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Ilya stands at the floor length glass sliding doors, sipping on his morning coffee, watching the snow fall. Winters at the cottage held a certain kind of magic. Very different from Russian winters… cozier, more magical. This was the first snowfall of the season.
He can hear Shane fussing with his snow boots at the front of the house.
“It’s really not as heavy as it looks!” Shane calls between shucking off his snow pants. “It’s super fluffy!”
Ilya chuckles.
“I know you’re disappointed it wasn’t the workout you were expecting.”
“We could always get creative.” Shane says as his arms drape over Ilya’s shoulders. He plants a kiss to the scruff of Ilya’s jaw.
He turns to face Shane and takes a breath in. No one ever needs to remind Ilya that his husband is the most stunning man on earth. But sometimes the universe offers reminders. The tip of Shane’s nose is just as rosy as his cheeks, the freckles are hiding just below the surface. He looks fresh and sparkly eyed.
Ilya leans into Shane and kisses him slowly.
“The snow makes you very beautiful.” He murmurs against Shane’s cold, plush lips. Shane ducks his head, always horrible at taking compliments.
“You’re ridiculous.” Shane scoffs.
“Is true. I fell in love with you like this,” he gestures vaguely to Shane. “At the rinks.”
It didn’t even register to Shane that this is the version of him Ilya loves most because it reminds him of their beginning, their younger selves. He can’t help but raise up onto his toes to kiss Ilya again.
“I love you.”
Ilya sighs contentedly.
“Ilya,” Shane draws out the name as he registers what he’s seeing on the back deck through their sliding door. “Why is our five month old daughter outside in her stroller in freezing cold temperatures?”
It was their daughter’s first snow. It was tradition to let babies sleep in the cold for immunity. It was healthy to have fresh air. And it helped them sleep better!
Ilya puts his coffee mug down on the counter and holds Shane gently by the shoulders.
“You’re squeaking. Please, do not squeak. Is fine, Shane! She is very safe, and I’ve been keeping an eye on her.”
“Is she at least bundled up? I’m assuming this is some— Russian baptism… thing , but what if she gets sick!” He’s clearly upset, and Ilya almost feels bad for upsetting him.
Since Viktoriya had been born, Shane had become even more of a worrier. He’s apparently something called a… helicopter parent. This was a helpful phrase that Hayden had taught him. It described him perfectly. Shane is the best dad in the entire world. But he worries. And that’s okay.
“Here, let’s go visit her. I’ll explain.”
Shane looks wary but he nods.
Ilya shoves a knit hat over his wild curls and puts slippers on. He opens the door and gestures for Shane to go first.
The snow flakes are floating on a gentle wind, landing in Shane’s dark hair. One even gets caught in his eyelashes.
Ilya can’t help but smile. He rests his palm against Shane’s lower back. They stand at the edge of Viktoriya’s stroller. Shane uses his finger to pull the wool of her hat and blanket away to reveal more of her face. Her button nose is tinged pleasantly pink and her tiny lips are parted with soft slumbering breaths.
She looks like an angel.
And Ilya was right, she was perfectly safe.
“It is called outdoor napping.” Ilya explains. “Very common for babies and children in Slavic culture.”
Shane takes in the fine layer of snowflakes that have accumulated on the outer layer of her blanket.
“Is it safe for her? The weather isn’t that great. It’s literally snowing on her.”
Ilya scoffs.
“No such thing as bad weather. Bad clothing, yes. Not bad weather.”
Shane can’t help but laugh.
“Spoken like a true Russian.”
“It helps make her strong. Her immune system needs fresh air. Keeps her healthy.”
Ilya can still sense a nervousness in Shane.
“She has many layers on. See,” Ilya tugs gently on each layer, “Onesie, wool sweater, sleep sack, and last but not least— blankie.” He beams at Shane.
“You’re such a good dad.” Shane’s voice breaks on the final word. He doesn’t know why he’s so emotional. But ever since Viktoriya was born, everything has made him emotional. He simply can’t believe this is his life sometimes. “I love you so much and we’re so lucky to have you.”
Ilya’s face softens and his eyes crinkle.
“Oh, Shane.” He says softly, his hand comes up to cup Shane’s cheek lovingly. “I love you too. We are lucky to have each other.”
They stand in the silence watching over her.
“I think she sleeps better like this, yes?” Ilya looks down at their daughter’s serene face.
Shane can’t argue. She’s hardly fussed at all since they’ve been out here with her. Not that she’s a terrible sleeper to begin with, because she’s not. But she seems… more peaceful.
“She seems very content.” He agrees, stroking a finger against the curve of her cheek. “Maybe the Slavic countries are onto something.”
“This tradition has been for hundreds of years. I’m surprised Canadians do not do this.”
“We put our infants on hockey skates and let nature run its course.”
They both laugh and Shane leans into Ilya’s warmth.
“We’re training her for the rink. The cold will not bother her. She will be a star in no time.”
It’s a common joke they make, but they’ve already agreed that their daughter will choose her own path. If she grows up to like hockey, great! If she grows up to trip over her own feet and likes books more than people, that is also great!
All Shane and Ilya want is a happy and healthy little family.
“So, how long do we leave her out here?” Shane asks.
“I will make you a coffee and we will watch her from the kitchen island. When we are done we will bring her in, moya lyubov.”
As they slide the glass door shut Shane turns back to Ilya. His curls are haywire from yanking off his winter hat. He gives a crooked smile and starts puttering around the kitchen, getting the necessary things to make Shane a cup of coffee. Shane fucking loves this man.
He presses his chest against Ilya’s back and wraps his arms around his waist. He brings his lips to the curve of his shoulder.
Ilya hums in contentment and relaxes his posture.
“Thank you for teaching me about your traditions. I love them. And I love you.”