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Ilya's favourite season is, undoubtedly, summer. Summer is so much better when it's spent in the cottage with his Shane, lounging on a sunbed outside while Shane draws, laying on his stomach on the grass. Little Shane's recent obsession is drawing. Ilya isn't about to crush his dreams by telling him that the landscapes he colors look nothing like the real things- maybe they're just abstract art.
Watching Shane is like a full-time hobby to Ilya. He had been pretending to read the latest version of some fashion magazine, but all the articles are boring and just laying back with his shades on is so much more entertaining. Sun beats down on his skin. Ilya thinks about how he probably should've smothered Shane- and himself, for that matter- in more sunscreen before they came out here.
Ilya pushes his sunglasses up to squint at Shane's bare shoulder for a moment. Barely red. Okay, he's fine.
As much as he'd love to stay out here for the remainder of the afternoon, he knows they can't. Ilya's got a very extravagant dinner of spaghetti bolognese planned and he promised Shane this morning that they could cook together. Obviously little Shane doesn't have the complicated tasks; he's mostly just scraping things into bowls and stirring the pan, but he seems to like that.
Besides, Ilya called Shane's ‘five minute warning’ over five minutes ago, so now is probably a good time. Shane doesn't like moving from task to task. Giving him a warning is a way of letting him prepare for the next one without stress, or, God forbid, a Shane tantrum.
“Okay, Shane, time to go inside.” Ilya says as he reluctantly peels his bare back away from the sun lounger. Yeah, he definitely should've worn more clothes. Or more sunscreen. These shorts are not cutting it and he is sweating and hungry. “Five minutes is up.”
From his spot sprawled out on the grass, Shane turns momentarily to squint back at Ilya before shaking his head and going back to his drawing. Or scribbling. All his pencils are blunt anyway- he can't be making much progress.
“Still drawing!” Shane calls back in response.
Ilya grabs his baseball cap from the table and puts it on over his curls to protect him a little. “And you can keep drawing inside if you want, malysh. Just inside. Please.”
Normally, little Shane is very well behaved. He takes after big Shane in the way that he uses his manners and respects Ilya, even in his toddler headspace. Ilya barely ever has to punish him. Obviously he's very thankful of that; punishing Shane is something he hates doing.
“Can't draw inside, Ilya. I'm drawing the lake.” Shane protests, and Ilya sighs and begrudgingly slips his feet into his sliders before wandering over to Shane. For what it's worth, the picture is sort of good, given Shane's headspace and general lack of art skills. It's mostly blue on blue on blue, but fine. Ilya will put it up on the fridge later. “See?”
The grass around Shane is a mess. He isn't wearing his shoes and they're off to the side of his legs, and there's about twenty pencils scattered that Ilya definitely won't be able to find later when they do clear up. Shane's water bottle sits mostly untouched by his left hand.
Ilya crouches and kisses the side of Shane's head. Maybe he's not red or overheating like Ilya is, but his face is a little sweaty. Ilya would rather get him inside before he burns. “Hm, I see. Is very good. I will put it on the fridge.” He praises. “We can go inside now, yes?”
Immediately, Shane shakes his head. “It's not done yet.” He says seriously.
It looks pretty done to Ilya.
Even though Ilya probably has about one patient bone in his body- if that- he stays soft with Shane, gently stroking his hair away from his slightly sweaty forehead as he admires him. They don't do this often, where Shane pushes back, but it does happen. God knows Ilya would be an absolute menace if their roles were reversed, so he puts up with it.
“We can finish it tomorrow. Or after dinner. But I am hungry and very hot, and you wanted to help with spaghetti tonight.” Ilya reasons.
This does seem to sway Shane slightly, but not enough. He pauses before shaking his head and adding more green to the trees around the lake in his picture. “We can make the spaghetti later.”
Sighing, Ilya sits properly on the grass, cross-legged. “But I am still very hot, Shane. It makes me very upset and I will cry.”
Dramatically, Ilya mimes being absolutely distraught as he flops down onto his back on the grass beside Shane, letting out a big puff of breath and covering his face with one, slightly red arm. This earns a laugh from Shane. Big Shane gets fed up with Ilya's antics sometimes when he plays around too much, but little Shane is always amused.
“Silly Ilya.” Shane says, and when Ilya pulls his arm away from his face he can see Shane shaking his head. “You don't cry.”
Ilya raises an eyebrow. “I don't?”
“Not really. Not because you're too hot.”
Damn little Shane and his reasoning. It's true; Ilya doesn't cry often, and he definitely wouldn't cry over being in the sun for too long. Still, Shane isn't supposed to know that. He's supposed to just give in and come inside so they can make spaghetti.
Ilya pushes himself back up to sit and he really is a little fed up now. “Okay, you got me. I would not cry over being too hot.” Ilya shrugs. “Really. Inside, now.”
“I said I'm not finished drawing!”
Apparently Shane is irritated, too, because his voice is definitely getting louder. A hot Shane is a frustrated Shane, and Ilya knows that well enough. It's not like he'll ever admit that he's too hot, though.
Part of Ilya wants to grab Shane and give him a good shake or something. If Ilya ever did this, his dad would've spanked him. Disobeying is disrespectful and little children shouldn't be disrespectful, but Ilya is not his father. When Shane first started doing his little thing around Ilya, they had a long talk about punishment. It's not often that Shane even needs a punishment at all, but if he does, Ilya would never hurt him. Giving Shane a spanking would probably be more of a nightmare for Ilya than it would be for Shane. Instead, Shane has a ‘naughty step’ that he sits on in the cottage and Ilya sets a timer.
Ilya doesn't give Shane a good shake, and he doesn't threaten the step, either. They aren't there yet. He takes a deep breath like his therapist tells him to when he's annoyed.
“And I said you can finish tomorrow.” Ilya repeats, calmer than he feels, and is inwardly very proud of himself. “You can come inside and keep drawing or you can come inside and help with spaghetti. Those are your options.”
Options also help Shane. Ilya likes being able to give him choice, within reason. “Why can't I stay outside?” He asks.
It's not like Ilya is so protective that he doesn't want to let Shane out of his sight. It's more that little Shane has little to no danger awareness, and if he, for some reason, dropped one of those stupid, blunt pencils in the lake, he could jump in to get it and drown. Very unlikely, but Ilya isn't taking the chance of Shane even grazing his knee without him there.
“Because I say so.” Ilya says instead, because he's not about to explain the real reason to Shane. He'd just have some big retaliation and then they wouldn't get anywhere. “And I said please.”
Huffing, Shane turns his head away. He collapses onto the grass on his stomach completely and buries his face into his forearms.
Fair enough, Ilya thinks as he puts a gentle hand on Shane's lower back. The tank top he's wearing has ridden up slightly to expose the waistband of his boxers, and Ilya respectfully adjusts it so you can't see bare skin anymore. “Pick an option, malysh.”
The touch relaxes Shane slightly. He still shakes his head when prompted.
“I will pick you up and take you inside.” Ilya says.
“No!” The protest is muffled and said into Shane's arms, but Ilya gets the gist. As much as he hates having to argue with little Shane, it has to be done. Ilya is, for the most part, a pushover, but there are some times when he has to stand his ground. At least Shane hasn't pulled out his puppy eyes yet, because they always get Ilya to give in.
“I have given you five minute warning.” Ilya reminds him. Still gentle, but firm at the same time. It's obvious he isn't giving in. “You have two options, or I pick you up and you will have timeout for not listening.”
Shane makes a low whining sound into his arms and kicks his feet against the grass.
Even when he's punishing him, Ilya likes to make sure Shane knows what's going to happen. Mostly for his own peace of mind more than Shane's. The thought of him being scared of Ilya or of something he's done while Shane's in headspace makes him feel sick; even if Shane is being irritating right now, it's part of little Shane. And this is supposed to make him feel safe.
“Last chance to choose.” Ilya says after a moment. It's hot out here and he wants to go inside.
Another whining sound and Shane, frustrated, hits the ground with one fist. This isn't a meltdown. Ilya knows what those look like, when Shane is genuinely overwhelmed or upset, and he never gets punished for those. No, this is a Shane tantrum. “I don't want to choose! I don't like your options! Stay outside!” Shane argues.
He was warned. Ilya puts his hands to Shane's waist and wrestles him over his shoulder, which is difficult when Shane's all wriggly and he's 6 foot tall, but he manages. If they're going to be doing this regularly, Ilya will need to work out his shoulders more. Holding Shane like this is not easy.
Shane whines all the way into the house. Ilya contemplates bringing Shane's shoes and water in with him, but decides he needs both hands to support his partner squirming and settles on a second trip.
The naughty step, thankfully, isn't far into the cottage. Ilya deposits Shane carefully on his feet and adjusts his t-shirt for him again. “I will set timer for two minutes.” Ilya says, keeping his voice patient. “You are on the naughty step because you had your warning and your choices and you did not listen. I will come back when timer is over.”
Shane sniffles. There isn't even a move to run. It's almost like Shane resigns himself to his fate when he does this- he's never once tried to run after he's been put on the naughty step. Even when he's being irritating, Shane is still good.
Ilya kisses his partner's forehead and leaves.
The first thing he does is set a timer in the kitchen. He can hear Shane sniffling from the naughty step, but he can wait two minutes, and Ilya goes back outside to gather up Shane's things that have been strewn across the grass. Unsurprisingly, there are multiple all around the area that he'd been. Once Ilya thinks he's got them all- and, of course, Shane's shoes and water- he goes back inside. Shane's picture is stuck neatly on the fridge. If he wants to finish it tomorrow, Ilya can always take it down again.
By the time Ilya's found the spaghetti in the cupboard and had a glass of water to cool himself down, the timer is going off.
Shane wasn't exceptionally bad. Two minutes is plenty. Ilya's too much of a pushover to ever have kept him there for more than five minutes anyway, more because then Shane starts crying and it's horrible to sit there and listen to his tears and not be able to do anything about it.
This time, it hasn't been long enough for Shane to start crying. He's just sniffling and sucking his thumb, and he's sat down on the step to get himself a little more comfortable instead of just standing. Ilya sits beside him and puts an arm around him, kissing the side of his head, gentle. Punishment over. Ilya wants to be soft with him now.
“Talk to me.” Ilya prompts gently.
This is something else they do. After Shane does have a very rare timeout, they talk about it to make sure Shane knows why he was put there, so he's not just up worrying that Ilya thinks he's bad and he's going to be bad forever. It also helps Ilya knows if he was too harsh, or not harsh enough. Not that he's ever too harsh. He's way too soft on Shane.
“Sorry for not listening.” Shane sniffles and turns his face to nuzzle into Ilya's shoulder momentarily, sensory seeking. His thumb is taken out of his mouth, saliva smeared over the step. Thank god this isn't big Shane because he'd be disgusted. “I should've listened.”
Patient, Ilya nods. “Yes. Why didn't you?”
“Wanted to keep drawing.” Shane picks at a stray thread on his shorts, a little awkward and probably also embarrassed. Not that there's anything to be embarrassed about, but Shane obviously knows what he's done wrong. He probably wishes he could change it. “Sorry, Ilya.”
Ilya kisses Shane's head again, and then his nose, and then his cheek by his freckles. This one is simple, apparently. Shane just wanted to keep drawing.
“I forgive you.” Ilya tilts Shane's head up with one finger so they're eye to eye and dries the one stray tear that's run down his face. “I love you, okay?”
“I love you too.”
For a moment, Ilya lets Shane bask in the quiet. He cups the side of his partner's face and holds him against his neck, occasionally kissing his hairline, which is still slightly sweaty. They were running around earlier. He'll have to bath Shane tonight, but bathing little Shane is always fun because Ilya gets to play with him. Most of the floor is always covered in bubbles afterwards.
“Do you want to help with spaghetti, or do you want to watch?” Ilya asks after a moment. The choices didn't work earlier, but they're both calmer now.
Shane thinks for a moment and his thumb drifts back up to his mouth so he can suckle. Despite Ilya constantly redirecting him to a soother or teething toy, Shane often refuses. His thumb is apparently better.
“Help, p’ease.” Shane slurs around the digit in his mouth.
Who is Ilya to say no to that?