Asexual Biromantic She/They. Born in 1990 and occasionally NSFW so minors beware. I’m trying to get better at tagging but I make no promises. Apparently I write fic now, so find me on AO3 https://archiveofourown.org/users/SteddieAsSheGoes/pseuds/SteddieAsSheGoes
It’s stupid. He knows he’s being ridiculous, which honestly only makes it worse.
Shane watches Ilya laugh with his dearest friend, happy and beautiful under the pulsing lights, and hates the jealousy curling around his heart like a hissing cat. Why can’t he be normal about this?
Svetlana has been nothing but nice to him, he likes her, which is really just another thing that sharpens the sting of shame. But this thing has been pumping through his bloodstream, poisoning him from the moment they got here.
–
They’d managed to sweet talk his mom into holding off on any media appearances or brand deals for the first part of the summer once they’re both knocked out of the playoffs (Ilya says it’s because “No one can say no to your pretty pout, zaychik, is not just me” but Shane secretly believes it has far more to do with the giant soft spot both of his parents have for Ilya) so they can have a solid two weeks to themselves before they have to lock in to preparing for Game Changers. They kick it off with a visit to Boston.
The trip to Ilya’s sort-of home town is only a few days including travel, so Shane convinces him to sacrifice his usual off season sleep in for one day to catch the earliest flight. At least since their announcement on The Irina Foundation, they have a reasonable excuse to be seen traveling together. As much as he’d love a road trip with Ilya, he’d hate to waste even more of the limited time they set aside for this on the long drive there and back.
They land at Logan just after 10am.
Unsurprisingly, they’re spotted by fans at baggage claim. Even less surprising considering where they are, they’re far more interested in Ilya. Shane stands off to the side, watching as Ilya is charming as always. He’s smiling fondly at a trio of young boys who crowd around him asking for his autograph and telling him all about how they can’t wait to play hockey like him some day. Shane thinks of the upcoming camp, wonders if he’ll see these boys there someday.
He’s so good with kids. It makes something in Shane ache, knowing he can never give that to Ilya. A future with Shane probably means a future without children. Biologically, for sure, but also Shane’s just not sure if it’s something he wants. He loves playing uncle to the Pike children, but he knows that parenthood is an entirely different beast. Is it something Ilya wants? It doesn’t seem like something that has a middle ground. If they’re on opposite sides…
Shane’s pretty sure Ilya would have stayed there all day, happily soaking in the joy of these kids, if it weren’t for a delicate cough interrupting their chatter.
“Sorry to interrupt, boys, but I am here to collect Mr. Rozanov and Mr. Hollander.”
As Ilya says his goodbyes to the kids, Shane turns to greet Ilya’s oldest friend. The smile forming on his face freezes in place a little when he finally sees her, an unexpected tightness in his chest.
He’s seen pictures, of course, he knew she was beautiful. But the woman standing in front of him is stunning. Her wild curls are gathered in a messy pile at the top of her head, a few perfect ringlets escaping to frame her face. She’s dressed casually, he supposes, but he can’t help but think she looks like a model in her jean shorts and halter top. Her makeup is light, natural, just enough to accentuate her piercing eyes.
Eyes that are staring right back at him, shit. At least she looks amused rather than put off by his awkwardness. He brushes off the tension and extends his hand between them.
“Hi, it’s uh, it’s nice to meet you, Svetlana?” Why does he say her name like a question? “I’m Shane. Hollander.”
She smirks at him, but not unkindly. “Yes, Shane Hollander, I know who you are.” She bypasses his stilted attempt at a handshake and pulls him in for a hug instead. “Is nice to finally meet you, Jane.” she whispers in his ear.
Ilya, finally done with his little fans, wraps them both in his arms. “Ah, my two favorite people together at last!”
Svetlana laughs, rolling her eyes at his antics and shoving him off. Shane wishes they weren’t still in public, so he could linger instead of shaking off Ilya’s other arm as well.
“Have you two eaten? There is place not far from here with very good breakfast.” She grins at Ilya. “They even have food your zaychonok (baby bunny) will eat, I checked.”
It’s an unfamiliar word, though it’s close to Ilya’s favorite nickname for him. Even though her words are directed at Ilya Shane wonders if he’s the one being teased. He’s not positive though, and it leaves him feeling a little wrong footed as they head out into the city.
They are sitting on the couch, scrolling on their phones. Shane is up against the armrest with his legs out long, his feet in Ilya's lap. They are silent for a while. Then, Shane:
"Do you ever think about what your life would be like if you never met me?"
Ilya's head snaps up, brow furrowed. His hand pauses on Shane's ankle.
"Like, at least,— I don't know, if I had never introduced myself that day in Regina." Shane looks at Ilya, earnest and seriously considering. "Then none of—," he gestures between the two of them, "—this would have happened. And things might have been easier for you. Us. Probably."
Ilya doesn't move. Scowls more.
"And we wouldn't know what we were missing, I guess, so," Shane's voice is quieter now, timid, realizing he might have misstepped. "I was just wondering. If you think about it ever."
They stare at each other for a moment. Then Ilya throws his phone onto the cushion beside him and scrambles into Shane's lap, laying heavy accross him and gripping him tight. Ilya nuzzles his face into Shane's chest as though he's trying to carve out more space in his body to burrow into. Shane's arms wrap around Ilya instinctually, his fingers finding the nape of his neck and twirling the curly hair there. He holds Ilya like this, thinking he probably would know what he was missing if he never had this. Somehow, inexplicably— he's sure he would.
"Don't you ever fucking ask any stupid fucking shit like that ever again," Ilya grumbles into Shane's t-shirt.
Shane huffs out a laugh in surprise, then sighs when Ilya just holds him tighter in response.
"Okay," he whispers into Ilya's hair. Seals it with a kiss.
They lay like this for a couple of minutes, Shane running his fingers up and down Ilya's back, Ilya breathing heavy on top of him. After a bit, Ilya looks up, props his chin on Shane's chest, wide-eyed and pouting. Shane all but whimpers when he realizes Ilya's eyes are a little red.
"Say you're sorry."
"I'm sorry, Ilya." He leans down to kiss his waiting lips. "I won't ever ask any stupid fucking shit like that ever again."
Ilya reaches up for another kiss, lets this one linger a bit. Softly nudges his tongue into Shane's mouth, then pulls back, just slightly.
"Stupid fucking idiot," he whispers against Shane's lips, then sits back up and returns to scrolling on his phone.
It’s stupid. He knows he’s being ridiculous, which honestly only makes it worse.
Shane watches Ilya laugh with his dearest friend, happy and beautiful under the pulsing lights, and hates the jealousy curling around his heart like a hissing cat. Why can’t he be normal about this?
Svetlana has been nothing but nice to him, he likes her, which is really just another thing that sharpens the sting of shame. But this thing has been pumping through his bloodstream, poisoning him from the moment they got here.
–
They’d managed to sweet talk his mom into holding off on any media appearances or brand deals for the first part of the summer once they’re both knocked out of the playoffs (Ilya says it’s because “No one can say no to your pretty pout, zaychik, is not just me” but Shane secretly believes it has far more to do with the giant soft spot both of his parents have for Ilya) so they can have a solid two weeks to themselves before they have to lock in to preparing for Game Changers. They kick it off with a visit to Boston.
The trip to Ilya’s sort-of home town is only a few days including travel, so Shane convinces him to sacrifice his usual off season sleep in for one day to catch the earliest flight. At least since their announcement on The Irina Foundation, they have a reasonable excuse to be seen traveling together. As much as he’d love a road trip with Ilya, he’d hate to waste even more of the limited time they set aside for this on the long drive there and back.
They land at Logan just after 10am.
Unsurprisingly, they’re spotted by fans at baggage claim. Even less surprising considering where they are, they’re far more interested in Ilya. Shane stands off to the side, watching as Ilya is charming as always. He’s smiling fondly at a trio of young boys who crowd around him asking for his autograph and telling him all about how they can’t wait to play hockey like him some day. Shane thinks of the upcoming camp, wonders if he’ll see these boys there someday.
He’s so good with kids. It makes something in Shane ache, knowing he can never give that to Ilya. A future with Shane probably means a future without children. Biologically, for sure, but also Shane’s just not sure if it’s something he wants. He loves playing uncle to the Pike children, but he knows that parenthood is an entirely different beast. Is it something Ilya wants? It doesn’t seem like something that has a middle ground. If they’re on opposite sides…
Shane’s pretty sure Ilya would have stayed there all day, happily soaking in the joy of these kids, if it weren’t for a delicate cough interrupting their chatter.
“Sorry to interrupt, boys, but I am here to collect Mr. Rozanov and Mr. Hollander.”
As Ilya says his goodbyes to the kids, Shane turns to greet Ilya’s oldest friend. The smile forming on his face freezes in place a little when he finally sees her, an unexpected tightness in his chest.
He’s seen pictures, of course, he knew she was beautiful. But the woman standing in front of him is stunning. Her wild curls are gathered in a messy pile at the top of her head, a few perfect ringlets escaping to frame her face. She’s dressed casually, he supposes, but he can’t help but think she looks like a model in her jean shorts and halter top. Her makeup is light, natural, just enough to accentuate her piercing eyes.
Eyes that are staring right back at him, shit. At least she looks amused rather than put off by his awkwardness. He brushes off the tension and extends his hand between them.
“Hi, it’s uh, it’s nice to meet you, Svetlana?” Why does he say her name like a question? “I’m Shane. Hollander.”
She smirks at him, but not unkindly. “Yes, Shane Hollander, I know who you are.” She bypasses his stilted attempt at a handshake and pulls him in for a hug instead. “Is nice to finally meet you, Jane.” she whispers in his ear.
Ilya, finally done with his little fans, wraps them both in his arms. “Ah, my two favorite people together at last!”
Svetlana laughs, rolling her eyes at his antics and shoving him off. Shane wishes they weren’t still in public, so he could linger instead of shaking off Ilya’s other arm as well.
“Have you two eaten? There is place not far from here with very good breakfast.” She grins at Ilya. “They even have food your zaychonok (baby bunny) will eat, I checked.”
It’s an unfamiliar word, though it’s close to Ilya’s favorite nickname for him. Even though her words are directed at Ilya Shane wonders if he’s the one being teased. He’s not positive though, and it leaves him feeling a little wrong footed as they head out into the city.
shane in the beginning of their official relationship being unsure of how to do casual intimacy because he’s used to only get it if it’s during sex or with the intent of turning into sex but now they’re boyfriends and he doesn’t always know how to navigate that so sometimes he will just 🧍🏻♂️ in the middle of the room because he wants a smooch but he’s unsure of how to progress and he feels weird asking for it before eventually realizing that ilya is more than happy to indulge
first post for context / see the tag 'open relationship au' for more or the masterlist so kindly put together by @tafkarfanfic.
and with this snippet the story is officially over! i might add to this AU later (if you want to know when i do, you can follow either the masterlist or my pinned post) but for now i'm gonna take a little break from it. HUGE thank you to everyone who read along and left me such lovely and encouraging replies and asks. you guys are the best <333 and a special thank you to @quillquiver for talking through some ideas with me and to @tafkarfanfic for managing the masterlist <3
July 2015
Shane is quiet on the ride home. He doesn't ask for the keys to the car back so Ilya drives, relieved at having something useful to do.
The silence is a little concerning. Ilya is starting to think maybe knocking on the door before the twenty minutes were up was a mistake. Shane did explicitly ask him to wait.
He'd just been so worried, stomach twisting into knots as he pictured all the ways Brian could be trying to win Shane back, or all the things he might be saying to hurt him. It hadn't sat right with Ilya in the first place, letting Shane go up there alone, even though rationally Ilya had no business going with him.
At least Shane is letting him stick around now. Ilya keeps waiting to be sent away, for Shane to ask for some privacy, but he says nothing as Ilya follows him up to his apartment.
Once they're alone and the door is locked behind them, Shane turns around and collapses against Ilya.
Ilya wraps his arms around him instinctively, heart jumping when Shane burrows his face in the crook of his neck.
"It's done," Ilya says, because he isn't sure if he can tell Shane it's okay yet. He strokes his back, feels the tension slowly draining out of Shane's body. "You did it. You were perfect."
Shane laughs shakily, breath warm and damp against Ilya's skin. "Was I? I felt kind of pathetic."
"No," Ilya protests immediately. "You were brave."
"Shut up."
"You were."
Shane pulls back, just enough to look Ilya in the eye. He looks away quickly, a habit Ilya has tried and failed not to find endearing.
"What now?"
Ilya hesitates. He wants to stay, to hold Shane until today (until every single moment he spent with Brian) is a distant memory, no longer capable of hurting him. He also wants to fall into bed together, because there is at all time at least a little part of him that wants to be fucking Shane Hollander.
But maybe that isn't what Shane needs. Maybe he needs this time alone, to think and to figure out for himself what he wants.
"Is up to you," Ilya says, unable to hold back a smile at the way Shane's lips twist in distaste at the idea of being in charge.
"I don't know." Shane sighs. "It's probably a bad idea, but I kind of just want you to fuck me until I stop thinking so much."
It's definitely a bad idea. But what about them isn't?
"I can do that."
They fuck twice.
After the first round, Shane cries.
It starts with tears slipping silently down his cheeks. Ilya reaches to brush them away and Shane makes a wounded noise, flinching back. Still, he doesn't protest when Ilya wraps an arm around his shoulder, tucking him in close to his chest. Doesn't say anything except a shaky "Sorry", in between shuddering breaths.
Ilya has no idea what he's doing, if he's helping Shane or hurting him. He just knows that thinking about Shane breaking apart like this alone, crying into a cold pillow instead of wetting Ilya's collarbone with his tears, feels like dying.
After a while Shane's breathing steadies.
"Sorry," he says again, voice hoarse.
And before Ilya can tell him not to worry about it, Shane grabs his face and pulls him in for a kiss. It's wet with tears, shallow and messy and perfect.
The second round is slow. Shane wraps his legs around Ilya's waist, keeps them locked like he's afraid Ilya will disappear if he lets go. Ilya thrusts into him in short, deep movements, grinding more than fucking, hand tucked in the tight space between them and wrapped around Shane's weeping cock.
Shane comes first, nails digging into Ilya's back and hole clenching around him, moaning Ilya's name. Ilya follows helplessly, biting down on his tongue to keep from blurting out any ill-advised confessions.
As he moves to pull out Shane locks his legs around him tighter, keeping him still. Ilya takes the permission to collapse on top of him, head tucked against Shane's shoulder.
For a while, they just breathe together.
Then Shane sighs. "Rose would be disappointed in me."
"Hm?"
"The girl I talked to the other day," Shane says. "The one who helped me figure out my shit with Brian."
Ilya's hand twitches, grip tightening around Shane's waist possessively. He definitely doesn't like hearing that name while he's still buried deep in Shane's ass.
"She told me I should stay single for a while," Shane continues. "Which was probably good advice."
"Probably, yes," Ilya admits. He raises his head, catching Shane's eyes. "Is that what you want?"
"No, not really."
Ilya's heart soars. "No?"
"I want to be with you," Shane says, clear and to the point. Fearless, despite everything. "I like you. Probably more than I should."
"I like you, too." Then, much as it kills him, because one of them has to say it, "It will be complicated."
Shane swallows. "I know."
Ilya cups his cheek, thumb brushing across a dried tear track. His chest feels full, heart straining against his rib cage like it could burst it open. He doesn't understand how Shane could have gone through all that he did and still look at him like this, so open and trusting.
Ilya loves him. His Shane, his brave, beautiful boy.
"We will figure it out."
Shane kisses him, feather soft. There's something coy in his expression when he pulls back, a glimpse of uncertainty. "We could - I have this cottage. We could got there, be alone there to figure things out together. If you want."
Ilya's heart jumps. "I want. Today?"
"If you don't have someplace else to be."
Ilya doesn't, not after clearing his schedule to make it to Montreal. Even if he hadn't, he'd move heaven and earth to do it now. He tells Shane this and Shane smiles, bright like the sun.
"We could have a week," Shane says. "Maybe two, if you won't be sick of me yet."
"Never," Ilya says with absolute certainty. "I could never be sick of you."
Shane's smile dims. It's clear he doesn't really believe him.
That's fine. Ilya will keep showing him until he does.
laughing about the idea of ilya over time being able to predict when shane is going to be brainstorming late into the night and then waking him up about something. shane has A Specific Look when this is going to happen, and ilya knows that even fucking him stupid isn't going to save him from being shaken awake at 3 am to have rapid-fire english happen at him.
someone at dinner is talking about the complexities of funeral arrangements and how hard it is to organize everything when already grieving and ilya sees The Look happening on shane's face at his side and is then just
knowing he's going to get woken up at fuck o'clock tonight to talk about the fully-detailed options of cremation versus burial shane is going to run past him.
the only preparation he can do is to wear his wedding ring to bed so when he wakes up he remembers that he loves this man even when he's yanking him out of a rem cycle to take him through a verbal powerpoint.
That’s not to shift blame on her or anything, it wasn’t a bad idea. Logically, he understood it. Finding yourself in love with your casual fling was stupid and pathetic, and “get over him by getting under someone else” is a cliche for a reason right?
So it wasn’t a bad plan. It just…didn’t quite go as expected.
“Can you please stop calling this my ‘Hot Girl Summer’?”
“I cannot.”
“First of all, it’s January. Second of all, I’m not a girl.”
She smirks at him. “So you admit you’re hot?”
“No! That’s not what I-” He rolls his eyes as she laughs at him. “Ugh, you’re the worst.”
“Please, I’m the best thing to ever happen to you. Who else was gonna tell you that you’re gay?” She leans over his shoulder with a squint. “Or tell you that you have to upload at least one shirtless pic? C’mon, I get you’ve never used a dating app before but even you have to know the tropes!”
One of the perks of being the gay bestie of a movie star is that she knows tons of closeted famous people. Or, more relevant to his current situation, she knows the super elite secret anonymous gay hookup app they use. The kind that was invite only.
She’s currently using that knowledge to bully him into making a profile that will actually catch someone’s attention. She told Miles to get him on it, laughing when his response was bitching about girl code meaning he couldn’t ‘hit that’ himself. Miles was out and proud now, but he says he had many pleasant nights thanks to the app and sends wishes of luck with the invite link.
Even though, presumably, everyone using the app has the same secret and would be outing themselves if they called anyone else out for being on said app (“What were you doing at the devil’s sacrament?” “I have no idea what that means.” “God Shane you’re so uncultured!”), one of the golden rules is no faces. Shane feels equal parts relieved and odd about it.
On the one hand, he would absolutely not be willing to put his face on a gay dating app. He’s come out of the closet to exactly one person, and really she came out for him so does that even count? He’s coming to terms with it all, but he’s not exactly ready to start waving the pride flag. Baby steps.
On the other, it feels a little weird to be so…impersonal. Which is the point, he supposes, of a hookup. It’s just that with Ilya…with Rozanov it never felt quite so…seedy.
Rose tells him he’s being too precious about it because he stupidly involved his heart when it was only supposed to be his dick (“Or I guess your hole” “I’m never telling you anything ever again”) that was in the game so he doesn’t know what a hookup is supposed to be like.
Which…fair.
So here he is. He’s finding he has shockingly few pictures of himself that aren’t still revealing even without his face. Most of what he has are either in his jersey or from events where he was dressed by someone else. He’s got some stupid mirror selfie he took for god knows what reason (definitely not to send to Rozanov), a couple of shots from the gym…and that’s about it. Rose provides a candid he didn’t even know she took of him in a suit from a date that hadn’t been caught by paparazzi.
The photos part is easy, really. Straightforward. He crops out his head and uploads them for his fellow closeted homosexuals so they can decide if he’s worthy of a salacious one night stand.
The profile is another story. How does one advertise themselves without actually talking about themselves?
“Hockey is not the only thing that’s relevant about you Shane, Jesus. And you can say you’re an athlete. Most of the people on here mention at least the field their career is in. You don’t have to actually have much of a bio anyway. The more important thing is answering the questions, those will help filter out people you’re incompatible with like other bottoms. You’re not looking for your soulmate, you’re looking for someone hot who will do hot things with you.”
The questions are a mix of easy and complicated. Top, bottom, or verse? Easy. What’s your go to move when seducing someone?
“I don’t know! I don’t think I ever have seduced someone.”
“How’d the hookup with Mr. Unnamed Guy start then?” He can feel his face heat up enough that he knows it’s bright red. ”Oh my god, now you have to tell me!”
Rose doesn’t know anything about Rozanov, least of all that he is Rozanov. Shane struggles to think of what to say that doesn’t give too much away. The last thing he wants to do is out someone else, even if he knows Rose would take the secret to her grave. He figures the bare bones of it are vague enough.
“It was at a photo shoot. He kind of…jerked off at me in the showers?”
“Oh. My. GOD! Shane. That worked on you? What am I saying, of course it did. You would like the direct approach. Okay, so he seduced you then. It’s fine, just skip that one.”
He quickly works through answering enough questions to have a somewhat decent profile, but before he bites the bullet and publishes he pauses.
“Do I…I mean I feel like I should mention that I’m Asian somewhere right?”
“Oh shit, yeah probably. Miles has told me enough horror stories to know that sadly being gay does not make one immune to being a piece of shit. Best to weed out the bigots.”
Right. He adds a quick little sentence about being half Japanese, lets Rose give the entire thing one last inspection, then hits publish.
I so understand the vision of Shane going on a hot-girl hookup era after his breakup with Rose (possibly from Rose's encouragement to get over the Unnamed Guy), but I'm gonna be honest-- I think any hookup Shane has during their breakup would leave him unsatisfied and realize Ilya has had feelings from the fucking start.
Any casual encounter Shane would have would leave him feeling not great because like... where are the slow kisses??? where is the fun and the smiles??? where is the passion???? where is the banter???? why are we rushing through prep???? where is the praise???? where is the gentle but firm possessiveness????
He leaves the encounters feeling like just a body. Ilya has never made him feel that way (maybe once in Vegas, but that was only After-- not during the whole fucking thing and has never happened since)
I fully believe Shane would just need one or two casual hookups outside of Ilya to realize 2 major things:
1. What he and Ilya do is NOT the standard for hookup culture
and
2. Ilya is definitely in love with him too.
first post for context / see the tag 'open relationship au' for more snippets or the masterlist so kindly put together by @tafkarfanfic. it's time <3 (or is it...?)
July 2015
Shane texts Brian that he had an unexpected brand opportunity come up and that he'll be out of town for a few days. Then he books it to his cottage.
It's maybe cowardly but just this once, Shane thinks he's fine being a coward. The thought of seeing Brian right now makes him feel uneasy, like being on the ice without any padding. The version of himself who thought he could love Brian again seems like a stranger to him now. Shane doesn't want to become him again but he can't trust his own judgment, so. Safer to stay away.
Being alone in the cottage helps him gain some equilibrium, even though the closer it gets to Ilya's plane touching down in Montreal, the slower time seems to pass and the more Shane feels like clawing his skin off.
He still kind of can't believe Ilya offered to come. It makes him oddly giddy thinking about it, sets off a flutter in his stomach like he's some teenager with a crush.
Rose said you should stay single, he reminds himself. But then, She doesn't know Ilya, though. She wouldn't have said that if she knew him.
God, he really is turning into a teenager.
It should feel scarier, considering his track record. Shane has no rational explanation for why it doesn't. Why, despite everything, Ilya feels so safe to him.
The day Ilya arrives in Montreal, Shane drives back home feeling miraculously calm. It's like locking in for a game, he reasons. He knows the play, knows he has teammates backing him up, so now he just has to execute it.
Shane beats Ilya to the apartment by a couple of hours. He experiences a brief moment of panic when he hears a knock on the door, a vivid imagine of Brian standing on the other side popping up in his head.
It's Ilya, of course, which does nothing to slow Shane's heart rate but does make his stomach swoop funnily.
"Hey," he says, breathless.
"Hey," Ilya replies softly. He looks a little bit shell-shocked, eyes scanning Shane's face like he can't believe he's real.
Shane wants to kiss him so bad.
But first thing's first.
Ilya doesn't join him for the actual breakup. Even Shane, with his compromised judgment, recognizes how crazy that would be. He stays in the car outside, which shouldn't be a problem because Shane doesn't plan on letting this drag out.
"It'll be ten, maybe fifteen minutes," Shane tells him. His hands feel sweaty around the wheel of his car so he removes them, rubbing them on his pants. "If I'm not back in twenty, you can come in."
Ilya's eyebrows quirk. "That's quick."
"I can't do a whole confrontation," Shane says. "I just need to tell him it's over. I don't - I don't owe him anything more than that."
It feels kind of true. Shane counts that as progress.
"You don't," Ilya agrees.
He takes Shane's hand, squeezing it. Shane squeezes back, the touch grounding him.
His palm still feel warm as he's knocking on Brian's door.
It takes Brian twenty-seven seconds to answer. There's a surreal moment as he opens the door that Shane braces himself, expecting some flood of emotions, only for nothing to happen.
Shane is looking at his boyfriend of eight years and he feels nothing.
Then his eyes catch on the yellowing bruise on Brian's cheek and something does stir - a hollow kind of pain at the center of his chest.
He lied about that bruise so easily, his story seemingly designed to knock Shane off-kilter.
What else has he been lying about?
"You're back," Brian says once the door is closed. He smiles. "You know, you could have let yourself in. That's why I gave you a key."
"Right." Shane reaches into his pocket, fist closing around said key. "I actually - I came to give it back."
Brian blinks. "Give it back?"
"And to break up with you," Shane adds.
It slips out and Shane immediately regrets how flippant he sounds. Brian laughs, because of course he thinks it's a joke.
"You're fucking with me, right?"
"I'm not."
Shane tries to hand him the key. Brian's arms stay stubbornly at his side, smile sliding off his face. Finally, Shane puts the key down on the counter instead.
"You're fucking with me," Brian repeats shakily. "I don't - is this because of Vegas? I thought we were moving past it. Things have been good between us since we talked it out."
It's an unpleasant reminder of how differently they've been viewing this relationship. "Things haven't been good. I haven't been happy."
"Then you're not trying hard enough." Brian takes a step towards him, hand held out. Shane steps back. "Shane." His voice turns pleading. "Please, think it through. You can't give up on us just like that."
"This isn't a spur of the moment decision," Shane says. He really didn't mean to get into it but God. Has Brian always talked to him like this, like he's a stupid kid who doesn't understand his own heart? "I haven't been happy with you for a while."
"Is this because of Rozanov?"
Irritation shoots through Shane. "Fuck off."
"It is," Brian says, eyes heated. "We didn't start having problems until you started fucking him."
"And whose idea was that?" Shane snaps. He huffs, uncertain if he's more angry at Brian for making this so difficult or at himself for getting distracted. "It doesn't matter. I wasn't happy before we opened the relationship either. It's - you're not good for me. I don't think you ever were."
Brian laughs incredulously. "I get it. You need me to be the bad guy, huh?"
"That's not what I said."
"Might as well have. If I'm so awful, what does that make you? Why would you choose to be with someone who apparently makes you so miserable?"
"I was sixteen." Shane feels his shoulder hunching, feels the way he's making himself smaller, and forces himself to straighten. "I didn't know any better. You took advantage of that."
Brian goes still. "You're kidding me. That's your excuse?"
Shane's stomach twists. "It's not a fucking excuse."
"I didn't even know your age."
It didn't stop you once you found out, Shane almost responds. He can't. He feels exhausted all of a sudden, imagining going through every shitty thing Brian has done, having to argue every point and listen to Brian try to minimize it or pretend there wasn't any harm.
Shane doesn't want to do any of that. He just wants to get out of here.
He wants to see Ilya.
"I'm not gonna do this with you," he says. "It's over. We're broken up. Have a nice life, or whatever."
He turns to leave and Brian grabs his arm. Shane shakes him off unthinkingly and Brian flinches back at the force of it.
"Shane." Brian's demeanor has shifted completely, voice gone soft, eyes pleading. "Please. I can't lose you."
It's incredibly unkind, but Shane can't help but think he's being pathetic.
"I've hurt you," Brian continues, taking Shane's hesitation as some sign of his willingness to listen. "I understand. I never meant to, but I did and I'd do anything to make it up to you."
He's not even saying sorry. All of these theatrics and Brian can't even be bothered to apologize. Shane wonders if he even realizes it.
He shouldn't be entertaining this. He's not actually gonna forgive Brian. And still, "You could start by telling me the truth."
"The truth?" Brian echoes.
"How you really got that bruise," Shane suggests mildly. "Why you came to Vegas. Why you even suggested an open relationship in the first place, when you were fucking other people already."
He doesn't mean to let that last question slip but it's been eating at him since Rose suggested the possibility. He takes no pleasure in seeing Brian's face pale and knowing that she was right.
"Who have you been talking to?"
Shane wants to punch something. He wants to throw up. He didn't think it was possible for him to care so much when he doesn't even want Brian anymore, but it hurts all the same.
Rose was wrong. Shane is stupid. Naive and too trusting for his own good.
"It didn't mean anything," Brian is saying. His voice sounds far away. "It was a moment of weakness. You're the only one I love, the only one I've ever loved."
A sharp knock thankfully interrupts him. Before either of them can react the (apparently unlocked) door swings open.
"It's been twenty minutes," Ilya says. He shoots Brian a dismissive glance before focusing his attention on Shane. "Are you finished?"
Shane has never been happier to see him. "Yeah. Yeah, let's go."
"You can't be serious," Brian says weakly.
Shane ignores him. He reaches the door, allows Ilya to place his hand on the small of his back and guide him past the threshold.
Brian doesn't protests again. Maybe it's finally sinking in for him that it's useless. Maybe seeing Shane with Ilya made him stop wanting to try. Or maybe he fucking spontaneously combusted.
I so understand the vision of Shane going on a hot-girl hookup era after his breakup with Rose (possibly from Rose's encouragement to get over the Unnamed Guy), but I'm gonna be honest-- I think any hookup Shane has during their breakup would leave him unsatisfied and realize Ilya has had feelings from the fucking start.
Any casual encounter Shane would have would leave him feeling not great because like... where are the slow kisses??? where is the fun and the smiles??? where is the passion???? where is the banter???? why are we rushing through prep???? where is the praise???? where is the gentle but firm possessiveness????
He leaves the encounters feeling like just a body. Ilya has never made him feel that way (maybe once in Vegas, but that was only After-- not during the whole fucking thing and has never happened since)
I fully believe Shane would just need one or two casual hookups outside of Ilya to realize 2 major things:
1. What he and Ilya do is NOT the standard for hookup culture
and
2. Ilya is definitely in love with him too.
first post for context / see the tag 'open relationship au' for more snippets or the masterlist so kindly put together by @tafkarfanfic. we're nearing the end now! just two parts left.
July 2015
Under normal circumstances, returning to Russia feels like treading water.
Ilya keeps himself busy. He trains, he cares for his father, and on the weekends he drinks and parties and fucks his way through Moscow's best nightclubs. It's all just enough to keep him afloat.
But these aren't normal circumstances. Right now, Ilya feels like he's drowning.
He ruined everything in Vegas. Approaching Shane the way he did, pushing his feelings onto him and demanding he break up with his boyfriend. Ilya doesn't know what the right words would have been in that scenario but he does know that he picked exactly the wrong ones.
And still, he didn't appreciate at the time how badly the night went until the radio silence from Shane that followed. The night before his flight to Moscow, Ilya caved and sent a text. Shane read it almost immediately but he hasn't replied.
Ilya understands rejection when he sees it.
Worse than his own broken heart is knowing that Shane is suffering, too. Ilya doesn't know how Brian convinced Shane to stay with him but he sure as fuck knows he didn't do it by becoming a better person. Men like him don't change.
So Ilya failed. He failed himself and he failed Shane, and all he can do about it now is drown his sorrows.
Sveta helps. She follows him from club to club, drinks with him so he doesn't have to do it alone. She hits the dance floor when he insists he's fine, really, go have fun, but she's always there to drag his ass home at the end of the night.
"You'll figure it out," she tells him in the backseat of a taxi one night, her hand soft on top of his.
She doesn't even know what happened. Ilya would rather die than tell her how badly he fucked up. "I won't."
"You will," Sveta says with absolute confidence. "As soon as you're done feeling sorry for yourself."
Ilya wants to tell her it's not himself he feels most sorry for.
His hangover the next morning is thankfully mild. The emotional hangover - he's pretty sure he shed a few tears while hugging Sveta goodnight, how pathetic - is much worse.
Still, Ilya keeps the blinds drawn and the lights low as he goes through his morning routine. He eats is breakfast in a distracted daze, mind running through memories of last night (he didn't cry in front of the taxi driver, too, did he?). It takes him a few moments to notice that his phone is ringing.
He glances down and nearly drops it in surprise.
Shane is calling.
Ilya has the phone by his ear before he can even stop to think.
"Hi," Shane says again. His voice is tinny and far away and Ilya misses him so much it aches. "I, um. Sorry. I know we don't really call but it's been a weird night."
Ilya does a quick calculation in his head. "It is still night for you, Hollander."
"I guess so, yeah." Shane laughs. "I just got home, and I realized it would be morning for you and I just - I wanted to talk to you."
Ilya's heart is pounding. This has to be a good sign, right? Shane wouldn't call in the middle of the night just to tell him he never wants to see him again.
Shane clears his throat. "I wanted to apologize, first of all. About Vegas. And about not responding to your text."
Ilya is shaking his head before he realizes that Shane can't see him. "Don't. I should be apologizing. I didn't mean to push you like that."
There's a long silence.
Then, "I'm glad you did. What you said... I needed to hear it."
Ilya doesn't know how to interpret that, can't read Shane over the phone like this.
"I thought about it after you left," Shane continues. "What I really want. If I'm happy. I don't think I've done that in... fuck, maybe ever. Not since I decided I wanted to be a professional hockey player."
Ilya laughs, because God. That is so Shane.
"I think - I think we could be happy. Together." Shane's voice is quiet but steady. Ilya's hand curls, itching with the need to touch him. "I want us to try, at least."
"I want that, too," Ilya says thickly.
Shane lets out a shuddering breath. "Fuck. Okay. Good, that's - good."
"So you and Brian - ?"
"I tried breaking it off," Shane says, and Ilya is flooded with relief for a moment before his brain snags on the word 'tried'. "Last week. I invited him over to end it. I was so sure that I didn't want to be together anymore, I don't know how I let him change my mind." He laughs, a bitter sound. "Bad habit, I guess. I don't know, I had a whole speech prepared. It threw me off when he showed up with a black eye."
Ilya winces. "Ah. I'm sorry about that."
He's not, really, but it feels like the thing to say.
"Sorry about what?"
"About... punching him?"
"Ah." He hears Shane exhaling slowly. "That's not - he told me something else."
This surprises Ilya. He would have figured Brian would relish in the opportunity to make him look like a violent thug.
"He tried to punch me first," Ilya offers.
"Of course he did," Shane mutters. "That's - I'm getting off topic."
"Sorry," Ilya says, more sincerely this time.
"I met someone tonight," Shane says, and Ilya's heart seizes before he continues, "Rose. She kind of... talked sense into me. I didn't realize how bad things have been with Brian until she laid it all out."
Ilya is glad for it but also, "I told you he was an asshole many years ago."
"Can't imagine why I might have thought you'd have an ulterior motive," Shane says dryly.
This is fair.
"But you will break up with him now," Ilya says, not quite as confidently as he'd like.
"I want to," Shane says. His voice has gone tight. "I'm just scared."
Ilya feels cold. "He would hurt you?"
"I'd kick his ass if he tried." It calms Ilya's heart, how quickly and certainly Shane says it. "But I don't trust my own judgment, I guess. I don't think he could change my mind again, but I didn't think he could the first time, either."
"I'll come with you."
The offer has left Ilya's lips before he can think twice. But he means it, truly.
"You'll come with me?" Shane repeats, baffled. "To break up with my boyfriend?"
Right. Maybe this is a strange suggestion. "Or I will be close by. For moral support."
"But you're in Russia."
"I will be back in..." Ilya hesitates, calculating the shortest possible amount of time it would take him to put all his affairs in order, "four days."
"Really?"
"Really," Ilya says. He will have to look up flights as soon as he hangs up. "If this is alright?"
"Are you sure? You must have other plans."
Ilya waves his hand. "Nothing that can't wait."
"If you're sure," Shane says. His voice is shaking, a little bit.
