Chapter Text
“Are you really not going to tell me who this guy is?”
Shane shot Rose a look from where he sat on his bed, hands shoved in his jean pockets and watching her dig through his closet. If he was a lesser man—and he still might be—he would start kicking and screaming over all the clothes she was throwing on the floor of his Montreal apartment.
Would Ilya like his actual apartment?
He’d bought an actual building for them to fuck in for the sake of their secret, but now… He wanted to watch Ilya come in through his actual front door and toe off his shoes at the designated shoe organizer and wiggle his socked toes. He wanted there to even be multiple pairs of his shoes alongside Shane’s. Ilya’s fancy sneakers—the ones he had mentioned Marly got him into when he first moved to Boston—next to the Reeboks Shane wore anytime he wasn’t in skates or his dress shoes.
He wanted to see Ilya pause and take in everything around him. The furniture was all simple but it was all designed for comfort. Would Ilya be comfortable here?
Shane wanted to give him a tour even though he’d never given him one at his Boston house before… well.
Would Ilya laugh at him when he saw the mountain of specifically chosen pillows on Shane’s bed? And right in the middle, nestled where his housekeeper always put him, was his stuffed otter from when he was a kid.
He hoped he laughed. Shane fucking loved Ilya’s laugh even if he didn’t get to hear it often.
But he’d only get to hear him laugh and tease him about his stuffed otter, Biscuit, if he could fix things between us.
“Shane? Hello? Shane!” Rose said as he came back to the moment, realizing she’d been snapping her fingers in front of his face. “The dick must be fantastic if you’re getting this distracted.”
“Sorry. Uh… Sorry,” Shane said, clearing his throat as he sat up a little more. “I wanna tell you, I do. But it’s—”
“It’s not your secret to share. I know.” She went back to the task at hand, tossing clothes into three different piles: Cleaning Rags, Donate, and Keep.
Shane would rather be waterboarded than for anyone to find out that his ex-girlfriend who had to tell him he was gay was teaching him how to dress himself.
“But, just so you know, I do have my suspicions,” Rose drawled as she pulled out yet another compression shirt. She’d at least relented on him keeping his athletic gear if the logos hadn’t worn off and there was no pilling or sagging or broken threads. This one apparently had a rather large hole in the armpit and she tossed it into the Cleaning Rags pile.
“How do you not notice gaping holes?” She’d asked the first time she found something similar.
“I’m always wearing it under something else and if I can’t feel it, it doesn’t bother me. I throw out my socks when they get holes in them though!” He insisted.
“Your ‘tism also makes you throw out socks if the seam is too stiff.”
“‘Tism? Like… Like autism? I’m not autistic.”
Rose had stared at him for a long moment, considering her words. It had felt like back in the restaurant when she’d been trying to find out how to tell her boyfriend that she was pretty sure he’d rather eat ass than kiss her. “Okay. We’ll table that for later.”
Shane’s leg bounced as he glanced out the window. “Who… Who are your suspicions?”
“Hmm… Are you sure you want me to tell you? I can tell when you’re lying. It’s a little cute how obvious it is, and it’s a wonder nobody else has noticed,” she said.
“I’m sure.” He needed to know, needed to make sure him and Ilya weren’t going to get caught before there was anything real to get caught for.
Rose sighed as she finished with his closet, moving to the dresser. “Rowan Finley.”
“Who?”
“Guess that answers that. He did the Jurassic Park tv show, always being papped at the Metros games.”
Brows furrowed, he tried to place a face to the name. “Is he the one with the red hair?”
“No.”
“Then I don’t know him.” His eyes went wide as he stared at her. “Wait—You think I have autism. Not all autistic people like dinosaurs!”
While Ilya’s laugh was still his absolute favorite, Rose’s was right up there with it. The way her head fell back and her eyes squeezed shut as she clapped her hands sent a wave of warmth through him, but it was more similar to the way his parents’ laughs made him feel than anything.
“Shane Hollander. This is why I think you’re the funniest person I’ve ever met,” she said. “I know you’re not into dinosaurs. Your special interest is hockey.”
“And dick.” He had a pleased little grin on his face as he wiggled into a more comfortable position.
“Oh my god!” Rose leaned back against the dresser with a wide grin, arms crossed over her chest. “Can I give you my other suspicions?” When he nodded, she continued, “Scott Hunter, because that fight was full of testosterone. And I swear there were several videos of him checking you out at, like, the All-Star Games.”
Wait, was that what people thought that fight was? A lovers’ quarrel? Fuck, he hoped not.
He shook his head, but his smile didn’t leave his face. Was this what having a true best friend was like? He loved Hayden and JJ, but having to keep such a major part of himself hidden made it a little difficult to feel as close to them.
If this was what having a real best friend felt like, he never wanted it to end. Maybe Rose would build her own cottage on the lake and they could hang out all the time and go hiking and gossip, and he could actually feel like he wasn’t suffocating under the weight of his Otherness.
If this was how Ilya felt with Svetlana, he hoped they stayed friends forever, too. Svetlana could have her own cottage on the other side of his and they could all hang out together.
And Ilya would stay in his cottage with him and it would become their cottage. A perfect ending where every day was a perfect day.
Except Ilya enjoys fucking Svetlana Vetrova, a voice inside his head interrupted. Seeing the two of you side by side? He’d pick her. She can be seen in public with him. She can go home to Russia with him.
He would have to figure out how to navigate that situation later.
“I could also see Hayden Pike if it didn’t involve him cheating on brilliant, wonderful Jackie. He’s also checked you out before,” Rose said, breaking him out of his head yet again. She was good at that. “And I think he’s a little too short for you. I think you deserve a man who can toss you around a bit and make your brain shut off.”
If only she knew.
She sat down on the plush carpet, looking up at him where he was still perched in the center of the bed. “JJ was also checking you out in a few locker room videos—”
“Rose, not everyone checks me out!” Shane groaned, covering his face.
“Okay, Mr. Voted Sexiest Hockey Player in the League for Four Consecutive Years.” She picked at the nail polish on her toe. “I can also see Ilya Rozanov being in the race.”
Shane went completely still.
He felt like… like a rabbit trying to be as still as possible, hoping the mountain lion didn’t spot it.
Her blue eyes flickered over his face, her mouth dropping open. “No. Seriously?! No! Shane!”
“What?! No! I— That’s— That’s crazy!” Shane insisted as he stood up, beginning to pace. “Why— Why would you even think that?!” His heart was fucking hammering against his rib cage as he gripped his hair. Fuck. Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. He knew better than to let her guess. What the hell was he thinking?
“Woah! Hey! Shane!” She said as she leapt to her feet, grabbing his shoulders and making him look at her. “It’s okay. You know I won’t tell anyone ever. Swear on my old Bratz doll collection.”
He laughed, letting his head fall forward until it rested on her shoulder. “Bratz dolls?”
“How do you think I learned to dress so well?” She asked, hugging him tightly, applying pressure everywhere she could to help suppress his nervous system.
It felt like a lifetime had passed when she pulled back, holding his face so he had to look her in the eye. “We’re going to finish going through your closet, and then we’re going to put on some old movie in the background, and you’re gonna tell me everything.” Her head tilted. “It must suck not having anyone to talk about this with.”
With glassy eyes, he sniffled. “It does. I can’t… I can’t even really talk to him, because he just… thinks I’m a good fuck. And now he definitely thinks I’m a dramatic, stupid, good fuck because I ran out on him for saying my first name! I mean—who does that?! And I did it after he cooked for me?”
“What did he cook for you?” Yes, Rose was comforting him, but she was also dying for any sort of crumb of this not-relationship.
“A tuna melt.”
She blinked, the corner of her mouth twitching. “A tuna melt?”
“Come on! They’re good!” Shane said as he fell back on his bed.
“If you say so, bub,” Rose laughed, patting his thigh. “Go on and get us some snacks. I’m gonna bag up the donations and the cleaning rags and put away the rest. Mentally prep yourself or whatever you need to do. Okay?”
“Okay.”
About thirty minutes later, Rose came down the stairs and grabbed a Diet Coke from the fridge. “What’d you decide for us to snack on?” She asked, freezing when she got to the couch. “Oh, it’s that kind of night, huh?”
On the coffee table in front of Shane was two rocks glasses with ice and a bottle of fancy Russian vodka that had a shot or two missing.
“Get started without me?” She asked as she sat on the other end of the sofa, pouring herself a shot of vodka and then pouring the Diet Coke over it.
His lips quirked into a smile. “He would hate that we’re drinking it like this.”
“You bought this for him? For Ilya?”
Shane nodded, choking on his words. “I… I wanted… Just in case he… he ever came here. I don’t know. It’s stupid. I should’ve left the vodka in the stupid sex building.”
“The sex building?!”
Shane had never laid out the whole story for anyone, but once he started, it was like he couldn’t stop. He went all the way back to when he’d first heard the name Ilya Rozanov, how he’d gotten home and booted up his family computer to look him up, how he’d watch tape of him every night and no, he hadn’t realized what it meant that he got a stupid boner every time, Rose, he just thought he was a teenager with the libido of a fucking nymphomaniac. That’s all. No big deal.
When he got to how Ilya had ignored him for six months right after he’d lost his virginity to him, the Sochi Olympics, and then the MLH awards, he could see her fighting her disgust for the Russian.
If Shane had learned anything over the past few weeks, it was that Rose was on his side no matter what. If he said the grass was pink to someone, she’d be right next to him saying “Absolutely it is” before asking what the fuck was wrong with his eyesight in private.
“He has a lot of stuff going on. I didn’t even… I’m so stupid I didn’t think about what it must be like in Russia—to be gay and to have a shitty dad?” Shane said as he finally took a sip of the watered down vodka, winced, and then took the half empty can of Diet Coke Rose offered to pour it into his own drink. “I’ve got my own shit with… with being Japanese-Canadian and gay and—according to you—possibly autistic. But at the end of the day, I know my parents love me no matter what. He…” He took another sip. “Ilya doesn’t have that. You should’ve heard how his father spoke to him at the draft. I didn’t understand a word but even I can hear a tone that mean. When I looked at his Wikipedia, it said his mom was dead. He has a brother and a niece but… He doesn’t talk about them. From the phone call I heard when I was at his house, I don’t think any of them get along very well.” He shrugged. “Or Russian always sounds angry. Or sexy.”
Rose finished her drink and set the glass down on the coffee table. “I think it might be big romantic gesture time.”
“What?! No! I can’t do that! I don’t even know if he likes me back!” Shane said as a fresh wave of anxiety washed over him.
“Shane, I’m going to say this so kindly,” she said as she took both of his hands. “By asking him to be with you, you’ll be inadvertently asking him to give up Russia for you. He won’t ever be able to go back to his home country.”
“Well, when you put it that way.” He sighed, squeezing her hands. “I think… I think if I’m going to do this, then I need to tell my parents I’m gay. Not just for me but for him. Having my parents support me… support us? I think…”
She smiled wide, eyes crinkling. “I think it’ll go a long, long way, Shanebug.”
“Ugh! I can’t believe my mom told you about that!” He groaned, lightly hitting her with a pillow.
Rose Landry was not one to back down from a fight. She’d grown up with all brothers, after all, and as much as she hated to lean into the stereotype of being tough because of them, in her case it was true.
They’d taught her to be tough, and she’d taught them to be feminists, damn it.
“Will you go with me to do it?” Shane asked once they’d settled down, suddenly standing up and looking for his shoes.
“What?! Now?!” She asked as she got up, following him to the front door and slipping on her own sneakers. “Shane! Your parents are in Ottawa. That’s a two hour drive!”
He was already grabbing his wallet and keys, his phone shoved into his pocket. “And it’s only eight or so. My mom’s a night owl.” He waved her out the front door, locking it behind her before they took the elevator down to the garage.
“Shane, you just decided to come out to your parents no less than ten minutes ago,” she reminded him. “And we’ve been drinking!”
“I had one shot. Even I can handle one shot,” he pointed out. “But if that’s seriously a concern, I will call us a cab.”
“No, it’s not,” Rose admitted as she stood outside the passenger door of his sensible Jeep. Brand new, by the looks of it. “But… I just want to make sure you want this. I expected you to come up with a ten year plan with Coming Out to Your Parents being, like… Step 8 of 25.”
Shane clutched onto the driver side door handle, his knuckles going white. “I… I am so, so tired of being afraid, Rose. My whole life, I’ve been afraid. Afraid of losing hockey, afraid of coming out. Afraid of people being able to look at me and see there’s something wrong with me.” He rested his head on the cool metal of the door, taking a deep breath. “Ilya makes me feel like there’s nothing wrong with me. Sure, he calls me boring, but when he says it… It feels like he’s telling me I’m wonderful.”
Rose wiped her eyes, nodding. “Let’s go tell your parents, Shane. I gotta say, when you do something, you do it one hundred percent full throttle.”
“And in thanks, I will allow you to order whatever clothes you think I would look good in. No limit. My card is in here,” he said as he tossed her his wallet before starting the car.
“Oh, dreams do come true. I feel like Elle Woods in ‘Take It Like a Man.’” She tossed his wallet right back into his lap. “And fuck off, I don’t need your money, remember?”
“Do I wanna know what that is? ‘Take It Like a Man?’” Shane asked as he backed out of his parking spot and started the two hour trek to his parents’ house.
Her eyes lit up. “I know you don’t listen to a lot of music.”
“Because most of it is about… abstract feelings or something! And I don’t like club music with the… oonce oonce or whatever.”
The streets of Montreal were quiet, even at eight at night, with a light dusting of snow coming down.
“I think I know what music you might like.” Rose was already connecting her phone to the Bluetooth system. “And since we’ve got two hours, that means we have all the time we need to listen to the Legally Blonde: the Musical soundtrack.”
A poppy upbeat synth track started playing, and even if Shane did end up hating it, he wouldn’t say a word if only for the absolute joy on her face.
“I think I like ‘So Much Better,’ ‘Take It Like a Man,’ and ‘Bend and Snap’ the best,” Shane said two hours later as they pulled into the driveway of his parents’ place. “With an honorable mention for ‘What You Want.’”
“Really? You didn’t love ‘Gay or European?’” Rose asked with a poorly hidden giggle, her hand covering her mouth.
“I think I’d like it more if it were ‘Bi and European.’” Shane had a pleased little smile on his face as they sat talking, not noticing the front porch light coming on.
Rose shoved him. “Oh, please! You loved it!”
“I did! It’s just not as good as Elle Woods telling Warner Huntington III she faked all those orgasms in the hot tub on spring break!”
They both jumped about a foot in the air when a knock came on the driver’s side window. His mom was standing there in the snow, looking at him like she was searching for mortal injury. “Shanebug? Is everything okay?”
Fuck. She only called him that when she was really worried.
“Hi, mom.” He opened up the door just a bit to let her step back, waving to David Hollander on the front porch. “Hi, dad. Can we come in?”
“I— Of course,” Yuna said, realizing neither one of them was wearing a coat.
Shane Hollander, notorious overthinker, over-planner, over-packer, had just jumped in the car without a coat.
“Let’s get you two inside and get you warm,” she said as Rose got out on the other side. She was looking at the two of them suspiciously, her eyes flickering down to Rose’s stomach.
“Hey, son,” David said, hugging his kid quickly and then Rose. “Lovely to see you again. Do you want anything to drink?” His eyes met his wife’s as she closed the door behind them and she shrugged.
“I’m alright, Mr. Hollander,” Rose said, following Shane to the couch.
David and Yuna followed, sitting on the other side of the sectional. “Please, how many times have I told you to call me David?” His eyes also flickered down to Rose’s stomach. “Is… Is everything okay?”
“I… I have something to tell you,” Shane said, wanting to power through. He felt like he had to come out swinging before his anxiety overwhelmed him again and he decided to once again never let anyone know his secret. He took a deep breath, clutching onto Rose’s hand. “I—”
“Is she pregnant?!” Her mom blurted out, her hand slapping over her mouth.
Rose and Shane looked at each other, rapidly shaking their heads. “What?! No! No!” Shane insisted, not letting go of Rose’s hand. “I’m gay!”
The entire living room went silent.
“Do I look pregnant?” Rose asked, breaking the tension.
“What?! No! I’m so sorry. I just… I assumed—” Yuna said, rambling as she shook her head. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I just… You’re holding hands and you drove here out of the blue…”
Rose shrugged, leaning against Shane, offering him support without making it obvious. “No, not pregnant. Just here supporting my best friend.”
David’s eyes were soft as he watched his son. “So you two… weren’t dating?”
“No, no. We were,” Shane huffed, gripping his hair. “Sorry.”
“I had to be the one to break it to him that he might not… enjoy the company of women, so to speak,” Rose said, squeezing his arm. “But we’re here because…” She nudged Shane, relaxing a little when he nodded. “Because Shane needs to win back the love of his life. And to do that, he needs his parents supporting him.” The look she gave them very clearly said that they’d better be fucking supportive or there’d be hell to pay.
That seemed to make David and Yuna leap into action. His mom moved to sit on the other side of him, taking his other hand, and his dad found himself on the ground in front of him, his hand on his son’s knee.
“Of course we support you. Shanebug, there is absolutely nothing in this world you could do that could make us love you less,” David said, squeezing him. “We just want you to be happy, whether that’s with Rose or… or hell, with Rozanov!”
Shane and Rose both went still, faces going pale.
In his brain, he knew that logically his dad had just thought of Rozanov because he was a man and his name was close to Rose’s in a way. But it didn’t help him to think that maybe him and Ilya had been less than subtle.
“Ilya,” he whispered, lifting his head to look at his dad and then his mom. “Ilya, dad. Mom, I… I love him. And I… I tired s-so h-hard not to.” Tears were silently rolling down his cheeks, eyes red already. “I tried so hard to not like… boys. I t-tried to like girls. Women, I mean. B-But I… I can’t.”
“Well, if you were gonna love any woman, there’s no one better than Rose Landry,” his mom joked, lightly nudging him. “But…”
“I’m sorry. I… I-I really, r-really tried to not be gay.”
“Oh, Shanebug,” Yuna choked out, wrapping her arms around him. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Nothing. Okay? I… I’m sorry. We’re sorry that you felt like you couldn’t come to us. We should’ve done better.”
David wiped his own eyes, and it was then that Rose could really see how much Shane took after his dad. Pretty criers, the both of them. “You’re our baby boy,” he said, voice thick. “We love you more than anything in the world. And we’re gonna love whoever you love.” He paused, glancing to Yuna. “Including Rozanov.”
“Ilya.”
“Right. Including Ilya,” David insisted, moving to kiss his son’s hair.
“Of course it’s Ilya,” Yuna said quietly, half to herself and half to Rose. “Only the best for our Shanebug. And that includes you. The best best friend in the whole world.”
Rose pursed her lips, not even bothering to hide her own tears. “We’re gonna get you your happy ending whether you like it or not!” She said to her best friend, hugging him and coddling him like he was a child and not a fully grown hockey player that was almost six feet tall.
“I think we should set up a couple mattresses in the den and put on a movie,” David said as he ruffled his son’s hair. “I’ll pop some of the blankets into the dryer.”
“I’m sorry… for, uh… for disrupting your night with this,” Shane said as his dad left the living room to head downstairs.
Yuna tsked quietly, squeezing him again. “You’re never disrupting us. You’re the greatest thing that’s ever happened to us, and that hasn’t changed.” She squeezed his chin, meeting his eyes. “But please don’t test that by committing a bunch of felonies, okay?”
“Okay,” Shane laughed, wiping the rest of his tears away.
“So what’s the plan?” Yuna asked as the four of them set up the air mattresses, putting fresh sheets on all of them and a whole horde of pillows. Old Scooby-Doo episodes were playing on the tv. “How are you going to get Roza— Ilya back?”
“He’s gonna show up to All-Stars looking like a motherfuckin’ snack,” Rose said with a grin as she flopped next to Shane, wearing a pair of his flannel pajama pants and a t-shirt from Juniors.
“Rose, come on… That’s not all,” Shane said, rubbing his socked feet together.
“So what else are you gonna do?”
“I… don’t know.”
David snorted a little, shaking his head in amusement. “I think maybe… maybe the real question we should be asking, Shane… is are you willing to leave the Metros for him?”
Shane didn’t even have to think. “Yes.”
Yuna looked like she’d been slapped. “What?! Shane! You can’t— You can’t just leave the Metros! They drafted you!”
“Mom, players leave the team that drafted them all the time,” he interrupted gently. “And like Rose pointed out to me… If I’m asking him to be with me, that means most likely never being able to go back to Russia. Maybe we’d be able to keep it under wraps for a little while, but I know Ilya. Being kept like some dirty little secret… eventually it’ll kill him.”
“Well… Okay,” Yuna said slowly, her brain clearly working a mile a minute. “With you fresh off a two-cup consecutive win… Farah mentioned that Roman Ivanov has been asking for a trade to Montreal. He’s a bit of a more aggressive player and there’s no space on the team for yet another center.”
Roman Ivanov? He would potentially be a fantastic trade. He was an excellent forward, but of course, when you have Ilya Rozanov on the team, you know who you’re going to put on your first line.
She looked at her son very seriously. “I know what Theriault and Desjardins think of gay people, let alone the GM.” She looked to Rose. “You should’ve heard the bullshit they were saying two years ago when… that football player came out, I wish I could remember his name. I can’t even begin to describe it.” Yuna seemed to be grappling with how exactly to say what she needed to say. “If you were to come out to the coaches, I have no doubt they would want to trade you. I just don’t want you to have to do that if you don’t want to, so let’s call it a last resort.”
“Wait, didn’t you record that conversation?” David asked, seeming surprised at the chance that she hadn’t while Shane seemed shocked at the chance that she had.
“What are you talking about? Of course I did. Farah taught me better than to ever be around management without recording. Especially if they’re drunk.” Yuna braided her hair loosely, stealing a hair tie off her husband’s wrist to secure it. “That’s what I was about to get to.”
“Sometimes your paranoia really pays off, baby,” David said, looking so proud of his wife as he pulled her face to kiss her sweetly. “Really sexy, if I’m honest.”
“Dad!” Shane exclaimed as Rose laughed behind him. He was pretending to be grossed out but in all honesty, being able to essentially have a big sleepover with his parents and his best friend while they wore mismatched pajamas and watched Scooby-Doo was like a fantasy come to life.
“What?” David asked innocently, kissing Yuna again as her cheeks flushed. “God forbid a man love his wife.”
Yuna hummed, a little dazed as she pulled away with fluttering lashes. “I’ll talk to Farah tomorrow about setting up a trade with Ivanov with Boston. Apparently he has family that lives near Montreal, and by freeing up his use of the cap space, you shouldn’t have to take a pay cut.”
Shane laid back with a sigh, staring up at the ceiling. There was a faint green stain where him and some of his friends from Juniors had been playing around with one of those sticky hands and it had gotten stuck up there for weeks before his dad finally noticed it and took it down. “Mom, I’d play for Boston for free if it means I get Ilya.”
David grinned as they all settled in, turning off the lights before climbing back in beside his wife. “Our son, the romantic,” he whispered to Yuna.
“He’d play for free,” she whispered right back, giggling.
“Mom! Dad! Goodnight!” Shane said with an embarrassed huff as Rose snorted next to him.
“Goodnight, David and Yuna,” Rose chimed in. “Tomorrow we conquer the world.”
“Tomorrow we conquer the universe,” David corrected.
“Goodnight,” Yuna said before they all settled in to sleep.
Shane stared up at that green splotch on the ceiling longer than he would like to admit. He had done it. He had come out to his parents and the world hadn’t ended.
Hell, he’d told his parents that he’s in love with Ilya Rozanov and he hadn’t imploded like he thought he would for so long.
Maybe he could have everything he dreamed of. Maybe he could conquer the universe.
“Goodnight, Ilya,” Shane murmured, his hand rubbing over his heart before he closed his eyes and finally forced himself to sleep.