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Yuna and David are just sitting down to eat when her phone starts ringing. Her son’s name flashes across the screen, and she puts down her cutlery to answer the phone.
“Mom?” Shane sounds shaky, like he’s on the verge of tears, and Yuna is immediately on guard.
“What’s wrong, honey?” she asks, ready to soothe and take care of him.
“Uhm, I need a favor.” He sighs loudly over the phone, and Yuna considers putting the phone on speaker, but David looks unbothered, stuffing his mouth full of pasta on the other side of the table, so she doesn’t want to worry him yet. “This is going to sound really weird, but just– stick with me here, okay?”
“Okay,” she hedges out slowly. “What is it?”
“You know the game tonight? Boston and Ottawa?”
She hums in affirmation, but Shane doesn’t continue. She chews her lip, unsure what he’s waiting for. “We didn’t watch it.”
“Right.” That seemed to get him out of it, wherever his head was at. “Right, okay, so you didn’t see… Il– Rozanov got hurt. And, well, I guess he’s in the hospital, but he probably doesn’t have his phone, so I don’t know how bad it is, and I just– Mom, I really need to know.” Shane stops rambling for a moment, almost choking, as if he’s actively holding back tears. Yuna’s heart melts.
“Can you go visit him for me? I’m just– I need to know that he’s okay.”
She would do anything her son asks, no matter how bizarre it sounds. She doesn’t dare ask any more questions, knowing that right now her son probably can’t handle all the thoughts running rampant in her head.
“Of course, baby. Which hospital?” she asks instead, and Shane lets out an audible breath, like he was holding it in anticipation of her rejection.
Shane rattles off the information he knows. She wonders how he knows; the whereabouts of professional athletes aren’t usually disclosed immediately, only to coaches and family. She doesn’t ask.
“Call me as soon as you know something, please?”
“We will. I’ll talk to you later.” She lets him hang up and looks up at her husband.
“What was that about?” David asks when their eyes meet.
Yuna looks down at her food, now gone lukewarm, and doesn’t know what to say. Or, rather, she knows the words, but she doesn’t know what they mean.
“We have to go see Ilya Rozanov at the hospital.”
David, to his credit, barely asks any questions. Maybe he can see in Yuna’s face that she doesn’t have the answers, or maybe he isn’t as rattled as she is, but he takes charge – he cleans up the dishes when she’s finally able to scarf down her food, he drives them there, and he asks after their son’s rival in the reception.
“Mr. Rozanov is in a private room, and we’re not letting anyone in to see him but his emergency contacts, unfortunately,” the nurse says sagely, barely looking up from her screen.
Yuna and David look at each other. That was an obstacle they hadn’t thought about. But her husband is clever, and really, she should have thought of this herself, but her mind is a whirlwind despite how calm she’s trying to seem on the outside.
Her husband clears his throat and looks at the nurse again. “Would one of those be Shane Hollander? We’re his parents; he’s out of state, so he sent us.”
The nurse looks up at them then with a gauging look. She seems to consider something before turning back to the screen to make a note. “He’s in room 133, just left at the end of the hall, but he isn’t awake yet. I’ll send a doctor to update you on his status.”
Yuna should probably feel more surprised that her son is listed as one of Ilya Rozanov’s emergency contacts, but somehow, she just feels numb.
“Thank you,” David says for them both.
Ilya Rozanov looks small, despite his large frame, vulnerable as he sleeps. She feels restless, but is unable to take her eyes off of him, wanting to ask him all the questions she’s been holding back, but she knows that it isn’t fair to ambush him.
She thought they hated each other, and suddenly Shane is sending his parents to make sure Ilya Rozanov, of all people, is alright? It wouldn’t make sense if it weren’t for the fact that Yuna knows her son is soft and pliable, willing to give everyone a chance if they’re not an asshole. The thing is, she thought Rozanov would never be one of those people.
The doctor comes by the room, letting them know that Rozanov has to stay off the ice for two months to heal his broken ribs, just to be on the safe side. And oh God, she probably needs to be the one to tell him that.
An hour goes by. They need to leave soon before visiting hours end, and she hopes he wakes up before then. Shane has been texting her, but without Rozanov awake, he doesn’t believe anything she tells him, so she just said that she would call as soon as Rozanov woke up.
The sun has slipped below the horizon outside, and David yawns next to her, where they’re sitting on the room's uncomfortable plastic chairs. “I’ll go grab a coffee,” he says, kissing her on the crown of her head as he stands. He doesn’t bother asking her if she wants anything, knowing that caffeine sets her on edge in the evening.
It isn’t long before Rozanov starts squirming in his bed, and Yuna sighs. Of course, she had to be alone for this. He’s opening and closing his hand as though he wants to reach out for something, and Yuna gets up from her chair to stand next to him, waiting patiently for him to wake up.
A heavy gaze lands on her face. He is blinking slowly, but she can’t tell if it’s because his mind is still clearing or if he’s just trying to place who she is.
She goes for something safe.
“Hello,” she says softly.
Rozanov hums and closes his eyes briefly as he turns his whole head the other way with effort. She is about to open her mouth and ask if he knows who she is, but he beats her to it.
“Did Shane send you?”
Shane. Dear Lord, she had never thought there would come a day when the two rivals wouldn’t be spitting out each other’s last names in contempt.
“Yes,” she responds. “He wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Mm’ fine. Can go now,” he mumbles, his speech slurred by his heavy accent, as if the fog in his brain is making English hard for him.
She’s been a mother for 25 years, together with David for even longer. She knows when a man is lying, when he’s trying not to make a big deal out of how hurt he’s feeling.
“I think I’ll stay, if that’s alright with you.”
She pulls one of the chairs to angle it by the bed, sitting just by his knees so that she’s still able to take him in, noticing his body language when he turns his head towards her again.
“Okey,” is all he says, but his eyes linger on her face, contemplating, as if they’re searching for something.
A beat passes, but the heavy silence isn’t uncomfortable. It isn’t either of their first time in these hospital positions.
She relays his injuries to him, thinking that though he might not want her there, at least he’ll have an interest in knowing about his own health.
“Tell him I am fine.” He closes his eyes again, but she doesn’t know if it is in pain or for fear of looking into her eyes. “He does not need to worry.”
She sighs.
How did they get there? Why did her son break down when asking his parents to go visit his rival, and why is said rival’s first thought upon waking to reassure Shane that he’s okay?
She hadn’t known what to think when Shane called. They’d known each other for years – of course Shane wouldn’t want to see his opponent hurt, but for him to send her to his hospital bed? She knew that there were probably some things he wasn’t telling her.
They’d always suspected Shane might be gay or maybe indifferent – he’d never had a girlfriend and showed no interest in dating when they talked about it, citing that hockey was the most important focus for him right now. It wouldn’t surprise her if he had fallen for someone simply because they were spending a lot of time together, griping at each other, and being obnoxious (probably mostly Rozanov’s doing, but she knew her son could handle his own). But one of the things Shane loved the most was being challenged on the ice, and, well, maybe Rozanov challenged him in other ways, too.
She had just expected it to be an unrequited crush, because– could you blame her? Rozanov was such a ladies' man and a provocative asshole, but maybe he liked her son a little bit in return, if the tiny jerk of his lips when he said Shane’s name was anything to go off of.
“I’ll call him. You can tell him yourself,” she says, knowing in her heart that he’s right, Shane is going to be worried sick, and there’s no better cure than to hear the voice of Rozanov himself telling Shane that he is fine.
She fishes her phone out of her pocket and dials him. She isn’t surprised when he picks up the phone immediately.
“Mom?” he asks. Before she can even take a breath, he’s rambling on. “How – how is he? Is he okay?”
She lets go of her breath. “Yeah, honey. A contusion on his head and two broken ribs, which means he’ll have to stay off the ice for a bit, but he’ll be fine.” She hears her son’s shaky breath on the other end of the line, and her heart breaks a little bit for him. “He’s okay, Shane.”
“That’s– that’s– Yeah, okay. Okay, that’s good.” He’s rambling, and Yuna knows he needs more reassurance than just her words.
“You want to talk to him?” she asks, keeping her voice gentle.
His response is a small “please”, but Yuna thinks it sounds something like worship. She hands over the phone.
From the surprised look on Rozanov’s face, Shane is rambling immediately, but when she sees the fond smile on his lips, it occurs to her that he is used to her son’s antics, that, hell, he might even like him for it.
“Yes, yes. I am okay.” A pause. “Two months off.”
Shane is saying something on the other end of the line, and Rozanov scoffs. “No. No reason. You stay.”
Another pause, and Yuna just watches him as he listens to her son talking. He is… not nervous, but he has one hand bunching the sheets by his side and is looking down at it, as if it’s affronting to him that he can’t be passive when speaking to Shane.
“Yes. Okay,” he’s saying now. He takes a deep breath before he lets out words Yuna didn’t think she’d ever hear out of Rozanov’s mouth, let alone directed at his rival, her son. “Thank you.”
The shock must show on her face, and she is openly staring at him, but Rozanov says nothing about it as he reaches forward to give the phone back to her. “Shane will talk to you now.”
“Yes?” she says into the phone.
“Mom, I know this is a lot to ask, but I was wondering if you could take him back to your house? He’ll need someone to take care of him, and he– he doesn’t have anyone else. I’ll be home by the end of the week and take him off your hands, okay?“
She doesn’t know how to refuse him, or Rozanov, who, if she doesn’t say yes, will likely have to stay in a hotel room all alone before he is cleared to fly again, and then go home to an empty apartment, an empty city. How could she? Her son clearly cares about the other man, and he’s never asked for anything like this before.
“Of course. We’ll take care of him.”
Rozanov’s eyes lift, giving her an inquisitive look. He probably knows what Shane is asking, but he looks scared to hope, maybe is just scared to go home with the parents of his… whatever, people he doesn’t actually know.
David comes back shortly after and, upon finding Rozanov awake, asks him how he’s doing. It’s a true testament to her willpower that she’s able to drag her eyes away from the man nervously smiling at them from the bed, but she sits down again, thinking everything over.
Rozanov needs to stay overnight for observation, but they’ll come back in the morning to sign him out. He tries protesting, even when Yuna shuts him down, but his voice only trails off when David puts a hand on his shoulder, awkwardly patting him in commiseration. Rozanov looks vulnerable, like he’s never received platonic affection so willingly before.
They get the number for Rozanov’s coach and meet him in the hotel lobby, where he has all of Rozanov’s stuff packed and ready to go. Yuna didn’t tell the coach who she was over the phone; she only said that he would be staying with them to recover, but the coach seems to recognize them immediately as Shane Hollander’s parents when they meet him.
“Aren’t you…” He trails off, unsure whether he’s right or not, and if he should say it. He looks at them with a raised eyebrow, but hands over the bags of hockey gear, travel clothes, and a denim jacket without saying anything else.
Yuna is the one who responds. “Thank you. You can tell the team that he’s recovering with family. He’ll be in good hands with us.”
The coach looks dazed at her, but nods. Yuna doesn’t doubt that he won’t tell anyone he saw them, both because he looks too confused to piece the puzzle together of their involvement, but also because his saying anything to the other players would inevitably bring more questions and probably media attention that none of them wants right now.
In the morning, they bring Ilya – and really, her mind is reeling trying to not to call him by his last name – a change of clothes and a breakfast sandwich. David is there, slinging his arm across Ilya’s back to support his weight just enough for it not to be painful for either of them. Rozanov doesn’t complain, but follows them willingly out to their car, and promptly falls asleep on the short drive back home.
They set him up in Shane’s old bedroom. It’s a little awkward, neither side knowing what to say to each other; they’re still not sure what the deal is with him and Shane, but the man is so subdued and quiet upon entering their home that Yuna feels more unsure than she ever has. Where is the arrogant ass she’s been hating for years? The man in front of her looks more like a scared child afraid of doing anything wrong, trying to lessen the burden of staying with them by making himself as small and helpful as possible.
Shane isn’t able to fly back home until the end of the week, when there’s a break in their scheduled games. But Yuna knows this doesn’t mean a break in practices, so she asks outright what he plans to do when the team starts training again in Montreal.
“It’s just practice, mom,” is what he says, and to that, she has no answer. She’s stunned. Even skipping one practice session for reasons that aren’t related to his own injuries sounds so unlike her son that Yuna is starting to wonder if he was abducted and she’ll be visited by an alien instead.
“If it’s alright, I’ll probably be too tired to drive back immediately, so I’ll stay with you for a little bit. And then, Ilya doesn’t have to go back to Boston just yet, so I’ll take him back to Montreal with me. The team doesn’t mind me skipping a few practices. I told them I have a family thing.”
Yuna knows she told Rozanov’s coach he was staying with family, but Shane calling him part of their family, too, does something to her heart. He’s in love. It’s so clear now.
“Okay, honey,” she replies, because what else is she supposed to say? He clearly already has a plan, and she has never been able to sway her son when his mind is set, although she is very surprised to hear him planning to skip practice. “Send us your flight details.”
Ilya Rozanov is the perfect house guest. A week ago, she could not have predicted that she would have her son’s Russian rival lounging around in her living room, but that is the reality of the now. It took him almost two days to come out of his shell, and Yuna has to admit that David did most of the coaxing.
Ilya tried hiding out in Shane’s room, but she supposed it must have been awkward for him too, staying in a house with your… something’s parents and hiding from them. He did need a lot of rest, though, but when he spent time in the family room, David was good at asking him questions that didn’t revolve around hockey or Shane, which seemed to do the trick to make the young man comfortable.
He always asked to help them make dinner or clean up afterwards, he tried being polite and asking them questions as well, and on the second day, when David asked if he wanted to watch a movie with them in the living room after dinner, Ilya didn’t hesitate to say yes.
They were starting to joke around, and two days later, she found both men on the living room floor, a puzzle spread out on the coffee table. She could admit that she was having trouble warming up to the man, but it warmed her heart to see David embracing him so wholeheartedly. Yuna just couldn’t let go of her apprehension, when she didn’t know what Shane and Ilya meant to each other, and she didn’t want to let the man into her heart if he wasn’t meant to have a room there forever. It was clear that Shane cared, but Ilya could be trying to make a good impression out of gratitude, not love. She just wasn’t ready to get over the fact that they had been rivals for close to a decade.
Ilya had begun to make himself at home, and it scares Yuna, just a little bit.
In the afternoon, she finds him alone on the couch, phone pressed to his ear, listening intently. He grins up at her as she walks past him on her way to the kitchen. He seems so comfortable now, lounging around the house, wearing what is clearly one of Shane’s hoodies that he must have either forgotten in the house or that Ilya had maybe already had in his bag. She can tell it’s Shane’s because of the way it’s just a little too tight on Rozanov, and the soft green color is one she’s seen Shane wear multiple times, so different from the black and white Rozanov normally wears.
Ilya is talking softly now, and she wonders idly if it’s family back in Russia, or a friend, or –
“Shane,” she hears him hiss. “I am not alone.”
Yuna’s eyes widen, and she silently turns to walk back into the kitchen, leaving the two boys to talk alone.
Right. Of course, they talk on the phone. It really shouldn’t surprise her, yet everything she’s been learning about Ilya and his relationship with her son keeps shocking her.
As she’s fixing ingredients for a smoothie, she can hear Ilya’s soft voice and laughter floating into the room, making her heart happy.
David picks Shane up from the airport on Friday afternoon. Yuna is on the couch, trying to finalize a deal with a new sponsor, and Ilya is on the floor again, head bent over the nearly finished puzzle. He hums in pleasure every time he fits a puzzle into its correct spot, but the silence that stretches between these moments is comfortable, a very nice change from how it was at the beginning of the week.
The door shuts loudly, and she can hear David’s sentence trailing off as they’re toeing off their shoes, and then there’s a fully grown Shane Hollander standing in her living room, barely sparing her a glance.
“Ilya,” Shane breathes out, beelining directly towards the man. He plops down on the floor, crowding into the other man’s space, making himself comfortable there. Shane’s hands come up to frame Ilya’s face, checking him out for any visible signs of injury, even when he knows there are none, especially after a week of healing. Ilya seems to melt at the attention.
“Are you okay?”
“Shane,” Rozanov is protesting, trying to push Shane’s hands away from his face, but he’s also smiling, like he’s thoroughly enjoying having the other man all up in his personal space. “Shane, I am fine.”
Shane looks satisfied with what he finds and draws back to simply look at Ilya.
“Hi,” he whispers when they lock eyes. There’s so much intimacy in just that one word, as if it’s meant only for Ilya’s ears, but if they wanted privacy, it’s a little too late now. Yuna is transfixed, unable to draw her gaze away from the two men, waiting to see what they’ll do.
Ilya has barely whispered his “Hello” back before Shane continues on an exhale, “I missed you”. And this time it’s Ilya's hand that comes up to touch Shane’s face, gripping him around the chin, holding him and his small smile in place. Yuna doesn’t know if they’re even aware that she’s still in the room, but she’s certainly not going to say anything.
“Yes,” Ilya answers, his voice rising to normal levels again. And if Yuna hadn’t spent the last week with another version of the famous Rozanov, she might not have been surprised at what he says, but she is, a little bit. This is the first time she’s seen the two men interacting off the ice, she realizes, and all the while Ilya has been a perfect gentleman in her house, she sort of forgot about the asshole facade he usually puts on.
He continues, a playful smirk on his face now as he studies Shane’s somber face. “Of course you did. I am irresistible.”
Shane scoffs and pushes Ilya’s hand down. “Shut up.”
Though they’re still clinging to each other, it seems to ease the tension between them, and Yuna wonders if that was Ilya’s intention. Although she’s only had a five-minute glimpse into their relationship, it seems Ilya is able to read her son just as well as his parents are.
Shane turns his head down into Ilya’s neck, nestling into him, while they’re hugging each other. His hands idly roam to Ilya’s stomach, where she knows Ilya’s ribs are still hurting, but neither of them says anything about it.
They both look so relaxed, so happy to be back in each other’s arms.
Yuna turns back to the phone in her hands. She tries to ignore the whispered reassurances she can hear coming from them, and tries not to notice how Ilya's hand is running up and down Shane’s back in silent comfort.
When they finally draw back from each other, she thinks she can hear Shane sniffling a bit, and Ilya looks at him with so much love in his eyes.
“Is this my shirt?” Shane asks when he finally notices what Ilya is wearing, the hoodie he’s been practically living in for the past week.
Ilya just shrugs at him. “Is comfortable.” He leans in to press a short kiss to Shane’s hairline.
“Hey, you’re almost done!” David exclaims as he walks back into the room and sees the puzzle on the table.
Yuna feels like a bad wife when she realizes she hadn’t even noticed he had left the room, but he’s smiling so sweetly at her that she thinks he might be able to read her mind and is offering her forgiveness, and she’s taking it, reaching out a hand to run comfortingly down his arm in apology.
David doesn’t seem surprised to see the two men embraced on the floor, but simply sits down beside them, starting in on the puzzle again.
Shane extricates himself from Ilya, but doesn’t go far, pressing up beside him with a hand clenched around his thigh, as though any more distance would be intolerable to him. Ilya keeps his hand on Shane’s back in reassurance, but also returns his attention to the puzzle.
Shane looks up to find Yuna still looking at them, and she gives him a soft smile in return.
“Hi, Mom,” he says, looking a little bashful.
“How was your flight?” she asks, knowing that he needs the attention redirected from the very vulnerable moment she was just witness to.
“Long and boring. I was anxious to get home.” He shoots a tiny look at Ilya, but he is too engrossed in the puzzle in front of him to notice.
David joins the conversation. “What’s the plan?”
“Well, I have to be back to training on Monday. We can– I’ll take Ilya back with me. Maybe not until Sunday, though, if that’s okay – I’m really beat. But you guys don’t need to take care of him anymore.” He looks at Rozanov – Ilya, she reminds herself, with a soft smile. “That’s my job.”
“We’ve had fun, haven’t we, Ilya?” David grins up at the two boys – men, she thinks – “Your boyfriend is really polite, it turns out.”
Shane laughs weakly, looking at Ilya with surprise.
“Hmm, I like that word,” Ilya chimes in. “Boyfriend.” It’s the first time all week the term has come up.
“Shut up,” Shane scoffs. It’s the second time he’s said that in the last half hour, but Yuna stops herself from scolding him. It’s only that she’s not used to Shane speaking like that in front of her, but Rozanov doesn’t look surprised, so maybe it isn’t unusual for them to hear these remarks come out of each other’s mouths.
“Ah, sorry,” David offers. He looks like he is about to argue that he didn’t mean to overstep, but holds his tongue when he sees how Shane’s cheeks and ears are turning pink. Yuna is about to steer the conversation to safer ground when Shane starts talking again.
“Really, it’s been okay?” Shane asks, choosing to overlook the unspoken boyfriend floating around them. His voice is small, like he’s scared of their answer, and he looks directly at Yuna, as if he knows she’s the one who’s had the hardest time taking in Rozanov and learning about her son’s relationship.
“Of course.” Yuna stands up. “Shane?” she calls over her shoulder. “Will you help me prepare dinner?”
They talk a little bit while Yuna prepares the salad and Shane stands at the stove. It isn’t the most groundbreaking conversation, but Shane admits that he is gay and had been scared to come out, scared of what it would mean for him and his future, and how his parents would react.
“This isn’t how I wanted you to find out, but – He makes me happy.”
She hugs him, as tightly as humanly possible, and runs her fingers under his eyes to rub his tears away. “It’s okay, honey. Maybe we hadn’t expected Rozanov of all people, but it’s really okay. You’re a good kid, and he – he is, too.” She almost chokes up at the way her son is looking at her. “If you want to be together, we’ll figure something out that won’t put your careers in jeopardy, okay?”
“Mom,” Shane averts his eyes. “Thank you for taking care of him for me.”
“I love you,” she responds instead, leaning in to hug him again.
He mumbles the affection back into her shoulder.
Dinner is the happiest it’s been all week. Shane brings a new energy to the house, and Yuna hadn’t realized how on edge she had been this whole time. Now, she’s noticing the soft looks they’re giving each other and the way their hands are clearly grasped together under the table, and the room fills with love.
She wants to give David and Shane a little room to talk, so she urges Rozanov to help her with the plates after dinner, and he seems to understand the invitation for what it is.
“You had a good talk with Shane, yes?” he asks, as he’s rinsing off the last plate and handing it to her. They can hear David talking in the other room, but she can’t make out any of his words. She nods at Ilya, not really knowing what to respond.
“It is good. Your family. Shane is lucky.”
“I think,” Yuna says, making sure to look him in the eye when she says this, “that the three of us are the lucky ones for having Shane love us.”
If she weren’t standing so close to him, she might not have noticed how the tips of Rozanov’s ears turn pink, but she does. Maybe they haven’t talked about their love yet, but Yuna can see it as clear as day on both of their faces when they’re together; she can even hear it in their voices when they speak.
She politely ignores Ilya’s reaction and focuses on drying off the plate in her hands.
They put the hockey game on, Boston vs. Florida, knowing that Ilya will want to follow along with how his team is doing. He has gotten more comfortable this past week, and as they’re settling on the couch, he saunters in from the kitchen and settles himself in front of Shane, right between his legs.
Shane sneaks a glance over at his parents, but Yuna holds her tongue, while David simply smiles at the two of them. It does the trick, as Shane releases a sigh and widens his legs to make more room for Rozanov to lean back and nestle against his chest. He doesn’t seem to know what to do with his hands for a minute, but ends up curling them around the other man’s forearms, encircling him.
It’s David who breaks the tension in the room while they’re waiting for the game to begin.
“So what’s the deal with you two, then?”
Shane balks, like he hadn’t anticipated they would come right out and ask him, or that they might have already inferred enough not to bring up the conversation. Yes, he had just come out to both of his parents, even though they’d known after this week, but it didn’t leave them less baffled as to why and how he had ended up together with his rival.
“Ilya didn’t tell you?” He looks down at Ilya on his chest, as Ilya shrugs back at him.
“Not my place to tell, I thought.”
“Well, we’re, uhm – we’re together. I think.”
“Boyfriends,” Ilya supplies. His attention doesn’t waver from the screen in front of him, so he doesn’t see the lovesick smile that plays on Shane’s face at this.
Shane faces Rozanov head-on and whispers, maybe hoping his parents won’t hear the vulnerability in his voice, “Yeah?”
“Yes. Boyfriends. I want.”
And Ilya reaches out to lace his fingers through Shane’s, right there on the couch, for them all to see.
Yuna looks at David with a soft smile. Their son is in love, and their son is loved back. A tension seems to ease from between her shoulder blades, and she reaches out to thread her fingers through her husband’s, too.
“When did that happen?” David asks again.
“I thought you hated each other,” Yuna adds. Now that they’ve started asking the questions, they might as well get the answer to everything they’ve been holding back.
Shane is the one who answers. “I don’t know if we ever did, to be honest. I mean, yeah, Ilya can be an asshole –”
“Hey!”
“– but he can also be really sweet, and well, we have a lot in common.”
“I am not boring,” Ilya grumbles, just to be cross. Shane smacks him on the arm.
“It just kind of happened,” Shane continues.
David’s curiosity seems to get the better of him, and he asks, “When?”
They might have been prepared to hear the word ‘boyfriend’, but they’re definitely not prepared for the answer to this question. Ilya smirks and finally turns to look up at Shane, a twinkle in his eyes. Shane suddenly looks nervous, and Yuna doesn’t want to infer anything, but –
“Since rookie season,” Shane mutters.
“The whole time?” Yuna exclaims, aghast. She can’t believe none of them had noticed their son being in love, let alone sleeping with the enemy right under their nose.
“Not true,” Ilya says, seeming to consider whether he should continue or not, when David gives him a quizzical look. He does, clearly wanting to clarify. “Summer before.”
“We’ve only been serious for a little while,” Shane mutters again.
Yuna splutters. She is simply speechless. It’s a good thing that she has a husband with a clearer head than hers, then.
“How does it work?” David asks.
“We see each other when we can and text and talk when we can’t.” Shane shrugs, like it isn’t a big deal that his ten-year – and that might be the biggest bombshell of them all – situationship has consisted mainly of sneaking around every once in a while and talking on the phone.
“Don’t forget FaceTime,” Ilya adds. “I like seeing your pretty freckles on my screen more than dumb texts.” And he reaches up to drag a finger over Shane’s face, sighing like even that simple touch settles some kind of calm over him.
“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Shane smiles down at Ilya, a smile so full of love that Yuna feels as though she has to look away.
She finally breathes out. “Wow.”
David squeezes her hand in answer. He doesn’t seem to have any more questions right now, and for that, she’s grateful. She’s not sure she could handle any more revelations.
She settles against his side and focuses her gaze back on the hockey game.
In the morning, she finds David already flipping pancakes in the kitchen. She knows the boys are up too, because Shane has always been an early riser, even before he had early hockey practices, and she could hear them talking through the door when she walked down the hallway.
It didn’t even occur to her that this was the first time Shane had brought someone home to visit his parents, might even be the first time he’s had a sleepover at their place.
Only a short time passes before they’re entering the kitchen too, saying ‘good mornings’, in Shane’s case, and yawning, in Ilya’s. She notices that Ilya is still wearing the green hoodie, but what she notices even more is the fact that Shane is wearing a T-shirt that is definitely not his. It has a Boston Raiders logo on the shoulder, for Christ's sake. She never thought she would catch her son dead in anything related to that team, but well, here they are.
She thinks she deserves a medal for how she decidedly doesn’t comment on it.
They spend a very normal, very lazy Saturday at home. Yuna even forgets to find it weird that Rozanov is in her house, until she accidentally walks by their open bedroom door to find them kissing on the other side. She freezes in the hallway.
She’s never seen her son so affectionate with anyone, and the kiss they’re sharing now, as she tears her eyes away from them and hurries back to her husband, is so sweet, like they’ve been doing this for years, like it’s second nature to them. And it really hits her then that this is the real deal for her son. That they have been together for years, maybe not officially, but enough for it to create this bond between them, one that she thinks might even resemble the bond that she and David share.
She almost wants to cry about it, but she holds the tears back. She can do that after they leave, when she and David have time to talk this over. For now, there should just be happiness.
They stay until Sunday morning, and both Yuna and David hug Ilya, careful of his ribs, when they say goodbye.
“You’re always welcome here,” she says, hoping her tone will convey just how much she means it. She’s come to think of him almost as a second son this past week, and with how smitten both the boys look, she isn’t scared of their imminent end anymore. No, now she gets to be scared for their future instead, but also hopeful.
If Ilya Rozanov can make her son this happy, he will always have a place at their table. Even if they are still rivals.