Imagining what the hell the water shoes conversation was like at the cottage. They’re getting ready to go down for a swim and Shane’s like: “here,” and passes over the ugliest fucking shoes Ilya has ever seen in his life. Ilya looks at Shane blankly. Shane looks back at Ilya. Ilya’s eyebrows shoot up. “Why are you giving me ugly shoes?”
Shane rolls his eyes and maybe his ears turn a little pink. “The bottom of the lake is gross,” he explains. “Rocks, mud, sticks; you should wear shoes.”
And Ilya, who is used to muscling through most things is weirdly touched by the concern but the shoes are so fucking ugly. “You wear these all the time?” he asks, absolutely delighted.
“Fine, deal with the bottom of the lake—”
“No no,” Ilya says, snatching the shoes. He maybe does it a little too quick, and gets embarrassed, himself. “Was just a question Hollander, jesus.”
They fit Ilya well, but Shane refuses to put his on before he needs to.
“You have extra ugly shoes for guests?” Ilya teases. “Just in case?”
“Those are mine,” he shrugs. “I’m gonna wear my dad’s.”
Which is even more confusingly touching. Ilya and Shane walk down to the water together, Shane with a tote bag of snacks, sunscreen, a soft cooler of drinks, and a stack of two towels. Ilya is utterly charmed by the entire thing. “Gimme something to carry.”
“No, watch where you’re fucking going.”
They get set up on the dock and things quickly devolve from playful conversation to more serious teasing to trying to push each other into the water. Regrettably—or not so regrettably—they end up tumbling in together.
“I beat you,” Ilya taunts when he resurfaces.
Shane shakes water out of his hair. “We fell in at the same time, asshole.”
“Ah, but you were—AH!” Something touches Ilya legs. He nearly jumps out of his skin. “What the fuck!”
“Probably a fish,” Shane shrugs. He’s doing that thing, where he’s smiling but not actually smiling. “Or a plant.” He pauses. “Probably not the snapping turtle, but it’s around somewhere. It’ll bite your dick which is why we can’t skinny dip.”
Ilya looks at him. “There is a turtle that bites dicks??” He not so subtly drifts closer to Shane, gets an arm around his waist and tugs him in. “Where have you brought me?” He teases.
Shane does grin, now. “How’re you liking those water shoes?”
“Yes, fine, they are very good.” Ilya presses a kiss to Shane’s mouth. Then another, then another.
I am constantly thinking about them at the cottage I have a disease.
