The way I've been spinning around Cliff trying to support Ilya through the tunameltdown in my head. My stomach hurts about them.
All of the tricks Cliff has cobbled together over the last seven years of weathering Ilya's lows. He's never been able to fix it. He knows he isn't fixing it when he stands between the captain and their overeager teammates after practices so Ilya doesn't have to feel bad later about snapping the rookie's head off.
He isn't fixing it when he barges into Ilya's home, key on his keyring for three years now, only for emergencies and it always is one, and throws some vintage silk at his head and tells him Cliff needs his help to get laid tonight because if anything can get Ilya to leave his house it's the idea that Cliff, anyone, needs him in a way he can tease them for later.
He isn't fixing it when he joins Ilya in his dark living room and lets a movie play until Ilya is slumped against the solid side of Cliff, his good buddy Cliff, who doesn't mind, loves more than almost anything in the world actually, getting a hand on Ilya's thigh to pull his big body against Cliff's bigger one, with an offhand, "Been a fucking minute for you, yeah, Roz? Blue balls over here, come on. Work it out." While Ilya grinds his dick against the crease of Cliffs thigh until he comes and slides down to his knees and winks like he's back in his body for the first time in a week before pulling Cliff's sweatpants down and spitting.
He doesn't fix it. But usually, he feels like he's helping Ilya ride out the wave. Usually it's a couple days, a week, a few weeks at most, even the post-Moscow low that Ilya has to ride out for a few weeks at the beginning of pre-season training. It's been months.
Cliff knows what it looks like when a man feels like something dark is closing in on him. He's seen it happen at the fringes of the Family, seen the way good people try to fix it, and can't, and how sometimes the only thing to do is step back and let the guy take the fall. He doesn't want to know what it would look like to let Ilya fall. He's never going to step back and find out.
He walks into Ilya's Tampa hotel room. Key pressed into his hand as soon as they'd checked in, just for emergencies. And he hears Ilya laugh and shout at him, and maybe Cliff hadn't realized until the moment the wave breaks over both of them that he'd been drowning too.
OHHHHHHHH HEY. HEY. YOU GET A GOOD GRADE IN FANDOM. YOUVE BEEN PAYING ATTENTION AND TAKING NOTES. OHHHHHHHH MY GOD. YEAH. YEAH.
here’s the thing about when they’re hooking up post tunameltdown. cliff is moaning into ilyas neck and panting and calls him “roz” and ilya yanks his head back, tears in his eyes, and says “ilya. call me ilya. please.” and that’s the most crucial thing bc THATS THE THING HES SENSITIVE ABOUT.
and cliff does. over and over and over. bc that’s his boy. and he will do anything ilya asks.
germansingergirl
turnnoffyourmind
yousharknotpass
dededos
jacobvanloon
baratheonpilled
areudirty
