Some facts in life are simply, irrefutably true.
The sky is blue.
Ilya Rozanov is one of the best hockey players in the MLH.
Shane Hollander is boring.
Here's another: Ilya loves that Shane Hollander is boring.
He loves that he folds his clothes before sex and he loves that he reads boring hockey books and he loves that he goes to bed at a reasonable hour - even on the weekends.
Right now, Shane is poring over a jigsaw puzzle spread across his coffee table with the same intensity that he usually watches players on the ice. As if the two things are of equal importance.
And he looks so fucking cute with his stupid glasses and his hair a little bit longer in the front now and flopping over his forehead and the furrow of concentration between his eyebrows and-
Ilya drapes himself across Shane's back and wraps his arms around him from behind, kissing his cheek and his jaw in quick succession.
"What?" Shane asks distractedly. He fits two of the pieces together but still settles his free hand over Ilya's where it sits across his middle.
"Nothing," Ilya tells him. "I like your face. Can I help you with puzzle?"
Shane stills, his head turning slightly towards Ilya even though his eyes are still on the coffee table. He looks like can't decide if he's being made fun of or not. It makes Ilya want to kiss him more.
"You want to help me?" he asks sceptically.
"Mhm," Ilya hums, dropping his chin onto Shane's shoulder. He doesn't think he's ever done a jigsaw puzzle in his life. Maybe when he was a child. Definitely never one of these one thousand piece puzzles Shane is currently embroiled in finishing.
"...Why?" Shane asks, sounding mystified.
Ilya suppresses a grin, kissing Shane's shoulder. "Because I want to spend time with you and I won't get to as long as you are trying to finish this stupid puzzle."
"I knew you thought it was stupid." Shane sounds triumphant and Ilya rolls his eyes.
"Did you not hear the other nice things I said?"
Shane twists fully this time to look at him. He dislodges Ilya's chin but it's worth it to be on the receiving end of that private smile no one else ever gets to see.
"You relly want to help me?" he asks, thumb brushing over the back of Ilya's hand where his arms are still wrapped around him.
"Yes."
Shane beams, quick and beautiful, and presses his smile against Ilya's mouth. And what is Ilya supposed to do but kiss him back?