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**Nov 2018**
Ilya Rozanov took a sip of his vodka and wished he was just about anywhere else.
It wasn’t the restaurant’s fault. The vibe of the place was elegant yet sexy with its low lighting and luxurious decor in rich tones of burgundy, black, and cream. The menu was fresh and enticing and the waitstaff seemed to anticipate your every need without being obtrusive. He wished he could bring Shane there for a date night. He could almost picture Shane sitting next to him in the tufted black leather booth. Its high walls provided enough privacy that Shane might let him hold his hand under the table. Or even steal a kiss after a glass of wine or two.
Maybe one day, after they made their relationship public. Ilya hated how far away one day was starting to feel.
The real reason that Ilya wanted to crawl out of his skin at the moment was the man sitting across from him, Ted Something. Ilya hadn’t quite caught his last name when he introduced himself and didn’t care enough to ask. Ted had the handshake of a dead fish and he smelled like he had bathed in Dior Sauvage. He was currently prattling on about membership access levels and customer retention rates in his horrible Men’s Warehouse blazer.
Since Ted was footing the bill for that evening, Ilya played his part by nodding along pretending to listen while he ate his hundred dollar dry-aged ribeye and tried not to get red-wine reduction on his suit jacket. Shane was playing in St. Paul that night and Ilya’s fingers were practically itching to pick up his phone again to check the score.
Ted Something was the VP of Marketing for Pulse Performance Wear, a new subscription athletic wear company that Shane’s mom had suggested he meet with. Yuna Hollander had first learned of them when Ted had approached her about signing with Shane, but he was already under contract with Reebok. They were debuting a new athleisure line that spring so Yuna felt it would be too much of a conflict. She had been hinting heavily to Ilya recently that he could be doing so much more for himself with brand deals if he put any effort into it. He had decided to take the meeting mainly to please her.
His agent back in Boston had been pleasantly shocked to hear he was even interested after many years of Ilya turning down almost every offer that came his way. He didn’t want to act like an idiot for a TV commercial no matter how much they offered him and he just couldn’t be bothered.
Most of the more elite global brands wouldn’t touch him anyway with his reputation in the league for being a womanizing loudmouth asshole. And he was fine with that really. He had crafted that persona intentionally and wore it like battle armour on and off the ice. It was a useful distraction that drove most people off before they could get too close. Shane of course hadn’t been most people.
Things had changed with Shane last year. It was for real now. Not just endless text banter where neither of them said what they really felt. Or hotel sex every few months that left him feeling hollowed out and craving something more. By some miracle, Shane loved him back. Actually wanted a future with him and had plans to make it happen. It was everything that Ilya hadn’t allowed himself to hope for and more. What he hadn’t fully appreciated at the time, was that finally getting a real relationship with Shane meant that he also got Shane’s parents as part of the package deal.
When Shane’s dad had stumbled upon them at the cottage and Shane had been forced to introduce Ilya to his parents, they had some reservations about him at first. Which was fair considering that Shane, their beautiful and gifted son, was Canada’s Golden Boy and the best player in the NHL and he was…Ilya Rozanov. Still, Ilya would be lying if he didn’t admit that it stung when David Hollander had half-jokingly asked Shane, “And there were no nice men in Montreal?”
To David’s credit, he hadn’t yelled or thrown anything. He hadn’t tossed either of them out of the house or even said anything really intentionally cruel. Ilya had been quietly bracing himself from the moment he had walked in, knowing that if it had been his own father in David’s place any of those options or worse would have been on the table. Thankfully, none of those things ended up happening.
Instead, by the end of the evening, Ilya realized that Shane’s reserved, soft-spoken dad had quietly accepted him after just a few hours together in a way that Grigori Rozanov never had. Ilya had learned the hard way over his life how to read people, particularly other men, to assess if they were going to be a threat or if they could be considered safe. David was a good man. David was safe.
Yuna Hollander had been a little harder to win over at first. She was protective over Shane, as she should be, and skeptical of Ilya’s intentions. Ilya hadn’t blamed her at the time. The only way she knew him was as her son’s biggest rival and by the cocky attitude he showed to the world. That changed quickly when she saw how Ilya was able to comfort Shane and help pull him out of an anxiety spiral at their dinner table. After that, her icy demeanor towards him melted immediately.
Since then, at twenty-six years old, Ilya had the unique experience of actually being parented for the first time since his mother passed away when he was twelve. It was like a revelation. He didn’t have to prove anything to earn David and Yuna’s attention, and he didn’t have to hide anything from them because their affection wasn’t transactional. They were just there for him without him even having to ask.
The first time Yuna texted to remind him to go to the grocery store before a major snowstorm hit Boston that following winter, Ilya screenshotted it immediately. He didn’t even know why but he wanted to save it. It was probably no big deal to her. The kind of thing she’d send to Shane all the time. For Ilya it felt monumental. Evidence that someone other than Shane was thinking about him in his day to day life and cared enough to reach out over something so small as whether or not he had enough bread and milk at home.
When he texted Shane about it, Shane had actually apologized for her at first - like he was worried that she was nagging him. Ilya had to talk himself down from being genuinely annoyed with him before he sent a reply. Of course Shane took that kind of thing for granted as nagging. Why wouldn’t he? He had never known any different. His parent’s love and support for him was an overflowing wellspring that would never run dry. Ilya, who had been thirsty for such affection for decades, savored every drop of consideration David and Yuna wanted to send his way.
Which was why Ilya found himself at a much nicer restaurant than had any business being in downtown Ottawa, wondering why Ted Something thought he would be interested in hearing about the moisture-wicking technology of Pulse’s yoga leggings.
“I can get you a promo box of samples for your girlfriend.”
Ilyna snapped to attention, his steak momentarily forgotten. “What?”
Ted’s eyes gleamed, recognizing he had Ilya’s focus again. “Or maybe you need more than one? I’m sure you’ve got a whole stable of ladies.”
Ilya must have missed something. At what point did he give this guy Ted the impression that he was interested in being best friends? “Of course,” he replied, choosing not to correct him.
“I knew it!” Ted exclaimed. “A guy like you? You must have one in every city, am I right?”
Ilya imagined replaying the conversation later for Shane and he couldn’t keep the smirk off his face. “Something like that.”
Of course, Ted seemed to take that as a sign that they were bros now or something.
“If you don’t mind me saying,” he said to Ilya, “I think this could be a real opportunity for us and for you. That’s why I wanted to meet with you personally instead of just going through your agent.”
Ilya took a sip of his drink, curious as to where this was going. “Oh really?”
“Absolutely! Getting a high profile athlete like yourself as a brand ambassador could help take Pulse in a totally different direction. Very cool, a little edgy. You’ve certainly got that badass Russian aura locked up,” Ted joked. “Definite alpha male energy. We could appeal to a totally new customer base. Males eighteen to thirty-four is a demographic that I’ve personally been trying to attract for a while now.”
Ilya nearly choked trying to take another bite of his steak and had to cover it with a cough. Ted had no idea of course that Ilya had been attracting that same demographic since he was about sixteen.
“Mm,” he replied simply.
Ilya had learned very quickly when he first moved to Boston as a rookie that North Americans for some reason were deeply uncomfortable with any such non-responses or silences in conversation. They tended to fill the gaps, offering information without him having to do a single thing. Ted was no different.
“And as for you,” Ted went on, “I think this could be a chance for you to be the face of an emerging brand and really be ahead of the curve on this one. A trendsetter. And we wouldn’t need you to change anything about your image. The bad boy thing works great for our purposes. If anything I’d say lean into it. You know, within reason of course,” Ted added with a chuckle. He gestured to Ilya with his cocktail glass in hand. “Not to mention you’d be beating Shane Hollander out of a potential payday.”
Interesting. Ilya cocked his head to the side, pretending he didn’t know exactly what Ted was trying to do by mentioning Shane to him. “Shane Hollander? You have met with him as well?”
“We’ve sent out feelers to his people,” Ted said, playing it non-committal. Not knowing of course that Ilya already knew Shane and Yuna had passed on it. “Everyone knows you two are rivals. Personally, I’d rather see you take it. I think you match the vibe of the direction we should be going for a lot better. Hollander is a marquee player for sure but he’s also a little…safe.”
“Safe.” Ilya repeated. He pushed his plate away. Suddenly he wasn’t hungry anymore.
“Exactly,” Ted nodded. “And in my business, safe is boring. Boring is not what anybody wants.”
Ilya focused on keeping his expression as neutral as possible. Shane Hollander? Best hockey player in the league, Shane Hollander? Smart, sexy, caring, good friend, good son, and best boyfriend, Shane Hollander? He was the only one who got to call Shane boring because he did it with love. Not Ted Something who ordered his filet-mignon well done.
“You know his mom manages his career, right?” Ted scoffed.
Ilya tensed up. “I was told that, yes.” He didn’t mention that the person who told him was Shane himself.
“Have you met her?” Ted asked. “Yuna Hollander?”
“I ran into her in an elevator once,” Ilya said with a shrug. Technically it wasn’t a lie.
Ted leaned in conspiratorily. “Well let me tell you, I’ve dealt with her and wow that is some tiger-mom type stuff going on there. What a ballbuster.” He lowered his voice to a loud whisper. “I mean, I don’t like to toss around the word bitch lightly. That’s not my style. But sometimes there’s just no other word for it, you know?”
“Ah, I see.” Ilya wanted to reach right across the table and break Ted Something’s nose. Instead he leaned back against the booth seat and twisted his napkin under the table to keep his hands occupied.
“I knew you’d get it,” Ted told him excitedly. “I could tell right away we’re on the same page. That’s why I’d rather work with you on this. I think we could do something really innovative here. You know, disrupt the industry norms.”
“Oh, I get it,” Ilya nodded. “For sure.”
Ilya got it alright. He knew exactly what kind of toxic bullshit Ted was trying to drip into his ear, thinking that he would actually be on the guy’s side with the way he was talking shit about Yuna.
He threw back the rest of his vodka. It was all Ilya could do to keep himself from taking this fucker’s head off.
Clearly oblivious to the danger he was in, Ted pounded the table triumphantly. “That’s what I’m talking about, man.” He picked up his napkin and wiped his mouth. “Excuse me for a second, I have to hit the head. Order yourself another drink. I’ll be right back.”
Ilya watched Ted wind his way through the restaurant towards the bathrooms and considered his options. He had to play this relatively cool. He’d only been in Ottawa for a couple of months. He and Shane had planned to make a public statement announcing the start of the Irina Foundation in a few weeks, but at the moment as far as the world knew they were still enemies.
Ilya was worried it would raise too many questions in Ted’s tiny mind if he started defending Shane out of nowhere. Yuna on the other hand - she was an innocent bystander in all of this and she didn’t deserve to have Ted Something of Overpriced Running Shorts International call her a bitch behind her back. No woman did.
No one fucked with Yuna Hollander on his watch.
Ilya signaled for the waitress. He asked her to drop off the check when she got a chance, then got up and headed for the men’s room. The dinner meeting was over as far as he was concerned. He had no intention of signing on to be Pulse’s newest brand ambassador, but before he left he was going to set Ted straight on a few things.
The men’s restroom was a long gleaming hall of black and white marble tile. Along one side were individual cubicles and on the other was a row of sinks with huge gilded mirrors. Opposite the door was the row of urinals where Ted Something was standing, taking a piss. Luckily for Ilya, it looked like they were the only two men in there. He didn’t want an audience for what he was about to do.
As soon as the door shut behind Ilya, Ted looked over his shoulder with surprise. “Oh! Hey, man.”
Ilya calmly walked over to the urinals and stood at the one right next to Ted even though he could have had his choice of any of them. He knew exactly what he was doing. As predicted, Ted gave him a confused look and shifted slightly away from him trying to maintain some personal space.
Ilya took his dick out and began relieving himself. He could feel Ted glancing at him awkwardly out of the corner of his eye. It was obvious that the other man was clearly very uncomfortable to be losing a literal dick measuring contest that he hadn’t signed up for.
Ilya turned his head and looked right at him. “I was thinking about what you said.”
“Um yeah, that’s great to hear.” Ted zipped himself up quickly and moved to the sink to wash his hands. “So what do you think, should I have our guys send your guy over a contract?”
Ilya finished up and tucked himself back into his pants. He turned to face Ted as he zipped up his fly. “Not about brand partnership. About Yuna Hollander.”
Ted’s wary gaze met his in the mirror as Ilya approached. He waved his hands erratically under the faucet trying to activate the motion sensor to start the water. “What about her?”
Ilya stood at the sink next to him. He collected some soapy foam in his palm from the automatic dispenser and put his hands under the faucet. The water started immediately for him.
“I was thinking,” he continued. “Maybe you would like a chance to take back what you called her.”
“I’m sorry?” Ted said half-jokingly, aiming to lighten the tension. “Listen bro, sorry if you took offense or whatever. I’m just one of those guys who calls it like I see it. Can’t fault me for being honest, right?” He moved to the next sink down the line and tried again to wash his hands, this time with more success. “Come on, let me buy you another round.”
“This is true.” Ilya grabbed a paper towel and dried himself off, moving slowly and deliberately. “Honesty is important.”
Relief crossed over Ted’s face. He finished rinsing his hands and shook some of the water off into the sink. “Absolutely. That’s what I always say.”
Ilya tossed his used paper towel into the garbage bin and politely handed Ted a fresh one.
“I will be honest with you then, and tell you that I think your business model is terrible idea,” Ilya confessed. “No one needs new set of workout clothes coming every month. Not even pro-athletes like me. Or do your t-shirts and sweatpants fall apart so easily that people will need to replace every few weeks? Sounds very wasteful. People will cancel after six months and tell their friends it's not worth it.”
Ted paled. He looked like a man who just realized the floor underneath his feet was actually quicksand. He dropped his used paper towel on the sink edge. “What? Hey, no let me explain-”
“To be even more honest, Ted,” Ilya went on. “I think you say rude things not because you are telling it like it is - your words, yes? You claim is for that reason because you think that gives you freedom to say whatever shit you want.”
“Woah, woah! You’re taking this way out of context, man! No need to let it ruin the whole evening.” Ted said, frantically trying to salvage things. He held up his hands like he was trying to calm an angry bull. “Hey, I heard you were a big car guy, right? Let's put this all behind us and I’ll let you take my new baby for a spin. It’s the new Audi TT RS in metallic red. You’ll love it.”
“Also, Ted.” Ilya went on, ignoring the other man’s desperation. “I honestly think you are threatened by strong women. Do they make you nervous? Scared they will make you look dumb? So you put them down to make yourself feel like a big man. But no, Ted. You are not big man.” Ilya shook his head with a look of disgust. “You are just an asshole.”
Ted’s eyes narrowed. Something in his expression went twisted and hard. “Wow, I didn’t realize cancel culture had made it all the way to Russia.”
He stepped closer, sticking his finger in Ilya’s face. “Oh wait, you’re not fucking her are you?” he smirked, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I mean wow that is low. I know you and Hollander are competitors or whatever, but dicking down your rival’s mom? That's just diabolical.”
Ilya snapped. Acting on autopilot, he threw Ted against the bathroom wall just like he would check an opposing player against the boards on the ice. Ilya’s forearm was like an iron bar against Ted’s neck, pinning him to the cold black tile.
“Take. It. Back.” Ilya practically growled. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears.
Ted’s eyes were wild. He pushed at Ilya’s arm trying to free himself to no avail. “What are you crazy?! Get the fuck off me!”
“Tsk tsk tsk. Risky move.” Ilya leaned closer, pushing his forearm a little harder into the man’s neck. His face was just inches away from Ted’s. “You never call a crazy person crazy to their face. Everyone knows this.” He grinned maniacally, showing every one of his teeth like a shark. “Now be a good boy and take back what you said.”
Ted sputtered, wincing in pain. “Okay! Okay, I take it back! I’m sorry!”
“Very good. See, that was not hard.” With his free hand, Ilya patted Ted’s cheek just a hair too roughly to be an innocent gesture. He dropped his arm from Ted’s neck but he didn’t back away even an inch.
Ted slumped down, leaning against the wall and breathing hard. “You’re a fucking psycho.”
Ilya nodded in agreement. “We understand each other then. You keep Yuna Hollander’s name out of your fucking mouth, and I won’t have to come find you and show you how psycho I can be.”
He took a step back and casually straightened his suit jacket as if nothing had occurred. “And just in case you feel like telling anyone about this, you should know I have contacts - friends, from Moscow.” Ilya looked Ted right in the eye, cold and dispassionate. “One call from me, they could make you wish you’d never been born.”
What Ted didn’t need to know was that Ilya’s ‘friends from Moscow’ was really just Svetlana. Sveta was more of a lover than a fighter, but if he ever needed to hide a body she would be his first call.
Ilya didn’t wait for Ted’s response. He left the guy hyperventilating in the bathroom and made his way out of the restaurant. As he passed the hostess stand, he crossed paths with their waitress and slipped her two hundred dollars in cash. “For you. In case my dinner companion does not tip as well as I do,” he said with a wink.
Adrenaline had his hands shaking a bit as he started his car and drove out of the parking lot. Ilya took his time going home, letting the quiet darkness of the night envelope him in its embrace like an old friend. Eventually it calmed the feral thrum of his heartbeat.
He’d text Shane when he got home, Ilya thought to himself. The Minnesota game had to be over by now. Maybe if Shane could get away from Hayden for a little while he could call. Ilya could put him on speaker so they could talk while he packed for his flight the next day. The Centaurs were scheduled to play Atlanta. He was already heavily redacting the story of Ted Something in his head for when Shane asked how his meeting had gone. After all, there was no need to ruin his night.
Ilya pumped the gas and the car responded instantly.
It would be really nice to hear Shane’s voice.
*****
A few weeks later, Ilya and Shane were at David and Yuna’s house having dinner. It was several days after their press conference announcing the Irina Foundation and they were trying to enjoy a normal evening away from the media storm. The press had a field day with the reveal of their public friendship of course, but eventually they were able to redirect most of the focus away from themselves and put the emphasis on the charity.
Ilya had signed with a new Canadian agent, Farah. She was already representing Shane and Yuna was very happy with her work. She was dedicated and thoughtful and refreshingly non-judgemental. She was someone who both he and Shane felt like could be trusted with their secret. They were going to need all the best people they could get on their side when it all finally came out.
Ilya was helping David prepare dinner. He had the sleeves of his hoodie pushed up, chopping carrots and celery for the pot roast David was making. David liked to involve him as his helper in things like making a meal, or powerwashing the garage, or replacing the ceiling fan in the guest bedroom. Little ‘dad’ projects that he probably would’ve asked Shane to help with in the past or he could’ve just as easily handled himself. Ilya had come to understand that it was his way of showing he cared. Spending quality time with Ilya, quietly imparting his knowledge, and gently offering advice. It made Ilya feel seen in a way he couldn’t put words to.
Yuna opened a bottle of red wine and poured a couple of glasses for David and herself. She set David’s down next to him on the kitchen countertop so it would be within easy reach of where he was peeling potatoes. Then she grabbed some tumbler glasses from the cabinets, a tall one for Shane’s ginger ale and a short one for the vodka David kept on hand for Ilya.
“Ilya, honey,” she began. “I’ve been meaning to ask you. What ever happened with Pulse Performance Gear? Should we have Farah follow up with them?”
“Ah, no,” Ilya quickly assured her. “It wasn’t a good fit.”
“Oh. Well, nevermind then,” Yuna patted his shoulder affectionately as she dropped Ilya off his drink and continued over to the kitchen table to bring Shane his soda. “I’m sure Farah can find something better for you anyway. How about Under Armour?”
“Or…” Shane said, looking up from his phone. “How about something that doesn’t mean my boyfriend has to be on a billboard in his underwear?
“It’s not underwear,” Yuna scoffed, sitting at the kitchen table across from him. “Its just a compression base layer.”
Shane gave her a look. “Its basically underwear.”
“Now Calvin Klein,” Yuna went on, excitedly. “That would be underwear. Actually, that’s not a bad idea. We could put some feelers out. Ilya, what do you think?”
“Mom!” Shane scowled at her.
Ilya laughed, amused at his angry kitten face. “You are jealous.”
“Didn’t you do an underwear ad?” David pointed out, glancing over at Shane.
“A long time ago, and it wasn’t like that,” Shane said defensively.
“Like what?” Yuna asked innocently.
“Like…” Shane sputtered. The tips of his ears were turning red. He gestured vaguely in Ilya’s direction. “Well, I mean just look at him.”
David tried and failed to keep a smirk off his face. Ilya just shrugged like he didn’t know what Shane was talking about.
“Shane!” Yuna scolded him jokingly. “Let him do what he wants. You’re dating a very attractive young man. You should be proud of him.”
“Thank you, Yuna,” Ilya said with a smile.
“I am proud of him! That’s not-,” Shane was fully flustered now. “How about AllState Car Insurance? Or Gatorade?”
As much fun as Ilya was having watching Shane short-circuit over the idea of him doing an underwear shoot, he decided to save him.
“How about Adidas?”
Yuna turned to face him, all business again. “Really?”
Ilya nodded and dumped the carrots he had been chopping into a bowl. “Is very popular brand in Russia. I wear their things all the time anyway so it would be easy collaboration.”
David looked up from his potatoes. “Makes sense.”
“Okay, great.” Yuna clapped her hands together. “I’ll shoot Farah an email tomorrow. Unless you want to do it yourself?”
“No is okay if you want to,” Ilya told her. “Thank you.” He understood she was just trying to help him like she’d always done for Shane.
Ilya wiped his hands off on a kitchen towel and pulled a small box about halfway out from the pocket of his sweatshirt before he hesitated. He’d gotten a little something for Yuna as a gift. Maybe it was dumb. He should have checked with Shane first. Or David. Maybe this wasn’t the right moment.
“What’s that?” David asked him.
Of course, he noticed it. David had been a goalie when he played at McGill. Goalies see everything.
Since it was too late to hide it now, Ilya took it out and cleared his throat. “Just small thing for Yuna.”
Yuna perked up at that. “For me?”
Ilya stepped towards her. He looked to Shane who smiled at him, encouragingly.
“Is nothing really,” he told Yuna, handing her the box. He watched her face nervously.
Yuna opened the box to reveal a thin gold bracelet elegantly accented with pearls.
“Oh,” Yuna gasped. “Ilya.” She looked up at him, eyes bright. “It’s gorgeous.”
She stood up and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, sweetie. I love it.”
Ilya felt shot through with a warm glow. “You’re welcome.”
“Shane, look.” Yuna brought it over to show to Shane. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
Shane smiled, his eyes lighting up at how delighted she was. “Wow, yeah it is. Here give me your wrist.” He took it out of the box for her and helped her put it on.
Ilya felt David step up next to him, coming to take a look himself. “Nice job,” David told him.
Ilya nodded. He didn’t trust his voice with the lump in throat.
“But,” Yuna said, looking to Ilya. “It’s not my birthday or anything like that.”
Ilya cleared his throat. “You did so much with the foundation to help get it running. I wanted to say thank you.” He shrugged, aiming for nonchalance. “Also, there never needs to be a reason to give beautiful woman jewelry.”
“Oh that is good. Very smooth,” Yuna giggled.
“She’s going to be impossible now,” David laughed and returned to his potatoes. “Way to raise the bar for the rest of us.”
“Yeah, seriously,” Shane said with a shake of his head. Then his brow furrowed for a moment. He picked up his phone and did a quick search. When he found what he was looking for his expression softened.
Shane looked up at him with his big brown eyes. “Ilya,” he said gently.
Ilya had to look away. The way Shane was able to see right through to the soft underbelly of him still floored him. He shook his head, trying to telegraph to Shane not to make a big deal out of it. It was too much.
Yuna must have noticed the change of tone in his voice. She looked from one of them to the other. “What?”
Shane turned to his mom. “Today is Mother’s Day in Russia.”
A complicated mess of emotions that Ilya was well familiar with washed over him. Grief was certainly there, as always. Sadness, and its evil twin shame. Shame for how his mother had died, miserable and alone. Shame how much he still needed her.
Before he realized what was happening, Yuna had her arms around him hugging him tightly. “Oh Ilya.”
Ilya hugged her back, blinking rapidly. He didn’t know what to say. Everything felt like too much or not nearly enough.
Thank you for Shane. I’ll love him until my last breath. Thank you for making me feel welcome in your family. I’m sorry in advance for being too needy. I’ll try not to be a burden. I hope I can make you and David proud.
Yuna released him and touched his cheek. “Thank you for letting me share this with you and your mom. I’m honored.”
She turned to Shane. “How lucky am I, huh?” Her voice was cheerful if a little watery. “I get to have two special days. One for each of my boys.”
Shane smiled, eyes shining. “Lucky us.”
Ilya retreated to the safety of the kitchen and the uncomplicated comfortable silence that David’s presence offered.
Yuna and Shane started talking about the professional photos Hayden and Jackie had taken of their family last week for their upcoming holiday cards. Their chatter became a pleasant white noise in the back of Ilya’s mind as he took a moment for himself. He stood for a beat just staring down at the kitchen cutting board trying to pull himself together.
He’d spent so many years anesthetizing himself using parties and booze and sex and punishing his body on the ice - anything to distract himself from feeling his feelings. It just was easier. Less messy, less embarrassing, less chance of getting hurt. Then this slow fucking hockey player with beautiful freckles that he had been trying so desperately not to love invited him to his cottage.
Now that he was feeling things again, his emotions were a raging river and he was just riding the current trying to keep his head above water. Sometimes it was exhilarating. Sometimes it was terrifying. Ilya couldn’t contain it again at this point if he tried. As overwhelming as it could be at times, it had brought him closer to Shane. Which had in turn brought him Yuna and David. For all that, Ilya never wanted it to stop.
David interrupted his thoughts by plunking down a couple of large yellow onions on his cutting board. “There you are, son.”
Ilya looked up at him, his vision going liquid around the edges.
David smiled, his expression soft and understanding. He put his hand on Ilya’s shoulder and gave it an affectionate squeeze, then turned back to his own tasks and let him be.
Ilya did not cry.
If a couple of tears did slide down his cheeks…well, that was between him and the onions.