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Usually, a bad game—a shutout, an awful count of penalty minutes at the end of a game, a bad score—doesn’t affect Shane that badly. Sure, he gets upset about it, goes home, and sulks in the darkness of his bedroom to be in the dark until he falls asleep, but that was before he got more involved with Ilya.
That was before the thought of one of them having to make a two-hour drive after Ilya signed with Ottawa, before they clarified what they were completely, got outed, got married to Ilya, and signed with Ottawa to play together.
He had this thing for a while, something he learned from being too wired up one night and really just wanting to find something to cope with the stress at the time & the internet fell him into a rabbit hole of a coping mechanism called age regression.
The stress of hiding a relationship with his rival for so long, pressure given by the media & netizens, and the things that came with being a star athlete all contributed to why this was the good option to do rather than fall on any bad habits.
The headspace truly made everything better. It calmed the itch under his skin, the hot flashes, the tightness in his chest, the rotten words in his brain—all of it. In reality, he could've picked up journaling, but he considered this to be something that could truly help.
He was truly scared how Ilya would react, what he would think. Shane always was on edge when he was alone, hoping he wouldn’t ever show this side to Ilya because how could he explain to Ilya why he did this without being laughed in his face?
He began hiding it and doing it only when Ilya wasn’t around, which was difficult as they were literally married & lived together, and even then he was constantly on edge and didn’t feel 100% stress free, always waiting for Ilya to surprise him by coming home early & seeing it by accident.
Ilya did see it for the first time as an accident, a careless accident on Shane’s part. He told him he would be out for a few hours, running errands he knew Shane would complain about because he couldn't pick out what he wanted fast enough.
In some ways, Shane was glad to be alone when he could. He always missed Ilya when he left the house, but he really needed to ease the anxiety drumming under his skin. With him here, he couldn’t.
When he kisses him on the cheek with a promise to bring him possibly something nice as a snack, it makes him feel guilty for feeling happy about him leaving, but he really needed it today.
When his husband finally backed out of the driveway, he waited an additional thirty minutes for solid confirmation Ilya wouldn’t be coming back before beginning his journey. He headed to where he had hidden some of his things he usually used when he wanted to slip.
He pulled out his coloring books, his crayons (even his glitter ones; he was really excited for that when he had bought them) from the desk drawer pushed all the way in the back, his stuffed light blue elephant, and one of Ilya’s hoodies he had stolen that smelled faintly of his cologne and was really worn out (which made it so much comfier).
He went to the living room and spread his coloring book out on the coffee table with his back against the couch. Not only that, but he scrolled through everything he could find to watch as background noise and to watch and comprehend what was going on.
When he found what he wanted, he began going through his coloring books to find something to color. He picked a page with a penguin wearing a scarf and earmuffs in a fun & intentionally colorful background, the back being an under-the-sea page with sharks, jellyfish, fish, and some sea turtles.
He ripped out the page before getting to work, making sure his coloring books were set neatly by him on the floor as the movie played in the background and he began adding color to his page. His eyes constantly flicked up towards the screen and his page, sometimes getting distracted when an interesting part came up when he looked up.
He lost track of time when another movie was followed by many others, adding 4 more coloring pages back and forth to the mix—a dog in space, a cat hair salon, a pool party with so many animals, disco party with a tiger, leopard, and a few other animals, he can’t really remember the other pages.
He didn’t even realize Ilya was back until he heard footsteps close to him and he turned away from the screen and the man was blinking at him and Shane felt the prick in his chest he hated and the floating in his brain fall.
Ilya was home early, Shane concluded in his brain. He thought Ilya would take longer, get distracted by some store on the way to another errand, run into a fellow teammate at the store and start chatting, that he would hit every red light, that he would want something to drink.
Guess not now.
Shane swallows and looks down at the elephant Ilya shifted his eyes towards with a raised brow and a confused expression. He wished he was less carried away with the stupid movies he wanted to watch, how fixated he was on staying in the lines to not realize Ilya’s presence standing there earlier.
When Shane explained, he felt awkward and anxious, fidgeting with whatever he could, feeling on edge and scared about possibly what Ilya could react and say to him when he explained. Thankfully, he didn’t say much that warranted any excess anxiety, only that he seemed trying to understand.
That alone made Shane want to cry at how his husband always tried to be understanding of the things he does that he’s always convinced himself that no one would understand because no one did when he was younger.
Shane showed him some better explanations online after he explained personally, some in Russian so he could understand the concept a tad better than English explanations.
Ilya nodded when he finally thought he might have understood it after reading in silence in what felt like forever, even offering to help when he could even if he would still be learning, and that alone made Shane’s heart soar.
Now, months after being caught by Ilya, Shane just wants to drop and be taken care of by his husband, but he can’t—not right now.
He’s still at the arena, still in the stuffy locker room with his pissed off teammates and an Ilya that doesn’t seem wanting to deal with his thing right now because he’s also pissed at the game’s outcome.
He takes off the rest of his gear to sit in his bag, trying to hide the tremble in his hands with his husband right next to him, but of course, Ilya knows Shane like the back of his hand and catches on to his trembles in tiny glares as he put his shoes on.
He makes a feather touch to his arm, rubbing the subtle freckles on his arms to let him silently know he cares for him which makes his headspace just swim deeper and also eases the thoughts in his head about Ilya not wanting to deal with his headspace tonight.
It takes a bit longer for Shane to take his gear off than normal, but Ilya just waits patiently, saying his goodbyes to the teammates leaving and letting the silence become more pronounced as he finishes.
Finally, when he gets his last thing off, he changes into his regular clothes. He hopes that maybe he can take a shower or even a bath before he drops, but for a night like this, he doesn’t know how the rest of the night will go.
He drapes his duffle bag over his shoulder and lets Ilya guide him to the car, his limbs on fire and his body ready to slump into the comfort of the sheets and sleep until his body can’t rest anymore.
The ride home is quiet besides the small sound from the radio, Ilya makes really no effort to mess with it, knowing how tired Shane is and honestly how he doesn’t think it’s the mood.
When they finally get home, relief flattens in his chest like a balloon releasing air.
The Russian still helps Shane to the door, opening it, taking his gear to be dealt with tomorrow, helping him with his shoes and helping him upstairs even when he whines that his legs burn with every step he takes.
They make it to their bedroom and Shane just wants to drop already, but also this itch in his throat that is identical when he feels like he will sob also climbs its way up to be known and it seems Ilya already knew when he blinks and everything gets blurry and doubled.
“Sweetheart? What’s wrong?” Ilya’s kind voice finally breaks the silence as he comes back with some night clothes for Shane, and that’s what breaks him.
He isn’t sure why that does, or why he’s even crying in the first place, but all he feels is a dip in the bed and he’s pulled into his lap and pulled close to his chest as his voice soothes the cries coming out of his husband.
He isn’t sure how he could even get a reason out of Shane on why he was crying, but he also knew Shane better than himself, so it wasn’t surprising that the reason could’ve been the game or he hasn’t dropped in a while.
“It’s okay, sweetheart. Just breathe and let it all out,” Ilya whispered, followed by some comforting words that Shane could only decipher a few of before giving up due to his brain fogging up and dropping deeper and a gentle hand in his hair (that was too long in his opinion), playing with the strands to help.
By the time he was done crying, he was slumped with his entire being towards Ilya’s chest, his elephant (that Ilya told him to name Blueberry, for some reason after taking care of him a few times after he found out. Said it would be a ‘cool’ name) somehow squished between him and Ilya, but he was always sneaky like that in a good way.
“Bath or do you want to wait until tomorrow?” Ilya spoke into the almost silent room besides Shane’s small sniffles and his moving feet from the remaining anxiety in his legs. Right now, Shane was comfortable and better here than the bathroom with blinding lights and annoying scents that would only make him want to burn his possibility to smell again.
But, the hot water would feel nice on his bad knees, his back, his bones in general. Maybe he can see if Ilya will just find the lightly smelling body washes, to just lower a bigger inconvenience of his sensory overload.
“Bath, please.” His voice is small and hesitant, but Ilya nods, letting Shane set Blueberry on his side before picking him up bridal style to the bathroom, drawing a warm bath. “Is it—Is it possible we can use the lighter smelling things..?”
“‘Course, love. Thank you for telling me,” Ilya said gently, going into the small cabinet to grab it after the last bath left Shane feeling sick and upset with too many smells at once where he was sitting in the tub, and Ilya—poor Ilya—panicking at what he did wrong to upset him when it wasn’t his fault at all and even told him that when he explained.
When the bath was filled well enough, Ilya helped Shane out of his clothes and into the warm water that already set a nice burn to his aching joints, letting himself drift down until his shoulders.
“I’m going to change really fast, okay? I’ll be right back,” Ilya told him before he gently pecked the other’s cheek, rushing to the attached bedroom to change into clean sweats and a tee, worrying about showering after his husband was well taken care of.
The bath helped Shane calm a lot, the other could tell. His eyes began to grow heavier as the warmth settled into his bones & he seemed calmer. His eyes sparkled when he met eyes with Ilya, and he giggled when the water would go down his back, saying it tickles.
Ilya likes Shane the best when the anxiety is away from him and he’s in a headspace where all he worries about is coloring in the lines and if the Toy Story crew will save the passengers on trains, where he seems genuinely at peace instead of feeling like he is being driven up a wall 24/7.
After his bath, with a whine from Shane that he is getting all pruned, Ilya dries him in a warm, fluffy towel with a hood. He velcroes it after he deems Shane dry enough and takes him to the sink to help wash his face and brush their teeth. Small sleepy giggles in the almost silence of water and scrubbing of teeth due to Ilya’s actions.
“Alright, let’s get dressed and then we can go to sleep, hm?” Ilya takes a still giggly Shane about Ilya’s mistake of putting toothpaste on his nose by accident into the bedroom, pulling out boxers and basketball shorts from his side of their shared dresser, then a tee from Ilya’s side.
He helps him dress then directs him onto his side of the bed, getting under the covers with his elephant and a navy blue blanket with yellow stars that Ilya got him a few weeks ago, the tv loading to their rows of subscribed apps for different choices, but he always knew his Shane would pick Toy Story.
Shane cuddled close to Ilya after he finished getting ready for sleep himself, squishing his elephant between them and his blanket, mostly covering Shane more than Ilya.
“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you,” Ilya whispered when he realized Shane had begun to slowly blink at the tv from the weight of sleep on his eyelids as Ilya began to play with his damp hair.
“Lov’ you too,” Shane whispered, curling more into Ilya’s chest and falling asleep to the background noise of Toy Story and Ilya’s lingering cologne.