Chapter Text
The Centaurs were back in Montreal for a quick away game trip after having played five games in a row at home in Ottawa. They'd lost the game 4-3, but everyone had seemed proud of the intense effort they gave on the ice. They had played well, but just weren't able to get enough pucks in the net against the Voyageurs.
Centaurs captain Ilya Rozanov walked out of the showers and over to his locker room stall with a towel wrapped around his waist. He snuck quick glances over toward LaPointe and Luca Haas, two of the team’s youngest players, as he got dressed and packed up his gear.
The room was slowly clearing out as guys made their way to the bus to go back to the hotel, but when Ilya saw that LaPointe was ready to head out, he turned and got his attention.
“LaPointe and Haas. Sit down.”
Luca put on his jacket and then sat on the bench in front of his stall. LaPointe sighed but joined him.
“I’m fine,” Haas said.
“Oh, you think this is about you?” Ilya asked.
Luca shyly looked down at the floor.
Ilya smirked. “Ugh, fine. Yes, this is about you.”
Luca had been taken off the ice in the middle of the second period after he’d been checked into boards. It wasn’t the worst hit Haas had ever experienced, but he was in an unlucky position, and his head had collided with the ledge where the board meets the plexiglass.
He had wanted to keep playing, but Coach Wiebe had pulled him for a concussion evaluation.
“I did everything they wanted me to do,” Luca said. “I did the vision tests, and I took the pain medication, and I drank the electrolytes, and I ate the nutrition bars.”
“Yes, I know,” Ilya said. “I already talked with Wiebe and Terry. A+ score for you. But you are not magically all fixed. It will be a long night, especially when the adrenaline from the game wears off.”
Luca was told he could go back to the hotel with the team, but that he had to be monitored by his roommate and woken every 2-3 hours.
“We can handle it,” LaPointe said.
Ilya crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows.
“Yes? Walk me through what you’re going to do when you get back to your room.”
Luca looked nervously at LaPointe. This felt like a pop quiz.
LaPointe was Luca’s roommate at the hotel, and he did his best to remember what Terry, the Centaurs team doctor, had told them to do.
“Umm he needs rest, and we need to keep the lights low,” LaPointe said. “And I need to check him every 2 hours.”
Luca stayed quiet.
“And?” Ilya said, not satisfied with LaPointe’s answer.
Luca elbowed his teammate in the side.
“And no phones,” LaPointe said.
“Ok.” Ilya walked a few steps closer to them. “And what movie are you going to watch?”
LaPointe thought hard about what kind of response Ilya wanted to hear. “Probably… something funny?”
Bood laughed from across the locker room. “Wrong answer, kid,” he said, zipping up his jacket.
“Ah, was trick question,” Ilya said. “Haasy cannot watch a movie. Doctor said no screens with a concussion.”
LaPointe tried to save the argument. “But he can listen to a movie.”
“It’s barely even a concussion.” Luca regretted saying it as soon as the words left his mouth. Ilya was glaring at him.
Ilya waved his hands in front of his face. “Ok, I don’t like this. It is decided.”
“What’s decided?” Luca asked.
“You,” Ilya said, nodding to Luca. “You come with me tonight. LaPointe played great game, but he does not know how to take care of your concussion.”
“No,” Luca said. “We can do it.”
“Not no. Yes,” Ilya said. “I have a place that is nicer than the hotel room. Will be better for you there.”
“I'm just going to take more medicine and go to sleep."
Ilya ignored Luca’s comment and put out his hand, palm facing up. He gestured toward the packed gear bag at the rookie’s feet.
“Give,” Ilya said plainly.
Luca knew he wouldn’t be able to change Ilya’s mind, and he didn’t want to cause a scene in the locker room.
And not that he wanted to admit it, but his headache was getting worse, and raising his voice or fighting back just seemed impossible at the moment without making his head more tense.
“I can carry it myself,” he said quietly, but he passed it to his captain anyway.
“Come.” Ilya threw his own bag over his other shoulder and walked out of the locker room, Haas following a few steps behind him.
Luca grumbled under his breath. “Why do I always have to get hurt at away games?”
He didn’t think what he had said was audible, but Ilya stopped walking and turned to face him. “You’ll be home in your own bed tomorrow. But tonight, the hotel is not the safest place. Please trust me.”
Luca didn't have an argument for that. He followed behind Ilya all the way to the valet that players and team staff used in the parking garage, where an orange Porsche was already waiting for them.
They got in the car and Ilya only drove down one level before pulling over to the side and turning off the engine.
“I need to make a call. Stay here.”
To Luca’s surprise, Ilya got out of the car and walked a few parking spaces over. He looked back to check that Luca was still where Ilya had left him, and then tapped on the phone and placed it up to his ear.
Luca couldn’t hear anything Ilya was saying, but the conversation was quick, and Ilya was back behind the wheel soon enough.
He reached across Luca’s lap and grabbed the lever on the far side of the passenger’s seat. Ilya pulled up on the handle and the seat reclined with a pop, making Luca jump.
“Lay back,” Ilya said. “And close your eyes.”
Luca dropped back and tried to play off the hint of dizziness that came from moving his head too quickly.
Ilya gave him a once-over. “Where is your phone?”
Luca took his cell phone out of his pocket, and Ilya promptly snatched it from him.
“No screens. You can have it back tomorrow.” Ilya put the phone in his jacket pocket and then squinted at him. “Maybe.”
Ilya started the car and drove out of the arena parking lot, headed for downtown Montreal.
It was rare for him to not have music playing as he drove, but the quiet was important for his rookie, and he was consumed by nerves as he worked through a plan for how to tell Haas that they were actually headed to Shane Hollander’s penthouse.
Luca broke the silence first.
“Do you always bring your car to Montreal?”
“Mmm, yes. Not always this one. But driving is nicer than the bus I think. And it’s only 2 hours.”
After a few more minutes of driving in silence, Luca opened his eyes and looked up at the street signs.
“Where are we going?” Luca asked. “You keep an apartment in the city?”
Ilya hummed and ignored the question. “How is your pain?”
“I’m not in pain.”
“Try again.”
Luca closed his eyes. “It’s… manageable.”
Ilya nodded. “Ok. We try to fix it soon.”
“We?”
Ilya exhaled. He tapped his fingers nervously on the steering wheel. “I need to tell you something important, but I am nervous it will make your little concussed brain explode.”
“What is it?”
Ilya kept his eyes laser-focused in front of him. He rehearsed the sentence in his head and then said it aloud. “Luca, I am bisexual, and I have a boyfriend who lives in Montreal.”
It was the last thing Luca had expected to come out of Ilya’s mouth. “Oh.”
He quickly shot through the rest of what he needed to say. “And that boyfriend is Shane Hollander, and we are going to stay over at his apartment tonight.”
Ilya didn’t realize that he was holding his own breath while he waited for a reply.
“Ilya?” There was some worry in the rookie’s voice. “We need to go to the hospital.”
Fear shot across Ilya’s face. “Haas, what happened? Your concussion is feeling worse?”
“Something’s wrong. I’m having hallucinations that you said Shane Hollander is your boyfriend and that we’re all having a sleepover.”
Ilya pressed his lips together and stayed quiet.
“Wait,” Luca said. “Was that real?”
“It’s very real, Haas.”
“That’s…” Luca looked up at Ilya. “That’s amazing.”
Ilya grinned. “He is amazing, yes." The nerves Ilya had felt in his stomach were quickly evaporating. This was going to be fun. "Remember when you got stitches?" Ilya asked him. "Shane comes running to help me… to help us.”
Luca’s mind was spinning. “I thought he was smiling so much because he was being nice, but he actually just thinks you’re hot?!”
Ilya laughed. “Mmm. In love with me, yes. And remember what I said after?”
It took a few seconds, but once the pieces locked into place, Luca gasped and propped himself up on the seat with his elbow.
“Your date that night was with Hollander? My stupid fear cockblocked your date night with HOLLANDER?!”
“Anxiety is not stupid,” Ilya said quickly. “And we still had plenty of time for fucking, do not worry.”
“Oh mein Gott!"
Ilya was beaming. “Shane will think that was very funny. Now lay down. Try to calm down your head before the smoke comes out of your ears.”
He glanced over at his rookie and then spoke more genuinely. “Is this too uncomfortable for you, or is it ok? We can go back to the hotel if this is not ok.”
Luca slowly settled back into the reclined seat again and shut his eyes. “It’s more than ok.”
Ilya cackled. “Ha! Ok. But you cannot tell anyone, yes? Not yet. And I have confiscated your phone so you are not tempted to say where you are in the Cens group chat when they check in on you.”
Luca kept processing. It was like every fact he had ever catalogued about Ilya Rozanov over the last 10 years was now being reevaluated in his head.
“So when you both check each other on the ice…?”
“Is like, how do you say? Is like foreplay.”
“Oh my God.” Luca covered his hands over his face. “Even in Boston?”
“Even then.”
Luca was louder this time. “Oh my God!”
Ilya was still smiling from ear to ear for the final ten minutes of the drive, but he had also felt Luca becoming more withdrawn as the minutes passed.
“We are here.” He turned into a private driveway that led into a parking garage under a luxury building.
“Wait. No.” Luca pulled his hands off of his face and felt a wave of anxiety take him over. “I can’t… Shane’s gonna be so mad. I’m ruining your whole night.”
Ilya parked in his usual guest spot and shut off the car. He turned to face Luca and sighed.
“No. Haasy, no. Shane wants you here. That’s who I called on the phone in the garage. And if I didn’t want you here, I would not bring you. I am sorry for putting a big secret on you, but we…” Ilya didn’t know how to phrase it. “We are happy together knowing that you are ok.”
Luca didn’t fully understand what Ilya meant, but he nodded, trying not to tense as his head felt like it was being squeezed.
“I would be more scared all night thinking of you dying in pain in a sad hotel room while LaPointe plays video games.”
“I’m not going to die from a headache.”
“No, of course not.” Ilya smirked. “Because I am here.” Ilya patted Luca twice on the knee.
"And Shane knows that I know?"
Ilya nodded. He studied Luca's face, and then reached into the middle console. The kid was really starting to look more fatigued now.
"You should put these on." He placed a pair of sunglasses in Luca's hand.
"They will help with the bright lights in the garage. I can tell it is hurting you."
Luca put them on and was silently appreciative of the kindness.
"Umm, when can I have more pain medicine?"
Ilya checked his phone. "An hour. Is that too far away?"
Luca spoke softly. "It's ok."
Standing and walking was a lot more work than Luca had expected it to be after having been in the car for twenty minutes.
When they got to the lobby, Ilya typed in the code for the elevator and set both bags down by his feet. He pulled Luca in for a hug, and let the kid bury his forehead into Ilya's chest. It helped to shield his face from the light and he thought the pressure would provide a little relief.
"I don't tell you this to scare you," Ilya said slowly, "but I think is important to say. Sometimes people with anxiety can have a harder time with concussions. It can be a more challenging recovery for them."
There was a ding from the elevator and Ilya shuffled them inside. Luca fell into him once more, and Ilya rubbed circles over his back.
"But it doesn't have to be?" Luca asked.
"No. Of course not. I am explaining why you being here is a good thing. Because Shane and me, we have been there, and we understand."
"Anxiety or concussions?" Luca asked, head still buried into Ilya.
"Mmm. Probably both," Ilya said. "We don't want you to suffer how maybe we have suffered years ago when no veteran players were there for us when we were hurting." He felt Luca nod into his chest.
The elevator door opened, and there was Shane standing in the entryway ready to receive them.
Shane softly greeted Luca and led them through the front door and over to the living room, which Shane had purposely left to be dark and quiet.
In any other situation, Luca would have dove into questions for Shane about everything Ilya had told him in the car, but instead, he just let the pair of captains help him out of his shoes and guide him over to a soft, oversized couch.
Shane had already propped up several pillows, and once they got Luca lying back and as relaxed as possible, Ilya knelt down to check in with him.
"Feeling safe here?" Ilya asked.
Luca nodded. He handed the sunglasses back to Ilya, but kept his eyes closed.
"Good. Were you feeling dizzy?"
Luca shrugged his shoulders. "Maybe a little."
"Ok, thank you for telling me."
Ilya placed his palm on Luca's forehead. "Do you feel sick at all?"
Luca shook his head back and forth.
"Ok, good," Ilya said. "Please don't be afraid to tell me if something gets worse."
He covered Luca with a blanket that Shane had handed him and then softly ran his fingers through the rookie's hair.
"Rest now, and I'll come check on you in a few minutes and bring some water."
"Ok."
"And just put your hand up or say something if you need us, alright?" Shane added. "At least one of us will always be close."
Luca nodded. He opened his eyes as he heard Ilya stand up and take a step away.
"Ilya? Shane?"
They both looked at him, and Luca knew they could see his eyes were watery. "I just..." Luca took a breath. "Just thank you."
Ilya squeezed Shane's hand. "You are all good here," he said to Luca. "I know it hurts, but try to rest."
Luca closed his eyes again and made an effort to try and relax the muscles in his head, now feeling especially grateful that he was not back at the hotel.
He could hear quiet, careful noises as Shane and Ilya moved around the kitchen behind him, and he felt a small smile creep across his face when he thought he heard the sound of a simple kiss.
Luca realized that, despite the headache, this was one of the small handful of moments he'd experienced so far where Canada felt like home.