Archive of Our Own

“Oh, look how cute you are, Maksim,” Ilya said through pursed lips as he applied sunscreen to the toddler’s face with much resistance.

Shane watched as his husband prepared their son for his first swim lesson. Maksim looked precious in his swim shirt and shorts, both patterned with bright yellow triangles on an orange background. His sandy blonde curls, the same as his Papa’s, were combed back, and he flailed his chubby arms as Ilya continued to rub sunscreen on his freckled face. Ilya was unbothered, dodging tiny hands as he finished up.

Shane’s heart was going to burst from how cute the scene was, a feeling he’d experienced almost every day since Maksim was born two years ago.

Truly, they hit the jackpot with Maksim. He was perfect in every way. Shane’s pregnancy was hard on him, as Maksim was a large baby (his parents were both 200+ pound, 6 foot hockey players), but Shane would do it all over again just to have more Maksims in his life.

Maksim was the happiest boy, with chubby freckled cheeks and big brown eyes. He loved being chased by his dads, and loved snuggling with them when he tired out. He was obsessed with boats and fish and Peppa Pig, and of course, he loved hockey, just like his dads. He didn’t understand the game yet, but he liked to watch games on the couch with his Papa and yell and jump when a puck made it into the net, not caring which team had scored.

Other than his yelling at hockey games, he was a quiet child, not one for talking, even with his Daddy and Papa. He tended to use his face to convey his emotion, and pointed when he wanted something instead of asking for it. If he did speak, it was typically a whispered phrase of simple words, like “please” or “yes” or “no.” It had worried Ilya at first, but with a reminder from Shane that all kids grew at their own pace, he was reassured that Maksy would talk when he was ready.

Today, Maksim would be having his first swim lesson, and Shane was prepared for every possibility. He had researched instructors for months, but ended up choosing one Bood and Cassie had used for their son. They assured Shane that she was very patient and very discreet, and had years of experience, which made Shane feel confident in his choice. He had installed a pool fence and gate, with an alarm if it was ever opened without it being disarmed. He had even made sure that his son’s swimsuit was visible underwater if, God forbid, he was to ever go under and struggle to come back up. Shane was ready to go.

Ilya, however, was a little out of the loop when it came to what a swim lesson for a child entailed. Shane had withheld information out of concern that Ilya would cancel their lessons. Ilya was incredibly protective over Maksim, and after seeing many videos of swim lessons for children Maksy’s age, Shane knew this would be difficult for Ilya to watch. Hopefully, he had made the right decision in not telling Ilya the details.

“Don’t forget to put some on yourself, too,” Shane said with a smile, “You burn too easy to forget it today, the UV is high.”

Ilya looked at him fondly, and squeezed a dollop of sunscreen into his own palm, “Da, Shane, I will. But maybe you could help me with my back?” A mischievous grin spread across his face as he walked over to Shane by the front door.

Shane laughed and pushed him away gently, moving towards Maksim to straighten out his swimsuit and set him on the ground. “In your dreams.”

Maks took off to run clumsy laps around the living room couch, tripping over his own feet and giggling when he stumbled. Shane sat on their front room bench and sighed with a soft smile as he watched his son.

“He has no idea what’s about to happen.”

Ilya slowed down his application and turned toward his husband with a confused look on his face, “What do you mean? He will have fun. Ms. Laila will come over, get in the pool with him, splash a little bit, he comes out and all is well. He likes the water.”

Shane just gave him a tight smile, “Yeah, I know.”

Ilya, still with a confused look, turned away and continued to massage his skin, running up to chase Maksim around the couch.

Shane watched as they ran, and soon, Ms. Laila was knocking on the front door. He stood from his spot on their front room bench and moved to catch Maksim, lifting him up onto his hip. “Ilya, get the door please? I’m gonna talk to Maks for a second.”

“Sure, kotenok.”

Shane gave Laila a wave when Ilya opened the door, then looked at his son, who was panting and smiling big.

“Maksim, remember how Papa and I said you’re going to go in the pool today and learn how to swim?”

“Fish,” Maks whispered, puckering his lips to mime a fish face.

Shane laughed, “That’s right, you’ll swim like a fish. When you go in the pool today, Daddy and Papa will not go with you. Ms. Laila will be with you in the pool, and Daddy and Papa will just watch, okay?”

Maksim’s face scrunched up in confusion, and Shane felt like he was looking in a mirror. He knew he made a similar face when confused or frustrated. The toddler didn’t say anything, just turned to look at his Papa and Ms. Laila, who had joined them in the living room.

“Hello, Shane!” She exclaimed, and, a bit quieter, said, “Hi, Maksim. How are you today?”

Shane set the boy on the ground, with a bit of protest, and rubbed a hand across his shoulders to comfort him. Ms. Laila came towards them, and crouched down to be on Maksim’s level.

Laila was a kind woman, in her mid-thirties with dark brown hair and tan skin. She wore her hair back in a clip, and had moles that reminded Shane of his husband. Her smile was warm, and Shane could tell she was going to be a good match for Maks.

She pulled a bag off her shoulder and placed it between her and the toddler, brightening her face and speaking with an animated voice. “Maksim, would you like to look in my bag? I have so many pool toys in here! Maybe you could pick one to take with you when we get in the water.”

Shane couldn’t see his son’s face from here, but he knew he was a sucker for new toys, and could see him relaxing at the idea of getting to hold onto one while meeting this new person.

Maksim slowly walked closer to Ms. Laila’s bag and dug through its contents, coming up with a large fish toy. Shane wasn’t shocked, his son loved fish more than anything in the world, besides his dads.

Shane looked up to see his husband looking at him with a sweet smile and an arm extended out, inviting him to come stand beside him. He went over and tucked himself into Ilya’s side, and they watched together as Maks mimed the fish toy swimming with a huge grin.

“Wow, that’s an awesome choice, Maksim! I’m sure your fish will love to come in the water with us today! Why don’t we have your dads take us out to the pool, and we can start our lesson?” Laila had stood up again and picked her bag up off the ground, turning towards Shane and Ilya.

Maks walked over to his Daddy and Papa, and tugged on Ilya’s hand. “Pool, Papa,” he whispered.

Ilya chuckled and picked Maksim up, holding him on his hip. “Yes, son, let’s go to the pool.”

Ilya led everyone to the pool, with Shane and Laila walking behind him and Maksim. Shane could hear Ilya trying to coax Maks into saying the Russian word for pool, “basseyn”, without much luck.

“Thank you so much for coming out here to teach him. I know it’s a bit of a drive for you, and that it’s pretty strict for privacy reasons, so I’m sorry about that,” Shane explained to Laila as they walked through the backyard. Ilya had stopped by the pool steps, and they caught up to him.

“You’re totally fine, I understand. And you can trust me, I will be as discreet as necessary. My lips are sealed,” She mimed zipping her lips closed, making Maksim laugh and Shane relax. “I do want to say before we start, these first couple lessons can be tough for parents to watch, and you will probably want to step in and comfort him. I ask that you try not to, as it could distract him from the lesson or upset him more. It also does not help me gain his trust, which is important for future lessons. Do you guys have any questions for me before we get started?”

Shane looked warily at Ilya, who was looking just as confused as he had earlier, his mouth partially open and brows furrowed. “No, I think we’re good to go. Just so you know, he doesn’t talk very much, but he understands everything you’re telling him.”

Laila smiled kindly, “I figured that was the case. That’s totally okay, it shouldn’t affect the lesson at all. Ilya, if you don’t mind putting him on the pool steps, please? We’ll start there and work our way further in.”

Ilya startled from his confused trance and set Maksim down on the first step into the pool. “Listen to Ms. Laila, da? Daddy and I will be right over there watching.” He pointed to the covered loungers at the side of the pool, and brushed a few loose curls back on Maksim’s head. With a parting kiss to the forehead, he walked over to Shane, and the two went to sit on their loungers.

Shane could feel his husband’s eyes on the side of his face right as they sat, and did his best to ignore them by watching Maks and Laila sit on the steps.

“Shane?” He hummed and looked at Ilya. His eyes were mostly concerned, with a bit of frustration hidden in them. “Why does Laila speak like she is sending our son to war?”

Shane rolled his eyes. “Ilya, don’t be dramatic. He’s not going to war, he’s learning to swim. It might be scary for him at first, so big emotions are expected, that’s all,” he said with a shrug.

Ilya raised his brows, showing that he knew Shane was downplaying it. “Shane, if he cries too much, I’m pulling him out. I cannot sit here and watch him be scared without doing anything.” His face grew serious as he finished speaking.

Shane’s face grew serious as well. Ilya was not going to interrupt this process. “You will not take him out if he gets upset, Ilya. It’s important he learns this. This is for his safety. You can endure him crying for a couple lessons if the tradeoff is him knowing how to save himself should he fall in the pool, right?”

Ilya glowered at his husband, turning to watch Maksim with a grumble of “We have a pool gate” being said under his breath. Shane rolled his eyes, actually annoyed with his husband now, and turned his head to watch his son.

Laila had lowered herself a bit farther on the steps, leaving Maksim on the first one. She was pouring some water from a cup over Maksim’s legs and arms, working her way up towards his head.

Shane tensed as he watched Laila bring the cup above his son’s head. Maks hated water in his face. He loved being in the water, but the moment it touched his face, he was done. It was a meltdown every time.

Maksim tensed, too, having figured out what was about to happen. When the water fell onto his face, he scrunched his body and breathed out hard, blinking in shock. Laila was quick to jump in with praise, and went to do it again. The second time around, Maks cried before she even poured out her cup. He inhaled some water as it ran down his face and began coughing on top of his screaming. It was hard to watch.

Shane could feel Ilya tensing up with every scream, and turned his head slightly to look at him. Ilya was gripping the edge of his lounger tight, and his jaw was clenched as he huffed a loud breath out of his nose.

Yeah, Shane should have told him.

He opened his mouth to say something, apologize or explain himself, when Maksim grew even more upset. Through his screaming and sobbing, he managed to yell out two words.

“Papa! Daddy!”

Maksim cried for his dads in the most gut-wrenching voice, and Shane could see him begin to look around for them.

Abruptly, Ilya stood up from his lounger and stomped towards the house, with a quiet “fuck this” said under his breath. Shane tried to call out his name, but Ilya continued walking with a hand thrown back in Shane’s direction, as if to say, “don’t even try.” He reached the back door, and it slammed behind Ilya as he entered the house and disappeared from Shane’s vision.

The rest of the lesson went by terribly, and it was the hardest thing Shane had ever sat through. He wanted to follow Ilya and try to explain himself, but he knew if they both were gone, it would upset Maksim even more, who spent the rest of his time with Ms. Laila wailing as she walked around the shallow end with him in her arms and tried to distract him with various toys.

“Okay, Maksim, we are all done now! Daddy can come get you out of the pool.”

By the time Laila had waved Shane over to collect Maks, his nerves were completely shot. His skin felt tight on his body, buzzing with tension, his ears rang loudly, and his head began to ache with an impending migraine. Sitting through twenty minutes of your son scream-crying was not easy on the system.

He took a shaky breath in and stood up on wobbly legs, walking to Maksim and scooping him up in his Peppa towel. Maksim grew quieter as Shane held him and rubbed him dry, but still cried softly and trembled in his daddy’s arms. Despite his cries, Shane was soothed by the weight of his son in his arms, pressing against his chest. He let out a slow breath, and turned to Ms. Laila where she was towel-drying off.

“I’m so sorry about this. You’re awesome, dealing with that. I’m sorry,” Shane rambled. He never should’ve signed Maksim up for this. Was he traumatizing his child? Would this be a story his son would recount in the future as the moment he lost trust in his dad?

Yeah, so one day, when I was two, my dad gave me to a random stranger, and we went in the pool. She poured water in my face and made me cry, and my dad just watched from his seat on the poolside. How cruel is that?

What was he thinking?

He blinked harshly to refocus on the conversation, and saw Laila looking at him with a kind smile and pitying eyes. “It’s okay, Shane. I’ve been doing these lessons for years, this is very typical for a first lesson, given his age. We just have to keep working to get him comfortable.”

“Right, I know. I’m still sorry. I should’ve told you he would react like that.”

Laila wrung water out of her hair and started packing her bag up.  “Shane, it really is okay. We’ll work through it, yeah?”

Shaned nodded and let out another deep breath. Maksim had settled down a bit, now relaxed in his daddy’s arms with his head on his chest. Shane could feel the water from his swimsuit soaking through his own shirt, and winced at the chill on his skin, the cling of the wet fabric.

“Okay, thank you, Laila. We’ll see you on Wednesday, yeah?”

“Yep, I’ll be here! Bye Maksim, you did an awesome job today!”

Maks gave her a glare as she patted his back. Laila just laughed and headed towards the house.

“Wait, Laila?” Laila turned around at Shane’s voice with a curious look. “Would you mind going around the house instead of through? Would you just use the gate, please? I would just rather not have any water getting tracked through the house.” Shane cringed at his own request. It was probably rude, but the thought of wet footprints on the clean wood floors and the plush rug made Shane want to scratch at his skin until all the bugs creeping underneath it came crawling out and marched home.

God, Shane was awful. He traumatized his son, he probably traumatized this poor woman, and now he was asking her to walk around instead of through their house because he couldn’t handle wet footprints? He was awful.

“Of course, Shane, I understand.” Laila smiled and steered toward their fence gate, leaving Shane and Maksim standing by the pool.

Shane looked down at his son, whose eyes were drooping with exhaustion. All the screaming probably wore him out. “Okay, bud, let’s get out of these wet clothes, yeah? Let’s go find Papa and take a bath.”

Maks nodded emphatically and pouted up at his dad. “Papa,” he whispered miserably.

Shane’s eyes began to burn. This was the worst day.

He cradled his son’s head to his chest and walked slowly towards the back door.

------

Ilya stood at his kitchen island, staring blankly at the grayish-white granite countertop. He ran through the events of the day in his head, thinking about how stupid he was for walking out of the lesson. Shane was right, this was important. Maksim needed to learn to swim so he could be safe in the future, and Ilya needed to learn how to let Maksim be upset for the same reason.

It was just hard. To sit and watch him be upset, to not do something to help him. Maksim was his angel on earth, his favorite person in the world (tied with his husband, of course). Ilya’s goal was for Maksim to never want for anything; he never wanted any unpleasant feeling to last longer than it took to settle him down.

Watching him scream and sob for his dads was impossible for Ilya to do, and it killed him that he couldn’t endure the crying for his son. He couldn’t suck it up and sit through it, and so, like a coward, he walked away instead. He let his son see him walk away while he cried out for him. Would that be a moment that would stick in Maksim’s mind, a memory that remains clear even as he grows?

Yeah, so one day, when I was two, my Papa gave me to a random stranger, and we went in the pool. She poured water in my face and made me cry, and he just walked away and left me there. How cruel is that?

Ilya could feel tears filling his eyes as he thought about this, but a slam of the back door pulled him back to reality. He rubbed a quick hand over his eyes and turned to see Shane and Maksim by the door. Shane had set Maksim down and stripped his wet clothes off, wrapping him in his towel again. He noticed Ilya watching them and let out a long breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said, turning his eyes to Maksim as he spoke to Ilya. “Would you do his bath, please? I would, but I just need to get out of these wet clothes.” He shrugged at the end of his question, and Ilya could see he was embarrassed by his request.

Ilya could also see how tense his husband was. His shoulders were drawn up towards his ears, and his hands had a slight tremble as he brushed them through Maksim’s curls. He wanted to apologize for walking out, to pull Shane tight to him and squeeze all his worry out. That wouldn’t help now, though. Now, Shane needed to reset, maybe shower, wash away his tension. Later, when Maksim had finally gone to sleep and the house calmed, he could hold him.

“Da, of course.” He walked over to Maksim, scooping him up and cradling him in his arms. “Are you ready for bath? Vanna? Wash off all the icky pool water?”

Maksim nodded and wrapped his tiny arms around his Papa’s neck. Ilya let out a relieved sigh, at least his son didn’t completely hate him. Now, he just needed to make up for leaving him earlier. He needed to ensure that Maksim would have so much fun with him, he would completely forget that Ilya ever walked away from him.

After carrying Maks up the stairs and to the bathroom attached to Maksim’s room, he set his son on the plush bathmat and opened their cabinets. Every bath toy they owned was put into the tub as it filled with warm water, and a generous amount of bubble solution was poured in as well. Bath crayons were laid across the side of the tub. Bath fizzers sat beside them, ready to be thrown in when Maks was ready.

Maksim watched with heavy but curious eyes as his Papa rushed around the bathroom. Ilya looked to him with a big smile on his face, holding his hands out to him. “Ready for best bath ever, baby?”

Maksy smiled and stood up, tripping over his towel as he ran into his Papa’s arms. Ilya set him in the warm water of the tub, and the boy squealed when he saw how fun his bath was. He immediately spotted the bath fizzers and threw them all into the water, giggling as they bubbled and colored the water. Each toy was played with as Maksim enacted water battles and deep-sea dives.

Ilya watched on as his son played gleefully. Maksim was happy now, and hopefully forgetting about Ilya’s earlier departure.

The rest of the bath went smoothly, with only a small hiccup when Ilya tried to rinse the boy’s hair (it took a lot of coaxing and promises that Papa would make sure no water touched Maksim’s face). Despite his excitement, Maksim managed to keep most of the water in the tub, which Ilya counted as a win.

Ilya lifted him out of the tub and stood him on the bathmat, wrapping him in yet another Peppa towel. “Did you have a fun bath? Vanna?”

Maksim nodded sharply. “Da,”

Ilya grinned and kissed the boy’s cheek. “Good job, malysh.”

After Maksim was dry and dotted with goosebumps from the cold air, Ilya applied lotion to his soft skin and put him in pajamas. Tonight, his pajamas were patterned with red and yellow fish, which prompted Maksim to make his fish face once again. Ilya just laughed and brushed his thumb across the boy’s freckled cheek.

“Moya rybka,” he mumbled with a small smile, guiding Maksim towards the counter. He picked him up under his armpits and plopped the boy down on the countertop, right in front of their bathroom mirror. “Time for hair, da?”

Maksim nodded and grabbed his comb off the counter, handing it to his Papa.

Ilya began combing through Maksy’s wet hair. His typical sandy blonde curls were darker from the water that clung to them. He looked so much like Shane like this, dark hair, freckles, dark eyes. It was precious.

“Maksim, Papa would like to talk about your swimming today. Did you have fun?”

Maksim’s eyes grew a bit dim, and he shook his head, some water flinging onto the counter from the bounce of his hair. “Sad.”

Ilya nodded understandingly. “I know, it was very hard, yes? You don’t like to have water on your face. But it is good to have water on your face. It means you will be able to swim, like fish. Rybka.”

Ilya could see the wheels turning in Maksim’s head, his brows furrowing making him resemble his dad even more. Ilya smiled at his son’s reflection.

Maksim looked at his Papa in the mirror. “Safe?” He whispered.

A quiet chuckle escaped Ilya. His boy was so smart, so perceptive.

“Yes, baby, it will help you be safe. That is why Papa and Daddy let you cry with Ms. Laila. So that you can learn and be safe in the water.”

He set the comb down and turned Maksim around to face him. His knees popped as he crouched to be eye level with his son.

“Papa is sorry for walking away while you were crying, Maksim. That was not kind. Papa was scared, like you were scared. Next time, we will both be brave, yes?”

Maksim’s big brown eyes watched Ilya’s lips as he spoke, then looked at his eyes with so much love, Ilya’s chest began to swell with affection. Maks leaned over and kissed his Papa’s cheek, then pulled away and nodded his head.

“Brave, Papa.” His tiny voice brought tears to Ilya’s eyes as he brushed back a curl that had sprung loose.

“Thank you, moya rybka. Ya tebya lyublyu.”

“Looboo.”

------

Shane sat quietly on the couch, following a muted hockey game on the living room TV. He wasn’t really watching it, mainly tracking the puck on the ice without caring who had it, who stole it, which net it ended up in.

He ended up showering in hopes of regulating, and it kind of worked. Shane had washed off quickly, and spent the rest of his shower beating a fist against his chest until he felt less like it would break open with upset. It was a horrible habit, hurting himself like that. He didn’t do it often, but on the rare occasion he did, he was always left with bruises and marks from the beating. But sometimes, it felt like the only way to feel normal again, if he pounded all the worries and weirdness out of his body.

Ilya always hated it when he did that. Not in a cruel, “What’s wrong with you?” “Why are you like this?” way, but because he didn’t like to see Shane hurt, especially when he did it to himself.

“It upsets me to see you like that,” he told Shane once, “I don’t always know how to help you when you feel this way.”

Shane understood. He didn’t know how to help himself either.

All he knows is he already upset his husband by bombarding him with this swim lesson, and now he was going to upset him more when Ilya realized what he’d done in the shower.

“Daddy,” A quiet voice spoke from the top of the stairs. Shane turned his head slowly and saw Maksim standing with Ilya, his wet curls slicked back and face shiny with lotion. Instinctually, he turned his body and opened his arms, inviting his son to join him on the couch.

“Come here, Maksy,” Shane whispered back, waiting patiently as Maksim took each stair one at a time. Once he reached the bottom of the steps, he walked quickly to Shane and climbed into his lap.

Shane settled him onto his chest, wincing a bit at the weight on his tender skin. He looked quickly to Ilya, hoping he hadn’t noticed it, but the sadness in his eyes as he stood by the couch showed he had.

Shane just shook his head and turned his eyes back to the game. Maksim settled in his lap, laying his ear right over his daddy’s heart and letting out a deep sigh. Ilya joined them on the couch, sitting by Shane and putting a hand over his knee. A gentle squeeze from Ilya’s hold let Shane fully relax, expelling all his worries and allowing him to enjoy the calmness that had washed over them all.

They watched the last period of the game in silence, one of them occasionally letting out a deep sigh. It had clearly been a hard day for everyone.

Shane had unconsciously drifted closer to Ilya, leaning his head onto his husband’s strong shoulder. When the broadcast ended, Ilya shifted underneath Shane and sat up fully.

“Are my boys hungry? We should eat something before we sleep. I think we are all due for early bedtime tonight.”

Truthfully, Shane wasn’t hungry at all. The events of the day had stripped him of his appetite, leaving him feeling hollow. But he had upset Ilya enough for one day. He could eat something. Just to make sure nothing else went wrong.

Shane nodded silently and stood with Maksim still in his arms. “Time to eat, baby.”

Maksim picked his head up and looked around with bleary eyes as Shane sat at the island with the boy in his lap.

“I can make something for myself, Ilya. You don’t have to do it.”

Ilya had already started on a simple yogurt bowl for Shane and Maksim to share, a safe food for both. He shook his head, and his eyes bore into Shane’s, a silent message of Please let me do this. “Is okay, I do not mind.”

Shane just sighed and rubbed a hand up and down Maksim’s back. He felt awful. After everything Shane did today, Ilya still wanted to care for him. Shane didn’t deserve this.

He would argue, but he knew how stubborn his husband could be. Once his mind was set on something, it was non-negotiable, especially when it came to Shane.

Shane and Maks sat patiently as Ilya sprinkled berries and granola into their yogurt bowl and slid it over to them. They ate as Ilya prepared his own dinner, a turkey-cheese-lettuce sandwich. No one had the energy for anything elaborate tonight.

Shane ate with Maksim, switching between taking bites of his own and feeding Maksim spoonfuls. He chuckled at himself as he did so.

Before they had kids, and while he was pregnant with Maksim, Shane swore he would never share food with his child. It was important for them to know they weren’t entitled to anything of Shane’s, and when it came to things like food or drink, Shane was not required or expected to share them. Some things were only Daddy’s or Papa’s, not Daddy-and-Papa-and-Maksim’s.

Shane did not know the persuasive powers of an absolutely adorable toddler. Looking at him with large brown eyes and chubby freckled cheeks, whispering, “Please?”, how was Shane supposed to say no?

Ilya finished making his dinner and sat next to them, resting a large hand on the back of Shane’s neck as they ate in silence.

Eventually, they all finished eating and set their dishes aside. Ilya turned to Shane.

“Do you want to put him to bed, or would you rather clean the kitchen and bathroom?”

Typically, whoever did bathtime cleaned whatever mess had formed in the house that day, and the one who skipped bathtime had to deal with bedtime. Shane could tell Ilya was trying to make things easier on Shane tonight.

A small part of Shane wanted to bare his teeth and fight, tell Ilya that I’m not a child, I’m capable of putting our son to bed. But he knew Ilya was not coddling him, only trying to soothe him.

He had done enough to Ilya today, though. There was no way he was going to stick him with the ordeal that was bedtime when he had already thrown bathtime at him.

“I can put him down, Ilya. It’s okay.”

Hesitation filled Ilya’s eyes, and Shane could tell he wanted to argue it. Luckily, Ilya just gave him a short nod, and leaned over to kiss Maksim’s head. “Goodnight, malysh. Ya tebya lyublyu.”

Maksim gave his Papa a clumsy kiss on his cheek and laid his head on Shane’s shoulder. Shane stood and gave Ilya a peck, then turned and made his way to the stairs.

------

Ilya pressed an ear to his son’s bedroom door as he listened in on Shane putting Maksim to bed.

Luckily, their simple dinner meant the kitchen didn’t need much work, and the bathtub only needed a rinse to remove any leftover bath fizzer or crayon residue. He had finished cleaning quickly, and took this chance to eavesdrop on tonight’s story time.

“Can Daddy talk to you before I read this book, Maksim?” Ilya debated walking away upon realizing Shane was having a serious talk with their son. Being as nosy as he was, he decided against it.

Maksim spoke quietly, so Ilya couldn’t hear his response. Shane continued, so he figured it was a yes.

“Your swim lesson was very hard today, wasn’t it? Did it make you sad when I didn’t come to help you? When I let you stay in the pool?”

 Silence followed, Ilya assumed Maksim gave Shane a nod.

“I know. That was hard for Daddy to do. I don’t like to see you cry. Do you know why I did it, though?”

Ilya could barely make out a quiet voice, then a surprised chuckle from his husband.

“That’s right, Maksim. So you will be safe. Ms. Laila helps you learn to be safe, so I let her teach you. Papa and I always love you, even when you are upset or scared.”

It was quiet once again, and then another chuckle, louder this time, rang out from Shane. “Yes, we can read now.”

Ilya headed to him and Shane’s bedroom across the hall, starting his routine to settle in for the night.

After rummaging through their dresser (which was shockingly unorganized, as he and Shane’s clothes had become their clothes after years of sharing), he decided to wear only a pair of sleep shorts to bed. He debated wearing a shirt, but based on the day Shane had, his husband would probably appreciate skin-to-skin contact tonight.

He headed to their ensuite and began his nightly routine. After washing his face, he began brushing his teeth. He stared at himself in the mirror, running through the events of the day as he cleaned his teeth.

His conversation with Maksim went well. He knew his son would forgive him, he was only two and could never see his Papa as anything but perfect. He’d probably already forgotten about the lesson entirely. Still, the reassurance that his son didn’t completely hate him was comforting.

It probably wasn’t good that he needed reassurance from a toddler, but. Whatever.

He really wanted to talk to Shane, though. He’s sure Shane is upset with him for walking out. He’s sure Shane is more upset with himself than anything. Hopefully, Shane would be willing to talk everything out when he got to their room. The conversation could wait until tomorrow, but Ilya would feel better to work through it all now.

His thoughts were interrupted by a quiet whimper behind him, and he jumped as he turned to see where the sound came from.

“Blyat! You scared me, Shane,” He mumbled through the toothpaste in his mouth. He spat it out, rinsing his toothbrush and setting it down before turning to look at his husband fully.

Shane was pitiful. His eyes were red with tears clinging to his lashes, and his bottom lip stuck out in a small pout that broke Ilya’s heart. His chest was rising and falling in an unsteady pace, with small huffs coming out of his nose from his attempt at holding his tears back.

Ilya could tell they were encroaching on a meltdown if he didn’t help Shane calm down.

He moved swiftly to Shane, pulling him to his chest and squeezing him in his arms. He rocked them back and forth on his heels as he moved the pressure up and down Shane’s arms and torso.

“My Shane, what has you crying?” He knew it was probably just build up from the day, all the stress and overwhelm bursting out at once, but it would help Shane to get his thoughts out instead of brewing on them.

Shane let out another whimper as he took a deep breath. “Your back.”

Ilya froze, his arms loosening from around his husband. What?

“What?”

“Your back is burnt. You asked me,” Shane whimpered and grabbed Ilya’s arms, pulling them tighter around him. “Squeeze, please. Please.” Ilya nodded and continued putting pressure on him. “You asked me, this morning, to put sunscreen on your back, and I said no and I pushed you away. And now, you’re-” He groaned and shoved his face against Ilya’s chest. Ilya could tell it was killing him to talk about his feelings right now.

“Shhh, it’s okay, I am listening. Tell me, please.”

Shane sighed and pulled himself out of his husband’s chest. He looked at Ilya’s chin as he spoke. “You’re burnt, from sitting outside for twenty minutes, and it would have taken me ten seconds to help you. I should have just helped you.” He shrugged and brought his gaze down to the floor.

Ilya could feel the burn now that Shane mentioned it. It was very mild, and he was sure if he looked in the mirror, it would only be a couple shades pinker than normal.

It wouldn’t help to bring that up, though. Right now, Shane was spiraling. Trying to get him to see rationally (Ilya hated to use that word) would only upset him more.

He’d learned that the hard way. Early in their relationship, Shane was upset about something Ilya can’t even remember now. Trying to comfort Shane, he’d softly said, “Kotenok, this is silly to be upset about, sweetheart.”

Shane’s crying stopped immediately, and his face went dark as he looked at Ilya. “Don’t say that. It’s mean,” he stated in a very serious tone.

After that, Ilya learned to let Shane think whatever was going through his brain, and offer solutions.

“It’s okay, moya lyubov. I am not upset with you for this. Would you like to help me now? We could get some aloe, you could put it on me?”

Shane finally let his tears fall at that, and a small sob escaped him. “Yes, please. I’m sorry.”

Ilya pulled him tighter to his chest and kissed his head. “Is okay, baby, I’m not upset. Go to the bed, please. I will get the aloe.”

Shane nodded and wiped his tears, pulling away from his husband and turning to walk to their bed. Ilya could see him putting his mask back on, watching him straighten his back and shake his hands out.

Ilya went into one of their cabinets and grabbed the aloe, closing it and walking to meet Shane at their bed.

Shane was sat on the edge of the bed, back straight as a rod and shoulders tight. He was staring blankly at the wall, eyes still watery with lingering tears.

“Shane,” He turned his eyes to Ilya, but seemed to be staring through him, “I will lie on my belly, you can sit on top and put it on.” He waved the aloe in the air and held it out to his husband.

When Shane felt this way, almost paralyzed with self-doubt, guilt, despair, it helped to have his actions put in the hands of someone else. For someone to tell him where to go, what to do or say. For someone to say, “This is what your job is, this is how you should do it.”

Ilya would do that now, to help Shane come out of his head.

Shane seemed to come back a little bit at Ilya’s words, and nodded as he stood and took the aloe from him.

Ilya went to the bed and laid down on his stomach, stretching his legs out before settling down. He felt the bed shift as Shane crawled to him, and he sighed when Shane’s weight settled on the small of his back.

He let Shane be quiet for a bit as he started rubbing the aloe on the top of his back, across his shoulders.

Shane’s hands were gentle as he massaged the cool gel across Ilya’s warm skin and tense muscles.  Ilya could feel the apology in his touch, and it broke his heart that Shane felt so bad for something so small. It was clear that something more was bothering him, but he would wait for Shane to tell him. It wouldn’t help to push.

He closed his eyes as he relaxed fully into the bed, Shane’s soothing hands sending him into a light sleep.

------

Ilya would have to push.

After Ilya had woken up from his cat nap to Shane sitting on his back quietly, with tears still in his eyes, he decided he needed to change methods.

“Shane, let’s swap, yes? You lay on your back, please, and I will lay on top.”

Shane sniffled and got off of Ilya, laying on his back next to his husband.

Ilya sat up and looked at Shane, realizing he was still dressed in his clothes from the day. This told Ilya just how distant Shane was from himself right now. On a normal night, Shane wouldn’t dare lay in their bed with “outside clothes” on.

“Shane, can I undress you?”

The man sat up wordlessly and lifted his arms, signaling to Ilya that it was okay. Ilya undressed him with care, squeezing his arms as he pulled his shirt off. Shane stood and settled his hands on Ilya’s shoulders where he now crouched at Shane’s feet. Ilya pulled his pants down and guided his feet out of them.

When he stood, he directed Shane to lay down again, and began setting up their room for the night. He put Shane’s clothes in the hamper, forgoing pajamas for him, and made sure their alarm clock was set.

Finally, Ilya turned on the lamp on his nightstand. He looked and found Shane lying on his back with the sheets over his legs.

Shane’s chest was visible from the way he was laying, and Ilya felt his heart break when he saw it.

On Shane’s chest, mainly around his sternum, there was faint bruising, a cruel mix of blue and purple above his heart. Around it, the skin was red and slightly swollen. It reminded Ilya of the bruises he’d get after a hard hit on the ice. The difference here is that those marks came from someone else.

These marks were pressed into Shane by Shane himself.

Ilya had known he would have some sort of bruising. After all these years together, he knew when Shane hurt himself. He’d seen his wince when Maksim laid across his chest.

It never got any easier to see, though. It wasn’t often that Shane did this, but it killed Ilya every time.

He sat on the edge of the bed, settling close to Shane’s side and reaching a hand towards the man’s bruised skin.

“Solnyshko,” He whispered lowly. He hesitated, watching Shane for any signs of unease, but Shane stared at Ilya with open, clear eyes.

Ilya’s fingers landed gently onto Shane’s sternum, and he traced the bruises with a feather-light touch.

The skin was warm with the rush of blood to the beaten area, and he could feel the faint swell of the punished surface.

“If I could, I would take this on for you. I would give you my heart to help you heal.”

He would. Sometimes, when Shane was having days like this, where he couldn’t see himself, Ilya would picture a trade of hearts.

Pulling his heart out of his chest, presenting it to Shane. Letting it pump between them.

“Take it,” he’d say, “Take it, please. Let my blood run through you, let it fill you with the care and adoration I have for you. Give me yours. I will bear it all, if it means the blood that pumps through you is kind and gentle. If it means your heart will hurt no longer.”

Telling Shane with words did not feel enough. Ilya wanted him to feel his devotion coursing through his veins, wanted him to taste it on his lips when he bit them, wanted him to watch it rise up his skin when he bruised.

He didn’t say any of this to his husband. Not right now. Right now, his body was here, but Shane was not. Right now, he needed to bring Shane back. Then he could give him his heart.

He got to his hands and knees on the bed, throwing a leg over Shane and crawling up his body. When his face met Shane’s, he took his chin between his pointer finger and thumb to make sure he couldn’t turn away.

“Let me have your eyes, Shane.” Shane slowly brought his eyes to Ilya’s. Ilya could see a bit more awareness in Shane’s gaze, and he hoped his weight could bring him back fully. “If it hurts you, when I lay down, you need to tell me. Your chest is bruised, and I don’t want to make it any worse. You will tell me if it hurts, yes?”

Shane processed that for a second, then nodded his head.

Ilya slowly lay down on top of his husband. They lined up perfectly, since Shane only had half an inch on him.

He settled all his weight down on Shane, and brought his face to the crook of his neck. The faint scent of his sandalwood body wash calmed Ilya’s racing thoughts. He pressed a light kiss to the smooth skin, and took a deep breath in.

Underneath him, he felt Shane’s chest decompress with a long sigh released. Shane’s arms wrapped around his torso, sliding one hand up and down his back while the other kneaded at the muscle of Ilya’s neck.

------

Shane came back to himself slowly. Ilya’s weight on top of him helped, like always, to return his consciousness to his physical body.

“I’m sorry about today, Ilya. I kind of just threw this super stressful thing at you with no warning. I should’ve told you it would be bad.”

Ilya jumped at his voice on top of him, and it made Shane chuckle a bit.

He felt much steadier after letting Ilya lay on him. His head felt clearer, his words no longer stuck inside his throat. Now, he was ready to talk.

“You are with me now?” Ilya asked, picking his head up to look Shane in the eyes. “You were gone a long time.”

The concern in his husband’s eyes and voice made Shane’s heart twist. “Yes, I’m here now. Thanks for helping me. I’m sorry you had to, though, I know today was hard for you, too.”

Knowing his husband, Ilya had no qualms with helping Shane ever. He was so giving, and would bend over backwards to make sure his loved ones were content. Still, Shane felt this incessant need to apologize, like the guilt sitting on top of his chest would crush him if he didn’t unload it.

Ilya sat up in Shane’s lap, giving one last squeeze to his arms before sliding off him and sitting against their headboard. Shane followed, sitting next to Ilya and pressing their arms together from shoulder to wrist. His fingers drew idle shapes on Ilya’s thigh.

“No sorries for that, is okay. Though you should say sorry for not telling me how torturous the lesson would be. That would have been nice to know before.”

Ilya said it with humor, but Shane still winced. “I know. I was just worried if I told you Maks would scream the whole time, you’d cancel the lesson or something. And I was really set on him doing this.”

The blonde man nodded. “I understand. I probably would have been wary. And I know this is important. We are on same page there.”

Ilya turned his head, and Shane met his eyes. “Is not only thing you are upset about, though. I know this for sure.”

Shane’s brows furrowed and he shook his head. Ilya was right, of course, but he was going to play dumb to avoid talking about his emotions anymore.

“No.” Ilya raised his eyebrows, showing he knew Shane was lying. “I mean, yeah, I’m kind of upset about the whole day now, but it’s okay.”

Ilya’s head shook now. “No, not okay. I never want my Shane upset, only happy.” His fingers came up to Shane’s face, pulling the sides of his mouth up to force a smile. Shane laughed and pushed his hands away.

Ilya’s face relaxed again. “Guessing game?”

“Guessing game” was something Ilya came up with to help Shane express what was bothering him when words were too hard to use. Ilya would throw something out, and Shane would confirm or deny if that was the issue.

He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

Ilya sat up more and turned his body to face Shane.

“I know this one already: You feel bad you did not prepare me more for lesson.”

Shane nodded, “Yes.”

“And you feel bad for not helping me with sunscreen, I know this, too.”

“Yes.”

“You feel bad for making Laila walk around our house instead of through.”

Shane looked away now. “You saw that?”

“No, but I know how you are about wet feet in the house, and she did not come through, so I put it together.”

Shane covered his face with his hands and groaned. “Am I awful for that? I feel awful.”

“No, I’m sure Laila understood. Look at me again, please.”

Shane dropped his hands and looked back at Ilya.

“You feel bad for hurting yourself. You feel bad that you didn’t respond in a way you find normal.”

Shane moved his gaze to Ilya’s lips. “Yes.”

“Shane, is okay to feel stressed after what you sat through. Maksim screamed for thirty minutes straight, and you pushed through to make sure he knew you were there. Braver than me. Anyone would have a hard time after something like that.”

Shane’s eyes turned to his lap. “Not everyone literally beats themselves up over it. It’s not something typical people do.” He made a gesture to his bruised chest to show his point.

Ilya just hummed and took Shane’s hand. “No, maybe not. Does not make you wrong, or horrible, or scary. You could never be wrong or horrible or scary to me.”

Shane nodded, “I know.”

A kiss was pressed to his chest, making him smile and let out a deep sigh. “I am sorry, too. I shouldn’t have walked away and left you out there.”

Shane shook his head. “It’s okay. No more apologies for tonight, please.”

Ilya laughed and picked his head up. “Yes, I agree. Let’s sleep now, da?”

“Da.”

They laid down, pulling the covers over their bodies. Shane pressed his chest to Ilya’s back, intertwining their feet and laying an arm over his torso. “Thank you for helping me.”

“Of course. Can I make one more guess before sleep?”

Shane snorted. “Sure.”

“You think one day, far in the future, Maksim will remember this day as the day his dads betrayed his trust and ruined his life. That he will hold this against us forever.”

Shane chuckled. This very real worry he’d had earlier now sounded ridiculous when said out loud. “How did you know?”

Ilya turned to him with a silly grin. “Because I was thinking same thing.”

Shane laughed and pressed a kiss to his husband’s cheek. “Go to sleep, you weirdo.”

"Ya tebya lyublyu, Shane."

"Ya tebya lyublyu, Ilya."