drawer - hollanov - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 545 - click here for my hollanov microfic archive on ao3
Ilya awoke in the middle of the night, the strange sounds of a foreign place enough to make him restless.
He was still nervous. The jitters of finally being here, of what he might slip up and reveal of his feelings, weighed heavily. What might happen from here?
Doing everything he could to not wake Shane, he slipped from the bed they were sharing and padded into the pristine kitchen of Shane's cottage (a word that he decided Shane needed to relearn the meaning of) and looked around for something soothing to eat.
Honestly, his hopes were not high. As ridiculously thrilled as he was to be here, in this place, with Shane, for a whole two weeks, he had not travelled here for the food. He knew that he would likely be subjected to horrors like zucchini pasta and breakfast smoothies and spinach hidden in ungodly places.
But fuck, it was worth it to be here with Shane.
So he started quietly opening cabinets and drawers, hoping maybe he would find a protein bar with a drizzle of dark chocolate or something.
He was shocked to find so much more.
Bags and bags of chips and snacks and other junkfood, all of the things he loved. Reusable grocery totes stuffed with all of his favorites. Beaming, he pulled one out from a shelf and reached for a party-sized bag of Doritos, only to see a slip of paper fall.
Absent-mindedly, he picked it up.
Things to buy for Ilya, it read at the top.
It was a list. A long list, written in Shane's cramped, slightly-messy handwriting, not only detailing Ilya's favorite things but annotated with Shane's thoughts about them.
He couldn't help but break into a smile. Of course Shane Hollander didn't use something as simple as his phone's notes app. No, he was a pen-and-paper guy, walking around the grocery store like an old man with his list in his hand and his stupidly attractive glasses perched on his nose.
Ilya knew he was smiling like an idiot at the thought.
Cokes, one line read, Cans, not the bottles, enough for two a day.
Swallowing, Ilya bit his lip. Yes, he did prefer the cans. But he'd never said anything. Had he told Hollander this?
Doritos, another entry detailed. I think red? They were in his cabinet. Get both to be sure.
He snorted lightly. Of course, Shane would cover all of his bases. But he remembered what Ilya'd had in his cabinet from that night so long ago?
Guesses at Ilya's preferences in coffee, cereal, cookies, and meals. Ingredients for traditional Russian dishes. Memories of things Shane had seen Ilya consuming in photos.
It was a wonder the cabinets weren't bursting with food.
And Ilya stood there, in the early hours of the morning, staring at the undeniable evidence that this man knew him. Or, at least, was making a very good effort to try to do so.
Suddenly, he did not want to eat Doritos anymore. All he wanted was to go back to bed and hold Shane in his arms.
But as he placed the unopened bag back in the cabinet, he slipped the list into his pocket.
That, he was keeping forever.
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