Chapter Twenty-Six
Ilya bounced on the balls of his feet and felt the dock bob in the water beneath him.
“Is this the dock that you do yoga on?” he asked.
“No, I don’t do yoga on here. This was just where the camera crew asked me to...wait. Did you watch that thing?”
“Yes. Was great. I needed help sleeping.”
“You’re an asshole.”
They watched in silence as a couple of ducks swam by. This was what passed as entertainment here in the middle of nowhere.
It was late morning and the day was already hot. Shane, like Ilya, was wearing only shorts. They had slept late after keeping each other up most of the night.
The sun shone on every inch of Shane: his skin, his hair, his freckles. He looked so achingly beautiful and happy.
It was a shame that Ilya was going to ruin it. A shame, but there was no choice about it: Shane Hollander was standing on the edge of a dock, and now his back was turned to Ilya. Like an idiot.
“How’s the water?” Ilya asked.
“What?”
That was all the warning Shane got before Ilya pushed him off the dock with both hands. Shane let out most of a “motherfucker” before his head submerged beneath the dark water.
When he popped back up, he continued to splutter and swear as Ilya doubled over with laughter.
“Fuck. You!” Shane yelled, and he punctuated it with a mighty sweep of his arm that sent a wave of water at Ilya. It mostly hit Ilya’s calves.
“Asshole!” Shane yelled.
Ilya ran off the end of the dock and plunged into the water in a perfect cannonball, right next to Shane. As soon as his head was above water again, he splashed Shane right in the face, just for good measure.
Shane tried to punch his shoulder, but Ilya grabbed his wrist and pulled him closer. He kissed him quickly, and Shane pushed him hard in the chest.
“What if my phone had been in my pocket?” Shane complained.
“It wasn’t. You left it on the table. On the deck.”
“Well...”
Ilya kissed him again. It was a little awkward to do when they were both treading water. Shane tasted like cool, fresh water.
As if to prove that it was still perfectly safe and functioning, Shane’s phone started ringing in the distance.
“Uh-oh.” Ilya smirked.
“It’s fine. I don’t need to answer it.”
“No.” He kissed Shane again, and this time he turned them so he had Shane’s back pinned against the end of the dock.
It was probably very uncomfortable for Shane, but he didn’t seem to mind.
They kissed enthusiastically, and Ilya planted his hands against the wood of the dock on either side of Shane’s shoulders.
Shane, to Ilya’s surprise, wrapped his legs around Ilya’s waist and pulled him tighter against him.
Ilya loved these rare moments that Shane was able to get out of his head and just let go. He loved that he could make Shane do that.
He loved Shane. God, he loved Shane.
They made out for a while like that before Shane reached back with both hands and hoisted himself up out of the water. Ilya quickly followed him. He pressed down on Shane, kissing him and forcing him to his back. He reached to grip Shane’s erection through his wet shorts.
“Someone could see. By boat,” Shane panted.
“Then keep a lookout.” Ilya plunged his hand into the waistband of Shane’s shorts and was rewarded with a delicious little whimper.
Shane’s phone rang again.
Shane tilted his head back to look in the direction of the phone. “Fuck off,” he yelled at it.
Ilya laughed and continued stroking Shane’s cock. He was rutting a bit against Shane’s thigh. The dock bounced vigorously in the water beneath them.
He nipped along Shane’s jawline, and kissed his smile. He didn’t think Shane was watching for boats at all.
“You like this, Hollander?”
“Yes. Yeah I... I’ve wanted this for so long.”
“Wanted what? Tell me.”
“You. Here. Outside like this.”
Ilya sucked in a breath. “What do you want me to do to you?”
“Anything. I don’t know. Everything.”
“Tell me one thing.” Ilya rocked harder and faster against the hard muscle of Shane’s thigh.
“I...thought about you...fucking me. Outside. On the deck. Or...against a tree.” His face flushed bright red, but Ilya smiled.
“Fuck, Hollander. You only had to ask.”
Shane gasped and arched his back. Ilya stroked him faster.
“Maybe we could canoe or something. Out to one of these little islands,” Ilya said, his lips brushing Shane’s ear. “Totally alone, and I’ll fuck you there, out in the open where no one will see.”
“Oh fuck. Fuck. Ilya.”
“Maybe someone will hear you. From their boat.”
“Ahh.”
The heat of Shane’s release mingled with the cold, damp fabric of his shorts. Ilya thrust a few more times against Shane’s leg and cried out as his own cock pulsed and spurted into his shorts.
He collapsed on top of Shane, panting.
Shane laughed breathlessly. “Wow. What the fuck?”
Ilya smiled and nuzzled Shane’s neck. “I don’t know. Couldn’t help it.”
“I can’t even remember why we came down to the dock in the first place.”
“Does it matter?”
Shane turned his head and kissed him quickly. “No.”
After a minute, Ilya pulled himself up into a push-up position over Shane, then quickly kissed him before sliding back into the water. Shane followed him, figuring it would at least clean his shorts a little bit.
They swam for a while longer before they both decided they were hungry and headed up to the house. Shane was just about to step through the sliding glass doors when Ilya grabbed his wrist and tugged him back toward him.
“Is it okay if I tell you I love you again?” Ilya asked. His crooked smile was adorably shy.
Shane smiled back. Hell, he probably beamed back. “It’s okay.”
Instead of saying the words, Ilya kissed him.
It was slow and deliberate, his tongue pressing against Shane’s own, his fingers resting delicately on Shane’s waist. Shane felt like his legs might give out on him.
He made a contented little noise and stepped in even closer, so he could feel Ilya pressed against every inch of him.
His hands slid over the lake-cooled skin on Ilya’s back, eventually finding their way into his damp hair.
Ilya huffed and tilted Shane’s head back, kissing him deeper and more possessively. Shane felt dizzy with happiness. To be held like this and kissed like this by the man he loved—the man who loved him back—here at the place he loved more than anywhere else in the world...
They both heard a noise.
They both whipped their heads around.
They both saw Shane’s dad standing inside the house, staring, frozen, at where they were wrapped up in each other on the deck.
For a moment, no one moved. No one made a sound. Everyone. Just. Stared.
Then, very quickly, Shane’s dad turned on his heel and walked toward the front door of the house. Shane let go of Ilya and said, “Shit!”
“Your father, yes?”
“Yes! Fuck. Shit. Okay...”
Shane held his head with both hands. “Fuck!”
“Should you—?”
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll just...you wait here.”
Shane walked quickly through the house to the front door. He opened it just in time to see his father’s car disappear down the wooded road.
He stood there for a few minutes, wearing nothing but the wet shorts that he had very recently ejaculated into and a look of pure panic.
“Shane?”
He heard Ilya calling him, but he couldn’t find his voice to respond.
“Hollander?” He felt a hand on his elbow. “He was already gone?”
“Yeah.”
They both stood there in silence. Shane assumed that Ilya, too, was letting the enormity of this moment wash over him.
“This is bad,” Shane finally said.
“You should go. Talk to him.”
“Yeah. Shit. Yeah, I should. Probably best to do it now.”
He heard Ilya snort behind him.
“It’s not funny!” Shane snapped at him.
“A little funny.”
Shane turned around, ready to glare at him, but when he saw Ilya’s face he started laughing too.
“Jesus Christ,” he said. “So much for easing them into it.”
Ilya laughed harder. “Maybe he did not notice?”
They both cracked up. It was pure nerves, but Shane laughed until his eyes watered. His plan had been to tell his parents—soon—that he was gay. He had planned to give them time to digest that, and then he would tell them—eventually—that he was in a relationship. That he was in love.
And then, once all of that had settled with them, he would drop the real bombshell.
Now everything was happening in the exact opposite order.
“What the fuck am I going to tell them? So, you’re probably wondering why I was making out with Ilya Rozanov...”
“Do you want me to come with you?”
Shane was surprised by this offer. Did he want that? Would that make things even more awkward? He certainly felt like he could use the support.
“I don’t know. Would you really do that?”
Ilya took his hand and squeezed. “Yes. If it helps.”
Shane nodded. “It might. It will be awkward as hell, but... I’d like you to be there, I think.”
“Okay.”
“We should probably get dressed first.”
“Yes.”
They got dressed quickly. Shane put on a T-shirt from a charity hockey camp he helped coach last summer, just to remind his parents that he was a good and normal person.
Ilya was wearing a Boston Bears T-shirt. Shane made a face. “That’s not going to help.”
“Oh, do they not know I play for Boston?”
Shane rolled his eyes. “Come on. Let’s get this over with.”
The drive to Shane’s parents’ cottage took about ten minutes, but it seemed way, way longer this time.
“Okay,” Shane said as he parked behind his father’s car. “Just...let me do the talking.”
“No problem.”
“Fuck, maybe you should wait in the car.”
Ilya raised an eyebrow at him.
“No,” Shane said. “No, never mind. Come on.”
He exited the car and Ilya followed. Shane wondered if his parents were watching them through a window.
He didn’t bother to knock. He never did, with them. He opened the door and said, as calmly as he could, “Hello? It’s me. It’s... Shane.”
His parents stood from where they had both been sitting on the couch. It was clear that his dad had told his mom what he’d seen.
“Shane?” his mother said. She said it like she’d never heard the word before.