I don't upload my fics here but ao3 is down and I found a copy of this old work, it's not the best but hope you have fun!
Shane was the most boring person on earth, Ilya decided.
They had a free evening in New York after beating the Admirals (3-1, thank you very much), and his husband wanted to go watch a musical.
They had the entirety of New York, and this fucker wanted to watch a musical.
Jesus fucking christ, Ilya was so in love with him.
So this is how Ilya found himself in Broadway next to his giddy husband on a Saturday night while their teammates hit club after club.
Looking at his husband’s excited face, Ilya couldn’t bring himself to regret it.
Ilya paid 0 attention to their surroundings, instead choosing to focus on the way Shane’s dress pants hugged his ass. He wasn’t a religious man, but by God, his husband's ass had to be an act of divine creation.
He let himself be pulled up the stairs to a balcony with a small sofa. Shane pulled him down and leaned on him, looking down at the stage with shining eyes and a frivolous smile.
Ilya had to admit those seats were really good. You could see every small detail on stage, but they themselves were out of plain sight, free to do whatever they wanted.
“So, what’s this ‘musical’ about?” Ilya asked as he wrapped an arm around his husband.
Shane facepalmed at him. “You did not listen to me when I told you where we are going.”
“No, I heard musical, then I saw your ass and the rest went ‘poof’,” Ilya grinned.
Shane shook his head, failing to hide an affectionate grin. “It’s about the princess Anastasia. I remember you telling me about her a while ago, so I thought you’d enjoy this.”
Ilya had told Shane the legend of Princess Anastasia about a year ago when Shane had a high fever and couldn’t get out of bed. Ilya’s mom used to tell him stories when he was sick as a kid, and he did the same thing from habit when his husband was sick.
He had no idea Shane remembered that.
God, he fucking loves that man.
Ilya had to restrain himself from grabbing the man sitting next to him and dragging him to bed, and instead pulled him in for a deep kiss.
Not long after, the lights in the theater began to dim, and the curtain was lifted. Shane settled comfortably against him, wrapping Ilya’s arms around himself, letting the Russian bask in the beauty of the fact that they can do that now.
It had been almost 20 years since the last time Ilya heard the legend of Princess Anastasia, but he was pretty sure that it did not include that much singing. Nevertheless, he found himself enjoying the show, relishing in the familiarity of the music and the names.
It was nice, watching something about a place he knew so well. Hearing names that were not foreign to him, watching people sing about his mother’s St. Petersburg, the city he heard so much about, and talking in an accent similar to his.
The songs were also pretty damm good, not that he’ll ever tell Shane that.
Ilya found himself being swept into the story, rooting for Denitri to kiss the girl and crossing his fingers that the gang would be able to make it to Paris, and hoping this glab guy won’t kill them in the process.
Glab was actually pretty similar to Alexi, now that Ilya thought about it, but he will dwell on that later.
As Vlad, Anya, and Demitri entered the train station, Ilya was attacked by a wave of longing, his own goodbye to his homeland burning bright in his chest, trying to escape the cage he stuffed it into all those years ago.
And then that fucker ‘Count Ipolitov’ started singing.
Coachman, hold the horses
Ilya felt his throat close up.
He never said goodbye. Even tho he told Shane on the phone that he is never coming back, Ilya didn’t actually believe that he’d never go home again. He left without saying goodbye, without knowing that this was the last time he’d see his homeland.
To bridge and river, forest and waterfall
The lake where his mom taught him how to skate.
The park where He and Alexi used to have tea parties when he was little.
Harsh and sweet, and bitter to leave it all
The cafe near Gorky Park where he used to meet his friends
I'll bless my homeland 'til I die
To Ilya’s horror, he felt his eye welling up with tears.
We have shed our tears and shared our sorrows
He will never visit his mother again. She must wonder why he stopped coming to see her. Ilya absently wondered if Alexi was taking care of her grave. He hoped he did. Irania Rozanov deserved to rest in clean surroundings.
Though the scars remain and tears will never dry
I'll bless my homeland 'til I die
It was stupid. It was just land. But Ilya will bless his homeland until he dies; he knew that without a doubt.
He did, didn’t he? Then why did it feel so wrong to be happy about it?
She did. Ilya would not be who he is today if it weren’t for his homeland. He would forever be in debt to her.
And how did he repay his debt?
He left without saying goodbye to the ground on which he took his first steps. Without kissing the Ice that taught him everything he knows and shaped who he is today. He left, deserting the soil in which his mother was buried, turning his back on his homeland.
How to go where I have never gone before?
Ilya was sobbing uncontrollably.
He could feel Shane’s arms around him, holding him tightly.
His husband was talking to him in a hushed tone, but he couldn’t hear a word he said.
Coachman, hold the horses
‘Please do,’ Ilya wanted shout. ‘Please stop and let me say goodbye’.
His shoulders were shaking with sobs now.
Shane stood and tried to take Ilya outside to the hall.
Harsh and sweet, and bitter to leave it all
It WAS harsh. It was sweet. It was bitter. It was all the emotions humans were capable of expirencing all mixed together to create the lump in Ilya’s throat.
I'll bless my homeland 'til I die
‘I did not forget you’, He closed his eyes.
I'll bless my homeland 'til I die
Ilya barely noticed as the crowd rose to their feet and applauded. He registered Shane’s arm covering his own, the other cradling his cheek and wiping away tears with his thumb, but everything sounded like he was underwater. He pulled away from Shane and aggressively wiped away his tears with his palm, thanking his lucky stars that the theater was dark and no one could see them.
“Ilya, dorogaya, ty menya pugayesh,” Shane whispered. “Pogovori so mnoy.”
His Russian had gotten really good. He still had a strong accent, but the words rolled off his tongue a lot easier than they did a year ago.
Ilya wanted to roll into a ball and cry for the rest of the show, but knowing he was scaring his husband shook him out of his pity party. He managed a smile, pulling Shane close to him.
“I’m ok,” He said, clearing his throat. “I’m ok.”
“Do you want us to leave? We can-”
“No,” Ilya gave him a little smile. “No, I want to watch this.”
Shane looked at him with concern, but relaxed as Ilya pulled him close, leaning his chin on his shoulder.
“You can talk to me if you want. You know that, right?”
“Shhh,” Ilya shooshed the Canadian. “There is show going on. Have respect, Shane.”
He didn’t need to see Shane’s face to know the other man was rolling his eyes.
And as he sank again into the story, watching Anya and Dimitri bickering on stage, he knew that this, what he had right here, was worth every pain and longing he had. He would leave Russia a thousand times more if it meant he could be here, with Shane. Not because he did not love his homeland, but because this? This was worth everything.
His mother would want him to be happy. She was not bound to one spot, she couldn’t stay put while she was alive, and she surely wouldn’t now that she was with god.
The trees, the ice, and the sky would be in his heart forever. He was shaped by them, molded into the man he was today, and nothing, no distance or time, would ever take that away from them.
And Russia? Russia will wait for him. This was not the end; things won’t be the same way forever. One day, he is going to bring Shane home with him, walk the grounds of his homeland, and be free. Because Russia will wait for him, and he will wait for her, for as long as it takes.
‘It’s not goodbye,’ Ilya thought to himself. ‘One day, you’ll be free.’
