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Something is off with Troy.
Ilya notices it right away.
Troy isn't a big talker or a sunshine on his best day, but today, a dark cloud of rain seems to follow him wherever he goes. He's frowning from under the brim of his basecap, and Ilya has definitely noticed the venti Starbucks cup.
“Barrett,” Ilya plops down next to him in the locker room, “are you heart attack-maxxing?” The kids taught him that, and he thinks it's very funny. Troy winces.
“Please don't say that.” He rubs his face, and Ilya can hear the scrape of his stubble against his palm. “Just slept like shit.”
“Harris keep you up all night?” Ilya wiggles his eyebrows. Troy winces again, harder this time, and averts his eyes.
“I don't want to talk about it.” His tone tells Ilya to better back off. Something is definitely wrong.
“Okay,” he says quickly, then stands. He briefly squeezes Troy's shoulder in a show of support before leaving him alone.
He's definitely going to Harris’ office later.
-
At lunchtime, Ilya sticks his head through the PR office door.
“Hi. Is Barrett here?” He normally spends time with Harris when he can.
Harris looks up from his PC. His eyes are rimmed red, and he looks like shit. Uh-oh. “Hi, Ilya. No, he’s not here.” He gives Ilya an uncharacteristically small smile which doesn’t reach his eyes.
Ilya narrows his eyes slightly, and Harris ducks his head, looking away, pretending to see something very interesting on his screen.
Ilya stares at him for another second before letting it go. “Okay. Tell him to find me if you see him.”
“Okay, I will.”
Ilya is very close to offering Harris to film a spontaneous Q&A to cheer him up, so he quickly leaves his office instead.
-
Shane doesn’t mean to. It’s just, he’s on the stairmaster, and Luca is on the ergometer in front of him, scrolling on his phone while he warms up, and from this angle, Shane can see the screen.
And it’s not like he’s nosy, or staring. His eyes are just naturally drawn to it. Luca is slowly scrolling through someone’s profile. He opens one of their reels; it’s a shot of a handsome young man blowing a kiss at the camera before the video is edited to him in some kind of costume Shane very vaguely recognizes from movie posters. He’s sure Wyatt would know. Luca scrolls to the next video, which seems to be an edited montage of how the costume was made, intercut with the guy talking. He’s got glasses on in this one, and is talking animatedly in front of a sewing machine, brown curls bobbing along. From this angle, Shane can’t see all the details, but he can tell he’s quite cute.
Luca scrolls some more, then exits the reels and taps ‘message’. The chat popping up is not empty, and Shane can see at least three hearts in the messages they have exchanged. Luca stares at the chat for a few seconds, then exits it.
Shane’s watch is vibrating, reminding him that it’s time to move on to the next exercise. He doesn’t.
Luca re-opens the chat, thumbs hovering over the screen. Shane can only see him from behind, but his shoulders seem tense. He doesn’t type anything, then suddenly locks his phone and tosses it into the cupholder of his ergometer.
Shane gets off of the stairmaster, and immediately speed-walks his aching thighs out of the gym to find Ilya.
-
“Shane.” Ilya’s face is so serious that it startles Shane.
“What’s wrong?”
“I think Barrett and Harris had a fight.”
Shane blinks slowly at Ilya, trying to understand what he’s getting at. “Okay?”
“They are not talking to each other. Barrett is miserable,” Ilya explains matter-of-factly, gesturing to emphasize the importance of this information.
“Is it affecting his game?” Shane asks, and Ilya just stares at him with an expression that says really?
Shane tries again. “Have you tried talking to Troy?” Troy and Ilya are friends, which is nice, in Shane’s opinion. He knows Ilya felt very lonely for a long time- knowing he has more people he can trust in his life is good. And having more gay friends probably doesn’t hurt, either. However, at the same time, Ilya is Troy’s captain, and a person he respects.
“He refused to say anything. I will try again later,” Ilya says, with determination.
Shane crosses his arms. “...do you think it’s bad? Like, break-up bad?” He lowers his voice when he says it. Now they’re standing in the hallway outside the locker room, gossipping.
Ilya pulls a face. “I don’t know, I hope not.” His eyebrows pull together in a low furrow. Friends and acquaintances around them have broken up a ton of times. None of their gay friends or acquaintances, though, which is weird, now that Shane thinks about it.
“Me too,” Shane agrees, and, before he can help it, adds, “That would be a disaster for Saturday's game.” Ilya grunts, unable to disagree because Shane is correct, of course.
Shane suddenly remembers he came here to tell Ilya something as well, so suddenly that he startles himself. He grabs Ilya’s forearm and looks around them briefly to make sure nobody else is listening. Ilya looks at him with wide eyes. “What?!”
“Okay, I also need to tell you something,” Shane starts, “I was in the gym earlier, and while on the stairmaster, I could kind of see Luca’s phone screen?”
Ilya narrows his eyes, but can’t fight a little grin.
“I wasn’t doing it intentionally,” Shane quickly defends himself, “But-” he looks around again, “he was looking at some guy’s instagram.”
Ilya blinks at him before deadpanning, “Wow.”
“No, I mean… looking at it. And I think he wanted to dm him, and they already texted before. With, like… hearts and stuff.” Ilya’s expression turned from deadpan to interested. “But he didn’t, and he like… tossed his phone away. So.” Shane realized he didn’t even know where this was going. He wasn’t used to perceiving stuff like that, OR to have Ilya close to share it with. “...just wanted to tell you.”
Ilya takes a deep breath. Shane’s hand is still on his forearm. Ilya lifts his arm to kiss the back of Shane’s hand. “Lovesick?” The sparkle in his blue eyes does something to Shane.
“It’s really none of our business unless it affects their game,” Shane says, knowing they both know he’s full of shit.
“Yes, but it could. Affect their game, I mean.” Ilya pulls a face.
Shane stays quiet, and thinks, maybe they have way more capacity to care about their teammates’ relationship drama now that they’re not caught up in their own anymore. Or, maybe, they both just really, really want to see other queer people happy after everything they went through.
“I talk to Barrett, you talk to Luca?” Ilya suggests.
Shane flinches. “I’m bad at that, you know that.”
“Bottom to bottom conversation.”
“Ilya!” Shane hisses, looking around once again; lucky for Ilya, nobody is there. Ilya is laughing quietly against Shane’s hand.
“You know what it’s like to yearn for a hot man.” Ilya wiggles his brows.
“I hate you.” It comes out soft and sappy.
-
They are sitting in the media room, and Coach is talking their defense line through some possible strategies.
Shane listens, of course. He’s always paying attention when it comes to game strategy. It’s just professional.
But.
Their next game is against Chicago, who are having an unprecedentedly bad season this year, and Shane doesn’t feel too guilty when his attention briefly strays.
Luca sits in the same row as Ilya and him, and he has a notepad in front of him. Shane appreciates the dedication; it’s just one of the reasons why he’s sure Luca will have a great future in the MLH. Normally he takes very meticulous notes, and they have definitely referenced those before, which is a point of pride for Luca.
Today, the notepad is half-empty, and Luca has his head propped up on his hand, elbow on the table, as he mindlessly doodles along the edge of the paper: a cloud, with raindrops going all the way down, some of them turning into hearts. Shane is not an art critic, but he doesn’t think that’s a good sign.
-
Later, while Shane is waiting for a call from a Sponsor liaison, he does something he’s not proud of: he goes through Luca’s instagram, looking for the mystery boy.
It doesn’t take long to find him, because he commented under one of Luca’s posts. Shane opens his profile. It’s lots of videos and pictures similar to what he saw at the gym: costumes, crafting, and a heaping ton of thirst traps. Shane finds out that his name is Mathis, and that he is apparently a very successful cosplayer.
He screenshots the profile, and sends the screenshot to Ilya.
found Luca’s boy
Ilya is online, and immediately replies. he is cute. pretty.
he looks sixteen to me, Shane texts back.
Ilya: so does haas.
Ilya: you were seventeen when we met :)
Shane: don’t remind me
Ilya: so cute :)
Shane: I have a call now, ttyl love you!!
Ilya: I love you
During the call, Shane notices his phone lighting up a few times with messages from Ilya. The second they hang up, he unlocks it, reading through them.
Ilya: wow, so much shirtless dancing
Ilya: luca liked one of his posts from three years ago… down bad
Ilya: uh oh [link attached]
Shane clicks on it. It opens to an instagram post on Mathis’ page, posted last week. It’s a photo of him in a Peter Pan costume (although Shane is pretty sure the real Peter Pan has sleeves and a top that covers his entire midriff). Bridal-style in his arms, there is another young man who is dressed in the sluttiest Tinkerbell costume Shane has ever seen. He swipes to the next picture in the post; it is the same shot, but they’re kissing in this one.
Poor Luca.
-
“Barrett.”
Ilya catches Troy right before he can climb into his car. This just adds to the suspicious behavior, because Harris and him normally drive here together when they can.
“What?” Troy looks tired, and not exactly happy to be cornered by Ilya.
Ilya looks at him for a very long moment, then asks, “What did you do?” The fact that Troy flushes red immediately tells him he’s hit the spot.
Troy looks at the roof of his car, at Ilya, then at the ground. “I’m a crappy boyfriend, I think. Just generally.”
“No you’re not,” Ilya says with conviction. In the back of his mind, he can hear Dr. Molchalina’s voice: Does negative self-talk serve you in this situation?
“You don’t know that.” Troy gives him an incredulous squint.
“I know you are the kind of boyfriend who brings Harris coffee every day, and sits in his office at lunch just to talk to him and look at him daily.”
The hard line of Troy’s shoulders deflates and he lets out a huff. “What if that’s not enough?”
Ilya is suddenly overcome with a deep feeling of understanding. “What did you do?” he repeats.
“I feel stupid as fuck for it,” Troy warns, rubbing his face, pinching the bridge of his nose. Ilya waits for him to keep talking. “I’m in my twenties and I feel like I’m still learning how to be in a relationship. Like an idiot.”
Ilya keeps waiting patiently. It’s obvious Troy wants to talk about this to someone.
“I’m still not used to having someone who depends on me?” Ilya scoffs; he can relate somewhat. Troy looks miserable. “Harris is amazing, he does all that stuff for me all the time… like, he puts my coffee mug out the night before, he sorts out my clean laundry for me, stuff like that. And then, two days ago, he asked me to order a gift for his mom’s birthday, because he’s so stressed with work and stuff. And I really meant to do it but I just totally forgot.” Troy rolls his eyes at himself. “And her birthday was yesterday, so we got into a fight about it right before we had to drive to his family’s house, and we were late because then we had to buy a different gift on the drive there, and I could tell Harris was just so disappointed…” Troy’s face distorts with the shame and guilt of it. “And I just felt so shitty about it that I kind of shut down, and we got into a huge fight about it in the car on our way back home, and I brought up my ex which was double-stupid, and just made it all worse. I mean, he cried-worse. And then I slept like shit, and here we are.”
“You brought up your ex?” Ilya asks incredulously, and Troy groans, hiding his face against the roof of his car. “Why would you do this?”
“I don’t know, it made sense in the moment.”
“Never bring up the ex,” Ilya tells him sagely. “Did you apologize?”
“Yes.” There is hesitation in Troy’s voice.
“But?”
“But I think I got kind of defensive about it. Which wasn’t necessary, in hindsight.” Troy lightly bumps his own forehead against his hands, which lay folded on the roof of his car. “I think I’m just really bad at dealing with people I love feeling disappointed in me.”
Ilya knows the feeling. “Is good you recognize it. Are you seeing a therapist now?” They talked about it, a while ago. Or more like, Ilya gently bullied Troy into finding one after he nearly had a panic attack when his father showed up to a game uninvited.
“First appointment is next week,” Troy groans into his hands. “I need it so I can stop being a bad boyfriend.”
“Good.” Ilya reaches across the roof of the car and briefly squeezes the back of Troy’s neck reassuringly. “Is normal to fuck up in your relationship. Sometimes things just go wrong, or you’re in a shitty mood, and shit happens. You gotta learn how to break the cycle. And if you fucked up, you go and apologize. You will, yes?”
“Yes,” Troy mumbles.
“And mean it!” Ilya adds. “Just words mean nothing. You gotta mean it. And don’t say, oh, I have been such a bad boyfriend, I don’t deserve you, blah blah, because this means nothing. Say, I am sorry, I love you, and then remember this next time you are in same situation.”
Troy huffs into his hands, then looks up. He really does look like shit up close. “He’s still mad at me, though…”
Ilya tsks at him. “Harris? Harris has never been mad at anyone for longer than two seconds. He physically cannot. He’s miserable, like you, and probably misses you. So you go now, buy flowers and chocolate or whatever he likes, and you give it to him and apologize. Get expensive flowers.” He lightly punches Troy in the arm. “I know you are good at apologizing because it’s all you did when you first came here.”
That gets a lopsided smile out of Troy. “...thanks, Roz.”
“Go. Now.”
“Yes, Captain.” Troy salutes, and finally climbs into his car. Ilya watches him drive away, and shakes his head, unable to suppress a little grin.
-
“I haven’t done it yet,” Shane confesses that night on the sofa.
“Done what?” Ilya looks up from his phone where he’s online shopping for a new harness for Anya, who is peacefully sleeping between them.
“Talked to Luca.” Shane is chewing on his lip. “It just felt… awkward. I don’t want him to feel like I, I dunno, spied on him.”
“You don’t have to tell him you looked at his phone screen for an hour at the gym, and then proceeded to stalk his crush on social media.”
“It wasn’t an hour!” Shane lifts his hands defensively. “And I wasn’t stalking him.”
“He was quiet today, I think. Maybe he is, what is the word… lovesick.” Ilya taps something on his phone, then smiles. “Aw, look.”
He turns his phone around, showing Shane a photo Harris sent him. It’s a huge bouquet of flowers, and a basket of gifts, including a teddy bear, chocolate-covered fruit and a Starbucks gift card. It’s incredibly cheesy and probably exactly what Harris likes. The message that came with it reads, I hear you are partially responsible for this. Thank you 💚I’m glad Troy has you to talk to.
“That’s cute.”
Ilya pulls back his phone with a self-satisfied little grin. “Yes, very cute.” Still smiling, he adds, “I would have killed him if he’d fucked up with Harris for real. They are perfect.”
Shane hums. The idea of more lovesick people around him is not very appealing. “So, what do we do about Luca?”
“Tomorrow is barbeque night at Bood’s, right? Maybe we can get something out of him there.”
Shane is worrying at his bottom lip with his teeth. “Do you think it’s weird? It’s none of our business.”
Ilya raises his shoulders, holding out his hands. “Imagine if someone had told you and me to stop acting like fools.”
Shane scoffs. “You would have told them to fuck off.”
“Eh, maybe. But sometimes you need other people to check you. Especially if you are being young and gay and stupid.” Ilya turns his phone around towards Anya. “Do you like this one, little girl? Pink is your color.”
-
They do talk to Luca at the barbeque the next night.
Actually, they corner him in the kitchen, when he is trying to sneak his fourth beer.
“Put this back and get a ginger ale,” Ilya tells him, and Luca startles so badly he flinches. Then, he immediately exchanges the beer for a bottle of sprite from the drink fridge.
He looks from Ilya to Shane and back, his face slowly blushing. “Sorry.”
“Trying to drown your sorrows is not good for you,” Ilya tells him. Shane keeps quiet because Ilya is way better at this than he is.
Luca blushes even harder, his entire face going red. His eyes dart around nervously. Shane reaches behind himself and closes the kitchen door, and the second it clicks shut, Luca’s posture deflates.
“How did you know?”
“We are gay-psychic,” Ilya deadpans, and Shane is very grateful that he doesn’t give him away. “Also, you have been looking like a drowned bunny all week.”
“Drowned rat,” Shane corrects him.
“It’s poodle in German,” Luca supplies.
“Bunny, mouse, poodle, who the fuck cares.” Ilya gestures to him, “Miserable. Now talk about your pretty boy with the brown hair.”
Luca’s eyes widen. “How did you know?!”
“Like I said, gay-psychic.”
Shane has to suppress a laugh.
Luca shifts on his feet, pushes his glasses up his nose. “We met at a party a few months ago, and started like… talking and… flirting.” He looks so sheepish when he says it. “We talked until five in the morning about all sorts of stuff, and then he asked me to come home with him.” Luca’s blush spreads to his ears. Shane is sure Ilya and him are both wearing matching expressions right now. “But I don’t do that after only just meeting someone, so. And he said it’s okay, we can stay in contact, and so we did, texting all of the time… he kept trying to get me to visit him in Vancouver but it didn’t work out because of our schedule.” It’s all spilling out of Luca now. “It was so fun talking to him, like, we have the same interests, he’s really funny and talented.” There’s a sad little smile on his face now, the kind Shane recognizes. It tugs on his heartstrings, knowing what comes next.
“You developed a crush on him?” Ilya asks, and his voice is much gentler now.
Luca sniffs, looks away, and nods. “We agreed that I would visit him when we played in Vancouver.” Shane involuntarily let out a little sigh. They had played Vancouver just last week. “And we talked on the phone, and it was all so… nice. So, after the game, I went to his house, and…” Luca trails off. He’s picking at the label of his beer bottle.
“Was it your first time?” Shane surprises himself by asking this. It comes out soft and empathetic.
Luca flinches. “No.” He flinches again, then adds in a small voice, “Not… my first time with a guy. But first time…” He doesn’t have to finish the sentence for them to understand. Shane’s heart breaks a little at the expression on his face.
Next to him, Ilya looks murderous.
“The whole time we were talking, he never mentioned a boyfriend. Never. I wouldn’t have gone to his house if he did!” Luca gestures. “But after we… y’know, we showered together and I was like, wow, you have so many different skincare products. And he just says,” Luca waggles his hands, imitating a deeper voice, “‘most of those belong to my boyfriend’. Just like that.” He’s clearly getting angry now, which Shane thinks is good, maybe. Angry is better than sad, sometimes. “While we’re still in the shower together.”
“Wow, fuck him!” Shane says emphatically. Ilya says nothing, just keeps looking more and more homicidal.
“So, yeah. That’s how I found out he has a boyfriend.” Luca’s anger dissolves, and he looks sad again.
“That’s an awful thing to do to someone,” Shane tells him. He remembers how he felt that night in Vegas, after the awards, we didn’t even kiss already typed out in their messages. Used and discarded, like a tissue. And he’s sure Luca feels ten times worse right now.
“I feel so stupid, because normally I don’t just sleep with people. But he was so kind and funny, and I really liked him.” Luca hangs his head, rubs his nose. “And I thought he liked me, too. But he just wanted to fuck me.” His tone breaks Shane’s heart. Next to him, Ilya twitches.
“Where does he live?”
“Huh?”
“Ilya.”
“I am serious.” Ilya’s voice is sharp, but Shane can tell he is about to make a joke to cheer Luca up. Or at least he hopes that’s the plan. “I will send Russian mafia to his house.”
Luca looks up, wide-eyed as if he’s not sure if Ilya means it.
“Stop it.” Shane reaches over and puts a hand on Ilya’s arm, trying not to laugh.
“I am serious, I will do it.” Ilya’s face is still stern.
“Stop scaring him.”
Luca’s eyes dart back and forth between them.
“He’s joking, Luca,” Shane tells him, and he visibly relaxes. “I’m really sorry that happened to you. It’s fucked up, what he did.”
“But it’s not your fault, yes?” Ilya quickly adds. He reaches out, and squeezes Luca’s shoulder. Luca’s blush returns.
“I just feel stupid,” Luca admits quietly.
“You’re not stupid!” both of them exclaim at the same time. “He did it intentionally,” Shane says.
“Yes. He wasn’t honest with you. You just trusted him. Is not your fault, he is the asshole.” Ilya squeezes Luca’s shoulder again. “Guys like that lie to everybody, and mostly to themselves.”
Luca sighs deeply, but his face looks a little less pained now.
“I bet you’re not the only guys he’s done this to.” Shane crosses his arms in front of his chest.
“You can do way better,” Ilya says, very seriously.
Luca sighs. “I usually don’t develop crushes quickly. I can’t really… it’s not really my thing. The way it is for some people.”
“Yes, you’ve told me this,” Ilya says.
“So I can’t just go to a bar and meet people, or do it on the apps.” Shane can tell Luca has explained this to other people before, has had to defend the way his heart works. “I need an emotional connection first.”
Ilya shrugs. “Is no problem. We will find you someone to emotionally connect with.” He says it like they have a secret stash of gay friends waiting to date an early-twenties blond boy somewhere.
“You don’t have to-”
Shane just shakes his head behind Ilya’s back, mouthing it’s useless, and it makes Luca laugh. It’s nice to finally see the sadness vanish from his expression.
Ilya says nothing for a second, then suddenly asks, “Do you think his boyfriend knows?”
-
Ilya: haha [image attached: screenshot of an instagram reel from Mathis’ page, titled ‘my boyfriend broke up with me after four years’. He is wearing a dirty hoodie with the hood up in the shot, and is crying.]
Shane: …was that your doing?
Ilya: I would never do such a thing 😇
Ilya: but
Ilya: cheaters who hurt others get exposed sooner or later
Shane: of course ;)