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“Did you die of bruised ribs? I didn’t know that was possible.” The text reads in Russian. Ilya smiles down at his phone, quickly typing a reply.
“Oh, so you’re a hockey witch and a medical professional? You contain multitudes.” Is his response, also in Russian.
Svetlana sent an eye roll emoji.
“Fuck off. How’s your ‘super serious emergency’ going?”
Ilya paused, staring at his phone. He did feel a little bad for cancelling on Svetlana last minute on their plans to go back to Russia and postponing two weeks. And then postponing it again. And again. And now it’s been a month, Ilya is still at Shane’s cottage, and Svetlana is too smart to be lied to further.
“It’s fine.” Is what he ends up texting her. She says nothing in response.
Ilya knew he would tell her at some point. Svetlana was his oldest friend, or his ex-hook up turned best friend boarder-line sister, at this point. Oldest friend was a much simpler title.
“Hey, I’m going to the store” Shane’s voice called from the kitchen. “Is there anything else I need to add to our grocery list?”
“No, I think we’re good,” Ilya called back.
“Ok, I’ll be back in an hour,” Ilya heard the grabbing of grocery bags and car keys.
“I love you,” Shane said as he opened the front door to leave.
Ilya smiled. “I love you too,” he replied. He heard the door shut, and then he was alone.
He looked at his phone again. Stood up. Sat back down. Placed it on the table and stood up again. Paced around for a minute. Picked up the phone again.
“Yes, Ilya?” Svetlana’s voice said through the phone.
Ilya paused.
“Um. Hi?” His heart was racing. He didn’t know why, but he kinda felt like throwing up.
“Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with you?” Svetlana said immediately. “You sound awful.”
“Wow, thanks,” Ilya snorted. “Real nice.”
“You know what’s nice is disappearing off the face of the earth and not telling me why,” Svetlana snapped, and Ilya instantly felt awful.
“Look. I’m sorry, ok?”
Svetlana said nothing, waiting for him to elaborate.
“I’m…” Ilya wanted to say it out loud. He really did. He wanted to say that he was in love with the greatest hockey player known to man and that he had been for a significant amount of time, and that he was currently in his house, wearing all his clothes, feeling happier than he’d felt in his life. But he didn’t.
“I’m still.. dealing with something.” He cringed at himself. Coward. “I, uhm… can I call you back later?”
Svetlana didn’t say anything, and Ilya could imagine the look of astonishment on her face at his stuttering.
“Yeah. Sure. Call me later when you’ve regained control of your brain.” She said a moment later, but the joke didn’t sound like a joke. She sounded worried.
“Yes. I will. Ok. Bye.” Ilya ended the call, immediately throwing his phone onto the couch.
“Fuck,” he groaned, running his hands through his hair. “Dammit. Shit. Fuck.”
—————
When Shane got home from the grocery store, he found Ilya lying upside down off the couch staring out the window.
“What exactly are you doing?” He asked, placing the bags on the counter.
Ilya just grumbled something and closed his eyes, not moving from his upside down position on the couch.
Shane made his way over to the couch, sitting down on the ground next to Ilya.
“Ok, different question: why are you lying upside down?”
Ilya sighed, his eyes still closed.
“Your dad sent me an article about how it’s supposed to help you think. Something about blood in your brain. Thought I’d try it.”
Shane smiled at him, his heart warming.
“And what are you thinking about?”
Ilya paused, seemingly holding his breath.
“I want to tell Svetlana.”
Shane looked at him.
“Tell Svetlana?”
Ilya nodded (which was difficult from his upside down position).
“I want her to know. About me. Well, she knows about me already. Kind of. I really want her to know about you.”
Shane stared at him in amazement.
“Really? You’re ready for that?”
Ilya nodded again.
“Yes. Is just… we told your parents. We can’t tell mine, obviously. She’s who I want to tell.”
Finally, sat up next to Shane, placing his hand on his knee.
“Can you be with me? When I tell her?”
Shane nodded, taking Ilya’s hand into his own.
“Yeah, of course. Whatever you need,” he leaned over to kiss Ilya. “She’s not coming over, right? Do I have to get dressed up for your big coming out ceremony?” He joked.
Ilya chuckled.
“That would be fun, but no, I’m going to call her later. FaceTime.”
Shane nodded.
“FaceTime it is.”
—————
Later that night, Shane set up Ilyas phone so that it was facing the couch. They had decided Ilya would talk for a little first (with Shane in the next room) and then Ilya would introduce him. This time, when the phone rang, Ilya felt ready.
“Hi,” Svetlana greeted him in Russian. Her face was neutral, but Ilya recognized the glint of concern in her eyes, even through the screen.
“Hey,” Ilya said back, shifting on the couch. He could hear Shane doing dishes in the other room. The sound calmed him.
“So,” Ilya continued. “Obviously you’ve realized I don’t have an actual emergency to attend to,”
Sventlana smiled a little, but it wasn’t her real one. It was a worried one.
“Yes, Ilya, I’m not quite stupid enough to believe your blatant lies. Your charm doesn’t work on me anymore,”
Ilya smiled softly.
“No, but you didn’t believe them back then either,” he replied. “You were always onto me,”
“I know you too well,” Svetlana said with a sigh. “It’s a curse, really,”
Ilya paused, unsure of how to segue into what he wanted to say.
“So. I’m not dealing with an emergency. I’m actually in Canada with…” he took a breath. “My boyfriend.”
Svetlana’s eyes widened, shocked.
“You? Boyfriend?” She said before breaking into laughter. “Oh my god. Who managed
to— no, who CHOSE to domesticate YOU?”
Ilya laughed.
“Yes, well, apparently it can be done by a select type of person,”
Svetlana snorted.
“Wow. I never thought I’d live to see Ilya Rozanov in a committed relationship.” Her eyes softened suddenly, finally taking in the words. “Oh my god. You must really be in love,”
Ilya nodded, smiling.
“Yes. I really am.”
Svetlana squealed.
“Wow wow wow. Ok. Wow!” She propped her face in her hands. “So. When do I get to meet the poor bastard, huh?”
Ilya fidgeted in his seat a little.
“How about right now?” He asked
Svetlana sat up straight.
“Oh yes, I was hoping that was an option. Yes. Right now. Bring him in,”
Ilya took a deep breath before turning toward the kitchen door.
“Hey, Shane,” he called in English. “You can come in now,”
On the phone, Svetlana froze.
“Wait. Shane is…”
Ilya nodded, but said nothing.
“Coming,” Shane called, jogging into the living room and sitting next to Ilya.
“Oh my god,” Svetlana said in Russian, mainly to herself. “Oh my god.”
“Hi,” Shane said sheepishly, waving at the camera. “Um. I’m Shane. It’s nice to meet you,”
Svetlana stared, mouth agape.
“Um, hi,” she said in English. She paused. “I’m sorry. I’m just kind of surprised.” She laughed a little.
Ilya smiled at her.
“So…yeah. This is Shane.”
Svetlana stayed quiet for a second.
“You know what? This is great. I think Hollander is the only person in the world who can match your psychotic hockey fixation,” she looked apologetically at Shane. “No offense, Hollander,”
Shane laughed.
“None taken. You’re probably right,”
“God, he’s still gorgeous. And he’s your boyfriend? Wow.” Svetlana said to Ilya in Russian.
“Oh, actually, I know that word. It’s gorgeous, right? Ilya says it so much I’ve picked up on it,” Shane chimed in with a smile.
“Ugh, what have I become,” Ilya groaned, his head in his hands.
“Domesticated,” Svetlana said in English. “Greatest playboy downfall of the century.”
“Historians will talk about it for years to come,” Shane agreed.
“No one will remember you for your hockey, just your transformation into a simp,” Svetlana grinned and Shane started to laugh.
“This is the worst decision I’ve ever made, introducing you two,” Ilya said miserably.
“Yup,” Shane and Svetlana said at the same time, bursting into laughter at Ilya’s bewildered expression.
Over the next hour, they told Svetlana everything, just like they had done for Shane’s parents weeks before. She hung onto every word, amazed.
At the end of the conversation, Ilya felt so much lighter. He had his fingers entangled with Shane’s, Svetlana laughing on FaceTime sipping a glass of wine, and Shane retelling some story about Ilya to Svetlana’s delight. This was it. These were his people, finally together. He couldn’t stop smiling.
“So,” Svetlana said finally. “Does this mean Rose is single?”