Work Text:
Shane knew he was going to be late to his class.
He’d known it the second he got Ilya’s message last night at 10:30 p.m.
He had smiled like an idiot at his phone, already shaking his head at himself before he’d even finished reading it. And five minutes later, he was already on his way to Ilya’s dorm room.
It was now 8:50 a.m.
His class started in ten minutes, and he was still here.
Still pressed against Ilya’s bedroom wall, just a step away from the door, as if neither of them could fully bring themselves to put real distance between them.
Shane knew he was going to have to run if he wanted to make it, and even then, he wouldn’t be on time. At best, he’d still be at least five minutes late.
Ilya had his hands tangled in his hoodie, lips refusing to separate from Shane’s for more than half a second.
“You’re going to miss your class.” Ilya murmured, not moving, not helping.
“I know.” Shane breathed, but he wasn’t reaching for the handle either.
Every time he tried to pull away, Ilya kissed him again, softer, slower, like he had all morning to waste.
“Just go.” Ilya said, already leaning again.
Shane huffed a laugh against his mouth.
“You’re literally the problem.”
“Then stop kissing me back.”
He didn’t.
Instead, he leaned in again, like that somehow solved anything. Ilya’s hand slid from his hoodie to the back of his neck.
“This is your fault.” Shane muttered again, but it came out softer this time. Ilya smiled against his mouth.
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s true.”
“Mm.” Another kiss, soft and slow. “And yet, you’re still here.”
Shane let out a quiet breath and lifted his hand to Ilya’s shoulder, giving a light push that didn’t really move him.
“I have a test today.”
“Important?”
“Yes.”
Ilya tilted his head, looking at him for a second. “You’ll pass.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” A pause. “That's just how you are.”
Shane rolled his eyes, smiling fondly at Ilya as he reached up to brush his cheek.
“That’s not an argument.”
Ilya leaned in again, their noses brushing instead of a kiss.
“Stay five more minutes.”
“I said that ten minutes ago.”
“And you survived.”
“That’s not the point. You’re not helping here, Ilya.”
With a quiet sigh, Ilya’s hands slid away from his neck. He stepped back, taking two syrupy-slow steps that put a little space between them.
Shane hated how that felt worse.
“Door’s right there,” Ilya said quietly, nodding toward it.
Shane stared at him for a second longer than he meant to. The space between them suddenly felt too loud. Too empty.
“Yeah,” he said finally, voice rougher than he wanted it to be. “I know.”
He opened the door.
Cold hallway air slipped in immediately, breaking whatever warmth had been stuck between them.
He didn’t look back right away.
That was a rule he should’ve followed more often.
When he finally did, Ilya was still there, leaning against the wall like he had nowhere else to be.
“I’ll come back tonight,” he said, like it was casual. Shane hated how weak he sounded.
Ilya nodded. “You will.” Not a question.
Shane rolled his eyes, but there was no real bite to it. “Stop acting so sure.”
“I am sure.”
Shane huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head as he stepped out.
The door clicked shut behind him.
-
Shane pushed the classroom door open with a quiet breath he didn’t fully have yet, slipping inside like he could still be invisible.
He wasn’t.
The professor was already mid-sentence, a few heads turned, and Shane gave a quick, apologetic nod as he made his way down the aisle. His usual seat wasn’t far, thankfully, and he dropped into it with the kind of controlled calm that didn’t quite match how late he actually was. Next to him, Hayden immediately leaned in.
“Where were you?” he whispered, eyes narrowed in a way that wasn’t accusatory yet but was getting there. “You’re never late.”
Shane kept his gaze forward, like the board suddenly had all the answers to life.
“Lost track of time,” he said.
Hayden gave him a look. “That’s not an answer.”
“It is an answer.”
“It’s a fake answer.”
Shane finally glanced at him, expression flat in the most convincing way he could manage.
“I was studying.”
“At nine in the morning?”
“Very intensively.”
Hayden stared for a second longer, clearly not buying it, but the lecture shifted and he had to turn back around.
Still, he didn’t let it go completely.
“You’re weird today,” he muttered under his breath.
Shane didn’t respond. Because if he did, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t smile. He stared at the front of the room, but his mind was still somewhere else entirely.
Ilya above him, pressing him into the bed the second he’d stepped into his room the night before. The way he’d stripped him of every layer like there wasn’t a second to waste, like all he wanted was skin and contact and nothing in between.
Ilya had fucked him until Shane couldn’t think straight, couldn’t even remember his own name.
Shane blinked hard and shook his head, forcing himself to focus on the professor’s voice instead of the thoughts he definitely did not need right now.
His phone buzzed once in his pocket, but he didn’t check it.
He already knew.
-
By lunchtime, Shane had managed to survive exactly two classes, one test, and at least twelve separate thoughts about going back to Ilya’s room instead of acting like a functional person.
He sat across from Rose and next to Hayden in the crowded dining hall, absentmindedly peeling the label off his water bottle while Rose talked about one of her professors and how awful her office hours had been.
Shane was trying to listen. He really was.
But Ilya was three tables away, and somehow, that was worse than if he’d been sitting right next to him.
The distance and the pretending always made Shane hyperaware of him. Every movement. Every laugh. Every time someone leaned over to say something to him.
It was ridiculous.
“You’re doing it again,” Rose said suddenly.
Shane blinked. “Doing what?”
“Staring into space like you’re lost in some kind of tragedy.”
Hayden snorted into his drink.
“I told you he’s been weird all day.”
“I’m not weird.”
“You were late this morning,” Hayden pointed out immediately. “That alone is medically concerning.”
Rose narrowed her eyes slightly. “Wait, you were late?”
Shane regretted sitting down instantly.
“By like five minutes.”
“You?” Rose looked genuinely shocked. “What happened? Did you die?”
“Almost,” Hayden muttered.
Shane rolled his eyes, finally taking a bite of food mostly so he’d have an excuse not to answer.
His phone buzzed against the table.
One message.
He didn’t need to look to know who it was from.
Still, his hand moved automatically.
Shane stared at the screen for a second before typing back under the table.
A reply came almost immediately.
Shane hated the way warmth immediately climbed into his face.
Across the cafeteria, Ilya didn’t look at his phone again. Just kept talking to whoever was sitting with him, completely relaxed.
Like he hadn’t just ruined Shane’s ability to think straight with one text.
“Okay, now you’re definitely smiling at your phone,” Rose said.
Shane locked it a little too quickly. “I’m not.”
“You literally are,” Hayden said.
Before Shane could answer, Hayden glanced past him toward the other side of the cafeteria and scoffed quietly.
“Oh my god, there’s Rozanov.”
Shane forced himself not to react.
“What about him?” Rose asked.
Hayden shrugged. “I just don’t get the hype.”
Shane reached for his drink before his expression could betray him.
Hayden’s eyes stayed on Ilya for a moment too long.
“Everything just… works for him. Good looks, good grades, everyone’s always around him like he’s some kind of celebrity.”
Rose frowned. “That’s a bit harsh.”
“It’s true,” Hayden said, a little sharper now. “He walks into a room, and everyone just gravitates toward him like he’s untouchable. And he clearly knows it.”
He scoffed under his breath. “And he’s not even nice about it. He acts like he doesn’t care about anyone unless they’re useful to him.”
Rose shook her head slightly.
“You don’t actually know him.”
“I know enough,” Hayden replied immediately.
Hayden didn’t know the first thing about Ilya.
He didn’t know how easily he laughed when something amused him, or how unexpectedly sharp his humor could be when he let it slip. He didn’t know the way he paid attention to the smallest details, like noticing when someone was tired, or remembering small things they liked without being told twice.
He didn’t know the soft, unguarded version of him that existed nowhere in public. The one Shane had learned, piece by piece, over months of late nights and stolen mornings.
Shane knew exactly how Ilya was when the walls dropped. How he was gentle in a way that didn’t need attention drawn to it. How he cared more than he ever said out loud. How he always made space for Shane without ever making it feel like something Shane had to ask for.
And Shane knew the small things too, the ones no one else would ever notice, the things nobody else knew about him.
The color of his toothbrush in the bathroom glass. The way he sometimes ate in bed just because he couldn’t be bothered to sit at the kitchen table. The way he never finished a single movie when Shane stayed over because his attention always drifted somewhere else. The way his hand would press Shane into the mattress when—
“How does he always look this good?” Rose muttered suddenly, glancing toward Ilya’s table with obvious admiration.
Hayden scoffed. “See? That’s exactly what I mean. People talk about him like he’s some kind of campus phenomenon.”
Rose shrugged lightly. “I mean… look at him.”
Shane lowered his head slightly, hiding the smile threatening to appear on his face behind his drink.
Because yeah. He did look at him. All the time. And somehow, knowing Ilya the way he did only made it worse.
Shane looked down at his phone again.
Another message.
A second one followed immediately after.
Shane bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to keep his face neutral.
“See?” Hayden pointed suddenly. “You’re doing the weird phone thing again.”
“I’m texting.”
“You’re blushing.”
“I’m literally not.”
Rose leaned forward dramatically.
“Wait. Are you secretly seeing someone?”
Shane nearly choked on his drink.
“What?” he said immediately, a little too fast. “No.”
Rose narrowed her eyes. “That was suspicious.”
“It literally wasn’t.”
Hayden barely looked up from his food. “If Shane was secretly seeing someone, we would’ve noticed by now.”
“Not necessarily,” Rose replied. “Some people are good at hiding things.”
Shane focused very intensely on opening his water bottle again.
“There’s nothing to hide.”
“Mm,” Rose hummed.
That sound alone made him glance at her.
She was watching him now. Not teasing anymore. Actually watching him. And worse, she looked like she was putting pieces together in real time.
Shane immediately dropped his gaze back to the table just as his phone buzzed again under it.
Shane’s eyes widened slightly. He didn’t even look up, just typed quickly under the table.
Shane exhaled slowly through his nose, jaw tightening a little.
Shane hesitated. His thumb hovered, then moved.
Shane stared at the screen for a second, then replied.
Another message came almost instantly.
Shane rolled his eyes automatically, even though his chest still fluttered a little at the message.
Several more texts followed right away.
Shane glanced up before he could help himself.
Across the cafeteria, Ilya was already looking at him from two tables away, one arm lazily resting over the back of his chair like he didn’t have a care in the world.
He even looked amused.
Shane immediately looked back down at his phone.
Unfortunately, Shane did.
Shane’s eyes widened for half a second before he quickly forced his expression back to normal.
Shane let out a quiet breath through his nose.
There was a pause this time. Longer than the others.
Then—
Shane locked his phone a little too quickly after that.
Next to him, Hayden finally checked the time on his phone and groaned.
“I have macroeconomics in ten minutes. Kill me.”
“Sounds dramatic,” Rose said.
“You’ve never had Peterson at two in the afternoon,” Hayden replied while grabbing his bag from under the table. “That man could make winning the lottery sound boring.”
Rose laughed quietly. “Maybe try listening for once.”
“I do listen. Unfortunately.”
He swung his bag over his shoulder with another sigh before stepping away from the table.
“Send me the stats notes later,” he told Shane.
“Mhm.”
“And stop looking at your phone like someone’s threatening your family.”
Shane flipped him off without looking up. Hayden laughed and disappeared into the crowd of students moving through the cafeteria.
The second he was gone, Rose turned toward Shane fully.
“Okay,” she said quietly. “Who is it?”
Shane almost dropped his phone again.
“There is no ‘who.’”
“That’s a lie.”
“It’s not.”
“Shane.”
He looked down at the table. “Rose.”
“You’ve been acting weird all day.”
“I’m tired.”
“You’re distracted.”
“That too.”
“And every time your phone buzzes, you look like you’re trying not to smile.”
Shane pressed his lips together.
Rose watched him for another second before her expression softened slightly.
“You know I’m not judging you, right?”
That almost made it worse somehow.
He rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “It’s nothing serious.”
Rose immediately perked up at that. “Oh my god, there is someone.”
Shane let out a quiet groan. “Keep your voice down.”
Her eyes widened. “Holy shit.”
“Rose.”
“You have a secret person?”
“It’s not—” He stopped himself, glancing briefly around them on instinct. “It’s complicated.”
Rose stared at him like she’d just discovered a completely different version of him existed.
Then, slowly, suspiciously, her eyes narrowed.
“…Why do I feel like I know him?”
Shane shifted awkwardly, avoiding eye contact.
“…Because you do know him,” Shane admitted quietly, before immediately adding, “but that doesn’t mean anything.”
Rose leaned back slightly in her chair, arms crossing.
“Oh my god, it absolutely means something.”
“It doesn’t.”
“Shane.” Her voice softened a little this time. “You know you can tell me things, right?”
He did know that.
That was the problem.
Because if he started saying it out loud, it would stop being something he could easily ignore and push aside, something he could still convince himself was simple and casual. It would turn into something heavier, something real in a way he hadn’t fully let himself admit yet.
Rose was still watching him carefully now.
Shane rubbed his thumb against the edge of his phone. “It’s just…” He stopped. “I don’t know.”
Rose’s eyebrows lifted slightly. “That serious, huh?”
“No,” he said too quickly. Then, quieter: “Maybe.”
That got her full attention.
Shane stared down at the table for a long second before speaking again.
“It wasn’t supposed to become a thing.”
Rose didn’t interrupt.
“We said it was casual.” He laughed once under his breath, humorless. “We still say it’s casual.”
Her expression changed slightly at the 'we'.
And Shane realized, a second too late, that he’d already said too much.
Rose leaned forward slowly. “Wait.”
Shane closed his eyes briefly.
“Oh my god,” she whispered. “There’s been a 'we' this entire time?”
“It’s not—”
“How long?”
He hesitated. Too long.
Rose’s eyes widened.
“Shane.”
“…Almost eight months.”
“Eight months?” she repeated, nearly choking on the words. “And you never told me?”
“I couldn’t exactly bring it up casually.”
“Actually, no, I think ‘hey by the way I’ve secretly been sleeping with someone for almost a year’ would’ve been a pretty insane thing to leave out.”
Despite himself, Shane huffed a quiet laugh.
But it faded quickly.
Because now that he’d started talking, he suddenly couldn’t really stop.
“It was easy at first,” he admitted quietly. “We’d just hook up, and that was it.”
Rose stayed completely silent now. Listening carefully.
“But lately it’s…” He exhaled slowly. “Different.”
“How different?”
Shane stared at his hands.
“I stay over almost every night now.”
Rose blinked once.
“We text constantly.”
Another blink.
“And sometimes I borrow his clothes,” Shane added before he could stop himself. “Like… casually. Like it’s normal.”
Rose looked genuinely stunned now.
“Shane,” she said carefully, “that does not sound casual.”
Shane exhaled slowly, like he was trying to reset the conversation in his head.
“It is casual,” he said finally, a little more firmly. “It’s just… we spend more time together now. That’s it.”
Rose didn’t answer right away. She just watched him.
Shane shifted in his seat under that look. “It’s not complicated,” he added, quieter this time. “We just...like each other’s company, I guess.”
“Do you like him?” Rose asked suddenly.
Shane blinked.
“…What?”
Rose didn’t move. “Do you like him?” she repeated, calmer.
Shane let out a short, disbelieving breath through his nose. “That’s a weird question.”
“It’s a normal question.”
He looked away immediately, jaw tightening a little as he tried to find something to say that made sense.
“I mean...yeah,” he said after a beat. “Obviously. I wouldn’t spend time with him if I didn’t like him.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
Shane exhaled slowly, clearly already tired of the direction the conversation was taking. “Rose, you’re reading too much into it.”
Rose tilted her head slightly. “Am I?”
Shane rubbed the back of his neck, already regretting how much he’d said in the first place. “Yeah. It’s not deeper than what I told you.”
He paused as his gaze dropped to the table again, fingers picking at the edge of his sleeve.
“I mean…I really like it when we’re together. It’s just easy. Everything feels fine. I like when he texts me first, and when he just shows up like it’s the most normal thing in the world. And the sex… God Rose, he’s a freak. The sex is so fucking amazing that I think I’ve kind of gotten addicted to it.”
He kept going for a second without really thinking, the words slipping out softer after that, less controlled.
“And I like how he’ll just… pull me closer when I’m not even expecting it, like it’s automatic. Like he just wants me there.”
That was when he stopped.
Not because he ran out of things to say, but because he finally looked up and saw Rose.
The smile that was starting to form on her face was small, but it was definitely growing. Like she was watching him walk straight into something he didn’t realize he’d already admitted.
Shane’s expression shifted instantly.
“Okay, no. Don’t say anything,” he muttered quickly, sitting up a little straighter. “Forget I said that. Actually, let's go, we have class. We’re leaving. This conversation is done.”
Rose opened her mouth like she was about to argue.
“I’m serious,” he cut in, already standing. “Don’t. I mean it.”
She didn’t look convinced at all.
“I’m not letting this go,” she said, still smiling as she grabbed her bag.
Shane sighed, dragging a hand over his face as he turned away, already heading out.
Before leaving the cafeteria, his eyes flicked instinctively toward where Ilya had been sitting earlier.
The seat was empty.
-
"Fuck...please don't stop." Shane moaned as he gripped the headboard to steady himself, letting his head fall back.
The minute Shane’s last class ended, he’d sent Ilya a quick text letting him know he was on his way.
Ilya had practically dragged him into his room before pinning him against the door to kiss him. It didn’t take long before they were both naked, Shane on all fours on the bed, begging.
"God... you feel so good." Ilya's hands tightened on Shane's hips as he gave a particularly hard thrust. "You like this, don't you? Tell me you do."
"I love it..." He buried his face in the pillow. "It always feels so good, Ilya."
“It’s just me, isn’t it?” Ilya’s movements were rough, uneven, a clear sign he was close. “Admit it. Say I’m the only one who can fuck you like this.”
Shane was a mess. He loved it when Ilya took him from behind. The angle was incredible, and Ilya knew exactly what to do to drive him insane.
“It’s just you, Ilya,” he managed to say. “P-Please make me come… please.”
“I love when you beg for it, kotenok.”
Suddenly, Ilya pulled out, and Shane felt like he was on the verge of tears. In one quick, expert motion, he flipped Shane onto his back. He pushed into him again with a single thrust, drawing a loud moan from both of them. “I want to see your face when you come.”
Shane whined in response, close to the edge. Ilya leaned down to kiss him, hips moving with force, the headboard banging hard against the wall. After a few deep thrusts, Shane came with a muffled cry swallowed by Ilya’s mouth.
“Fuck, baby…” Ilya breathed against his lips, his voice rough. “I’m close.”
After several powerful thrusts, Ilya followed soon after, Shane tightening around him as a few broken words in Russian slipped from his lips.
The room slowly settled into silence, filled only with the sound of their uneven breathing. Ilya stayed close for a moment longer, face buried in Shane’s neck as he let out a long, tired sigh.
“Oh my God, Hollander… you’re going to kill me.”
Shane let out a quiet laugh at that, still slightly breathless, his fingers buried in Ilya’s hair, gently threading through the messy curls like he didn’t really want to let go yet.
Without thinking, he pressed a soft kiss to his temple.
Ilya finally shifted just enough to look at him, expression softer.
“You okay?” he asked quietly.
Shane blinked at him and nodded.
“Yeah,” he said. “I’m good.”
Ilya pulled out of him carefully, moving with a gentleness that contrasted with everything that had come before. Without a word, he stood and headed toward the bathroom.
A few seconds later, he returned with a warm, slightly damp towel. Sitting beside Shane again, he took his time, cleaning him up with quiet attention.
When he was done, Ilya tossed the towel aside and lay back down next to him, settling into the mattress with a slow exhale.
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
Then, Ilya turned his head to look at Shane. The words slipped out before he could stop himself.
“You know,” he murmured, “I was serious.”
Shane turned his head toward him.
“About what?”
A faint smile appeared on Ilya’s face.
“Missing you.”
That did something strange to Shane’s chest. He blushed violently, turning his head to stare at the ceiling, which had suddenly become far more interesting.
Then he muttered, “Come on, we saw each other this morning and crossed paths a few times today.”
Ilya didn’t respond immediately. He rolled his eyes, clearly amused, while Shane failed to see his point.
“So?” he said eventually, still smiling. “You left early this morning, and we didn’t talk all day. I thought you’d at least come give me a little kiss in the dining hall.”
Shane turned his head back toward him so fast it was almost offended.
“Don’t even start,” he said, sitting up a little as he tapped Ilya’s chest with the back of his hand, though there was no real force behind it. “What makes you think it was okay to sext me while I was literally sitting with my friends? They almost caught me.”
Ilya’s smile only widened, unbothered.
“And?”
Shane blinked. “And?”
“Let them find out,” Ilya said casually, like it was the simplest solution in the world. “Then I wouldn’t have to hide you anymore.”
Shane felt his face warm a little at that, avoiding Ilya’s gaze. Instead of answering, he shifted away, pushing himself up and glancing around the room like he suddenly couldn’t sit still anymore.
He searched the room for his clothes, still where Ilya had hurriedly undressed him earlier.
Behind him, Ilya was still watching, silent now, his posture unchanged but his attention sharper than before.
“Where are you going?” he asked, voice calm, almost lazy.
Shane didn’t look back. “I have to go.”
There was a pause.
“I thought you were staying tonight,” Ilya said.
That made Shane hesitate for half a second. He shook his head and pulled his shirt on a little too quickly.
“I’ve got exams tomorrow. I need to revise.”
Ilya finally pushed himself up onto his elbows, watching him more closely now. The change in Shane’s pace, the way he wasn’t meeting his eyes anymore…it didn’t match the usual rhythm between them.
“Shane, you and I both know you could walk into that exam tomorrow half asleep and still get the highest grade in the room.”
Shane gave a short laugh that didn’t quite land. “Yeah, well.”
He turned away again, grabbing the rest of his things.
Ilya’s gaze stayed on him, more focused now.
“You’re acting weird,” he added.
“I’m not.”
“You are,” Ilya said simply. “You never rush out like this.”
“I just have things to do,” he said, a little sharper than intended.
The room fell quiet for a beat.
Ilya watched him for a moment longer, then sat up fully.
“Did I do something wrong?” For the first time, there was a hint of uncertainty in Ilya’s voice.
Shane froze. His eyebrows shot up.
“What? No.”
"Was I too rough?"
The question caught Shane completely off guard. A short laugh escaped him before he could stop it.
“No. Definitely not.”
Already fully dressed, Shane stepped back toward the bed and sat down on the edge of the mattress.
“No,” he repeated, softer this time. “Sex with you is the best I've ever had. And you know it.”
A faint smile tugged at the corner of Ilya’s mouth, but it faded quickly.
“Then what is it?”
Shane looked down at his hands.
“It’s just...” He let out a slow breath. “I have to go. I have things to do.”
Ilya nodded slowly.
"Right."
He looked away for a moment, his gaze settling somewhere beyond Shane's shoulder, as if he wasn't quite sure what to say next.
Shane's chest tightened. He leaned forward slightly and cupped Ilya's face in both hands.
Ilya immediately looked back at him. For a second, neither of them moved.
Then, Shane closed the distance and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips.
Ilya melted into it without hesitation. One of his hands came to rest on Shane's hip, keeping him close.
The kiss remained soft, unhurried.
Shane allowed himself to enjoy it, memorizing the warmth of Ilya's mouth and the familiar feeling of having him close.
When they finally pulled apart, their foreheads stayed pressed together, neither of them moving away. Shane felt a small smile appear on his face.
"I'll text you when I get home?"
Ilya’s thumb brushed gently over his hip.
"Okay."
"And we'll see each other soon, okay?"
This time, the smile that formed on Ilya's lips stayed.
"Okay."
Shane kissed him once more, quick and affectionate, before forcing himself to pull away.
Then he pushed himself up from the bed and grabbed his phone from the nightstand. He quickly made sure he had everything, then walked slowly toward the door.
He stopped with his hand on the handle. For a second, he didn’t open it.
Then, he looked back over his shoulder.
Ilya was still sitting there, watching him.
Shane gave him a small smile, soft and almost shy, something that didn’t quite fit everything that had just happened.
“See you,” he said quietly.
Ilya’s expression softened immediately.
“Yeah,” he answered. “See you.”
Shane opened the door and paused, quickly checking that no one was in the hallway before stepping out.
The moment the door closed behind him, he pulled his phone from his pocket and opened a message to Rose.
-
Shane spotted Rose the second he stepped into the café.
She was already sitting near the window in her usual spot. He made his way over and sat down across from her, his expression unusually serious.
Rose didn’t speak right away. She just watched him, waiting.
Shane took a breath.
“What I’m about to tell you needs to stay between us. Okay?”
Rose raised an eyebrow.
“Shane, you don’t even need to say that. You know you can trust me completely.”
“No, I mean…don’t even tell Hayden. Not yet.”
That made her pause for half a second, but she nodded.
“I won’t. I promise.”
“Okay…”
Shane exhaled slowly, suddenly unsure where to start. His fingers tapped lightly against the table before he stopped himself.
How was he supposed to explain this? How was he supposed to explain Ilya?
“We met at a party almost eight months ago,” he began. “We don’t have any classes together, so I’d never seen him before. He was… the most attractive guy in the room.”
Rose didn’t react, just listened.
“We ended up playing beer pong together. It clicked immediately. Like, instantly. An hour later I was already in his bed wondering how it was even possible to be fucked that well.”
He let out a short, humorless breath.
“It was so good that we just… kept seeing each other. Casual. Just sex.”
He paused.
“Sometimes I’d end up blowing him in the bathroom between classes… other times he’d drag me into an empty classroom just to kiss me until I forgot what my next class was.”
He hesitated for a second, his eyes dropping to the table, then went on anyway.
“I never told you because it was supposed to be just that. Nothing more.”
His voice lowered a little.
“But for the past few weeks…”
A faint, uncertain breath left him.
“He’s been… more present,” he said slowly. “We text all the time now. He asks me to stay over, his kisses are… more intense. More intimate.”
He stopped, exhaling quietly through his nose, clearly struggling to phrase it.
“He’s always been like that from the start. He pays attention to what I like, what I want… it’s just how Ilya is with me, but—”
He stopped abruptly the second the name left his mouth.
A beat of silence.
Rose blinked.
Then her eyes widened.
“…Wait,” she said, leaning forward slightly, a smile already forming like she couldn’t stop it. “Oh my God, Shane. Really? Ilya? As in Ilya Rozanov?”
Shane went still.
For half a second, he genuinely considered disappearing into the floor.
“Yeah,” he admitted, barely audible.
Rose's smile somehow grew even wider.
“Oh my God.”
“Rose—”
“No, shut up for a second.” She pointed at him across the table. “Shane, I cannot believe you've been hooking up with Ilya Rozanov for eight months.”
Shane immediately dropped his face into his hands.
“Oh my God.”
“Now I understand why you didn't want Hayden to know,” she continued, looking delighted. “He hates that guy.”
“Hate is a strong word.”
“Shane.”
“Okay, fine. He hates him.”
Rose laughed.
“Wow. Wow. This is insane.”
“It gets worse.”
That made her stop.
“What do you mean, it gets worse?”
Shane groaned.
“I think I'm screwed.”
“That's usually not how people describe casual hookups.”
“I'm serious.”
His expression shifted, becoming more genuine.
“I can't seem to stay away from him anymore.”
The smile on Rose's face softened slightly.
Shane stared down at his coffee, quietly admitting, “It's not just sex now.”
“I keep wanting to see him. And when I don't, I miss him. And the worst part is...” He rubbed a hand over his face. “I think he's starting to feel the same way.”
That caught her attention immediately.
“What makes you say that?”
Shane hesitated.
“He acts differently now.”
“How?”
“He wants me around all the time.” A small, helpless laugh escaped him. “He always finds an excuse to keep me there a little longer. He gets annoyed when I leave too early. Today, he literally admitted he missed me.”
Rose stared at him.
“Shane.”
“I know.”
“No, Shane.”
“What?”
“You are describing a man with a crush.”
Heat immediately rushed to Shane's face.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No.”
Rose looked completely unconvinced. “Have you actually asked him what he feels?”
Shane gasped.
“Absolutely not.”
“Why?”
“Because what if we're good like this?”
Rose blinked. “What?”
“What if we're not supposed to be anything else?” Shane said, words suddenly rushing out of him. “What if being boyfriends ruins everything? What if we just like... whatever this is?”
Rose continued staring at him.
Then she laughed—not meanly. Just because she genuinely couldn't believe what she was hearing.
“Shane.”
“What?”
“If you were talking about literally anyone else, maybe I'd consider that argument.”
Shane frowned.
“But?”
“But you're blushing just talking about him.”
His face somehow became even redder.
“Rose.”
“And from everything you've told me, he's completely gone too.”
Shane immediately looked away.
“You don't know that.”
“I know enough.”
Rose leaned forward slightly.
“People don't spend eight months acting like that and then suddenly start missing each other, wanting to spend every second together, and getting upset when the other leaves because it's still just sex.”
Shane opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated, closing it again before trying once more, only for no words to come out at all.
Rose smiled.
“Yeah. That's what I thought.”
A miserable sound escaped him.
“I am so screwed.”
“On the contrary,” Rose said, grinning. “I think you might be in love.”
Shane didn't answer right away.
The words lingered between them.
I think you might be in love.
For a moment, he just stared at the table. Then everything he'd spent weeks carefully avoiding seemed to rearrange itself all at once. The constant need to see Ilya. The way his mood lifted whenever his name appeared on his phone. The disappointment he felt every time they had to part ways. The fact that, after leaving his room barely twenty minutes ago, all he wanted was to go back.
Back to him.
Shane swallowed. His chest felt strangely tight. Because Rose was right. Somewhere along the way, without even realizing it, he'd fallen for him.
Across the table, Rose watched the realization settle on his face and immediately knew.
"Oh my God," she whispered.
Shane dropped his face into his hands.
"Oh my God," she repeated.
"Yep."
A helpless laugh escaped him. His heart was beating far too fast now.
"Text him."
Shane’s head shot up.
"What?"
"Text him."
He immediately shook his head.
"No."
"Shane."
"No."
Rose reached for her coffee.
"I'm willing to bet he answers in less than thirty seconds."
That pulled another laugh out of him.
"Stop."
"I'm serious."
"You have no idea what you're talking about."
Rose gave him a look.
"Shane."
"What if you're wrong?" he asked quietly, "What if I've completely misread this? What if he doesn't feel the same way?"
Rose didn't even hesitate.
"Send him a text."
Shane stared at her.
"Rose—"
"Something simple."
She pointed at his phone.
"Nothing dramatic. Just text him."
Shane looked down at the device sitting on the table.
His thumb hovered over the keyboard.
"What am I even supposed to say?"
"Anything."
"That's terrible advice."
Rose rolled her eyes.
"Just text him."
With a groan, Shane unlocked his phone.
After a moment's hesitation, he typed:
He hesitated for half a second before hitting send.
Then, he placed the phone back on the table, screen still facing up.
Rose immediately leaned back in her chair.
“I give him thirty seconds.”
Shane sighed.
“You’re ridiculous.”
Rose only smiled.
“Just watch.”
The café noise faded into the background.
Shane pretended to focus on anything else.
Fifteen seconds passed.
Then twenty.
At twenty-five—
The screen lit up.
Both of them looked down at the same time.
Rose burst out laughing.
“Oh my God.”
Shane reached for the phone instantly.
Rose leaned forward, delighted.
“Oh my God, you’re both idiots.”
“Rose.”
“No, seriously.” She pointed at him. “Two complete idiots.”
Despite himself, Shane felt his mouth twitch into a smile.
Rose shook her head and finished her coffee in one last sip, as if the conversation was already decided.
She set the cup down and stood.
“Alright,” she said, “go see him.”
His brows furrowed.
“I literally just left twenty minutes ago.”
“Yeah.” She nodded. “And now you miss him.”
“That’s not—”
Rose lifted a hand, stopping him mid-sentence.
“I don’t care.”
Shane let out a short laugh.
“Rose—”
“Go see him,” she repeated, slower this time. “And thank me later.”
Before Shane could protest again, she leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.
“Good luck,” she murmured.
And just like that, she grabbed her bag and walked out of the café.
For a few seconds after she left, Shane remained exactly where he was, staring at the empty seat across from him. Rose's words kept echoing in his head.
Two idiots who are clearly in love.
His stomach twisted.
Because the more he thought about it, the harder it became to deny.
He wanted to see Ilya.
Not tomorrow.
Not later tonight.
Now.
Shane dropped his hands and exhaled sharply.
“Okay,” he muttered, though he wasn't entirely sure who he was trying to convince.
Rose's words continued to bounce around inside his head, making it impossible to sit still any longer.
Before he could overthink himself into staying, he got to his feet, gathered his things, shoved his phone into his pocket, and headed for the door.
If he stopped to think about what he was doing, he knew he'd lose his nerve.
So, he didn't.
He walked straight out of the café and toward Ilya's dorm.
-
His confidence lasted right up until he reached Ilya's door.
Then it vanished completely.
His heart was beating far too fast. At some point during the walk over, he'd stopped questioning whether this was a good idea. Now the only problem was actually doing it.
He glanced down at his phone. The last message was still sitting there unanswered.
Shane hadn't replied. Instead, he'd spent the last twenty minutes walking across campus without stopping once, only to end up exactly here, in front of Ilya’s door, like a complete idiot.
"Great," he muttered under his breath.
Before he could talk himself out of it, he knocked.
A few seconds later, he heard movement from inside. The door opened, revealing Ilya on the other side.
Surprise flashed across his face at the sight of Shane. Not concern or alarm, just genuine surprise, as though he hadn't expected to see him again tonight.
His gaze swept over him briefly before settling on his face.
"Shane?"
Shane swallowed, suddenly very aware of how close he was to backing out entirely.
"You forgot something?" Ilya asked, still leaning slightly against the doorframe.
"No." A beat. "Well, no. Not really."
One of Ilya's eyebrows lifted slightly, waiting.
Shane exhaled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.
"Can I come in?"
Ilya stepped back immediately, opening the door wider.
“Yeah,” he said simply. “Of course.”
Shane slipped inside.
The door clicked shut behind him, and the silence that followed felt unfamiliar in a way he couldn’t quite explain.
Not uncomfortable. Just… unusual.
Because normally, by now, there wouldn’t be any silence left at all.
Normally, Ilya would already be pulling him closer, fingers in his hair, mouth already on his.
Shane would already be halfway out of his clothes without even thinking about it, pushed back against the nearest surface, like they couldn’t stand the idea of distance.
But now, Shane just stood there.
He cleared his throat.
Nothing came out.
“Shane,” Ilya said after a beat, quieter now. “What’s going on?”
Shane looked away for a second, searching for the right words.
“I met Rose,” he started, then immediately frowned at himself. “Well…obviously. I mean, I just saw her.”
He stopped. Took a breath. Tried again.
“That’s not what I mean.”
Ilya just watched him in silence, moving his hands like he wasn’t sure what to do with them, like he wanted to touch him but was holding himself back.
Shane swallowed.
“I talked to her,” he said more carefully. “About… us.”
For the first time, Ilya looked genuinely surprised.
He didn't say anything, though. He just kept watching him.
Shane swallowed.
“I know we said this was casual,” he began. “And that we weren't going to tell anyone—"
“You said that.”
Shane blinked.
“What?”
“You said that.” Ilya's voice remained calm. “You were the one who wanted it to stay casual.”
Shane frowned.
“Yeah, but you agreed.”
A strange look crossed Ilya's face.
“Did I?”
The question caught Shane completely off guard.
Ilya continued, "I agreed because I'd just fucked you and you were the best lay of my life. Whatever you asked me that night, I would've said yes."
Shane felt heat rush to his face and shook his head.
"Rose told me I was an idiot."
Ilya laughed.
"Smart woman."
"She also told me to come here."
That seemed to surprise him.
"Did she?"
"She basically kicked me out of the café."
The smile on Ilya's face grew.
Shane felt his own lips twitch in response, but the smile slipped from his face as reality caught up with him again.
He'd come all this way for a reason, and despite everything they'd just admitted to each other, the words he actually needed to say were still lodged somewhere in his throat. His heart hadn't slowed down once since leaving the café.
He looked directly at Ilya.
"I don't want this to be casual anymore."
Shane’s voice came out quieter than he expected.
“It was never casual for me, Shane.”
Shane stared at him.
“When you texted me three days after that party, I was ridiculously happy.” His mouth curved slightly. “I tried to act normal, but I wasn’t.”
Ilya shrugged, a relieved smile on his lips as he spoke, like it felt good to finally say it out loud after keeping it in for so long.
“I lasted two weeks before I told Sveta.”
Shane’s eyes widened instantly.
“Seriously? Ilya, we said we wouldn’t tell anyone! Oh my God—”
“I know, I’m sorr—"
“We have a class together! Fuck, now I understand why she used to stare at me sometimes. Or when I showed up late. She probably thought—”
“That I’d just fucked you ten minutes earlier?” Ilya finished for him.
Shane shot him a dark look, though he was fighting not to laugh.
“She also made a comment when you wore one of my hoodies once.”
Shane groaned immediately, dropping his face into his hands.
“Oh my God. That’s so embarrassing.”
A small, almost fond smile tugged at Ilya’s mouth.
“You didn’t seem embarrassed at the time.”
Ilya stepped closer, stopping only a few centimeters away from Shane, close enough that Shane had to tilt his head slightly just to keep eye contact.
“Shane, you are the best thing that has happened to me in the last eight months,” he said, his gaze fixed on him, not wavering once, “and I don’t want this to stay casual between us.”
Shane opened his mouth to speak, but Ilya didn’t give him the time to interrupt.
“I want you,” he said simply, like it was obvious, like it had always been obvious, “properly. And I want people to know it.”
He took Shane’s hands in his.
“In my head, you were already mine,” he added more softly, a hint of something almost amused in his voice, “but I want it to be real. I want everyone to know.”
Shane’s heart was pounding out of his chest as he listened, unable to look away from him.
“I’d also like it if your friend Hayden stopped looking at me like he wants to kill me every time he sees me. Although, honestly, he might look at me even worse if he finds out we’ve been seeing each other for eight months and I tell him we fucked in his car the one time you borrowed it.”
“Don’t you dare tell him that, Ilya!”
Shane said it seriously, but he ended up laughing anyway as he remembered the stain they'd left on the back seat and how Ilya had immediately offered to clean it just to make Shane happy.
The laugh was still on Shane’s lips, fading as he noticed Ilya’s expression change, the teasing look replaced with something serious and open.
“I don’t want to pretend anymore,” Ilya said quietly. “And I love you. I always have.”
For a moment, Shane just stood still, like the words hadn’t fully reached him yet. Then his breath caught, and he moved forward abruptly, almost stumbling as he threw himself into Ilya’s arms.
Ilya caught him immediately, pulling him close as Shane leaned into him. There was no space left between them. Shane kissed him first, and Ilya answered instantly, just as sure.
When they finally broke apart, they stayed close, foreheads nearly touching, both of them breathing like a weight had finally lifted. Shane’s grip tightened on Ilya’s shirt as he blinked fast, trying to hold himself together, but he didn’t let go.
"I love you too,” he said, voice shaking but sure.
Something in Ilya’s face softened completely at that, and he pulled Shane in even closer, visibly relieved.
“You have no idea what it does to me to hear that from you,” Ilya said, a wide smile on his face, not teasing this time, just genuinely happy.
Shane gave a small, tired laugh, pressing his forehead briefly against Ilya’s again, and for a moment neither of them moved, letting the moment linger between them.
-
"Come on, Ilya, we really have to go—
"Five more minutes?" Ilya asked, almost pleading.
Shane huffed, pushing Ilya lightly off him. “Wasn’t this what you wanted? To make everyone know I’m yours? Because keeping me hostage in your bed isn’t exactly helping.”
Ilya let out a short laugh and pinched his hip lightly, making him flinch. “When you’re in my bed, it’s different.”
“I have to talk to Hayden,” Shane said. “Come on. He’s already going to see me show up late again, and I’m going to have to borrow your clothes because I didn’t bring anything… I don’t even know how he hasn’t noticed yet.”
Ilya kissed the side of his neck, leaving a few soft, lingering kisses there before leaning in closer and murmuring against his ear, “You should wear my old hoodie. The one I had printed with my name on it."
Shane froze. “Absolutely not.”
Ilya’s mouth curved into a grin. “Why not? Maybe if he sees ‘ROZANOV’ written across your back, he’ll finally understand why you’re always late.”
Shane laughed and pushed Ilya fully away so he could get up. He heard Ilya laughing behind him and walked over to the wardrobe to grab some of Ilya’s clothes.
“I’m going to tell him today,” Shane said. “We’ve got an hour for lunch, I’ll have time. And I’d like you to be there.”
“Mmh yes, of course.”
“And you’re not going to do anything inappropriate,” Shane added. “We’ll be in public, people are going to talk."
“Mmmhmm…”
Shane finally got dressed, and Ilya got up to join him, still naked. Shane fixed his hair in the big mirror in the room while Ilya came up behind him, his erection already growing.
“Ilya, seriously? I just sucked you off like 30 minutes ago.”
“Oh, I know, baby... Best wake-up of my life."
Shane turned around, smiling at him.
“We’ll meet for lunch,” he said. “I think Rose really can’t wait to meet you.”
“And I can’t wait to meet Hayden,” Ilya replied in a teasing tone. “Text me when you get to class.”
“I will,” Shane said, rolling his eyes.
He leaned in to give him a quick kiss, already starting to pull away, but Ilya caught him and kissed him again, deeper this time, holding him there for a second longer.
“I already can’t wait to see you again,” Ilya murmured against his lips.
Shane smiled, soft and a little breathless. “Me too.”
He finally stepped back before Ilya could find another excuse to keep him there any longer. Grabbing his backpack from beside the desk, he quickly looked around the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything.
“See you at lunch,” he said as he headed toward the door. Then he pointed at Ilya. “And go take a shower, since you were too lazy to take one with me this morning.”
“Don't remind me,” Ilya groaned. “I already regret that decision.”
Shane laughed, shook his head, and stepped out into the hallway, still smiling as the door closed behind him.
-
“Think I completely messed up the assignment. It was way too hard, seriously, how are we supposed to—”
Hayden was still talking, but Shane wasn’t really listening anymore. They had been sitting in the dining hall with Rose for about five minutes, and Shane kept scanning the room, eyes drifting toward the entrance every few seconds.
No sign of Ilya yet.
Rose already knew. Hayden didn’t.
“Hayden, I need to tell you something,” Shane said suddenly, cutting him off. He hesitated, glancing at Rose, who gave him a small, reassuring nod.
“Rose was right about the secret person… I’m seeing someone. I have been for a while now.”
“Oh, cool man,” Hayden said immediately, unbothered. “Who is it?”
“Uh… well, that’s kind of the thing—”
“Wait, let me guess!” Hayden leaned forward, suddenly invested. “Is it the campus café guy? I swear I’ve seen how he looks at you and—”
“No, it’s not him,” Shane cut in quickly. “It’s been eight months, and—”
“Eight months?!” Hayden’s eyes widened. “Damn, okay, that’s serious. He must be really something if you’ve kept that going. So, like—”
“He is,” Shane said softly, almost without thinking. “He really is. And I wanted to tell you before because he’s supposed to show up any minute now to meet you, so—”
“Wait—stop.” Hayden suddenly froze. “Is that Rozanov?”
Shane turned.
Ilya had just walked into the dining hall.
He was scanning the room for a second before his eyes landed on Shane. The moment he saw him, his face lit up with a slow, easy smile, and he started walking straight toward their table like he already belonged there.
Hayden blinked. “Am I crazy or is he walking over here?”
Ilya reached the table and sat down without hesitation, smiling broadly. “Hi.”
Hayden stared at him. “Uh… what are you doing?”
“I’m going to eat lunch. Isn’t that obvious?”
Shane pressed his lips together, barely holding back a laugh.
Hayden looked between them, still confused. “No, I mean—why are you sitting with us?”
Ilya turned his head toward Shane. “You haven’t told him yet, have you?”
Shane shook his head.
Hayden looked at Ilya, then at Shane, then back again, like he was trying to solve something that refused to make sense.
“Hayden…” Shane said carefully. “This is Ilya.”
Ilya smiled politely. “Nice to finally meet you. You have a nice car. Very comfortable.”
Shane kicked him under the table immediately, shooting him a warning look. “Ilya.”
“Hey—what?” Hayden frowned. “What car?”
Rose finally sighed, rubbing her forehead.
“Oh my God, Hayden… are you actually blind?”
Hayden opened his mouth, still lost, still trying to process it. Then he looked at Shane again, really looked this time, and something finally shifted.
Because Shane’s hand was now resting under the table in Ilya’s, their fingers loosely intertwined without either of them seeming to think about it. And Ilya wasn’t looking at Hayden at all anymore. He was looking at Shane, like the rest of the room had already stopped mattering the moment he sat down.
Hayden’s jaw dropped.
“Oh… wait. Oh.”
Ilya tilted his head, clearly amused. “Are you done?”
Hayden just stared at them, speechless.
Ilya leaned a little closer to Shane, still smiling. “So… can I kiss him now, or do we have to wait for a formal announcement? I haven’t seen him in almost four hours, and I’d really like to say hello properly.”
Shane didn’t even have time to answer.
Ilya was already leaning in.
He kissed him like it was the most natural thing in the world, soft and certain, completely unbothered by the fact that they were in the middle of a public space.
Shane froze for half a second, then melted into it anyway, one hand still loosely caught in Ilya’s under the table.
Rose made a sound somewhere between a laugh and a relieved “finally,” clapping a hand over her mouth like she couldn’t contain how happy she looked.
“Okay,” she muttered, clearly delighted. “Okay, that’s adorable.”
Hayden just stared at them for a moment, still trying to process everything, then blinked.
“…Wait,” he said slowly. “So…you’re like… boyfriends?”
Rose laughed harder.
Ilya pulled back just enough to rest his forehead briefly against Shane’s, smiling like he didn’t care at all who was watching.
“Something like that,” he said simply.
And as Shane let out a small, helpless laugh, still a little breathless, it felt like everything had finally settled into place.