Ilya woke up alone.
He grumbled softly, reaching out his hand for Shane, but when he opened his eyes, Shane's side of the bed was already neatly made, with Shane nowhere to be found.
He was starting to panic a little, wondering if Shane had left him alone at the cottage, when finally, he heard soft noises from the kitchen and noticed the smell of food in the air.
Smiling fondly to himself, he quietly made his way to the kitchen and watched Shane as he made breakfast.
"Good morning, moya lyubov," Ilya said after a while, trying the pet name out for the first time. It felt perfect.
Shane jumped at the sound of his voice, then relaxed as Ilya wrapped his arms around him from behind. "Fuck, you scared me," he grumbled.
"Come back to bed," Ilya whined, nuzzling into Shane's neck. "Why are you even up? I wasn't done with you."
"I thought you might be hungry, so I'm making breakfast."
Ilya kissed Shane's neck, grinning at the noise he made in response. "I'm hungry for you." But now that he thought about it, breakfast did sound really good. "What are you making?"
Shane got weirdly nervous at that. "Well, you ate all my macrobiotic food with me without complaint even though I know you hate it, so I wanted to eat one of your favorites with you, too."
Ilya's breath caught in his throat. "You made me tuna melts?"
Shane was saying something in response, but to Ilya, it sounded as if he was underwater.
***
And suddenly, Ilya was back on his couch in Boston, hand still outstretched, the taste of Shane's lips still on his own.
He should have known better. Of course this wasn't what Shane wanted. Whatever feelings Ilya thought were growing between them, Shane didn't feel the same—would never feel the same. He clearly just needed to explore this side of him that he usually repressed before he would go back to his boring, golden boy life and find someone nice to settle down with.
Ilya should have known better. But he really, really hadn't.
Fuck, he'd thought—he'd thought that maybe Shane wanted to be with him. Ilya could still feel Shane cuddling close to him, could hear him whispering Ilya's name like it was the answer to all his prayers—just a few seconds before he'd frozen and run away.
Ilya curled up on his couch, hugging his knees to his chest, and began to sob. He felt so, so alone.
Ilya.
He couldn't deny it anymore. He was in love with Shane, and now he had lost him—maybe forever. Sure, Shane might decide to fuck him again after games someday, but sooner or later, he would find a nice partner to settle down with, someone funny and kind and gentle. Someone he could love in the light.
Ilya, look at me.
He whimpered quietly as he curled more tightly into himself. He felt so pathetic, but he couldn't help it. He just wanted Shane back. He wished he could just turn back time to when Shane was still in his arms and never ask for more, just so he would get to hold him a little longer.
***
"Ilya."
Ilya found himself huddled on the kitchen floor. Shane was kneeling in front of him, gently rubbing his shoulder.
"Hey, there you are," Shane said, looking worried. "What happened?"
Ilya felt tears roll down his cheeks. "Shane," he croaked out, and launched himself into Shane's arms.
"I'm here," Shane whispered, over and over again, as Ilya sobbed. "It's okay, I'm here."
After what felt like hours, the tears finally stopped, and Ilya slumped against Shane, taking deep breaths to calm himself, until suddenly, Shane tried to get up.
"Don't go!" Ilya desperately grabbed Shane's wrist, the panic rising again.
Shane looked at him, confused. "I was just going to—" Ilya's desperation must have shown on his face, because Shane immediately sat back down. "Hey, it's alright. I'll stay."
Ilya leaned his head against Shane's shoulder. "Sorry," he whispered after a while.
Shane just shook his head and pulled him closer. "You don't have to apologize."
"But—" Ilya tried, but Shane stopped him immediately.
"No buts."
Ilya raised an eyebrow at him with a weak grin, and Shane huffed out a laugh. "Shut up."
They sat in silence for a while, Shane gently stroking Ilya's hair. "I am sorry," Ilya tried again when he finally felt like he could breathe properly again. "You made me breakfast and I," he gestured helplessly, "I freaked out."
"Can I ask what happened?" Shane asked softly. "Did I do something wrong?"
Ilya shook his head. "Was not your fault. The tuna melts…"
"What about them?" Shane's brows furrowed in confusion.
Ilya looked down, swallowing hard. "I smelled them, and I felt like I was back there. When… When you left me."
Ilya watched as Shane’s heart broke before his eyes.
"Ilya," Shane whispered, eyes shining with tears. "Fuck, Ilya, I'm so, so sorry."
"It was not your—" Ilya tried to soothe him, but Shane interrupted him immediately, eyes wide and frantic.
"It fucking was, though! You were so kind to me, and I just left you—"
"Shane."
"I should have thought this through, why did I—"
"Shane! Stop. Please."
At that, he slumped back against Ilya and sighed. "I'm sorry. It's just…" Shane rubbed the back of his neck. "I always regretted running out on you like that, but I didn't realize I hurt you so badly."
A part of Ilya wanted to deny it, to shrug it off and pretend like the look in Shane's eyes when he left didn't still haunt him. He swallowed hard. "It felt like… One minute I had you in my arms, and the next you were gone, and I did not know if you would ever come back or what I did wrong."
"You didn't do anything wrong," Shane promised, squeezing Ilya's hand tightly. "It was the opposite, actually. Cuddling on the couch with you, sleeping in your arms, even eating fucking tuna melts with you… It felt so right that it scared me. But I'm not scared anymore." He gently cupped Ilya's face in his hands. "You're never getting rid of me again." With the way Shane looked at him right now, a fond smile on his lips and hearts in his eyes, Ilya was actually starting to believe that. "I'm really sorry I ruined tuna melts for you, though."
"Is okay." Ilya smiled and pressed his lips to Shane's. "I found a new favorite taste."