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Ilya was going to throw up. He felt the acid already burning his throat. The roar of the crowd was drowned out by his blood rushing in his ears. Shane had taken a hard hit. It replayed in his head over and over again. They were only in the first period when he had been loaded onto a stretcher and taken off the ice. All he could do was wait. It was agony.
Ilya looked at his phone almost every minute. The updates from Shane’s parents couldn’t come fast enough. He was grateful for them and knew Shane would be in good hands. But that didn’t stop him from thinking of his own mother.
He drove to the hospital as quickly as he could. Definitely broke a couple traffic laws and almost forgot to lock his car. Doubling back cost him time that he didn’t want to spend. He texted Yuna that he was there and ran.
He had to stop himself from throwing the door open. He closed his eyes and took in a breath before entering.
“Ilyaaaaa” Shane said his name in a sing-song tone. Ilya felt his lip quiver. All he had been able to think about was Shane. And here he was, awake and okay. His mind had been going to dark places. Places he didn’t want to speak into existence. He opened his mouth to speak and English failed him. He just stood there.
“Hey. Heyyyyy,” Shane said and stuck out his hand. Ilya shook his head and crossed the room. He took his boyfriend’s hand. His shoulders lost some of their tension.
“Yessss. Bet-ter,” Shane cooed. Ilya looked him over. Shane sustained a concussion and broken collarbone. His arm was in a sling and would be for several weeks. Relatively minor for the hit that he took. It could have been worse. Much worse. And Ilya imagined all the worst.
“You scared me,” Ilya finally spoke. He caressed Shane’s freckles. Those damned freckles. He saw them in his dreams.
“Scared myself,” Shane said. God, he was so high. They had given Shane the good stuff. He looked like didn’t have a care in the world. Ilya had never seen him like this. Being tense was a normal state for him. Getting him to relax took calculated work. Work that Ilya was more than happy to do and it had been working. So much so that he had distracted him during a game and this happened. Ilya was an idiot. How could he let this happen?
“How’s your head?” Ilya asked and gently ran his thumb over Shane’s temple.
“Concussed but I can hardly feel a thing.” Shane brought their hands to his head and tapped his temple with his pointer finger. Shane looked up at him beaming. Yeah. He could tell.
Ilya exhaled sharply. “Marlow feels terrible. He did not mean to hurt you.”
Marlow had more or less begged Ilya to spare him. He knew Cliff didn’t mean to hurt him but he was lucky that Ilya was more worried than angry. He had thought about cutting his teammate into multiple pieces.
“I know. We all get our bell rung eventually, right?” Shane said. Ilya had already silently vowed to never let this happen again. Sure, it was unrealistic to think he can completely protect Shane on the ice, but he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he couldn’t. He did have help. Hayden would have his back and he proved it. Marlow is more than a head taller than him but he got right in his face. Ilya didn’t always understand Shane and Hayden’s closeness but his loyalty was admirable.
“I thought Hayden might kill him. He was like angry small dog,” Ilya said. He didn’t hear what Hayden said but Cliff’s eyes were huge. He looked like he regretted even existing.
“Hayyydennn. He is like a dog. Little pomeranian.” Shane could hardly even get the word “pomeranian” out and it sounded more like mush to Ilya’s ears. He smiled.
“Do you need anything?” Ilya asked. Water, a snack, more pillows, Marlow’s head on a spike.
“You. Here.” Shane gestured toward the bed with his head and then instantly regretted it, grimacing. “I can feel that.”
“Careful,” Ilya chided him but he didn’t need to be told twice. He would have crawled in that bed with him already if he hadn’t been afraid to hurt him. Ilya gently laid down next to Shane. He took his free hand in his and clasped it again. He put his head on Shane’s chest and listened. That steady beat brought down his own heartrate.
They didn’t speak for quite a while. Ilya brought Shane’s hand to his lips and kissed each of his knuckles and then his fingertips. He felt Shane smile. He furrowed his brow.
Ilya felt so guilty. He loved playing with him. On the same team or against. Hockey wasn't his passion like Shane's but he made it exciting. He really was the best. Not that he would ever admit it. But it was his fault Shane was distracted on the ice. Shane had the puck and looked back at him with the biggest smile on his face. God, he was beautiful. He never saw Marlow coming. Ilya couldn’t get in his way in time. If he had just stayed closer to Shane.
“What are you thinkin’ about?” Shane asked. “About” came out sounding more like “aboot.” Silly Canadian.
Ilya took in a breath, “I thought Hayden might have crush on you.” He looked up at Shane with a smirk. “The way he defended you.” Shane looked stunned. His mouth fell open.
“Nooooooo. Hayden has Jackie.” Shane scoffed. Ilya could see the wheels turning in Shane’s head. “They’re married.” Ilya just raised his brow at him.
“They. Have. Kids. Somanykids,” he continued, slurring the last part. Ilya had hit the jackpot. He was incredibly amused.
“He’s not… like us.” Shane whispered. Or tried to. He wasn’t actually very quiet. Ilya chuckled and gave him that look. Shane continued to gape at him.
“Not like you, no. But me?” Ilya tilted his head. Shane considered this, actually considered it. Ilya was holding back a laugh.
“Fuck off,” Shane said. “We’re just friends. We’ve been friends for years.”
“Like we were rivals for years, yes?” Shane’s cheeks reddened.
“Fuck you!” Shane exclaimed. Ilya raised himself up one one elbow and peppered Shane’s face with kisses. Shane put his hand into Ilya’s curls and giggled. Ilya pulled back and looked down at him. Shane, despite his injuries, glowed. His breath caught and he could feel the burn of tears that he had been holding back for hours. He buried his face into Shane’s shoulder.
“I love you. I’m glad you are okay,” Ilya said into his skin.
“I love you too.” Shane rubbed his back. Ilya tried to nonchalantly wipe away his tears on the pillow. Shane played with his curls. He never let anyone do that, only Shane. Well, since his mom. Ilya put one hand up the sleeve of Shane’s hospital gown and the other over his chest. Ilya tapped his fingers on Shane’s chest to the rhythm of his heart beat. He could fall asleep there. His favorite place in the world, Shane’s arms. Well, currently singular arm since the other one was in a makeshift sling.
He still was in awe. Shane wanted him, needed him. How anyone could put up with him he didn’t know. He had to remind himself occasionally that this was real. This sweetheart of a man was his. This fucking boring hockey nerd plagued his existence for years. Being in the daylight with him, in public with him, it was nothing like he ever thought he could feel. Like he was home.
“Mom wants to bring me home to Ottawa," Shane said. Ilya tensed. I can take care of you. In Montreal. I can make you food and take you to any doctor’s appointments. I can help you shower and towel you off. I can keep the lights low and read to the boring New Yorker to you. Anything. Anything to help you feel better. You are the most important thing to me.
“I will take care of you. She does not need to worry.” Ilya said matter of factly.
“You,” Shane paused and booped Ilya’s nose. “Have a cup to win.” Ilya fought the urge to smile.
“Fuck the cup,” Ilya said tersely. Fuck hockey. He wouldn’t be able to focus anyway. It was unprecedented for the team captain to leave but they’d get over it.
“Rozanov, you are unbelievable,” Yuna said from the doorway, shaking her head. David was right behind her and chuckled. Ilya had always insisted they called him “Ilya” but to Yuna when it came to hockey, he would always be “Rozanov.”
“Mooooommmmm,” Shane said like a petulant child. Ilya carefully untangled himself from Shane and sat up on the edge of the bed.
“Nooooooo,” Shane groaned and grabbed Ilya’s sleeve. “Come back.” Ilya looked at Shane’s parents who were both smiling. He dropped back down into the bed.
“You are not abandoning your team in the middle of a season, Rozanov,” Yuna practically barked. She’d make a great coach.
“How long were you listening?” Shane asked incredulously. It didn’t even register to Ilya.
“They do not need me. Look at your son, he needs me,” Ilya gently grabbed Shane’s face with one hand. Shane smiled hard. Ilya scowled at him. “You are not helping. Look needy.”
His smile faded quickly. “Ilya, eww.” He swatted Ilya’s hand away.
“Finish up your season. I know what I’m doing,” Yuna reassured him. David put his arm around his wife. “He’ll be fine, Ilya,” David said. Ilya knew they were right but the idea of Shane recovering without him was excruciating. He wanted to be there for him. Wait on him hand and foot. He didn’t want to have to travel to all these dull cities to play their dull teams. Ilya wanted to make sure Shane had plenty of ginger ale and a well-kissed forehead.
“Fuck the cup,” Yuna mocked Ilya under her breath. David eyed his wife. “I know you understand.” He turned to Ilya. “You can focus on your team.”
“Fine. I finish season. Win the cup. Come back and take Shane home, yes?” He looked back and forth between Yuna and David.
“Only if you win the cup,” Yuna crossed her arms. David smiled and rolled his eyes. Ilya was taking Shane home regardless of what happened and they all knew. She smirked at him.
“Deal,” Ilya stuck out his hand for Yuna to shake. She obliged him. He loved her.
“Heyyyy,” Shane piped up. Ilya turned and Shane looked offended. Ilya melted.
“I will always take care of you,” Ilya whispered and kissed Shane gently on the lips.