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All important conversations normally took place while they were lying down, and often in their bed.
“Are you texting? To Hayden?” Ilya muttered sleepily with his eyes closed.
“No, not texting. Surfing the net,” said Shane.
“M-m. What are you looking for?”
“Just reading about Russian names. I know that every name has a lot of variations, you have a different name for every occasion. I want to understand how they work.”
Ilya sat up and looked at Shane’s phone. “Why not ask me? You’ll need an expert opinion anyway.”
“What, you are good at onomastics as well?” jokingly asked Shane.
“I’m good at everyth… At what?! Oh, come on! Learned a new word five minutes ago and using it in your speech already! What a clever boy.” Ilya grumbled with feigned indignation. “At least I know more about my own name than some random American website.”
“Not American, Russian. I’m using Google-translate to read. Very convenient,” said Shane. When he noticed that Ilya was going to turn away, he immediately kissed him on the lips. “Be so kind and do share your expert opinion. Is Ilya a common first name?”
“Yeah, and it’s not shortened. Kind of formal, if you like. Anyone can call me Ilya. In Russia, people are often addressed differently. One name form is for documents and all that stuff, and another is for friends and family. The second one is sort of like a nickname, but not really. It’s still a first name, but shorter. That’s like… Oh, I don’t know, a pet name? Wait a sec,” and he quickly checked the word in the dictionary. “Ah, that’s called diminutive. Do you know what it is?” Shane nodded. He wasn't really sure, but he could look the word up in the dictionary, too. “So. The diminutive is for family and friends. Like — Tom and Jerry! Or — I can call Svetlana just Sveta or Svetka. They are technically all the same name. But my name has only one form.”
“That’s because your name is already short as it is? But the website says it has lots of variations.” Shane checked the list of names. “There’s Ilyukha, for example.”
“Ilyukha — that’s for bros.”
“So, if I feel like calling you Ilyukha, does it mean I’m your bro, too?” asked Shane, offering Ilya a fist-bump.
“Yeah, sure! No sex with bros, though. So you know.” And instead of fist-bumping Shane, he kissed his knuckles.
Shane laughed. “Noted! No Ilyukha then. What about others? Ilyusha? Ilyushka? Ilyushen’ka?”
“Let me think… My grammy called me Ilyusha. And my Russian teacher preferred Ilyushka. I wasn’t a perfect student, but she was still a nice old lady. It was... what do you call it? Affectionate?” Shane crossed out both Ilyusha and Ilyushka from his imaginary Potential Pet Name list right away, no matter how affectionate they could be. “As for Ilyushen’ka… It’s what Svetlana usually uses, especially when she wants something from me and knows that I’m not going to give in. Or when she suddenly decides that she hates me. ‘Ilyushen’ka, I’ll take your expensive car for a girls’ night. Ilyushen’ka, give me a foot massage. Ilyushen’ka, you’re a fucking moron.’ " Ilya’s impersonation of Svetlana was hilarious. But, obviously, Ilyushen’ka had to go as well. “Oh, and my teammates in Russia used to call me Ilyich. That was the worst, just total bullshit. You know who Ilyich was, da?
“No, why? Should I?” Was that a… hockey player?..
“Well, you know, like, Lenin, Russian revolution, communism?” Ilya looked at Shane, and he nodded. He did know, but… vaguely. “His name was Vladimir, and Ilyich was his…” Ilya clicked his fingers, fishing for the word, then gave up and grabbed his phone. “Ah! A patronymic! It’s sort of like a second name, but made out of your father’s.
“Do I get a patronymic too?”
“Yeah, sure, we don’t gatekeep patronymics. Your father’s name is David, so you’re Shane Davidovitch. That literally means Shane, David’s son.”
“But… Why Ilyich? Your father’s name was Grigory?.. How did you get Ilyich instead?”
“Just as I said, is bullshit. They used it for fun. I’m Ilya, so — Ilyich. Very few people associated it with Lenin, I’m not sure they knew who he was. I still didn’t like it. And now, if anyone calls me Ilya Grigoryevitch, it means that I’m in a… what do you call it? Sounds like medicament?… Ah, a predicament, da? Either I’m in trouble, or it’s some formal occasion. Or I’m in the embassy trying to get a Russian visa for my pretty boyfriend.
Shane couldn’t help but kiss Ilya for calling him that. Then he asked, choosing every word, “Do you think it’ll be possible? Not now, obviously, but one day? You and I, going to Russia, together?”
Ilya paused, obviously unsure. “I don’t know. Everything changes so rapidly.” He sounded serious, his eyes were sad. “I think it will… Or, rather, I hope it will.”
Shane wanted to crack a joke or at least say something to lighten the mood, but couldn’t think of anything. Ilya didn’t notice his hesitance and continued, “You know, if I could, if it was possible, I’d rather have a... matronymic, I guess? I’d be Ilya Irinovitch. Ilya, Irina’s son. Sounds nice.”
“M-m,” agreed Shane. “Do you want me to call you that?”
“What?.. Hell, no! Sounds like I’m still in trouble.”
Shane was silent for a moment, then said something he’d been pondering about for a long time, “What shall I call you then? Everyone has their own special name for you — except me.”
Ilya turned to Shane with his whole body.
“Is not true. You actually have a very special name for me.”
“No, I really don’t.”
Ilya huffed, then took his phone. In a couple of seconds Shane received a message from Lily, Yes, you really do.
Shane laughed. How could he have forgotten about Lily?
“Yeah, you’re right,” he smiled. “But it’s a girl name, isn’t it? Do you want me to call you by a girl name?”
“Well, maybe it is. Is my name, too. I remember mom saying that when I was just a toddler, I used to call myself Lily, or rather Lilya — the way the French would say it. Ilya was too difficult for me to say because of that y-sound in the middle. And then I sort of translated it for you.
“Lilya, Lily,” said Shane. It sounded so soft, so tender. Just the kind of name for Ilya he wanted. He pulled up the blanket and kissed him on the cheek, and then on the lips. “Okay. You’re Lily then. Lily, Shane’s boyfriend.”
***
“I have just one name,” said Shane in about half an hour. “People call me by the surname, as well, of course. Hollz and Hollzy, too. But still. You have so many. I think it’s a little… unfair?”
“Do you want a nickname? But what about Jane?”
“Jane is nice, sure, and I like it, but…”
“Ah, I know!” Ilya kissed Shane on the corner of his mouth. “You want a Russian-style nickname, da?”
“I guess I do. And… I think… I think you actually called me something, when we…” He trailed off.
“Hm. Was it…Shanya?” Ilya asked tentatively.
“Yes! Yes, exactly. And there was something else? Something… longer?”
“Shanya-pechenya. Shan’ka-pechen’ka. Oh my god!” said Ilya trying to suppress uncontrolled laughter.
“Yes! That’s the one! What does it mean?”
“It’s just.. It’s nothing. Nonsense. You don’t have to know,” said Ilya, still laughing.
“Oh yes, I have. Come on! Either you tell me now, or I’ll make you suffer,” demanded Shane, and Ilya knew that it would be wiser just to give in.
“It means that you’re my sweet little pechen’ka. My sweet little cookie.
Shane paused for a moment.
“Really? That's completely ridiculous,” he said. “But… I think it suits me. In a way. When I was a kid, I adored the Cookie monster from Sesame Street. I think I even wanted to marry him...” He smiled, feeling surprised at his own words.
“You're lucky then. You found a better guy. Much better!” Ilya took advantage of the fact that Shane got distracted, grabbed his wrists, and pinned him to the bed.
“Very lucky.” Shane couldn't help but agree.