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December 2008, Regina
It was fucking freezing. Ilya huddled against the wall of the building housing the practice rink in a vain attempt to get a bit of shelter while he tried to light a cigarette. He clicked his lighter and nothing happened. Cheap piece of shit. He tried shaking up the fluid. Still nothing.
Turning, he nearly jumped out of his skin. The young man he had identified as Shane Hollander was standing beside him, clearly trying to get his attention.
"Sorry," Hollander said. He was blushing, highlighting the freckles splashed across he cheeks. "I didn't mean to surprise you. I'm Shane Hollander. I wanted to meet you properly."
It took Ilya a moment to parse that amount of English. "Izvini," he replied eventually, his heart still going bananas. "I … not hear good."
"Oh," Hollander responded. "Shit, sorry."
Ilya shrugged. "Is okay."
"You're an awesome player to watch," Hollander went on.
"Yes," Ilya said. It was the truth. He knew he was good.
He tried again to get the lighter to work. This time, it sparked. He lit the cigarette and took a deep drag.
"I don't think you're meant to smoke here," Hollander protested, scrunching his nose in disgust.
"Okay." Ilya shrugged again. There was no fucking way he was moving away from the shelter of the building.
Hollander chuckled. "Oh well. It was good to meet you."
He held out his hand for Ilya to shake. With a small smile at the absurd politeness of the gesture, Ilya took it and shook.
"Good luck in the tournament," Hollander said before turning to go.
"You will not be so nice when we beat you," Ilya said. He was conscious of how thick his accent sounded.
Hollander turned back briefly. "That's not happening."
Alone again, Ilya smiled to himself. This was going to be interesting. He finished his cigarette before heading back inside to get changed for practice.
Ilya loved playing. It was one of very few places where he didn't have to worry about being able to hear. Everything was so loud on the rink that he could hear clearly without having to look.
He noticed that Hollander was up in the stands, watching. Hollander was flanked by a man and woman, presumably his parents. Ilya could see that Hollander was signing when he spoke to his father. That was very interesting.
When practice was over, Ilya went up to the stands to watch the US team. Hollander was still there, but his parents had gone. Ilya approached him.
"Can I sit?" Ilya asked.
Hollander gave him a small smile. "Sure."
Ilya sat in silence for a moment, arranging what he wanted to say. "You sign for your dad?"
Hollander nodded, looking surprised. "Yeah. He's Deaf, so."
"Ah. My mama was Deaf also. I used to sign with her."
"You're not Deaf though, right?"
Ilya shook his head. "No, not completely."
"Do you use hearing aids or anything?"
"Ah no. My papa says is lazy. I can hear, so should try harder."
Hollander grimaced. "That sucks. I'm sorry."
"I will maybe buy myself when I get drafted."
Hollander chuckled. "Yeah, you should."
They lapsed into silence for a few minutes. Ilya could feel Mama's voice at the back of his mind.
"Mama would say be friends, I think," he offered eventually.
Hollander (should Ilya call him Shane?) cracked a wider smile. "Yeah? You want that?"
"Yes," Ilya replied. "Do you?"
Shane bit his lip, then nodded. "Yeah. That would be good."
Ilya smiled. "Good."
"What do you think of the US team?" Shane asked.
Ilya pulled a face. "Shit. Defence is bad."
Shane laughed. It made Ilya's stomach feel funny. "Yeah, you're right. It'll be our teams in the final."
Ilya nodded. "I think so, yes."
Shane's eyes darted off to the side. "My parents are coming back."
"How I sign hello?" Ilya asked.
"Oh. Um … it's like waving."
"Ah. Is same."
Shane's parents approached where they were sitting.
"Conspiring with the enemy, Shane?" his mom asked.
Shane blushed, ducking his head. "Mom," he protested.
It made Ilya happy to see that they were both signing all the time they spoke, for Shane's dad's benefit. It was something that had never happened in Ilya's home. He wasn't sure Papa had ever learned any signs for Mama. She had just been expected to exhaust herself by lip reading all the time. And of course there was no hope of Ilya getting any help from Papa or Alexei. He wasn't Deaf, just spoiled by Mama and lazy.
"I was joking," Shane's mom said. "Hello, Rozanov."
"Hello," Ilya replied. He waved his hand, earning a smile from Shane's dad and a look of surprise from his mom.
"Ilya's mother was Deaf," Shane explained.
"Da," Ilya confirmed. "Yes. And I don't hear good."
"Do you have any family here with you?" Shane's mom asked.
"No," Ilya said, shaking his head. "My Papa is busy always. My brother too."
"Hm." She pursed her lips. "You're welcome to join us for dinner tonight."
"I'd like that," Ilya replied.
When Ilya was back in his hotel room, he pulled out his laptop. He wanted to find out what his sign name was in ASL. Mama had always used the sign for 'gift' for him. He went to Google and found a video. The sign was done by forming two fists with the index fingers held out, forming claws, and miming giving away an object. He practiced it a few times until he was happy.
Out of curiosity, he then looked up how to sign the name he had used for Mama. There were two versions, but the one he liked best was tracing a heart shape on his chest with his middle fingers.
Blinking away the mistiness that had formed in his eyes, he went to have a shower. Because the hotel was decent, it was a reasonably good shower. He stood directly under the stream for a while, letting it soak his hair and pour over his face and into his ears. It was a strangely pleasant sensation, hearing the soft roar of the water.
He was due to meet the Hollanders at 7pm. Once he was clean and dry, he pulled on his smartest jeans, pairing them with a Cher t-shirt he'd stolen from Svetlana and a black hoodie. He appraised himself in the full length mirror, scrunching his hair so it wouldn't dry flat. Yes, that would do. He shoved his passport and wallet into his pocket and left the room.
Shane was already waiting in the lobby when Ilya arrived downstairs. He smiled and beckoned Ilya over.
"Your parents aren't here yet?" Ilya asked.
"They'll be down soon," Shane replied. "This should be nice."
Ilya nodded. "Can I tell you something?"
"Of course."
Ilya bit his lip, nerves roiling in his gut. He wasn't usually this vulnerable, but he knew Shane would understand. "I looked up my sign name in ASL. Is name my mama used for me, but I don't get to use much now."
Shane smiled sadly. "Will you show me?"
Ilya swallowed around the lump in his throat. He did the sign. "Is like gift," he explained.
Shane nodded. "That's beautiful. Do you want to see mine?"
Not trusting himself to speak for the moment, Ilya nodded. Shane raised his right hand and wriggled his forefinger in imitation of a worm.
"Apparently I was a very wriggly baby," he explained.
They both laughed, so hard it hurt Ilya's lungs. He hadn't expected Shane to be like this, kind and funny even though he was obviously shy. He supposed it must be that shyness which made people think Shane was unsociable. And maybe Shane was only comfortable in small groups like this. Ilya could understand that. It was hard to keep track of what was going on when lots of people were talking over each other.
"You're not what I expect," Ilya said when he'd stopped laughing. "Is good."
Shane blushed a little. "You're not what I expected either."
By the time he fell into bed that night, Ilya's head was in a whirl. Shane's parents, David and Yuna, had been really kind to him. He had learned lots of ASL, which he would make sure to practice when he got home. It made him more excited to move somewhere over here after he was drafted.
Lying on his back, he thought of Mama. She would be happy, he thought, to know he'd found friends who signed. Picking up the teddy bear she had given him from the nightstand, he did something he hadn't done for five years. He pointed to his own chest, touched the bear's nose, brushed his fingertips over his lips, then laid them over his heart. я тебя люблю.
Holding the bear close to his chest, he rolled to his side for sleep.
January 2009, Moscow
In the sanctuary of his bedroom, Ilya was doing an ASL lesson online. Some of the signs that had come up were ones he had learned with Shane's family, but others were completely new. He wasn't sure how much was really going in, but he would be able to practice properly in a few months. He couldn't wait.
The first indication he had that he was about to be disturbed was the sound of heavy footsteps approaching his door. It must be Papa. Alexei was too much of a bastard to give Ilya any clue. He turned to face the door.
"You've been up here for hours," Papa complained. "What the fuck are you doing?"
Ilya steeled himself for an argument. "I'm learning ASL, Papa. It's the sign language they use in America."
Papa snorted derisively. "You don't need that. Using sign language makes you lazy. You're not Deaf, Ilya. You just need to try harder."
Ilya sighed. He had been hearing this all his life. Papa refused to try to understand how difficult it was for him. What Papa thought wouldn't matter for much longer, anyway.
"I always try hard," Ilya replied wearily. "I can't help it. Why can't I do something that makes my life easier?"
For a horrible second, Ilya thought Papa was going to hit him. That hadn't happened for about two years, since Ilya had grown taller than Papa and started to build muscle.
"Aren't you ashamed to be so weak?" Papa sneered instead.
Ilya looked Papa in the eye, hating him. "No," he said simply.
Papa shook his head, impotent fury burning in his eyes. "Your mother spoiled you. When you go into the real world, you will see that this isn't good enough."
When Papa had gone, Ilya released a shaky breath. He wondered whether it would ever be less terrifying to stand up to his father.
June 2009, Los Angeles
Ilya had known draft day was going to be big, but this was chaos. He was happy, though. He had been first pick, and Shane had been second. It wasn't just that he was pleased to have beaten his friend, although that was certainly part of it. He didn't have as encyclopedic a knowledge of the NHL as Shane, but he knew that the Boston Raiders were a good team. He hoped Boston would be a good city to live in.
Papa seemed pleased, to the extent that he would be able to talk about Ilya's success with his friends. And, of course, he would have 'his share' of the money Ilya made.
Ilya felt strangely lonely in the crowd. Shane was celebrating with his proud parents, while Ilya only had Papa. The general noise made it hard to concentrate on anything. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see the GM of the Raiders, Russell Brown.
"Welcome to the team, Ilya," Brown said warmly. "We're thrilled to have you."
"Thank you," Ilya replied. He could feel Papa glaring at him, and realised that he had accompanied the spoken word with its sign. "Ah, sorry. I have problems with hearing."
"No need to worry," Brown responded. "Does it help if I look at you when I speak?"
Ilya nodded. "Yes. Thank you. Um … I am excited to play for you."
"That's great. And if we can help you with anything, please let us know. We're happy to make changes or find ways to support you."
Disapproval came off of Papa in waves. "He will need discipline. He can be, how you say, lazy."
The word slipped between Ilya's ribs like a knife. It had been following him around all his life. You're not Deaf, Ilya, you're just being lazy. You could do it if you tried harder.
"That doesn't tally with anything we've seen, Mr Rozanov," Brown countered.
"I promise to work very hard for you," Ilya said, feeling like he was forcing the words out as his lungs were crushed.
"I'm sure you will, son."
"You listen, don't speak," Papa said harshly. "You understand?"
"Yes, sir," Ilya muttered.
Letting his eyes wander, he found Shane on the lower floor. Shane looked up and their gazes locked. Ilya saw the pressure he was feeling reflected back at him.
It was only later that they got to speak to each other. Ilya found Shane grabbing a quiet moment out on the balcony.
"Is a lot, huh?" Ilya asked as he joined Shane at the rail.
Shane huffed a laugh and turned to face Ilya. "Yeah, just a bit. You okay?"
"I think so," Ilya replied. "My GM is nice. Wants to help me. My papa is … difficult. What about you?"
"That's good," Shane said with a smile. "My GM seems nice too. He was talking to Mom about diversity and stuff. I think we all find that pretty tiring."
"Hm. Yes, makes sense. You must all get this lots."
Shane nodded. "Yeah, all the time. What was your father difficult about?"
"He doesn't like me signing. Says I am lazy. And he doesn't like GM offering to help me. He thinks I'm weak."
Shane surprised Ilya by pulling him into a tight hug. Ilya relaxed into it, sighing a little.
"You're not weak, Ilya," Shane said. "You're one of the strongest people I know."
Ilya sniffed, tears stinging his eyes. "Thank you, Shane," he murmured back.
September 2009, Boston
Training camp had gotten off to a good start and Ilya felt he was beginning to get used to life in Boston. He liked his apartment and the neighbourhood it was in had been friendly so far. The other rookies and call-ups he was in training with were alright too. The Raiders favoured strong, aggressive players. Ilya found he was fitting in very well.
He had been called in to speak to the coaches and a person from HR once training was over for the day. He sat in the corner of the office, fiddling with the hem of his hoodie, whilst the others took their seats around him.
"So, Ilya, are you settling in well?" the HR lady, Jenny, asked.
"Yes," he replied. "I'm enjoying training ."
"That's good." She smiled. "We want to have a chat to work out how we can support you best. Can you tell us a bit about your problems?"
"Um … I can't always hear if sounds are too quiet. I'm okay when I play because it's always loud. But is difficult for me to hear if many people speak at once."
"I see. Do you think hearing aids would help?"
He nodded. "Probably, yes. I used to sign with my mama. I practiced ASL before I came here."
"Okay." She scribbled down some notes. "We can definitely help with getting hearing aids. Maybe we could have some ASL lessons so we all know some basic signs."
Coach Le Claire nodded. "I'd be up for that. Bet the boys would be too."
"Lovely," Jenny said with a bright smile. "I'll see what I can do."
Three weeks later
Ilya stood on his balcony and breathed in deeply. He had seen the audiologist the team office had found for him that morning to have his new hearing aids fitted that morning. It felt like the whole world was clear for the first time. Even after a day, the novelty hadn't worn off. He took his phone out of his pocket and texted Shane.
Ilya: Got my hearing aids this morning!
Shane: Woah! That's brilliant! What's it like?
Ilya: Amazing! Everything is clearer.
Shane: I'm so happy for you! Going to give you the biggest hug when I see you next.
Ilya: Can't wait!
He grinned to himself. He really couldn't wait to see Shane again and have that hug.
July 2010, Toronto
Shane was already in the showers by the time Ilya finished his part of the shooting for the commercial. He joined his friend, purposefully leaving an empty space between them.
As he started to wash himself off, his eyes kept being drawn to Shane. He knew that Shane was gorgeous - his eyes were perfectly functional. And he knew that Shane had built muscle in a different way to him. But fuck. Shane was … perfect. Totally fucking perfect. His thighs were incredible, surely strong enough to crush Ilya's head. The smooth curve of his ass led up to back dimples which made Ilya feel like he was losing his mind. And the freckles. Shane had freckles everywhere. Ilya wanted to kiss every single one.
He stole another glance and - shit - Shane was looking at him. More specifically, Shane was looking at his ass. Was Shane checking him out too? They looked at each other for a long moment, openly appreciative gazes. Then Shane flicked his eyes away with a little shake of his head. What did that mean? Was it a flat no? Was it 'not here'?
Shane left the shower and Ilya was in agony. He tried to take his time, to appear nonchalant. It didn't work. By the time he emerged with a towel wrapped around his waist, Shane was sitting on the bench, putting on his shoes. Ilya fought to stay calm, opening his locker and carefully putting his hearing aids back in before looking at Shane. Shane was looking back up at him, nerves clear in his eyes.
"1410," Shane said, obviously having come to some decision. "That's my room number."
Ilya swallowed thickly. "Okay. Will you be there at 9 o'clock?"
Shane smiled, suppressing a laugh. "That depends how long my dinner date takes."
Ilya's hands trembled as he reached out to knock on Shane's door. It was scary how much he wanted this. He hadn't been with another man since Sasha back in Russia. This wasn't like that. Yes, it was dangerous, and that was fun, but he knew already that his feelings for Shane ran much deeper than a friend he wanted to fool around with.
Shane opened the door and Ilya stepped inside. They were both still in the clothes they had worn for dinner with Shane's parents. For a moment, they just looked at each other.
"So … um … what do you want to do?" Shane asked.
Ilya decided to be direct. He had realised this was usually the best way to be with Shane. "I want to kiss you," he said, his voice soft. "Is okay?"
Shane bit his lip, then nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that."
Slowly and carefully, Ilya stepped close to Shane and kissed him gently. When he pulled back, Shane chased his lips. Smiling, he kissed Shane again. They kissed and kissed and kissed. Ilya's head was whirling. It felt so good. He became aware of Shane's hands, moving underneath his t-shirt. Pulling away, he removed both sweatshirt and t-shirt while Shane did the same.
"Shane," Ilya murmured, brushing a kiss to Shane's jaw. "You're beautiful."
Shane blushed. "Not like you," he murmured back. "You're so hot, Ilya."
"Mm," Ilya hummed. "You can touch all you like, moy dorogoy."
As they kissed again, their hands roamed. Shane was so curious and so gentle it made Ilya feel like crying. And when Shane's hands dipped lower, into Ilya's waistband, Ilya was lost.
They laid together afterwards, cuddling and kissing and chatting. Ilya felt happier than he had for a long time. He skimmed a hand along Shane's spine, knowing he was touching freckles. He would kiss the clusters that decorated Shane's back another time.
"Ilya?"
"Hm?"
"I feel so good."
Ilya huffed a laugh and pressed a kiss to the top of Shane's head. "Me too, lyubimyy."
Shane's fingers found Ilya's happy trail, gently caressing the skin and seemingly enthralled by how hairy Ilya's stomach was compared with his own. Ilya knew that he was attractive. But no-one he had ever hooked up with had made him feel as special as Shane did. He wanted to hold onto this for as long as possible and fuck the consequences.
October 2011, Montreal
With Shane lying in his arms, Ilya felt so happy he thought his heart might burst with it. They were in Shane's apartment, in his bed, and they had fucked for the first time. Shane had made the most beautiful sounds and leaned into everything so deliciously. Now, he was snuggled against Ilya's chest, warm and peaceful and completely wonderful.
"I love you," Ilya murmured into Shane's hair.
Shane shifted, raising his head. "I love you too," he murmured back.
Smiling, Ilya leaned in for a kiss. It was soft and sweet. It was everything.
"Can I show you something?" Ilya asked.
"Of course," Shane replied.
Ilya wet his lips with his tongue. This was important. He pointed to his chest. "Ya." He touched the tip of Shane's nose. "Tebya." He brushed his lips with his fingertips, then placed his hand over his heart. "Lyublyu."
Shane's eyes were wet with un-shed tears when he smiled. "I love you so much," he said. "Thank you for sharing that with me."
"Is only for people I really love," Ilya said softly. "Only Mama and you."
Shane huffed a laugh. "Wow." He was quiet for a moment. "I would've loved to meet her."
Tears stung Ilya's eyes. "She would have loved you."
15 years later, Ottawa
"Are you okay, baby?" Shane asked gently, his fingertips brushing Ilya's arm.
Ilya realised then that they had arrived, but he hadn't made any move to get out of the car. "I'm fine," he responded automatically. Then he swallowed thickly. He had promised to share everything with Shane, good and bad. "I'm … terrified. What if … I'm like him?"
"Ilya, look at me," Shane said firmly. Ilya raised his eyes to Shane's face. "You are nothing like your father. You're going to be the best papa to our little girl because you're going to love her so much. I know this because I've already seen you do. She's had your heart since we first met her. Okay?"
Ilya sniffed. "Okay. Thank you, moya Shanya."
Shane gave Ilya's hand a squeeze, then they got out of the car. Hand in hand, they entered the adoption centre.
"Good morning," their social worker, Ellery, greeted them in reception. "Alice is in the playroom. I just need you to sign a couple more things, then you're good to go."
They followed her to her office and sat facing her across the desk. Ilya's hands felt clammy, but Shane didn't pull away.
"So" she said as she slid some forms across to them, "you're all set up at home now?"
"Yes," Shane confirmed. "Her bedroom's ready."
"I don't mind telling you, we were very glad when you came along," she confessed. "It's so hard getting children with additional needs into good homes."
Ilya smiled. They had known as soon as they met Alice that they wanted to adopt her. She had a similar form of sensorineural hearing loss to him, and he wanted her to have a better life than he'd had with his father.
They signed the forms, then Ellery took them along to the playroom. Alice turned at the sound of the door and broke into a broad smile.
"Papa," she cried, leaping up and hurrying over. "Daddy. Are we going home?"
"Yes we are, moya printsessa," Ilya replied, hoisting her up into his arms. "Do you want to do the special sign?"
"Yeah," she said. "With Daddy too."
Ilya kissed her forehead. "Okay. Us first."
They both pointed to their own chests, touched each other's noses, then brushed their fingertips to their lips and placed them on their hearts. He smiled to himself as she repeated the gesture with Shane. It felt completely right to be starting his own family like this.