strings awful disguise.
“Does he have to?” The string asked.
Ilya didn’t look over but he made a face of annoyance. One that matched Shane’s which appeared briefly but Ilya caught it all the same.
“No, but it’s better when you know where each other are,” Shane explained. Ilya nods. He remembered Shane’s extensive PowerPoint about sharing locations with each other and having someone know where you are in case anything happens. He ended it with a lecture about stranger danger with a pointed look that Ilya did not appreciate. So, he got into the car of a random guy he met in an alley at night one time. He’s fine. Ashton was a lovely guy that had a smelly car.
Ilya listened anyway. He loved Shane’s lectures and the bossy tone he took on. He loved when Shane got annoyed by Ilya’s questions. He loved the effort Shane made into single-use presentations. So, Ilya listened and despite what people like Hayden Pike might say, he’s not an idiot and remembered all the information Shane ever threw at him.
Ilya will admit, however, that Shane’s presentation on the necessity of them needing to share their locations was not needed. Ilya would’ve shared his location with Shane from the first day they met. Which. Okay. Maybe that is why the presentation was needed. Point Shane.
“I’ll let you know when I’m heading back,” Shane said. Ilya nodded as he tried to hide his smirk. Shane had no plans to stay the night with the string if he was telling Ilya such a thing. Good, sex with a string is dangerous. It could cut off circulation to Shane’s dick. His poor, poor dick that Ilya hasn’t had a chance to suck yet.
“Okay,” Ilya said. He watched as the string and Shane left.
And even though he knew it probably wouldn’t go anywhere, he felt his chest constrict. Shane has never had two dates so close together. Sure, the string was destined to fail tonight but if the pattern continues, it’s only a matter of time before Shane finds his person,
When that time comes, Ilya won’t even have the dignity to get out of Shane’s life. No, he’ll stay by his side and suffer for eternity watching someone more deserving have the life he wanted.
The thought sent Ilya to bed at 7:30 pm with no dinner. He didn’t respond to Shane’s text about him heading back. Not that it stopped Shane from walking into Ilya’s room, setting a meal he definitely got for Ilya (no way was Shane ordering a burger and fries) in front of him. When Ilya finally sat up and took his first bite, Shane complained about the date. It made Ilya feel marginally better.
But not by much.
____________________
Shane’s next date was with Mitchell who looked like he popped out of a movie that was parodying the 70s. Shane knew he was a bad person because he wasn’t really that attracted to the man and couldn’t stand the weed smell that clung to his clothes. However, Mitchell did ask him out when Ilya was right next to him and Shane couldn’t pass it up.
Ilya looked confused, like he couldn’t quite believe Shane would even agree to it. The correct interpretation but Shane had a plan and if it meant hanging out with a guy he was planning on deleting from his phone the second he got home, then so be it. If he thought about it, Ilya could easily end the date before it started. All he’d have to do is…well, anything. One act to confirm Shane’s thoughts and they could cuddle and Shane wouldn’t have to spend an hour in the shower trying to scrub himself off.
He doesn’t even have a problem with weed. But for whatever reason, the way it wafts off Mitchell makes Shane want to vomit. Ilya should do the heroic thing and stop Shane from dealing with this.
He didn’t. He wished Shane good luck instead. So, Shane must go on a date he didn’t want to go on (free will only exists in the minds of those not trying to get dicked down by their neighbors. If he wasn’t interested in Ilya or trying to prove something, he wouldn’t have even agreed to it obviously. Clearly, this is all Ilya’s fault).
Shane spent the entire date being called ‘dude’ or ‘man’. He avoided the very tempting option of shoving a fork into his vocal cords, so he had an excuse not to talk. He silently stewed in annoyance over the fact that he was even on a date in the first place.
When he got home, he was so irrationally annoyed with Ilya that he immediately showered and went to bed without a single word spoken. Ilya, who was unfortunately very good at reading Shane’s moods, did not attempt to talk to him. His only attempt was in the morning when Shane opened the fridge to see a protein smoothie already made with a sticky note. The sticky note had a small smiley face with a question mark next to it.
Shane turned to Ilya who was sitting at the table and smiled.
Ilya’s face lit up in that gorgeous smile of his. The one that made Shane feel at ease and like a million butterflies were sent loose in his nervous system.
Ilya pulled out the chair next to him. “Tell me all about your terrible date with Mitochondria,” he said with a pat to the seat.
“Mitchell.”
And since Shane can never stay mad at him, he sat next to Ilya and told him all about it.
____________________
Ilya was having a great day. He woke up without feeling like a stone was on his chest. Shane made them breakfast that wasn’t just bird food dressed pretty. They even went to the gym together where Ilya had the pleasure of looking at Shane while he worked out.
There was no better sight in Ilya’s mind. In fact, if they were just the tiniest bit richer, Ilya would have a home gym built so only he could see Shane like this. Out of breath, grunting, and sweaty as his arms and legs flexed. Ilya would happily just stare at Shane doing reps or yoga until he died from dehydration. Or not, part of him thinks that he could be sufficiently cared for if he was just watching Shane.
So, yeah. One could say he was having a great day. The problem with going to the gym with Shane though, is that other people see it too. They see Shane working out and think they have a right to him. They don’t. Not that Ilya does either, but he has more of one, surely.
The problem, otherwise named George (?), came up to them after Shane finished his session. Ilya was being a kind, generous man, and spotting Shane. He loved helping Shane and the view he got wasn’t too bad either. Really, it was very rude of George (?) to intervene the way he was.
It wasn’t the first time this had happened and as long as people still had functioning eyes, it wouldn’t be the last. Ilya was unwillingly used to the routine. He’s learned to block it out for his own sanity. He glared daggers at the offending guy but would otherwise tune him out. As George (?) kept talking, Ilya wondered if he could throw one of the weight plates at his head.
Ilya waited for the inevitable end where Shane would let the guy down. Except it never came.
No, Shane had taken to torturing Ilya recently so of course, he entertained George (?).
Ilya watched in horror as they exchanged numbers. He felt his heart freeze and part of him die just a little. Ilya knew that he did not have the right to wish Shane would never date someone. If he wanted Shane to date him, as was his desire since the moment he laid eyes on him, he’d have to say something.
But he can’t. He wants to. He wants Shane to be his in a way that is probably unhealthy. However, he can’t let himself believe he’s even worthy of Shane in the first place. Ilya doesn’t know the first thing about relationships. Ilya knew sex, he knew they could have good nights together. He doesn’t know if he would be a worthy romantic partner. He barely felt worthy of Shane’s friendship. Shane doesn’t know that every time he looks at Ilya, it feels like a miracle. A blessing.
George (?) may be better for Shane in the long run. Clearly, he saw something in the muscled freak. Every part of Ilya wants to put a protective arm around Shane and deem him his. He wants to tell George (?) to fuck off. He doesn’t.
He instead watches Shane stretch his arms out, wondering if he should’ve gotten out of bed at all.
____________________
Shane’s will, normally strong, is dwindling by the second. He does not want to go on this fucking date. He doesn’t want to endure another dinner with a guy he doesn’t care to know. He wanted Ilya and his bad eating habits talking his ear off about one thing or another. It is something of a miracle that he even managed to get his body to respond to Mark in the first place.
Mark (Gym): How about tonight at 7? I know a good salad bar near me.
Shane: Sure.
Shane: Sounds good. I like salad.
Mark (Gym): Me too. I like how it feels when I eat a good salad you know?
Mark (Gym): How it processes inside me.
Shane has no clue what the fuck that means. Who says that? Never, in all his years of living, has he eaten food and thought “wow, this sure is processing well”.
Mark (Gym): It’s not the only thing I like inside me ;)
Oh. Was that just a terrible way to flirt? Jesus, Shane isn’t even the best flirt out there and he knows he’d be better than that.
Wait. Inside…?
Oh God.
____________________
“I have another date tonight,” Shane called out from somewhere in the apartment.
Ilya, who was being very generous and cleaning the kitchen, stopped what he was doing. He thunked his head on the counter and silently screamed. He kept his head down as he asked, “Oh yeah? Sounds fun.”
“Yeah,” Shane said and Ilya knocked his head again. “He’s taking me to a salad bar.”
“Oh, so you both enjoy bird food,” Ilya said bitterly and lifted his head. They sound like a match made in fucking heaven.
“Salad is not bird food, asshole. It’s healthy and you could stand to eat more of it,” Shane said with his lecturing tone. Ilya was too distraught to even get half hard.
“Why? I’m hot and have a million abs and I eat food from anywhere.”
“Yeah, and it’ll send you to an early grave.”
Ilya wished. “Is this date with George?”
Shane walked into the kitchen, looking delectable. As always. What an asshole. “George?”
“Guy from the gym.”
Shane tilted his head, confused. Then, “Oh my God, do you mean Mark?”
“Sure.”
“George isn’t even close!”
Ilya shrugged. “They both have an r.”
Shane’s lips twitched in the way they do when he’s trying not to laugh. It’s funny, he looked like a rabbit. “Yes, it’s with him. He was very…forward.”
“Ah, so good for you. You know what he wants instead of guessing,” Ilya said.
Shane shrugged. “I guess. He also wants to compare workout routines.”
“Sure, you’re very fit he must want notes.”
Shane took a steady breath. “Yeah, I guess. He really likes himself.”
“Confidence is good.”
Shane looked increasingly annoyed. “Maybe. He. Whatever, I think I should go huh?”
“Yes, he sounds like a good time.”
“Okay. Well. Bye.”
No see you later, fucking fantastic. “Goodbye Hollander. Have fun.”
Shane nodded then walked out the door. Ilya stood still for a second before tossing his rag onto the counter with far more force than necessary. He leaned against the counter as he tried to get his emotions under control. What the hell is he supposed to do? George (?) sounded like someone Shane could genuinely get along with. Or at the very least tolerate.
Just as Ilya was prepared to grab a bottle of vodka and drown himself in it. The door banged open and scared Ilya’s soul straight out of him.
“You were just going to let me go out with him?” Shane said looking incredibly angry and Ilya had the very confusing feeling of being aroused and terrified.
“What the fuck Hollander, you scared the shit out of me,” was all Ilya could say in response.
“Good! You just let me go? What the fuck Ilya.” Shane said with his arms crossed. Arms that could choke Ilya out.
Not the fucking time you useless horny asshole.
“Shane, what are you talking about?”
“He was going to make me top!” Shane said with a level of indignance that Ilya didn’t think was possible.
“Not very observant, is he?” Ilya said truthfully because…well, come on.
“Observant,” Shane parroted. “Not the point.”
“You made it a point.”
“But it’s not the point,” Shane said. “Seriously Ilya, what do I have to do? Write “date me” on my forehead? I’ll do it at this point. Where’s the Sharpie?”
“Did you hit your head? Is that why you’re acting like this?” Ilya asked barely registering Shane’s words. Shane was slamming drawers open and close. “Stop looking for the fucking Sharpie Hollander.”
Shane immediately stopped…that’s dangerous.
“Ilya, why…do you love me?” Shane asked. His anger leaving his body like a deflated balloon. Ilya stared in disbelief.
“What?”
“You just…you do all these things. Like remember my favorite shampoo or exactly how I like my laundry done even though I know it’s a complicated process. You know how to make me smile. I don’t fucking know, but you do. You know everything and you do everything for me and it makes me feel like you love me and yet you still let me go on these useless dates. Am I misreading things?”
Ilya stayed silent for a moment. He tried not to freak out too much when he said, “No. You are not misreading things.”
Shane’s body practically sagged in relief. “Then why aren’t you stopping me?”
“I did not think you would want me to.”
“Of course I wanted you to.”
“Shane, I did not think. I don’t think I deserve you.”
“What the actual fuck are you talking about?” Shane asked with a frown.
“You are the best person ever Shane. It is easy to do everything I do for you. I think I could spend the rest of my life just serving you without getting anything in return. You are strong and incredible and I don’t know. Perfect? Yes, perfect to me.”
“Sorry, do you seriously think you don’t deserve my love?”
“Yes, you are perfect. I am not. Very simple stuff, Shane.”
“Stop fucking talking like that,” Shane said. “First of all, you deserve everything. Secondly, you think any of the guys I went on dates with are even fucking worthy of my love? They aren’t. You are. And the only reason for that is because you are you. Nothing more, nothing less. I will also happily do everything for you.”
“What are you saying?”
“That I love you too.”
Ilya felt tears well up against his will. “Fuck Shane.”
“I love you so much,” Shane said and stepped up to take Ilya’s face in his hands.
“Я тебя люблю,” Ilya said in return. He didn’t have to translate. Shane smiled like he understood. He probably did, smart bastard.
When they kissed, it was exactly how Ilya imagined it would be. A revelation. A gift he didn’t feel worthy enough to receive but Shane decided he was anyway. His hands tangled into Ilya’s hair and held on for dear life. It took very little time on both of their parts to add tongue. And maybe Ilya grabbed Shane’s ass. Not exactly a romantic first kiss probably, but Ilya didn’t care. He was right where he wanted to be.
“I should,” Shane breathed as Ilya moved his lips down Shane’s neck. “I should cancel my date.”
“No,” Ilya muttered. “He was going to make you top. Bad man.”
“Ilya I’m not going to stand him up with no warning,” Shane said. His authoritative tone was severely undercut by his hands directing Ilya to his sweet spot.
“Mmm. Send a video of me fucking you to him, that should send the message no?” Ilya said as he lifted his head from Shane’s neck (very difficult to do, very impressive of him).
Shane’s face blushed and he tried to look upset about it. The jerk of his hips at the statement though and the small nearly imperceptible whine gave him away though. “Absolutely fucking not, are you insane?”
“Mayyyybeee,” Ilya said as he returned to Shane’s neck. Instead of a kiss he blew a raspberry there.
Shane practically cackled. “You are so annoying.”
“But you loooooveee me,” Ilya said, still not entirely sure this whole thing was real.
“So much,” Shane said, Ilya tried not to cry again. He was barely successful.
“Alright,” Ilya said as lifted Shane up. Shane’s legs wrapped around Ilya’s waist instinctively. Shane stared between them like he couldn’t quite believe that Ilya just did that. “Let’s go make a sex tape for George.”
“That is not his name,” Shane said. “And we’re not making a sex tape!”
“Not with that attitude.”