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Ilya sat shell-shocked and frozen on the sofa, his arm still outstretched towards the empty space his lover had occupied a moment ago.
How had things gone so wrong, so quickly? Their combined cum was still wetly pooling on his stomach, for fuck’s sake.
They had been having such a nice time together, laughing and snuggling. Shane initiated the sex. He took charge and took what he wanted. Was saying Shane's name really that big of a deal? Clearly, it was.
He really should know better. This is what happened when he let his guard down. People just hurt him and then left him. He closed his eyes to stop the tears already gathered there from falling.
He heard Shane, no Hollander, rustling around in the foyer near the front door and could do nothing but sit and listen to Shane leave him, probably for good this time.
Then he heard a gasping, wheezing breath and he was off the couch before he even thought about it. He felt the cold, sticky cum starting to drip down and quickly grabbed one of the napkins to wipe it off.
In the minute it took Ilya to get to the front hallway, Shane's breaths were coming faster and louder. He was kneeling on the floor on one knee, trying to tie his shoe, but his eyes were squeezed shut and his hands were shaking too much to be effective.
Over the many years they'd been hooking up, Ilya had seen Shane anxious and even mildly panicky a few times, but he'd never seen Shane in a full blown panic attack like this.
He wasn't 100% sure what to do here, so he approached slowly, but made a bit of noise, so Shane heard him coming and wasn't surprised. Once he was a foot or so away, Ilya slowly crouched near Shane. He instinctively knew not to touch Shane in this state, so he spoke quietly and calmly.
“Hollander…”
“I have to go,” Shane said quickly. “I have to, I have to get out of here. I can't…”
“I know you're upset,” Ilya said, shoving his own heartbreak down deep, “but you can't go out like this. I don't think it would be safe.”
“But I have to!” Shane sounded miserable. “I'm being horrible to you and can't stay and make it worse. You need me to go.”
“I need you to breathe, dorogoy, that's all. Can you do that? For me?” Ilya pleaded. It was twisting his guts to see Shane in this state of distress, regardless of how upset he himself was.
The only answer from Shane was a sob. He hunched even more into himself, if that was even possible.
Ilya felt an overwhelming urge to hold Shane and make him feel how much he cared. It was breaking his heart to watch Shane, his fierce and headstrong…. whatever he was, completely fall apart like this.
“Hollander, can I touch you? I think it will help,” Ilya asked, as gently as he could manage.
“Why are you being so nice to me?” Shane practically wailed. “You must hate me right now.”
“I don't think I could ever hate you,” Ilya said, with more honesty than he intended. “I just want to help.” And then added something he'd never allowed himself before, “Please, Shane.”
Shane shuddered at his name and Ilya thought he'd fucked it up completely, but then Shane unfolded and lunged towards him, wrapping his arms around Ilya's chest and burying his face in Ilya's neck.
Ilya pulled Shane in tight and gave into the impulse to gently kiss the top of Shane's head. He began making shushing sounds and rubbed up and down Shane's back. He spoke quietly in Russian, letting himself say all the loving things he'd been holding in for years now.
He deliberately started taking big, loud breaths in the hopes that Shane would follow along. It took a few minutes of gasping, but eventually Shane's breathing started to level out and his shaking subsided.
Ilya had no idea how long they'd been huddled together and his ass was practically numb from sitting on the hard floor for so long, but he would stay here for hours if that's what Shane needed.
After a few minutes of more normal breathing, Shane mumbled “Sorry” into Ilya's shoulder. Ilya loosened his arms, giving Shane the choice to pull apart, but he didn't.
“I'm so sorry,” Shane muttered. “For running out on you and then for making you deal with my freak out.”
Ilya wasn't sure what to say, so he just made a humming sound. It wasn't really okay and Shane had really hurt him, so he wasn't going to brush it off. But he wasn't going to get mad and make Shane panic again, or worse, actually leave. He could be patient and let Shane say or do what he needed to. Which was, apparently, to explain himself. Ilya suspected Shane would have a much easier time without having to make eye contact, so he stayed where he was, resting his cheek on the top of Shane's head.
“I'm so confused,” Shane said quietly. “Everything about today has been…different. Asking me to stay, making me food, hanging out on the sofa. None of that ever happens with us.”
Ilya had been so wrapped up in his own head, eagerly planning every step of this day to make sure Shane would stay, that he hadn't really thought of it that way from Shane's perspective.
“It's like all the rules of the game changed and no one told me,” Shane admitted. “And I don't always deal with change that well.”
Not addressing what Ilya was thinking or planning had been intentional. It was to not scare Shane off, but now he could see that he had blindsided Shane. Suddenly, everything that happened made more sense to him.
“I'm sorry,” Ilya said, squeezing Shane. “I wasn't being fair or honest.”
Shane hugged him back briefly, then slackened his hold on Ilya. He sniffed hard and Ilya realized what a mess Shane was.
“Why don't we get off the cold floor and you go clean up in the bathroom?” he suggested. “Then maybe I think we need to talk?”
“Yeah, okay,” Shane agreed with a nod, still not really making eye contact, but not letting go either.
Ilya got to his feet and helped pull Shane up. Shane headed down the hallway to the en suite. Ilya closed his eyes, took a deep breath, then turned and followed so he could grab a t-shirt. If they were really going to talk, he’d felt like he should be dressed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Ilya sat down on the sofa again, perched on the edge because he couldn’t relax. When Shane didn’t emerge within a minute or two, Ilya stood. He paced back and forth a couple of times, then headed to the kitchen for something to drink. Anything to occupy himself while waiting for a conversation that could change everything.
By the time Shane returned to the living room, he looked better. His eyes were still red-rimmed, but color had returned to his cheeks and he was able to meet Ilya's eyes as he sat next to him on the sofa.
“I thought you might be thirsty, so I got you a ginger ale and some water,” Ilya said, gesturing towards the coffee table.
“Thank you,” Shane replied, before reaching out and taking a sip of the ginger ale.
“I really am sorry for how I ran out like that,” Shane apologized again. “I think I got overwhelmed and just had to get some space, you know?”
Ilya didn't really know, but he knew Shane well enough to understand.
“I'm sorry for not being clear about what I was thinking,” Ilya said. “I didn't mean to confuse you or scare you.”
“Can you…I mean, will you? Explain?” Shane asked. “Am I wrong that everything feels different this time?”
“No, you're not wrong,” Ilya reassured him. He took a deep breath for what was going to come next. Being open and honest did not come easily to him, but he cared about Shane enough to try.
“I really love the time we spend together,” Ilya started, “but it never feels like…enough. Like, we don't get to see each other very often, and when we do, it's always a rush. We never have enough time together.”
Ilya risked looking up at Shane and found him staring at Ilya, his face full of wonder and surprise. Huh, maybe this honesty thing wasn't going to go horribly wrong after all, he thought.
“Our schedules worked out, for once, to have more time than usual, so I was hoping to make the best of it,” Ilya continued with a shrug.
He paused and wondered if he really was going to flay himself open to this degree. Apparently, he was.
“I tried to think of everything I could to make you comfortable, so that you would stay with me,” he admitted, dropping his eyes to his lap, overwhelmed with the unusual openness.
It was silent for a moment, then Shane reached over and took Ilya's hand. When Ilya's gaze stayed lowered, Shane squeezed Ilya's hand until he looked up.
“Thank you,” Shane said simply. Ilya wasn't sure if he was saying thank you for the confession or for what he was confessing to.
“For a while, at the beginning, I think I was expecting more. Or wishing for more,” Shane explained. “But you made it really clear that you didn't want anything more than just hooking up.”
Ilya's face fell. He couldn't argue that it wasn't true, but it was obvious from Shane's expression that it had hurt him more than Shane had ever let on.
“Or maybe that it couldn't be any more than that,” Shane speculated, giving Ilya the benefit of the doubt that he probably didn't deserve.
“I came to terms with it a long time ago,” Shane tried to reassure Ilya. “I knew what to expect and appreciated the time we had together for what it was. I really didn't expect anything more than what we've been doing, and that was okay.”
Ilya was glad that Shane hadn't been upset about the state of their… situationship?, but it didn't make him feel a whole lot better.
“I'm sorry,” Ilya felt compelled to say again. “I think I knew at the beginning that you wanted more, but it was just impossible, you know?” Ilya asked, hoping Shane would understand. He apparently did, because he nodded in agreement.
“Is still impossible, yes?” Ilya asked and Shane nodded sadly. “But…that doesn't seem to matter when it comes to you.”
The direct honesty seemed to take Shane by surprise. He studied Ilya's face intently, looking him deep in the eyes. Ilya wasn't sure what Shane was looking for, but his face softened and his eyes filled with moisture.
“Do you really mean that?” Shane asked in quiet wonder.
Ilya's skin was practically itching from making himself so vulnerable. This conversation was so far out of his emotional comfort zone. But Shane almost walking away from him had shaken loose feelings he'd been trying to fight off and ignore for years now. Suddenly, losing Shane was a hell of a lot scarier than being honest.
So he took the plunge.
“I've never been able to stay away from you, no matter how impossible it was,” he stated with conviction. “And I don't want to anymore.”
Shane was looking at him with more unguarded affection and fondness than Ilya had seen since the night he and Shane had had penetrative sex for the first time. He realized then how much feeling Shane had also been masking for all these years. It took his breath away.
“Me neither. Ilya” Shane added with a shy smile. Ilya's name had never sounded sweeter.
Ilya had no choice but to caress Shane's cheek and pull him in for a kiss that he poured his entire heart into. They kissed for a long time, gentle and devoted in a way they had never allowed themselves before.
When they finally came up for air, Shane ran his fingers through Ilya's curls and gazed into his eyes.
“I know it's still impossible,” Shane murmured, “ but I don't care. I never want to give you up.”
“I couldn't give you up, either, even if I wanted to,” Ilya agreed, “which I don't.”
“I love you, Ilya,” Shane whispered against his lips and Ilya's heart stopped. It had been a very, very long time since someone Ilya cared about had said those precious words to him.
“Ya tebya lyublyu,” Ilya gushed out, hoping Shane understood his heart, if not his words. Apparently, he had, given the tender and emotional kiss Shane gave him.
Today had not turned out at all how Ilya had hoped. Instead, it was a million times better and nothing was going to be the same again. He couldn't wait.