“Only the best of the best get to be in that place,” Coach assured him. “It’s like the NHL of dogs.”
“Yes, but there are huge assholes in the NHL.”
Coach laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. “Yeah, but not in Ottawa.”
“I came out to Troy Barrett,” Ilya said, a week later.
Shane nearly choked on the sip he’d just taken of his smoothie. “What?” he asked after a fit of coughing. He was glad this wasn’t a video call.
“I told him I am bisexual,” Ilya said calmly, as if he’d told Troy that he liked pizza or something. As if he revealed his sexuality to people all the time when Shane knew he’d barely told anyone. Ilya had told Shane that Troy wasn’t such a bad guy, now that he was getting to know him, but it still seemed fucking nuts that Ilya would choose him of all people to share this closely guarded secret with.
“When? Why?”
“Last night. I wanted to tell someone.”
All right. Shane didn’t know that this had been weighing on Ilya, and that made him feel like a shitty boyfriend. But he could worry about that later. “Why him?”
For a moment, there was silence. Then Ilya said, “You can’t tell anyone this.”
“Tell anyone what?”
“Promise me.”
“Fine. I promise. What?”
“He came out to me first,” Ilya said.
Shane blinked. “I’m sorry. What?”
“He told me he is gay. I don’t think he has told many people. Maybe no one. So it felt like I should, you know. Share back.”
“Troy Barrett is gay?” Given the fact that Troy had always seemed like a homophobic douchebag to Shane, this was a lot to process.
“Yes. But that is a secret.”
Shane closed his eyes. Okay. Troy Barrett was gay, and also he was friends with Ilya now. Weird. “Of course I won’t tell anyone.”
“I know.”
“Why did he tell you?” It suddenly occurred to Shane that the reason Troy had come out to Ilya was because he was interested in Ilya.
“I took him out last night. To the Kingfisher. Was his first gay bar, he said.” Then Ilya laughed. “You’d like him. You are both very bad at being gay.”
“Hilarious,” Shane said flatly. “So what happened at the bar?”
“We had a nice talk with the queer New York hockey players.”
“Scott and Eric were there?”
“Yes. They own the bar.”
“I know, but—” Shane sighed. “Okay. So you had a queer NHL player meeting.”
“You feel left out?”
“I mean, yeah. Kind of. What were you guys doing there?”
“Just talking. Drinking beer. Having a fun time. You would have hated it.”
“Did Troy come out to everyone there?”
“No. Just me. Was after. We were walking to the hotel.”
“Sounds romantic,” Shane grumbled.
“Shane. He is in love with Harris. Not me.” There was a beat of silence, then Ilya added, “That is also a secret. Though not a good one because Troy is very obvious about this crush.”
“Just to recap,” Shane said. “Your new friend Troy Barrett is gay and in love with your team’s social media manager?”
“Yes.”
“Were you surprised when he told you? Because I’m pretty fucking surprised.”
“No. Because of the crush on Harris thing. And also he was checking me out a few times.”
Shane exhaled slowly. “I don’t think I like Troy.”
“Why? You have a lot in common. You both are short, gay, and both think I am hot.”
“Your favorite qualities in a man.”
“You are both very pretty. Nice dark hair. Troy also does not have chest hair.”
“Let’s stop talking about Troy Barrett.”
Ilya laughed. “It is cute how you are jealous.”
“I am absolutely not jealous of Troy fucking Barrett.” Except for how Troy got to spend so much time with Ilya, play hockey on the same line as him, and, apparently, check him out in the locker room and go to gay bars with him.
“I only am telling you,” Ilya said in a more serious tone, “because it was nice. To talk about this with someone.”
Wait. “You didn’t tell him about us, did you?”
“Of course I didn’t fucking tell him about us!” Then Ilya mumbled something in angry Russian. Shane only caught about half of the words.
“What was that?”
“Only you can tell your friends about us, right? This is how it works?”
“What the hell are you talking about? And since when is Troy your closest friend?”
Ilya exhaled loudly into the phone. “I have to go. Practice soon.”
Shane didn’t understand why they were both so angry, but ending the call before one of them said something they couldn’t take back was probably a good idea. “Fine.” He winced at the bitchiness of his tone, then said, more gently, “Call me after practice?”
“I might be busy having sex with Troy,” Ilya said tightly.
“Ilya…”
“I have to go.”
The call went dead.
Shane slumped against his kitchen counter and started thinking about all the ways that conversation could have gone better.
Ilya didn’t call Shane after practice. Instead he took a nap, ate dinner, and got ready for his game that night against the New York Admirals. The Admirals were the best team in the league, so Shane would understand why Ilya would need to focus.
Not that he cared if Shane understood. Shane certainly hadn’t understood why it had been important for Ilya to tell someone—anyone—that he was bisexual. And why it had felt so good to have his teammate come out to him. How good it felt to be making a new friend, and to have earned that friend’s trust so quickly.
Maybe Ilya shouldn’t have told Shane. Maybe he should have saved all this for his next session with Galina. Not that he would out Troy to his therapist, but he would find a way to talk about it. Galina would understand why this was important to Ilya. She knew how lonely he was.
Jesus. Ilya hadn’t even told Shane that Troy had almost guessed that he and Shane were a couple. It was alarming how quickly Troy had started to put the pieces together in his head once Ilya had told him he was bisexual. If Shane knew about that he’d probably lose his shit completely.
Ilya carried his bad mood onto the ice that night for the match against the Admirals. At first, his anger seemed useful, pushing him to battle hard and even open the scoring early in the first period. But as the game went on, and as New York kept scoring, Ilya’s anger caused him to take stupid penalties and make costly mistakes.
After the game he’d been quiet and sulky. He hadn’t talked to anyone in the dressing room, and no one had talked to him. Probably because they didn’t want to get snarled at.
That night, there was an unexpected knock on his hotel room door.
“Hey,” Troy said when Ilya opened it. “Thought you might wanna watch a movie or something.”
Ilya took in Troy’s uncertain expression, aware that gestures of friendship were probably outside Troy’s usual comfort zone. Ilya nodded, and stepped back to let him in.