that first year when ilya and shane get together, ilya makes sure to be there on shane’s birthday. they're in bed and ilya is already awake when shane blearily blinks his eyes open in the morning. he catches ilya gazing at him and he smiles, snuggling impossibly closer, and then ilya sings. he sings in russian and it sounds both wistful and happy, and he's stroking his fingers through shane’s hair the whole time. when he’s done, he softly kisses shane’s forehead and tells him happy birthday.
and when shane asks, ilya tells him that the song is called пусть бегут неуклюже and that it's a popular birthday song in russia, and that before his mother’s death, she would always sing it to him first thing when she saw him on his birthday. he doesn't say it but the way he speaks about it, shane knows he misses it.
shane googles it later, finds a translation and the video, apparently it's from a children's film, and it's sweet, though really, it does seem a little wistful.
and when ilya’s birthday rolls around, shane gives it his best shot to try and sing it for ilya. he stumbles through the first few lines and it comes out all jumbled and not at all right, and he hums the rest, peppering in the words he remembers. he’s flushed all the way because he feels so silly.
but ilya is looking at him with so much wonder in his eyes, which are shiny with tears, and there's a soft, happy smile on his face that makes shane’s stomach do somersaults.
“thank you,” ilya says, and he sounds choked up, but he pastes on a watery little grin. “are you sure you’re not having a stroke?”
shane snorts and shoves at him. “alright, asshole,” but it comes out all soft and fond.
it becomes their little tradition, too, and some years down the line, shane remembers all the words, and every year, ilya needs a few moments to compose himself.
