Work Text:
“I’m just saying, dude, you can do better.”
Hayden’s tone was casual, and it was beginning to irritate Shane. He was always so casual when it pertained to this topic, and it made him feel sick to his stomach.
“Yeah, you always say that.”
“It’s true. You know I wouldn’t lie to you,” Hayden said, “I just want you to be happy.”
Shane scoffed. Unbelieving of the statement for a multitude of reasons. Shane had brought up many times—in the past—that he was happy. That he was in love with Ilya. He let him into their home to show it. They made dinner for him as a way to cement their domesticity. Shane wanted to share this with his friend. He wanted to show that he was in a committed relationship, and it was heading toward marriage. He wanted to admit they’d even considered having kids at some point. That the Pike children would have cousins. Hayden didn’t care. He made a fuss about everything, even the food. It shot a hot rod of shame through his veins. Hayden was so putt off by his relationship with Ilya, he’d lost his appetite. He couldn’t muster up a question that wasn’t loaded or jaded. Nothing in the past three years had changed.
Hayden’s face scrunched up in confusion, “what’s that response for?”
“I just don’t think that’s true, Hayden.”
“What do you mean?” Hayden sounded hesitant, but he continued, “do you think I want you to be miserable?”
Shane was going to be honest this time, “I think you don’t actually care what I think, let alone what I want.”
“What are you even saying right now?”
“I’m saying that I think you care more about how you feel,” Shane said, “all you ever do is make my relationship about how you feel.”
“Listen, it’s hard—”
Shane was confident he didn’t want to hear whatever this phony bullshit remark would entail because it would never be as hard for Hayden as it is for him, "it's hard? It’s been three years, and you still make these remarks despite how I ignore them every time you make them.”
“You don’t get it! Ilya is difficult," Hayden expressed exasperatedly, “you can’t just expect everyone to love him so easily.”
“I don’t get it? Me?” Shane was shaking over the tone deaf remark.
He was a gay, Asian, hockey player with little to no friends or support. His boyfriend is a bisexual Russian immigrant on a visa—in country that isn’t immigrant friendly—from a country that wasn’t queer friendly. They both had a lot going on in their private life, and that excluded the fact that his boyfriend had given up a lot to ensure they had a future together. They were risking everything being together, and the worst Hayden had to put up with was Ilya being mildly irritating.
“I’m gay, Hayden. I’ve spent over a decade in a complicated—closeted—relationship with him,” Shane was getting worked up, “and I haven’t kept it a secret because it’s so fun and easy. I’m well aware everyone has an issue with my boyfriend.”
Shane shook his head as the head rush hit him full force.
His thoughts were jumbled up in his brain, “they don’t know anything about him, so I don’t expect them to get it,” he said as his voice got quiet, “but you’re supposed to be my best friend. You’re supposed to make an effort to get it, or—at the very least—make it less obvious that you hate him.”
Shane went silent at that moment. His voice was close to cracking. It had been a long three years with Hayden. In the beginning, when it was fresh, Shane had a hope Hayden truly meant he would make an effort. He thought Hayden meant it when he said he trusted his judgment, but he lied.
“I mean, I have made efforts, but Ilya just doesn’t take me seriously! You don’t get how it feels to be chirped all the time,” Hayden spoke directly to the floor like a child being scolded.
“Oh you can’t be serious, Hayden. Ilya never passes on an opportunity to mess with people. You’re not an exception to that. The only people he doesn’t chirp are the people he hates. He riles me up all the time, and I’m his boyfriend.”
Shane watched Hayden’s face morph into one of disgust, and he was taken back to their game against Ilya when Hayden confessed it made him sick to think about his relationship. Admitting he couldn’t bring himself to refer to Ilya as Shane’s boyfriend. It broke his heart at the time, but he thought it would all get better eventually.
It never did.
“See, there you go. You don’t even need to say how you feel. I can always find it written on your face.”
Hayden groaned, “are you going to start policing my facial expressions now too? Christ, Shane.”
Shane shook his head—partly in disbelief—at Hayden’s complete disregard, “no, I’m not. You won’t have to worry about hearing from me at all.”
Hayden turned to him quickly, “what do you mean by that?”
“I mean consider me done,” Shane said immediately, “with you and with this team.” Shane sniffled, “I’m tired, Hayden. I want support. I want someone to appreciate and love Ilya like I do, and I want someone who will actually get to know him. You clearly can’t do that, and I won’t make you.”
Shane started picking at his nails. He didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. He wanted to go home to Ilya, and he wanted to lay in bed. He wanted to pretend like this wasn’t his life right now, and he had a friend who was going to swear he’d try and follow through on it. He never had that to begin with, and it hurt. He didn’t have time to waste on Hayden any longer, so he took a deep breath and finished up.
“It shouldn’t feel like pulling teeth, and I can’t ever talk to you about him either. I’m so lonely even when I’m around you. I listen to you talk about Jackie and the kids—all the time—you invade my hotel rooms to do it. You get to share all these family milestones and future plans. You give me basic life updates about your wife and kids like a normal person. I can’t do that without your complaints or nasty expressions. You treat my relationship like it’s the bane of your existence even though it’s the best part of mine. I want to be happy and in love, and I want to be loud and unapologetic about it. I can’t do that with you. I have to shrink myself, and it’s breaking me.”
Shane stood there—tears brimming in his eyes—taking in his now ex best friend, “take care of yourself, Pike. I won’t be back next season.”
He didn’t stick around for even a second longer. He needed to get home to his boyfriend.
Shane opened the door to Ilya’s room finding his sleeping figure.
He somehow managed to make it up here without Anya being alerted. Shane left his bags downstairs—feeling too tired to carry them up—and now he was washing up briefly. He’d take a shower with Ilya later on after a much needed nap. He stripped down to his boxers, climbing into bed, and cuddling into Ilya’s side. He took in the rich masculine smell, feeling reassured and comforted despite his stressful drive back home after ending a decade long friendship. All of that time, wasted. Shane resented Hayden for putting him in this position. They could’ve been friends if Hayden would’ve mustered up the decency to treat Ilya the way Ilya treated Jackie and his kids.
He focused on the feeling of Ilya’s chest rising and falling, and the sound of his breathing. All the time they spent apart, for what? He was in Montreal, wasting his time and life on a team who didn’t care. He could’ve been here, in Ottawa, sleeping next to Ilya every night. Feeling at home every night. Feeling the love and care Ilya had always prioritized pouring into him and their relationship. He could’ve been here—loving his boyfriend—instead of yearning for him far away.
“Hello, my beautiful freckles,” Ilya greeted him sleepily.
“Your eyes aren’t even open to see me,” Shane smirked.
“I do not need to see you to know you are beautiful freckles,” Ilya yawned, “I’ve stared at you every day for the past decade of my life.”
Shane wrapped his arm around his boyfriend tighter, snuggling further into him, and relaxing into the soft strokes from Ilya. This is a feeling nobody would ever understand. Hayden was asking him to give this up every time he pushed the idea of finding someone new for him. Shane would be chasing this high if Ilya and him ever ended. He only had two experiences with men outside of Ilya, and they never measured up to who he was laying with in bed.
“You think too loudly, solnyshko,” Ilya placed a soft kiss on Shane’s forehead, “what happened?”
Shane shook his head—feeling his physical exhaustion kick in—he didn’t want to think about it. It was a conversation for a later time. Preferably after they woke up. He tilted his head up and placed a kiss on Ilya’s lips.
“Don’t worry about it,” Shane said softly, “just know I chose you.”