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"Help!"
"What's wrong?" Rose asked, concern lacing her voice.
"I have a fashion emergency. I need your expert help."
"Oh, baby. Deep breath and start from the beginning. What's going on?"
Shane tried to calm his breathing and to keep the oncoming panic attack at bay.
"Ottawa Pride. We are going. The whole team. I have no idea what to wear."
Rose's shriek could probably be heard without the phone. "OMG, the whole team? Does Crowell know it yet?"
"Well, he will know it when he sees it. But the game plan is: what could he do? Bench the whole team? He wouldn't dare, not after last time."
"This is huge, Shane. I think it must be the first time an NHL team will attend Pride."
"Yeah, thank you, I actually needed some more pressure. What the hell should I wear? This is a historical event, and I have nothing suitable to wear."
"Deep breaths, baby. When is Ottawa Pride exactly? I will check if I can maybe swing it."
"We still have a couple of weeks. It's the 30th of August."
"Oh, yeah. I always forget Canadian Pride is special," Rose said with a laugh. "But that's good news; my shooting will wrap by then. I can swing by that bougie cottage of yours for a couple of days, and we can put together a killer outfit. Provided that husband of yours doesn't kill me first."
Shane let out a chuckle as he could feel himself relaxing slightly. "That would be amazing. But we will not be staying at the cottage that week, so just come to our place. I promise I will rein in the Russian Terminator."
"Don't you let him hear you calling him that. I will see what I can manage and get back to you. Don't panic. It will be awesome. You worked so hard and endured so much to get here. Enjoy it."
"Yeah, thank you. It's just a lot of pressure. They already call us the First Husbands of Hockey, and now we will be representing queer hockey or something."
"Well, statistically speaking, the Centaurs are the queerest team in all the NHL," Rose said with a laugh. "That reminds me. Is Scott coming?"
"Yeah, he will join us with a couple of Admirals. There might be other players joining too. I try not to think about what this means. It's too much."
"Deep breaths, Shane. It's a good thing. Now I really need to go, but I will see you soon. Try not to panic much!"
"Ha-ha," Shane said dryly. "I will try. And thank you."
"Take care, love."
Rose arrived the day before the Parade. She desperately wanted to come sooner, but couldn't get away from the shooting she was doing for some mysterious project she couldn't talk about.
By then, Shane was a complete mess. He was high-strung and jumpy, spending much of his time in their shared closet, trying to come up with something.
It didn't help that Ilya was already settled on an outfit - and ordered every accessory he could find.
Their house was like a pride sale bomb exploded inside. There were rainbows everywhere, streamers, garlands, and flags decorating every available space.
"Don't you think you might have gone a bit overboard with the decor?" Shane asked as Ilya was putting up yet another bisexual pride flag.
"Not at all. What is that saying? We are here, we are queer. We are most famous hockey husbands. We work hard for this; now I'm enjoying it. I bought you the super gay one too. We can match tomorrow."
"I already told you, I'm regular gay. But thank you, I guess."
Shane picked up the package Ilya mentioned and opened it. Inside was the one Shane had recently found out was called the gay man pride flag, with its greens, blues, and purples.
"Thank you. I'm not sure I want to take it with me tomorrow, though. It feels a bit too much."
Ilya jumped down from the ladder and picked up Shane's hand, pressing a kiss to his palm.
"You don't have to if it makes you uncomfortable. It's just so - how do you say, - freeing for me to be able to have all this. Spent so many years hiding who I was. Now I can have all the flags I want. Now I can hold my husband's hand and say a giant fuck you to every bigot in the world. You know, back in Russia, they kill you for being gay." He said quietly, looking out the window. "But I'm Canadian now, with my Canadian husband in my Canadian home. And I'm going to Canadian Pride. I am going to celebrate as hard as I can."
Shane smiled, kissing his husband softly. "I'm happy for you. I will try to be more enthusiastic."
Rose arrived soon after that, looking effortlessly fabulous as usual. Shane was so jealous of her ability to always look like she stepped off the runway.
"Shanebug! Happy Pride Eve! How are you feeling?"
"Slightly green. Help me," Shane nearly whimpered.
"Aww, baby. Let's see what we are working with."
Ilya looked up from the TV, giving Rose his best look of contempt. "Landry. You are here."
Rose just laughed, shaking her head a bit. "Seriously, Ilya? Still?"
Ilya shrugged and turned back to the TV with an annoyed huff. Shane leaned down to press a kiss to his curls. "Behave, dorogoy. We will be in our room if you need something."
"Keep the door open at all times!" Ilya said, his jaw tight as he stared ahead.
"Still gay!" Shane shouted back.
"Come on, let's see what we are working with."
Rose looked through the closet, pulling out stuff and then putting them back with a shake of her head.
"Yeah, mine are on the left side. I don't know what you are hoping to find; I told you it's hopeless."
"Don't you underestimate my powers. And I know which side is yours, obviously. Your husband has a very unique style. That being said, you might have to borrow something from him."
"I would look ridiculous. But I might not have any other choice."
"Next time you are in LA, I'm taking you shopping. Your fashion sense is a disgrace to gay men everywhere."
"I thought you came to help me, not insult my nonexistent fashion sense."
"Okay, what is Ilya wearing?" Rose was eyeing the right side of the closet.
"This one." Shane pulled out a white T-shirt with huge rainbow-colored lettering. On the front, it said 'I'm not GAY, but my husband is.' "He had it made, of course."
Rose chuckled appreciatively. "On point. Well, I think since he is going all flamboyant, you can stick with simple. Black undershirt, white shirt, fully unbuttoned. Accessorize with a long necklace. Those pants that really emphasize your assets. You can always put on some pins; I'm sure your friend Harris has some you can borrow. And I can paint some rainbows on your face."
Shane shrugged at the mention of face-paint. "No, thank you. Sensory nightmare. But the pins are a good idea, and Ilya got me a flag. You know the gay one. With the greens and blues."
"Then we have it. Let me see."
Rose shuffled around in the closet before finding the necessary pieces on Ilya's side. "Here, try these."
Shane looked at them like he was afraid the clothes might bite him. "If you say so."
He was hesitant, but when he finished dressing and checked himself in the mirror, he could barely recognize himself. "Oh, wow."
Rose looked satisfied with her work. "You can always lose the shirt, you know. Tie the flag around your shoulders like a gay superhero."
"Baby steps, Rose. But I actually don't hate this. Thank you."
"Go, show it to your man. He will love to see you in his clothes. Possessive bastard."
Shane pulled Rose into a tight hug. "Thank you so much. You saved my life."
Rose gave him a big kiss on the cheek. "Go, before he comes in and sees us together. There is a lake nearby; I don't want to end up in it."
"He is all bark, no bite. You are fine." Shane let her go, nevertheless. "Go, settle in the guest room. I put some fresh towels in the bathroom."
"You are a peach. Now go. I will make myself scarce."
Shane found Ilya in the kitchen. "Are you two quite finished?" He asked, not looking up from the carrots he was chopping.
"Yeah, I guess. What do you think?"
Ilya turned around, and it was obvious when he realized Shane was wearing his clothes. His eyes grew large, and his pupils dilated comically fast. "Fuck, Shane."
"You like? I had nothing suitable, so I borrowed some stuff. I hope you don't mind."
Shane played coy, like he didn't know exactly what he was doing to Ilya.
"You are going to make tomorrow really hard for me. In so many ways. Fuck, Shane, how do you expect me to keep my hands off of you when you are dressed like this?"
"That's the idea. You will not have to. It's Pride, moya lyubov'. And I'm proud to be yours. Your husband."
Ilya pulled him close in a kiss that was filled with promise. Dinner could wait.
Meanwhile in the guest room, Rose turned on the TV and turned the volume up with a grin.
"Predictable possessive bastard," she muttered under her breath.