Chapter Text
David didn't suspect anything before that day at the cottage. He came over for dishwasher pods and ended up leaving empty handed.
His son was 27, old enough to make his own decisions. Who Shane slept with was his own business. David, quite frankly, did not need to know. He didn't need to know every casual hookup or sex hideaway marathon or one night stand.
David knew that Shane had sex. His little boy had grown into a full adult with what David hoped was a very healthy sex life — hoping in the way that parents hopes: that their son was happy, but not in a way that they actually wanted to think about it.
Anyway, the point stood: that was all Shane's business.
Despite that, David saw his son with Ilya Rozanov through the large glass windows, making out on the back patio. Hands wondered down already wet bodies, water dripped onto the wood beneath them and created a dark circle around the pair.
They must have been in the lake, David thought numbly.
Shane didn't like going into the lake. The ground is too squishy and he didn't like that fish touched you.
David tried to reconcile the facts in front of him. Shane, wet from a lake that he didn't like. Ilya Rozanov, playboy extraordinaire, also wet from the same lake.
It wasn't until Shane slid a hand under the front of Rozanov's shorts that David's brain caught up with what was actually happening right before of his eyes.
David needed to leave. He didn't need -- nor, quite frankly, want -- to watch his son make out with anyone.
It's not the gay thing, obviously. Years later, when Shane and Ilya were out and the public knew most of the story, ignorant co-workers would tell David, "That must have been a shock to find out your son is gay like that. Nightmare dad scenario."
Yes, it was a shock, but not for that reason. David would have had a shock no matter who was touching his only son's ass in that manner. There were just some things a father should not see from his child, and heated pre-sex make-out session topped the list.
Future David would make a point to avoid those co-workers. Some people simply were not worth your time, energy, and peace. David would never stop being proud of his son, who fought for years to possess what he wanted.
The box of pods dropped onto the hard kitchen tile with a damning clang and David made a beeline for the front door. He didn't turn back, and he didn't realize Shane risked getting his hardwood floor wet with lake water to try and chase after him.
—
It wasn't until David saw Shane walk up to his own front door with Ilya Rozanov's hand in his that he truly understood.
This wasn't casual. This wasn't just a vacation sex rump or a summer fling or meaningless summer sex marathon.
Shane, who had never introduced a girlfriend to his parents, knocked on the front door as it opened with a man in tow. A man who's tongue David witnessed in Shane's mouth not even thirty minutes before.
"Is that Ilya Rozanov?" Yuna's hiss cut through David's thoughts. "What the fuck? I thought you said Shane had a partner over?"
Partner. David couldn't out his own son, not even to his wife. And he didn't want to try to explain that Shane's long-time rival was over at his sanctuary that David himself barely went to.
This was Shane's private life, and it seemed like it wouldn't be too private soon enough.
"Let's keep an open mind, Yuna." David took his wife's hand. His wonderful wife, who loved so loud and made plans and schedules for everyone with that love. "I think this is important."
Before Yuna can say anything, Shane voice called out into the house as he opened the door wide. "Hey, its me. Shane."
Written by a human in Ellipsus.