Work Text:
1.
“Fuck you, Rozanov,” someone mutters as they skate past him. Ilya immediately grins and waves them enthusiastically goodbye. No matter which team he plays for, New York still absolutely despises him. “Is great to meet a fan!” He yells at the slowly disappearing figure. Next to him stands Yuna - trying her hardest not to start laughing. She pokes his side with her elbow and then loses it when their eyes meet. Ilya has to grab her elbow and steady her, then doubles over from laughing himself and quickly adjusts his stance to stay upright.
They had flown to New York for Ilya’s first ever Vogue cover shoot. Yuna had come with under the guise of being an expert at promotional contracts and making sure everything was in order. The real reason, however, had been that she fussed just as much over Ilya as she did over Shane. So when the shoot was over and he still looked a bit unsure, she had asked Ilya if he’d like to go to the outdoor rink in Central Park. It was freezing outside, three days before Christmas and packed full. He had immediately agreed.
“I’ll go get some hot chocolate, okay?” Yuna tells him. She’s already skating away before he can even open his mouth. “With everything on top of it, I know! Back in a minute.” Ilya smiles and raises two thumbs up when she looks back at him. He smoothly makes his way over to the boards on the side, not wanting to get in anyone’s way. So far he has been recognised quite a few times - although mostly through annoyed heckles and narrowed eyes. Which isn’t all that surprising given the exact place he is at right now. Still, a small rush of pride and adrenaline goes through him no matter what kind of interaction.
He spots Yuna carrying two cups and waves at her. She easily dodges a few people that more so wobble their way over the ice than glide, already sticking one of the cups out for him to take. In the corner of his eyes Ilya sees something speeding towards them. Just as he turns his head to find out what’s happening, a large figure slams into Yuna. Ilya grabs the man halfway through the fall and pushes him to the other side before his weight has a chance to crush her.
“Are you okay? Is your head okay?” He frantically asks her as he drops down next to her. The stranger right of him, now sitting upright again, stutters out an apology. Not even listening to the words Ilya stares at him with a furious expression. “What is wrong with you? Is fucking public rink, idiot. If you are shit then be shit at slow speed!” There are people forming a circle around them and yelling over each other. His hoarse voice cuts through all of them. “Where the fuck is medic? Move! Go!”
Yuna takes his hand and squeezes it. “Breathe, honey, calm down. I’m okay. My head didn’t even touch the ice,” she tells him with a steady voice. It’s the same voice Shane uses when he’s hurt but doesn’t want to worry anyone. It makes Ilya’s heart clench. “It was an accident. Can you help me up? I think I can stand.”
Slowly he helps her to her feet. When she tries to put weight on her left leg, a hurt recoil goes through her body. Ilya ignores her protests and carefully picks her up. “Sorry, sorry,” he keeps mumbling whilst carrying her to the medical team standing near the exit. He tries to tune out Yuna’s muffled pained noises and get her to them as fast as he can. Normally he would wait for them, knowing they would waste no time in pushing the stretcher their way, but he refuses. The people surrounding them are filming Yuna in such unashamed fashion it nauseates Ilya. Even though she gracefully accepts the candid shots that come with having two famous sons, he won’t allow anyone to take advantage of that.
Not even five minutes later they’re in an ambulance to the nearest hospital. Yuna is talking to one of the paramedics in a hushed voice, soft but clear. Ilya isn’t paying attention and stares at the heart monitor instead. The conversation exchanges a lot of words he isn’t familiar with and he doesn’t have the focus for to figure out. He thinks about calling Shane or David, letting them know what happened, but decides against it for now. Worrying them without being able to answer questions regarding Yuna’s injury would be unfair. She seems relatively fine as well - the paramedics already confirmed there is no sign of a head injury whatsoever.
At the hospital Ilya gets sent to the waiting room with paperwork to fill out. He is able to answer every question, he knows Yuna’s phone passcode to access her medical information, but has to concentrate on writing down the letters. Even after years of practice an entirely different alphabet still requires thinking. By the time he has handed in the form and scrolled through every social media app on his phone, the receptionist calls out his name.
“Mr. Rozanov?” She asks out loud, causing a few people to turn their heads. Ilya pushes himself out of the chair and walks over. “Mrs. Hollander is in room 2263. You can take the elevator to the second floor, from there on it’s a left and then you should be able to follow the signs.” He thanks her with a smile and a nod, quickly walking away.
The room is easy to find. For a second Ilya pauses, then he opens the door and steps inside. Yuna is sitting on the hospital bed with her leg wrapped in a cast. Besides her lifted leg, there are no obvious signs indicating anything even happened. They barely look at each other before wheezing laughter echoes throughout the room. A cough from outside startles Ilya, getting him to slam the door shut and laugh even harder. “Ilya, shut up,” Yuna hisses in an attempt to cover up her own laughter and fails miserably. “Why are you even laughing?”
“I was nervous! I thought maybe they decided your leg could not be saved or something, I don’t know.” Hearing himself say it, Ilya smiles sheepishly. He ignores the giggles, letting himself fall into the chair next to the bed and breathing out a sigh of relief. “What did doctor say?”
“Well, my tibia is definitely broken. The swelling needs to go down for them to determine if a surgery is necessary so I’ll need to stay overnight,” she tells him. At the sight of his eyes widening she leans over to grab his hand and squeeze it. “No worries, since it’s a clean break without any smaller fractures the surgery probably isn’t happening. It’s a just-in-case thing.”
Ilya nods along with her words. It’s not surprising, he’s used to these injuries, but it’s always either himself or a teammate. This is a different situation. “I will call David and Shane, yes? And go to hotel for our stuff. Are you allowed to eat not-hospital food? Shall I get dinner as well?” He asks with a small frown, stumbling a bit over his words.
At first Yuna wants to tell him she can make the call whilst he gets their stuff. She can repeat the doctor’s words in exact order, along with her questions and the answers to those. Then she takes a good look at his face. Ilya might be in his late twenties, but in the hospital chair he almost looks like a teen again. His expression reminds her a bit too much of a kicked puppy for her to protest against anything. “That would be wonderful, Ilya, thank you. How does pasta sound?” Her grin gets wider when she sees him smiling again.
“So you saw me, very brave like superhero, carry your mother and you did not worry?” Ilya complains. His phone screen shows Shane chuckling and adjusting his glasses. “Obviously I still did, but mom already texted dad in the ambulance. I didn’t see the video until hours after,” Shane says. The reflection in his glasses catch the video being replayed again. “Huh, it really does look like you’re in an action movie. Maybe stay away from the comments for a while.”
That last part has Ilya’s eyebrows shoot up. Next to him Yuna snorts. He clicks on the link to the video again and scrolls down to read the replies. “But they are not bad? Everyone is very nice about it. Look, they are saying I am handsome too. Want me to save them all.”
“Yeah, exactly. Your ego is way too big already. No need for it to get even worse.” Shane laughs at the middlefinger his words receive. His eyes go back to Yuna, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Dad and I got one of the downstairs bedrooms ready. I’ll pick up a wheelchair on the way to the airport tomorrow, crutches as well.” Once more the video is visible in the corner of his glasses. Yuna immediately starts laughing and falls back onto the pillow behind her, causing a confused expression on Shane’s face. “What- what’s funny?”
“Sweetheart, I understand I am irresistible but you need to stop watching that video. Your mama is right here. Have you got no shame?” Ilya sighs whilst shaking his head. He taps under his eye to hint at the glasses. Shane takes them off with a groan.
2.
A loud gasp escapes Ilya’s mouth. His eyes frantically search the table, not quite remembering the exact spot but knowing it is there. In the back of his mind he registers someone on the other side of the table. Just as he is about to give up and let the frustration take over, he sees the missing puzzle piece. It’s right next to the hand that is now flat on the table, the person leaning on it. Ilya sticks his hand out to take the piece. The hand next to it meets Ilya’s and tries to intertwine their fingers. Without thinking, Ilya smacks the other hand away and snatches the puzzle piece. He triumphantly presses it into the right place and looks up with a beaming smile. Only for his eyes to then meet a very unamused Shane.
“What? I needed that,” he says and gestures to the puzzle’s now filled-in bottom left corner. The unwavering expression of annoyance on Shane’s face makes Ilya sigh and open his arms. “I am sorry. Puzzle took all my attention. Please forgive me, moy lyubimyy.” His arms wrap around his husband, pressing him against his chest. Then David walks in. Wanting to show him the finished quarter of the puzzle, Ilya plants a quick kiss on Shane’s head and then ushers him to the side. “David, look!”
Five minutes later Ilya is sitting next to Yuna on the couch, banned from puzzles for the rest of the evening. A recap of the Admirals - Scouts game is playing on the television. Every time Scott Hunter skates into frame or is mentioned by the commentators, both Ilya and Yuna start booing.
At the end of the recap Yuna lets out a sigh and takes off her glasses. Ilya turns to her with a worried frown. “Your leg hurts?” He asks, glancing at her leg resting on a pillow. She shakes her head and gives him a small smile. “Just having some trouble adjusting. I think I’ve watched every game, recap and all the press from the past two weeks. It’s a bit much but it’s the only thing that doesn’t lose my interest within half an hour.” The words get waved away as she stretches her arms out.
“You are bored,” Ilya states it as if it’s a medical diagnosis. Which it might as well be, knowing Yuna Hollander. He doesn’t mind staying in bed all day or lounging on the couch in front of the television. Shane, however, gets way too jittery if he isn’t doing something productive at least half of the day. And that is something he got from his mother. “We will find new hobby, yes? Then we race to see who is best.”
Yuna pouts at those words. David and Shane are both competitive, sure, but Ilya matches her exact energy. She knows he’ll do anything to make her feel more comfortable - including diving into hobbies that are by no means competitive yet still make a race out of them. “Oh honey,” she puts a hand on her heart and gestures for Ilya to come closer. He scoots up against her, taking up the rest of the couch by stretching his legs out on it. She pushes some curls away from his face and smiles. “Of course I will win.”
So, a week later, a string of Russian curses fills up the hotelroom. For over an hour Ilya has been trying to follow along an embroidery tutorial. His fingers are tingling from the needle stabs and the thread on his hoop is both too loose and too tight. He swipes the tutorial away, throwing the hoop defeated across the room. Barely ten seconds later there is loud banging on the door.
“Listen dude,” Hayes says when Ilya opens the door and faces him, “I have tried everything to block the noise out. Could you please, just please, keep it down? Lisa called me and I couldn’t even hear her.” The expression on his face can only be described as pure desperation. “Even if you just move your bed away from the wall - that would help so much.”
Confused, Ilya looks over his shoulder and then back at Hayes. “Shane is with Bood.” He doesn’t miss the way Hayes’ eyes grow big. Quickly he throws the door completely open, showing an empty room. “Not in here, holy shit. What the fuck, Hayes?! They are getting food!” The sputtering in return can’t seem to form any intelligible words. Ilya walks over to where the embroidery hoop had landed, picks it up and walks back to show it. “Is new hobby. Very frustrating, too confusing. You should try it.” He pushes it into Hayes’ hands and closes the door shut.
His phone chimes with the sound of a new text. It’s from Yuna, asking him if they can pick another hobby.
Which is why, four days after that, Ilya is sitting in the team bus with a crochet needle in his hand. The video on his phone shows a granny square that is perfectly symmetrical. Ilya’s end result can maybe pass as recognizable as long as he squints his eyes and looks at it from a certain angle. He texts Yuna to pick something else.
Another six days go by and Ilya steps into the airplane later than his teammates. “What’s up? What did Coach need you for?” Shane asks with a frown. Ilya shrugs and takes place next to him. “They took my knitting needles, so he came to help. Was just small miscommunication. They even said sorry,” he answers. It isn’t a lie, TSA really did stop him. Except they had also wanted to give his knitting needles back. He had put his headphones on halfway their question, thanked them and boarded the plane without looking back.
Two days later Ilya is sitting in bed, staring at his phone. “Bullshit,” he mumbles under his breath. The Wordfeud app tells him his letter combination doesn’t count as an actual word. He is over sixty points behind Yuna. She has won the last two games and he refuses to lose again. Two arms wrap around his shoulders, a kiss gets pressed to his temple. With a smile Ilya looks up from his phone. “Hello. You come here often?”
Shane ignores the obvious double entendre. “Are you winning?” He asks instead. His eyes scan the screen and a scoff leaves his mouth upon realising what he’s reading. “Jesus, Ilya. You’re playing against my mom. You can’t make those words, are you kidding me?”
Of course Ilya knows which words he’s talking about. There are various sex terms spelled out across the board. “Shane,” he tries to keep a straight face whilst saying it, “Shane, I did not put those letters down.” He looks up with glee in his eyes, just in time to catch the horrified look on his husband’s face. Ilya’s loud laughter bounces off the walls. “She gave me good ideas to try out tonight,” he grins, then gets hit by a pillow thrown at his face.
“Absolutely not. Goodnight.”
3.
“You got her? Okay, great. Let’s try shifting a tiny bit of weight onto it.” A silence follows. There is obvious tension in it, patience that is running thin. “Ilya, once again, the exercises won’t help much if they don’t get the chance to. Put Yuna down, please.”
With a disapproving grunt Ilya lowers Yuna until her foot stands steady on the floor. He keeps his hands hovering above her waist, just to help her balance. They are at the gym of the physical therapy clinic for Yuna’s weekly session. It’s Ilya’s first time tagging along and he is already on the verge of getting kicked out.
“Sorry,” he mumbles, “is scary.” That earns him a sympathetic look from the physiotherapist and an unimpressed one from Yuna. He pretends to not see the latter, adding a sigh for dramatic effect.
“Rozanov,” Yuna says in a way that’s meant as a warning. There is no malice behind it.
Ilya’s eyebrows shoot up. A somewhat offended expression takes over his face, though not taking it seriously at all. “Oh, so now I am bad guy? Because I do not like to see you in pain?” His eyebrows crash back down, now frowning. There is a small fraction of his faux annoyance that holds some truth. He has been through enough hours of physical therapy to understand the importance of pushing the body so it can gain strength. It somehow hurts to be on the other side as well, helping someone achieve that.
“Ilya, honey, look at me.” This time Ilya does look at Yuna. “You promised me we are going to kick Shane and David’s asses when I’m back on skates. Do you really want to risk losing?”
“We can do that with four broken legs, easy,” he mutters. Still, he gives in and pushes the unease away. They resume the session, Ilya taking it seriously now and supporting where he can. At the end the physiotherapist compliments Yuna on her recovery so far. She tells her to try some of the exercises at home, implying heavily to have someone help her that is not Ilya.
From the clinic they drive to a lunchroom in the city. It’s the same one they always go to, just the two of them every once in a while. Watching Yuna fall back into her usual self talking about brand deals and upcoming events settles something in Ilya. She is feeling better and is not shy about it either, making him feel like a piece of his own sadness somehow dissolves. They fill up conversation as if they don’t text each other nearly daily, share their food and shit talk other teams. As usual, Ilya pays before Yuna can even think of taking out her card. He grins at her and laughs when she softly smacks his arm. Loading the wheelchair into the car and singing along to music during the drive has become a routine for them. Despite the MLH season making sure Ilya is booked and busy for weeks straight, he always finds some time to spend with Yuna and David.
“The fuck?” Shane’s words get cut off by a yawn. He tries to rub the sleep out of his eyes before he looks back at Ilya, who is currently sitting straight up in bed reading something on his phone. “We have morning practice. Stop reading weird Reddit shit and go to sleep.” The only answer he gets is a grunt sounding like ‘almost done’. A slightly irritated sigh leaves Shane’s mouth. It’s the third day in a row he wakes up in the middle of the night to see Ilya’s face being lit up by his phone screen. “Seriously, what is going on? If you’re avoiding going to sleep again because of-“
“No,” Ilya cuts him off immediately, “I am not. Not avoiding sleep, I mean. And also no new bad dreams. Just the same old ones.” That was the wrong thing to say, he realises as he sees Shane’s eyes soften. ”But that is not the problem, I promise. There is no problem at all actually. Just reading a lot of stuff, did not look at time.” He puts his phone on the nightstand and crawls under the covers. His arms wrap around Shane, pulling him against his chest and pressing a kiss behind his ear. Shane’s body goes slack again, releasing the worried tension. “I was reading articles about how broken bones heal. Some people have pain forever after breaking them, so I was worried for Yuna.”
There is a beat of silence before Shane lets out a groan that turns into soft laughter. He wrestles out of Ilya’s embrace, turning over to face him instead. The almost embarrassed pout he is met with warms his heart. He thinks about the text his mom had sent him weeks ago, describing Ilya’s expression as a kicked puppy, and now knows exactly what she had meant by that. “I love you so much. You are my entire life, Ilya. You do have to stop spiraling about my mom’s leg, though. She’s literally walking on crutches already.”
“Ugh, fine,” Ilya huffs out. The corners of his mouth curl into a small smile. “Maybe I got little bit carried away. But you are right, there is no need to stress. You do that enough for both of us already.” Shane’s hand hits his face as he turns back around, grabbing Ilya’s arms and wrapping himself back in them. “I was just scared the second best skater of the Hollanders would not be able to keep up with me anymore.”
“You know you’re a Hollander now as well, right?”
“Yes, of course. Are you not listening? I said second best of the Hollanders.”
Then it clicks in Shane’s brain. “Oh fuck you, you’re such a fucking asshole.” Ilya’s giggles are the last thing he hears before drifting back to sleep.
4.
The last Centaurs match had happened yesterday in Seattle. They beat the Seattle Scorpions, Shane scoring the final goal in overtime with an assist from Luca, marking the end of the regular MLH season. Yuna and David had surprised them by cheering them on in the audience after secretly flying over. And because they have two days off before they start practicing for the play-offs, Shane and Ilya agreed to spend an extra day in Seattle with their family.
“Yuna, come on. Just leave them in the car,” David sighs as he watches his wife grab the crutches out of the trunk. “Shane is already asking for a wheelchair. If they don’t have one available, we’ll find a store and then drive straight back.” He gently folds his hands over hers and pushes the crutches back. When Yuna frowns but doesn’t resist, he presses a kiss on the top of her head. “You know your limits, I know you won’t go over them. It’s okay to not explore them at all every now and then, though.” The words are met with another sigh. She leans into his touch and eventually nods in defeat.
“Good morning. I am Ilya and I will be driver for today!” Dressed in a Vetements leopard print puffer jacket, the very one Shane had tried to get rid of multiple times, Ilya stands in front of them with a wheelchair. “My service has five star rating, is very trustworthy. Do not believe anything Shane Hollander says, he is a fraud and nuisance to my company. That means pain in my ass.”
Yuna can’t find it in herself to be annoyed anymore. Both Ilya’s and David’s bright smiles make her cave, letting go of the crutches. She chuckles and sits down in the wheelchair. Ilya pushes her to the entrance of the zoo where Shane is waiting for them. He smiles and holds up a pamphlet. “We’re good to go. They gave me a map which has a route on it, so if we begin at-“ Before he can finish his sentence, Ilya is already five meters ahead pushing Yuna towards the first enclosure.
“I get why he is your least favourite. We go to a zoo, he makes it sound like business meeting,” Ilya groans and dramatically throws his head back. “Go to penguins at two o’clock. Oh for feeding time? No no, Shane Hollander would like to talk to them about hockey.” He gestures at the penguins that are waddling over rocks and diving into the water. “See, they even wear suits for important meeting.” That gets a hard laugh out of David walking behind them.
Shane rolls his eyes with a smile. There is a prickling behind his eyes that shows up every time he sees Ilya interact with his parents like this. A few years ago he didn’t even dare to think about his parents welcoming Ilya into their home, yet now they proudly tell everyone about their second son. To know his husband finally has two loving parental figures in his life kills him in the best way. At christmas Ilya had called David ‘dad’ as if it was nothing and Shane had cried in his mother’s arms about it hours later.
They choose to avoid the scheduled feeding times, Ilya tries not to look too devastated at that, in order to minimise the chances of them getting recognised. A handful of times they take pictures with fans that do see through their hat and sunglasses disguise - most of them being little kids with starstruck fathers. Overall the morning crowd in the zoo is fairly quiet and too distracted to cause any problems.
“Look, Anya has the same colours,” Shane points out at the tree kangaroo exhibit. “I’ve never seen these before. Oh wait, here’s the sign.” Whilst he reads the information about the species, Ilya waves to them and softly mutters as if he’s talking to Anya. Yuna films them both and keeps panning over from the one to the other. It happens again at the tapirs and once more at the otters.
David nudges Shane softly as they walk side by side. “Tell me about the plan for next week,” he says. In front of them Ilya and Yuna are chatting away, pointing at different animals and comparing them to MLH players. With a confused expression Shane tears his eyes away from them and looks at his father. “Thought I was supposed to ‘relax’? No actual hockey-talk, remember?” He asks him. In return, David hums and shrugs. When Shane gives in and lays out his plans for the first play-offs game, the tension in his shoulders resolves. The two of them talk about it until they get cut off by a stern look from Yuna over her shoulder. Shane smiles at David and mouths a soft ‘thank you’.
Eventually they end up at the last few enclosures. Near the end of the walking route, Yuna looks up at Ilya and meets his eyes with a genuine smile. “Thank you, honey. I’ll write you another five star review immediately,” she says and grins at his beaming smile. “Wait, come here. I have an idea.”
Later that night Ilya posts three pictures of the trip on his Instagram. The first is one of him pointing one finger at Shane and another finger at the meerkats. In the second one he is standing on his toes in front of the giraffes, trying to gauge their height. The third and last picture shows him sitting sideways on Yuna’s lap, except Yuna completely disappears behind his torso. Her only recognisable features are her arms wrapped around him as if to steady him. Ilya is grinning wide.
5.
“You are sure? She taught you, now you can teach her.” There is some concern and hesitation in Ilya’s voice. He ignores the chatter coming from the benches in front of the ice, keeping his eyes on Shane instead. “Obviously I am the best skater here, but you are not horrible.”
With a roll of his eyes Shane pushes him to the side and gets off the ice. “Oh I’m sure, I don’t mind one bit. You’re the captain after all,” he says as he sits down with the others, flashing a knowing smile at Ilya. Then he taps on Yuna’s arm, who is listening to Harris tell a story that Troy keeps interrupting, to get her attention. “Mom, are you ready?”
The Centaurs start cheering when Yuna steps onto the ice. They have just finished packing their stuff for the off-season and are going to celebrate winning the cup at Bood’s later. Now they’re all clapping from behind the boards, earning them a look from Yuna that says ‘really?’ without her having to voice it out loud. She swats Ilya’s hand away but quickly grabs it when she stumbles a bit. It’s clear that the muscle memory never left, her leg just needs to build up the strength.
Ten minutes later Ilya knows exactly why Shane had encouraged him. It turns out that his husband really is a carbon copy of his mother on the ice. Ilya has spent over a decade ragebaiting and provoking his opponents, yet the only one to perfectly match his energy and somehow be even more of a menace is his mother-in-law. “Are Hollanders supposed to be fast?” He asks, skating by with just enough speed to stay in front. “Only the ones that married into the family,” Yuna retorts and speeds up. In the distance Shane yells ‘what the hell, mom?!’ - causing wheezing laughter from the others.
“Okay, is enough, probably, I think. You did very good. If you want a spot on the team, I can throw out other Hollander. Then we have jersey and everything ready, no problem.” Ilya says after a while. He skates towards the group but stops when he sees the look on Yuna’s face. A fake annoyed groan leaves his mouth, followed up by muttering in Russian as he makes his way over to the equipment instead. There he grabs one of the goals, drags it behind him onto the ice and places it in the middle. He sees Haas hand Yuna a stick and immediately blush when she thanks him. Shane throws some pucks on the ice and gives Ilya’s stick to him.
Skating backwards in a smooth motion, Ilya goes to stand behind Yuna. The pucks are lined up horizontally in front of them. “Is okay if you miss. Would be very embarrassing without goalie, though,” Ilya’s voice carries throughout the rink. It’s dead silent - all eyes are on them as if it’s an actual game. “But Hayes is on the bench because he is best goalie in the league, I do not want him to face wrath of Yuna Hollander’s left leg. I have been trained by many big and scary Russian coaches and they all say it is their one fear.” Slowly he rolls into his captain-voice. His volume goes up until it’s the exact same as when he hyped up the team right before they won the cup. “At every practice in Moscow they threatened us. ‘Do better, work harder, or Yuna Hollander’s left leg will be your fucking downfall. You will not ever beat left leg of Yuna Hollander, it will end your fucking career.’ And they are right. Because right fucking here, first time on ice after it broke, Yuna Hollander’s left leg will fucking kill every single one of you!”
Taking that as a sign to go, Yuna starts shooting the pucks dead center into the goal. The benches erupt in loud yelling and applause. Shane gets onto the ice, followed by the entire team, and hugs his mother as if she just won the Stanley cup.
The barbecue at Bood’s gives everyone a chance to catch up. All the partners are there as well, joining in. “Hey Hollzy, I thought you said your dad played hockey?” Cassie asks, looking up from her phone. Shane frowns at that and slowly nods. “Uh yeah, he did. Why, what’s up?” He takes Cassie’s phone after she reaches it out to him. Ilya leans towards him, watching along. The video that plays is from earlier today. Harris had filmed Yuna and posted it on the Centaurs Instagram, captioned ‘our new star center’. It has over half a million likes already.
Quickly Ilya grabs his own phone. Within a minute his comment appears under the post, saying ‘@scotthunterofficial what’s ur excuse for being slow now grandpa’.
+1.
“Yeah, alright. You don’t have to play dumb, Ilya, I know what you meant,” Shane says with a harsh bite in his voice. He grabs his keys and walks out of the kitchen with heavy footsteps. “You’re such a fucking dick, jesus.”
Ilya is still grabbing the counter, his knuckles turning white. The sound of a jacket zipper snaps him back and unfreezes him along with it. Knowing that Shane won’t be back for three days, their fight suddenly seems pointless and unnecessary. His legs move before his voice has a chance to catch up with them. “Shane, wait. Let me explain, sweetheart, please. I promise I did not mean it like that,” he hurries to say. “Please, I need you right n-“ The front door slams shut with a bang, scaring Anya into a barking fit. For a minute Ilya just stands there. Then he quietly returns to the kitchen, transfers the freshly made dinner into tupperware boxes and leaves those on the counter to cool off. He washes the dishes by hand in complete silence. After putting everything away, he sits down on the couch and wraps his arms around Anya as soon as she throws herself into his lap. The first sob works its way through his throat, every one after that sounding more defeated.
From the moment Ilya had woken up today, he had already known it would end in disaster. It took all of his effort to finally get out of bed at one in the afternoon. Normally Shane would be incredibly understanding and helpful about it, except he had been stressing out over seeing a few of his old teammates later. Hayden, JJ and him had planned a trip together and would get drinks with some retired Voyageurs first. He had tried his best to not let his disappointment of only getting a few hours with Ilya show. Unfortunately, his husband sees every micro-expression that shows up on his face and clocked it immediately. So Ilya had spent the entire afternoon trying to distract Shane from the stress, despite being exhausted himself. It helped to a certain degree - they managed to keep themselves together until dinner.
And then Ilya had accidentally implied that Shane’s spiral into an almost panic attack was unreasonable. Which wouldn’t be too much of a problem, if it hadn’t been for the already straining tension hanging over them. What he had meant to say was that Shane shouldn’t worry too much because he has the Centaurs. A team that loves and accepts him, unlike his old team. That his fussing over the validation of his old teammates stung Ilya because he was the reason they turned against him. But English isn’t Russian and even after so many years Shane doesn’t seem to get that.
Anya jumps back onto the floor and softly whines. Ilya closes his eyes with a sigh for a second, but then gets up as well. “Zhdi, Anya,” he says. She stays in place as he walks away to get his jacket and a hidden half empty pack of cigarettes. His phone rings, still in the kitchen, right when he opens the front door. For just a moment his step falters. Instead of answering it, Ilya grabs Anya’s lead and closes the door behind him.
Twenty minutes later they’re both standing in front of David and Yuna’s cottage. Ilya unlocks the door and Anya shoots inside. “Is me. And your granddaughter also,” he announces. The excited greeting coming from the living room puts a small smile on his face. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but it’s the most genuine one so far.
“Hey, honey. David’s at the store, he’ll be back in a bit. Did Shane already leave? I thought you two were having dinner together.” Yuna’s warm voice crashes into him and knocks his facade down like it’s nothing. It’s something both her and David seem to have mastered without realising. Stepping into the living room, Ilya doesn’t even try to hide the look on his face. “He uh-, we had a fight and he left. We did not eat dinner,” he admits with a shrug.
Yuna looks up from her book, brows furrowed. Seeing his expression, she puts the book aside and gestures for him to join her on the couch. He takes place next to her and immediately collapses when she says ‘oh, Ilyusha’ in the softest voice. Whilst Ilya cries in her arms, she gently pushes the curls out of his face. “What happened? Was it about the trip?”
“Is my fault,” he mumbles after taking a few deep breaths and wiping away some tears. “I am not having good day, but I do not want Shane to stress over people that do not deserve that. So I talk and talk - even though I do not want to talk. And it worked, it did.” The frustration is there in both his voice as on his face. “Then I said the wrong words and he stopped listening. I say ‘I did not mean it like that’ but he does not believe me. Says I play dumb, like I do it on purpose. But I am so tired. I feel like nothing, everything is numb. English takes effort that I do not always have.”
In the back of his mind Ilya knows Galina is proud of him right now. Talking about how he feels has become a lot easier, but opening up is still a struggle most of the time. He feels guilty for being able to do so with Shane’s parents yet not as easily with Shane himself. Then again, he doesn’t necessarily have to since his husband sees right through him.
“It’s okay, honey. I know exactly what you’re talking about,” Yuna tells him. “You know my parents are Japanese, right? They moved to Canada before I was born and didn’t speak English that well. So they raised me in a Japanese speaking household, since I picked up on English and French pretty quickly at school. And at some point I started talking in English to them because I heard it the most. They understood me, but always answered in Japanese. Because even though they had been living in Montreal for over a decade by that time, they still had to translate everything in their heads first.” As she speaks, she pulls Ilya closer to her and smiles at him. “Every day you communicate in a language that you didn’t grow up with, Ilya. Your brain works overtime. You have gotten so fluent and you have worked so hard for that. Shane might be learning Russian, but he forgets that you have been going through the same struggle of learning an entire language for so long already. He knows that words don’t always translate the same, he has two grandparents that speak a language he doesn’t even understand. It isn’t fair of him to not let you explain your words.”
All Ilya can do is burst out in tears again. They’re out of relief and gratefulness this time. Before his relationship with Shane he almost never cried. If he did, it would always be because of grief or hurt. Now he feels safe enough to do it because of good feelings as well.
Suddenly Anya starts barking and runs towards the front door. Barely five seconds later David walks in, Shane following him with a devastated look on his face. And the thing is, Ilya knows he should be mad at him. The miscommunication was both of their faults but he didn’t even get a chance to apologise and explain. They had promised each other a long time ago that they would never repeat their Boxing Day fight and it still happened. But all of that really can’t seem to bother him when he sees the love of his life like this.
“Moy lyubimyy, I am so sorry,” Ilya mumbles as he stands up and takes Shane in his arms. “Please believe me. Your worries are always important, they matter so much to me. I did not mean to let you think they do not.”
“No- god, Ilya. You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry for leaving you like that, I’m so sorry. I was so caught up in something so fucking stupid that I didn’t even listen to you. On a bad day as well, jesus.” Shane takes Ilya’s face in his hands and presses a kiss to his lips. “I drove for like ten minutes and then called to tell you I was coming back. When you didn’t pick up I called dad and he said you were probably here. And I know you wouldn’t leave or do anything, but-“
“Oh, Shane, no. Never, okay? I’m here,” Ilya says softly and takes both of his hands. “We have a daughter together. Would be horrible if I was single dad, she would be so spoiled and out-of-touch.” The last sentence makes Shane snort. Both of them look at each other and wipe away each other’s tears with some giggling.
“I told Hayden I’ll be there tomorrow morning instead. We can eat dinner with mom and dad, if you’d like. Or we can just go home so you can get some rest.”
The choice is easy - there is still a sinking feeling in Ilya’s stomach, but it has significantly lessened. “You send me to space if I ever say no to David’s cooking, yes? Alert whole country that aliens are here. You have to promise me, Shane, is very serious situation.”
In the kitchen Yuna is wrapped in David’s arms. She looks at Shane and Ilya, then meets the eyes of her husband. “We’re so, so lucky with them. I’m so happy they found each other,” she whispers to him. He smiles at her and she swears she sees some of Ilya in it. Ilya is their son as well, they have established that a long time ago, but Yuna knows he has a special bond with David. Where Shane has always been his mother’s son, Ilya is David’s son.
Yuna locks eyes with Ilya and mouths ‘I love you’ at him. He mouths ‘ya tebya lyublyu’ back at her and she repeats it. It makes him grin with a look that radiates pure happiness.