Chapter Text
The stone buildings rose around a broad green quad, their windows catching the late-summer sunlight, and there were already clusters of students moving between them with backpacks slung over their shoulders, duffel bags in hand, and parents carrying boxes, lamps, bedding, and the various other pieces of home that had been deemed necessary for surviving the first year of university. Shane slowed the car as they passed beneath the stone archway at the entrance, following the signs toward residential parking, while Ilya sat in the passenger seat with both hands folded loosely in his lap and Eli stared out the window from the backseat.
For the past several months, Shane had tried very hard to treat this day as though it were simply another milestone, no different in emotional weight from a first day of school or the first time Eli had gone away for a baseball tournament. He had told himself repeatedly that the university was only thirty minutes from home, that Eli would be coming back most weekends, that they could see him whenever he wanted and that he could come home whenever he needed them.
All of those things were true, and yet as Shane looked at the campus disappearing slowly behind them, he found that none of those practical reassurances quite reached the part of him that was quietly grieving the end of something. Eli was eighteen now, an adult who had worked hard for the future he wanted, and Shane was immensely proud of him for that, but pride did not make it any easier to watch his son begin building a life that did not require his fathers standing beside him for every step.
“I think that’s our building,” Eli said from the backseat, and there was enough excitement in his voice that Shane looked at him in the rearview mirror.
“I think you’re right,” Shane said, squinting at the sign for ‘Tower Hall’. “You want me to pull over?”
The car rolled toward the curb in front of the residence hall, and Eli leaned forward between the front seats to look at the building with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. He had spent weeks talking about his dorm room, looking at the floor plan the university had emailed him, making lists of things he thought he might need and then revising those lists after talking to Shane, Ilya, Cassie, and Max. The rooms in this hall were singles, which worked well for Eli who still had nightmares from time-to-time, and needed to sleep with a light on.
Now, however, Eli looked mostly excited. He opened the car door and stepped out before either of his dads could say anything, looking up at the residence hall with an expression Shane recognized as the beginning of wonder. It reminded him of Eli at eleven, standing in the doorway of his own first bedroom and looking around as though he could not quite believe that a space had been set aside specifically for him. The memory caught Shane unexpectedly, and he paused for half a second before reaching into the trunk for one of the plastic storage bins.
“Where to first?” he asked.
“Room first,” Eli said, already reaching for another box. “I think I know where it is.”
Ilya came around the other side of the car and immediately took two of the heavier bins from Eli before his son could protest. “You can carry your pillows,” he said.
Eli gave him a look that was more affectionate than annoyed and gathered the lighter things against his chest. “I can carry a box, Papa.”
“I know, Solnyshko.”
The room itself was small enough that the three of them stood inside it for a moment without quite knowing where to put themselves. There was a narrow twin bed pushed against one wall, a wooden desk and chair beneath the window, a wardrobe, and a bookshelf that would soon be filled with the books Eli had brought from home. The window looked directly over the quad, where students were beginning to spread blankets across the grass and a group of older students were carrying folding tables toward one of the buildings. It was not luxurious, but it was clean and bright, and something about its smallness made it unintimidating.
“This is nice,” Ilya said quietly, nodding approvingly.
Eli nodded, walking toward the window and looking down at the quad. “Yeah. I like the view.”
Shane set down the box in his hands and began unpacking almost immediately, partly because there was plenty to do and partly because having a task helped him contain the emotion that kept threatening to rise. He helped Eli arrange his books on the shelf, made the bed with the new duvet they had bought together, found a place for the small framed photograph of the three of them, and organized the desk supplies in a way that Eli promptly rearranged after Shane left the room to get another box. Ilya worked more slowly, hanging clothes in the wardrobe and carefully putting Eli’s winter things away at the back, while Eli moved between them with increasing confidence.
The room began to look lived-in surprisingly quickly. He had a red-and-blue plaid bedspread with his Centaurs blanket folded at the end and his wolf plushie standing sentinel on the little bedside table. His books occupied the shelf, his baseball glove sat on the desk beside a stack of notebooks, and a ceramic mug from home held pens and pencils. There was a photograph of Cassie and Max tucked into the corner of the mirror, and another of Eli with Paxon and a few of his old baseball teammates.
Eli’s high school romance with Paxon had been sweet but had changed shape back into a friendship after a few months, as those things so often do. Eli admitted to his fathers soon after the breakup - if you could call it that - that he’d missed Paxon just being his friend, and was relieved that they were once again platonic. Paxon still came over for dinner and to play ball in the backyard until he, too, left for school. Shane noticed that photo and smiled, thinking briefly of how strange and lovely it was that people who had once been strangers to Eli had become such permanent parts of his life.
A knock came at the open door, and a young woman with a university lanyard and hat leaned in with a friendly smile. “Hi, are you Eli?”
Eli straightened. “Yeah.”
“I’m Mara. I’m your RA for this floor.” She held out a hand, and Eli shook it. “Welcome. I promise the building is much quieter after tonight.” Eli smiled gratefully at that.
Mara stepped into the room and handed him a folder. “This is your welcome packet. There’s a campus map, emergency numbers, health services, security information, and a list of clubs and teams. There’s also a schedule for the week, so you’ll want to hang onto that. I’m gathering everyone on this floor at three for some introductory activities - nothing too serious.”
Eli glanced through the packet, and Shane saw his eyes pause on the page listing clubs. “There’s a baseball team,” he said.
“There is,” Mara confirmed. “It’s a club team, so it’s not quite the same level of commitment as varsity, but they practice regularly and they’re always looking for people.”
Eli nodded thoughtfully, then looked farther down the page. “Creative writing club.”
“That one’s popular too.”
Shane smiled as he pinned the list of emergency numbers to Eli's bulletin board. “You should do both.”
Eli looked at him. “Dad.”
“I’m only saying you should consider it.”
“You're saying it with your dad voice.”
Ilya laughed softly from beside the wardrobe. “He is.”
Shane ignored this with as much dignity as he could manage and nodded toward the packet. “You love baseball, and you love writing. You might as well see what’s out there.”
Eli tucked the packet under his arm. “I’ll think about it.”
Mara smiled at the three of them, seeming to understand that she had arrived in the middle of a family moment. “I’ll see you at three in the common room, Eli. If you need anything before then, just knock on my door. I’m at the end of the hall.”
“Thanks,” Eli said.
When she left, Shane watched Eli look after her for a moment before turning back toward his room. “She seems nice.”
“She does,” Ilya agreed.
There was a pause while Eli looked around at everything they had arranged. Shane could almost see the moment when the reality of it settled into him again, because his expression changed slightly, becoming more thoughtful and uncertain. Ilya noticed it too, but neither of them mentioned it. Instead, they finished putting away the last few things and then suggested walking to the dining hall together.
Parents were allowed to eat with students during move-in weekend, and the dining hall was crowded with families. There were long tables filled with conversations, children wandering around with plates, and parents trying to memorize the locations of buildings their children would soon have to navigate alone. Eli chose steamed vegetables, chicken alfredo pasta, and a small chocolate cupcake, and they found a table near one of the windows.
For the first several minutes, the conversation stayed easy. They talked about the food (not as good as Shane’s cooking but better than Eli expected) and the clubs (the introductory baseball practice was tomorrow afternoon). Eli told them about a professor whose introductory video he had watched online and how excited he was about finally taking university-level English courses (“There’s English and American literature and I think I can take them both next semester”), and his dads listened with the quiet pride of people who had heard their son talk about becoming a teacher for years and were now watching that dream take a tangible shape.
Eventually, however, Eli grew quieter. He moved his fork around his plate more than he ate, and his gaze kept drifting toward the dining hall entrance whenever someone new came through. Shane noticed before Ilya did and reached across the table to squeeze his shoulder gently.
“You okay?”
Eli nodded automatically, then looked down at his plate. “Yeah. Just nervous.”
“That’s allowed.”
“I know.”
Ilya reached across the table and took Eli’s hand. “You do not have to prove anything today, solnyshko. You only have to give it a try. That is all.”
Eli looked up. This was a conversation that had been repeated throughout the summer. Eli’s independence was important, so his dads wanted him to try to stay at school through the week even though it was easily within driving distance for commuting to class, but if he gave it a good try and struggled, they weren’t going to force it.
“If you sleep here this week and you hate it,” Ilya continued, “you can come home. If you decide after a week that you would rather commute, you can do that too. If you need more time, we will give you more time. There is no version of this where you lose your home.”
Shane nodded. “Your room is still your room. Your bed is still your bed. We are still here.”
Eli swallowed and looked down again, but Shane could see the tension easing in his shoulders. Ilya squeezed his hand before letting go, and for a few moments they simply ate together.
Shane found himself smiling when he thought about how different this was from the version of Eli who had once been terrified of needing anything from them. Their son had spent years learning that asking for help did not mean failure, and now they were trying to teach him the equally important lesson that leaving home did not mean leaving them.
“I’m going to miss you,” Shane admitted eventually. “A lot.”
Eli smiled faintly. “I know.”
“I mean it. I’m very happy for you, but I’m going to miss having you around.”
“I’ll be home Friday.”
“I know.”
Ilya smiled. “Your dad is trying to make himself sound very brave.”
Shane glanced at him. “I am brave.”
“You are.”
“I am also a little jealous.”
Eli laughed softly. “Jealous of me?”
“Of the experience,” Shane clarified. “Your papa and I never got to do this. We were traded to professional teams before we had much of a chance to have a normal university life. I’m proud of you for getting the opportunity to do something we didn’t.”
Eli looked thoughtful. “You think I’ll like it?”
“I think you might,” Shane said. “And if you don’t, you’ll figure out something else. That’s what growing up is.”
They walked back to the residence hall together after lunch, and the distance seemed much shorter than it had earlier. Eli had another hour before his floor meeting, so they returned to his room and spent the remaining time making small adjustments. Ilya moved the desk lamp so it would not shine directly into Eli’s eyes while he studied, Shane fixed the loose corner of the duvet, and Eli stood in the middle of the room watching them with an expression that made Shane’s chest ache.
When it was finally time for them to leave, none of them seemed entirely sure how to begin.
Ilya hugged him first, carefully but tightly enough that Eli leaned into him. Shane joined them a moment later, and for a few seconds the three of them stood together in the middle of the little room that was suddenly becoming Eli’s.
“You have everything?” Shane asked when they finally separated.
“Yes.”
“Phone charger?”
“Yes.”
“Medications?”
“Yes.”
“Emergency numbers?”
“Yes.”
Ilya touched Shane’s arm. “He has the packet.”
“I know.”
Eli smiled. “Dad.”
“Right. Sorry.”
They walked together toward the common room, where Mara was waiting with several other new students. A few of them looked just as uncertain as Eli had, and one boy was wearing a Harry Styles T-shirt that Shane recognized immediately. He glanced at Ilya, who was already smiling.
“I like his shirt,” Shane murmured.
“Do not embarrass him.”
“I wasn't going to.”
They said their goodbyes in the hallway, and Shane forced himself not to linger. Eli hugged Ilya again, then Shane, and when Shane finally stepped away, he saw that Eli was already turning toward the other students. Mara was talking to them about the afternoon schedule, and the boy in the Harry Styles shirt said something that made Eli laugh.
Shane smiled despite himself as they walked away, tangling his fingers with his husband’s.
They reached the car, got inside, and neither of them said much as Shane pulled away from the university. They made it perhaps two streets before Ilya covered his face with both hands, and Shane glanced over to see tears already running down his cheeks.
“Oh, sweetheart.”
“I’m fine,” Ilya said, although his voice broke.
Shane reached across and took his hand. “I know.”
Then Shane began crying too, which made Ilya laugh through his tears, and for several minutes they drove in silence, holding hands over the center console. They both knew it was only Monday afternoon. They both knew Eli would be home in five days. They both knew he was safe, that Mara was there, that he had a phone, that he had friends, that he had spent years preparing for this moment. None of those facts stopped the car from feeling strangely empty without him.
The afternoon passed slowly. Shane tried to work, although he found himself checking his phone every few minutes, while Ilya wandered around the house doing small tasks that did not need to be done. Eventually they ended up on the couch together, Ilya tucked against Shane’s side beneath a blanket while the television played quietly in the background.
“He hasn't texted,” Ilya said.
“He's probably busy.”
“I know.”
“He's meeting everyone.”
“I know.”
“He'll text.”
“I know.”
Shane kissed the top of his head. “We have raised an independent human being.”
“I know.”
They stayed that way for another half hour, until Shane’s phone finally chimed.
Both of them reached for it at the same time.
The family group chat contained a message from Eli: "Sorry I've been MIA! Been super busy! Everything’s good. Look dad, proof I ate my veggies at dinner :)"
Attached was a photograph of a plate containing a modest serving of broccoli, alongside a much larger serving of a hot dog and fries. Shane laughed softly with relief.
“Look at him go,” he said in quiet awe.
Ilya leaned closer to the screen, then frowned thoughtfully. “Wait.”
“What?”
“There are three other plates.”
Shane looked again.
There were, indeed, three other plates visible around Eli’s. One belonged to a student sitting across from him, another was partly obscured by a water glass, and the third appeared to belong to someone sitting beside him.
Ilya smiled, the worry in his face finally beginning to loosen.
“He's not eating alone,” he said.
Shane looked at the photograph again, then leaned back against the couch with a long breath. Somewhere thirty minutes away, their son was taking tentative, independent steps, and Shane attempted to clear his throat of the pride and melancholy that tightened around it. He cuddled closer to Ilya in a home that felt a little too quiet.