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Over time, it became a habit to visit Shane’s parents every now and then. This was partly because Ilya never minded the visits—he actually enjoyed them. And partly because Shane’s parents were a bit overprotective, maybe even a little nosy.
And yet, even after a few visits, Ilya still felt nervous being here, interacting with Shane’s parents when Shane wasn’t around. It was only his third visit when his boyfriend suddenly put him to the test without realizing it.
“I’m gonna go to the store really quick,” Shane announced when he came back from the kitchen, and Ilya felt his heart skip a beat.
“I can come with—” he started, but Shane shook his head.
“Nah. It’s better if you help Dad with the cooking.” He grabbed his keys; Ilya was too nervous to properly appreciate the kiss Shane planted on his cheek as he walked past.
Was Shane going to leave him alone with his parents?
“Okay.” Ilya would never panic about this.
He wasn’t panicking. Shane’s parents were nice and really supportive. It was just that the idea of being alone with them for a while made him nervous. Ilya wasn’t sure what he should talk about, or what would even interest them.
Shane didn’t seem to notice his nervousness, far too preoccupied with his own thoughts. Ilya didn’t hold it against him; in fact, he preferred it that way. He felt a little childish. Cautiously, he crept into the kitchen, where David was standing, a mountain of vegetables in front of him that he was chopping.
“Need any help?” Ilya asked with a smile on his lips.
David flinched briefly at Ilya’s sudden presence, but a smile spread across his face when he looked at the young man. He nodded for Ilya to come over, turning the knife in his hand so the handle faced Ilya.
“Sure. You can keep going with this if you want, and I’ll get the meat ready.”
They worked together in a certain silence, the air filled with the sound of vegetables being chopped and the radio playing music from the ’80s. Ilya was starting to get used to it, his nervousness fading away, and he felt a little silly for having worried about it in the first place.
After a while, David seemed to be testing the waters with Ilya.
It felt a bit like being interrogated, and Ilya had to concentrate not to think that any of his statements could be used against him. That they were somehow out to find his weak spots.
“How’s training going?”
He didn’t like the question; it reminded him too much of conversations with his father.
“Fine,” Ilya replied, sounding a bit strained, his focus occasionally drifting away from the carrots he was cutting.
“Is the team in good spirits? I heard there was an injury recently involving a couple of players on one team—” David began, but Ilya cut him off.
He didn’t want to hear that kind of thing. Thanks to his father, he’d already had to endure enough of those kinds of lessons, had to listen to enough of that. He didn’t want any more of it.
“I’ve got my team under control, don’t worry,” Ilya replied, his lips pressed into a straight line.
David seemed surprised by his harsh tone; it sent a slight wave of panic and shame through Ilya’s body. Maybe he should have just let it slide, because now he might have upset Shane’s father, and that wasn’t exactly beneficial.
“I didn’t imply that you don’t have your team under control,” David explained, looking as though he regretted his earlier questions.
Ilya was a little confused and didn’t answer, which prompted David to continue, “It must be stressful when several people on the team are injured. I just wanted to know how you feel about it.”
True, Shane’s parents weren’t the type to use his own weaknesses against him. Ilya definitely needed to work on that.
He was just about to apologize when he saw Shane’s face in the doorway. Ilya wondered how long his friend had been standing there, whether he’d heard the entire conversation. Judging by the brief, thoughtful look on his face, he’d probably heard enough.
“Look who’s back,” Ilya muttered, and a short time later, it felt a little easier to be in the kitchen.
Ilya didn’t mind if the attention shifted away from him a bit; it helped him calm down a little, breathe a little easier.
~~
It was a few months later when they visited Shane’s parents again. Shane had actually thought it would do Ilya some good to spend a little time alone with his parents. A cold push into the water so he could warm up to them.
And while that was true with his mother, Ilya still seemed strangely nervous around David.
At first, Shane hadn’t thought much of it. One trait he hated about himself was overthinking unnecessary things and then being completely oblivious to other things. This time, he was glad he’d noticed.
It started when the two of them were alone in Shane’s cottage. They were just fooling around, tackling each other on the soft bed and teasing one another. During a brief truce, Shane had moved his elbow a little too quickly to turn toward Ilya, his hand clenching into a half-fist in the process.
It was the first time Ilya had seriously flinched from him. Shane had wanted to laugh at first, but then he’d seen Ilya’s eyes, his expression in that brief moment.
Which revealed something both old and childlike. An old, fleeting fear.
Ilya had quickly changed his expression, stifling Shane’s brief start with a tackle. And even though it bothered him, his worries were quickly pushed to the back of his mind, thanks to Ilya’s kisses, which became the focus of all his brain functions.
Weeks later, however, Shane was reminded of that situation again.
Ilya was standing at the grill on the terrace, while Shane and Yuna were not far away at the table, setting out plates, sauces, and other items. With a quick glance, Shane had checked to see how his friend was doing. Ilya seemed content, the corners of his mouth turned up, his posture focused. The evening sun shone pleasantly down on them.
It was when Shane’s father came outside that Ilya became slightly more nervous. His shoulders rose just ever so slightly. A detail that probably hadn’t been noticed by anyone else, but to Shane, Ilya was like a research project that he wanted to analyze and understand one hundred percent.
“Thanks for watching over the grill, Ilya,” David said, stepping up beside him to take over.
Ilya flashed him a quick smile, and then it happened.
Shane’s father patted Ilya on the shoulder. It wasn’t hard, but it was enough to surprise Ilya and make him flinch. It was strong enough that not only Shane but also his father noticed. Ilya had just turned around at that moment and hadn’t seen the hand coming down on his shoulder.
When Shane sought eye contact with his friend, Ilya’s eyes were slightly widened, startled by his own reaction.
“I’ll get something to drink,” Ilya said, clearing his throat. “It’s pretty hot by the grill.”
David and Shane watched with equal confusion as Ilya briefly retreated into the house, nervously rolling his shoulders as if they were tense.
“I think I’ll go talk to him,” Shane began, and David nodded.
Yuna, meanwhile, hadn’t noticed the situation at all, so Shane only heard the beginning of a curious question before he disappeared into the house.
~~
“Everything okay?” Shane asked as soon as he ran into Ilya in the kitchen.
Ilya sighed and ran both hands over his face. Sweat had clung to his curls, which looked even redder than usual in the setting sun. Shane wanted nothing more than to plant a kiss on every part of his face.
“I’m not used to this,” Ilya admitted, and Shane stopped.
For a moment, he didn’t really understand what the other guy was trying to say. Ilya seemed to realize this, seemed a little ashamed of his words or thoughts, or struggling to find the words he wanted.
“Having a…good dad,” Ilya admitted haltingly, the last words followed by a resigned sigh.
The words felt as if someone had taken his heart and thrown it against the wall at high speed. The air had been squeezed out of his body. When Shane connected this sentence to all the previous situations, everything made a little more sense.
Ilya’s nervousness around David, his questions, and a pat on the shoulder. As if they could all be secret attacks. Because Ilya had never learned otherwise—his father had been that way.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know…” Shane didn’t know what he was getting into with those words.
“It’s okay, how would you know? I don’t really talk about it.” There was amusement in Ilya’s voice.
Shane didn’t understand why the other guy still felt like laughing. His father had probably hit him, insulted him often, or tried to scold him for things he had no control over, like his team dynamics. He felt as if he were having a panic attack on his boyfriend’s behalf.
He didn’t know much about comforting people. Shane wasn’t really good at finding the right words or knowing how to act when someone else was feeling down. Those were still social skills that were terribly hard to learn.
So instead of saying anything, he walked over to Ilya and took him in his arms. To his surprise, Ilya quickly melted into the embrace, letting himself be completely comforted by Shane for a moment. Shane tried to absorb all the nervousness and confusion that this was for Ilya, to take it into himself or at least share it so that it would be less of a burden for Ilya.
“I love you,” Shane murmured, kissing Ilya’s warm neck. “I can imagine it’s hard, but you don’t have to be afraid of my parents. Especially my boring dad.”
That made Ilya laugh.
“It’s just hard to know how to act,” Ilya murmured into the embrace.
“I don’t think you have to know right away,” Shane suggested, playing with Ilya’s curls with a few fingers. “It might be a process.” "
They stood there like that for a moment, in the kitchen. From outside, they could hear the muffled conversation of Shane’s parents and the radio announcing the news. You could smell the sausages on the grill from here.
“Thank you,” Ilya whispered into the silence, and Shane pulled his head back just enough to look at the other.
“Not for that,” he said, and he pressed a kiss to his lips, which turned into a few more, longer ones.
Ilya hadn’t always had it easy. But maybe here, in Shane’s family, he would find a little piece of what he’d missed out on before. Shane could give him a safe family and love—at least, that’s what he hoped.