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"Something wrong?" Ilya asked.
Shane was looking at the bookshelf from where the two of them were laying on the couch, seeming very fascinated by it. "No, I'm just thinking how funny it will look once we add my books."
Ilya chuckled at that. A box of Shane's books sat on the floor by the shelf, waiting to be unpacked. All books inside were kept neat and tidy, the furthest damage went were some cracked spines. Ilya's books, on the other hand, all looked like they had been through a war or two.
Additionally, most of Ilya's books were regular, mass market paperbacks, while most books Shane owned were fancy hardcovers, though he made sure none had that shiny paper since he hated touching it. It was mostly because of their different tastes. Shane's hockey encyclopedias very rarely had a paperback edition, and a lot of books he owned were gifts, so he got fancier versions.
On the other hand, Ilya's book collection consisted of mostly classics, and a lot of horror novels, and it had been grown over the years, with an almost even split of Russian and English in them. Shane had learned that the reason Ilya's accent was still so strong even with improving grammar and a vast vocabulary, was that he had mostly learned English through books before coming to Boston.
"Can I check out some of those?" Shane asked, eyeing the volumes that were in English.
"Take any one you want." Ilya answered him while checking the time. "I have to go get Anya from groomer, you go or stay home?"
Shane sighed a little. "I think I'll stay, I don't really feel like going outside yet."
Ilya kissed him. "Okay, is only ten minutes from here so I will be quick."
"Okay." Shane smiled to reassure him he was alright, just a little overwhelmed.
When Ilya walked out of the door, Shane made his way towards the bookshelf. He could tell what some of the simpler cyclic words read, but it was mostly a mystery to him.
As he titled his hesd to read the titles, he noticed two books in particular that were extremely and thoroughly roughed up. Well, it was actually four books, but two stories. Each had a Russian and an English copy, and they were all falling apart.
The books were Wuthering Heights and Pride and Prejudice. Such polar opposites that it struck Shane a little.
The English copy of Pride and Prejudice was the newest, while the Russian copy of Wuthering Heights was the oldest.
Shane knew he had been given permission to take any book he wanted, but once he saw the amount of annotations inside he wasn't sure if Ilya had meant he was allowed to read that as well.
For some reason, Shane wanted to compare the four books, wanted to be able to read Russian so he could know what countless smudged words meant. Additionally to not yet understanding the script or the language, the handwriting was a mess. Shane knew Ilya usually had pretty decent handwriting, but then remembered these were probably done either in bed or on a plane or such places, so it was likely there was no chance for neat handwriting.
Ilya didn't tend to collect books he didn't love. The bookshelf was filled, yes, but it didn't contain all of the books he had read. Ilya had a system, he would read a book without annotating first, then decide if he loved it enough to actually take time to annotate it. Sometimes he did like a book, but he did not love it, those he gave to someone who actually wanted them, and the ones he didn't like or didn't have anyone to give to, he donated.
That way, the bookshelf Shane stood in front of was a library of things Ilya loved. Each one of those books had had something that caught his attention enough for him to mark it with a tiny piece of his mind.
And the four books Shane had focused on seemed to hold a piece of Ilya's soul. Suddenly, Shane was regretting not doing his reading in highschool and only focusing on his interests. He had had decent enough grades, but most of his attention had always been on hockey. Unlike Ilya, who Shane was shocked to learn had been a straight As student.
The two English books he held in his hands belonged to someone who seemed to have such a better understanding of literature than he did, Shane wasn't sure even if he read the books, annotations and all, he'd understand them in a way that Ilya did.
Something else that crossed his mind in that moment was the fact that only a handful of people knew of Ilya's literary prowess. It was hard to match a Ferrari driving, clubbing, rough player Ilya Rozanov to an Ilya Rozanov that could sit for hours and analyze every last word of a book he found interesting.
Funnily enough, though, Shane was pretty sure that the Ferrari Ilya was currently driving towards a dog grooming salon had a book in the glove compartment. Not that anyone other than Shane and Svetlana knew it was there.
Shane went to put back the copy of Pride and Prejudice, but as he did so something at the back of the shelf caught his attention.
A book was tucked behind all the others, a hardcover book. It had no title on the simple blue cover, which was stained in several places, but the title page held the same cyrillic characters as the paperback of Wuthering Heights.
Turning a couple more pages he was again greeted with annotations. Only these weren't Ilya's messy scrawls, these were lovely, or Svetlana's sharp and angular shorthand she used on her books, Shane knew it since Ilya and Svetlana often exchanged books back and forth. But the annotations in this book consisted of perfectly shaped cursive lines.
After a few seconds it dawned on him, the book must've belonged to Irina.
If going through Ilya's books felt invasive, this felt downright sacrilegious, so Shane put the book back immediately. He kmew Ilya wouldn't get mad at him, but it still felt like something he shouldn't be touching without explicit premission.
He sat down on the couch with the English copy of Wuthering Heights, where Ilya's handwriting seemed more adult than in the Russian copy of the same book. Surpassingly, the annotations were in English too, and the vocabulary was pretty strong. Shane checked the year of printing and saw it had to have been purchased at least two years after Ilya's arrival to Boston.
Ilya came back home when Shane got about fifteen pages in, and Anya darted into the house as soon as she was off leash. She jumped onto the couch to greet him, tail wagging so much her whole body swayed left to right with it.
"Jesus." Shane laughed when she knocked the book out of his hand and started licking his face. "Okay, okay, I'm all yours."
Ilya laughed at him, then scratched Anya's ear. "And this time he is not going away."
Despite still feeling horrible about having to leave Montreal after everything, Shane smiled his brightest smile at the thought that they now lived together.
It took Anya quite a bit to settle down, but once she did she put her head in Shane's lap, tail thumping happily against the couch.
Ilya noticed the book that had been dropped when Anya began her loving assault, and picked it up from the floor. "You like it?"
"Seems interesting, but do you mind if I read this? Feels a little like reading a dairy." Shane confessed.
"I don't mind." Ilya assured. "But we can get new one if notes bother you."
"No, no. No. It's not that they bother me. I just didn't want to intrude."
Ilya shrugged. "Nothing inside that I don't want you to know. But they get dark, sometimes."
Shane caught the shame in the last sentence, and leaned in for a kiss to soothe it away. "Nothing I can't handle."
"You are feeling better?" Ilya had to ask. The news of Shane's move to Ottawa had caused a whole storm of reactions, and it had been very overwhelming. Both of their phones had been put on DND, with only a few exceptions who's calls would actually get through.
"I'll be okay."
"I know you will. But are you feeling better now? Little bit?"
"Mhm." Shane assured him with another kiss. "I am, really. It sucks but at least now we get to be together. You know, have a proper life together and stuff."
Ilya's smile was so warm it could've melted the Arctic, and he stole a few more kisses before speaking. "Let's build our empire then."
"A dynasty." Shane agreed and cuddled up closer. Tomorrow they wouldn't have as much time for themselves since David and Yuna were coming for dinner, but that was tomorrow. Thinking about his parents reminded Shane of Irina's book, and after a few moments of silence he decided to bring it up. "I saw another book, in the back. Was it your mom's?"
"Yes." Ilya confirmed. He saddened a little, of course, but he no longer got distant or tense when talking about her, which Shane saw as such a huge improvement.
Of course he missed her, of course he'd always be a little sad, but Ilya had come so far in dealing with his grief. He was finally able to share some things about his mother without completely breaking down.
"I didn't read it." Ilya added. "Just took it from her room after funeral and kept it."
"How come you didn't read it?"
"Is a sad book, and I did not want to imagine her being any worse than she was, and things in that book probably show that."
Shane nodded. "I think she'd be pretty glad you have it, though. So her things aren't just thrown out or collecting dust."
Ilya smiled and kissed him again. "Yes."
Some half an hour later they got to unpacking the remaining boxes of Shane's things. They've gotten most of it done in the morning, so all that was left was a box of books and two smaller boxes of random, miscellaneous items.
Some rearranging needed to be done on the bookshelf, since Ilya's shelving system was 'just shove it wherever there's room', and Shane simply wasn't having that.
"You can't put that there." He laughed when Ilya started putting an encyclopedia series by Lord of the Rings.
"Why not? Is empty space."
"Yeah, but it's Tolkein next to monkey facts."
That made them both laugh, and Ilya shook his head, then gently pulled Shane a few steps back. "Okay, you dictate where it goes and I just put books there."
"You'd have to take everything down first if you want my system." Shane raised an eyebrow, it wouldn't exactly be a compromise that way.
"I don't care how books stand, you can decide." Ilya said.
After they took all the books off, ending up with piles all around for Anya to knock over, and wiped down the shelf, Shane got to arranging it in what he called a proper way.
First the books got separate by genre, then the bottom two shelves were filled with least read books, and the topmost one got special editions. Following that, the remaining shelves were stocked in order, with romance and contemporary being grouped together on one of them, while horror, SiFi, fantasy and thriller above that, and the classics took up two and a half shelves. Ilya's favourites got preferential treatment, being placed on the shelf directly at face level, with a few of Shane's added into it.
As a finishing touch, a few trinkets were added on. A pair of beaded bracelets Ilya had gotten from a fan after his first win win the Centaurs, a few polaroids Rose had taken when her and Shane hung out for her birthday, a printed Photo of Ilya and Svetlana on New Year's, and a tiny potted plant Yuna had placed in Shane's kitchen, only for him to form an emotional attachment to a cactus. Ruby and Jade had named it Sprinkles.
Watching it all come together made Shane suddenly overwhelmed with love. The house had always sort of been their place, since day one Shane had been leaving little pieces of himself there, he had always kept some clothes there, always had his yoga stuff there, but now he was officially moved in, and all of his things already had a dedicated place.
The house was always meant for them to live together in it, and Ilya had been making sure that when the way came, there was a space for everything Shane needed and wanted.
Nobody would've said the space looked half empty before, it was a nice mid century modern home, furnished accordingly, but it was only complete with Shane living there too.
There he stood, in the warm light of their living room, observing their life together that had been years in the making.
"You are cute." Ilya pointed out and hugged him from behind.
Shane rolled his eyes, chuckling. "And you're clingy."
"Yes." Ilya didn't bother to deny it, just pulled them back onto the couch and wrapped his arms around the other man like a koala.
Anya lifted her head from the toy she had been gnawing on and quickly abandoned it to go and plop down in Shane's lap.
"Jesus, you've convinced her she's a lap dog." Shane laughed when her entire body weight just dropped onto him.
"Every dog is lap dog." Ilya countered.
"I hate that I know you actually mean that."
"Of course I mean it, is true."
Shane just shook his head and let himself melt into the sun warmed spot on the couch. He was going to be just fine. He didn't need Montreal, or anyone who had an issue with this.
This was the happiest place on earth for Shane. Not that particular house, though it was a pretty happy place too, but in Ilya's arms, knowing they never had to hide again.
Anyone who had a problem with that was free to go fuck themselves, in Shane's book.