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“Fuuuck,” Shane moaned.
He stared at the door as it swung back and forth, until it was completely closed again. He slumped forward against the bathroom wall and covered his face with trembling hands. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“Hey.” Strong arms covered his hands. “Is okay. Maybe he didn’t even notice?”
Shane looked up. “Nothing is okay, Ilya,” he barely breathed. “He just saw us. Fucking fuck, he’s going to tell everyone and then everybody will know that we’re in a relationship and we’ll get outed and—”
Ilya frowned. He also looked worried, but wasn’t in full panic mode like Shane. He glanced at the door, back at Shane and then said, “Wait here.” He squeezed Shane’s hand, before storming out of the bathroom, making that fucking door swing back and forth once again.
Shane stared after Ilya. This was his fucking nightmare. Well, new nightmare. His other nightmare was the one of his parents walking in on them. And okay, that kind of worked out. He was out to his parents now, they knew Ilya was his boyfriend, they accepted it. They more than accepted it, they’d welcomed Ilya into their home as if he was their own son. But… this was different.
A complete stranger had just entered the airport bathroom, right when they were sharing a kiss. A quick kiss in a bathroom far from the busy gates, so that they could spend a few minutes together before their eight-hour flight. Shane insisted on completely separate seats and boarding at different times, so fans wouldn’t speculate.
But that was exactly what he was freaking out over a few minutes ago. (“This was such a bad idea. Why did I let you talk me into going on holiday together? What if a fan spots us and posts about it on social media?”). Even though he really wanted to escape the country with his boyfriend. Ilya had tried to comfort him by giving a peck on the mouth and Shane had leaned in,, wanting to feel those lips on his own again.
Shane could still see the shocked expression on the guy’s face, hear his “Oh shit,” in his ears. It was their fault, of course. They shouldn’t have been embracing in a fucking public bathroom. But Ilya was just there and Shane hadn’t seen him in three weeks and his lips had looked so inviting.
He turned to one of the sinks and turned on the tap to throw water into his face. “Get it together, Hollander,” he muttered, but his heart was still racing. How the fuck were they going to explain this away? Ilya had pointed out that if a fan spotted them together, they would just say they were on foundation business. A weak excuse, but maybe people could believe it. But this?
Shane was just drying his face with a paper towel, when the door opened again. It was Ilya and he was grinning.
“Why do you look so happy?” Shane grumbled. But then he saw who had followed Ilya back into the room.
“Hi,” the guy said sheepishly, holding up an awkward hand. “This guy said you were freaking out?” He had an accent, but Shane couldn’t really place it.
Shane shot a look at Ilya, who was still grinning. “Rozanov?” he said slowly.
“He doesn’t care!” Ilya said happily. “Right?” he asked the man.
The guy nodded. “Yeah man, no idea who you guys are. I mean, no offense, you must be great at whatever you do, but yeah.”
“Really?” Shane said, still a bit wary, but the anxiety slowly left his body.
“No clue!” Ilya crossed over to Shane. He looked so confused. So I ran after him and asked if he knew who I was, who we are. And he said no.”
Shane stared at the man, still unbelieving that the one person in Canada who wasn’t a hockey fan happened to enter the bathroom they – the biggest NHL stars – were making out.
“I’m not Canadian,” the man shrugged. “ You guys must be a big deal around here, right? Are you models or something?” He turned to Shane. “I’m not going to tell anyone I just saw two dudes kissing in an airport bathroom. Maybe I’ll tell my wife some weird Russian guy asked me to come back and ensure his boyfriend—”
“Please don’t,” Shane said quickly. But the word ‘boyfriend’ filled him up with warm, fuzzy feelings. “But uh, thanks. For not caring.”
The man shrugged again, gave them an awkward smile and left the bathroom
“See?” Ilya said. “No problem. Was just random guy.”
Shane let out a hysterical giggle. “I guess?”
Ilya leaned over to grab Shane’s hand, but Shane snatched his hand away. “No hand holding until we’re out of the country,” he said. And then, “Are we sure he’s telling the truth?”
“No, we’re not,” Ilya said simply. “But he looked really fucking surprised, when I asked him to come calm you down. He didn’t even ask for selfie or signature! Can you believe that? He does not want photo with biggest hockey star in the world!”
Shane smiled, shaking his head slightly. “That’s because I’m the biggest hockey star,” he said, walking out of the bathroom, but not before checking if anyone was around.
“What do you mean, Hollander? I am obviously better hockey player than you. I score more goals than you. I am definitely a better skater.”
“Shut up, Rozanov. Let’s go to our gate,” Shane said, but he appreciated Ilya’s attempt to take his mind off things. He glanced around and slowly let his index finger slide across Ilya’s palm to let him know. This was going to be a long flight. But when they’d eventually arrive at their destination, Shane would make damn sure that he would get more than a fleeting kiss this holiday.