Chapter Text
“Sorry... just sold the last of it." Ilya lies through his teeth into the phone, He never ever did this to any of his customers. He didn’t know why he did this to Shane, he didn’t know why he gave a fuck.
They met through Svetlana in the first year of college, they never dated but they did get so fucking close. Both sides were too scared, and Ilya was just too closed off. What they did do, was fuck every now and then and sometimes when Shane was drugged out of his mind Ilya would keep him sleeping in his bed just to look at his pretty face.
When it got too close, they fought and hit and hurt each other. But that’s not what was the last straw for Ilya, the last straw was Shane looking up at him with red eyes mumbling how he liked him after Ilya had fucked him.
Ilya felt like an asshole, even worse, he felt in love.
So now, he wasn’t going to sell to Shane anymore. It was bad for business anyways, he always gave to Shane for free or in exchange for a quick fuck.
He also may have gotten a few of his friends to blacklist Shane.
"Sober is better anyways." Ilya says nonchalantly, trying to act like he doesn’t care. Like this isn’t all so fucked up.
“Are you deadass Ilya are you fucking serious right now?”
Shane spits into the phone speaker, tears in his eyes.
“Yes Hollander, I told you is sold out?”
“Oh fuck you fuck you dick! Why the fuck not?!” Ilya can hear Shane’s panic, the desperation in his voice.
“Is. Sold. Out. What you want me to be scientist for you Hollander?”
“Fuck yourself rozanov, get that? Fuck yourself, I hope you fucking die.” Shane practically yells into the speaker before slamming the call closed.
It’s not that Ilya expected any different, but maybe it stung a bit. It wasn’t their first fight, not even their worst fight. He’d lost blood to Hollander, but this one stung worse. Was it because it was over, whatever this fucked up mess was, or was it because Ilya knows no matter what he does he can never get Shane’s face out of his head. Even after Shane told him to, for lack of better words, kill himself.
—————————Shane——————————
Shane couldn’t find another guy to buy from, everyone else was too expensive, too far, too risky, blah blah blah.
The real reason, the one Shane didn’t wanna admit was that he didn’t want to lose Ilya. He didn’t want to go looking for another guy to get high with and to fuck for drugs. He wants Ilya. So he’ll keep making excuses on how they’re too expensive or they’re too dangerous like Ilya is any safer.
Now after he hung up on Ilya he immediately smoked the rest that he had, he didn’t know if he was trying to get over not having the drugs anymore or not having Ilya. Maybe he should’ve rationed, and Shane before all this would’ve agreed but right now he wanted to just go numb.
He wakes up the day later, he remembers vaguely just staying in his room wallowing in his own pity puddle until he eventually slept very late at night. Because despite having nothing better to do his mind wanted to stay up till his body shut itself off.
Now Shane sat in said pity puddle fully sober and with a raging headache from the insane dehydration and starving he was going through with the drugs messing up his appetite. Something he had grown accustomed to, but it was not easy to shake off the migraines no matter how many times he had them.
He opened his phone, lazily and almost regretfully like he didn’t even want to see what was on it. It felt like a chore just to open the messages and missed calls. He sees the missed calls from his parents and huffs, he didn’t need that right now. He sees the messages from his friends, his helpful mind assisted him with some hateful jabs against them which Shane shook away.
He was depressed and sad, yes, but he wouldn’t let himself lose his freinds because of it. He would just become more and more distant, and they probably wouldn’t notice.
It was a weekend, no college. He didn’t want care, it wasn’t like he had any plans. He would usually just go to Ilyas, or like go to the gym maybe take a walk. It felt so empty without Ilya, Shane didn’t want to go to the gym. He kicked the gym bag near his bed and groaned, he wanted to cry but the tears weren’t there.
It felt like a breakup, but he couldn’t say it was one. It wasn’t one, it was just his dealer said he wasn’t gonna deal anymore. Why did it feel like he just got served divorce papers?
Shane decided to finally get up, shower, go to the gym and continue his day like usual. Though the entire time, his mind was just numbly thinking about Ilya and partially about how shit it all was. The music in his ear during his workout was too much, the thoughts in his head too loud to handle anything else. He quickly switched it for white noise, wishing he could pop a pill and go about his day but then he remembered his fucking dealer hates him which just made the whole thing worse.
Shane finished his workout and stopped by the diet restaurant by the gym, he looked at the food in trays behind the glass and his stomach churned. He quickly left, he would just eat later then.
The rest of the day went by in a very slow fog, it was like he was just floating in his head and the seconds felt like minutes.
When he finally got ready for bed, he looked at the time. Just 9:46. It was too early to sleep, it was a weekend for christs sake, he should be out.. out getting high.. at Ilyas..
Shane rubbed his eyes, trying to ignore the tears. He just sighed and draped the cover over his head and his mind raced on the same topic as if overthinking it would somehow make Ilya appear in his dorm with a bottle of adderal and some molly.
When Shane woke up, the next day in a depressing fashion, he opened his phone quickly clicking to his dms with Ilya.
He read through them for any hint to why Ilya would do this, but nothing is showing.
He decides by the end of it he needs to get drunk, or high, or fucked. Whatever it was he needed Ilya off his mind.
So that’s what Shane did, bought some cheap beer and got drunk enough to forget and then took a nap into the night.
When he woke up, now instead of what was planned in which he was supposed to have gotten over Ilya he felt the opposite.
He quickly clicked on Ilyas number and called him, called him and called him and with every “phone busy” Shane’s eyes got more and more blurry. He didn’t know why this was happening it’s not fair. Fuck him, why did Ilya hate him.
