Chapter Text
Troy could feel the tears on his cheek as he swiped through the carefully curated Instagram post for the 15th time. Memories welled up of his ex telling him that coming out would be bad for both of them. But here he was. Coming out. With a guy who he has apparently proposed to 6 months ago.
Troy remembered the exact excuse Adrian had used to get out of their date that night. Adrian had told him a big-shot producer was in town and that he might have an opportunity for something big. He never mentioned that the “something big” had to do with a ring.
Troy threw his phone on his couch as he stormed to the kitchen. He opened cupboard after cupboard, only to realize that he had thrown all his liquor out after he had come out to his captain.
His captain. Ilya fucking Rozanov.
Never in a million years would Troy have expected to think of the nightmare that was Ilya Rozanov as a confidant but at this moment…
Troy knew the man was bisexual, and his careful dismissal when Troy brought up Shane Hollander made him think that maybe Ilya knew more than he let on about secret relationships no one could ever know about. Or, at the very least, Roz would have vodka, Troy thought as he grabbed his wallet and keys.
On the drive over to his captain's house Troy thought about the fact that he had only been once. It was a long shot honestly, the Centaurs had a free weekend so it was more than likely Roz had gone to Montreal, but at this point, Troy really just needed to not be alone with his thoughts and Adrian De La Cruz's Instagram.
Troy rang the doorbell and waited. And waited. And waited.
After about five minutes of humiliating knocking and ringing, Troy was about to give up when he heard the disgruntled murmuring from behind the door.
"What the fuck do you want?" Ilyas voice hit him before the visual of his captain in just a pair of boxer briefs did. Rozanov stood tall in front of the now open door, face pinched in irritation. His hand was on the doorframe, making his biceps bulge slightly, and between that and the chiseled abs on display Troy had never felt gayer.
"Um, shit sorry, I just um. Sorry I'll leave" Troy stammered, stepping back, ready to flee.
Ilya grabbed him by the shoulder before he could turn and all but dragged him inside, closing and locking the door behind them.
“Is important?” Ilya asked suddenly, searching Troy’s face for any sign of distress.
Troy didn’t know how to respond. It had seemed important when he left his apartment twenty minutes ago, but Ilya had obviously been busy, and Troy didn’t want to interrupt whatever his captain had been doing at ten p.m. on a Friday night.
Ilya huffed when he realized he wasn’t getting an answer and gestured to the shoe stand by the door before walking further into the house. Troy toed off his sneakers and slid them into one of the cubbies before following.
Troy trailed him into the kitchen, watching as Ilya pulled out a rocks glass. “Vodka’s in the freezer. Wait here,” Ilya said, handing the glass to Troy before walking out and heading upstairs.
Troy set the glass down, bracing his hands on the island and lowering his head.
Breathe in, breathe out, he reminded himself as panic began to creep in.
What the fuck was he doing here? What the fuck was he doing freaking out over his ex—the ex who clearly didn’t give two shits about him, who waited until the worst possible moment to break up with him, who was probably with the guy he’d cheated with right now?
With that thought, Troy straightened and opened Ilya’s freezer, pulling out the fancy Russian vodka Ilya kept like a trophy and pouring it into the glass.
He took a deep sip, fighting not to gag as the straight vodka burned down his throat.
God. There was no way Ilya actually liked this shit… was there?
Troy let his gaze roam around the kitchen and froze when he registered the dishes in the sink.
Two plates. Two forks. Two glasses.
Fuck.
Fuck, he was so stupid. Of course Ilya had someone over.
His spiral worsened as he realized that the most likely guest was probably Shane Hollander himself.
Troy set the glass down and quickly moved to the foyer. He didn’t need to ruin Ilya’s night with his boyfriend just because he didn’t want to be alone. He was just about to slip on his shoes when he heard Ilya’s voice.
“Barrett, you’ve already ruined my plans, so you may as well stay and drink with me.”
Troy turned. Ilya had, thankfully, put on a hoodie and sweats.
“I shouldn’t have come. I know it’s your night off and you’re probably busy with—” Troy cut himself off, gesturing vaguely toward the second floor. He was sure Ilya knew he knew, but he wasn’t about to say it out loud.
“Ah, no, you are mistaken.” Ilya rolled his eyes, stepping in front of the door. “I wear cross for my mama. God does not like me very much. Definitely not enough to talk with me.”
“Roz, I’m serious. It was stupid of me to come and—”
his time Ilya cut himself off with a nudge to his shoulder and a bemused "sit Barrett, I bring drinks."
Troy stood at the doorway for another few seconds before taking Ilyas offer and heading to the loveseat in the living room. The room was surprisingly clean. Troy knew how disgusting Ilyas locker was and figured his house wouldve been the same, but it seemed like it was out of a home decor catalog.
Ilya handed him his glass before sitting down on the couch oppsite him with his own glass of vodka. "You want to talk or just drink?"
Troy lingered in the doorway for a few seconds before giving in and heading to the loveseat. The room was surprisingly clean. Troy knew how disgusting Ilya’s locker was and had expected the same here, but the place looked like something out of a home décor catalog.
Ilya handed him his glass before sitting on the couch opposite him with his own vodka. “You want to talk or just drink?”
Troy hesitated, then decided to address the elephant in the room. “I didn’t know he was here. I wouldn’t have come if I’d known. I just… didn’t want to be alone.” The last part came out quieter than intended, and Troy sank further into the couch.
“You need help, yes? Then I help.” Ilya shrugged, once again dodging the topic Troy really wanted to push.
“Roz, can you cut the bullshit for once?” Troy snapped, temper flaring. “You know I know, so why won’t you just say who’s upstairs right now?”
Ilya’s gaze burned into him, face perfectly impassive. After a beat, he said carefully, “I will not talk about him until he wants to be talked about.”
Troy could understand that. The desperation of a secret relationship. The suffocation of the closet.
Still, there was one thing he had to ask.
“How long?”
“I tell you I will not talk, and you ask me more questions?” Ilya blinked. Troy just shrugged, before he heard a “Officially summer 2017, but something since the summer before our rookie season.”
The voice was familiar enough to make Troy’s stomach drop.
Holy shit.
Troy stared as Shane Hollander stepped into view, somehow looking both tense and resigned. “I’ll go. I just wanted to…” His eyes flicked to Ilya, who hadn’t moved. Hollander gave a small nod. “Confirm.”
Troy’s gaze locked onto his, realization settling in. The Metros captain had just entrusted him with one of his biggest secrets. They had never even met, yet Troy now knew more than most of the man’s own team.
If Hollander could be vulnerable… maybe Troy could too.
“I was with my ex for two years before he broke up with me right before I moved to the Centaurs, and I just found out he’s engaged. He proposed to the other guy a few weeks before we broke up.” The words spilled out before Troy could stop them. “He was always the one with excuses about not coming out, and he’s a public figure top, so I didn’t question it. But he just… he broke up with me because I was apparently causing too much drama with Dallas. Said I wasn't loyal to my friends."
Troy let out a sharp, humorless laugh.
“He didn’t like that I wasn’t loyal to a fucking rapist, while he’d been cheating on me for months.”
Ilya choked softly, but Troy didn’t look away from Hollander. The other man’s face twisted in confusion.
“Sorry… what?”
Troy shrugged, finally breaking eye contact. “I figured if there’s anyone who could relate to a secret relationship, it’s you two.”
At that, Shane moved, crossing the room to sit beside Ilya.
“Who knew?” Ilya asked quietly.
“You’re the first people I’ve ever told.” Troy grimaced. It sounded worse out loud. “Who knows about you?”
“Shane’s parents, Pike and his family, my friend from home, our agent.” Ilya shrugged.
Hollander huffed a laugh. “And Ryan Price and his boyfriend.”
Troy almost flinched. He’d been horrible to Price back in Toronto. “Ryan Price?”
“He walked in on us at camp,” Ilya said dryly. “Twice.”
“You didn’t react,” Hollander added, still studying Troy. “You’re the only person who didn’t.”
“If you mean your relationship, I already figured it out,” Troy said with a shrug. “And of course Roz of all people would have some insane forbidden love story.”
“I told you he was safe,” Ilya murmured, nudging his boyfriend.
Troy didn’t hear Hollander’s reply, but he saw the small kiss Ilya pressed to the side of his head. Shane smiled, the first real smile since he’d come downstairs.
They were an odd pair. But somehow… it made sense.
Troy closed his eyes, exhaling deeply, only to snap them open when Hollander asked, “Adrian De La Cruz?”
“What?” Troy and Ilya said in unison.
“Rose hates the guy,” Shane said with a shrug. “Always says he’s a creep. His relationship is… weird.”
Troy tilted his head, offering no real response.
“Troy, but he is sooo ugly,” Ilya whined.
Troy rolled his eyes. Adrian was a lot of things, but ugly wasn’t one of them. He said as much, earning a laugh from Ilya.
“Okay, not ugly,” Ilya amended. “But he is not the sweet, sweet apple boy named Harris.”
Troy rolled his eyes again, but for the first time since seeing the Instagram post, he let out a real breath. If someone had told him a year ago that he’d be sitting in Ilya Rozanov’s living room, feeling more at ease than he had in months, he would’ve laughed in their face.
But watching Ilya and Hollander, watching something real, something steady, settled something in his chest.
They had what Troy had always wanted.
Maybe moving to Ottawa wasn’t as awful as he’d thought.