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Troy could see the tension in Shane's back as he walked towards the parking lot ahead of him. Fuck. He jogged a little to catch up.
"Hollander!"
He didn't slow down.
"Hollander! You don't have to forgive me! I know I was a nightmare for years and-"
Shane whipped around and exploded at him,
"Yes I do!"
They were both breathing heavily. Shane dropped his duffel and threw his hands up into the air.
"Yes I fucking do Troy!"
He shook his head, trying to disagree,
"No! You don't! I know Ilya and I have become friends, but-"
Shane shut his eyes in a grimace and shook his head,
"We're on the same fucking team."
His voice was low. The way Shane was looking at him made his skin crawl. God this was excruciating, he could feel nausea curling in his gut. Shane didn't let up,
"I don't get to hold a grudge because it'll hurt us on the ice. I don't get to talk about how you acted because everybody already loves you. You're dating the head of PR."
"Harris would never-"
Shane wasn't done,
"There's no room! There's no room for me to be pissed at you. Or not like you. Or even just, Fuck, have some fucking time to get used to..."
Shane shook his hands, gesturing vaguely to all of him,
"Used to what?"
"You! Acting like this! You've got a pride pin on your duffel bag!"
Troy couldn't help but let out a laugh at that, he covered his mouth with his hand. He really had changed. Harris had given it to him months ago, and he'd forgotten that he'd even put it on his bag. Troy nodded his head. He knew what Hollander meant. Sometimes it was still a shock even to him how much he'd changed.
Shane was scrubbing his hands over his face. He started to laugh a little bit too, but there was no humor in it,
"I feel like I'm trying to argue with somebody who doesn't even exist anymore. This is so fucking stupid."
Troy shook his head,
"No it's not?? I was...I've been that way the whole fucking time I've played hockey. You've never known me as anyone else."
There was a moment where they just held each other's gaze. Shane wasn't walking away or yelling at him...so Troy kept pressing,
"Hollander, you're right. We have to figure our shit out on the ice. I know you're angry, and if you push it down it'll just make it worse."
Shane shook his head again,
"Troy-"
"I'm serious! Look, I know you just got here. I'm sure you don't want to start anything-"
Something passed over Shane's face when he said that, fear?
"-but...I don't know man, I think I already started it, right? I mean...I started it years ago."
Shane was looking at him appraisingly, god he hoped this was coming across well. He watched him knit his eyebrows together,
"So what then? What are you saying?"
Troy threw up his hands and dropped them, slapping them on his sides,
"I'm saying be mad! Say what you think, bring up old shit, I don't care!
Shane raised his eyebrows at him and said nothing. Troy let out a heavy sigh,
"...OK I do care. It's not gonna be comfortable but-"
He ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath,
"-I don't run from this shit anymore. And I...."
God this was so fucking embarrassing
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was like that. I was a complete shithead and...these guys-"
He gestured back towards the centaur's locker room,
"-they never treat me that way. Never. It makes me feel so fucking guilty."
He could feel his eyes sting. No fucking way, not now. He grit his teeth,
"The whole team will be laughing, and smiling, and all I can think about is what I was. Shit that I did, or said, or let slip by will pop up in my mind and I feel like such a fucking fraud."
Troy was surprising himself, he hadn't expected all this to come out. Hollander just kept staring at him with an unreadable expression,
"You saw me. Probably at my worst. And....."
Jesus christ just fucking kill me.
"You're like, the angel of hockey and-"
Shane scoffed,
"Not anymore"
There was bitterness in his voice and Troy scowled without really meaning to. He knew what he was referencing. They'd both seen how the media turned on Shane since being outed and transferred to Ottawa. It had pissed him off. He shook his head,
"Don't fucking do that."
It came out a little harsher than Troy had meant, but he kept going,
"Yes you fuckin are. You started a charity for christssakes, you never take digs at other players in interviews. Yesterday, I watched you catch a wasp in a cup and take it outside!"
Troy couldn't read Shane's expression, but they were in too deep to back out now. He sighed and felt his shoulders drop a bit, god he felt pathetic,
"You can't pretend you're not angry, and I don't think we're gonna get past how things are if you don't get to be angry."
If the ground opened up and swallowed him right now he'd be ok with it. For a while Shane just stared at him. His face didn't move when he spoke,
"You sure about that?"
Hollander had never really scared him before. Sure, he was a terror on skates, but that just felt like athletic talent. This was the first time Troy had looked at Hollander off the ice and felt like he might be in danger. Still, he was no fucking coward, not anymore.
"Yeah I'm sure. Let it eat."
Hollander leaned down to pick up his bag,
"We're doing partner drills tomorrow, yeah?"
Troy nodded, confused. Shane gave him a smirk that for some reason felt like a warning,
"See you on the ice."
......
Coach was always encouraging them to mix up their partner pairings. Shane and Troy had never been matched up before. Which Troy had definitely noticed given that he'd paired up with Ilya at least 10 times. Today though, as soon as they were on the ice, Shane was standing right next to him.
Apparently the whole team had heard bits and pieces of them yelling at each other through the walls of the locker room. Harris had given him a concerned look, Ilya had backed off, and the rookies were acting like spooked deer.
Coach called out,
"Alright, we're gonna start with 1v1 battle drills. Trade off who's doing offense and defense every 3 rounds. Pick a spot and get to work."
The rest of the team scattered away from him and Shane, leaving them to claim the section of the boards they were already standing by.
Hollander started circling him like a shark.
"You gonna be an asshole today Barret?"
"Nope. Not an asshole anymore"
Troy pushed off and started circling with him, he could feel his teammates eyes on his back, heard coach hollering at them to get to work. Shane pushed out air through his nose, somewhere between a laugh and a scoff,
"Yeah? You're not gonna pull the sides of your eyes at me?"
Troy could hear Harris gasp from the bench. He ignored it,
"I never fucking did that."
"No. But Dallas did. Right in front of you, and you didn't say shit"
Troy clenched his jaw,
"Nope. Cause I was a fucking coward."
Shane came to a sudden stop, perfectly on top of the starting dot for the drill. Fucker.
"And you're not now?"
Troy held his gaze and shook his head,
"Not anymore."
Shane nodded, he felt like he'd passed some sort of test.
"Alright."
Shane dropped the puck between them and slapped his stick onto the ice,
"Prove it."
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Ilya had never seen either of them like this. Shane was slamming Barrett into the boards like it was the championship game. He'd half expected Coach to intervene, but it looked like he'd come to the same conclusion as Ilya and was giving them space.
Hollander was relentless, in every drill. He was pushing Barrett like he was trying to get him to drop gloves and square up on the ice. Every time Shane would slam him into the boards, or shoulder check him, Ilya would think "He will snap soon", but he didn't. Troy kept pace with Hollander. Bit back at every jab he tossed at him. Ilya kept catching bits and pieces of it,
"Well Troy, you've made it a whole 2 hours and 27 minutes on the ice without calling me a faggot. How does it feel?"
Jesus christ Shane. What the fuck even was this? He looked at Troy half expecting him to walk out, but instead he was, fucking laughing?
"How does it feel to not be a hypocritical little bitch anymore? It feels great Hollander, thanks for asking."
Ilya saw the corner of Shane's mouth twitch. He was going to keep giving them a wide berth, but whatever the hell it was that they were doing, it seemed like it might actually be working.
When they were finally done on the ice, the team broke out for free gym. Everyone had their own metric they were working on, but most of the team would head up to the gym on the second floor.
When Ilya walked in, Hazy was doing some bizarre depth perception drill involving a tiny trampoline and a bunch of brightly colored balls on a string. Goalies are so weird.
Ilya liked getting on the treadmills that looked out over the track behind the building. Partially because he liked treadmills, but mostly because Hollander always started his free gym on the track. On nice days Ilya would run with him. But Hollander was the only one crazy enough to run outside in Ottawa's winter months. After he'd signed, they'd started keeping the track cleared of snow just for him. Ilya had teased him relentlessly about it. "You just got here and you are already treated like princess". "Shut up". "No, is ok, you would be beautiful Russian princess". "......didn't they all die?". "OK you would be beautiful Russian hooker". "Shut UP Ilya".
Ilya liked to watch Shane do his little laps in his little shorts, sue him. He deserved a treat during his workout. Right now, he was the only one on the treadmills. When their cardio days matched up, Barrett would come run next to him. But today, he was out on the track with Shane.
Ilya hadn't heard Shane tell Troy he was coming with him, and he hadn't heard Troy ask. Apparently they'd developed some sort of silent language already. When Shane walked out to the track, Troy went with him, without a word.
Ilya gave up on trying to focus on cardio and hopped off the treadmill. He stood in front of the giant wall of windows, watching them with his arms crossed. Someone walked up and stood beside him.
"How do you think it's going?"
Harris didn't look over at him, he was too busy watching Troy.
Ilya considered it for a moment. During partner drills, he'd noticed that the way they were talking to each other didn't really change. If anything, it had gotten worse as practice had gone on. But there was a slight lessening of tension. A quarter turn of a screw. He felt, maybe stupidly, a little hopeful. But he didn't want to commit Hollander to anything,
"I have no idea. I've never seen them like this."
"Me neither, and you've known Shane a lot longer than I've known Troy."
Harris was right. Ilya considered the fact that Shane had also known Troy longer than Harris had. He wondered if Harris felt like he was learning things about his boyfriend, and whether or not he liked all of them.
Ilya looked at him sideways, Harris's eyes were still fixed out the window. When Ilya looked back to the track, he couldn't help but laugh.
Barrett was by no means out of shape, but they'd already spent three hours on the ice, and Hollander was Hollander. He'd kept pace with him valiantly for the first couple miles, but he was clearly out of juice. Barrett was running in that sloppy, loose way that people do when they have nothing left in the tank. Hollander had noticed, and he was running backwards in front of him. Ilya couldn't hear what he was saying, but he assumed he was giving him grief. He wondered if Hollander would end up coaching someday. Then, Troy stumbled, and sank down to his knees.
Hollander stopped and went to him, saying something and smirking. Troy put his face in his hands and the smile fell off Shane's face....Holy shit is Troy crying?
Harris gasped. He turned to leave like he was going to sprint to the track. Ilya grabbed his arm, holding him where he was,
"Give them a second,"
"But-"
"Look."
Hollander had knelt next to Troy. He put a hand on his shoulder. God Ilya wished he knew what they were saying to each other. Hollander's lips were moving, Troy shook his head. He got up and started to run again. For a second, Hollander just stepped back and watched him go. Some of the other players had noticed what was happening on the track.
They did another lap. Hollander was right behind him now, like he was running support. They finished the lap. Then another, then two more. When Troy tried to go for a fifth Hollander got in front of him. Put his hand on his chest. Troy shook his head again. He tried to get around him and keep running, but Hollander's hand jerked out and grabbed the front of his shirt. Now Ilya and Harris both gasped. Oh shit.
But Shane wasn't trying to fight, he pulled Troy in for a hug. Are they both crying? What the fuck was going on?
Troy pulled back, but he left his hands on Hollander's shoulders. He was clearly giving some sort of speech. Hollander was nodding his head, tears streaming down his face. After a while Troy said something and they both laughed. They hugged again.
Ilya and Harris glanced at each other, in shock. When they looked back Troy and Shane were gathering their gear, heading back into the training facility. Harris nodded quickly,
"OK here they come, act natural."
"You are saying that to me or to you?"
Harris laughed, and then immediately stopped himself to school his face back into a neutral expression. Wow he might actually be a worse liar than Shane.
When Troy and Shane burst through the gym doors, both of them were soaked with sweat. Chests heaving, and huge smiles on their faces. The whole team was pretending not to pay attention. Shane took a long draw from his water bottle and then broke the silence,
"Same time next week shithead?"
Troy has his hands on his knees. He laughed and shook his head, still out of breath,
"You are such a jackass, that whole golden boy thing is a fuckin act."
Hollander threw back his head and laughed. Ilya looked over, and Harris caught his eye looking perplexed. He, very unsubtly, tilted his head towards them as if to say "What the hell?" Ilya just shrugged. They were still insulting each other, but they weren't fighting. If anything, it seemed like they were having fun.
Shane walked over to the treadmill next to him and started doing his cool down. Ilya raised his eyebrows,
"Did you kids have fun?"
Shane laughed and nodded. He seemed way more at ease than he had been this morning. Honestly, more at ease than he'd been in the last week. Ilya was already planning the debrief in the car ride home. Shane just smiled at him,
"I love you"
Woah. That was the first time he'd said that in the team gym. Ilya felt his face split open in a grin,
"I love you too."
He glanced up, and caught sight of Troy leaning to kiss Harris in the reflection on the glass. Apparently all was well. Ilya lost himself in the treadmill again, curious to see what this would mean for them on the ice.