Ilya nodded. There. Now someone knew.
“He must be proud of you, though? You’re a superstar!”
Ilya almost laughed at that. “He did not want me to leave. Wanted me to stay in Russia.”
Neither man said anything for a while.
“I love my country,” Ilya said. “But I could not stay there.”
“Would have mademylife a lot easier,” Shane joked.
They both laughed. Shane shook his head and looked at the ceiling. And Ilya just...stared at him. At this oddly insecure superstar who was so beautiful and sweet andhere.
“You look really fucking good,” Ilya said.
Shane stood and placed his ginger ale on the dresser next to Ilya’s abandoned Coke. He sank to the floor, straddling Ilya’s outstretched legs.
“Hey,” Shane said softly.
Ilya gave in and reached for him. As soon as he had Shane in his arms, he was done for. He leaned forward and took his mouth. It felt different this time, as he wrapped his arms around Shane’s back and pulled him close against his body. Shane’s hands cradled Ilya’s face as he kissed him with the force of everything they had almost said out loud.
It was late and Shane knew he needed to go back to his own room, but he was in bed with Ilya. Not just in bed, butcuddled together, with Ilya gently stroking his hair. Shane was rolling Ilya’s crucifix between his thumb and his finger.
“Are you religious?” Shane asked. “Or do you just wear this?”
“I don’t go to church anymore.”
“But you believe in God?”
“Yes. I think so.”
Shane didn’t reply. He just considered this information.
“You think that is silly?” Ilya asked.
“No! No, I’m just surprised, I guess.”
Ilya laughed softly.
“What?” Shane asked.
“You don’t believe in God, but you believe if you put right skate on before left you will play a terrible game.”
Shane shook his head and smiled. “That’s different. That’s science.”
Ilya snorted and kissed the top of his head. “It was my mother’s.”
“Oh.” He stopped twirling the cross and rested it gently against Ilya’s chest. “Do you want to talk about...anything? Your family?”
“No,” Ilya said. “Not tonight.”
“You can, though, you know. Talk to me.”
For a moment, Ilya was very still. “Thank you,” he said.
Shane wondered if Ilya felt it too. The heaviness of the aftermath of their encounters. The impossibility of everything. Shane felt it every time. The whole point of their hookups was to provide release, but Shane only felt more tangled up each time.
“I should probably go,” Shane said.
