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Troy thought for sure that in the midst of a very busy, very stressful play-off season, the Barbeque Nights at Bood’s would stop, yet here he was on the familiar deck surrounded by his teammates. They just came off a successful home game, and the mood was high jovial. While everyone in the hockey world continued to speculate what the reason was behind Ottawa’s continuing success, Troy could tell just from glancing around at the numerous happy faces. The Centaurs have never been more in-sync with each other.
While Troy knew the team was close, he couldn’t help but feel that something changed after the Pride night where Troy finally told the world the truth. Well, he couldn’t speak for the rest of the team, but it had certainly changed something for him. Coming out had changed Troy for the better, for sure. He no longer felt like he had to think carefully over every word he said, or every action he made for fear of being found out. He didn't have to hide behind cruel laughter and petty insults. Instead, he found himself revealing things to his teammates that he never would’ve before, and he knew his teammates– no his friends found themselves doing the same.
-–
Troy thought back to the night after the game that finally broke their long winning streak. Spirits were low because they should’ve won, but for some reason, all their plays fell short, and their usual chemistry as a team felt off.
Ilya called a team meeting for the first time, at least while Troy was on the team, in some random hotel conference room.
“What the hell happened tonight?” Ilya started in a stern, yet kind voice. “We have been so good, and now?”
There was silence for a long time when Troy felt himself speaking up.
“I found out that my dad is having another kid,” Troy admitted. He immediately felt embarrassed by his admission because so what if his dad is having another kid? It shouldn’t affect his game.
But instead of saying that Ilya looked at him with kind eyes and gestured for him to continue.
“I haven’t spoken to him since… well, since I came out. But my mom found out from some friends in our old neighborhood, and she told me.”
Troy took in a deep breath.
“The whole night I just kept thinking about how he is replacing me. Like he messed up and had a gay son, so now he’s gone ahead and had new one.” He was fighting back tears now. “I know that he is an asshole and I am better without him in my life, but there is still a part of me that wishes he would change his mind. That he would accept me as his son.”
Nick laid a big hand on his shoulder and squeezed as Troy tried to subtly wipe his tears away. There were some murmurs of encouragement and support when Wyatt cleared his throat.
“Y’know I haven’t spoken to my folks in years,” Wyatt began. “Not after they kicked Kristy out for being a lesbian.”
Troy remembered how eerily quiet the room got after that. Wyatt was always so loud about his support for his sister, so he knew he was not the only one who was surprised to learn that his parents did not feel the same.
“I thought things would change, y’know, after she and Eve had Isaac. That maybe they would get over their bullshit because they finally had a grandkid,” Wyatt sniffed, like he was holding back tears. “but I haven’t heard a single word outta them. And I know Kristy hasn’t either.”
He looked up at the lights, like he thought maybe the iridescent bulbs would evaporate his tears.
“I miss ‘em so much y’know? But I can’t be around them, not after what they did,” Wyatt’s voice broke. “Not after the way they treated her.”
Troy had never been one for physical affection, but he couldn’t stand it after Wyatt’s admission. He launched himself at Wyatt, tackling him in a hug, which Wyatt accepted eagerly. Troy squeezed him harder as he felt Wyatt’s shoulders shake with sobs. He soon felt other arms wrap around him– Nick’s, and then more and more arms. The team silently held each other as Wyatt cried, and Troy let some more of his own tears go.
Then, the most surprising person broke the silence: Ilya.
“My father, before he died, never told me he loved,” Ilya admitted in the quietest voice Troy has ever heard come from the man. “Not once.”
His hazel eyes shined with unshed tears. “When he was sick, I thought maybe then I would hear but, нет, not once.”
After that, it was admission after admission about their families, and the pressures they felt. Bood admitted that while he loved his parents, he felt the overwhelming pressure to be perfect for them and how felt like he never was. Nick said that his own parents didn’t like Selena and it has put a strain on their relationship. Dykstra revealed that his kid Suzie had another seizure just before the game and felt so guilty he wasn’t there to help.
By the end of the night, there was not a single dry eye and each member was holding on to at least one other guy. There was a time where Troy might’ve sneered or scoffed at the sight of a dozen grown men crying and cuddling together, but not that night. No, it felt like a gift to Troy to feel so much love and friendship from his fellow players. Something he thought he would never have, and would hold so dearly now that he had it.
And then, the next game they won. And the game after that, and the game after that.
–
He smiled fondly at the memory of that special night when he felt a hand brush his cheek which only made his smile grow wider. He looked up into the green eyes of Harris who was wearing his familiar fond grin.
“What’s got you smiling like that, Handsome?” Harris asked warmly.
He was balanced precariously on the arm of Troy’s chair, and Troy decided that was much too dangerous as Harris could fall any moment. He grabbed Harris by the waist and pulled him down until he was seated on Troy’s own steadier thighs– out of safety of course. Harris let out a small chuckle and tucked an errant strand of Troy’s hair behind his ear. It struck Troy how similar this was to the way he imagined Harris would be with a hypothetical boyfriend, back when he was still denying how much he wanted Harris. Now, he couldn’t believe how lucky he was that he was the one Harris bestowed his neverending affection to.
“Nothing,” Troy finally answered. “Just thinking about how lucky I am guess”
“And maybe how lucky you’re gonna get tonight?” Harris waggled his eyebrows suggestively.
Troy just shook his head, and kissed his ridiculous boyfriend on the mouth. Harris happily accepted the kiss and wound his fingers in Troy’s hair. He sighed happily into Harris’s lips before pulling away and leaning his forehead against Harris’s.
“You might get lucky right now if you keep kissing me like that, Buddy.” Harris smiled as pet the nape of Troy’s neck.
And yeah maybe, they stared at each other in a way the guys have described before as “Sappy” and “So Sweet I’m gonna puke” but Troy didn’t care when Harris’s eyes were just so lovely to look at.
Then a loud groan from the fire pit jerked the two out of their little love bubble and they both turned their heads to see Bood, Wyatt and the others in what looked like a very animated, heated argument.
‘What’s that all about?” Troy wondered aloud.
“It’s the Ilya thing again,” Wyat's wife, Lisa who sat in a nearby chair, supplied as she rolled her eyes.
Troy and Harris looked at each other again, but this time they had matching looks of amusement.
The “Ilya thing” as Lisa aptly put it was the ongoing speculation of where Ilya went on his off-days. Any free time the guys had–including tonight– Ilya was off the grid, unable to be reached by anyone. When any player was brave enough to ask what Ilya did during his off days, he would just smile and make some quip, or laugh maniacally. So of course, the guys being well… the guys, they started coming up with outlandish theory after outlandish theory.
Harris tilted his head in a “let’s go see what these idiots have come up with now” gesture, and Troy sighed before gesturing himself like “yes let’s interrupt our very nice cuddle to see how stupid our friends are.” Harris got up and held out his hand, and Troy laced his fingers through his.
By the time Troy and Harris joined the little conspiracy huddle, he was able to hear the tale end of the accusation that Bood makes every time:
“I’m telling you guys two words: Russian. Spy.”
Another loud groan echoed through the group.
“That makes no sense. He’s on national television all the time. Isn't it sort of a cover blown situation?” Nick countered.
“Nah, think about it. No one would suspect Roz to be a spy AND nationally ranked hockey player. It’s one of those ‘hiding in plain’ sight sort of deals,” Bood insisted.
“I don't know man doesn’t seem kinda… I don't know.. Racist? To think he is a spy?” Wyatt asked.
“Racist? How is it Racist?” Bood looked incredulous.
“Well not racist, but like Russianist?” Wyatt scratched his head. “Like y'know how any Russian in every movie turns out to be like this bad spy villain?”
Nods of agreement spread through the group.
“I never said he is an evil Russian spy,” Bood defends. “Just like a Russian Bond type.”
“Do not let Ilya hear that you think of him as James Bond,” Harris joked. “You’ll never hear the end of it.”
Troy snorted at that. He loved the guy, but Ilya certainly did not need an ego boost by any means.
“What if he is going to college or something like that?” Haas supplied because of course Haas would think something as wholesome as that.
“Maybe… but what would he even go to school for?” Wyatt theorized.
Haas shrugged. “English maybe?”
“Dog training?“ Harris suggested with a grin.
“How to be a dick?” Dykstra joked.
“I don't think he needs any more help in that area,” Troy deadpans.
The group let out a collective laugh at that, and Troy fought the squirmy feeling he gets in stomach whenever he successfully lands a joke with the guys.
“I always thought he was sneaking off to wherever Chiron was being trained. Just to spend some more time with the little guy, but that doesn’t make sense now that he lives with Harris.” Wyatt theorizes.
“I don’t know, Harris, have you had any mysterious, big Russians appear in your house to pet Chiron?” Dylsta looked at Harris.
“Not that I know. You’ll have to ask Chiron though.” Harris chuckled.
“What do you think, Troy?” Bood asked, and suddenly all the guys turned their heads to look at him.
The truth was that despite thinking this whole Ilya nonsense was silly, Troy had a few working theories of his own. Well, just one theory really. It was a seed that was planted in his head soon after Ilya told Troy that he was bisexual.
Ilya Rosanov was dating Shane Hollander.
He knew it sounded ridiculous, far-fetched even, but ever since the thought came into his head it never left. And the more he thought about it, the more it made sense.
Like, a little while ago, he finally rewatched the first press conference that Ilya and Shane ever did when they announced not only their friendship, but their plans to start a foundation together. He watched it again because Ilya had invited him to help coach at his and Shane’s hockey camps next summer (and when Ilya did, Troy barely retained the urge to burst into tears that Ilya trusted him of all people to join something so special). He wanted a refresher of what the whole thing was about since the last time he watched he said some terrible homophobic bullshit he used to say and he needed a new experience.
But he couldn’t help but notice how Shane gently touched Ilya when he fought through tears as he explained his mother’s lost battle to depression. How instantly Ilya seemed to relax at the touch. Like it was familiar.
And then there was the time that Bood showed Ilya a video of Shane scoring an impressive goal after one of their own games. Bood said something like “Now you know how I felt when this motherfucker outshone me” while pointing an accusatory finger at Troy. But the look on Ilya’s face was not one of defeat or annoyance that Shane performed better than him. No, the look in Ilya’s eyes reminded him of how Harris looked at Troy whenever he caught him in his hockey gear. Arousal.
Then, in their last game against Montreal he swore he saw Ilya adjust himself after Shane slammed him against the glass. And when he looked at Shane, Troy noticed a faint blush spread across those famous freckles. Like their whole… thing was some sort of weird flirting ritual.
He may not be as good at reading people as Ilya was but the pieces just started adding up.
Of course, he could never speak his theory aloud. Because for one, he would have to out Ilya and Troy would never betray his trust like that. Not when Ilya was so kind to him. He knew Ilya would tell the team eventually, but still, it was his choice to make, not Troy’s. And also, there was still that smidgeon of doubt next to all the evidence. That maybe Troy was just reading into things, and Ilya and Shane were just two friends who happened to both be queer.
So instead of answering Bood’s question with all that, he just shrugged and said, “I don’t know. It’s Ilya’s private life. Who cares what he does with it?”
Several blank stares met his own.
He thought for a moment he effectively ended the “Ilya thing” conversation, at least for tonight.
And then Dykstra blurted out: “What if he is like a big time bank robber or something?”
He sighed and plopped his head against Harris’s shoulder and listened to his stupid friends argue for the rest of the night. He tried to feel annoyed or exasperated at the very least. But as Harris nuzzled against him, and as he was surrounded by people who accepted him and protected him for he was, all he could feel was warm.