Chapter Text
For Shane, it started like most things did, with him overthinking something.
Or, no. It started when Hayden told Shane that he and Jackie were dropping the kids off at the grandparents for the entire Summer.
"Hayden, both of you would hate that," Shane had said, surprised at the plan.
"The entire Summer is probably an exaggeration. It'll only be a couple of weeks. Jackie and me are going to New Zealand. I got us a resort where they teach adults how to surf."
“Really, surfing?” Shane had asked.
“Yeah, surfing. Jackie’s always wanted to learn how to, and now that most of the kids are a bit older, I want to take her,”
“Does she know about this?”
Hayden had rolled his eyes, like Shane was the one being ridiculous.
“Of course she knows about the vacation. If she doesn't want to surf, we’ll still be at a beach resort without the kids. It'll be a vacation either way,”
And that was nice, except Hayden hated the water. Even swimming pools were too much for him. The only reason why he knew how to was because when the kids were learning, he got scared that one of them might drown.
Shane asked why he wanted to do something he knew he’d hate.
“It’s just, Jackie had this bucket list when we met. She had it on a big ass poster on the wall right by her bed. She told me all about the things she wanted to do, surfing, scuba diving, sky diving. She wanted to do a triathlon too. But she also wanted to have kids close together and the twins were. . . “
“Ooops babies?” Shane asked.
“Don’t call my precious angels that, man. But, yeah, they were a surprise. Jackie wanted to have all her kids together so they could all be close in age, so we did that. She hasn't really done any of the big things on the list, and I just. . . I want her to have all the things, you know. Does that make sense?”
“It does,” Shane answered, because it did.
But then, that had made him think of Ilya, and their relationship. Did Ilya have a bucket list tacked somewhere?
And that made him spiral, because he didn't know. That had then made Shane think of everything they ever talked about, like sex and hockey. That was pretty much it. There were too many things Shane didn't know about Ilya, and he didn't like that.
So when he came across the article in The New Yorker it felt like serendipity. It felt like a chance to finally know Ilya away from their history and away from the relationship they had built.
“So, there was a thing I saw,” Shane said on the phone one night.
It was one of those soft nights, when sex wasn't didn't feel as important as the knowledge that the other person was there on the line. It felt like they were together, even though they weren't in the same space.
That didn't mean Ilya was any less of a menace.
“What thing? Sex thing? Last time was dildo. Did you buy another one?” Ilya answered, laugh in his voice.
“Shut up. It’s not a sex thing,”
“Aaah, so boring then?”
“Oh, fuck off,” Shane said, but he was rethinking the entire thing.
It wasn't that important anyway. It could wait until the Summer, when they could scrap together another two weeks at the cottage again. Or maybe he should never try to bring it up again.
“Shane,” Ilya said, breaking the silence that had probably gone too long.
“Ilya,” Shane said back. Why did he feel like crying?
“Can I tell you a secret?”
“If you tell me, then it won't be much of a secret anymore, will it?”
“Eh, I will say you lie. Secret has to be true,”
“What’s the secret?” Shane asked, still fighting back the urge to cry.
“I like boring things” There was rustling at the end of the line, then a sound, like Ilya was flopping down onto the bed, “Most days I miss being with most boring person in the world,”
“Yeah?”
“Yes. So tell me boring thing. Don't hide,” Ilya said.
“It’s. . . I saw a thing in The New Yorker,”
“Ah. The New Yorker,” Ilya said, laughing.
“Oh fuck off. Do you want me to tell you or not?”
“No, no, tell me thing you read in The New Yorker. I'm sure it's very. . . “
“Ilya,” Shane said, trying to sound strict even though he felt so, so fucking fond.
“Shaaane,” Ilya dragged out, “Tell me,”
“They have this thing. Like questions you can ask or whatever. To make you fall in love. I want to try it,”
“Hmmm. I can fall more in love with you?”
Shane ignored the fluttery feeling he got in his chest at the reminder. It had only been a few months since they admitted their love to each other over at the cottage, but somehow, it felt like something new all over again whenever Ilya said something about loving him.
It was terrifying. It was exhilarating. It was the most free Shane had ever felt.
“I think people are supposed to take the test before they find out they love each other,” Shane said, “But since we can't do anything the right way, why not?”
“I will do this. Maybe I will find more love in me for you, yes? Seems impossible, but we’ll try.”
“Yeah?”
“Da. Maybe is a lot more. How will I know? I didn't know love could be this big before I met you.
“Ilya, that’s. . . I love you too. Sometimes more than I think I can hold in my heart,”
“Ya lyublyu tebya.” Ilya said, “Ask the questions Shane Hollander”
“It's late there, so maybe just the first one tonight? There are 36 of them.”
“Hmmm. One question a day?”
“Yeah. That's a good idea. Is this really okay, I don't want to pressure you or anything,“
“You answer questions also, no?”
“I mean, yeah I'll also answer. But. . . “
“I want to know your answers also. New Yorker is reputable publication, yes? They know what they say.”
“Yeah. Probably,”
“Then ask the first question Shane,”
“Okay,”