awkward - hollanov - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 406 - click here for my hollanov microfic archive on ao3
"I have something for you both. Just something little," Yuna said as she followed Shane, Ilya, and David to the living room, having just finished dinner together.
It was the night before Ilya's last day at the cottage, and the air had shifted. Anxiety, sadness, and anticipation clouded Shane's thoughts. "You didn't have to get us anything, Mom," he murmured, hardly focusing on the conversation.
But Yuna just shushed him, already moving to her bag to pull out two small, wrapped, flat rectangles, which she handed to them both.
They exchanged a glance, then opened them, not sure what to say.
Shane's heart lurched in his chest.
"It is...oh my god," Ilya mumbled with a small smile, eyes on his own gift.
It was a small, framed copy of the day they'd been drafted, the two of them standing next to each other as awkward teenagers, smiling at the camera. Yuna had cropped out the player who'd been third, leaving just Shane and Ilya in the frame.
"I figured...well, players take pictures of their partners on the road, right? But...that wouldn't be...so this isn't terribly suspicious, I think? If you keep it in your bag or something? I mean, it makes sense, to want to remember draft day. Nobody would suspect..."
Shane swallowed the lump in his throat, smiling. "That was a good day," he said, looking over to his boyfriend, who seemed just as teary-eyed.
Ilya nodded, obviously overcome with emotion, but then eyed Shane and shrugged playfully. "Eh. Was okay."
"Okay? Fuck you, Rozanov, you beat me!" Shane protested, smiling at the jab.
"Top five, maybe," he replied, smirking.
"Let me guess," Shane rolled his eyes," winning the cup was the first? And, what? That was the second?"
"Eh, no. Cup was second. This was third. First was...few days ago. When you said you loved me." It was a fact dropped so casually that it took a few moments to land. But, oh, when it did…
The living room was silent for a moment as Shane took that in, his whole body filling with joy.
"Oh," Yuna murmured from her seat, hand on her chest, beaming. "Oh, that's so sw–"
But Ilya was looking at Shane, who was still processing, grinning, melting in the man's gaze.
"Eh. Actually...no," Ilya corrected himself, smirking. "I change my mind. Was winning the cup, I think. Much more exciting."