Chapter Text
“If you have any questions about his discharge instructions- this is the best number to call. The most important thing is to manage the pain and keep an eye out for any sign of infection.”
Shane forced a nod as he stared at the paperwork. He had heard them the first three times he had been given these instructions. What he knew was that every minute they were left in this hospital- was another minute for the media to gather outside. Their announcement had broken outside of the hockey world. He’d finally checked his phone late last night and found dozens of messages from his friends across various industries- not just hockey. The hockey world was having a meltdown, the rest of the world seemed to be celebrating with them. He wished that he didn’t have to return to the reality of hockey so quickly, but waiting to face this was not going to do them any good. If he needed to make a move or was going to be able to stay with Montreal- he needed to know sooner rather than later.
“Mr. Rozanov- I hope the next time we see you is for another charity visit- not because of a hockey injury.”
“Thank you.”
“They’ve got us a pathway out- but we still might get mobbed getting in the car.”
“Is okay. Happy go home with you.”
Ilya gripped his hand tight and then settled back into the wheelchair. The drains were hung carefully, the brilliant white dressing still around his neck. He looked like he’d survived a near death experience- which was wildly accurate. Shane could feel his palms sweating, the nerves rising to the surface. Every move they made over the last 48 hours was to make it so that their lives didn’t have to be hidden from the world. The pit in his stomach told him that now that the adrenaline had worn off- the dread was setting in. He was going to lose so much, but he was also sure that he’d already gained more than he could dream of. He just needed to fight off the panic for a bit longer.
“Breathe, Shane. Breathe. Is okay.”
“How do you know that?”
“Pretty sure is Pike right there.”
He jerked his head up and locked eyes with Hayden and then saw J.J. standing a little further down the hallway. They fell in on either side of him and he settled. He was not sure who told them that they were leaving, but he was thankful to have friends on either side of him. Friends that would help beat back the press that had been waiting for a shot of Ilya Rozanov post injury. They went down a staff only elevator, his dad had been given permission to pick them up from that entrance. He doubted that they would be lucky enough to exit the hospital unseen.
Ilya’s hand gripped his again. The quiet was tense and utterly unwelcome. Hayden stood in front of them and J.J. stood next to him, a hand landed on his shoulder to give it a squeeze. Hayden and J.J. weren’t exactly enforcers- but they were respected enough in Canada to buy them some time or to just keep the press away.
Centaurs teammates met them at the bottom floor, filling in to the pack of hockey players surrounding them. He let out a shaky breath. These were the people that loved them. The teammates that did not care about who they loved and only cared about how they showed up and worked on the ice day in and day out. He pushed back the emotions- he would break once they were settled in the car. He thought everyone would abandon him, that no one would try to meet him where he was. It was why he had hidden who he was for so long and now he felt what it might be like with a team like this. He hated that it might mean leaving the team he’d built from the ground up, but this feeling? This feeling was worth it.
“Wiebe and Harris are conducting a press conference at the front of the hospital. Giving some more information from the press statements Farah approved. Should have kicked off a couple of minutes ago. Hopefully your parents have a normal car.”
“Is boring. Not like mine.”
“Fuck you, Rozanov.”
J.J. and Hayden’s shoulders shook- they tried to keep their laughter in- but it escaped them. He was sure that they thought he’d never chirp Ilya again. He was not sure that they were ready to hear what those ‘fuck you, Rozanovs’ really meant between them. But they were here. They had driven up from Montreal to be here for him and that meant something. Something that he was not sure he was ready to name.
“J.J. and Hayden are going to go with you in the car. We will all make our ways back to Roz’s at different intervals- hopefully if there’s any media interested enough having a line of MLH cars leaving will give you some peace.”
“Okay. We can do this.”
“Yes, we can.”
*******************
Shane settled on the couch in Ilya’s home- he’d just gotten him settled in bed with painkillers and a promise to yell if he needed him. The Centaurs were slowly checking in- saying who had and had not been followed. Hayden and J.J. stood across from him and he let out a sigh. It started with them- telling the truth about who he was started with them. And while it was the middle of the season- he could not do this conversation sober. When his father placed a glass of vodka in front of him, he gave him a nod of appreciation.
“We’re only ten minutes away if you need us. You get some rest too, Shane.”
“I…I will. Thanks, Dad- for everything.”
He looked back at Hayden and J.J. and then motioned for them to sit. Where did he begin? How honest did he want to be? He couldn’t exactly pretend that this was only something that had started in the last year, even though he’d watched guys on the team fall for their wives just as quickly. This was different. The risks and everything that went into what he had done spoke to a long term relationship that none of them had been privy to.
“Fucking Ilya Rozanov? You couldn’t have picked someone else to fall in…”
“J.J.- I will toss you out of this house right now if that is all you have to fucking say to me. Roz…Il…Ilya and I- it’s never been easy. But all I knew was that on Tuesday night I saw the person I love more than anything in the world bleeding out on a hockey rink and I couldn’t get to him. I had to lie and manipulate to get here- I hate that that was the only thing I could do. I didn’t even get a fucking phone call because I was not his medical proxy. Bood…Zane Boodram told me that the only thing Ilya wanted him to pass on was a message to me. Bood didn’t know what it meant. Ilya thought he was dying and he wanted to make sure that I knew he loves me. I can’t live in a world where that is something he questions I know. So I’m done. I’m done with fucking hiding that I’m gay and my partner is Ilya Rozanov. Has been off and on since 2010. It may not have been the exact terms I imagined, but I don’t regret this decision for even a moment.”
“J.J.- he’s Boston fucking Lily. You’ve seen what one text from him does- how it loosens Shane up- puts him in the right mindset. I don’t know how you can witness that for years and not think that we have been hoodwinked this entire time to think that Rozanov is an asshole.”
“I mean, he is an asshole. But he’s my asshole.”
“What’s he said about coming back to Montreal?”
“He understands that I want to help the team go after another cup- if that’s what the team wants. He’s concerned that the team will leave me open and in positions that can get me hurt. I don’t disagree with him. I think this is probably the last ride, boys- whether I intended it to be or not is besides the point. I read the messages this morning- they don’t have cause to excuse me from the team- but we all know this is about to be a hostile work environment.”
“C’mon Shane- it doesn’t have to be this way. Tell him J.J., we can get the rest of the team to understand and to accept this. It’s just a surprise…”
“No- he’s right. There’s no one that can afford him though- except maybe Boston.”
“And Ottawa.”
“They blew most of their cap to get Rozanov…that would be a…”
“No- it’s perfect, Hayd. You said it yourself- Rozanov can’t be that bad to land Hollzy.”
“And from the emails from Farah and my mom- the endorsement deals are more solid than ever. I’ll survive this and…I don’t know…I think I’ll come out better on the other side. I can play with Ilya- not against him and that…it’s worth it all.”
“So what’s the goal of the team meeting tomorrow?”
“I just want one final ride. They can hate me. Say all the homophobic shit they want to in the locker room- I just want one more ride in Montreal. I owe this organization for everything it did to get me started, even if it doesn’t want me anymore.”
“Okay, Capitaine. We’ve got your back.”
*****************
He stared at the restocked kitchen- being this deep in the season- he knew where this was on Ilya’s priority list. He also did this to keep from waking Ilya when he went and snuggled into the bed with him. He needed sleep. The doctors had done their jobs to save his life, but he hadn’t been able to get rest. Between the checks that were needed, his team, and Shane- he knew that Ilya was exhausted.
He started putting meal prep containers together. Ilya had to eat. He had to get enough in him to help with healing and he knew that was going to be hard. It’s why he’d found borsch and other soups that Ilya loved, he even started a pot of ramen since Ilya loved when Yuna made it. He just needed to stay busy. He needed to do all the things that he could think of in the house while Ilya was sleeping this soundly.
It also distracted him from the speech that he was mentally rehearsing- he’d agreed with Hayden and J.J. that appealing to the humanity of the team might not work. But he refused to laugh off his relationship. He refused to be anything other than serious about Ilya- serious enough that he had been willing to torch his career and the standing with his team to get to him. To be in the place that he was needed most. He knew more than half the locker room couldn’t understand this kind of love and if they ever did- they’d hate themselves for what they were currently doing.
He heard Ilya’s shuffling footsteps and looked over his shoulder. The brilliant bruise had spread from right around the injury into his shoulder and around his neck. Even with him healing well- it was a stark reminder of how deadly this game could be. He forced a smile as he wrapped Ilya up in a tight hug, Ilya sagging into him, letting him support him for once.
“Hi baby. Have the pain meds worn off?”
“Da. Everything hurts. Neck. Shoulder. Back. Entire fucking body.”
“I’ve got some ramen just about finished- let’s get that in you and then some more pain meds.”
“I don’t want meds. I want you.”
“Well- you’re going to get both tonight. You need the medicine so that you can get good rest. Just…let me…let me take of you Ilya.”
“Can I come Montreal tomorrow?”
He froze. He locked eyes with Ilya and saw the fury in them. He wanted Ilya with him. He wanted him so badly that it hurt, but he needed to be here. He needed to be here at least until the drains came out. So next week- early next week Ilya could come to Montreal and he…they…he took in a shaky breath as he tried to calm his mind. They would be able to be together. Together in a way that neither of them imagined for at least another decade.
“Once the drains are gone yeah…I…fuck…I’d love to have you with me.”
“Then is where I will be.”
He pressed a kiss to his temple and then another to his lips. Ilya settled into his side as he went back over to the ramen and he set his focus on completing this meal, then curling up next to Ilya tonight and holding him tight. Tomorrow would come. Tomorrow would likely still be hell for him- but he had Ilya. He had what he needed. And Montreal’s reaction to this would decide their fate for the next decade. He just hoped they realized how serious he was about having the life he had denied himself for so long.