Chapter Text
ILYA
"I hate this," Ilya huffed. "I’m with Shane, I’m in Canada, I have a good job, I have my own apartment, I have my mom, why am I messing it all up with my stupid brain?"
Galina watched him in silence; it wasn't the first time they’d had this conversation, and she feared it wouldn't be the last.
"Ilya, you have an illness. There’s no miracle cure, but there is treatment." She used her gentlest tone so it wouldn't sound like an accusation. "Are you taking your medication?"
"I shouldn't need it," he said, sinking into the soft white armchair.
"If you had a heart condition, wouldn't you take your medication exactly as prescribed?"
"Yeah, probably," he sighed. "But it’s been years, shouldn't it be getting easier? Why do I still feel so..."
Ilya let the words die on his lips; "sadness" seemed too weak a word to define it, but the other word was one Ilya avoided like the plague, afraid that the mere act of mentioning it might cause him to be consumed by it all over again.
"I’m afraid medication can’t change your human condition, Ilya; you’re still a person with both good and bad feelings, just like everyone else."
"Stupid feelings," he muttered.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Ilya hesitated, but he’d been in therapy long enough to know that talking usually helped.
"I wish he’d seen this... seen me happy with Shane." His voice caught. "I know he was happy with my mom, but I wanted him to know that loving someone of the same sex doesn't have to be a source of suffering like it was for him... that he could have lived at peace with himself."
"I see," Galina said.
"I wish it had been easier for him."
"Compassion is a very noble feeling."
"Maybe so," he shrugged.
When the silence stretched on too long, Galina asked, "Is something else bothering you?"
Ilya weighed whether to tell her, but he realized there was no one else he felt comfortable sharing that information with.
"My mom gave me this phone," he took a deep breath. "The damn phone with Shane's potential messages."
"You haven't read them?"
"I don't even know if they're there," he confessed in frustration. "I couldn't bring myself to look; I was so happy, and then those feelings came rushing back."
"Do you want them to be there?"
"That’s the thing, I have no idea. I feel like there’s a void, and maybe this could help me fill it, help me reclaim the time and everything else that was stolen from us." His foot tapped impatiently against the floor. "On the other hand, I don't know if I'm ready to read them. I don't know if I'm ready for what I might feel if I do."
"What feelings do you think might come up when you read the messages?"
"I don't know, guilt, maybe? Though I already feel that more often than I’d like." He shrugged. "I also wonder if he read them."
"Your father?"
"Yeah. I don't want to hate him, but the thought that he might have seen Shane's suffering and decided to ignore it... that wouldn't make me very happy," he said bitterly.
"Are you happy now?"
Ilya stared at Galina as if she had asked a stupid question.
"Of course not; that’s exactly why I came here today."
She looked at him silently.
"Are you saying you think I should read them?"
"From everything you've told me, it sounds like you're afraid of feeling something you're already experiencing, in a way."
"When you put it like that, it sounds stupid."
"That’s not my intention," she smiled calmly. "But isn't suffering in anticipation a form of suffering, too?"
"I don't even know if there's anything to read, honestly." He huffed in frustration.
"You should take your medication, Ilya. Making decisions while you're emotionally dysregulated isn't the best choice. Take your time and be careful with yourself; if those messages are really there now, they'll still be there when you feel ready."
After leaving Galina's office, Ilya still hadn't made a decision about the phone, but the first thing he did when he got to his apartment was take his medication.
Ilya wasn't ignorant; he knew why he needed to take his meds, he’d even lectured his mother about it back when she had to take blood pressure medication regularly. It was just that he felt personally offended by his inability to fix his stupid brain with nothing but happiness.
He forced himself to go on with his day; after work, Shane would be coming over, and Ilya could just switch off his mind and bask in his presence. Shane had been his daily comfort over the past few weeks, and Ilya never tired of it; he was addicted to the scent of his skin, the sound of his laughter, and every kiss he could get.
SHANE
Shane was lying comfortably in Ilya’s bed; as much as he liked having Ilya at his own place, he loved being in this environment, soaking it all in as much as he could.
"Did Rose confirm she’s coming for my birthday?"
"Yeah, she’s really excited to meet your sister," Shane said with a smile.
"I’m sure they’ll get along; they’re practically the same person."
"Is Svetlana a party-loving nympho who acts as a magnet for gay boyfriends?"
"You’re terrible," Ilya laughed. "I’d rather not know about the nympho part, but Svetlana loves clubbing and lives in Europe, she’s bound to have had a gay boyfriend at some point. Isn't that, like, a rite of passage?"
"I think they’re going to get along great."
Ilya’s phone started ringing; it was a video call from Svetlana.
"Speak of the devil," Ilya said, sitting up to answer it.
"Hi, are you already at the airpor..."
"Hey, look who is here," Svetlana said enthusiastically.
"Privet, Ilya," Shane heard a man’s voice say.
"Privet, Sasha."
Who was Sasha, and why was Ilya speaking Russian with him? They had barely exchanged two words, and Shane already felt a wave of discomfort wash over him.
The man kept rattling off Russian words while Ilya replied in a more reserved manner; Shane might not have understood a word of it, but he knew Ilya well enough to tell when he was acting even slightly off.
"Who’s there?" Svetlana asked when she saw Ilya’s eyes drift away from the screen.
"It’s Shane."
"Oh, let me see him," she exclaimed excitedly.
Shane shifted his body just enough so that his head was level with Ilya’s chest. His dark hair and eyes were all that the frame captured.
"Hi, Sveta," Shane greeted her, though his eyes wandered to the man beside her. "Hello."
"Hi," the man said with a smile; to Shane’s dismay, he was very handsome. Very handsome indeed.
"Oh, I miss you so much, Shane."
"Are you at the airport already?" Ilya asked.
"Yes, my flight leaves soon," she said, beaming with happiness. "We have so much to talk about... Shane, let me get a better look at you."
Shane sat up a little more, his back resting against Ilya’s chest; both were fully dressed, but Shane hoped the image looked suggestive enough to whoever that man was.
"Wow, you look amazing." She dramatically placed a hand over her heart. "Wait, did you two finally work things out?"
Her eyes widened in shock.
"Yes, we did," Ilya said softly.
An announcement in Italian could be heard over the airport loudspeakers.
"They're calling our flight," Svetlana said. "Are you going to pick us up at the airport?"
"Is Sasha coming with you?" Ilya asked in a normal tone, but Shane sensed something was off.
"Yes, he’s staying with me for two days and then heading to Toronto; he has a job there."
"Okay, I’ll pick you both up then. Send me a text when you have a layover."
"See you soon, Shane. I love you, Ilyusha."
"I love you too," Ilya replied before ending the call.
"Listen, don't be upset with me, okay?"
Shane turned to Ilya.
"Why would I be upset?"
"I didn't tell you he worked with Sveta because I didn't imagine it would matter, they live in Italy, it's so far from us..."
"What are you talking about, Ilya?"
"Sasha is the man I told you about in Russia."
"Your ex-boyfriend?"
"Yes."
"Are you telling me your ex-boyfriend is a model?"
"Is that the part that caught your attention?"
"Is he going to stay at your mother's house?"
"I think so, she wouldn't let him go to a hotel."
"And you're going to pick him up at the airport?"
"I'm going to pick up Sveta, he's with he..." Ilya interrupted himself. "Are you jealous?"
"No," Shane answered very quickly.
"So you're not jealous of me?"
"Should I? I mean, you're single, I guess..."
"Oh, am I?"
"I don't know, we've never talked about this." Shane shrugged, but he was sulking.
"Shane..." Ilya laid him back on the bed and leaned over him. "There's no one else I want. So, do I have to ask if I want you to be my boyfriend?"
"I think so."
"You want to?"
"Want what?"
Ilya laughed. "I get it, so you're playing hard to get."
"I'm not playing, I really am."
Ilya took Shane's hand and brought it to his lips, kissing it softly.
"Shane Hollander, my best friend, my soulmate, do you want to be my boyfriend?"
"I'll think about it."
Ilya snorted. "Do people know that you're an asshole?"
"No, it's a secret," Shane smiled. "Besides, I'm just being reasonable."
"How?"
"We haven't had sex yet; what if we don't like it?"
"That's impossible."
"You don't know that."
"I'm certain it's impossible for me not to like having sex with you."
"We haven't even talked about... you know, who does what."
"Do you have a preference?"
"Maybe. Don't you?"
Ilya shook his head.
"So you're willing to do either?"
"Yes, as long as you're comfortable," he caressed Shane's face. "Do you have a preference?"
"Sometimes."
"And what would that be?"
"I think I like getting fucked more than doing the fucking."
"So you don't like being the top."
"No, I like that too, just..."
"What?"
"I need to be desperate for it; I can get a little..."
"Aggressive?"
"I'd say rough, but..."
"Now I'm even more certain that it's impossible for me not to like having sex with you."
Shane kissed him, a little too eagerly.
"Shane."
"Yes?"
"Do you want to...?"
"Maybe."
"Why now?"
"What do you mean?"
"Is this because you really want it, or because you're jealous?"
"Can't it be both?"
Ilya laughed. His hand settled between Shane's jaw and the back of his neck.
"When we have sex, I want it to be because you want me so much you can't think about anything else," his eyes locked onto Shane's. "I don't want anything else in your head, let alone another man."
Shane took a deep breath, telling his cock to calm down. That had been incredibly sexy.
"Okay."
"Okay?"
Shane nodded. Then Ilya pressed his lips against his again.
ILYA
Ilya woke up the next morning expecting to feel different. Twenty-eight. No, nothing different. The same old Ilya, or perhaps a more tired version.
"Happy birthday," he murmured to himself while still lying in bed.
Svetlana would be arriving in a few hours. And Sasha. Ilya held no grudge against him, in fact, he was a really nice guy, but of all the moments he could have chosen to show up in Ilya’s life, that was certainly the most inappropriate.
Shane wasn't thrilled about the idea, but Ilya wasn't exactly fond of Hayden either, and yet they were finding a way to tolerate each other for Shane's sake. Maybe Sasha and Shane would get along; it was only for two days, they’d survive it.
Shane: Happy birthday, I can't wait to kiss you in person.
Ilya smiled at his phone; he still couldn't believe life had brought them back together.
...
Ilya stopped the car when he spotted Svetlana.
She dropped her suitcase for a moment and ran toward him; Ilya hugged her tightly, lifting her off the ground. She was the most beautiful woman in the world, and Ilya would challenge anyone who said otherwise, even looking rumpled and sleepy after hours of travel.
"I missed you so much," she said, pressing her lips against his cheek.
"I missed you too," he said, stroking her curls.
"Sasha is on his way; he went to get a coffee... Speaking of which, I’m sorry, Ilyusha, I had no idea you and Shane were together."
"It’s okay, I guess. It’s only for two days, right?"
"Yeah, I suppose so. By the way, why didn't you tell me about you and Shane?"
"To be honest, I can barely believe this is happening," Ilya sighed. "I’m so lucky; sometimes I just wait for something to go wrong."
"Hey, you’re both lucky. You’re very special too, Ilyusha, and Shane knows it."
"Thank you."
"And don't worry, Sasha didn't come here to cause any trouble. He missed you too."
As if summoned by the sound of his name, Sasha came into Ilya’s field of vision; he looked stronger than Ilya remembered, and certainly sported a better haircut than the one he’d had in his post-adolescent years.
"Here’s your coffee," he said, handing a travel mug to Svetlana. "Hi, Ilya."
"Hi, Sasha."
The man opened his arms to Ilya, who greeted him with a hug.
"Where’s your boyfriend? I thought I was going to meet him."
"You’ll meet him tonight; he’s at work right now."
"Oh, okay."
On the drive to Irina’s house, Svetlana dozed in the passenger seat, apparently, the coffee hadn’t kicked in yet. Through the rearview mirror, Ilya could see Sasha’s eyes on him.
"What is it?"
"You look different... So, are you out now?"
"It’s been a while," Ilya said. "Aren't you?"
"Sort of," Sasha smiled. "I try to keep a low profile; I still need to go back to Russia to visit my family."
"Oh, do your parents know?"
"My mom knows; my dad probably has his suspicions. It’s already bad enough for him that I work as a model," Sasha shrugged. "He loves the money, though."
"I'm sorry."
"I don't care anymore," he said with a faint smile. "It’s nice of your mom to have me over at her place."
"She’s always liked you."
"Do you think she knew... about us?"
"Probably."
"So, is she okay with you being gay?"
"I'm still not gay," Ilya corrected him. "I'm bisexual."
"Yeah, me too, I guess."
"You're not sure?" Ilya laughed.
"I don't know, sexuality is such a fluid thing... I just do whatever I feel like."
"I see. As long as it works for you, not everyone needs a label."
"Exactly, you get it," he smiled. "I missed this."
Ilya smiled back, realizing he had missed it too. In Shane's absence, Sasha had played a very important role in Ilya's life; they had been each other's support system as two queer people in Russia. He hoped Shane would be able to understand that without his presence affecting their relationship in any way.
Ilya dropped them off at his mother's house and returned to his own apartment. He hadn't planned anything special for the day; they would just order some pizzas and chat. Ever since Sergei had left, Ilya saw no point in big celebrations; all that mattered was being surrounded by people he loved, and for the first time in ten years, he could spend his birthday with Shane.
Ilya cleaned every corner of the place as if it were about to undergo a health inspection; by the end of the day, he was exhausted but satisfied with the result.
Irina, Svetlana, and Sasha arrived first. His mother had baked a cake, of course. He wanted to tell her she didn't need to go to the trouble, but who was he kidding? He would probably eat that cake until his stomach hurt.
Sasha gave him a black sweater as a gift; it looked expensive. Ilya accepted it reluctantly, swallowing the sense of inferiority he felt whenever someone gave him something he couldn't reciprocate in kind. It was his birthday; he tried not to let guilt overwhelm him for at least one day in his life.
His mother gave him a photo album with a leather cover and gold corners; it already contained some photos from his childhood and adolescence, but there was still plenty of space left to fill.
"For you to fill with happiness," she whispered in his ear as she hugged him.
"Thank you, Mama."
"Now open mine," Svetlana said, barely able to contain her excitement.
Ilya opened the small velvet box; inside was a mid-sized white gold watch, one that Ilya was certain cost a fortune.
"Are you crazy?"
"I bought it months ago; I couldn't wait any longer to give it to you."
"This is too much."
"No, it isn't. You never let me give you anything, what good is money if not to buy beautiful things for the people we love?" She said, holding Ilya's face firmly and planting a quick kiss on his cheek. "I love you."
"I love you too, little monster."
"Please, put it on; I want to make sure you wear it at least once."
Ilya extended his arm, and she helped him put it on. The doorbell rang.
"I'll get it," Svetlana said, already running out the door and down the stairs.
SHANE
Outside the building, Shane could hear hurried footsteps coming down the stairs; through the glass of the door, he spotted Svetlana.
"Jesus," Shane heard Rose whisper.
"Shaaaane." Sveta wrapped him in a hug the moment he stepped into the hall. "Oh, my God, I missed you."
"I missed you too," Shane smiled, burying his face in her incredibly fragrant curls.
"Hi, I'm Svetlana," she said, turning to Rose.
"Wow... I mean..." Rose swallowed hard. "Wow."
Sveta smiled.
"Well, you are very 'wow' too."
Rose extended her hand toward Svetlana, but the other woman simply pulled her into a quick hug.
"It's a pleasure to meet you..."
"Rose," she finally managed to say.
"Rose," Svetlana repeated the name as if it were sacred.
Shane watched it all, utterly bewildered; it was the first time in his life he had witnessed Rose left speechless. Usually, she had enough words for herself and ten other people.
Shane led the way up the steps; he was bursting with longing, even though it hadn't even been twenty-four hours since he’d last seen Ilya.
"You guys took forever to come in," Ilya said as the three of them walked through the door.
"You're so dramatic," Sveta said.
"Good evening," Shane said to everyone, though his eyes found their way to Ilya.
Shane wanted to jump on him and kiss him until he was breathless, but not with an audience watching; all he did was hug Ilya and hand him a gift.
"I know you’re emotionally attached to the copy you got from your student, but when I saw this edition, I couldn't resist."
Ilya unwrapped a special edition of To Kill a Mockingbird, a hardcover with a gold finish; the cover art featured a bird perched on a leafless tree. Shane had bought the gift for Ilya long before he knew Ilya had his own personal connection to the book.
Shane had connected with the story in his own way; at times, he felt like Boo Radley, almost like a solitary phantom himself. He had clung to books for dear life after his bout of depression, and that had led to his decision to open the bookstore, the first of his dreams to come true. The second was standing right in front of him, a grateful smile on his face.
"It's perfect," Ilya said, pressing his lips to Shane's. "Thank you."
Shane thanked God that Ilya hadn't opened the book right then and there; otherwise, he would have seen the sappy dedication Shane had written inside.
"I'll give you my gift tomorrow," Rose announced.
"You don't have to give me anything."
"Oh, but it's too late for that, because I've already planned everything. We're going out..."
"She's going to make you dance," Shane interjected.
"Can I come?" Svetlana asked excitedly.
"Of course," Rose said. "You all should come."
"Thank you, dear," Irina said, "but I'll let you young people enjoy your moment."
"But you're young too," Rose said indignantly, running her hand through Irina's hair. "Look at you, you're beautiful."
"Stop flirting with my mom," Ilya laughed.
"I'm not..." Rose smiled charmingly at Irina. "I'm not, but you should come."
"Thanks for the invitation, dear."
A while later, Svetlana and Ilya went down to pick up the pizzas. Shane watched Sasha as discreetly as he could, though he knew full well he might not be as subtle as he’d like to be.
Sasha sat down next to him while Rose chatted away with Irina about things Shane couldn't quite catch at that moment.
"Nice to meet you," Sasha said first.
"You too." They shook hands.
"You don't mind that I came, do you?"
"No." Shane smiled; it wasn't 100% true, but a month ago, Ilya had spent Shane's birthday sitting politely at the same table as Rose and Hayden, it would be hypocritical of him to complain now.
"How long have you guys..."
"Known each other?"
Sasha nodded.
"Eighteen years, more or less."
"Wait," Sasha seemed to be processing the information. "You're the childhood friend?"
"He talked about me?" Shane was surprised.
"He never mentioned your name, but you were always in the stories he told," Sasha admitted.
"He only told me your name yesterday, too," Shane laughed.
"He can be pretty guarded sometimes."
Shane nodded; he wasn't exactly annoyed by that, but knowing someone else knew Ilya as well as he did stirred up a sense of possessiveness.
"He seems happy," Sasha said, pulling Shane out of his obsessive thoughts. "With you. I'm glad you two found each other."
Before Shane could say anything else, Sasha was already back in his previous seat, and Sveta and Ilya were walking into the apartment again.
They ate and chatted casually for the next hour; Shane thought that not in a million years could he have imagined himself experiencing this. He felt at peace with the warmth Ilya had brought back to his chest. There was a name for that feeling, and he hoped he’d be able to say it out loud soon.
Irina called Ilya over to cut the cake, and he stood up to help her; Anya, who had been waiting patiently for this moment, ran over to curl up in Shane’s lap.
"You’re the best doggy in the whole world," he whispered to her. Ilya watched them from across the room.
"I wanted to say something," Irina said, placing some disposable plates on the coffee table. "I know you aren't a fan of big speeches, but I just wanted to tell you how proud I am of you and everything you’ve become, and I know your father would be, too."
Even from across the room, Shane could see Ilya’s eyes well up with tears.
"Ya lyublyu tebya, mama," Ilya said as he hugged her.
A thought struck Shane instantly; he leaned toward Svetlana, who was sitting next to him, and whispered:
"What did he say?"
"He said he loves her," Sveta smiled, completely unaware of the shock coursing through Shane’s body at that moment.
Irina and Ilya were already busy serving everyone.
"Are you okay?" Ilya asked as he handed a plate to Shane.
"Yeah," he replied, 'just questioning my entire childhood and adolescence', he added silently.
Ilya kissed Shane on the cheek, and Shane tried to calm the fluttering in his stomach.
Some time later, they were saying their goodbyes at the door of Ilya’s apartment. Rose had hitched a ride with Shane, and he was going to drive her home. She and Svetlana had exchanged contact information and were making plans for outings during the nights Sveta would be staying in Ottawa.
"It was a really good night."
"It was." Ilya smiled, cupping Shane’s face in his hands and pulling him in for a kiss. "Thanks for coming."
"Good night, Ilya."
"Good night, Shane."
With one last smile, Shane forced himself to leave. Rose sat in the passenger seat with a huge smile on her face, but Shane couldn't match it. His mind drifted back to the day he’d said goodbye to Ilya ten years ago.
They were lying in Shane’s bed, gazing at each other in silence, their fingers interlaced.
"I don't know what I'm going to do without you," Shane confessed.
"I wish I didn't have to go." Ilya reached out to wipe a tear from the corner of Shane’s eye before it could fall. "Hey... don't cry. You'll be okay; we'll be okay."
Shane nodded, forcing a smile.
"Say it to me," Ilya asked.
"Ya tebya lyublyu."
"Ya lyublyu tebya, and that will never change."
Ilya’s phone rang.
"I have to go; we're heading to the airport now... We'll be okay, right?"
"Okay," Shane nodded.
But they weren't okay; they didn't speak or see each other again until that night at the bookstore.
Without realizing it, Shane had already parked in front of Rose’s house.
"Baby, are you okay?"
"He said he loved me," Shane said softly.
"What? When?"
"Not today, but I only just realized it, he spent our entire adolescence telling me he loved me. How did I not notice?"
"I'm confused." Rose looked at him, her brow furrowed.
"Ilya always used to say that phrase in Russian to me, and I didn't know what it meant until today."
"So you found out it means..."
"Yes..." Shane shook his head, absorbing it all. "I love you," he finished.
ILYA
Ilya was alone. That had been one of the best nights of his life, and for the first time in a while, he felt good in his own mind. It might just be because of the date itself, but at that moment he truly believed he was beginning a new chapter in his life, and he felt the need to leave the past behind.
He went to his room and opened his sock drawer where he had hidden his old cell phone. He pressed the power button; if that feeling wasn't strong enough to help him overcome whatever was in those messages, nothing else would be.
There were at least 70 messages from Shane. Only the first two had been read, and Ilya knew this because he had read them himself before handing the phone to his father.
A weight had been lifted from his shoulders. His father had never read the contents of the messages, but he had kept them.
Ilya took a deep breath and opened the chat.
August 18, 2008
Have a good trip, don't forget to let me know when you land. I miss you already.
August 19, 2008
I think you must have slept, how was the flight? I miss you.
August 20, 2008
I'm worried about you, please text me so I know everything is okay.
August 21, 2008
I'm starting to think you're ignoring me. No, that's ridiculous, we're fine, aren't we?
August 22, 2008
Ilya???
August 23, 2008
Can you talk to me, please?
August 24, 2008
Ilya, please, I'm worried.
August 25, 2008
Can you have the decency to tell me what happened?
August 26, 2008
You know what? Go fuck yourself!
August 27, 2008
I'm sorry, buddy, just tell me you're okay.
August 28, 2008
Please, Ilya
August 29, 2008
I don't know what I did
Augusto 30, 2008
Please, tell me where I went wrong, I can fix it.
August 31, 2008
I miss you so much :(
September 01, 2008
Have a good first day at school.
September 02, 2008
Did you like the new school?
September 03, 2008 Did you make any new friends?
September 04, 2008
I wish you were here.
September 05, 2008
</3
September 06, 2008
???
September 07, 2008
What are you doing?
September 08, 2008
I haven't made any friends at school yet.
September 09, 2008
I miss you like... every day.
September 10, 2008
I hope you are well.
September 11, 2008
Just say something.
September 12, 2008
Anything.
September 13, 2008
Please.
September 14, 2008
Ask me to stop then.
September 15, 2008
I'll leave you alone If that's what you want.
September 16, 2008
Just ask me to stop, please.
September 17, 2008
I promise I won't bother you again. Just let me know you're okay.
September 18, 2008
It's been a month.
September 19, 2008
I miss you so much.
September 20, 2008
I really don't know what I did.
September 21, 2008
Just say you're not dead.
September 22, 2008
Tell me you hate me.
September 23, 2008
Tell me you don't want to be friends anymore, I can take it.
September 24, 2008
FUCK YOU.
September 25, 2008
That's not fair.
September 26, 2008
I fucking hate you.
September 27, 2008
I don't know what to do.
September 28, 2008
Why are you doing this?
September 29, 2008
I don't really hate you.
September 30, 2008
What if you really are dead?
October 01, 2008
I have no one to talk to.
October 02, 2008
Ilya, you're my best friend.
October 03, 2008
Just say it, I know I can fix it.
October 04, 2008
You're alive?
October 05, 2008
That's all I need to know...
October 06, 2008
?????
October 07, 2008
Hey
October 08, 2008
I didn't go to school today.
October 09, 2008
Actually, I haven't gone for a few days.
October 10, 2008
I'm not sick, I just don't feel like it.
October 11, 2008
I think I'm going to stop texting you.
October 12, 2008
Could you just tell me if you're okay?
October 13, 2008
I'm trying to understand.
October 14, 2008
But you know, I don't remember doing anything.
October 15, 2008
I'm sorry, whatever it was.
October 16, 2008
Ilya?
October 17, 2008
You're my best friend. And I miss you.
October 18, 2008
I love you, dude.
"He loved me too," Ilya whispered to himself.
Shane had confessed this to him in that conversation after they reunited, but reading those words alongside the date broke Ilya's heart because of what he had lost so long ago.
How many times could he have said that to Shane and heard it back, without tricks, without words in a language Shane didn't understand?
October 31, 2008
Happy Halloween!
November 15, 2008
I miss you.
December 25, 2008
Merry Christmas, Ilya!
December 31, 2008
Hi
January 01, 2009
Happy New Year!
February 04, 2009
How are you?
May 10, 2009
How I miss you.
June 15, 2009
Happy birthday, Ilya.
July 27, 2009
I just wanted to know if you're okay.
August 11, 2009
I've been seeing a psychologist for a while now; he advised me not to send any more messages.
August 12, 2009
I wish I could.
August 16, 2009
I can do it.
August 17, 2009
I can do it.
August 21, 2009
Have a good life, Ilya. Bye.
Reading Shane’s goodbye message twisted something deep inside Ilya.
He wiped away the tears that kept spilling onto his cheeks; Shane had left nearly an hour ago, but perhaps he was still awake.
Ilya needed to see him again. He needed to touch him and feel that he was okay.
He gave Anya a quick pet before heading out and rushed down the stairs as fast as he could. As he stepped out the building's front door, Ilya froze, Shane had just parked his car and was walking toward him.
“Where are you going?”
"I was on my way to your place," Ilya confessed.
"I couldn't sleep."
"Me neither." Ilya smiled faintly. "Do you want to come inside?"
Shane nodded.
Ilya braced himself on the walk back to his apartment; he was ready to pour out an apology the moment the door closed behind them.
He never got the chance, though, the instant they stepped inside, Shane threw himself at him. His fingers tangled in Ilya’s hair, and Shane’s tongue pressed against his with a desperate intensity.
“Is everything okay?”
"Yeah, I just need you," Shane breathed against his mouth. "I want you so much."
“I want you too.” Ilya’s fingers traced the freckles on Shane’s face, which were flushed pink from the climb up the stairs. "More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life."
“Then take me,” Shane sighed. "Make me yours."
Ilya simply nodded, unable to speak. He pulled Shane by the hand toward his bedroom; they had barely crossed the threshold before their lips met again. Two more steps backward brought the backs of Shane’s legs against the bed, but instead of lying down, he began to undress Ilya.
His hands slid over the bare torso, caressing and scratching at the same time, while his lips traced a path of kisses down the abdomen until they found the zipper of his trousers.
Ilya hurriedly stripped Shane’s clothes off as well. He had dreamed of this countless times, yet reality was even better.
His lips moved over Shane’s smooth chest; Ilya couldn't resist the urge to bite his nipples. Shane writhed in response, soft moans escaping his lips, it was the most pleasurable torture he had ever experienced.
Before Ilya could go any further, Shane dropped to his knees, grabbing Ilya’s cock and taking it into his mouth.
"Fuck, is that what you needed?"
Shane moaned as he slid his tongue over the head. His eyes locked onto Ilya’s, stealing his breath and any shred of self-control. Shane could have asked for anything in that position and Ilya would have granted it; he would have burned the world down if necessary.
He began taking Ilya deeper; his eyes squeezed shut as he met resistance in Shane’s throat.
"Oh my God."
Shane repeated the motion effortlessly, and the thought of how easily he handled it did nothing to curb Ilya’s urge to fuck Shane’s face right then and there.
"Stop," Ilya said, pulling his penis out of Shane’s mouth; he was dangerously close to cumming, and they hadn't even moved past foreplay yet. Shane nearly toppled forward, trying to follow him.
Ilya grabbed Shane’s chin with one hand and pulled him up until he was standing again.
"Is this what you want?" He slid his lips to Shane’s ear. "Do you want my cock?"
"Yes, please," Shane breathed.
"So polite," Ilya smiled, biting Shane’s earlobe. "Do you want it inside you?"
"Please."
"Turn around."
Shane immediately turned his back. Ilya was more aroused than he had ever been; he decided to test the limits of all that obedience, holding his hand out at the level of Shane’s face.
"Spit."
Shane spat.
"Bend over."
Shane let his torso slide down, dropping to all fours, completely exposed to Ilya.
"You're perfect," Ilya said before burying his face in Shane’s ass. With a hand slick with saliva, he slid over Shane’s cock, masturbating him.
"Oh my God," Shane exclaimed, making a superhuman effort not to thrash against the heat of Ilya’s tongue on his hole. "That feels fucking amazing."
Ilya licked and pressed until desperation took hold of Shane and he began to tremble. He let his tongue slide along the perineum and sucked on Shane’s balls while slowly jerking him off.
He tasted so good and behaved so well that Ilya had no desire to stop; he could spend the whole night just pleasuring Shane, even as his own penis dripped with pre-cum.
"Please, fuck me," he begged.
"I haven't prepared you for me yet."
"I don't want your fingers; I want your cock." Shane looked back over his shoulder, his eyes clouded with desire.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, just fuck me, please."
Ilya reached toward the nightstand while tracing circles around Shane’s hole with his thumb. He held a condom between his teeth as he grabbed the lube.
He put the condom on as quickly as he could and then lubed up his cock.
"If I hurt you, tell me and I’ll stop immediately, okay?"
"Okay, just get inside me, please."
Ilya would have laughed at how desperate Shane was if he weren't dying himself just thinking about what it would be like to be inside him.
He began pressing his cock against the opening; Shane was so tight and so hot.
Ilya slid in slowly, feeling Shane tense up beneath him.
"Is it okay?"
"Keep going," he groaned.
It didn't take long for Ilya to be fully inside; the sensation of Shane’s body adjusting to his cock was maddening, and Ilya took a deep breath to keep from fucking him right away.
He leaned over Shane’s back, kissing his shoulders.
"Fuck me" the whisper was music to his ears, and he began to move.
Shane groaned and gasped, arching his back further and further.
"I wish you could see yourself." Ilya squeezed one of Shane’s buttocks. "You take it so easily; you love this, don't you? It feels so fucking good."
"Yes."
"And you're all mine." Ilya sighed, biting Shane’s back and tasting the salt on his skin.
"Ilya" hearing Shane moan his name, he couldn't help but speed up his movements. His hand slapped Shane’s ass as if it had a mind of its own.
"Say my name," he groaned, losing control. "Say it again."
"Fuck, Ilya."
Ilya smacked his ass a little harder this time.
"Oh, God, I’m gonna cum..." Shane gasped.
Ilya fucked him hard, the contractions of Shane’s ass against his cock driving him to his own orgasm.
He kissed Shane’s back gently as he slowly withdrew from him.
"I'll be right back."
"Okay." Shane rolled onto his side.
When Ilya returned from the bathroom, Shane was still lying there, staring at the ceiling. Ilya lay down beside him.
"I think I got your sheets dirty," he said with a soft laugh.
"Who cares?" Ilya kissed him gently. "That was..."
"Fast."
Ilya laughed.
"I was going to say good, but... yeah, that too."
"Sorry, it had been a while."
"Me too," Ilya confessed. "But that was just the first time; we’ve got the rest of our lives to top it."
"Hey."
"Yeah?"
"You said you were on your way to my place."
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"I needed to see you," was all Ilya could say.
Shane kissed him. "I'm going to take a shower."
"Okay."
Ilya stripped off the soiled sheet and replaced it with the first clean one he found in the closet. Then he flopped back onto the bed and let his eyes close; he felt Shane curl up against him and hugged him back.
"So, are you my boyfriend now?" he whispered against Shane's temple.
"Yeah, I am," Shane whispered back in the dark.
Somewhere in the back of his mind, just before sleep claimed him, Ilya wondered if his neighbors had heard it all. Screw 'em,
he thought, let them hear. Let everyone know that Shane belonged to him.