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As Yuna leaves the room followed quickly by Shane, silence descends and Ilya feels the nerves creep up on him. The steadiness he has held this past hour is feeling...not so steady.
Like he is at sea without his anchor. Oops.
He tries to slow his breathing, strokes his thumb against the tumbler, trying not to drink too quickly. Reminds himself that Shane is only metres away.
It’s okay. It’s okay.
He looks at David. This man his beloved came from.
So...normal? So quiet.
Suddenly, a laugh is threatening to escape.
It is funny.
Funny to see how the parts of these two, Yuna and David, came together to make his lover. The looks, that confidence, like every time he is on the ice and yet, that sweet awkward side, struggling to hold eye contact in this situation that no-one was prepared for.
His lover. He must remember how much Shane hates that phrase. It is good to know this for future. For being an asshole.
He imagines how David felt in that moment at the cottage. Like the breaking of a sacred rule when Shane keeps so many things private. Seeing why, as his mouth and ass are claimed by another man, his arch-rival of all people. And so. Panic attack.
Fuck. Ilya catches a smirk before it turns into a laugh. That was close, too close.
He takes a sip of vodka, and as the cool turns to heat in his throat he knows now is the time to be kind. To say something. This man is probably still feeling like he is dying a bit.
'So... You have very nice cottage'.
As Ilya meets David's eyes again, he thinks he can see just a little of the tension leave his face.
'Yes. Thank you...Ilya...'
Ilya smiles at how David is still feeling the name out over his tongue.
'Bought it like 20 years ago? I'd gotten a promotion and Shane was just finishing his first year at elementary school. It was a tough time that year. A lot of change, new things to deal with. Yuna and I thought we could all use a space to relax in over the summer.'
Wow. Ilya smiles again. So many words from this mostly silent man.
'You work for Treasury Board of Canada, yes?'
David nods. 'For 30 years or so now. Did an internship there when I was at school and one thing led to another. Still there. Boring I guess but someone's got to do it.'
Boring. The word almost breaks Ilya.
He holds his face in a smile, determined not to collapse into the giggles. Then his stomach rumbles. Loudly. Fuck.
'Sorry!' He allows a laugh out, just a small one.
David smiles, placing his arms on the table, palms down, facing towards him.
'It's ok. I'm guessing you guys didn't have lunch yet.'
Ilya shakes his head.
'No. We were maybe thinking about it, maybe...when...'
Fuck.
Way to bring up that moment again. He averts his face, aware of the heat rushing to his cheeks.
Fuck. You are not supposed to do this.
He sneaks a peek back, to see David standing up, swallowing nervously. His cheeks as red as his own probably.
'Do you like pasta?'
Ilya nods. 'Yes. I will eat anything.'
Your son's dick. Your son's ass.
Unspoken, like how you say? There is elephant here in the room.
He swallows as another giggle threatens to escape.
If David caught that he doesn't show it. He beckons Ilya to join him in the kitchen.
Ilya sits at the bar and watches as David washes his hands then opens a drawer. Everything inside is folded so neatly.
David pulls out an apron and puts it on. He starts to gather ingredients from the cupboards and fridge. Spaghetti, olive oil, garlic, dried chillies. A wedge of parmesan.
He gets out a frying pan and a saucepan, a chopping board, a knife, a grater. He fills the saucepan with water, adds salt and switches the stove on.
He turns to meet Ilya's gaze again with a small smile.
'This shouldn't take long.' David says 'Just something simple. We took a trip to Italy one summer, I think it was in Naples where we had this...' He shrugs. 'Do you cook much, or...?'
Ilya shakes, smiles. 'Not really.'
David nods. He gets to peeling garlic cloves, chopping them into thin slices. There is a lot of garlic.
Ilya sips his vodka and watches David. He is in his element here in the kitchen. It is nice to see but Ilya feels on the outside still. Or wishes he was outside maybe, with his anchor.
He strokes his thumb, his ear. Thinks of Shane. Shane’s mom. Fuck. It has been a while now that they have been talking. He hopes everything is ok.
His hand drifts to the cross at his chest.
'Can I uh...help with something?' He asks, his voice soft, shaking a little.
David's gaze meets his face, like he can tell how he is feeling.
Fuck.
A wave hits Ilya in that second. This is how having a father is supposed to feel.
Fuck.
'Sure,' David says, grabbing the parmesan, the grater, a bowl. He places them on the bar in front of him.
Ilya jumps up from the stool, brushing his eyes quickly, going to the sink before David can see his face too close.
'I will wash my hands.'
They work in silence for a few minutes.
When the bowl is about three quarters full Ilya speaks again.
'You think there is enough?'
David turns from his position at the stove.
'Yep. Perfect. This is almost done. Just need a few more minutes for the spaghetti.'
He takes a step or two towards where Ilya is sitting at the bar.
'So...' David starts, a hint of nerves in his voice, 'You're...bisexual?'
Ilya fights to control his face for a second, eyebrows shooting up. Takes a deep breath.
'Yes'.
'So...' David exhales. 'When did you know you were...?'
Ilya smiles.
'I don't know. When I was teenager, probably.'
David nods quietly, his face open. Not angry or sad. Just...there.
Ilya takes a breath, trying not to think too much about...this. Dad feelings.
'I mean... It was that time, you know? When everything...' He gestures down his body '…everything changes. I start to notice girls and boys too. Is simple. Feels the same for me, until...'
'Until?'
'Well...' Ilya shrugs, a soft smile coming to his face again. 'I start to just want one person. Have not wanted anyone else for a long time now.'
David nods again. Like he gets it.
He turns to the cooker, then looks back quickly. As if he has forgotten about something.
'You know...' David starts. Is that a slight flush coming to his cheeks? 'You know, when I started school...at McGill....I...' he clears his throat, 'I had this roommate, and...'
Oh.
Ilya holds his gaze. Smiles. Nods.
They both turn at the sound as the front door opens and closes.
Shane and Yuna are talking. They sound ok? Calm, maybe good?
Ilya feels his shoulders relax, his smile widens.
David smiles back, still a little flushed. He turns back to the stove. Easy enough to blame the heat of the kitchen, probably.
Ilya nods again, still smiling. Yes, maybe like Shane, this man is not so boring after all.