Chapter Text
Shane hated Troy.
He never said anything, was always nice, amiable, polite. But Ilya knew his husband. He saw the way Shane kept Troy at a distance, avoided being around him one on one, the way his nose scrunched up in annoyance when Troy got within six feet of him, and it was slowly starting to kill Ilya.
Troy had quickly become one of his best friends since his trade to Ottawa. Svetlana and Cliff were a whole country away, and while Ilya had grown fond of Rose in a way he never would have expected, she was Shane's, not Ilya's.
But Troy? Troy was his.
His friend, his teammate-he would soon be Shane's also but Ilya had him first-and he wanted-needed, but he fears that would be pushing it-for his husband to get along with his best friend.
Ilya thinks that might be harder then he hoped because Shane was actively doing anything and everything he possibly could to keep some sort of distance between himself and Troy. But Ilya didn't think anyone else noticed, which was good. It meant he could somehow find a way to fix it before the start of the season and no one would be the wiser.
"Ilya, does Shane not like Troy?"
Ilya almost chokes on his beer. Harris is standing next to him with a slight frown of concern on his face. They're in Boods backyard, a last minute pre-season bonding BBQ.
Shane is sitting criss-cross applesauce on the deck, rocking slightly as he and Wyatt talk animatedly about something-Ilya is sure he'll hear all about it later-while Luca stares at Shane with flushed cheeks that make Ilya grin. His poor rookie.
The question is totally out of left field, but also its not, because Shane has been very subtly avoiding Troy all night. He's even avoided Ilya if he was talking to Troy. Ilya doesn't think he means it to be hurtful, his Shane isn't like that, doesn't go out of his way to purposely hurt others, but the longer time goes on with no developments to suggest anything else, Ilya is feeling less sure of himself.
He's not telling Harris that though.
"Of course Shane doesn't hate Troy. He is going through big changes right now, yes? Lots going on. He's overwhelmed, I think." Ilya says with a hum. He glances up at Troy who is talking with Bood and Dykstra at the grill but keeps glancing over at Shane with a slight furrow in his brow.
Ok, so maybe people have noticed.
"Did Troy say something?"
Harris takes a sip from his cup, "He doesn't want to cause any problems. He knows Shane is adjusting but he thinks its personal, which I get. Troy used to be horrible, he knows that, but he's better, you know that and he wants Shane to know that also. He doesn't want this to affect team dynamics. "
Ilya nods. He does in fact, know that. He hardly remembers the Troy Barrett that played for Toronto. That Troy feels like a lifetime ago, and was someone Ilya didn't know well.
Troy is one of the best and most shy and quiet people that Ilya knows. He just needs to figure out how to get his husband to see that, see how much Troy has changed.
"I will do some detective work, fear not Harris." Ilya says with a smile. Harris laughs before wandering over to where Troy is now curled up on a love seat by the fire pit. Ilya takes another sip before making his own way over to where Shane is sitting, practically curled against Wyatts side as they argue about something, Ilya doesn't know what about but he snaps a quick picture because Shane just looks so fucking cute.
Shane looks up and breaks out into a megawatt smile, reaching out for him. "Ilya!"
God Ilya could just eat Shane up.
"Hi Красивый мальчик." Ilya coos, smacking a kiss onto Shane's hair before he's pulling the smaller man away from Wyatt, plopping himself onto a chair close to Troy and Harris, Shane in his lap like the good lord intended.
"You are having a good time sweetheart?"
Shane nods, head falling back to rest on Ilya's shoulder. 6 months ago, hell, 2 months ago even, Shane would never have done that. He would have been to scared to do something so publicly and it makes Ilya's heart hurt that his beautiful amazing husband was so scared so do something as simple as lean on him in public. But it simultaneously makes Ilya's heart swell with pride that Shane feels so comfortable around his team. He's comfortable enough to let his shoulders sag slightly, drink whatever Ilya deposited in his hands, show physical affection; it gives Ilya hope.
This is good, will be good for Shane. For both of them.
"So good. Hazy is stupid though." Shane pouts at Wyatt who rolls his eyes. "I'm sorry but Bucky cannot be held accountable for what he did as the winter Soldier! He was brainwashed!" Wyatt groans. Clearly they've already had this argument.
Shane's eyes narrow, "I'm not saying that isn't true, but he never apologized to Tony, and then Steve, who Tony thought was his friend proceeded to basically try to kill him! The man just watched the footage of his parents being murdered, and the guy who did it was standing right next to him! It doesn't matter if he was reformed or not, he needed to face the consequences of his own actions. Apologize to Tony at least. Especially Steve. You cannot make me like Steve Rogers ."
"Who's Steve Rogers?"
Wyatt looks at Troy in mock offense-although it could actually be real, Ilya isn't quite sure-and Shane subtly shifts his body away from Troy before he's speaking, his tone polite, just on the verge of coolness. "He's the white guy super hero who thinks he's virtuous, and holier-than-thou and better then everyone else. He doesn't take accountability for his actions, and doesn't apologize when he fucks up. He hurts others and just expects them to move on, forgive him or whatever."
The silence is only slightly tense after that before Wyatt takes a sip from his cup mumbling, "I mean I don't like him either but damn Hollzy."
Ilya looks up at Troy who just looks uncomfortable. Harris is rubbing his shoulder, his worried eyes finding Ilya.
Ok, so maybe Shane has strong feelings about a superhero in a fictional franchise, that doesn't mean he's projecting. Unless he is. Fuck now Ilya is getting confused.
"Ribs are ready!"
And that's the end of it for now, but Ilya files the last 20 minutes under 'will dissect on a later date'.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
It comes to a head a few days later. The season is creeping up on them, a week and a half until their first pre-season game against Buffalo and Ilya can see that Shane's aloofness sets Troy slightly on edge. He gets together with Harris and they agree they need to fix whatever is wrong before the anxiety starts to effect Troy's game.
"Shaney, we were invited out. Double date tonight, we will go, yes?"
Shane is running on the treadmill in their home gym, smiling at Ilya when he comes to stand beside him. "Sounds nice Ilyusha! With who?"
"Harris and Troy invited us over. Something about a new apple pie recipe and a new foster puppy for Anya to play with. And Chiron, of course."
Ilya doesn't miss when Shane's smile dims slightly, before its fixing itself into his social media smile. Ilya hates that smile.
"I don't know baby, I'm kind of tired. You could go though, I'm sure Anya will have a great time!"
"Shane."
"Ilya."
"Мои душа."
Shane sighs, seemingly having resigned himself to his fate. "If it really don't want to go?"
"Then we will not go my love, but there is something between you two, and I think it will be good for both of you to talk."
"Ilya, I really don't want to talk to Barrett."
"You don't have to мои любовь, you can just eat pie and talk to Harris. It will be weird but-"
Shane groans, his chin hitting his chest before he's looking up at Ilya again. "What time do we need to be ready."
Ilya tries to not look too excited.
~~~~~~~~
Shane was really trying his best to not lose his fucking shit.
He felt he was doing very well because they had been at Harris & Troy's place for almost 20 minutes already without bloodshed or crying.
He can feel Troy looking at him, his eyes boring holes into the side of Shanes skull, but if he ignores it hard enough then it simply will not exist so thats what he does.
Until Harris says something about Anya and their new foster dog, and Ilya is saying something before he presses a kiss to the side of Shanes head and he's gone.
It's just Troy and Shane now, sitting in tense silence at the table, and Shanes skin feels too tight.
Troy opens his mouth but Shane isn't the fastest skater in the league for nothing. He's up, out of his seat and in the living room before he even blinks.
"Shane, can we please talk?"
"There's nothing to talk about." Shane’s voice is clipped and rushed out, and he's trying to swallow down his panic and anger but it's proving harder then he thought.
Troy scoffs, brows furrowed, "obviously there is! You dont talk to me or look at me and I understand, ok? I was such an asshole to you and I'm so sorry. But I've changed, you know I have! Im trying to be better and I was in the closet and scared for so long-"
Shane whirls on him, eyes bright with a fire of pure frustration and sharp rage. He's held his tongue, done his best to be nice and good but it's obviously not enough. It never is and Shane is so fucking tired.
"So fucking what? I was in the closet too! I was scared fucking shitless all the time. I was fucking my arch rival, was the poster boy for MLH for my entire fucking career and I STILL never called anyone a faggot on the ice. You're not special Troy, stop acting like your above everyone else because you were scared and in the closet, because that excuse is so fucking thin it's basically transparent." Shane's panting, his vision is slightly cloudy but he can see the tears falling down Troy's cheeks and he has to resist the very strong urge to roll his eyes.
"Shane?" Ilya is walking over to him, concern etched into every line of his face but Shane thinks he might claw out his eyes if he's touched right now. So he takes a step back and feels his heart crack slightly when Ilya stops, not moving any closer to him.
"Troy? Babe what happened?" Harris is at Troy's side, wiping the tears that are staining Troy's skin.
Shane scoffs, "God, I have tried my fucking best to be decent and polite. I never mentioned half of the shit you said to me to Ilya because I know how much you mean to him, and I'm grateful that you were there for him when I couldn't be. I've done my best to respect your talent on the ice and I really tried to let everything go because I knew we would be on the same team and I didn’t want that shit to affect me. But you made me hate myself Troy. For years.
"You were aweful. You and Dallas, with the fucking homophobia and the racist shit-"
"Woah woah woah, I may have been homophobic and I really am sorry Shane. You have no idea how I wish I could go back and change shit, but I was never racist. Never. When Dallas said shit like that I NEVER-"
"You never said anything to stop him either! You stood there and said nothing when he called me and JJ slurs. When he called me yellow skin, or white rice, or ching chong or a half breed, his favorite. You never told him to stop. You were complicit, and that's even worse because you obviously knew better! And now people don't seem to remember that! You came out and you got to be celebrated on a team that, for some fucking reason, loves you. Congratu-fucking-lations. I never got that. I was outed to the whole fucking world against my will, ostracized and shamed by my team, threatened by the commissioner while being picked apart by the entire fucking hockey world.
Every game against him, every move, every face off, all my stats. They were tearing me, not him, just me, apart.
"And I did everything right. I was the best. Generational. A once in a life time player. I had to be the perfect poster boy, the role model for every fucking asian kid who never saw anyone like themselves out on the ice until me. And you will never know what that feels like, and I fucking hate you for having it so easy. I deserved that. Not you."
Shane takes a shaky breath. Ilya is staring at him with so much pain in his eyes and his heart crumbles in his chest just looking at him. Troy's body is shaking, his eyes firmly planted on the floor while Harris rubs his shoulder.
"I'm not your friend Troy. I don't know if I ever will be, and devising this whole fucking night to get us to talk and become friends was really shitty." Shane turns to Ilya and Harris, "You planned this whole night, not for me and Troy to talk, but to make him feel better because someone he harassed for years wont forgive him for the shit he said. I don't care that he changed. That doesn't negate any of what I just said and it won't take pie and some forced one-on-one time to fix it."
The tears are flowing freely down his cheeks and he wants to reign it in and lock it all away. He's said too much. He's probably sobbing, or hyperventilating, cant focus on anything past the slight ringing in his ears and Troy's sobs. He wants to go home and cry into his pillow like he did after every game against Toronto since Troy and Dallas were drafted.
He turns to Harris, and because his mother taught him manners, forces on his social media smile. "Thank you for the pie Harris, it was really good." And with that he's out the door, Anya hot on his heels.
He's sitting in the car for 5 minutes before Ilya is opening the driver's side door. The door closes and it's quiet.
"Shane-"
"No. Not now. Just drive, please. "