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David pours Ilya another glass of vodka.
“Roz- Ilya, I…” David starts. His pronunciation of Ilya’s name is still shaky, the syllables a bit off. “I know you'd be loyal to Shane, and not Boston, but… I mean, Boston’s built their whole brand around you, so I can’t help but wonder how serious you are about it.”
Ilya takes a sip. “I am very serious about your son, Mister Hollander.”
David laughs. “Just David is fine, Ilya. We’re on a first-name basis now.”
Ilya smiles softly. David’s used to a completely different version of Ilya, a promiscuous playboy who’s fierce on the ice and is the furthest thing from soft. Certainly not a boy with wind-mussed hair and gentle eyes whose heart is set on his son.
“Well, it’s good to hear that you mean it, with Shane,” David says. “It’s not that I doubt you or anything, but that’ll be a big change.”
“Ottawa will finally be a good team,” Ilya jokes emotionlessly. “I’m helping your hometown.”
And that gets a good chuckle out of David. This kid’s funny. “Now you’re right about that.”
The two are silent for a moment. It’s a strange mix of awkward and comfortable.
“Ilya, if you don’t mind me asking,” David starts, “how did you and Shane meet? I mean, I know you two met as rookies, but I’m just curious how your whole…” David waves a hand around vaguely. “Relationship thing started.”
Ilya smirks from the rim of his glass. “David, I think it might be inappropriate if I tell you that.”
“Ah,” David says, flushing. He knows their relationship started as lovers, but that’s the last thing he wants to imagine regarding his son. “Right.”
“But… before we started… that,” Ilya says awkwardly, searching for the words. “I was very… charmed, by your son. Sweet, boring Canadian boy. He introduced himself to me in Saskatchewan, while I was outside smoking in the cold. I thought he was pretty.”
David chuckles. “He always had the attention of the girls at school, that’s for sure,” David reminisces fondly. “I’m… I’m glad he found you, though, Ilya. Really. I know he’s had girlfriends before, but… he really seems at home, with you.”
Ilya nods gently. “Is nice to hear you say that. Shane was very scared of telling you, for a long time.” Ilya takes another sip of vodka. “He still is. He wasn’t ready.”
David feels another wave of guilt wash over him. His heart had sunk to the floor when he saw Shane, pressed against the glass by someone. By a man. By Ilya Rozanov.
He hoped Shane would forgive him one day, for invading his privacy like that.
“I can imagine how scary it would be for him,” David acknowledges. “Being gay is scary enough, in the hockey world. Even worse when it’s with your rival player,” he laughs humorlessly.
“Yes,” Ilya says, eyes averted as he looks off to the side solemnly. “He had to lie for a very long time. Spent so many years hiding.” There’s hurt in Ilya’s voice.
David’s heart aches. He’s always been supportive of Shane, and he and Yuna had an inkling something might be up, but he’s suddenly wishing he’d shown that support much more. He’s never indicated that he’d be against anything queer, but he hadn’t ever made a big show of supporting it either, and certainly never considered Shane would end up with a man.
He wishes very badly to apologize to Shane. He’ll have his turn after Yuna’s done, doing the exact same thing, he imagines.
David clears his throat. “I’m… I’m sorry if this question is too personal for you, Ilya, but… I can’t imagine your family back in Russia is very supportive?”
Ilya shakes his head. “My mother is dead, from when I was young. My father is also dead, and would not have supported. My brother knows about me, and he doesn’t tell anyone, but he doesn’t like it either.”
David lets out a long breath. “I’m so sorry, Ilya. That must be so hard.”
Ilya shrugs. “Is how it is in Russia. I am used to it, but is not all bad. I have old friend, Svetlana. She is Vetrov’s daughter. She knows what I am, and I think she could tell I had something with Shane, over the years.”
“She sounds nice,” David says. “And, just so you know, Ilya, our family is here for you, now. I know it probably sounds cheesy, having really just met you for the first time like this, but with how much you love Shane, we want to be here for you too.”
Ilya’s mouth quirks a smile. “Thank you. It means more than you think.” Ilya takes a breath. “I love your son very much. I will be good to him.”
Suddenly, David regrets his comment about there being other nice men in Montreal. Ilya’s gazing out the window, like a dog waiting for its owner to get back. David can tell Ilya’s smitten for his son, and any hesitation he has about Ilya immediately dissipates.
“I know you will,” David says, smiling warmly. “I’m sure he’s been good to you too.”
“Oh, yes,” Ilya says with no hesitation. “He has made me very happy. I know it is not ideal, falling in love with your rival. I tried very hard not to love him,” Ilya admits. “I think I may have hurt him, trying to do that. But I am not doing that anymore. I cannot help it. I hope he forgives me.”
And even with English not being Ilya’s first language, David is taken aback by the way Ilya is describing how he loves his son. It sets in for him then, that them falling in love was far from easy. He recognizes now that they must have tried very hard to be anything but together.
“I think he’ll forgive you.”
“Hm?”
“Shane, if you’ve hurt him. I think he’ll forgive you.”
Ilya nods gently, taking another sip of vodka. “I hope so.”
~~~~~
Shane and Yuna return, eyes red and puffy, but both look like weights have been lifted off their chests. David knows not to pry about anything in the moment, but he has a feeling he knows what they talked about anyways.
“What did you boys get up to?” Yuna asks teasingly. She takes one last swipe at a tear in her eye.
“I said I will bring glory back to your hometown when I play for Ottawa,” Ilya says. It’s not a lie.
David chuckles. He knows Ilya’s avoiding telling Shane what he actually shared, but a part of him wants to urge Ilya to be honest. He knows Shane would want to hear it.
“And Ilya said a lot of nice things about you, Shane.”
Shane looks genuinely surprised at that, looking at Ilya curiously. A small smile has formed on Shane’s lips already. “You did?”
“Shocking, I know,” Ilya jokes. “I say nice things about my boyfriend.”
The word boyfriend is still new to everyone, and Shane can’t hide the slight disbelief in his face when he hears it. “What did you say about me?”
Ilya smirks. “Ah, so nosy. I said your backhand has been getting better.”
“Oh, fuck you,” Shane huffs. But he’s got a painfully fond look on his face.
Ilya is so good to him, David thinks.
“Wow, dirty mouth in front of your lovely parents, Shane?” Ilya playfully waves a hand to where David and Yuna sat at the table, amused expressions on both of their faces.
“The locker room vocabulary started a long time ago,” Yuna laughs. “It’s nothing we haven’t heard already.”
David watches Ilya’s hand shift under the table, reaching out towards Shane. Shane breaks out into a soft expression at the touch, whatever it may be, likely a thigh squeeze or hand hold or something of the like.
Shane looks happy. Not that he hasn’t before, but this time it’s freer. Like he’s knocked down walls he’s had up for years, like he’s relaxed muscles he’s been aching to rest.
David’s feeling all sorts of things. Guilt for having forced Shane out of the closet earlier than he was ready to, but also relief, for being able to see Shane truly happy without having to hide. He’s the most at ease for the first time in years.
And selfishly, David’s glad things went the way they did.
~~~~~
Shane clears his throat on the car ride back to the cottage. “So… what did you actually talk about with my dad?”
“I already told you. Glory to Ottawa and your improved backhand.”
“No, really,” Shane laughs. “I’m curious.”
Ilya breathes out. “I told him how much I loved you. How I tried not to. How pretty I thought you were, back in that day in Saskatchewan. I promised him I would be good to you.”
Shane riskily takes his eyes off the road to look at Ilya. “Really?”
Ilya nods. “I don’t think he thought I would treat you badly, or that I didn’t really love you, but I wanted to make sure.” Ilya runs his fingers over where Shane’s hand lay on the gear stick. “Needed him to know that there were no other nice men in Montreal.”
A chuckle rises out of Shane. “He didn’t mean any harm when he said that. I think he was just still a little confused with everything.”
“I know,” Ilya assures. “I can’t blame him. I just needed him to know. Have no doubt that I am serious about you.”
Shane’s smiling. It’s so bright and warm. Ilya wishes to pull him in and kiss him without risking an accident. He held himself back at the Hollanders’ house, resisting the urge every time he looked at Shane.
“Thank you,” Shane says. It’s all he really needs to say.
Ilya presses a kiss to Shane’s hand.
They’re happy.