Chapter Text
"Papa, watch this!" Shane's voice rang out across the lake, bright and giddy as he kicked his legs. He was floating on his back, his hair plastered to his forehead.
"I see you, Солнышко (Sunshine/little Sun)." Ilya emerged onto the dock with his arms loaded. Towels folded unevenly under one elbow, Shane's dry clothes under the other, and Moo hung loosely in his grip. Shane's pacifier was in between his teeth, his speech slightly mumbled as he told Shane it was time to get out.
Shane shook his head, dunking himself under before resurfacing again, grinning up at Ilya with water clinging to his eyelashes. "Five more minutes?" Shane pleaded. His toes wiggled under the water, stirring up ripples.
Ilya exhaled through his nose and set the pile down on the nearest lounge chair, rescuing Moo before she could topple onto the damp dock. "You said 'five more minutes' twenty minutes ago, Радость моя (My joy) Ilya pointed out, pulling the pacifier from his own mouth now that his hands were free and hooking the plastic ring around his finger. He crouched at the edge of the dock. "Papa's not asking."
Shane blew a raspberry at Ilya. "I'm not tired yet," he declared, though the way his eyes drooped betrayed him.
"You are tired," Ilya countered, watching Shane's lower lip jut out into a pout. "Your eyes are doing that... that sleepy blinking. Like sleepy kitten in YouTube videos." Shane kicked his legs, sending a splash towards the edge of the dock where Ilya was standing. "Am not a kitten."
"Shane."
Shane wrinkled his nose and sank deeper into the water until it lapped at his chin. "Don't wanna." Ilya's sigh carried the weight of a man who'd spent several playoff seasons dealing with Shane's signature stubbornness, both on and off the ice.
"Are you going to make Papa count?" Shane flipped onto his stomach with a splash, paddling in quick, uneven circles.
"But Papa, the fish!" He pointed towards a ripple near the reeds. "They want to play with me. They told me."
"You speak fish now? Huh?" Ilya hummed, grabbing one of the towels and shaking it out. "Fishies need nap also. Let's go, Shane."
Shane shook his head again, starting to float away further from the dock. Ilya snapped his fingers twice, making Shane's shoulders jerk. "Look at Papa, Shane," Ilya ordered, dropping into Russian when Shane deliberately turned his head away.
Тебе нужна порка? (Do you need a spanking?)
Shane's lower lip jutted out further, but his eyes flicked back to Ilya's face. Papa's expression had shifted into that particular brand of sternness that always made Shane's stomach do a funny little flip. "No, Papa." He murmured.
"Last warning," Ilya said.
Shane's napping window was rapidly fading. And Ilya would bet $100 that if the little did not nap after spending his entire morning in the lake, he would crash around dinner and be a disaster. And Ilya would like to avoid dealing with that tantrum and ending their day with a spanking.
"Papa," Shane whined. Ilya raised an eyebrow and grabbed Moo, letting the cow's floppy head droop dramatically against his shoulder. "Should Papa go lie down with Moo by himself then?" Ilya asked, watching Shane's brows furrow immediately.
Shane's legs stopped kicking, his gaze flicking between Ilya and Moo. "Moo's mine."
Ilya hummed, turning Moo around to cradle her like a baby, one large hand supporting her back. "Hmm, but Moo is very sleepy," he murmured, pitching his voice into the exaggerated cadence he used for storytelling. "She says... 'Papa, I want to nap with you, Shane is too busy splashing.'" He paused, tilting his head as if listening to the stuffed toy. "Oh? She also says... 'If Shane does not come, I get all the cuddles.'"
Shane made a wounded noise, half protest, half genuine distress, and pushed towards the edge of the dock. "No! Papa mine! Moo mine!"
Ilya bit back a smile and dropped Moo back on the lounger so she wouldn't get wet, extending the pacifier around his finger toward Shane like a peace offering. "Come to us then, Малыш (Baby)
Shane's lips parted automatically, his earlier defiance dissolving into quiet compliance as Ilya slid the pacifier into his mouth, extending his arms up.
Ilya's arms hooked under his armpits and hauled him up onto the dock in one smooth motion, wrapping him up in a soft towel. Shane squirmed in Ilya's grasp the second his feet touched the dock, water pooling around his toes.
"Moo," he whined, reaching for the stuffed cow.
"Hmm, no," Ilya hummed, snagging another towel from the lounge chair. "First Papa dries little fish boy, then Moo. Or she gets wet." He punctuated the statement by rubbing the towel gently over Shane's hair, eliciting a half-hearted grumble as Shane's head bobbed with the motion.
The pacifier popped loose when Shane grumbled, and Ilya barely caught it before it tumbled into the lake. Shane scrunched his nose as the towel dragged over his face, puffing out his cheeks until Ilya relented and let him surface from the terrycloth cocoon. Shane's damp hair stuck up in tufts, giving him the disheveled look of a half-drowned chick.
Ilya's breath caught when Shane scrunched his nose, with his sun-dusted freckles and water droplets still clinging to his eyelashes. The sight punched him right in the ribs, that particular blend of fondness and cuteness-aggression Ilya often felt when Shane was little. God.
Ilya popped the pacifier he caught into his own mouth without thinking, second nature by now, before offering it back to Shane with a quiet. "Stop melting your Papa."
Shane grumbled around the fresh press of silicone against his tongue, fingers grabbing onto Ilya's shoulders as Ilya hooked his fingers into his trunks, peeling the fabric off to finish drying Shane off. "M'not the sun, Papa."
"Disagree." Ilya pressed a kiss to Shane's temple before focusing back on the task at hand. Shane bit back a yawn, holding onto Ilya's shoulders still.
"Moo now?" He slurred, his earlier energy seeping away.
Ilya hummed noncommittally, working the fabric over Shane's toes.
"Papa, please?"
Ilya relented, handing Shane his beloved plush, and watched as Shane immediately crushed her into his chest.
Now that Shane was dry, Ilya put the oversized tee on first, swallowing Shane's torso in soft cotton before guiding Shane's legs into some simple briefs and pulling them up.
"There," Ilya murmured, smoothing a hand down Shane's back as he straightened. Shane looked absurdly young like this, swamped in fabric, hair messy, his cheek smushed against Moo's head. The pacifier bobbed as Shane yawned again, his eyelids drooping despite his earlier protests.
Ilya couldn't help himself, not with Shane looking up at him all soft and pliant. "My baby," Ilya cooed, hands coming up to cradle Shane's face. His thumbs brushed over his cheekbones, tracing the faint freckles there before he leaned in, pressing his lips to the rounded plastic shield of the pacifier first. Then he shifted, pressing a kiss to Shane's temple, the bridge of his nose, the apple of each cheek in rapid succession, tasting the sunscreen Shane fought him on this morning.
Shane squirmed, a breathy giggle escaping around the pacifier. "Papa," He whined, the word muffled, his cheeks flushing darker beneath Ilya's kisses. "Tickles," Shane murmured, burying his face into Ilya's warm chest instead, wrapping his arms around Ilya's neck and transferring his weight.
Ilya huffed a laugh against Shane's hair, easily accommodating the shift as he hooked an arm under Shane's knees, the other supporting his back as he lifted him effortlessly.
Shane went willingly, his body folding into Ilya's hold like he was made to fit there, his head lolling against Ilya's shoulder as Ilya swayed them for a good while, inhaling his boy before walking the short distance back to the cottage.
Ilya nudged the sliding door open with his hip, the cool rush of air conditioning washing over them as he stepped inside. Shane shivered, scrunching his nose up, burying his face deeper into Ilya's neck, eyes already closed.
"Shh," Ilya soothed, pressing a kiss to Shane's temple as he crossed to the bedroom. "Almost there,"
Ilya lowered Shane onto the mattress carefully, one hand cradling the back of his head as he eased him down. Shane's fingers twitched around Moo, his legs curling up instinctively, but he didn't open his eyes, just sighed around the pacifier as Ilya tucked the blanket around his shoulders.
Ilya lingered for a moment, brushing Shane's damp hair from his forehead. Ilya's chest tightened again, that same stupid fondness swelling behind his ribs, and he swallowed it down with a quiet exhale.
Ilya straightened, rolling his shoulders to ease the strain from carrying Shane's weight, and padded to the nightstand to grab the remote to close the blinds. He debated a sleep sack for a second, before deciding not to bother Shane with getting him into one and figuring they'd get too warm anyway if he wanted to hold Shane.
Shane had rolled onto his side in the few seconds Ilya's back was turned, his knees drawn up to his chest, Moo tucked under his chin. Ilya shuffled into bed behind Shane, wrapping his arms around Shane's sleeping form, pressing a soft kiss to baby hairs at the back of Shane's neck.
Спи спокойно, моя любовь (Sleep well, my love.)
