Chapter Text
If only someone had told her a year ago that her son Shane Hollander, the Canadian golden boy, would go into business with his biggest rival to start a charity, Yuna would have laughed right in their face, undoubtedly seizing the opportunity to list all the reasons why Ilya Rozanov could never be a part of their lives. And yet now, that very same rival was standing just a few feet away from her, there as Shane’s business partner, dressed in a sharp suit and flashing a brilliant smile as he welcomed guests to the evening dedicated to the Irina Foundation.
It had been eight months since Shane had contacted her in her professional capacity as a manager to present his idea for the suicide prevention foundation. For Yuna, it had been a genuine surprise because — as noble as the cause was, and as noble as her son was — Shane had never shown any interest in that particular field. It wasn't uncommon for the League's most prominent players to launch charities, but in Shane's case, she would have expected something like anti-racism awareness or a safe space for queer people (not that he had ever confessed to her that he had anything to do with the topic, but she hadn’t needed him to).
The real shock, however, had come immediately after, when, alongside his idea for the Foundation, he had revealed that he had already spoken about it with Ilya Rozanov, recently named captain of the Ottawa Centaurs, and that they had already agreed to start the Foundation together.
Yuna’s biggest concern was that Rozanov’s less-than-flattering reputation would tarnish the perfect image Shane had built for himself in the hockey world, but given her son’s reluctance to reconsider, it hadn't taken Yuna long to turn that unlikely pairing into the Irina Foundation's greatest selling point: “the two bitter rivals put aside their differences for the greater good.”
In the months immediately following, she, Shane, Rozanov, and a handful of others had met regularly to bring the Irina Foundation to life. Over the course of those sessions, Yuna had a change of heart about Rozanov, who within a couple of months had become Ilya. The reason why he had decided to give up the glory of Boston for the humiliation of Ottawa was still a mystery, but as much as Yuna was intrigued by whatever could possibly have driven him to leave the team that had drafted him, she had quickly learned that asking about the details of Ilya’s private life was the fastest way to make him bolt. She had therefore limited herself to her role as the Foundation’s Project Manager, establishing a professional relationship with him: cautious and detached.
Shane, on the other hand, had shown an interest that was far too intimate and obvious toward Ilya. It had taken Yuna a bit to notice, but ever since she had, it became impossible not to see just how much Rozanov meant to him. Several times she had tried to push him into confessing something to her, but it had always achieved the opposite effect. Unable to tell him openly not to fool himself into falling for his straight friend, she had resorted to a new strategy, and that evening — finally — the perfect opportunity presented itself.
“Shane, honey.” She called out, walking over and interrupting his polite small talk. “May I introduce you to Mr. Williams? He’s the real estate agent who helped us find the land for the summer camp. I was just discussing the lease for the adjacent area with him, but enough work talk for today.” She smiled at both men, praying her subtle message would get through: you have so much in common, talk about your lives!
“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Hollander.” Williams introduced himself.
“Please, call me Shane.” They shook hands.
“Then I'm William.”
“William Williams?” Shane asked while the other laughed.
“My parents didn't put too much effort into choosing a name.”
He and Shane smiled at each other, and Yuna smiled with them.
“I'll leave you two alone.” She said. “I'll make the rounds and say hello to the others.” She added, making a vague gesture toward the crowded room.
She managed to take only a few steps before curiosity got the better of her and she turned back toward the two men. She walked over to the bar counter, exchanged a quick chat with some passing acquaintances, and kept watching Shane from a distance under the pretext of sipping a cocktail. Every now and then her gaze wandered across the rest of the venue, making eye contact with various friends to offer a nod of greeting, all so all in an effort not to make her true objective too obvious, but she realized a few minutes later that she hadn’t succeeded.
“I know what you are doing.” A voice with a heavy Russian accent said dangerously close to her ear.
Yuna jumped, put a hand to her chest, and then laughed.
“Ilya! I didn't see you there.”
The man beside her mirrored her posture, leaning his back against the bar to survey the entire room.
“Too absorbed in the scene?” he asked.
“I don't know what you mean.”
Rozanov chuckled as he took a sip of his vodka. He nodded toward Shane and William.
“Is that the gay real estate agent?”
Yuna frowned, irritated.
“He's our real estate agent, yes.”
“And he is gay.”
Yuna rolled her eyes. “Yes, he's out. What does it matter?” she asked defensively.
“It matters if he is talking to Shane, yes? Is that why you had that...” Ilya waved a finger in the direction of Yuna's face, though she didn't catch where he was going with it until he found the words: “...smug little smile.”
Her eyes went wide, and she quickly tried to fix her expression into something more neutral.
“Of course not.” She said immediately. “I'm just glad they can talk. Shane loves all that real estate stuff.”
“Yes I know.” Rozanov replied flatly.
Yuna still knew Ilya relatively recently and certainly still too superficially, but she was certain he wasn't homophobic. He had been among the most understanding with Hunter when he came out, and she knew that the Kingfisher, the gay bar the latter had bought, was a regular stop for Ilya whenever he happened to be in New York.
“They have a lot in common...” she ventured to say. The blond murmured an assent, though he looked displeased.
“Your plan won't work.” Ilya continued, this time more confident and amused.
“What plan?”
The Russian scoffed. “We skip the part where you pretend you don’t know, yes?"
Only then did Yuna decide to give her full attention to the player standing beside her. Reading Rozanov's emotions was impossible, but she tried anyway. Could it be that he knew about Shane’s sexuality?
“Why wouldn't it work?”
Ilya smiled. “I figured out what you are doing, Shane did not. And he never realizes when people are flirting with him.”
Yuna couldn't suppress her surprise, but she quickly brushed it aside. “How do you know that?”
The other took a sip of vodka before answering. “I've seen it. Several times, you know. Lots of people hit on him and he just doesn't get it.”
Yuna sighed. Ilya was right. She looked back toward her son and immediately smiled.
“Well, maybe this time it will be different. Look how much fun he's having! I think they're exchanging phone numbers.”
Shane was smiling excitedly. He was talking while gesturing with his hands and his eyes were bright. Williams had placed a hand on his arm and was holding out his own smartphone with the other. Yuna was only pulled away from the scene when a loud thud made her jump. Ilya had heavily slammed his empty glass down on the counter and was ordering another.
The woman darted her gaze from him to her son and William, and back again. She wondered if Rozanov's sudden bad mood could be connected to them in some way. Maybe Ilya was feeling lonely.
“Do you have someone special, Ilya?”
The blond turned his back to the room and began staring intently at his new glass of vodka. He rolled it between his fingers for a while, gaze lowered and lips pressed tight, until he said:
“No, no one.”
“I remember it used to be easy to read about you and some gorgeous model, a while back. Did you leave someone important behind in Boston?”
He took a large swallow of vodka and shook his head. When the silence stretched on a second too long, he turned his head and smiled at her.
“Will you find a pretty real estate agent for me, too?” he joked.
“I wouldn’t look for a real estate agent for you.” She said honestly. “I’d think of some celebrity, or a woman involved in high-adrenaline activities."
Rozanov laughed.
“I’m sure you could find someone.” And indeed, in Yuna’s mind, a plan had already begun to form automatically for making it happen, until: “Don't do it, though.” Ilya told her.
Yuna frowned. “You don't want me to find you someone?”
The blond turned back toward Shane and Williams.
“I don't need an adrenaline junkie. That was before, maybe. Now I need someone boring.” A sweet, affectionate smile bloomed on his lips. “Someone organized who will keep me on the couch watching movies under a blanket, not dragging me out to clubs.”
“Ilya Rozanov!” Yuna exclaimed. “Have you become a homebody? I never would have guessed.”
“I'm Canadian now, yes? Isn't that what Canadians do? All I'm missing is the passport.”
They both laughed as they looked back at Shane. The latter must have noticed their gaze on him, because he looked back, blushed, gave them a little wave, and went back to talking with Williams.
Yuna turned to Ilya and studied the way he was still staring at Shane. If she hadn't been entirely certain of his heterosexuality, she would have suspected Rozanov was in love with her son. His eyes practically were heart shaped.
Someone boring, organized, and who keeps him on the couch watching a movie together. Her precious Shane had such a shamelessly obvious crush on Ilya. The Russian managed to bring out his wildest side, while her son perfectly embodied the traits Rozanov had just listed. Together they would be perfect, but Yuna quickly forced herself to chase that thought away. It could never happen.
She looked back at the couple she hoped she'd created, but the two were just then shaking hands in farewell.
“Did have fun with mister real estate?” Ilya asked immediately, as soon as Shane was within earshot.
“Yes, it was really interesting! There are several properties for sale in Ottawa I'd love to check out.”
Ilya laughed heartily while Yuna frowned.
“Did you guys talk only about properties for sale?”
Shane frowned just as she did.
“What else were we supposed to talk about?” He looked first at her, then at Rozanov, trying to figure out what he had missed.
It was Ilya who moved first. He shook his head, then draped an arm around Shane’s shoulders.
“Come on, Hollander, Hayes wanted to say hello.”
“No, wait!” Yuna tried to call them back, but it was too late. Ilya had already trapped her son in a conversation full of taken, straight people.
She let out a heavy sigh. Next time, she promised herself. Next time she would find her son a date, and Ilya Rozanov would have absolutely nothing he could do to stop her.