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David gently closes the door to Shane’s cottage.
It’s a few days before the off season, and he wanted to do a quick walkthrough to check that everything was working and nothing needed repairs before Shane and Ilya came for the summer. David knows that Shane is meticulous about his cottage maintenance, and more than capable of handling it himself, but he’s still David’s son, and sometimes it’s nice to make sure that everything is proper for him and Ilya.
(David may or may not be sneaking in some of the good vodka & ice cream he knows Ilya likes as well).
As David steps into the kitchen, he’s startled by a faint noise, sounding like voices drifting through the cottage. He shakes his head once, thinking he’s hearing things, before moving in further to place his loot in the freezer. After he’s gotten the vodka & ice cream situated he straightens, and hears the muffled noise again, undeniably there this time. He moves deeper into the cottage, towards the bedrooms, calling his son's name gently.
Shane and Ilya weren’t due at the cottage for another few days, and you’d think that after last time, David would’ve learned his lesson but no, he had not.
He stops in front of the bedroom door and raises his hand to knock, when unmistakably, a moan filters through. Then a whimper, followed by a “please daddy, more” that has David standing incredibly still, frozen to the spot, scared to make a noise .
When he realizes that it’s Ilya’s voice, pitched to almost a growl, responding “good boy, taking it so well, want daddy to fuck you harder?”
He bolts.
David drives back to his and Yuna’s cottage on autopilot, brain replaying what he heard on a loop, like a VHS that just keeps rewinding and replaying the same part. He walks through the front door, footsteps heavy, and eyes glazed over in abject horror. He drops heavily into one of the chairs at the dining table, and as Yuna emerges from the kitchen, she takes one look at him and asks what’s wrong.
“Am I a bad dad?” David asks hoarsely.
Yuna's reassurances fall on deaf ears, and she can’t help but wonder what happened to put her husband into this catatonic state.
There’s the crunch of gravel in the driveway, and Yuna looks up and out the window worriedly.
Recognizing Shane’s vehicle, she lets out the breath she didn’t realize she was holding.
She places her hand on David’s shoulder, shaking him gently as she let’s him know the boys are here. When Shane and Ilya announce their presence by calling out for them, and end up standing in the kitchen entrance, Ilya slightly behind Shane and oddly guilty looks on both their faces, she has a sudden rush of Deja Vu to the day David first caught them at Shane’s cottage.
Shane opens his mouth first, clearly trying for casual and missing by a mile.
“Hey, Dad. Mom.”
David makes a sound that might have once aspired to be a greeting. It dies somewhere in his throat.
Ilya, meanwhile, has gone pink all the way to the ears.
Yuna’s eyes narrow.
“Oh no,” she says slowly.
Shane winces immediately. “See, that reaction right there is why we wanted to get here before—”
David suddenly stands so fast his chair scrapes violently across the floor.
“I am so sorry,” he blurts.
The room goes silent.
Shane blinks. “What?”
David points vaguely in Shane’s direction without actually looking at either of them. “I should have called first. I know that. I knew you weren’t supposed to be there yet and I still just— I went in to check the plumbing and put groceries away and then—” He breaks off, face turning a shade Yuna usually only sees after three glasses of wine and a political argument. “I heard things.”
Ilya makes a tiny strangled noise and folds into himself like he’s trying to disappear behind Shane’s shoulder.
Shane closes his eyes. “Oh my god.”
“And I don’t judge you,” David says quickly, horrifically earnest now that he’s committed himself. “Your private life is your business. Entirely your business. Very healthy. Wonderful, even. You’re adults. Mature adults. Extremely adult adults.”
“Dad,” Shane says weakly.
“I just feel,” David barrels onward, “that perhaps no son should ever hear— no, sorry, no father should ever hear—”
“Oh my god,” Shane repeats, louder this time, dragging both hands down his face.
Yuna finally puts the pieces together.
Her expression transforms with astonishing speed from concern to comprehension to absolute delight.
“You walked in on them again,” she says.
David looks betrayed. “Why are you smiling?”
“Because this is the second time.”
Yuna loses the battle within herself and snorts.
All three men look at her in betrayal.
“What?” she says weakly, laughing harder now despite herself. “I’m sorry, but this is objectively funny. David, you walked into their cottage unannounced again. At some point this becomes your fault.”
“My fault?” David says, aghast. “I was bringing groceries!”
“The vodka was appreciated,” Ilya says quietly, still not making eye contact.
David points at him like he’s been personally attacked. “You do not get to speak to me right now.”
“I said thank you!”
“I don’t want gratitude from the man who called my son ‘good boy’!”
Ilya has now fully hidden his face in Shane’s shoulder. Shane himself looks like he’s considering walking onto the ice at the rink and letting the Zamboni run him over.
Yuna, entirely unhelpfully, is still laughing.
“Yuna.”
“You said,” she gasps, pointing at him, “‘Am I a bad dad?’ like you traumatized our son.”
“I probably did at some point for this to happen.”
“No, sweetheart, you overheard your son having sex.”
“With— with terminology.”
Shane groans. “Can we not say terminology like it’s a war crime?”
David rounds on him with the wounded dignity of a man who has suffered greatly. “I heard you call him daddy.”
Silence.
A loon call echoes from outside.
Shane stares at his father for a long moment before muttering, “Cool. Awesome. Great talk.”
Ilya finally speaks, voice muffled. “I can move back to Russia.”
“You are not moving back to Russia because your boyfriend’s father accidentally overheard dirty talk,” Yuna says firmly, though she’s still visibly trying not to laugh again.
David sits back down heavily and covers his face with both hands.
“I brought you ice cream,” he says to no one in particular.
That actually gets Ilya to peek up a little. “It was my favorite flavor. I saw next to vodka. Thank you.” Ilya nods sagely, tucking his face back into Shane’s shoulder
David nods miserably.
The sincerity somehow makes everything worse.
Shane drops into the chair across from David with the exhausted air of a man accepting his fate. “Okay. We all need to survive this conversation so let’s establish some boundaries.”
“Yes,” David says immediately, still not uncovering his face. “Excellent idea.”
“Boundary one: you knock before entering my cottage.”
“Agreed.”
“Boundary two: if you hear something horrifying, you leave immediately and we never discuss it.”
David lowers his hands just enough to look at Shane, face pulling a pout that looked out of place on the older man.. “I did leave immediately.”
“After hearing too much, apparently.”
“That was not my fault!”
“You stood outside the door!”
“I froze!”
Yuna wipes tears from her eyes. “To be fair, that does sound traumatic.”
“Thank you,” David says.
“You’re still overreacting.”
“I don’t think I am.”
Shane sighs deeply. “Dad. You are acting like you uncovered state secrets instead of finding out your adult son has a sex life.”
“It’s not the sex life,” David says. “It’s the specifics.”
Ilya makes another tiny dying sound.
Then, unexpectedly, Shane starts laughing.
It slips out suddenly, sharp and helpless, until he’s bent forward in his chair. A second later Yuna joins in again, and after a brief, doomed attempt at maintaining dignity, even Ilya starts laughing too, embarrassed and red-faced.
David watches all three of them like they’ve betrayed him personally.
“This family is cruel.”
“You’ll recover,” Yuna says fondly.
“I will not.”
“You absolutely will,” Shane says. “You’re dramatic, not dying.”
David looks at his son for a long moment, exasperated beyond measure, before finally shaking his head.
“From now on,” he mutters, “I’m announcing my visits three business days in advance.”
“Probably smart,” Shane says.
“Also,” David adds with a gravity far too serious for this situation, “I never want to hear the word daddy again.”
Ilya immediately chokes on his own laughter.
Shane drops his forehead onto the table with a loud thunk.
And Yuna, utterly delighted now, says sweetly:
“Well that one might be difficult.”