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Shane’s day off was going just as he’d planned. He woke up at six to do some yoga by the water, taking advantage of the last stretch of summer sun. Later, he took Anya for a walk with Ilya once the other man had dragged himself from the safe warmth of their bed. Then he’d gotten some much-needed spring cleaning and self-care done. Now Shane was ready to tackle this week’s meal prep while Ilya was distracted by God knows what.
He started the same way he always did, laying everything he needed out on the counter in organised sections. The fruit for his overnight oats were rinsed and left to dry, the vegan protein powder was measured into bowls, and the jars were opened and waiting to be filled with cashew milk.
Shane had always found meal-prep to be relaxing. The organisation, working with his hands, the routine that helped settle his anxiety. The only thing left to grab was the oats.
Shane moved towards the pantry and opened it, reaching for the oat container, only to find the space where they were usually stored empty. Confused, he looked around. Maybe he'd already grabbed them and forgotten, but no, there were no oats in sight.
He stood still for a second, letting confusion wash over him as he stared at the space where his oat container should have been. Then slowly, Shane turned his head towards the door leading from the kitchen to the hallway.
“Ilay.” His voice was calm in a way that suggested it wouldn’t stay that way for long. “Have you seen the oats?”
There was a long pause and then a splash. After some muffled words, Ilya’s voice travelled throughout the house, his tone letting Shane know that he was up to no good.
“…..Define ‘saw’.”
Shane closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Of course, Ilya had something to do with the missing oats. Of course, his husband would decide today was the day to dabble in petty theft.
“Ilya, what did you do with them? I’m trying to prep our breakfast for the week.”
There was another stretch of silence, only broken up by the sound of splashing water coming from the bathroom.
“They’re not gone, just not breakfast anymore.”
Shane turned towards the hallway, making his way out of the kitchen and towards Ilya’s voice, his stress levels slowly but surely rising. With his voice tight, he spoke again.
“Ilya, what did you do to the oats?”
Another pause. Then, cautiously. “For Anya, she needed them.”
Shane stops just outside the bathroom door, confusion clear on his face.
“What do you mean, Anya needed them. She’s a dog, she doesn’t have oats in her approved diet.”
“I make her bath for spa day.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“I make her oat bath,” Ilay says, more confident in his point now. “TikTok said is good for her skin. My poor malyshka was scratchy so I fix it.”
There was more splashing, a clear sign that this oat bath was ongoing and that Anya was very pleased by her little spa day, fuelled by oat robbery.
Shane finally stepped into the bathroom, turning to see a very content Anya in cloudy, oat-filled water. Her tail was wagging side to side, sending little splashes of water across the bath's edge.
Beside her sat Ilya, an empty oat container to his right, sleeves rolled and his arms hanging into the bath, looking entirely too pleased with the situation at hand.
Shane could feel his blood pressure rising again. He’s starting to wonder if he should make a doctor’s appointment at this point. “You used all of the oats.”
Ilya glanced at the container, then at Shane, and shrugged. “TikTok lady says to use enough, makes water more ……efficient.”
“I don’t care what the TikTok lady said, an entire container is way too much. You used two weeks' worth of oats, Ilya.”
Ilya, still entirely too calm, gestures to the tub. “She is very soft now. You see, Shane? Anya is worth all the oats.”
As if on cue, Anya barked, splashing some oat water over the lip of the tub.
Ilya laughs. “Good girl, Anya, sticking up for Papa when Shane is being grumpy.”
Shane watches the scene in front of him. The bath, the mess, the man he loves dearly who had decided their breakfast makes a better bath bomb than food, and the dog he’s grown to love with everything he has.
He lets out a long, drawn-out sigh, his resolve crumbling. The love he feels for this giant Russian fool taking over.
“You owe me more oats.”
“Ok,” Ilya says, fast and sure.
“Today.”
Ilya hesitates, looking towards Anya. “After she finishes spa?”
Shane drags a hand down his face, trying to hide the smile tugging at his lips. Looking towards Anya, he can see how happy she is, blissed out and sleepy in her bath.
“She does look pretty happy.”
Ilya smiles, bright and beautiful. “Yes! Very happy. Very soft.”
Shane huffs out a quiet laugh, shaking his head, his smile taking over his face. “You’re still buying me more oats once you’re done.”
Leaning against the doorframe, watching Ilya be completely himself without fear of judgment, Shane feels the last of his irritation fading away. If getting to see Ilya this happy after everything they’ve been through means losing some oats, then he’s happy to go without.